Chapter Text
"I'm so proud of you for getting into True Cross Academy!" your father exclaims, warmth radiating from his eyes. For nearly a month, he has been consistently telling you how proud he is, his voice brimming with genuine admiration. While your dad praises his brilliant daughter, your mother continues stirring the fragrant broth on the stove. She wasn't as pleased when you received the letter about the scholarship that grants you free tuition until graduation. Initially, she looked terrified, her eyes widening in shock, but soon anger clouded her features, twisting them into a mask of distress. You attempted to question her, but the anger vanished as quickly as the terror had come, leaving her silent and withdrawn. Since then, she hasn't mentioned it again, choosing to ignore it altogether. Your father, on the other hand, brings up your acceptance at every opportunity, which prompts her to leave the room whenever possible. This time, though, she's stuck at the stove, her body tense and her gaze fixed on the bubbling pot.
You still find yourself uncertain about how you managed to secure the scholarship. While you don’t consider yourself unintelligent, you wonder if your academic achievements alone would have been enough to earn such an opportunity. It feels surreal. Moreover, you think you lack any exceptional talents. Aside from baking, you don't have any particularly remarkable hobbies. This prestigious school wasn't even on your radar during your high school search. The exorbitant cost made it seem unattainable, especially since it's located all the way across the country from your home. Unless your parents hit the jackpot, you doubt you could have afforded it. Considering the possibility of attending felt futile and would likely have resulted in disappointment, only deepening your longing for something that seemed beyond your reach.
Your mother exhales deeply, her gaze shifting toward you. "You'll be attending the cram school there as well," she says, her face twisted with irritation as she hisses the words.
"Mom, does the cram school cost extra? I don't have to join," you say, mindful of the strain it could put on your family.
Her response is firm, leaving no room for argument. "Yes, you do," she says, her tone stern and resolute.
While you were packing, your father stood nearby, carefully checking if you had everything you needed. "Toothbrush?”
“I’ll buy a new one there.”
"Okay, did you pack your vitamins and all your chargers? It seems like you have twenty of them," he mumbles while rummaging through your electronics bag. His hands gently sort through the cables and adapters, showing clear consideration as he avoids exploring your other bags filled with personal items and clothing. "By the way, did you remember to bring the shampoo you like? It's quite pricey. Even if there's only half a bottle left, be sure to take it with you," he adds, prioritizing your comfort and preferences.
You chuckle at this; the shampoo isn’t expensive—he just uses the budget-friendly two-in-one kind.
As he sits on your bed, watching you pack, he enthusiastically proposes his idea, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "You’ll be in your dorm room tonight. After unpacking, you’ll have a few free hours, right?” His grin widens even more as he envisions his brilliant idea coming to life.
“I suppose?”
“Bake some cookies to share with your classmates tomorrow! You make the best cookies, and I know your new friends will absolutely love them,” he says, his grin widening to an almost inhuman degree.
“Fine.”
"Hello!" An eccentric man greets you as you step out of the car, followed closely by your parents. Initially, they intended to toss you to the wolves, simply sending you to the airport and waving goodbye as you passed through security. This thought was terrifying, especially since you had never flown before. Fortunately, they agreed to accompany you themselves and help you get settled.
"I am Johann Faust V!" he declared, dramatically spreading his arms in a flamboyant greeting to you and your family. You found yourself frozen, utterly taken aback by the character before you. The principal of such a prestigious school was expected to have a dignified demeanor, yet this man's white suit, oversized top hat, and vibrant pink and purple accents were anything but conventional. As your gaze wandered downward, you couldn't help but notice the peculiar jester pants adorning his legs. To top it off, he donned a flowing cape. You were at a loss for how to respond, completely bewildered by this individual and his extravagant attire. Thankfully, your parents quickly regained their composure after the initial shock of encountering such an unconventional figure.
Your father grinned back. "Director Faust, it's nice to finally meet you. I hope I can trust you to take care of my daughter?"
"Of course! My students are my highest priority."
"Even the cram school students?" your mother asked, an unusual edge in her voice.
The strange man smirked. “Especially the cram school students. You don’t have to worry about a thing, Yume. Now, let me show you to your new dorm. Typically, we only accept a limited number of students each semester. However, due to your last-minute acceptance, there was a miscalculation in dorm space. You’ll be in the girls’ dorm building, but on the top floor. Not all the rooms on that floor are finished yet, so you’ll be the only one there. But don't worry! Next semester, more girls will join you on your floor.”
You wake up feeling drained after a restless night, realizing that melatonin could have made a difference. Instead, you were haunted by a whirlwind of "what ifs" running through your mind. Thankfully, your parents were supportive, helping you unpack and sort through everything, which ended up taking longer than any of you had anticipated.
Instead of dwelling on your sleep deprivation, you quickly head to the wardrobe where your school uniforms are stored. While the style closely resembles that of your previous school, the lightweight and pleasant texture of the fabric is noticeable. The pink skirt, in particular, distinguished it from other school uniforms you had encountered.
Before you have a chance to get out the door, your phone rings. “Hi, Dad, " you mumble into the phone, not bothering to check his name on the ID.
“Hey sweetheart! I just wanted to wish you good luck, and remember to bring the cookies! Since it's early, I thought you might forget them if I didn't remind you."
Oh, that’s right. The cookies. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” You question while glancing down at the container of cookies you made the night before.
You know he is nodding as he speaks now. “Yeah! What better way to make new friends than through their stomachs?”
You let out a sigh. “Dad, the saying goes that the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach—not through friends.”
“I would be happy if someone as talented as you offered me a cookie while introducing yourself. After that, we’d be best friends for life."
You roll your eyes at how serious he sounds. Still, maybe he isn’t wrong. You wouldn’t mind meeting someone this way, right? Okay, I’m gonna do it.
I’m not sure if this is going to work. The students around you radiate privilege. Will they turn their noses up at you if you attempt to share cookies that weren't crafted by a professional pastry chef? You stand awkwardly in the back left corner. You really shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but knowing how wealthy these kids are and how elite this school is feels profoundly intimidating. As the classroom fills up, nobody seems to acknowledge you. Should I speak first? Wait, there’s an even number of chairs in the classroom. Will I have a place to sit? What if the class already consists of an even number of students?
As the bell rings, you notice that no one acknowledges your presence. However, you feel a sense of relief as you spot an empty seat a few desks back in the left row. As you walk towards the seat, you can't help but wonder if the school might overlook assigning a desk to a new student. Your future desk mate, sitting by the window, remains unaware of your arrival as you quietly take your place beside him. You introduce yourself in a soft voice, "Um, I'm ____," but he doesn't even turn to acknowledge you. Surprisingly, despite the bell ringing, the teacher has yet to arrive.
As you wait for his response, you find yourself stealing glances at him. His hair captivates your attention, featuring two distinct shades of green. The lighter hue at the top gradually deepens into a darker green that brushes just below his ears. Even after you introduce yourself, he remains oblivious to your presence. Well, there goes the plan to offer him a cookie after the introduction. Perhaps it's best to forget about the cookies altogether, take them home, and enjoy them yourself instead. Instead of reaching for the cookies in your bag, you opt to grab your algebra textbook. As you ponder how to ask him about the chapter, you turn to face him.
You jump as you turn and notice your classmate staring at you. Not only do you have his undivided attention, but he is also leaning in closer, almost invading your personal space. A natural, earthy aroma fills your senses, and you find yourself pondering the cologne he’s wearing. It's a scent unlike anything you've ever experienced, free of the usual artificial undertones. Amidst your confusion, you manage to mutter a timid "hi," while noticing that his golden eyes glisten like precious gems, leaving you in awe.
"What's that smell?" He examined you with an oddly indifferent expression, particularly given that he had abruptly encroached on your personal space while asking such an unusual question.
Smell? Oh no, do I smell bad? You fight the urge to sniff yourself. You took a shower last night, and you’re wearing deodorant—there's no reason for any odor. "W-what?" you stammer.
“It’s sweet. What is it?” he asks again.
Sweet? What is he talking about? You stare confused. “I don’t smell anything.”
As his gaze shifts down to your bag, a realization dawns on him. Is he talking about the cookies? They’re sealed in an airtight container, so he shouldn't be able to smell them, right? His eyes follow your movements as you take the cookies from the bag. Although his expression remains indifferent, his focus stays locked on the cookies in your hand.
As you nervously opened the box, you stammered, "I made cookies for some of my new classmates to introduce myself. I hope we can be friends." With a blend of excitement and anxiety, you extended the box of cookies toward him. However, your anticipation swiftly transformed into disbelief when he took the entire box without saying a word.
The plan is for you to give your classmates one or two items, ensuring you have enough to share with others throughout the day. It never occurred to you that someone might take the entire box. Maybe he’s just going to take one and give it back?
He eats one, and then another, and another. He’s not giving them back, is he? “Are they good?” You question, though, if he claims they’re anything but good, you’re going to beat him over the head with the box. You’re still flabbergasted that he took the whole box.
“Yes.”
“I’m ____.” You decide to try the introduction again.
“I know, you told me when you sat down.”
You squirm slightly, a twinge of frustration rising within you as he finally speaks up, only after noticing the cookies in your hand. "And who are you?"
“Ambrosius Faust."
“Faust? Like the principal?"
"Yes, he’s my uncle.”
Silence envelops the room as your conversation dwindles. Just then, the teacher entered and gestured toward you and your new seatmate. "I would like to warmly welcome both of you to our class," he said with a smile.
You turn to Ambrosius, who maintains an indifferent expression. Is he new too? Though it seems like this isn’t your typical school. While you hoped to get answers about him being new too, the teacher spoke your names and dove straight into the lesson, instructing everyone to open their books. Discovering that he’s new too raises countless questions. It’s your final year of high school—why would the principal’s nephew choose to enroll now? Has he actually been a student for a few years and is merely moving into this class?
You observe him as he unwraps a lollipop and pops it into his mouth. If the teacher notices, he doesn’t comment. Are students permitted to eat during class in this school?
As the lesson ends, Ambrosius turns his attention to you. “I want more.”
“Huh?”
He holds up the empty container, indicating that he has eaten all of them. You stare at the container in disbelief, realizing you hadn’t even noticed him eating them during class. The only thing you remember seeing him eat was the lollipops; then again, it’s not like you were watching him the entire time.
“I want more.” He repeats when you don’t answer right away.
“Sure, I can make some more tonight,” you mumble. Without another word, he stands up and exits the classroom. Or maybe not. Do you really want to bake cookies for someone so rude?
As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, you remained seated at your desk, quietly watching your classmates file out of the classroom. A wave of disappointment washes over you as you realize your seatmate, who had eagerly asked for more cookies from your pack during the first lesson, had completely ignored you for the rest of the day. Without a second thought, he quickly left the moment the teacher dismissed the class.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll make some friends. Fortunately, you don’t have to start cram school until next week. This gives you a full week to adjust, as principal Faust explained to your mom before she and your dad left. While you hope to make friends at school, you appreciate the extra time to settle in that principal Faust has provided.
I need to put more effort into making friends. I’ll try harder tomorrow, and maybe we can meet up after school sometime this week. Obviously, Ambrosius isn’t interested in friendship. You gave up trying to talk to him after lunch when he continued to ignore you all morning.
As the last student exits the classroom, you reach for your school bag and stand up. Thoughts of making new friends tomorrow raced through your mind. Maybe this time, I’ll wrap the cookies individually. Otherwise, he'll likely help himself to the whole container again. The idea of giving him more cookies after his rude behavior today made you uncertain, despite promising that you would make more for him.
Thank God the dorm has elevators. When you were told you’d be living in a dorm, you never imagined you’d be on the top floor, which is a bit disappointing. It’s hard to make friends when you feel so isolated like this.
As you make your way to your room, you find yourself staring at the floor, deep in thought about what type of cookies to bake tonight. Should you go for brownies instead of cookies, or perhaps a unique cookie rather than the usual chocolate chip? It's important to remember, though, to always keep an eye on your surroundings, even if you are on your familiar dorm floor. Suddenly, you bump into something hard and warm. A person.
“Ambrosius?” Your mouth drops open in disbelief. “What are you doing here? You’re not even allowed in the girls’ dorm!” you whisper, even though there’s no one around to hear you on this empty floor.
“You said you’re making cookies tonight.”
“Okay, and?”
“I want some.”
You shake your head in disbelief. "Yes, I am baking them tonight and will bring you some tomorrow," you emphasize, your tone resolute. "Actually, I'm not sure if I’ll give you any. You completely ignored me all day. How did you even get in here? Boys shouldn’t have keycards to the girls’ dorms."
"I was given one," he remarks with a casual shrug, as if it were nothing noteworthy for a boy to hold a key to the girls' dorms. His lack of concern for your frustrated expression, which arose from being ignored all day, was clear as he continued, "You're baking them tonight, so why should I wait?"
Sure, you could see where he’s coming from, you can’t beat freshly baked cookies. However, it's a bit strange for him to expect that he can just drop by your dorm and wait for them, especially since he's not a close friend. You're not his personal baker.
“Look, we aren’t even friends. It’s weird you’re just here to demand cookies. Maybe if we were friends but-“
“So, we’re friends.”
Wow, you're left speechless, completely at a loss for words. Did he really just suggest that you’re friends so you’ll give him baked goods?
“No, we aren’t friends. You probably don’t even remember my name.”
When he casually utters your full name, a wave of surprise and curiosity washes over you. You never disclosed your full name to him, leaving you to wonder if he had been paying attention during the teacher's introduction. Could his attention hint at a genuine interest in building a bond? Maybe he is just socially awkward?
“You remembered. Oh, what the hell. Sure. Ambrosius, I’ll bake you something. I was actually thinking of brownies instead. Do you like brownies?” When he nods, a giddy feeling began to bubble up inside you. Friends have always said you’re a good baker, but beyond family, you’ve never had anyone show this much enthusiasm for your baked goods. No one has ever been interested enough to come over and enjoy something fresh from the oven.
As soon as the door to your room closed, it struck you like a ton of bricks. It wasn’t the thought of, "I’ve never had a boy in my room before!"—something that others might think in this situation. No, it was the realization that perhaps you shouldn’t have invited him in. What if you get expelled or face some other serious consequence? Just how strict are the rules here? Oh well, you can only hope for the best.
"If you're going to ask me for baked goods and risk getting me in trouble since you're not allowed in my dorm, could you please help me out?" Your bag gently lands on the floor as you walk towards your kitchenette, which likely isn’t the right term given its small size.
You know that you shouldn’t accept this casually, as it’s likely he’s just using you despite his claims of friendship. However, you enjoy baking, and it feels great when others appreciate your creations. Whatever, you’ll just use him as an assistant.
Notes:
This chapter has been edited, I hope you like it and continue reading <3
Chapter 2
Notes:
Edited December 17 - wording and grammar
Reminder, MC thinks Amaimon is a human named Ambrosius.
MC (you) has a surname name. It's Aoki. So ____ Aoki, just to be clear before there is any confusion when you read it.
Or rather Aoki ____ since family names come first in many cultures, Japanese included as you all probably are already aware of.
This chapter is a bit slow, but I just want to introduce MC to everyone, get a feel of everyone. It actually won't be that long until Amaimon takes interest.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Last night was absolutely perfect. You spent the evening baking two pans of brownies, carefully watching them rise in the oven as their sweet aroma filled the room. In a gesture of friendship, you shared an entire pan with your new green-haired friend, making sure he left with a warm treat. After saying goodbye, you cleaned up the kitchen, ensuring everything was in its rightful place. Then, you finished your homework before slipping into bed, feeling accomplished.
As sunlight streams through your window, a wave of hopefulness washes over you. You carefully slice the brownies, neatly arranging them into individual bags. While placing the bags into a sturdy container to shield them from any potential damage during transport, your mind begins to drift towards the exciting possibility of meeting fellow baking enthusiasts and forming new friendships. Each step was infused with anticipation for the connections you might cultivate today, inspired by the promise of delicious brownies.
You observe Ambrosius as he pulls the container from your bag, not even sparing a word for you. Ignoring you completely, he opens the container and helps himself to a few brownies.
What do you even say in a situation like this? You don't want to cause a scene, but what the hell? He just took the container again, this time without bothering to say a word to you. What kind of person acts like this? Being related to the principal, he's probably wealthy and accustomed to getting his way. "Um, Ambrosius?" you call out to him timidly, still trying to wrap your head around what just occurred. "Those are for our classmates, remember?”
His gaze shifts toward you, portraying the same disinterested expression. "I ate all of mine. I want more," he remarks.
“You ate all yours?”
“Yes.”
“The whole pan?”
His brows furrowed slightly, if you hadn’t been staring at him, you would’ve missed it. “I don’t like repeating myself.”
You turn away from him, overwhelmed by a mix of disbelief and frustration. The last thing you want is to start a conflict in the middle of class, especially with the principal's nephew. It's a bittersweet situation; he enjoys your baking, yet he’s unwilling to share it with anyone. As you struggle to keep your emotions in check, the teacher walks into the classroom. You let out a sigh of relief and open your textbook, but your thoughts remain fixated on the encounter.
The classes pass quickly, and you choose to ignore the green-haired boy unless he speaks to you first. However, with just a quick glance at him after the lunch bell rings, you notice he still has half the brownies left, meaning you’ll remain unnoticed until he finishes them. Maybe I should just charge him for the baked goods; that way, I can avoid the whole fake friend situation, as he won’t need to follow me around pretending to be friendly.
Considering the cost of meals at this school, you decide it’s better to buy lunch in the town just off campus. A sandwich from 7-Eleven will suffice today, even though you know better than to make a habit of it. Maybe I could get a hotplate and start making my own lunches instead. Along with the sandwich, you pick up a bag of hard candy. Parents won’t be thrilled with this lunch choice, but that’s their problem. You head back to a bench just outside the school to enjoy your meal.
“I want some.”
You turn to find Ambrosius beside you, wearing his usual bored expression. He stands less than a meter away, his eyes fixed on the bag in your lap. You take a bite of your sandwich; his presence won’t disrupt your meal. You’re hungry.
“Want what?” you ask after swallowing the bite, already suspecting what he might be referring to.
“The candy." He held the container of brownies you brought today, and it seems he has a little less than half left. That should be enough bags to meet some people this time. “Trade me the brownies for the candy.” You try not to dwell on the absurdity of trading for something that is already yours. Reluctantly, you lifted the bag, shaking it enticingly to persuade him into the exchange. Just as you are about to make a deal, someone calls out your name.
"Miss Aoki?" A teenager, appearing to be around your age, approaches you with a warm smile. His bright blue eyes, partially obscured by glasses, glint with curiosity. "My name is Okumura Yukio. Would you mind if I spoke with you for a moment?" His gaze shifts to Ambrosius, the unspoken message of seeking privacy is unmistakable.
Ambrosius shrugs, quickly snatching the bag of candy from your hands, and walks away without a second glance. Your jaw drops in disbelief, leaving you unsure of how to react. What kind of person behaves like that? "I’m sorry for interrupting you and your friend—"
As he walks away, you feel a pang of disappointment as you admit, "No, it’s okay. He’s not my friend. I haven’t had a chance to make any friends here yet." Watching your supposed friend leave, a twinge of hurt washes over you. It dawns on you that his interest appears to revolve solely around your baking and the sweets you bring. People suck.
A boy suddenly appears as if conjured from thin air. "Really?!" he exclaimed. "I'll be your first friend here!" Before you can respond, he eagerly introduces himself as Okumura Rin and showers you with questions. Just as he was about to continue his enthusiastic chatter, Yukio quickly steps in, pulling Rin back and clarifying that Rin is his twin brother. In that moment, Yukio looked both tired and exasperated, reminiscent of an old man who had lost faith in the younger generation.
You blink in surprise, struggling to comprehend this unexpected turn of events. Meeting new classmates and being offered friendship within mere minutes has completely caught you off guard. Given how your other classes have been, you’ve started to worry that your peers are avoiding you because you aren't wealthy. Perhaps you're just surrounded by classmates who prefer to keep to themselves or something similar.
“Miss Aoki, I hope you’ll join me this evening-“
Rin cuts his younger brother off. “Like a date? Moving kind of fast there Yukio.”
Yukio pulls his brother back with an irritated look. "I apologize, Miss Aoki. Please ignore him for a moment. Since you'll be joining the cram school next week, would you be able to meet with me today after classes? "I can give you a tour of the cram school," he offers with a warm smile, though his frustration with his brother's behavior is clear. It seems he endures quite a bit because of him.
Why do I need to go to the cram school now? You'd think it could wait until the end of the week. However, it's not like you have any afterschool plans. Maybe you can meet somebody else at the cram school and make another friend or two.
"Sure," you smile back. Rin slips out of Yukio's grip and takes a seat across from you.
"Great! I'll catch up with you after classes, too. Do you have anyone to have lunch with? Let's have lunch together." He beams as he places a bento in front of him. However, when his eyes land on the 7-Eleven sandwich, his expression shifts to a frown. "Is that all you're eating? You can't just have that. Here." He reaches for a second bento he had been carrying.
“Why do you have two?”
“Oh, I made it for Yukio, but do you see the girls behind him?” He points to a small group of girls that you hadn’t noticed before, all glaring at you. “They always make him lunch, so why don’t you take this one and he can just eat one of theirs today.” Rin shrugs, appearing unbothered about giving away his brother’s lunch.
You glance at Yukio, who appears quite uncomfortable. “Do you ever accept them?" he shakes his head, explaining that they prepare food for him every day. Instead, he eats the bento Rin makes, telling them that he already has lunch. That’s kind of sad. “Have you tried asking them not to make you lunch?”
“Not directly, but Rin is right. You should have more than just that sandwich. I’ll find something else for lunch. I just can’t eat all three; it would make me feel sick.” He smiles, hoping to ease your guilt about taking his lunch.
“Every day, they made you lunch every day? You never eat it, so does it get thrown away?”
Yukio looks a bit guilty. “I’m not sure to be honest.”
"Well, the obvious answer is to have each of them prepare one meal for you each week. Take turns, so there won’t be three wasted meals. For the other two days, you can enjoy whatever Rin cooks," you say with a mischievous grin. Yukio catches onto the fact that you're joking, but his brother doesn't. "That's a great idea!" he exclaims eagerly, his mouth full of rice. "You should definitely do that, Yukio! Listen to _____."
As you shake your head, you lower your voice, hoping that Rin will do the same. The girls are still glaring, and their full attention is now on you, thanks to Rin telling Yukio to listen to you. "Rin, it was just a joke. It’s unreasonable to expect Yukio to accept meals from them simply because they prepare them for him. It’s disrespectful that they continue this despite his clear refusal. He’s not obligated to take the bentos just because they were made for him." It’s a toxic belief that many of us have grown up with – just because someone makes something for you, it doesn’t mean you have to accept it. "However, he should be upfront with them so they stop wasting their time and attempting to make him feel guilty for not accepting them." Yukio nods in agreement. “You’re right, I should be honest with them. I’ll grab something from the cafeteria and meet you after class ____."
“Wait, the cafeteria is pricey. I’ll eat my sandwich. This bento is for you.” Your words seem to fall on deaf ears, as he waves goodbye and heads off to grab lunch. “Well, now I feel a bit guilty.”
“Don’t. I made it, hey, try it. Do you like it? If you do, I’d be happy to make you a bento tomorrow.” He looks at you expectantly, eager for you to take a bite.
You hesitate as you pick up a tender piece of chicken, a mix of excitement and curiosity coursing through you while Rin watches from across the table. As you take your first bite, your taste buds are enveloped in a delightful fusion of sweetness and saltiness, making your eyes widen in astonishment. "Rin, this is incredible! Have you ever thought about going to culinary school? This is amazing!" you exclaim.
Surrounded by the building's peculiar interior where the twins have ushered you in, you can’t help but wonder, "Isn't this supposed to be a cram school?" The strange environment feels out of place for a school. Yukio guides you to what seems to be a classroom. As you step inside, the stark contrast to your typical classroom settings is striking—this place appears to belong to another era.
Yukio lets out a deep, weary sigh before speaking. "Yes, this is where exorcists are trained." He locks eyes with you, preparing to elaborate, but before he can continue, you interrupt and cut him off.
"Exorcist? You mean exorcising people who are possessed by demons?" Your tone expresses disbelief, causing Yukio to furrow his brow in response, while Rin looks at you with a confused expression. Out of the corner of his eye, Yukio glances at his brother. It seems you haven't been informed about anything.
"Yes," he says, glancing around. "But there are also demons that exist without possessing humans. For example, that coal tar drifting by your left shoulder," he adds. He watches for your reaction, hoping to catch a spark of realization in your eyes. Perhaps you've been surrounded by them your entire life without even knowing they were.
You turn slowly to glance over your left shoulder, anticipating a sight, but instead, all you find is the blackboard. Confused, you furrow your brow and murmur, "Is there meant to be something behind me?" This feels rather unsettling. Is he serious?
Suddenly, it became clear, although he could never have imagined that you wouldn't be able to see them. "Ah, I understand now. You need a temptaint," he says as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small vial filled with a repulsive-looking liquid. "This is rancid blood. It has the power to attract a goblin. I will apply a small amount to your finger, and the goblin will help you obtain your temptaint, a small wound inflicted by the demon." He extends his hand towards you, waiting for your acceptance so that the ceremony can proceed without delay.
You stare at the vial, then his hand. “You want to place the rancid blood on my finger so a demon will appear and bite me. Is that correct?”
After a moment he nods. “Yes.” Rin slaps Yukio’s shoulder. “Don’t say it like that! ___ it’s really not that bad.”
"Alright, then, goodbye." You’re definitely not about to get caught up in any bizarre occult nonsense. The blood is likely some sort of hallucinogen. Is the entire cram school involved in creepy occult activities, or is this just some strange joke by Yukio? He didn't seem like the joking type when it came to something like this. I suppose I judged a book by its cover. You should know better than that.
Yukio is the first to break free from the shock of your refusal. “We need you!" he exclaims, rushing after you as you step into the night.
You shake your head. Nope.
“You come from a long line of exorcists, some of whom are the strongest ever known.” Yukio reaches for your wrist, his grip firm. “Please listen to me.”
Okay, now you know this is bullshit. You glance at Rin, who appears just as determined as Yukio for you to stay. “Listen, there are no exorcists in my family. In fact, my family isn't even religious.'
Yukio shakes his head. “Your mother was an exorcist.”
What is wrong with these brothers? “No, my mother is a stay-at-home mom. She has always been a stay-at-home mom. Before that, she was a stay-at-home wife.” Your mother has never worked, and Dad is able to manage the cost of living. She never needed to get a job after university. The two of them met in university, and not long after that, you were born.
“Right, your mother was an exorcist. She left, though I’m not sure why.” He speaks like it’s something you should know.
A sense of unease washes over you. Are there hidden cameras? Is this some bizarre game show? Feeling impatient and pressed for time, you decide to return to the dorm. "Please show me how to get back to the main campus," you ask, attempting to conceal your reluctance to ask for help.
“I’ll take you.” Rin steps up before Yukio has a chance to.
As you step out of the cram school, a wave of disbelief washes over you at the sight before you. "Oh _____, what took you so long? I’m so bored," a sigh escapes the teenager standing in front of you. "Ambrosius?" Your jaw drops in astonishment. This unexpected encounter somehow exceeds the absurd tale shared by Yukio. "What are you doing here?"
Rin suddenly tenses beside you, appearing on edge for some unknown reason. He seems somewhat confused by his own reaction but struggles to relax his body. “I’m waiting for you. Let’s go.” He grabs your wrist, ignoring everything else.
“Go where?”
"Stop! What are you doing?" Rin exclaimed, desperately reaching out for your other arm in an attempt to pull you away from the strange figure that had suddenly appeared. He hadn't anticipated the boy's firm grip, and as a result, he lost his hold on you, causing you to tumble into the arms of Ambrosius. He then gently moved his hands to your shoulders, his bored expression unwavering. "I am taking her," he states with an air of authority as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Rin defends you, saying, "It doesn’t seem like she wants to go with you!" It’s not that you don’t want to go with him; you’re just confused about the situation. Why was Ambrosius suddenly here, and why was he so adamant about taking you?
“I don’t care. She’s going to bake me something.”
You can't believe he actually thinks he can just waltz in and take you to your place so you can bake something else for him? It's unbelievable how he's been ignoring you all day, only to suddenly show up to take more baked goods. "I'm not baking anything tonight," you say with determination. Even if you were inclined to, you wouldn’t reveal that to him. It looks like you'll have to forge friendships without the help of your baked treats since Ambrosius takes everything.
Rin stands defiantly across from the two of you, visibly fuming. You don’t just take someone against their will; it’s frustrating to see the green-haired weirdo has grabbed you, and Rin is ready to defend you. “Leave her alone, ___. Are you okay? I know you might be wary of me after what happened, but do you trust this guy? Please, let me walk you back to the girls’ dorm.”
You almost laugh at his remark. Doesn’t he realize how horrible that joke was? How cruel? You thought you had found a friend, but he pulled the rug out from under you. “No, I don’t completely trust him. But I trust him more than I trust you. I don’t need anyone to walk me back to the dorm. Ambrosius isn’t going to harm me or whatever you’re worried about. He just wants me to bake something, which I’m not doing tonight. So, goodnight to both of you.” People at this school are insane. You just want to go home.
As you attempt to step away once more, a sudden grip on your wrist halts you in your tracks. Assuming it's Rin, you let out a sigh and begin to speak, "Please leave me-" but the words catch in your throat as you meet a piercing gold gaze. It's not Rin. "I told you, I am not baking."
“Buy me candy.”
“I don’t have any money.” You choose honesty, figuring it’s better to be straightforward so he’ll leave you alone.
“I want to go to your dorm.”
You find yourself at a loss for words, unsure how to respond. Rin, however, swiftly takes charge and addresses the situation. "Boys aren’t allowed in the girls’ dorms! Are you stupid? Just leave her alone; you’re being creepy," he asserts, adopting a defensive stance as if getting ready for a confrontation.
Ambrosius stares into the distance with a disinterested expression. "I was in her dorm room last night," he remarks casually, as though it were perfectly normal for him to be in the girls' dorm.
“No! I mean, yes. God, it’s not what you think. I promise it’s not like that. I baked some cookies yesterday to introduce myself to some new people. He ate all the cookies and then showed up at my door last night asking for more, so he stayed while I baked some brownies, and he even helped with them.” Your excuse is pretty weak. You know that. What kind of excuse is ‘he just wanted baked goods’ for a guy to be in your dorm at night? The look on Rin’s face isn’t helping with the awkwardness you’re feeling.
He stares, jaw dropped. “You let him in your room?”
“Yeah.”
How does a creep like that get someone like ____’s attention, and I can’t even get a second glance from a girl? She let him into her dorm? She’s so pretty, how? Rin struggles to push away the intrusive thoughts as his gaze remains fixed on the boy in front of him. Why does it have to be him? "Oh, you mentioned you don’t have any friends, so he’s your... it’s one thing to have a guy in your room, but having him in your room here could lead to serious trouble." He hesitates, reluctant to say the word "boyfriend," but he knows you'll understand what he's trying to convey.
Ambrosius shifts his full attention to you. “I told you we are friends. I don’t like to repeat myself. Let’s go.”
Notes:
I just want to point out that Rin does not suddenly have a crush on MC, and MC is not going to be a character that all the guys fall for like some fics might do. Rin's reaction is more like, 'I can't get a girl, but he can.' It's not because it's just MC that he's annoyed because he has a crush or something. Kind of like his reaction to how all the girls seem to like Yukio.
Chapter 3: Chapter 3
Chapter Text
Amaimon glances down at Behemoth as he pulls you through the forest. Big brother had just called him, complaining that his friend refused to listen to the exorcist and had left without accepting the temptaint. “They’ll never force her into it, so I’ll leave it to you. After all, she is your friend~” It would be done quickly: pull her aside and let Behemoth scratch her. “Do not be the one to do it; have a smaller demon leave a scratch on her.” The underlying threat not to harm the human was clear. However, he hadn’t been expecting Okumura Rin to appear, complicating matters, but this would be fun.
“Where are we going?” you ask Ambrosius as he guides you deeper into the forest, the school becoming barely visible in the distance.
“It’s a shortcut.”
Before you have a chance to call him out on his nonsense—it’s clearly not a shortcut—you suddenly feel a sharp pain in your left forearm that intensifies with each passing second. You gasp and fall to your knees. The pain becomes almost unbearable as you look up at Ambrosius, who wears a bored expression. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “A-Ambrosius, I—" you say, clutching your arm as you gaze up at him. “Help me," you plead.
“What’s wrong?” he asks again. “It’s just a small scratch. Why are you crying?” He murmurs, lifting your arm to examine the wound. “Oh, that’s not a small scratch.” Blood runs down his hands as he pulls you closer to inspect the injury.
Then you spot it: standing behind Ambrosius is a monster. Despite the pain, you can just barely recognize its form. The only features you can make out are its large eyes and massive green arms. You scream, causing Ambrosius to flinch slightly. His gaze follows yours to the monster looming behind him. “What is that?” you gasp as another wave of pain shoots through your body.
“What’s is what? I don’t see anything.” He looks around the forest, “____ there’s nothing here.” Even with you lying at his feet, crying in pain, he still wears that bored expression. I’m going to die here, and he won’t bother to tell anyone, will he? The pain is unbearable; you close your eyes, unable to care whether you’re dying or not.
Amaimon taps you with his foot. When you don’t move, he sighs, shaking his head. "Humans are so fragile." Just as he prepares to lift you and take you to his older brother, Okumura Rin appears.
He runs to your side, screaming your name. “What did you do to her?” he shouts, confronting Amaimon directly.
“When we were walking back to the dorm, she started crying, she hurt herself, and I was planning to take her to see a doctor.” He gestures toward your arm, where the wound is beginning to turn black. Big brother is going to be angry with me.
“Rin, what are you—” Yukio says, appearing a moment later. “What happened?” He quickly rushes to your side, pulling something from his jacket to treat the wound. “What happened?” he asks once more, now focused on Amaimon as he inquires.
“I don’t know," he said, repeating the same story to Yukio about going to the dorm. “Do you know how to help her?” he asked Yukio.
“Yes, I-“
“Okay then. Goodbye.” Amaimon turns his back to the small group, since they can take care of her, he can go back and eat candy.
Rin stepped forward, seething with anger. "Bye? Bye?! Didn’t you say she was your friend? Are you really going to abandon her when she is in pain like this? Look at her! She needs a doctor. Don’t you care?” Yukio tried to pull his twin back, but Rin resisted fiercely. “Well?”
Amaimon tilts his head, contemplating. “Your brother claims he knows how to help her. So why should I stick around?" He turns and walks away without giving Rin another opportunity to scream at him.
You sit up slowly, the pungent smell of chemicals greeting you first. As your eyes adjust, you realize you’re in a strange room. The bed beneath you resembles a hospital bed, yet this clearly isn’t a hospital—the red walls feel distinctly out of place.
“How are you feeling? Your arm has been treated, but I’m sorry to say that your injury is the result of a demon.” A little black thing flies by your face at the comment. “It’s a coal tar.” He answers before you can ask what it is.
“I didn’t want this! Why did you do this?” Anger surged through you as you turned to Yukio. Hadn’t you made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with demons or exorcists? Even if you had believed him, you still wanted nothing to do with them.
Yukio slowly approaches the bed where you lie. “Please believe me, I didn’t do this. The temptaint would have only left a small scratch; you would have hardly felt it. This was not my doing.” He pauses just outside your personal space, careful not to make you any more uncomfortable than you already are.
Your left arm aches, and while the pain is far less intense than it was before, it’s still uncomfortable. “So, who did this to me? The only person I was with was Ambrosius, and he said he didn’t see the demon that attacked me.” You raise the arm that is tightly bandaged. “Demons are more active at night. It seems your friend inadvertently took a route where more demons are active, and one of them must have attacked you.”
Where is Ambrosius? Did he get attacked too? Is he okay? “My friend, is he okay?”
Yukio frowns, reluctant to reveal the truth: you were abandoned, even though Ambrosius witnessed the pain you were enduring. Without a second thought, Ambrosius walked off. “Yes, he’s okay.”
“Do you still want me to become an exorcist?”
He straightens at the comment, not entirely happy that you were harmed, but perhaps it was the catalyst you needed to join. You’ll want to protect others from suffering as well. “Yes, having you with us would be—”
“Okay, well, goodbye.” You are not going to get mixed into something like this. You are not that dumb, the pain from that demon attacking you was so intense you passed out, you were sure you were going to die.
He steps closer to you, coming uncomfortably close to you. “We need you, I told you about your family. Please-“
Once again you stop him. “I don’t know you, why should I care about whether or not you need me? Leave me alone.”
I nearly lost my life, and he expects me to join his little group? Why would I suddenly be ready to fight these demons after almost dying? Is he out of his mind? How are you supposed to cope with a situation like this? You find yourself staring off, contemplating your next move. I’m going home.
The next day suitcases are half packed and laid out in front of you when you hear a knock on the door. Without much thought about who it might be, you open it. “Ambrosius, what do you want? I don’t have anything to give you; I’ve already packed up my oven.” Turning your back to him, you step back into the dorm, and he follows. “What are you doing?” he asks, though he seems uninterested in your response.
“Well, I almost died last night. So, I’m going home.”
Big Brother was furious with him last night when he came home. “I said a scratch! You let Behemoth tear her arm open. Now she refuses to stay and wants to leave.” Amaimon attempted to defend himself, insisting it was just a scratch; how was he supposed to know the human was so fragile? Big Brother insisted she should stay because he believed she was strong, but she was not strong at all. "Since you are her friend, I’m trusting you to convince her to stay."
“Don’t leave.” He demands.
You stare in disbelief; this isn’t a request—it’s a demand. He truly believes he can tell you not to leave. Who the hell does he think he is? “Excuse me? Ambrosius, look at my arm.” You lift your left arm for him to see. “I have stitches because a fucking demon attacked me.” You don’t care that he’s unaware of their existence or that he might think you’re crazy. None of that matters because you are leaving this school and everyone in it behind.
He sits cross-legged on your bed, pulling a bag of chips from who knows where. “Big brother says you’ll be in more danger if you leave the school without training as an exorcist now," he informs you, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth as he speaks.
A swirl of emotions washes over you—disbelief, confusion, anger. “Wait, what? Ambrosius, you told me you didn’t see the demon!" You step closer, indifferent to his discomfort. In response, he leans back, causing him to lay on the bed. “I didn’t. Big brother made it so I can see them too," he lies through his teeth, reaching for another handful of chips.
Big brother? “Ambrosius, what do you mean I’ll be in danger if I leave? Are you planning to train as an exorcist? Who is your big brother?” You abandon the luggage and climb onto the bed beside him. “What is going on?”
“I don’t know.”
Furious, you snatch the chips from his hands. “Answer my questions!"
A chill trickles down your spine as he slowly sits up, a dark intensity gleaming in his eyes. “Give them back.”
After everything that has transpired in the last twenty-four hours, you choose to act sensibly. You don’t know much about him; he claims he can see the demons now, but you wonder if he was even being honest about not seeing them before. You have a nagging suspicion that was a lie. You drop the bag into his open hand, and his expression shifts back to the bored look you’re accustomed to seeing as he flops onto your bed again, as if nothing has happened.
This is not something to be playing with; anyone with common sense would swiftly distance themselves from it. Yet, as you attempt to pull away, its grip on you only seems to tighten. You take your phone out of your pocket.
Every time it rings, it feels as if your chest is constricting until finally, there's an answer. “Hello?”
You glance at Ambrosius, lounging on your bed and munching on chips, as if he hadn’t just warned you that you’re in danger unless you stay here and train as an exorcist. “Mom, are demons real?”
“___, I-“ She starts.
You cut her off, wanting a straight answer. “Are they real?”
“Yes.”
“You were an exorcist?”
“Yes.”
“You sent me to this school to train as an exorcist without even warning me? I have a huge gash in my arm from a temptaint, or whatever they call it. It hurt so painful I thought I was going to die. Nobody was there to help; Ambrosius didn’t even see the damn demon—"
“Stop!” she exclaims, her voice filled with panic as she interrupts you. “What do you mean gash? You shouldn’t have been harmed. I’m going to video call you right now.” With that, she hangs up and quickly sends a request for a video call shortly after.
You respond promptly, making no effort to conceal the boy on your bed, who appears in the background of your video. “___, tell me what happened—the whole story,” she insists as soon as you answer the call. You recount everything: from meeting Yukio and Rin at lunch to waking up in the hospital-like bed.
Her brows furrow at the story. “Ambrosius? You should have only met with exorcists. I have no information about anyone named Ambrosius." As she speaks, you see her flipping through some documents. “Only exorcists should be aware of the entrance to the cram school.”
You glare. “Who cares about Ambrosius? Can we please focus on the real issues? You sent me to this school to train as an exorcist without any warning. Demons are real, and my arm was just torn open by one! Yet all you want to talk about is Ambrosius? Let’s address the important matters.” You turn to Ambrosius on your bed. “Ambrosius, hold this for me.”
“Wait, he's in your room?!" your mom calls out, but you ignore her, concentrating instead on the bandages wrapped around your arm. As you unwrap them, you can hear her yelling for Ambrosius to provide answers, but he completely disregards her, fixated on his snacks. Once the bandages are off, you reclaim the phone.
“Look at my arm! You want to complain about Ambrosius being in my room when you sent me into a situation where I could be harmed like this?” The wound looks disgusting, dark in color, with black stitches running up your forearm. “Can you see it? This is what a demon has done, and yet you still want to place me in even more dangerous situations? Mom, what’s wrong with you? What kind of parent would do this to their child? Does Dad even know?”
“Can you please have your friend leave so we can talk.”
You glance at Ambrosius, who is now rolling a lollipop around in his mouth after finishing the chips. “Ambrosius, do you want to leave?”
He shrugs. “Not particularly.”
You turn back to your mother. “I’m not kicking him out. Give me answers.”
She sighs, knowing very well that she has raised a stubborn child. “I need you to listen to me; this is extremely important.” A solemn expression settles on her face as she speaks. “This really isn’t a conversation we should be having with him present.”
“I don’t care. He’s aware of demons, so he can stay. First, I want to know why you couldn’t at least warn me before sending me here. I have to join a class for exorcist training, and after being attacked by that demon, I really have no choice but to join, do I?”
Her solemn expression quickly shifts to annoyance. “The classes aren’t important at the moment; it runs in our family. You’ll master it in no time and likely rise through the ranks—most probably by the end of the year.” She glosses over the fact that you’ll be attending a school aimed at training to fight demons, particularly very dangerous ones.
Your mouth opens in disbelief. Does she expect you to be some kind of prodigy? Rise up multiple ranks within a year? Does she not realize it’s august! You’ve never been a prodigy in anything you’ve done. Always average, sometimes slightly above but not anything worth writing home about. “Are you insane?” Of course she’s insane. She’s put you in this position with no warnings. She left it up to a boy your age to tell you what is going on. No sane parent would do that. God, does Dad know what’s going on? Your dad is awful at keeping secrets, and you doubt he would’ve let you leave without warning you. He was too excited, he would’ve been worried or even refuse to let you go if he had known the truth. Right? Great, now you’re second-guessing your dad.
“There is something more important we need to talk about.” She speaks with an icy tone to get your attention.
“Not sure how you’re going to top this but okay.” You scoff. Nothing can be worse than the situation you are already aware of.
“Our family has a small problem. You see, one of our ancestors made a mistake fighting a demon king while alone.”
You raise a brow, “Demons have kings?” behind you, you notice Ambrosius shuffle, seemingly interested in where the conversation is going.
“Yes, the ancestor was extremely powerful. He almost killed the king, but unfortunately, he wasn’t able to succeed. Since then, our family has been searching for this king; we need to eliminate him, or he will come after our entire family seeking revenge.” You want to call her out, to dismiss her as ridiculous, but the chill in her serious grey eyes stops you.
“So, he’s hunting our family or something?” You ponder the situation. How many demon kings are there? It doesn’t quite add up that one would focus solely on your family. Shouldn’t a demon king be strong enough to have wiped them out already if that were the case?
“Yes.”
“Why do I have to be in this situation? I was living a normal life. This should have been told to me years ago. I don’t want to deal with a demon king, or any demons for that matter, and yet you expect me to fight a king?” Behind you, Ambrosius chuckles, and his amusement at your predicament helps you relax a little. It does sound ridiculous.
Your mom glares, and you can’t tell if she can hear Ambrosius behind you. “Did you not listen to me? He wants to wipe out our entire family. Look, I don’t want you to actively hunt him. If you ever encounter him, I hope you can escape without him noticing. No fighting at all.” As she speaks, her tone shifts from anger to desperation. “I never wanted you to find yourself in this situation. I kept this from you because for centuries we’ve been safe, and I thought there was no need to train you. It felt like nothing more than a legend, a story that could be dismissed. But something has changed recently; he has resurfaced within the last year. Our family members will urge you to fight, but I refuse to let you pursue him. I just want you to be capable of protecting yourself.” Her words alleviate some of the stress you've begun to feel; she doesn’t expect you to be an exorcist and never planned for it. All she wants is to keep you safe. However.
"Family members? As in you have living family members?” Everyone is meant to be dead—her parents, siblings, grandparents, everyone. Who could she possibly be talking about? Distant cousins, perhaps?
She suddenly appears very guilty. “My parents and siblings will reach out to you shortly."
Her answer angers you. “Oh? So, their spirits? Or have they risen from the dead and are walking zombies?”
She whispers your name softly, guilt consuming her alive. Still, you’ve got an awful wound on your arm, which had you convinced you were going to die, all because she kept such an important secret from you. Ambrosius nudges your foot, pulling your focus away from the screen.
“Yes?”
He reaches for your uninjured arm, pulling you closer. “Ask her which king. There are multiple; if one is hunting you, shouldn’t you know how strong they are?" He’s right. Just how many kings are there? Perhaps it’s just a low-level king who can’t hold their own against most exorcists?
“Mom, which king is it?”
She takes a deep breath, preparing herself to share this information with you. “Amaimon, the demon king of earth.”
That doesn’t offer much insight, especially since you know hardly anything about the demon kings. "Hey, Ambrosius?” you lean closer to him. “Do you know Amaimon?"
By now, he’s managed to produce another bag of chips. "Yeah," he replies, nodding as he shoves a handful into his mouth.
You concentrate on him, tuning out whatever your mother is saying in the background. “Is he strong? Should I be worried?"
“He could easily kill you," he says, meeting your gaze as he speaks. "But no, you shouldn’t worry.”
Notes:
I don't really have much to say, I hope anyone reading it is enjoying it. I've got so much planned, but I'm trying to keep all my ideas straight and fill everything in so it doesn't seem too rushed. However, I do think if Amaimon takes interest in someone there will be no holding him back.
Chapter 4
Summary:
Reminder it's a mix of OC/Reader
Edited December 17
Notes:
Just a bit of information real quick. Amaimon's feelings are not of love in these first few chapters, or even romantic. More details about that at the end.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The radar alarm blares in your ears, and your body feels heavy as you stare at the ceiling, wondering if you should get up and go to school today. On one hand, your left arm has been torn open, but you've just started classes. It would look awful to miss school so soon; how are you going to explain the bandages? As you mull over your options, the relentless thoughts awaken you further. "Damn it," you grumble, slapping your phone to silence the noise.
You never fully understood how reliant you were on your left arm until this very moment. The medication you took the night before has long since worn off, and even the slightest movement of your left arm is now tinged with discomfort.
Groaning, you grab your uniform top. This day is going to be hell.
As you stroll through the academy's grand hallways, it feels as though every gaze is fixed upon you and your bandaged arm. You recognize that this is merely a reflection of your own insecurities; in reality, most people aren't paying you any attention at all. Yet, it's difficult to shake the overwhelming sensation that they are somehow aware of your secret—that a demon once attacked you. It feels as if they can see right through you, uncovering all the truths you've just discovered.
It feels like an eternity as you walk through the halls, surrounded by the judgmental gazes of your peers. When you finally step into the classroom, you glance at the clock above the teacher's desk—fifteen minutes early. Your eyes then shift to your desk and your deskmate, who is sitting comfortably, enjoying a snack of candy and seemingly uninterested in opening his textbook.
Annoyance washes over you as last night's conversation pops into your head.
"He could easily kill you." He turns his attention to you while speaking. "No, you shouldn't worry."
Not only did he make the bold claim, but you shouldn't worry. He left without a word just moments after he spoke. If your arm hadn't been in such bad shape, you would have insisted he stay and provide answers. But with your current condition, that wasn't an option. "Ambrosius," you say, your tone sharp as you sit beside him.
"______, good morning." His voice and expression almost make you want to forgive him immediately. How does he manage to sound strangely childish at times? Why is that blank expression starting to look cute?
You glare at him. "Good morning? We need to talk. You left last-" Your mouth is covered before you can say anything else. Before you can react, he removes his hand and leans closer to speak so only you can hear. "Do you want to let others know I was in your room last night? Wasn't it you who said others can't know?" His innocent tone makes you roll your eyes, but his comment snaps you back to reality. This isn't the time or place for this conversation. "We'll talk during lunch then," you mumble, crossing your arms, only to quickly regret it as your left arm rests over your right. "Ow, shit." You notice Ambrosius stifling amusement at your pain from the corner of your eye.
As the teacher enters the classroom, your attention is drawn away from Ambrosius. Focusing becomes a struggle as the relentless ticking of the clock burrows into your mind. Tick, tick, tick—why is it so loud? It shouldn't be this noticeable from such a distance. You clench your fist, trying to block out the sound. Tick, tick, tick—why does it sound so prominent when the teacher is speaking? "You shouldn't do that," Ambrosius mumbles, his gaze fixed on the manga in front of him. "Do what?"
"You're hurting yourself."
His comment triggers pain in your right hand, and you suddenly realize what you've done. Four crescent-shaped marks are embedded in your palm. Without even noticing, you had dug your nails deep into your skin. The mark in the middle even has a shallow cut—tick, tick, tick.
You stare blankly at the board for the remainder of the time.
Finally dismissed for lunch, you pull Ambrosius from the classroom, brushing off the curious glances from a few classmates who haven't yet stepped outside.
Ambrosius doesn't resist; he lets himself be dragged across the campus. "I shouldn't worry that he can easily kill me?" you ask, coming to a halt under a large tree. "How can you say that?" As students pass by, you hear them giggling about some TV show or the latest gossip surrounding a K-pop band that has just debuted. The normal experiences of high school seem to be the 'biggest' happenings in the lives of these students at this moment. But knowing you'll never experience that carefree feeling again—because demons and exorcists will always take precedence over the latest season of your favorite show or the upcoming release from your favorite artist—leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
"Why do you think I shouldn't worry? It feels like something I really should be concerned about." When he doesn't respond, you press on. "Mom mentioned he's been seen around lately. Am I going to die within a year?" You haven't had any training, especially since he's allegedly hunting your family, and your only encounter with demons was just last night. The odds of surviving an attack from him are probably less than one percent. You flinch slightly after inadvertently brushing your arm against your sleeve.
"I want you alive." The truth escapes his lips, but without knowing his true identity, you completely overlook the fact that the demon king, who allegedly seeks to annihilate your entire family, actually wants to keep you—the weakest member of the family alive.
You raise an eyebrow. "Alright, well, I will leave my life in your capable hands." The green-haired teen decides to overlook the sarcasm that lingers in your voice.
Ambrosius smirks; after all, it doesn't really matter how you say it. His reaction catches you off guard for a moment. "Your life, your soul, in my capable hands." He extends his hand.
A bit taken aback by his reaction, you nod and lift your hand towards him. "Yeah, sure." There's no reason to argue about it; this is something you should be taking up with your mother and exorcist. This isn't his fault; Ambrosius is just awkward, and maybe this is his peculiar way of trying to make you feel better. You'll indulge his strange sense of humor. As your hands clasp, a sharp pain jolts through you. "Ow, was that your nail? Ambrosius, you really need to file them." You turn your hand over to inspect the wound, noticing tiny drops of blood forming from the small scratch.
"I'm bleeding," you grumble, reaching for your school bag in search of a tissue. Meanwhile, you miss him slipping his index finger into his mouth, sealing the contract you unknowingly made with your blood.
“_____!”
When you turn toward the sound, you're taken aback to find Rin. "Rin." You observe as he steps off the walkway, taking a shortcut across the lawn to reach you. "Rin"
"I'm sorry!" He cuts you off, apologizing with a bow. "I made you lunch; I'm sorry about what happened." Moments later, Yukio arrives, scolding Rin. "I told you to give her some space! Don't disturb her during lunch." While the older brother wants to turn back and defend his reasons for approaching you now, Rin’s attention is diverted by the green-haired individual sitting beside you. He points an accusatory finger. "You! You bastard. What are you doing here with-" A hand is quickly placed over his mouth before he can finish.
Confusion washes over you. Why is he speaking to Ambrosius like that? Ambrosius, who has now pulled out his lunch, looks up. "I am having lunch with my friend," he says slowly, as if Rin is an idiot.
"Friend? Friends don't--" Again, Yukio quickly covers Rin's mouth with his hand, effectively silencing the teenager.
"I apologize, Ms. _____. Please don't heed my brother’s words; there was simply a small misunderstanding." He doesn't disagree with Rin; he also finds it strange how her friend could leave in that situation. However, this is neither the right time nor the place for that discussion. "Rin, let’s talk about it later."
Rin shoves his younger brother off with a look of annoyance mixed with defeat. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry _____, I understand if you don't want to speak about last night. But I made you lunch; I told you I'd make you lunch today." He opens a cloth to reveal three bentos and hands you the one on top.
You stare, confused about why Rin appears so angry at Ambrosius and why he still took the time to prepare the bento for you, despite your own. "You didn't have to," you say, feeling the awkwardness as he holds out the bento to you.
Breaking the awkward stare between you and Rin, "Actually, I've learned something this morning and want to warn you ahead of time. I had planned to catch you after lunch, but since we're here now." Yukio steps forward, now looking years older than he is. "It's about your family. I've been told some of your family members will be meeting with you after school today."
You straighten up; it isn't the new information that got your attention; it's his expression. "Yukio, why do you look so forlorn? Is there something I should know about my family?" Your question captures the attention of Ambrosius and Rin. Seizing this moment of your surprise, Rin thrusts the bento into your arms. You give him a pointed look, but quickly redirect your focus back to the younger brother.
Yukio hesitates at your question, his gaze drifting to something over your shoulder as he considers his response. "I've never met them, but I'm familiar with your grandmother and aunt." He lets out a sigh before continuing, "You also have an uncle, though he seems to take after your mother in some ways."
His comments are confusing; what is that supposed to mean? "And? Is that a good or bad thing?"
"Your grandmother and aunt are a bit, how should I say this?" He searches for the right words to convey his thoughts. From what he's gathered from others, the term he’s about to use doesn’t quite capture their essence. "She is obsessed with Amaimon and the idea of exorcising him. I apologize, I don't have all the details. But please be prepared."
Be prepared. After the comment, he walks away, dragging Rin with him.
"Wait, be prepared? In what way? Like meeting an annoying relative? Like I'm in a lot of trouble; what level of preparation are we talking about?"
With his back still to you, Yukio pauses and shares what he's heard. "Maybe, like you're about to enter the lion's den. Though, that might be an understatement."
When the twins are out of sight, you turn towards Ambrosius. "God, he almost makes it sound like they're worse than demons.” You scrunch your nose at the idea.
You sigh since Rin forced the lunch and had already walked away. It would be disrespectful to return it without tasting anything. You consider baking something for him; you wonder what he might enjoy. You're already certain that lunch will be fantastic, especially after the delicious meal he prepared yesterday. As you open the bento that Rin insisted you take, a beautifully arranged sandwich filled with what you assume are perfectly seasoned vegetables catches your eye. It looks amazing. You notice that Ambrosius has shifted his full attention from his own lunch to yours; ignoring his curiosity, you grab a pair of chopsticks. The piece of broccoli almost makes you moan in satisfaction. You usually don't care much for broccoli, but he has made it taste as if it’s a vegetable from the gods. Ambrosius, noticing how your eyes light up, can’t resist trying it out for himself. Before you can even process what’s happening, he swipes a carrot from your bento and takes a bite.
"Hmm, I'm surprised." He mumbles to himself, never having expected the youngest spawn of Satan to be talented in cooking.
And that's how you found yourself sharing half of the bento with Amaimon. Surprisingly, he doesn't seem bothered as you dig into his meal. You had anticipated that he would react the same way he did with the chips, but you were determined not to be left with just half a lunch. So, you decided to go for half of it.
"You know, after what Yukio said, I'm starting to wonder if I should be more worried about meeting my grandmother than about Amaimon trying to kill me."
Ambrosius picks up half of the sandwich, "I told you Amaimon won't kill you, so I'd say so."
You stare in confusion. The only person standing before you is a man around your mother's age, with striking green eyes. Assuming he must be the brother, you scan the room for the other two.
"Are you my uncle? I thought the others in the family would be joining us." As you question him, your gaze explores the room. It resembles an empty classroom that hasn't been used for decades. The blackboard, desk, and chairs are all outdated, and cobwebs lace the chairs and corners of the room, lending it a slightly eerie atmosphere. It seems like the perfect place to have met the grandmother that your mother and Yukio spoke about.
The man nods. "I am, and I wanted to meet with you before Mom and Riko. Maybe we could train for a week or so first, and then have them join us. The two of them can be a bit." He pauses, searching for the right words. "Overwhelming." He chooses the more civil of the words he could've used. "I didn't want that to be your first impression of me. I know it might sound a bit selfish, but I would like to distinguish myself in your eyes from them."
Your gaze returns to the man, who resembles a male version of your mother. It's somewhat shocking; you hadn't anticipated what your new family members would look like, but this man unmistakably confirms his familial ties. He bears such a striking resemblance to your mother that he can’t be anything but family.
"Oh! Right, my name is Katashi. You can call me Uncle Katashi if you’d like, but if that feels a bit strange since we're just meeting, feel free to stick with Katashi." He rambles, realizing too late that his efforts to ease the awkwardness have only made it worse. "Anyway," he clears his throat, "this place feels a bit drab, doesn’t it? Why don't we find somewhere else to chat? Before we dive into the whole demon trying to kill you thing." His laugh fades into a sigh.
The two of you eventually settle in a small café tucked away in a back corner. Noticing your nervous glances at the older gentleman behind the counter, Katashi reassures you, saying, "The owner is a retired exorcist, so don't worry too much if he overhears anything. Everyone knows about our crazy family in the Japan branch." He shakes his head, mentioning family.
His comment helps you relax enough to drop your tense shoulders and sink into the comfortable armchair. Comfortable seating and great lattes, you'll have to return soon.
"Maybe we should start with if your mother has at least told you about us."
You frown, "She's only told me her family passed away."
"She's never said anything about us beyond that, about me?" he questions, his gaze intense. "What about her childhood before we supposedly died?" He stares expectantly, waiting for you to share the stories of her upbringing that she once confided in you, eager to hear that even though you thought they were gone, they're still a part of your life through those memories. He is, too, a part of your life.
You can see the hope in his eyes and start to feel guilty for something beyond your control. The few times you asked about her past, she quickly shut you down, only sharing that they had died. You stopped asking by the time you turned thirteen. "No, she's never shared anything about her life before she met Dad," you reply.
"Oh." The dim light of hope in his eyes fades. "Well, let's see." He takes a deep breath, trying to push away the hurt caused by his sister's silence about him to her daughter. "Riko is the oldest, then Yume, and then me. We come from a long line of exorcists, and as you've probably heard, there's this obsession with exorcising the demon king, Amaimon." He had wanted this conversation to be a casual getting-to-know-you chat as an uncle, but realizing that Yume hadn't shared any of this with you due to their family's fixation on Amaimon really irks him. "It's ridiculous; like Yume, I feel our family is stupid for being so obsessed for centuries. Unlike Yume, though, as the only son, I wasn't able to escape. It's unimaginable that Mom would ever allow me to leave." His fingers nervously tap against the tabletop as he shares this information with you. "But now that there are rumors of sightings, it's only gotten worse than before."
You frown. It hasn't even been confirmed. They couldn't have at least waited to pluck you up from everything you know until it was confirmed. Why is your family so fucking stupid?
"I tried to fight it, get them to leave you alone. They weren't even supposed to know of your existence." He glares at nothing, the same anger filling him that filled him when he first heard of their plan. They won't say it, but he knows the truth. You're just a sacrifice. Amaimon will come after you first, the weakest Aiko member. It'll confirm he's here and save them from having to sacrifice someone stronger for the confirmation. "I won't let it happen." He comments mainly to himself. "I've spoken with Yume. ____, we are going to keep you safe."
You fidget uncomfortably; this conversation is a lot to take in. "Do you believe it's a false sighting?"
He shakes his head. "I don't know. Either way, I'll protect you against other demons, too. I'll stay by you. If it comes to it, I will prioritize your life over my own."
It's awkward; you want to look away from his burning green eyes, but you can't. He just made a bold declaration to protect you. You can sense his honesty; he understands all the dangers that come with being an exorcist. How can you turn away from someone so willing to risk their life for yours? You grip the mug in front of you, needing something to ground yourself. Surprisingly, this moment feels more terrifying than the time you were attacked in the forest. You don't want someone you barely know to sacrifice themselves for you. Wasn't the plan just to have a casual conversation and get to know each other? Instead, he ended up overwhelming you with his burdens.
Pain shooting up your arm as you mistakenly place it on the table is what helps snap you out of the stupor. I hate them. From your late ancestors to your grandmother now. Your life is being ruined all because of them.
"Well, this is intriguing. I wonder if he understands just how uncomfortable she is right now." Mephisto chuckles behind his desk, observing the screen that captures this awkward interaction. "Amaimon, can you believe they're intending to use her as a sacrifice for you?"
Amaimon chews on his thumbnail as he stares at the screen. "I don't understand these humans, big brother. Can't I just kill them? They're annoying me."
"_____ and her uncle?"
"_____ is mine. Can I kill her grandmother?"
Mepshito laughs at his younger brother's declaration. "Yours?"
Amaimon nods. "She gave me her soul."
That shocks Mephisto; it certainly wasn't something he ever expected. Knowing there's no point in arguing—especially if the foolish girl actually made a contract with him—Mephisto sighs. "She what? Amaimon, I told you to behave!" Why do his younger brothers always cause him so much trouble? ____'s parents are going to be furious.
"She offered," Amaimon replies as he stands to deliver this new information. "Did she really? She offered you, Amaimon, Demon King of Earth, her soul." Mephisto shoots his younger brother an annoyed glance. "I want to know how you managed to trick her into it."
"I told you, she offered," Amaimon shrugs, unfazed. Sure, she might not have realized she was making a contract with Amaimon, but she said the words and bound it with blood.
Mephisto frowns at his back. "And where are you going?"
Amaimon tilts his head. "To kill her grandmother," he states, sounding as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "She sounds like she's going to be annoying to deal with."
"No."
Knowing he couldn't defy his big brother, Amaimon let out a sigh. With a quick snap of his fingers changes his appearance back into Ambrosius. "I want cookies," he interjected, preempting the question Mephisto was about to ask. "She's just met her uncle for the first time; perhaps it would be wise to give them some space first," he suggested. "A normal human would take the hint and keep their distance." Amaimon glanced over his shoulder. "I'm not human, big brother. Why should I care about what a human would do?" Mephisto's brow twitched in annoyance, but he held his tongue.
Notes:
Because there could be confusion about Amaimon claiming Reader as his, it's not meant to be a cute 'aww; he likes her~' The 'friendship' is really just him wanting to own her like a little toy or pet, something fun for him to play with.
I've got like a hundred ideas for this story. The problem is getting to the point that these ideas start lmao. Maybe at least three chapters until the big ideas start playing out. *it's not a huge list* I am getting the family members' names straight, so at the end of the next chapter, I will post a list of the names of OCs and their relation to MC (you). I usually don't enjoy a lot of OCs when reading reader fanfics; I assume others feel the same while reading. Just know that they aren't going to play a considerable part, like huge chapters dedicated just to them. They are only here for where the reader's bloodline comes from and the hatred for Amaimon. I promise there isn't going to be an annoying amount of Reader and OC family members content.
Chapter 5: Chapter 5
Summary:
Edited December 17
Notes:
MCs family is not going to be a focus. Other than getting an idea of where she/you come from, and a few other details they're not going to be a huge part that sways away from the main story which is MC/you and Amaimon
Real quick family names
Mother - Yume - green eyes black hair.
Dad - Yasu - MC's eye color and hair (you decide)
Uncle - Katashi - green eyes black hair
Aunt - Riko - dark brown, almost black eyes with black hair
Grandmother - Ema black hair - grey eyes
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
While you struggle to process your uncle's, a stranger's words, a sudden ding resonates throughout the cafe, signaling the entrance of a new customer. You turn your attention to the door, a surprised gasp escaping your lips. There stands Ambrosius, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that leaves you momentarily breathless. Noticing your distraction, Katashi shifts his focus to the teenager in the doorway.
Breaking eye contact, Ambrosius glances toward the cafe owner or, more accurately, the glass display case below them. A colorful array of cakes fills the display, showcasing both traditional Japanese and Western delicacies. "___," Ambrosius calls as he strides closer to the display. "Do you want a cake?" Even though you know he’s addressing you—who else could he possibly mean?—you find yourself too bewildered to respond. What's stranger: his unexpected appearance or his offer to buy you a slice of cake? He shrugs at your silence and places an order with the owner. A few moments later, he's seated beside you, sliding a mousse chocolate cake into view.
Katashi is even more shocked than you when the teen sits at the table without hesitation, slipping into the booth beside his niece without bothering to ask for permission. "Sorry, we were having an important conversation," he hints, anticipating the embarrassed expression and the apologetic words that would tumble from the boy's lips as he quickly excused himself. Instead, he's met with a blank stare, showing no signs of remorse for interrupting. "Okay," the boy shrugs. Katashi can't shake the feeling that the way this green-haired kid seems to relax in his seat is a mocking gesture. I don't like him. He knows better than to speak further; _____ will choose this friend over him and will likely leave if this boy decides to go. Perhaps, though, it's a blessing in disguise. His original plan had been simply to get to know her, without delving into heavy topics. With this new friend around, he wouldn’t wander into serious conversations that require closure.
You observe the interaction with a sense of awkwardness, yet you're not surprised to see Ambrosius make himself comfortable at your table. "Thanks," you nod toward the cake. "Ambrosius, this is my uncle Katashi." The term feels strange as it leaves your lips, referring to this stranger as your uncle. "And this is my friend Ambrosius." The introduction is clumsy; Ambrosius seems indifferent to the dark-haired man in front of him, while Katashi doesn't do a good job of hiding his irritation.
"So, let's take some time to get to know each other," Katashi says, maintaining eye contact with you as he speaks, trying to overlook the rude teenager beside him.
"Okay." Unsure what to say, you agree and wait for him to start.
Despite wanting to establish a relationship with you, he feels just as awkward and struggles to know where to begin. "Okay, well." You watch him begin to sweat, tapping his fingers against the tabletop as he ponders what to say. "Oh! What's your favorite color? What’s your favorite food? What hobbies do you have? What do you like to do in your free time?"
His questions come out in a rush, almost overwhelming. You struggle to catch each one and answer them in order. You share your favorite color, food, and a few other details. "I enjoy baking as a hobby. As for spending my free time, I would sometimes hang out with friends, but since I haven't even been here a week, so-"
Katashi's green eyes sparkle with excitement as he eagerly interrupts you. "How about I take you out this weekend? Have you ever been to an amusement park? Or perhaps I could show you around town to explore. It’s entirely up to you!" When you don’t respond right away, his enthusiasm fades into a sense of awkwardness. "I’m sorry; I got a bit too carried away. I really miss Yume, and I genuinely hope we can develop a close relationship despite everything that’s happened."
Your attention drifts away from the excited man across from you. "Ambrosius, that's my cake!" you protest as his fork hovers over it. He simply shrugs, replying, "You're not eating it." With your good hand, you pull the cake to your side. "I want it," you insist, positioning yourself to shield the cake from your friend. You notice he hasn't even finished the cheesecake he bought for himself. "What about your cheesecake?"
He leans over your shoulder, his chest pressed against your back, as he struggles to get a bite of your cake. "I want to try the chocolate cake."
Amaimon frowns as he tries to get a piece of cake from you. He knows that big brother would be angry if he used any of his real strength, so he's left struggling like an ordinary human would.
Katashi watches the scene before him with annoyance. How dare that boy get so close to you. It's disgusting watching him climb on you as the two of you wrestle over the cake. "Give him the cake, I'll buy you another slice." He speaks up. Despite having just met you, he already feels a strong connection to you as his sister's only child. He wants to protect you and keep that stupid boy away from you. It's disgustedly inappropriate.
"I don't want another slice." You know it's dumb; that's what primary school students would say, but you can't help but be annoyed with Ambrosius. "If you ask like a normal person, I'll let you try it." You mumble while elbowing him in the ribs. Within seconds, he's off you, sitting like he had been before the attack. "I want to try it." His expression is blank as if he hadn't just been struggling with you over a slice of cake. Before Katashi can cut in again, you slide the cake towards Ambrosius. "Here." Without hesitation, he sinks his fork into it.
Fury consumes Katashi; despite knowing he shouldn't be so upset about the interaction before him, he can't help but feel this way. He really dislikes this boy. "He didn't even ask!" he snaps, sounding rather childish. As an adult, he knows better than to react this way. So why does this boy provoke such a juvenile response in him?
You turn, shocked at your uncle's outburst. Why is he so angry? Ambrosius is the one who bought the cake in the first place. Sure, he didn't ask directly, but over the past few days, you have grown accustomed to his unusual behaviors. If it doesn't trouble you, why does it concern Katashi so much?
Katashi glares as the teen before him takes another bite of your cake, golden eyes glinting with mockery. "It's okay," you mumble, unhesitatingly digging your fork into Ambrosius' cheesecake. "I'll just take some of his," you shrug, placing the fork in your mouth.
The remainder of the interaction passes in silence, with Ambrosius ignoring your uncle, who, in turn, attempts to incinerate him with a fierce glare. The awkwardness becomes unbearable, prompting you to rise the moment you finish the last bite of your chocolate cake.
"There is a pop quiz tomorrow that I need to study for." You hint, wanting an escape from this awkward situation.
Katashi jumps up. "Right! Sorry, why don't I walk you to your dorm?" He offers, expecting the annoying green-haired teen to get the hint and give you and him some space to talk.
"She's going to my room." Ambrosius' comment completely catches you off guard. What the hell?
Katashi's nose flares. "That's against the rules."
"I don't care."
Amaimon finds some amusement in the protective uncle's reactions. So, he continues. "Or would you rather me spend the night in your room?" He questions bluntly, sounding too serious for Katashi.
After a brief moment, you regain your ability to speak and respond quickly. "Ambrosius," you hiss. "I’m not going to your room, and you’re not spending the night. You know I only have one bed." You roll your eyes in exasperation.
"That two can fit on."
Your ability to speak falters as your face heats up. Why would that idiot say something like that, especially in front of—oh. "Let's just go." Rolling your eyes, you grab his wrist; he's clearly just trying to provoke the man. "I'll bake you some brownies if you help me with the oven and mixing everything." You glance at your fuming uncle. "It's okay, I'll walk back with Ambrosius. He's in my class, so he can help me study." You lie, knowing he won't actually study, but maybe you can use the brownies as leverage to get what you want.
"Boys aren't supposed to be in your dorm." Katashi attempts to argue.
You nod. "Yeah, so please don't tell anyone." And with that, Katashi watches helplessly as you leave the cafe with the current bane of his existence.
The owner laughs as the teens leave. "Ah, first love, it's always so cute."
Katashi's head snaps towards the owner. "Love?! Are you kidding me?"
The owner raises his hands in feigned innocence. "Now, now, don't be angry with me. They're at that age, aren’t they? The classic cute good girl meets bad boy cliché. My wife is going to love this!" He chuckles as Katashi smolders with anger. "He’s a bad boy?" The words sound strange coming from him. "He's not a good kid?" He tries again, attempting to make it sound less creepy.
The owner shrugs. "He walked into this café without any regard for the fact that you were clearly having an important conversation. Ignoring the hints to leave, he made himself comfortable. Now, it seems he's heading back to her dorm room. That doesn’t sound like something a good kid would do. Are you planning to tell Yume?"
Katashi freezes, contemplating whether to inform Yume. If she finds out that he allowed her daughter to leave with a boy heading back to her dorm, she would be furious. "But I suppose if you do tell her, she'll be furious with you for not stopping it." A hearty laugh escapes him.
"I hate you, Arata."
The man laughs louder.
After allowing himself to be dragged down the street, you release his wrist. "I'm going to get in a lot of trouble if he tells my mom you mentioned sleeping over." You grimace at the thought. "Why did you do that? It's bad enough that you’re hanging out in my dorm since it's against the rules, but mentioning sleeping over in my bed?" Even though you don’t know Katashi well, his reaction feels oddly familiar, reminiscent of how a close family member would behave in that situation. It’s quite unnerving to see a stranger act that way.
"It was entertaining," Ambrosius admits with a shrug. "Also, it's true, your bed can fit two people."
You want to argue further, yet deep down, you realize it's futile. He remains indifferent to your family's potential reaction to the thought of him sleeping in your room, as well as the consequences that could arise if they found out. The walk to the dorm is brief, and oddly enough, there are no students around to witness a boy entering the girls-only dormitory. "Take the stairs," you suggest, nudging him in that direction while continuing on your way toward the elevator.
Upon reaching the floor, you move toward the emergency stairway, weighing your options: should you wait for him, or should you head to your room and leave the door open? Hearing no sounds from the stairway, you opt to leave the door ajar.
"Since I can't move my left arm, I need your assistance to gather the oven and other supplies." You pull a box closer as Ambrosius walks through the doorway. "I suppose you'll be making the entire batch by yourself. But I'll lend you a hand."
Amaimon focuses on your arm, feeling regret for his actions for the first time. He realizes he should have heeded Big Brother’s warning about the scratch; now he has to do everything. "Fine."
He quickly removes everything from the boxes, even helping to carry out the ones containing your cooking supplies. "Thank you. I really appreciate it," you admit, genuinely grateful for this friend. You suspect that Rin wouldn't have entered your room due to the rules, making Ambrosius your only option besides doing it yourself. He swiftly organizes everything, following your instructions.
A vibration from your phone catches your attention; an unknown number pops up.
Did you get back safe?
It doesn't take long to realize who it's from. You'd think he'd at least let you know who is texting first.
I did, thanks. Uncle Katashi, right?
Oh! I'm sorry; I should've started with that. Yes, I'm your uncle. You were joking about that boy going to your room, right?
You raise a brow at the text, then take a photo of Ambrosius measuring out cocoa powder without hesitation.
No.
Irritated by his questions, especially since he's a stranger, you decide to turn off notifications from him.
If he tells mom I'll just let her know it was a joke because he was prying too much.
"I don't like him," you admit to Ambrosius, tossing your phone aside. "He makes me uncomfortable. He started to trauma dump on me within an hour of meeting. But if what he says about my other family members is true, he's probably someone I’ll have to accept. It sucks."
You glance at Ambrosius, who doesn't bother answering. Instead, he's focused on mixing the wet ingredients to add to the dry. It's not that you're surprised that his current priority is the brownies. "He mentioned Amaimon." You huff in annoyance. "Honestly, from the little I've just learned from him, I think I'd rather Amaimon kill me instead of deal with whatever crazy-ass family drama I'm about to be pulled into."
"He's not going to kill you."
"Well, if it's going to be the nightmare Katashi hinted at. It doesn't sound like a bad option." You frown, a sudden realization hitting you. Are you doing the same thing Katashi had just done with you? This isn't something you should be bothering Ambrosius about. "Sorry." You fall back onto the bed, flinching as your left arm hits the bed. "Make sure you use that to scrape everything out of the bowl."
Amaimon stares at the bowl, annoyance filling him. He wants this family of hers to disappear, considering the lack of strength coming from that uncle, and they won't even be entertaining to waste time on. Big Brother claims _____ is important, but with how weak that uncle was, he doubts the others will be useful. He's still trying to figure out why Big Brother thinks you're so important. He bites the end of his thumb in irritation.
Notes:
If you don't like ___ for filling in your name, please let me know what you prefer.
Chapter 6: Chapter 6
Summary:
I feel like this is a filler so I can push to get to my next two chapters. I'm not that impressed with it. But hopefully it's not too bad.
Edited december 18
Notes:
I don't have a beta so I hope this chapter is half-decent. I have rewritten the chapter three times, completely different each time. I just need to push through this chapter to move on. The next chapter will be more interesting, I promise. I have great ideas for this story; the problem is building up to those ideas. MC will find out the truth soon. Regarding Ambrosius actually being Amaimon.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
he ones she bakes taste better." He admits. Mephisto grins again as his younger brother opens the door to be teased more. "Aw, that's probably because she bakes hers with love." Amaimon furrows his brow in confusion. "Love? That doesn't make sense." Mephisto grins. "Yes, it's common for humans to share food with those they care about, hence it's made with love. If you pay attention, you'll notice that teenagers and young adults often offer food to those they love or wish to impress." His grin widens as he sees the gears turning in his younger brother's mind. "Of course, they also cook for friendship," he adds more quietly. "With baked goods like cookies and brownies, it's common to share with all friends. But making a personal bento for someone is different."
For the next twenty minutes, Mephisto continues to tease his younger brother and sharing with him different customs, including how teenagers make bentos for people they are interested in romantically, filling Amaimon’s mind with various thoughts about Rin's friendship with _____. Unbeknownst to him, these thoughts do not sit well with Amaimon. "Well, either way, her brownies are better. So if you wish to keep receiving them, you better stay on her good side," Amaimon shrugs, seemingly unbothered by the idea. So far, she has kept him entertained, especially since he isn't allowed to play with Rin. "Oh, speaking of your new friend, would you like to tell me how you tricked her into giving you your soul?" Mephisto asks, aware that his younger brother wouldn't joke about something so serious.
"I told you, she offered."
His eyes narrow, tone becoming more threatening. "Amaimon."
Amaimon turns with an innocent expression. "It's true, Big Brother." Mephisto's eye twitches. "Why don't you tell me why she offered you her life? Is that what she said?"
The Earth King shifts his gaze to the ceiling, attempting to recall the exact phrasing. "I will leave my life in your capable hands," he quotes what you had told him earlier that day. "I said, 'Your life, your soul, in my capable hands.' She agreed and formed a blood contract with me."
Mephisto sighs; why do his younger brothers always cause problems? It's becoming a tiresome pattern. "So, she unknowingly gave you her soul," he observes, shaking his head dramatically. "Fine, but I need her, so ensure that no harm comes to her. Take care of your pet. Do not harm her, or else you'll face something far worse than me."
Amaimon nods, barely listening to the warning.
"Go entertain yourself elsewhere for now." As Amaimon makes his way to the window, he adds as an afterthought, "_____ is not an option for entertainment. Humans require sleep."
The classroom is silent as you sit at your desk, twenty minutes before class starts. Being alone in such a large room filled with desks, facing the board, feels awkward. The incessant ticking of the clock is distracting.
"Why are the ones you made better than mine?" You suddenly lurch forward and turn; you hadn't even heard him enter the classroom. Ambrosius stands beside you, a look of accusation on his face. "What?" Seeing him tower over you while upset is somewhat intimidating. "The brownies," he says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, he hadn't said anything about them last night. "There wasn't much of a difference when they were warm, but now they taste off," he complains to you. "I don't know?" They didn't taste different to you last night. He passes a container with a few brownies, and it's surprising that he still has some left. "Try one," he insists, thrusting the container towards you. Amaimon watches as you take a bite, expecting you to have a reaction to the fact they aren't like yours. Though, when confusion fills your expression, he frowns.
Even at room temperature, these brownies melt in your mouth, exactly how that recipe should. "Ambrosius, they taste just like mine." You reach for the water bottle in your bag, struggling to clear your mouth because they are so fudgy. "They're good; I really need one with a latte or something," you admit, taking another bite. The teen across from you frowns. "They're good, but they do not taste like yours."
"I'm sorry, Ambrosius, but they do taste just like mine. I shared the recipe with you, and you followed it perfectly." You watched him carefully mix everything together, ensuring he didn't overbake or underbake them. "Some people prefer something baked by someone else, even if it's the same recipe they use. Perhaps it's a situation like that?" You struggle to find the right words to comfort him; offering to bake more, given the pain you're experiencing, is certainly not an option.
You observe him as he briefly struggles with his thoughts before speaking. "Big brother said that yours probably tastes better because they are made with love." Your eyes widen in disbelief, while his blank expression doesn't change.
You're at a loss for words; how can you possibly respond to something like that? The idea of baking with love never crossed your mind until now, but now he's suggesting your brownies taste better than his because they were most likely made with love.
"So, bake me more."
His expression doesn't sway as you look at your arm pointedly.
You sigh. "Sure."
The visible heat waves shimmering off the pathway elicit a groan from you. Why is it so hot today? Perspiration trickles down your forehead, despite having wiped it just minutes ago with your last tissue. The sensation of sweat rolling down your forehead and along your neck makes you grimace. Beside you, Ambrosius strolls along, seemingly unbothered, while you feel as if you're nearly dragging yourself toward the meeting.
“____!” An excited black-haired man dashes towards you. Katashi. He also seems unbothered by the heat, his huge grin radiating warmth as he approaches. "Hey! Do you want to grab lunch with me?" You notice him deliberately ignoring the teenager standing next to you. His enthusiasm makes you feel uneasy, almost pressuring you to accept the invitation instead of declining.
"I'm sorry," you begin, trying to sound sincere rather than uncomfortable. "My friend makes me lunch." His gaze quickly shifts to Ambrosius. "Oh, you don't seem like the type who would make lunch for a friend." He doesn't bother to conceal the disdain in his voice.
"I'm not."
Katashi appears annoyed at first but quickly brightens up. "That's great, so you have other friends, " he says. However, his enthusiasm wanes as someone approaches, carrying two bentos. "You?" he asks, his expression turning into a frown.
"Huh?" the approaching teen halts, puzzled. "Is something wrong?"
Katashi's gaze shifts between the blue-eyed teen and the golden-eyed one. "He makes you lunch?" Amaimon observes as confusion and annoyance fills the human's face The words of his older brother from the previous night echo in his mind: teenagers extend kindness to those they love or wish to pursue romantically. He blinks, swiftly concealing his disgust at the thought of his younger brother trying to court his human.
"Yeah." You shrug.
Katashi's expression turns disapproving. "Don't you have any girlfriends?"
You glance at Ambrosius, then at Rin. "I haven't had the chance to make other friends yet; it hasn't even been a week since this nightmare began. Why does it matter? I'm allowed to be friends with boys." You frown, adding, "Why would you try to make my friendships sound toxic?"
Rin, not reading this situation well, gets excited. "Oh, that's right. You haven't met Shiemi yet. I'll introduce you as soon as I can."
"Sounds good," you reply, turning your back to Katashi, feeling frustrated with this stranger’s behavior. Even your own father respects who you're friends with. The stranger has no right to make your friendships seem strange. "So, I'll see you tonight at cram school. I was hoping we could have lunch to discuss my mother’s arrival, but..." He shrugs. "I'll see you later." With that, Katashi turns away from your small group, leaving without a backward glance.
"Is everything okay?" Rin asks, finally catching up to the uncomfortable situation. You shrug and turn towards the teenager. "Yeah, he's an uncle, but we only met for the first time last night, so it's a bit awkward. Anyway, don't worry about the weird uncle. How are you?"
Rin grins brightly, "Great, I made you lunch." He holds out the neatly wrapped bento. Ambrosius frowns as his older brother's words replay in his mind. Without a moment's pause, he pushes the bento box away from you. "We're going to eat with my uncle."
Before you can process what’s happening, Ambrosius pulls you away from Rin and the bento. "Wait, Ambrosius, Rin made me lunch. It would be rude not to..."
"It's okay ___! I can easily eat two; enjoy your lunch with his uncle." He's grinning like an idiot as he waves you off.
Before long, you find yourself standing in front of the eccentric headmaster, who greets you with a smile, albeit with a hint of confusion. "Hello, Miss Aoki! To what do I owe the pleasure?" His puzzled gaze drifts toward Ambrosius. "You didn't mention you would be bringing a friend today. Have you had lunch?"
Ambrosius stares blankly. "We're here for lunch."
The headmaster grins brightly. "Oh! That's great. I-"
"Not with you," he replies before continuing down the hallway you both had been walking through, expecting you to follow. Just as you prepare to excuse yourself from the headmaster, he calls out for Ambrosius. "Wait, let's have a quick chat first. I'll have lunch sent to the dining room. Miss Aoki, it's the last room on the right. Please make yourself comfortable while I speak briefly with my nephew."
Within seconds of the human entering the dining room, Mephisto turns to Amaimon with a frown. "What are you doing?"
"What do you mean?" Amaimon questions, though his eyes on the closed dining room door.
Mephisto frowns. "Oh, I suppose I didn't mention this. I want her to grow closer to Rin. You see, she's a crucial piece in my plans for the future. If she falls in love with Rin, it will solidify my strategy. I’m confident he'll fall for her easily." Mephisto reveals part of his plan, deliberately omitting the more vital details. The only thing Amaimon needs to understand is that ____ must establish a relationship with their younger brother. Perhaps Amaimon could even...
"No."
Mephisto's thoughts abruptly cease, and his expression shifts to one of confusion. "What do you mean ‘no’?"
"She is my human." Amaimon reminds his older brother. "I have her soul."
Before Mephisto can argue back, Amaimon swiftly strides to the dining room, casting a glance at his brother over his shoulder as he opens the door. "____, let's go."
Twenty minutes later, you follow Ambrosius through town, your stomach growling with hunger. You still haven't had lunch, and there's only half an hour left before you're expected back in class. I guess lunch isn’t happening today. You frown at his back. Normally, you would just leave to grab lunch without him, but something has felt off since his meeting with his uncle, and you can’t shake the guilt of leaving him alone.
Huffing in annoyance, you sit at your desk; Ambrosius slips into the seat beside you without a word or even a glance in your direction. You never did get lunch.
Notes:
I kind of lost my job so I have plenty of time to write. So the next chapter should be out by the end of this week, maybe two chapters.
Chapter Text
Ambrosius walks to your right as you head to meet Katashi. He hasn't said much since lunch, appearing irritated and annoyed by everyone entering his line of sight. You bite your tongue, feeling both annoyed and starving; despite your desire to ask him for a bit of space today, something inside you holds you back. Perhaps his uncle hurt his feelings, and he just needs a friend right now. As you make your way to the cram school, the temptation to skip is strong, but you know that Katashi will be expecting you—and might even hunt you down if you don't show up for class.
Maybe I should tell him I haven't eaten. He'll probably let me eat something first. You fill yourself with false hope, hope that vanishes quickly upon reaching the door. Katashi stands by the entrance, pacing back and forth; he seems to be mumbling to himself, looking both furious and fearful.
His head snaps towards you as if he can sense your presence. He likely can; who knows what exorcists are truly capable of? “_____.” Katashi rushes forward, his expression a mix of panic and anger. "I'm sorry, she told me it would be tomorrow." His clammy hands grasp your shoulders tightly.
"She said tomorrow." He snaps, more to himself this time.
You nudge him away, uncomfortable with the proximity. "What are you talking about?"
"My mother."
Behind him, the door swings open, revealing an older woman whose steely grey eyes bore into your own. Katashi flinches. She couldn't spare him a moment with you? He could have gathered his thoughts. "Like a demon summoned from hell," he spits out angrily, loud enough for you to hear. His entire demeanor shifts; now standing tall, he turns to the woman with a chilling glare that rivals her own.
The woman completely ignores her son, directing all her attention toward you. "So, you're Yume's daughter?" She gazes at you, her expression tinged with disgust, making it evident from the start that she disapproves of you. It doesn't matter; I don't like her either. "I had intended to test you, to evaluate your strength. But looking at you now, it's obvious you have none."
She's not wrong, but it shows how cruel a woman she is. The only reason she said that was to make you feel bad. You don't. She just looks dumb, stating the obvious. "Did Yume teach you anything? About demons or exorcists?"
Katashi cuts in. "No, she hasn't. Why would she bother teaching her daughter about a world she escaped?"
The woman pays no attention to her son; instead, she is entirely focused on you, wanting to hear your response.
“No.”
"You have a lot of catching up to do—years' worth of information and training. We won't be going easy on you. Katashi clearly doesn't care about training, so Riko will-" Once again, Katashi interjects, "I will train her! Riko is the weakest among us. If you want her to gain strength as an exorcist, I will be the best choice to help her."
She ignores him and continues her conversation. "So Riko will train you; she will push you beyond your limits. Amaimon, the Demon King of Earth, has been spotted and is after our family. We need as much power as possible. Being an Aoki, you should be able to catch up quickly. You'll at least be able to help defend us in this war against him."
War? You blink, thrown off by the word. The term "war" seems too strong when it's simply Amaimon against your family. Does this woman really understand what a true war entails? Is she attempting to escalate a battle into a war? Unless Amaimon targets those beyond your family, it's hard to perceive it as a real war. Grossly dramatic.
She doesn't give you a chance to respond. Instead, she calls out into the doorway, summoning another woman with black hair. "This is Riko, your aunt." Compared to the other family members, the woman appears quite ordinary—black hair and dark brown eyes. Like many Japanese natives, she could easily blend into a crowd. However, her attention isn't on you; it's directed toward the person standing to your right.
"Another exorcist in training?" She questions the green-haired teen. Ambrosius stares back, looking bored.
"He is not our concern; our focus is on ____." Your grandmother interrupts before you can introduce Ambrosius as your friend. "Riko, go test if she is a tamer."
Your aunt beckons you to follow her, though Katashi interrupts with a scoff. "Tamer? There hasn't been a tamer in the Aoki family for centuries."
As you are pulled into the school, Katashi is left behind, unnoticed. Ambrosius turns away, heading towards an unknown destination. You find yourself in an old classroom, reminiscent of the one you had been in with Yukio before. With exorcists being so important, why don't they update the facilities?
Riko steps in front of you, holding a handful of small white square slips of paper, each featuring something you've never seen before. As she quickly explains the different Meisters and reveals which style she uses, you struggle to keep up; it's a lot of information to absorb all at once. After a lengthy explanation—much of which you can barely remember—she hands you one of the slips. "Few people possess the ability of a Tamer, as Katashi mentioned earlier." She tilts her head toward her younger brother. "There hasn't been a Tamer in the Aoki family for centuries, so it's doubtful that you'll be one. Still, every exorcist is tested."
She outlines the steps needed to form a blood contract with a demon. Please, God, don't let me become a tamer, you silently plead to the god you've unknowingly forsaken. The thought of binding yourself to a demon is terrifying. "If you summon one, do NOT lose confidence. If the demon turns on you, simply tear up the paper, and it will vanish," she warns. With trembling hands, you gaze at the paper, feeling the weight of her words. Don't lose confidence; but in truth, you lack even the confidence to lose. "Drop some of your blood on it and speak whatever comes to mind," Riko advises.
Across from you, your grandmother Ema observes, while Katashi looks frustrated that they're bothering with this.
Gulping, you lift the paper and pause. "Um, how do I get blood for this?" Do Tamers carry a vial of their own blood? Is it common for them to have a knife on hand? How does this all work?
"Bite your thumb," Katashi interjects before his mother or sister have a chance to respond. They would likely criticize you for asking such a question.
Drawing blood from yourself is much more complex than you ever thought. You bite your thumb, but biting it hard enough to draw blood is difficult. Who wants to bite themselves that hard? Your brain stops you from harming yourself in such a way. After a little while of failing to draw your own blood, Riko holds her hand out. "I'll use my nail to cut your-"
With wide eyes, you snap, "No! Do you know how many germs are under fingernails?" You step back from the woman who seems a bit unhinged. Yes, there are plenty of germs in your mouth as well, but at least you know where your mouth has been. Her fingernails, however, are a mystery.
Before Riko and Ema have a chance to express their anger about your inability to draw blood and refusal to let the crazy aunt proceed, Katashi swiftly pulls a knife from his pocket. "There should be disinfectant in the desk. I'll clean the knife, and you can apply more to your finger after we move on from this test." As he speaks, he hands the knife to you and begins rummaging through the desk drawers, quickly locating what he needs.
"Remember, say whatever comes to mind after adding the blood." Riko reminds once the knife and your skin have been wiped with the disinfectant. With a tight grip, you hold the knife at the point of the blade just above your left little finger. Aware they're staring expectedly, you take a deep breath and slice into the skin. Blood quickly leaks from the wound; after placing it on the paper, words leave your lips in a whisper.
As the puff of smoke dissipates, you stare in horror, your blood running cold. When you turn to look at something—anything—else, a steely grey glare from your grandmother makes your stomach churn. Her expression is one of fury and disgust at what you've just summoned. "A hobgoblin," she snarls.
The same type of demon that slit your arm open is staring at you, following your line of sight each time you turn from it. Ema continues. "What kind of Aoki summons a hobgoblin as their familiar? Amaimon keeps a hobgoblin as a pet." To your left, Riko looks at you just as disgustedly as Katashi looks horrified.
"W-what? Can I summon something else? How do I-"
"You stupid girl!" Riko retorts sharply. "You're bound to this repulsive hobgoblin. Every time you summon a familiar, it will always be the same one. How shameful for an Aoki to enter into a blood contract with such a creature!"
The round, green creature looks up at you expectedly; it's about the size of a medium dog, standing just at your knees. Its large, burgundy arms sweep the floor as it walks closer to you. You wait for the attack; fear has wholly consumed you, and any false confidence you had quickly washed away at the sight of this demon. Your left arm burns, not letting you forget what it was that tore your arm open. The summoning circle slips from your hand as you stare at the creature. Once it touches the ground, the hobgoblin lunges at you, and you cringe in terror. Yet, the attack you anticipate doesn't occur. Instead, the hobgoblin wraps its arms around your neck, clinging to you like the stuffed monkeys with Velcro arms you had as a child. It emits an odd noise while nuzzling against you, displaying surprising affection. Before you can fully comprehend the situation, the hobgoblin vanishes in a puff of smoke. Across from you stands Riko, clutching the torn summoning circle, her expression revealing a hard-swallowed disdain for you.
"Hobgoblins are kin to Amaimon, and their presence brings shame to our family name. Never summon them again. They are also weak and useless demons; you should feel embarrassed for calling upon something so pathetically inferior."
You stare at the torn paper in her hands, pathetically weak. Not only are you so weak you get your arm torn open by a hobgoblin, but you also summon one. She's right, I'm weak. Can I leave now? I'm clearly not cut out to be an exorcist.
It's awkwardly silent for a moment; you want to leave. Yell out. This is proof I'm not meant to be an exorcist. Can I go home now? But the words don't leave your lips. The steel-eyed woman is the first to speak up. "It's time to test your physical strength."
"Stand up." Riko stands over you, expectantly. When you don't move, she brings the wooden sword down upon your left arm. Pain erupts at the point of impact, swiftly spreading throughout your entire body. You scream, the sound echoing off the walls of the training room. Riko flinches back. "Like a damn banshee," she hisses, covering her ears. "Screaming isn't going to exorcise demons. Get up."
To the side, Ema and Katashi are watching, each with completely different thoughts about how you are managing this first day of training. "I can't believe an Aoki is this weak."
"Let her go home. As you said, she's weak," Katashi says, observing as you struggle to stand, dirt from the training room floor clinging to you. "This is sad to watch. Let her leave; she can't stand up to Amaimon. She'll only hinder our efforts."
Ema doesn't bother giving Katashi an answer, instead speaking to you, disgusted by your lack of actions. "Get off the floor."
It hurts, and you find yourself staring into space as Riko and your grandmother continue to urge you to get up. "This is nothing compared to facing a demon!" Riko reminds you, expecting you to spring up with newfound determination. But you don't. You have no interest in fighting demons or exorcising them. Instead, you choose to ignore the women insisting that you stand. You slowly settle into a seated position with your legs crossed.
"I don't want this. I'm not strong enough. Katashi says the Aoki family has trained for centuries. I didn't even know you existed a week ago. If Amaimon has truly been sighted, I stand no chance against him. I'd need years of training just for a slim possibility of success. Why are you really bothering with me?" You fidget with your frayed shoelace, waiting for an answer, while turning your back to all three Aokis in the room.
Ema looks at you with an unreadable expression. "Get up. You need more practice. Aokis are strong, and you will quickly become more powerful and an asset when he arrives." Her words are sharp and decisive, leaving no room for argument.
You remain unmoving, unwilling to stand. It's only when Riko grips your left arm that you finally react. You scream and try to pull away, but her grasp on your arm—on the wound—is unyielding. Blood begins to seep through the bandages. "Help me," you call out, expecting Katashi to intervene. He promised you and your mother that you wouldn't get hurt. The pain is nearly as agonizing as the night you received the wound; it feels unbearable. Your eyes are clenched shut, and your body is turned away from the cruel woman. Suddenly, an odd popping sound fills the training room, and Riko drops your arm. After regaining control, you cradle it against your chest, tucking your legs closer—anything to shield yourself from Aokis.
A horrified shriek pierces the air, drawing your attention to the source of the scream: Riko. Ema turns to you with a sneer. "____, what have you done?"
A large gash runs from Riko's left shoulder to the middle of her chest, pouring blood. "W-what?" Before you can fully comprehend the situation, a small green ball tucks itself into your arms—a hobgoblin. Blood drips from its long claws, your aunt's blood. Fearing for your own safety, you push the demon away. It whines like a neglected dog. Riko pulls a gun from her hip, aiming at the creature despite you standing directly behind it. Can that hurt me too? What if she misses and shoots me instead? The hobgoblin growls at the threat.
Katashi quickly intervenes, wrapping his hand firmly around Riko's wrist, forcing her to drop the gun. "Riko, stop. You need a medic immediately before that wound becomes septic." He gives her a rough shove toward the door. "Mom, you should follow her in case she faints from blood loss."
Blood drips from the wound down her body, like a horror movie. It looks much worse than the wound you had received. The whole front of her body is covered in blood. Ema tosses you another nasty look before leading her daughter out of the training room.
The hobgoblin looks at you expectedly; despite it having just protected you from your aunt, you can't help but be weary of it.
"You should see a medic as well; your arm is bleeding," Katashi says, his gaze fixed on the bloody bandage. "I'm surprised it managed to protect you. Hobgoblins typically aren't strong enough to inflict harm; they're just a nuisance." He lets out a sigh. "Go ahead and destroy the summoning circle." Gently, he takes hold of your arm. "If your wound isn't too serious, I'll take care of it."
As he unwraps the bandages, he continues to talk. "I'm sorry you have to deal with our horrible family. It was smart of you to summon that hobgoblin; I'm surprised you kept some of the summoning circles. You were terrified when it appeared." He praises your quick defensive actions. While pulling out some bandages and two items, you assume at least one of them is an antiseptic. He opens the bottle, and a strong smell confirms its contents: hydrogen peroxide. "Go ahead and destroy the summoning circle," he reminds you again as he pours the liquid over your arm. White bubbles cover the open wound, and you watch them disappear, only to reappear as he pours again more.
I didn't use a summoning circle. "No, it's okay. I'd rather it be with me." You lie through your teeth, uncomfortable sharing this new information with him. There must be another way to summon them without the markings. He gives you a disapproving look but understands he has no leverage to argue with you about it. He assumes that after the attack from Riko, you feel safer with the small demon protecting you.
"I'll walk you back to the dorm."
Ambrosius sits on a bench outside the girls' dorm as you arrive with Katashi. He closes the manga he's been reading when he sees you approach. Katashi is quick to speak first. "What are you doing outside the girls' dorm like this?"
"Waiting for ____."
"So, you're a creep? It's late; you have no business with her at this time of night."
"You're late; let's go ____." Ambrosius disregards Katashi completely. Though as he speaks to you, his gaze is fixed on the hobgoblin walking beside you. You're anticipating his comment, yet he remains silent. Am I late? Was I supposed to finish at a particular time? A quick glance at your watch shows it's almost ten. Am I going to be this late every night?
Katashi's face turns red with anger. "Go where? The only place she is going is her dorm room."
"Yes, that's also my destination."
You bite your tongue to keep from laughing; it's too comical. How is Ambrosius so funny when he's not even trying? You sigh, feeling lighter and thankful for your friend.
"No. No. I will call campus security. You're not supposed to be in the girls' dorm at all, especially this late at night." Katashi stands sternly, ready for the teen's argument.
The little hobgoblin growls, startling both you and Katashi. Its sharp teeth are bared at the exorcist. "You should be growling at him," Katashi retorts, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. "He’s the one trying to sneak into her room in the middle of the night." He scoffs, adding, "If you want to act like a protective pet, you need to protect her from him."
As he scolded the hobgoblin for being a poor familiar, you let out a sigh and headed toward the dorm, allowing Ambrosius to follow. After just one day of training, you’ve had enough of this hellish family. The little hobgoblin snarled at Katashi once more before trailing behind you, and today, Ambrosius was your only savior. Even your uncle, who supposedly wanted to protect you from them, hadn't intervened. Does that mean he doesn’t see it as serious enough to step in? Is he comparing your training to that of a trained exorcist and overestimating how much you can endure? It's a terrifying thought. Just how much will he let them put you through before he finally steps in?
Once you enter the dorm, you let your bag fall on the bed, causing books and loose papers to scatter everywhere. You're expected to manage both your training and schoolwork, but it feels overwhelming. How can you possibly tackle hours of assignments when you feel this way? All you want to do is collapse onto the bed and sleep for the next few days.
Ambrosius shuffles through your snacks behind you, but you ignore him, too exhausted from the day’s torture. Carefully moving your left arm aside, you sift through the books. There's so much homework due tomorrow; I hate this. "I'd rather die than deal with it all," you think, your inner thoughts spilling out. "I couldn't even handle this training. It's supposed to get so much worse from here. If it hadn't been for him, I'd still be stuck in hell right now." The hobgoblin nuzzles into your hand as you speak. "I don't want to do this. I can't do this. I'd rather Amaimon kill me now than face her tomorrow." Your grandmother is the root of all this; she’s the one who demanded that you train, the one who plucked you from your home—cruel and selfish. As these thoughts race through your mind, you start to pack your school bag again. Even if you weren’t exhausted, you still can't focus on homework; too many thoughts are swirling in your head.
"I am not going to kill you," Ambrosius speaks bluntly.
After zipping the bag, you toss it onto the chair beside your bed and turn to Ambrosius to question him about his strange comment. Your eyes widen.
His green hair is now brighter, and the strands that always seem to form a cowlick have become more pronounced, almost resembling a horn. The most striking change is his attire: he wears a long, burgundy tattered jacket rolled up to his elbows, paired with green arm warmers that cover what the jacket doesn’t. Underneath, he has a beige vest layered over a black and burgundy striped shirt, completed with a golden striped tie. It's a lot to take in. His bottoms are equally unusual, sharing the same color scheme as his jacket, accented with golden polka dots. Similar to the jacket, his pants stop just below his knees, revealing green bottoms. Everything about his appearance is peculiar, yet it somehow comes together harmoniously.
As you focus so intently on Ambrosius' new appearance, you fail to notice him gradually stepping closer until he invades your personal space. Suddenly, your attention shifts away from his looks. "What are you doing?" He steps forward, causing you to retreat a step. Before long, the back of your legs collide with the mattress, preventing any further movement. You expect him to halt as well, perhaps to corner you for some reason and engage in conversation. He has always been odd; you'll get answers and-
He doesn't stop, though. You're forced to crawl backward against the bed, only to be blocked again by the wall. Without breaking eye contact, he follows your movements, his expression the one you're so used to, emotionless as he crawls over you until he's just a few centimeters from your face. What is wrong with him?
"I keep telling you." He speaks. "I'm not going to kill you; now you want me to kill you?"
It's so easy to say I hate this; I wish I were dead. It was easy to think that your awful family was pushing you toward despair. They promised that things would only get worse from here. This overwhelming sense of hopelessness made you think and even say that you wanted to die. Yet, as you lay there with this person on top of you, the will to live began to weigh heavily on your heart.
"Do you want me to kill you ____?" He casually asks like you were talking about something simple. Not about death, about your death.
"No." The truth slips out easily. I don't want to die; I just want to escape those horrible people.
"Who are you?" The truth is clear; he's made it clear to you himself. But it's hard, all this time, from day one, before you learned about your insane family. He's been there. He's been a friend, right?
"Amaimon, Demon King of Earth." He confirms what you struggled to admit.
The hobgoblin that had been forgotten during this interaction makes itself known, squeezing into the tiny space between you and the king. It's just large enough to force Amaimon to distance himself from you. For a fleeting moment, the demon king's expression shifts to annoyance before it quickly returns to an impassive demeanor. "Get off her. She's mine."
Chapter 8: Chapter 8
Summary:
Updated December 18
Chapter Text
The small demon crashes against the opposite wall, letting out a whine as it slides to the floor. Amaimon’s eyes never leave your face; he stares, hiding behind that familiar blank expression. It was kind of cute when you knew him as Ambrosius, but as a demon king, in this moment, it’s terrifying. Finally, he pulls back, though he doesn’t fully remove himself. You gasp in disbelief as he sits on your waist, holding you between his legs.
“Do you want me to kill her?” He tilts his head, waiting for your answer while gently running his black claws along your right arm. It’s oddly affectionate.
An uneasy feeling washes over you at his words. You’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact that your friend is a demon king. You attempt to gently pull yourself out from under him for a moment, but when he doesn’t budge, you stay still, forcing yourself to take deep, calming breaths. However, with your heart pounding almost painfully fast, this proves to be a challenging task. As you struggle to distract yourself from the awkward position, you force your mind to wander elsewhere.
Who was he casually speaking of killing? You avoid eye contact while mulling over the question. Kill who? A low whine catches your attention. The hobgoblin? Is he asking if I want him to kill the hobgoblin? Is the hobgoblin a girl? You had been thinking of it as a boy. It whines again, almost as if it understands your thoughts. “The hobgoblin?” you ask, struggling to grasp why he would inquire if you want him to kill.
Amaimon’s eyes follow your gaze as the small hobgoblin inches closer to the bed, cautiously testing how far he can go before Amaimon intervenes. Amaimon gently places a warm hand on your cheek, slowly turning your head to force you into eye contact. “You want me to kill him?”
The question leaves you shaking your head in panic. “No, please don’t hurt him! He’s my familiar; I summoned him during the test to determine if I was a tamer. He also protected me from my aunt, who kept insisting I stand and fight. But everything hurt, and she grabbed my arm when I didn’t obey.” You gesture toward the fresh bandages. “I called for help, but Katashi didn’t come. With no one else helping, he appeared and defended me.” You quickly summarize what Amaimon missed while you were training with your family. “Please, don’t hurt him,” you plead. The little hobgoblin continues to test limits as it now sits at the foot of your bed.
The comment about your arm draws Amaimon’s attention to it; the bandages are clearly new, now a pristine white, although a line of reddish-brown seeps through in one spot. He lifts a nail just below your elbow, where the bandages begin. With a swift, smooth motion, he slices from top to bottom. The bandages fall open, showing the injury that once again has been opened. “Your aunt did this?” His face and tone give you no indicators of how he feels about the newly opened injury. Crusted, dried blood has started to cover the wound, with only a small amount of the gash still open. He gives you an unimpressed look. “We made a contract that I won’t harm you. That doesn’t mean you let others harm you instead.”
You stare, taken aback by his words. Contract? A horrible sickness washes over you as he continues keeping you pinned to the bed while poking around the injury. Did I make a contract with him? What is involved with creating a contract with a demon? Fear is quickly mixed in with nausea; you swallow hard, pushing down a sob or bile, too consumed by fear to notice which.
Amaimon sighs at your reaction. Have you already forgotten? You know he is Ambrosius. Have you forgotten the contract with him? “Why are you acting like this?”
His blank stare only adds to your fear. It’s terrifying. “Contract?” You whimper.
“Yes, we entered into a contract. You agreed that your life and soul are in my hands. I told you that I want you alive; the contract just confirms that I won’t harm you. I cannot break a contract.” As he speaks, he gestures between the two of you. “And neither can you.”
You take deep breathes to calm yourself, he’s not showing any malice. Just calm down; it’ll be okay. He hasn’t shown any interest in harming me. I’ll be okay. The previous conversation crosses your mind; what exactly had you said? Not only had you unknowingly made a contract with a demon king, but you were also the one who proposed it. You never imagined joking with a friend about your life would put you in this situation.
“What happens if it’s broken?” You hope the punishment is light. Maybe you would have to pay him a certain amount? What kind of payments would a demon take that wouldn’t cause you harm?
“Either you die, or I die. Depends on who breaks it.” He shrugs.
Die? “No, no. I didn’t agree to anything, right? Like the only agreement is you do not kill me. So-“
“Your life is in my hands. If you tried to take that away, you’d die.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” You struggle to argue back. This has to be something that can easily be reversed, especially with how easily the contract was made. Is the contract even liable since you weren’t aware you were making it with a demon?
“If you were to run away, try to escape me, anything that could take you from me. Use your imagination.” He grins down at you.
You take a shaky breath; there has to be more. His explanation doesn’t make sense. Does this mean you can’t be too far away from him, or it’s considered that you’re taking your life from him? It’s all too confusing, but the grin he’s giving you confirms he won’t be offering any further explanations. He’s a demon, and there are plenty of stories about demons and other creatures in fairy tales that omit crucial details in their contracts. All stories contain some kernel of truth. “Then please warn me if I might do something that could break the contract. I don’t want to die.”
A soft whine draws your attention to the end of the bed, where the hobgoblin remains seated, seemingly waiting for permission to come closer. You feel a tug at your heartstrings, much like you do when you upset a pet. What should you do? After all, it was Amaimon who knocked him away. Will he be angry if you call the creature to you? Before you have a chance to question him, Amaimon takes charge, snapping his fingers as the hobgoblin disappears.
“W-what did you do? Where did he go?” You stare at the spot where the little hobgoblin just stood, concern for him now mingling with the other emotions you’re struggling to contain.
“He’s fine. You can summon him again later. You’re trembling.” Amaimon takes hold of your right wrist, lifting it between the two of you. Without the bed to support your hand, your shaking becomes all the more noticeable. He observes for a moment before releasing your wrist. “Why are you trembling?” he asks.
“I’m scared,” you admit.
He tilts his head to the side. “Why?”
“You’re a demon.” You glance at your phone, carelessly tossed on the desk. Even if he weren’t sitting on your waist, there would be no way to reach it and call for help. He claims he won’t kill you, so what does he want? “Why are you revealing your true self now?” Something must have happened, right? Should you be more fearful of why he is showing his true self now?
“You are mine.”
“But why now?”
Amaimon bites his thumbnail as he replays the conversation with Mephisto over and over in his mind. Her falling in love with Rin will cement my plans. Big Brother is scheming to bring Rin and his human together. But what are his plans? Why does Big Brother need Amaimon’s human? “Stay away from Rin Okumura," he warns. He has never been very good at sharing, and it annoys him to think that his human could be taken away for something as trivial as love. As long as she stays away from Okumura, that irritating emotion won’t interfere with their contract.
His answer is confusing, and you give him a look of uncertainty, fearing how to respond. Is Rin the reason for his strange behavior? How are you supposed to avoid Rin when you’re meant to have exorcist training classes together in the future? He’s even offered to make you lunch every day. How could you possibly explain to him that you can’t be near him? It feels unrealistic. Yet, you can’t say no to a demon king. You muster a feeble reply: “I’ll try.”
His response doesn’t seem to satisfy him, but the clear irritation on his face fades away. He stares blankly once again; this time, you feel a bit more at ease with the look than you did the first time he gave you this look in this appearance. You’re reminded of him as Ambrosius. "Could you please get off me? I hope we can talk in a more comfortable position.” He raises an eyebrow but then slides off, sitting cross-legged beside you.
“Bake me brownies.”
You stare. “What?”
“You agreed to bake me brownies this morning.”
You sit up slowly, being careful not to bump your arm. I need to rewrap it. His earlier words linger in your mind as you gaze at your arm. This is probably something you shouldn’t mention, but you feel they should be warned, right? “Who were you talking about when you asked me if I wanted you to kill her?”
He has made a few candies now. Placing a lollipop in his mouth, he rests his elbow on his knee, supporting his head with his fist. “Your grandmother,” he says, eyeing your arm, “and your aunt." Big brother warned me not to hurt your grandmother, but I really don’t like her.” He blinks thoughtfully. “I’m sure he’ll allow it if you want me to kill them.”
He speaks about it so casually, as if it’s a conversation you might have with friends about someone you hate. Except, with friends, it’s all talk—angry rants—but you’d never actually consider harming anyone. Yet, he’s different; he’s serious. If you asked him, he would kill them.
“No.”
A couple of volumes of manga rest in his hands. “But it’s not normal for humans, is it? Human families don’t hurt each other like that." He names various fictional families as he questions you. He’s still learning about humans in this world and this century. He knows enough to understand that your family shouldn't harm you to the extent that your aunt has. You’re his human. He doesn’t want anyone touching you. His eyes trail over the bruising on your cheek. Especially when it leaves marks, he should kill them just for leaving marks on his human.
You shake your head, struggling to find a reply. He’s not wrong; they shouldn’t be treating you like this. Still. “I don’t want their deaths hanging over me.” It was your fault for bringing it up; you shouldn’t have mentioned it. “Amaimon, it’s getting late. Could you please leave?” “No.”
“What?”
“I’m staying here.”
Staying? You suppress the instinct to yell, "You can’t stay here." Fortunately, the more sensible part of your mind intervenes. Not wanting to test him, you release a shaky sigh. After all, you need his help before he leaves. Gently, you lift your arm to catch his attention. “Could you please help me wrap this? I don’t think I can manage it with just one hand.”
He pauses for a moment before nodding in acknowledgment. You don’t need to point him toward the first aid kit; you’re surprised he pulls out some disinfectant to clean the wound first. It's even more astonishing how meticulously he tends to it for you, gently removing the dried blood with a cotton swab before pouring the disinfectant over the area. He works quickly, having it cleaned and wrapped up faster than you expected.
You tap your foot nervously, trying to think of something to say while packing the first aid kit. Although the situation feels awkward, his assistance with your arm has made you feel more at ease with him. “Amaimon, what did you mean when you said you’re staying here? It’s getting late, and I need to prepare for bed. I have school tomorrow.” You subtly suggest that he should leave; you also require some time to process everything that's happening. Why does he want you to stay away from Rin? Why is he even bothering with you? What about you piques his interest? It’s a lot to absorb in such a short amount of time.
He ignores the hint. “You said you’d bake brownies.”
Is that why he wants to keep me around? It’s the only thing he’s asked for or expressed interest in from you. Feeling anxious, you tap your fingers against your leg. You need more time to think this through; you have many questions but need time to sort them all out. “I’m sorry, I can’t. My arm really hurts. I promise I’ll bake some tomorrow.”
“Okay. Tomorrow.”
God, please let my arm be slightly better tomorrow. You silently pray, then wonder if God would even listen to you. Making a contract with a demon means I’ve forsaken God, even if it was unintentional. Right?
“Could you please leave now? I need to sleep.”
“I told you; I’m staying here.” He almost sounds bored.
“Like spend the night? You can’t do that.”. Why would he even want to stay over? It doesn’t make sense.
“Why?”
You gesture to your single bed, but when he raises an eyebrow, you realize that's not a sufficient excuse. "Well, it’s just not normal for humans to let others see them in their pajamas—" You trail off as his gaze drifts to your uniform skirt, which certainly reveals more than the pajama pants casually tossed beside it. “Look, it's just not proper."
“Neither is making a contract with a demon king.”
He’s teasing you.
Being completely thrown off by him joking with you, you mumble the first thing that comes to mind, “Could you please step outside so I can change?” You breathe a sigh of relief as he agrees, stepping out of the room to give you some privacy. Worried he might enter the room if he thinks you’re taking too long, you quickly start to remove your training clothes, but pause when you see how dirty you are, covered in dirt and small scratches from today's training. Tugging your shirt back down, you open the door. His appearance surprises you as he wears black pajamas and pants with an anime girl t-shirt. You hadn’t considered that he might also be in pajamas. It takes a moment for the shock to register settle.
“Um, I need to take a shower first.” You motion to your dirty clothes. Oh, my sheets are gross now, too. Looking over your shoulder, they don’t look too gross, but you’re still not comfortable with it. Changing the sheets with this arm will be a nightmare, and you aren’t comfortable asking a demon king to help change them.
“What’s wrong?”
“I was just thinking I’ll need to change the sheets when I get back-“
A snap of his fingers cut you off; the sheets, once marked with small spots from your dirty clothes, are now a pristine white. “How did you do that?” you ask, staring in amazement. Had he completely changed the sheets? Or had he cleaned them? As you struggle to find the right words, he climbs onto the bed on the side by the wall, the side where you like to sleep. You quickly notice that he’s left enough room for you, meaning he intends for the two of you to share the bed.
“Do you want me to change you too?” He questions when you don’t leave the room, propping himself up on one arm.
Shaking your head, you quickly leave for the showers at the end of the hall, concerned about what might happen if you take too long. You end up taking probably the quickest shower you’ve ever had.
When you return to your room, you stare uneasily at the bed. If Ambrosius had been a real person, a real friend, would you have minded sharing it? Probably not. But this isn’t the friend you knew; this is a demon. Can I trust him? Does it even matter? Do you have any options? If he expects something of you, would saying no even make a difference? He doesn’t look like he’s planning anything regarding sleeping over. Nothing in his expression gives away what he might be thinking.
Amaimon doesn't react as you climb into bed next to him. It’s uncomfortable to lie beside someone when you’re accustomed to having the entire bed to yourself, especially when you're on the opposite side that you’re used to. It feels even more disconcerting knowing the person beside you is a demon. While numerous questions and scenarios swirl in your mind, exhaustion slowly begins to take over.
You awaken an hour later, feeling too restless to have truly fallen into a deep sleep. Remembering your guest, you glance over your shoulder. Amaimon’s breathing is calm. Is he asleep? After waiting maybe half an hour without any signs, you quietly slip out from underneath the covers.
I just need to grab my phone so I can send Mom and Katashi a text.
Amaimon watches as you stand up from bed, your back turned to him. He watches as you reach for the phone and then as your hand hovers over it hesitantly.
Do you really want to text Katashi? You don’t know enough details about the contract, but Amaimon hasn’t harmed you. Since the beginning, he’s just hung around you. But that’s the contract, isn’t it? Why did he make the contract? It doesn’t make any sense. He doesn’t get anything from it. My life isn’t worth making a contract over. Did he do it so I’d feel safe around him after finding out who he really is? But what would he care whether or not I feel safe? Are you being dumb? Will this be a horrible regret? Slowly, you sit back down on the bed, leaving the phone. The only ones who have harmed you are your family.
“Amaimon.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t want to become an exorcist.”
“Yes, you’ve told me.”
You turn to face him. “How am I supposed to escape it? My mom-"
He shows no emotion, continuing to lie as he answers. “Just bake for me. Don’t worry about anything else.”
“What? That’s not-“
He tugs you down. “Go to sleep. The only thing you need to worry about is baking something tomorrow.” He turns his back to you, letting you know he won’t listen to anything else.
How did learning he’s a demon go from terrifying to something so ridiculous? Bake for him? Are all demon kings this fucking weird. Is this normal? Are demons not as dangerous and scary as the exorcist makes them seem? Is Amaimon not as dangerous as your family swears he is?
An awful blaring sound jolts you awake. The sound radar is never comfortable waking up to, but it does the job. You’re wide awake instantly. Amaimon casually sits at your desk. You’re surprised to see his human appearance. Ambrosius. “Why are you?” You motion awkwardly towards him, unsure how to word the question. Why are you human? Why are you, Ambrosius? You struggle to come up with the correct way to word it.
“School.”
Oh. Oh! I have to get ready. You quickly slide off the bed, dashing around the small room to grab your uniform. Amaimon stands up and leaves the room without needing to be asked, and you appreciate his respectfulness while you change into your outfit. Textbooks are scattered across your desk. Oh no, I didn’t do my homework. However, as long as you’re in that hellish after-school training, you’re not going to have time to finish it all each night. I might have to start doing it during lunch. Not completing homework could easily lead to failure, especially since it’s your last year of high school. You can handle sacrificing your lunch break doing homework.
Just one and a half more semesters. It won’t be that bad.
Amaimon waits outside the girls’ dorm when you step out. It’s a bit surprising at first, but it would have likely been odder if he weren’t there, considering he was with you until about twenty minutes ago. A small group of first-years giggles nearby, having noticed Amaimon waiting for you.
“Uh, should we get some breakfast?” You still have plenty of time, and after yesterday's situation, you don’t want to risk skipping breakfast and ending up with nothing.
You realize with a jolt that you didn’t get to eat yesterday. Hunger overtakes the memory of last night when fear had overshadowed your appetite. You probably wouldn’t have been able to eat anything anyway, given how upset you were. But now, recalling that you hadn’t eaten all day, hunger hits you hard. “I’m going to get breakfast.”
The rest of the day passes uneventfully; Amaimon somehow managed to bring lunch, keeping you away from Rin Okumura. Fortunately, you were able to catch one of Yukio’s admirers and asked her to pass a message to Rin for you. She was more than happy to have an excuse to get closer to Yukio.
After school, however, you find yourself torn. You’re supposed to meet Katashi at the cram school. He sent a long text, apologizing and asking if you were okay, while trying to explain why he hadn’t stepped in. I thought you were doing okay, he had claimed. He mentioned that you wouldn’t be training with your grandmother and aunt today; instead, today’s training will be with the other students at the cram school.
When you didn’t reply, that text was followed by multiple more.
I’m sorry.
Do you need anything?
Are you okay?
Your friend Rin is here. He wants to introduce you to his other friends. The girl, Sheimi, seems really nice. I think you two will get along great and probably be best friends.
____?
You stand a reasonable distance from the cram school, where Katashi, Rin, Yukio, and a group of other teens wait by the door, presumably for you. A cute blonde girl grins excitedly as she looks around, clearly searching for you and eager to meet. Meanwhile, Amaimon is heading in the opposite direction from the cram school. If you follow him now, you will forsake everything—turning your back on your family, on Mom and Dad, and on Katashi, Rin, Yukio, and the other teens who could have become your new classmates and friends. It feels final; there’s no turning back from this decision. Choosing to follow Amaimon would be an unforgivable sin. Yet you're presented with only two options, and it’s time to make your choice.
I don’t want to be an exorcist.
Chapter 9: Chapter 9
Summary:
I just want to mention MC is getting zero time to actually sit down and wrap her head around everything. If she seems a little too okay with some of the stuff, it's because everything is hitting her one after another with no break. Remember, it's only been a week.
Also I'm trying to use the metric system with them being in Japan. There is something about 200 degrees in this chapter; it's referring to 200 degrees Celsius.
Chapter Text
The forest seems endless as you trail behind the demon king. Although this path offers a shortcut to the dorm, you would prefer to have taken the longer route. A creeping fear settles in the back of your mind as the sun begins to set, casting long shadows through the trees. The forest thickens around you, making it difficult to navigate the gnarled roots that threaten to trip you as you squeeze through the narrow gaps between trees and bushes. Amaimon glides effortlessly ahead, and the distance between you grows, twisting your stomach with anxiety. Doubt intertwines with your fear. He assured you that he won't harm you. But would he allow another to do so? Might he command another demon to bring you harm? You push through another tight space, continuing on your unsettling journey.
"Big Brother says you're important." Amaimon pauses in a small clearing, a cramped space that barely accommodates two people. You maintain a safe distance among the trees, reluctant to stand too close. "I want to know why you're important." He steps forward, gripping your right wrist and pulling you into the clearing. You lean back against a tree, creating a little more space between you. "He was frustrated that you didn't accept the temptaint and asked for my help." Amaimon's gaze drifts to your bandaged arm. "If you were stronger, Behemoth wouldn't have injured you so easily; it should have only been a scratch."
Your heart drops as he speaks, "Wait, you did this to my arm?"
"Technically, it was Behemoth, my familiar." A hobgoblin is summoned, and you can't help but widen your eyes at its vibrant colors and the harness it wears. Although Amaimon had already confessed that his hobgoblin was the one who attacked you, it's still terrifying to see it in person.
You're quick to notice that Amaimon has the creature on a taut chain. "A-Amaimon," you stammer, pressing yourself against the tree, anxious that your sudden movement might provoke the demon.
"He won't hurt you." His bored eyes stare into your own. "He didn't mean to hurt you that night," Amaimon admits while undoing the chain holding the hobgoblin.
The hobgoblin seems to miss the message as it lunges once the chain hits the ground, yet Amaimon's expression remains unchanged. A wave of fear washes over you, an overwhelming sensation unlike anything you've ever experienced; your stomach drops, and it feels as if your heart has stopped. You are too terrified to make a sound. Suddenly, a puff of smoke materializes between you and the hobgoblin, halting it in its tracks as you attempt to escape. However, the small step you take to your left lands on a patch of wet leaves, causing your right foot to slip backward, and you find yourself falling forward. Just before you hit the ground, as you raise your left arm to brace for the impact, something large slips in between you and the ground.
"He likes you." Amaimon comments while watching Behemoth nudge the smaller hobgoblin out of the way to catch you midfall.
The terror lingers even as Amaimon's familiar gently helps you slide off it and onto the ground. Sensing your fear, your familiar nuzzles into the space between you and the larger being, settling in your lap like a happy dog or cat. The affection from your hobgoblin gradually grounds you, making you feel more at ease and better able to comprehend the situation.
It helped me. It doesn't want to hurt me. This thought becomes a comforting mantra.
A sharp pain shoots across your ankle as your familiar brushes against it. "Why me?" you groan, biting your lower lip in a futile attempt to ignore the discomfort. How is this my life? Behemoth whines, seemingly wanting attention much like your familiar.
Amaimon squats down to your level, his gaze fixed on your ankle. Suddenly, he pokes your ankle, prompting a reflexive reaction to protect yourself. You instinctively kick at Amaimon's head. Yet, without a hint of change in his expression, he swiftly catches your left ankle. "Humans are fragile."
"S-sorry, I didn't mean to."
"It doesn't matter; you couldn't harm me even if you wanted to; you're too weak." He prods your twisted ankle again, as if to prove his point.
You tug at your left leg, expecting to be freed from his grip. Instead, he tightens it. "If Big Brother is aware of your weakness, then he knew that Behemoth would harm you. So why would he have me do this?"
"Do you have an idea about why?" You question, occasionally glancing at Behemoth. He's relaxed and hasn't shown any ill will since being summoned; being Amaimon's familiar, it's obviously strong. If it wanted to harm me, I would be dead. I couldn't survive an actual attack from it. It even helped me from damaging my arm worse than it already is. You attempt to calm yourself and let go of the fear.
Amaimon releases your ankle, sitting cross-legged and propping his head against his fist. "So, you fear me? Stay close to your family for protection. When you walked away from the temptaint, Big Brother saw an opportunity to plant the seed of fear for me within you."
He watches as confusion washes over your expression. "Why does he want me to fear you?"
You wrack your brain, trying to make sense of it. What does he gain from this? "I don't even know your brother," you frown. This man has been trying to pull you into whatever game he's got going on, and you don't even know him.
"Mephisto, though you know him as Johann Faust," he states, pulling a lollipop from his jacket. Amaimon observes the emotions flickering across your face: confusion, annoyance, realization, irritation, and a hint of fear.
Amaimon was angry after speaking to him yesterday. Is he the reason Amaimon revealed himself to me? "Is he the reason you were so frustrated yesterday?" You decide to ask bluntly instead of tiptoeing around to find answers.
"I told you, you're my human. Big Brother wants to give you to Rin." Despite his blank expression, a hint of annoyance lingers in his voice. "Big Brother believes you're a crucial part of the future, but he didn't elaborate on how."
Looking at him now, his face may remain blank, but the annoyance that resonates in his tone is clearly reflected in his eyes. Amaimon was angry when he pulled you out of his brother's house yesterday, and you can't help but wonder if his brother would have explained the situation if he hadn't left so abruptly. "It doesn't matter, right? Even if that was his original plan, I mistakenly made a contract with you so." You shrug, unsure where you were meant to go with that little speech.
You're curious, though, about what he meant by giving you to Rin, but you're a bit nervous to ask, considering they're demons, and it's possible the answer will be horrific. But Rin wouldn't hurt me, right? Even if Mephisto tried to give me to him. God, why didn't I just ignore the acceptance letter and stay home? If you were openly against it when you received the letter, your dad would've taken your side and put his foot down to stop it.
Amaimon observes you with keen interest as various emotions flicker through your eyes. You're terrible at concealing them—anger, fear, frustration; it’s clear to him that these feelings are directed at his older brother. "I wonder what emotions I can extract from you," he muses. Your gaze snaps to his, widening as he leans in closer. "Confusion," he remarks, brushing his lips against yours softly. It's not quite a kiss.
What?
"Still confused?" He leans in again, this time pressing his warm lips more firmly against yours. Yet, he pulls away quickly, leaving your mind struggling to catch up with what just happened.
"Uncertainty?" He slips his right hand behind your neck, drawing you into another warm kiss. A rush of heat floods your face as this kiss grows more passionate; his warm tongue glides along your lower lip. He pulls back before you can respond. "Frustration?" he kisses you again, his lips warm and soft, and he doesn't pull away.
Your heart races as he slips his tongue into your mouth, overwhelming your senses with his taste and scent. The sweetness of the lollipop melds with the invigorating aroma of pine that surrounds him. He pulls away, gazing down at you, observing the emotions swirling in your eyes. A smug look crosses his face as he realizes he has found what he was looking for. As he stares into your eyes, it becomes clear: it doesn't matter what Big Brother is planning; you'll never stray.
As he backs away, you stare, struggling to comprehend what just happened and why. He wears that infuriating blank expression, his eyes betraying nothing of his feelings. Meanwhile, your face flushes with embarrassment. A vibration from your phone pulls your attention away from the demon king. Of course, it's Katashi.
"Hey! ____, are you okay?" His tone is filled with concern as he asks you. "Did you get caught up with schoolwork or something? Rin and a few of his friends are waiting for you, too." He tries to sound excited, eager for you to meet all these new friends, but his concern is too overwhelming. "Where are you?"
Where am I? You glance around the forest; what are you supposed to say? You know, wherever you say you are, someone is going to appear. "I'm with Ambrosius." Amaimon stands, towering above you, while you awkwardly stare up at him.
"Okay, where are you and Ambrosius?" Annoyance seeps into his tone. "____, everyone is waiting for you — new friends, better friends." He doesn't bother hiding his disdain for Ambrosius.
"I'm fine with only having one."
"One? I thought Rin was your friend."
"Maybe, but I refuse to return to that cram school. I don't want to go back to you or the other two either. I dislike you, and I can honestly say that I hate your mother and sister." With Amaimon not offering any help with your struggle to stand, you fidget, attempting to find a position that allows you to stand without causing too much pain.
"Y-you don't like me?"
"Yeah." It's awkward to admit, but you're still frustrated with him for not protecting you from the abuse, instead calling it training. You swallow the guilt of being so blunt as you attempt to stand.
In the midst of your struggle, Amaimon slips his arms beneath you, lifting you effortlessly. "Let's go; you owe me brownies."
"____, can we talk about this?" The panic in Katashi's voice only deepens your guilt. "I'm sorry about what happened with Riko. Please, you have to stay with me. ____, you'll be an easy target for Amaimon if you're alone." He genuinely believes you're in danger and wants to protect you.
"I have plans tonight."
"You're prioritizing someone you just met this week over your own well-being." In the first week, you were supposed to relax, get acclimated to school, and become comfortable with the concept of exorcists and demons. They had assured you that you had a whole week to adjust; Katashi had mentioned that his mother and sister wouldn’t arrive until the following week. You were given no time to adapt, yet they expected you to just accept it? Were they really anticipating you to feel excited or something? You still can't make sense of their reasoning; these questions linger in your mind.
Amaimon pinches your leg, pulling your attention back to him and the fact he's holding you. Oh crap, he's probably uncomfortable. "That's dramatic, I have to go." Without waiting for an answer, you end the call.
"Um, Amaimon, I still haven't eaten today." You mumble awkwardly when your stomach turns uncomfortably.
Where are you?
A notification pops up on your lock screen while you mix the brownie batter. Anxiously, you tap your fingers against the bowl; Katashi has contacted your mom. You knew he was going to be contacting her, just not this soon. You had hoped for a few days to think of something to say—some kind of excuse. Deep down, you know you won't be able to hide that you've chosen Amaimon over them forever, but you're deliberately ignoring that thought. You push aside the anxious questions: 'What happens when they find out? Will Amaimon attack them? Is he really as dangerous as they say?' It's hard to perceive him as dangerous when he's lounging on your bed, alternating between reading manga and enjoying the yakisoba you both picked up for dinner on your way back to your room.
I’m in my room.
You fidget while waiting for her response; the notification of her typing keeps starting and stopping. You continue stirring the batter, occasionally glancing at the phone to see the same notifications of her typing. Is she writing an essay?
You wait a full twenty minutes before receiving a response. Meanwhile, the brownies are baking away, just halfway done in the oven.
Why?
You frown. It's not the response you've been expecting; it took her twenty minutes to come up with that response? That's concerning.
The training yesterday was too much. I need a break.
That's a good response, right? Especially after her short reply. Even though you told her you don't wish to become an exorcist, bringing it up again right now might not be wise. Perhaps you can avoid the topic for a few more days before they begin pressuring you about the cram school again. Your arm injury is still quite severe, having been exacerbated by your terrible aunt during training, and to make matters worse, you're also coping with a twisted ankle. Oh wait, I didn't tell Mom last night.
The training yesterday caused the wound on my arm to open up again; it'll never close if I continue training like last night. It's painful, and I don't want to risk making it worse.
You wait for the worried messages asking if you're okay, what happened during training that caused your wound to open up, and whether you need to see a doctor. But those messages of concern never arrive.
Wrap it and go to training.
It feels like a stab to the gut; does she not care that you're in pain? Does she think you're exaggerating how severe it is? You sit at your desk, staring at the message. What is wrong with her?
You don't reply; instead, you grab your laptop and start watching a new show, occasionally glancing at Amaimon. He hasn't mentioned what happened in the forest, and you're finding it hard to figure out how to bring it up. Twenty minutes later, Amaimon's phone rings.
"Hello Big Brother.”
As Amaimon answers his phone, you open the oven to check on the brownies. They should be done now. You shuffle in a drawer, looking for a toothpick to help test.
“____?” Your head jerks towards the king. "Oh, my human?" Heat rushes to your face at his comment; you realize you’re overthinking it. "I haven't seen her since class ended." He lies smoothly.
"Why should I care if her family is looking for her? Do you want me to search for her too? She's probably just in her dorm room." He rises, brushing past you to grab the brownie pan. He lifts it with ease, even after taking it out of the oven moments ago. The pan must be at least 200 degrees! You wince at the thought of holding it in your palm. "You told me not to go into her dorm room anymore. Does this mean I can now?"
He holds the phone to his ear with his shoulder, freeing his left hand to retrieve something from his pocket. "Okay." Grabbing the key of eternity, he slips it into the door, which swings open to reveal a room you’ve never seen before. He tucks the phone away. "Let's go." As you step into the expansive room, a strong scent of pine mingled with petrichor envelops your senses: a massive bed adorned with white sheets and a large TV mounted on the wall opposite. You quietly follow Amaimon into the bright space. Large double doors close behind you. "My room," he replies to your unspoken question.
Your eyes widen as you take in the sight of the soft bed you can tell it’s soft without even having to touch it. "Hey, Amaimon, why did you stay in my room last night when you have a room like this? The bed is massive and looks really comfortable, plus you've got this big TV."
Also, the smell is almost addicting. Why would anyone want to sleep in a bland dorm room when they have a bedroom like this?
While you question him, he steps towards a desk in the corner of the room to place the brownies. A spatula appears in his hands. Does he create it himself or is he making it appear from somewhere else ? What else can he do?
"Yes, my bed is more comfortable." He admits. "We can sleep here tonight." He shrugs his jacket off, tossing it over an armchair against the wall.
"We? You expect me to spend the night here?" His lips on yours flash through your mind.
Amaimon nods. "Yes." He skillfully tugs at his tie, effortlessly pulling it off. "I want to know why you're so important to Big Brother, and I need to think of a way to keep you away from Rin Okumura." He mumbles to himself, now unbuttoning his vest. "Also, if you go back to your dorm now, your family will be there," he states matter-of-factly, his bored gaze fixed on you as you stand awkwardly in the center of the room. "Big Brother said so. Sit down," he gestures towards the bed.
You limp toward the bed and awkwardly sit on the edge. "Wait, if they go to my dorm, they'll discover I'm not there. Then they'll want to know where I am. Also, I told you I'd stay away from Rin." You struggle to comprehend Amaimon's line of thought. Does he plan to keep you by his side every minute of the day? How does having a sleepover with him prevent you from seeing Rin? Is he expecting you to sneak out in the middle of the night to meet up with Rin? It's weird.
He gives you a blank stare. "Tell them you're with me."
"Okay, but how am I going to explain the sleepover? Why are we having the sleepovers?"
Amaimon starts to bite his thumbnail as you question him. If his big brother wants _____ to be in a relationship with Rin, there's no telling what he'll do to get his way. He knows now ____ won't stray, but, "You don't tell them."
"Okay, why are we having sleepovers?" You cringe. After repeating the word "sleepover" so many times, it begins to sound strange.
He stares at you with a bored expression. "I don't trust Big Brother not to take you."
"What? I-"
Your ringtone interrupts you; your mother is calling.
"Yes?"
"Where are you?"
You frown at the phone. "I'm with Ambrosius."
"I said where. You told me you were in your dorm, but you're not there." So they really did go to your dorm.
"I'm studying with Ambrosius. After training yesterday, I realized I don't want to be an exorcist. I'm not going to cram school anymore, and I'd rather stay away from your family." You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for what's to come.
"I see."
You wait for her to continue, anticipating the anger or disappointment. When neither comes, a wave of confusion washes over you. Has your mom finally opened her eyes and accepted that you don't want to be an exorcist? Will she actually let you go home? Wait, can I go home with the contract I have with Amaimon? Do you want to go home?
"Mom?"
"Can we have a video chat? We need to talk."
"I'll call you." You glance beside you; Amaimon is leaning against his headboard, and he would be visible in the frame from your current position. Quickly, you adjust yourself to ensure that she won't see much of the background, opting for just a plain white wall instead.
You shoot a look at Amaimon, silently hoping he'll stay out of sight. He meets your gaze but offers no sign of whether he'll choose to reveal himself.
Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you send the video request. She answers swiftly, her concerned green eyes piercing through the screen.
"____, we need to speak privately. Could you step away from Ambrosius?" As she questions you, her gaze is fixed on your background, trying to ascertain your location.
"I stepped out to speak with you," you lie.
"Listen. I understand that the training can be a bit challenging, and perhaps they started a couple of levels higher than they should've."
A couple? You look at your mother, bewildered, as if she's completely lost her mind. "Mom, I'm nowhere near the level they expected me to be. It was much more than just a couple of levels. Your sister wasn't even training me; she just kept attacking, as if she was waiting for me to face some life-or-death moment and suddenly unleash an insane amount of strength. That's not how real life works. If the hobgoblin hadn't shown up to protect me, I’d probably be in a hospital right now—possibly even worse.”
Your mom tosses an exasperated look. "You're being dramatic, you're fine."
"I am fine because of the hobgoblin. Which I got insulted for not only summoning a hobgoblin but also when it protected me." You share more information, wondering if Katashi had even told her the complete story.
"You need to understand that hobgoblins are kin to Amaimon. It’s upsetting for our family that you have one as your familiar. But their opinions don’t matter; what’s important is that it can protect you." She pauses for a moment, contemplating. "We don't come from tamers; I don't think there has ever been one in our family. I hope it can keep you safe from Amaimon, but because it’s related to him and considering our lack of knowledge about tamers, I worry it might turn against you if he commands it." Frustrated, she taps her fingers against the countertop. "I haven't trained or even touched a sword in over twenty years. ____ , I can't protect you from Amaimon. But I know Katashi can. That’s why I sent you there." Her emerald eyes pierce into yours as she speaks. "Please, train and gain enough strength to defend yourself in case you ever come across Amaimon."
You glance up from your phone. Amaimon is holding a handheld device, but he's staring blankly at you. Despite his expression, you can almost detect amusement in his eyes. You wonder if he wants to say something. If you were in his shoes, you'd probably want to laugh and appear in the video.
"So, do you really believe he's here now?" Until now, she had thought her family was being paranoid. What has changed to make her believe he is actually present?
Hesitantly, she nods. "I spoke with an old coworker, and yes, I'm convinced he's here. However, since he hasn't attacked yet, there's a chance he's weak and needs to regain his strength first. Our family wants to be proactive in case that's true. I don't expect you to go into battle, but if this theory holds, you should at least be prepared to defend yourself against him in his current state after some training."
Amaimon's expression remains unchanged. You expected him to look annoyed, angry, or even amused. But with his neutral demeanor, it’s difficult to gauge how he feels about what your mother has just said.
"Mom, I really don't want to train. I’ve told you time and again. I don't want to be an exorcist, and I'm done with cram school. I’d rather take my chances against Amaimon than go through training to be an exorcist."
She shakes her head. "I'll ensure you join the regular classes with others at your level. There will be a few private sessions with Katashi, but that’s it—no more with my mother and sister."
"No."
"It'll be much more comfortable. I've heard there are some great kids in that course around your age. You could make friends; you haven't made any yet, right?"
"Ambrosius is my friend."
“____.”
"You're the one who taught me that 'no' is a complete sentence." You end the call.
"Hmmm, they think I'm weak," Amaimon comments as you toss the phone beside you on the bed. "Do you think I'm weak?" he asks, watching you intently.
You struggle to maintain eye contact as his golden eyes burn into yours. You feel as if you could melt under his gaze. "Amaimon, they fear you for a reason. It's more a matter of hopeful thinking, perhaps even denial on their part," you reply, realizing how accurate that sounds. "They said my ancestor nearly exorcised you hundreds of years ago. They claim to have been training hard ever since, but I doubt you haven't grown stronger in the last few centuries.
He crawls toward you, cradling your face. "That's right. You don't know," he says, his voice laced with humor.
"Know what?"
He leans in, his lips brushing against yours. "I wasn't even in Assiah when your ancestor supposedly fought me. I told Big Brother about it; I was in Gehenna."
You pull back, staring in disbelief. "What? My life was uprooted; I was forced into the world of exorcists and demons, and mistakenly gave my soul to a demon—all because of a lie?"
"Yes," he replies, grabbing your collar and pulling you into another kiss.
Notes:
The kisses might be confusing for some, but Amaimon is playing a game, he's curious about MC and why Mephisto wants her. He wants to tick all the boxes and make sure MC not only is bond to him by contract but also make it so she doesn't want to leave his side. He wants to win this game he's playing with Mephisto.
Also I know her mom's reactions are kind of odd sometimes, but she's dealing with generational trauma and being trained from childhood, it's a bit hard to wrap her head around just how horrible it is. But like I've said before, MC's mom and her family aren't going to be the main focus of this story.
Thank you for the comments and kudos, it means a lot. I hope you're enjoying this story. I love you guys.
Chapter Text
Amaimon pulls away and snaps his fingers, changing both you and himself into matching pajamas. The outfits feature a simple forest green, button-up short-sleeve top paired with long pants. The only thing missing is the embroidery of your names on the left pocket, just below your heart. You stare, not knowing how to react to the sudden wardrobe change. Ignoring your discomfort, Amaimon moves towards the top of the bed and pulls out his handheld game.
"Why do you keep kissing me?" you ask, sitting cross-legged. It feels like a sensible question, yet as he lifts his gaze from the handheld device to meet your eyes, you suddenly feel foolish for asking. There's a sense of familiarity, as if you should already know the answer, but you struggle to grasp it. What is wrong with me? Something isn't right.
He lowers the handheld device, maintaining the same stoic expression. “Would you rather have Rin kiss you?”
His question catches you off guard. “I don’t really know Rin.”
Amaimon frowns at your response. It becomes clear you've left the answer too ambiguous, which makes him assume there's a possibility you might consider it.
“No, I don’t want Rin to kiss me.” Does he feel threatened by Rin? His question has only left you with more questions.
He tilts his head slightly. “Do you want someone else to kiss you?” He stares intently, waiting for your reply. “What do you mean by someone else?”
“Someone other than me.”
Your focus rests solely on Amaimon, his piercing golden eyes locked onto yours as you struggle to think of anyone else. The image of your first high school crush flashes through your mind, but he appears dull and uninteresting, akin to a passing stranger. You attempt to conjure a celebrity you've always found attractive, yet even his captivating green eyes seem to lose their allure in your thoughts. "I can't think of anyone," you admit with a sigh. The demon before you is peculiar, yet you cannot deny the pull you feel toward him. Is it the contract's influence?
You swallow hard and break eye contact. "Amaimon, can I please return to my room?” I need time to settle my thoughts. I'm too calm about this. I feel more upset about the situation with my mom than about Amaimon tricking me into that contract. I just need some privacy and time to think.
“Do you want me to stop kissing you?”
“Amaimon—what’s that?” Your thoughts scatter as something slips past Amaimon. It’s long and dark green, adorned with a small tuft of hair that mirrors the color of his hair at the top.
His gaze follows yours to the appendage on his right. “My tail?”
“You have a tail.”
Amaimon observes with curiosity as his human stares, clearly having forgotten their previous conversation. She is easily distracted by something as simple as his tail. Amusement begins to swell in his chest as he lightly thumps his tail against the bed.
You suppress the urge to ask if you can touch it.
I can’t believe he has a tail. Do all humanoid demons have tails? This is the first time you've seen it, and he probably keeps it hidden for a reason.
“Do you want me to kiss you?” he asks, his tail enticing you. Absently, you nod, not really registering his words. You feel a strong urge to touch it. When he lifts a finger beckoning you closer, your eyes remain fixed on his tail. He sits up to meet you, his hand gripping the back of your head as he pulls you into another kiss. His nails gently scratch your scalp while he tilts your head, deepening the kiss. Just as you turn your head, you feel something wrap around your left wrist—his tail. You're taken aback by his control over it; distracted by the tail, you hardly notice his lips moving to your throat. Suddenly, a sharp pain between your throat and right shoulder jolts you back to the reality that Amaimon’s lips are pressing against your throat. You attempt to pull away, but his grip on the back of your head tightens as he runs his tongue over the wound, savoring the taste of your blood.
“Why did you bite me?” you snap, leaning back as he finally releases you.
“You really are fragile; it didn’t take any effort to break through your skin.” He ignores your question, poking at the wound on your neck.
“Amaimon, you have fangs,” you exclaim, trying to pull away. His grip on your wrist stops you from escaping too far.
He ignores your comment and keeps his focus on observing the wound. “It’s still bleeding.” He presses his hot tongue against it once again, lapping up the blood. “Stop. I need to put pressure on it and treat it.” Is there any point in getting angry and arguing with him? He doesn’t seem to realize it’s a problem. You pull as far as he allows. “Please get me something to treat it.” You mumble, pressing the heel of your palm into the wound.
Amaimon remains silent. Instead, he slips off the bed and heads toward the door. The open doors reveal your dorm room, and he steps inside, leaving the unusual key in the lock. Moments later, he returns to the bed with your first aid kit in hand. “Amaimon, why don’t you let me stay in my room and just leave the door open between us?"
You offer a solution to give yourself at least some privacy. His bedroom door slams shut, making you flinch. “I said no. I don’t like repeating myself.” He presses a cotton ball with alcohol against your neck, knowing it’s more painful than the other options.
“It needs Neosporin—the yellow tube. It’ll prevent infection and help avoid scarring.” You hope the wound isn’t too deep, and that you can avoid getting scarred.
Amaimon stares blankly. “Why do you think I bit you?"
You fidget under his stare, unsure how to answer. He didn’t just get carried away? I don’t know enough about this kind of thing, especially with demons. What have I gotten myself into?
“I marked you. I want others to see it.”
This isn’t good. You eye the bandages. He doesn’t let you out of his sight. Maybe while getting dressed tomorrow, I can cover it. Tomorrow is Saturday, but you’re likely to encounter Katashi or face judgment from the town elders. “This isn’t appropriate for humans, especially for humans my age.”
“I don’t care.”
His words aren’t shocking or upsetting. Instead, the only thing you feel is exhaustion. Why am I not more upset about this? I should be angry. I should be angry he bit me; I should be angry he won’t give me privacy. You feel like banging your head against the wall. It has to be because of the contract. Maybe it’s a good thing, though; if you’re attached to him for the rest of your life, at least you’ll be comfortable, right? I’m still gonna find something to cover it, though.
“Amaimon, I’m so tired,” you admit, settling into a more comfortable position while carefully avoiding hitting your arm or ankle. He doesn’t argue to keep you awake; instead, he snaps his fingers, turning off the lights. Ignoring his presence, you close your eyes.
“_____, wake up.” You groan, feeling someone shaking you roughly from behind. "Let's go, I'm hungry," your assailant complains as they continue to jostle you.
You elbow the demon behind you, wincing slightly from the pressure on your left arm. "Amaimon, stop. I'm awake," you reply. Your first instinct is to reach for your phone on the bedside table. When you grab for it and feel nothing but air, you sit up, momentarily confused. "What time is it? Do you know where I left my phone?"
“Six thirty."
“It’s Saturday."
“I know."
“We don’t have school."
“I know."
You sigh. “Amaimon, most people take the opportunity to sleep in a bit more when there’s no school or work.”
“If you don’t get up now, I’ll change your clothes myself,” he threatens while hovering over you. You scoff, “Go ahead, Amaimon. You changed me last night without asking.” He gently runs his sharp nails along the base of your neck, but you ignore it, thinking he’s being odd by observing the bite mark. It’s the sensation of your top pajama button being unfastened that startles you awake. “What are you doing?” You push his hands away, clutching your top closer to your chest.
He holds up a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. “I was changing you. You told me to go ahead.”
"No, no, I can change myself," you reply as you leap from the bed and grab your clothes. Glancing at your ankle, you realize you can now stand. It's still sore, but walking is no longer an issue. "Please take me to my bedroom."
He sighs and nods in agreement, using the key to unlock your bedroom. “Amaimon, I’ll meet you downstairs, okay? Just give me about forty minutes. I need to take a shower.” You hope he’ll agree. You need a moment to yourself. You worry this might be the only time you get today for yourself. You hold back a relieved sigh when he nods. “Wear this.” He tosses the clothes to you before pushing you through the door.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” You frown, tossing the clothes on the bed. “I let him kiss me.” You touch the wound on your neck. “This is supposed to be a sign of ownership. He wants others to see it. He wants Katashi to see it.” What if Katashi tells mom? Oh god, what if Mom tells Dad? You shake your head; I need to shower before he gets impatient.
As you dry off in the shower, your gaze falls upon a first aid kit perched on a corner shelf. Without hesitation, you reach for some antibiotic ointment, ready to treat your wound and prevent any scarring. Deciding to take care of it before returning to the bedroom, you scan the kit and spot a flesh-colored Band-Aid that perfectly matches your skin tone. Carefully, you place it over the bite mark, knowing that Amaimon won’t be pleased. Still, you’re determined not to step out with that mark visible for all to see.
"This isn't healthy," you mutter, eyeing the large plate of waffles before you, topped with strawberries and cream. It's clearly a dessert, so why do some people eat it for breakfast? You glance at Amaimon, who is currently disguised as Ambrosius. Amaimon ignores your disapproval, thoroughly enjoying his own dessert for breakfast. Looking at the display, you notice a breakfast sandwich; Amaimon hadn't bothered to ask what you wanted—he simply told you to sit down while he ordered. Not wanting to appear rude by refusing the food he purchased, you sigh and pick up your knife and fork. It might not be traditional breakfast fare, but it’s delicious. “I hope you have plans today after waking me up this early."
“No, what do you want to do?” He pauses, looking at you keenly. “Big Brother mentioned that I should visit Tokyo to learn more about Japan. We could go there.” He stares, awaiting your response. “Ambrosius.” You call him by a name that suits his appearance. “Do you have any idea how far Tokyo is? It’s something we need to plan for, not just decide on the day of. How are we supposed to get there?” You cut into the waffle, waiting for him to respond. He probably hasn’t given it much thought.
Amaimon lifts the key he had used to get into his bedroom from your room. “We can go to Tokyo with this.”
“That can take us to Tokyo?”
“The Key of Eternity allows for limitless travel." Your eyes light up at the thought. Could you explore the world with it? Visit Europe and see all the sights—those dreams are dashed when Amaimon continues, “Big Brother said we must stay in Japan."
You pick up your latte, attempting to mask your disappointment. But it's still good, right? Especially since he's willing to take you traveling around Japan. Although Japan may be small, there's an abundance to see. "Ambrosius, I haven't had the chance to explore the town near the school yet. I should probably check it out before visiting other cities.” You decide to use your free time wisely this weekend. Plus, in a bustling city, you can never predict how often your arm will get bumped into. That’s the last thing you want to deal with at the moment.
"I want to walk around town. Let me see if there are any interesting shops we can visit," you say, pulling your phone from the small bag you brought with you. "Oh, there's a grocery store; I should stop there before heading back to the dorm," you mumble, mostly to yourself. "My baking supplies are getting low with the demon king devouring so many baked goods." Amaimon gives you a glance before resuming his waffle-eating.
You watch as Amaimon explores the manga shop, scanning each shelf for something to read. An employee offers Amaimon a basket, but he ignores the gesture. "Thank you," you say to the employee with a smile, taking the basket before following Amaimon to the back of the store. "Ambrosius, put the books in this basket," you instruct him, noting how he comically cradles around twenty volumes of different manga in his arms. "___, what is your favorite manga?" Amaimon surprises you with this question; however, when you respond, he frowns. "I've read that one," he remarks. "Tell me something else to read." You're taken aback—didn't he just arrive in our world? How fast can he read? "Uh, I’m not sure. Are you keeping up with the new stuff? Maybe Jujutsu Kaisen? Gege is a sadist," you sigh. From across the small shop, you hear the employee groan in frustration. You turn toward the employee. “You know, I’m starting to think Sukuna is actually the main character."
The employee nods enthusiastically. “Yes, just imagine it ending with the story simply being Sukuna’s memories or something like that.” His eyes sparkle as he chuckles at the idea. Yet, almost instantly, the light in his expression fades, leaving only a broad grin. You watch in confusion, wondering what just happened.
You’re startled when Amaimon wraps an arm around your waist from behind, pulling you close to his chest. Glancing over your left shoulder, you give him a puzzled look. “Ambrosius, what are you doing?" He responds with a brief kiss before stepping back to focus on the manga shelves once more.
The employee's face flushed bright red as he observed the scene, quickly understanding the odd green teen's message for him to back off. He didn't speak again until checkout, asking, "Did you find everything?" and saying, "Thank you, please come again," as you both left.
“So, are you going to make randomly kissing me a regular occurrence?” you frown at Amaimon as he walks beside you, engrossed in one of the new manga titles he purchased. “You enjoy it just as much as I do.” He pulls the lollipop from his mouth.
“Miss Aoki!”
The awkward conversation is interrupted when a girl around your age calls your name. Her green eyes shine brightly as she gives you a hopeful grin. "You're Miss Aoki, right? My name is Shiemi Moriyama. I was hoping to meet you yesterday." She’s the friend Rin mentioned. Taking note of her bright kimono, you can't help but think how cute she is. "Oh, sorry. I don’t want to be an exorcist, so I won’t be attending those classes."
A wave of guilt washes over you as you see her spirit deflate a little. "Oh, could we still be friends? I don't have any girlfriends, so..." she mumbles, fidgeting with her fingers. She wants to be friends? A warm feeling begins to spread in your chest. You realize you could really use some friends, and she looks so sweet. "You want to be friends?"
“Yes!” she replies with a nod.
The two of you stand facing each other, awkward smiles on your faces, uncertain about what to do next. To break the silence, you take the initiative and say, "Um, do you have any plans for lunch? If you're busy today, maybe we could meet up tomorrow instead." Amaimon observes the two teenagers with an unimpressed expression, but just as he turns to leave, something Sheimi says causes him to pause.
"I'm free for lunch, and tomorrow I'll be with Rin and Yukio. You’re welcome to join us! I'm sure they’d be happy to see you since they were really worried yesterday." Lost in her eyes, you reply without giving her words much thought. "That sounds fun."
A loud crunch interrupts the moment. “Spending time with Rin sounds fun?”
Oh fuck.
Notes:
Thanks for reading. I appreciate all of you. Thank you for the comments and kudos; they really help with motivation.
I gotta say something funny: my Grammarly stopped working, and I use it to help edit everything. I went to a website and put in a paragraph, thinking it would do the same thing Grammarly does with editing the story, right? Instead of giving edit suggestions for the paragraph I wrote, it continued the story from the paragraph I inserted, and it turned into smut (poorly written smut) lmao.
I was so confused, thankfully Grammarly is working on my computer again.
Chapter 11: Chapter 11
Summary:
Edited December 18
Notes:
Edit: I used grammarly to double check everything. I just noticed it changed a ‘you’ to ‘me’ if you notice a switch like that feel free to let me know. I usually catch it but I guess I missed it this time. I know some people it can throw them off and if that happens to you, I’ll be happy to correct it. Though there are times MC will be spoken of in third person. I think it’s pretty clear why but if you have questions let me know
Thank you for reading <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
You toss Amaimon an awkward glance, struggling to think of a way to make it clear you didn’t mean it like that. Why is he so sensitive when it comes to Rin? He grabs your wrist tightly.
Shiemi completely misses the tension as she glances at Amaimon, her eyes sparkling with a great idea. "Of course, you're invited too! My name is Shiemi Moriyama," she exclaims, extending her hand for a greeting. However, Amaimon ignores her, his gaze still fixed intently on you. "This is my friend, Ambrosius," you say, realizing he won’t introduce himself. Even with his blank stare, Shiemi beams at him, her kindness shining through. It’s heartwarming how she can remain so welcoming despite being ignored; it speaks volumes about her character. "It's nice to meet you,” she says cheerfully.
Amaimon, however, continues to disregard her, his focus unwavering on you. “____,” he warns, tightening his grip on your wrist, clearly dismissing Shiemi's feelings. You find yourself at a loss for words, having anticipated that Amaimon would relent and join you. “Oh, Shiemi.” You give the blonde a sheepish look. “I forgot, I have plans tomorrow. But I’d love to have lunch with you today.”
She appears disappointed to learn that you won't be joining her and the Okumura brothers tomorrow. "It's okay, maybe we can all get together another time. What would you like for lunch?" She once again tries to engage Amaimon in the conversation. His grip loosens, yet he doesn’t let go as his eyes follow a couple strolling at the end of the street. His gaze fixates on their intertwined hands. Without a second thought, he slips his hand down to intertwine his fingers with yours. “I want Robatayaki.” He tugs you toward a small restaurant.
As you enter the restaurant, a young waitress warmly greets your small group and quickly leads you to a table. She serves three cups of green tea and hands you an order sheet, saying, "Please let me know when you’re ready." After a quick bow, she steps away. Amaimon takes the order sheet and checks off several items with a small pencil, without asking you or Shiemi for your preferences. “I hope you’re adding vegetables too," you comment, glancing over his shoulder at the numerous checkmarks next to different meats. He doesn’t respond, so you turn your attention back to Shiemi.
"Did you say that you've never had a girlfriend?" You ask curiously. I hope this isn't too personal to ask right away. Should we have this conversation in private? You begin to regret asking her. You often feel awkward around others, accidentally sharing too much or asking inappropriate questions. Fortunately, Shiemi doesn't seem to mind. "Yeah, I don't see many people my age often. Well, I do have new friends from cram school now. But before that, my only friend was Yukio," she confesses. "So, I would really love to have a girlfriend—someone to go out with for a girls' day, have sleepovers, maybe even have spa days together." She talks about the typical aspects of a girlfriend relationship. "That sounds fun. I've had friends, but I haven't had any close ones in a few years," you respond. "When I was younger, I went to a lot of sleepovers. It's really fun. But I've never experienced a spa day." You smile at the thought.
Amaimon drops the pencil, turning to you with a straight face. “You’re not going to her house for a sleepover, and I don’t want her to sleep with us.”
Your face flushes as an image of the floor opening beneath you dropping into the infinity castle crosses your mind. If only. Across from you, Shiemi reflects your embarrassment. “No,” you squeak, dramatically shaking your head while waving your hands in front of you. “It’s not like that. Last night, I twisted my ankle and couldn’t walk, but I still needed to treat my arm.” You lift your arm. “So, Ambrosius helped me, and we ended up talking late into the night. I just didn’t want to leave at that hour so-”
“But boys aren’t allowed in the girls’ dorm, right?” she asks, her expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. The kind waitress returns to your table, oblivious to the awkward conversation she has just interrupted. Amaimon lifts the paper for her to take.
“Right.”
“She stayed in my room last night.”
You refuse to glance at the demon king beside you, directing your gaze solely on Shimei. With a shaky voice, you provide a weak explanation, "We're just friends. We were hanging out, I promise it wasn't like that. Just doing friend things." You could cry in this moment; the last thing you need is Katashi discovering you've shared a bed with Amaimon, even if nothing happened. "Please don't tell my uncle,” you plead, hoping she will keep your secret. A strange determination crosses the blonde’s fiery face. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone."
Listening to the humans' conversation, Amaimon decides to entertain himself. "Is kissing something friends do?" he inquires. "At what point does it stop being friendly? If kissing is something friends do, then I really don't want you spending the night with her. The only one you should kiss is me," he states in his childish monotone. You’re wedged between Amaimon and the wall. Why did you choose to sit in the middle of the booth? He lifts his hand, fingers gliding over the covered bite.
Shimei reaches across the table, taking your hands in hers. "I promise I won't tell anyone," she assures you, her honesty almost palpable. If there weren't a hot grill between you, you'd likely lean over the table to pull her into a warm embrace. The waitress returns shortly with an assortment of plates filled with meat and vegetables. “The vegetables go on this side, and the meat goes here.” You can’t be sure if he knows he shouldn’t mix the two since the grill isn’t divided.
After a brief silence, Shiemi breaks it by asking, "So, is he your boyfriend?”
You let out an awkward laugh. "No, it wasn’t, um, I mean…" You glance at Amaimon on your right, who says nothing and keeps his focus on the meat. “Just last night, was—" Why can’t the biwa demon from Demon Slayer be real and just drop me into the castle.
Noticing your discomfort, Shiemi smoothly shifts the conversation to food. "Wow, this looks fantastic," she remarks, observing Amaimon flip a piece of meat. "Ambrosius, which one is your favorite?" she inquires, doing her best to lighten the mood.
Despite Shiemi's kind and bubbly nature, the meal feels somewhat awkward. She shares stories about her garden and invites you to visit. She recounts her encounters with Rin and explains her decision to become an exorcist. Although she's open with you, you can't help but feel guilty for not being able to share as much. You think she might keep the kiss and the time spent in Amaimon’s room a secret, but you doubt she'll be able to conceal the truth that Ambrosius is actually Amaimon and that you've made a contract with him.
Once the three of you finish, Amaimon calls over the waitress and hands her a handful of cash to cover the entire meal. Shiemi shakes her head dramatically. “I can pay for myself!” she insists, rummaging through the small bag she’s been carrying. “How much was it?” As she questions him, she pulls out a few bills. Ignoring Shiemi, Amaimon turns to you and says, “Let’s go.” He quickly slides out of the booth and strides towards the front door. "Wait for us," you call out as you and Shiemi hurriedly scramble out of the booth to follow him.
You walk a few steps behind Amaimon, accompanied by Shiemi. "Is that an arcade?" you ask, bringing Shiemi to a halt beside you. "Do you like arcades?" Shiemi shyly glances at the ground. "I’ve never been to one, but it looks like so much fun. How about you? Do you like arcades?" You quickly nod. “Yes, I used to go with my dad all the time. He’s really skilled with claw machines.” A grin spreads across your face as you hook your arm with Shiemi’s. “I’m not quite as good as he is, but there are plenty of other fun games. I really enjoy air hockey.” The arcade is a decent size, with bright, flashing lights enticing you to step inside.
"First, we need to get some tokens," you said, guiding Shiemi to the token machine. As you scanned the options for tokens and payment methods, something caught your eye: a new customer special in the corner. Excited, you pulled out your phone to scan the QR code. "We'll get 250 tokens, plus an extra 250 for free!" you exclaimed. It's an incredible deal for five hundred tokens. "Could you grab one of those small baskets and set it here?" you asked your new friend.
"Actually, grab two. I doubt one will be enough to hold all five hundred." In the middle of the transaction, Amaimon slipped behind you, leaning in close to whisper something only you could hear. “What are you doing?” His hands gripped just above your hips; what began as a gentle touch soon tightened uncomfortably. “Making a friend,” you hissed in response to the pain. “Amaimon,” you whispered his name. “You like video games, right?” The demon king responded with an annoyed grunt. Meanwhile, Shiemi cleared her throat, standing awkwardly at a respectable distance, clearly unsure about what she might be interrupting. “Oh good, you got it. Go ahead and place them here.” You stepped back slightly from Amaimon as you speak. “Since this is your first time, you can choose first."
A bright green light flashes beside Shiemi, proclaiming her victory. "Are you sure you've never played air hockey?" you ask, glancing at the scoreboard. Shiemi defeated you by over twenty points. "Maybe you're just bad at it," Amaimon quips with a straight face. "I feel like I should call my dad and call him out for going easy on me," you pout, recalling how effortlessly you always managed to beat him. "I'm sorry!" Shiemi interrupts your mental image of scolding your father over the phone. "What? No, it’s really impressive. Never apologize for being good at something."
The three of you end up spending much longer than you had planned in the arcade. Noticing it being an hour before sundown, Shiemi quickly bids you and Amaimon goodbye, holding a handful of plushies she has won. “Are you sure you don’t want any help with those?” you ask, willing to carry some of them to her home. “No, no. It’s okay. I had a lot of fun today, _____, Ambrosius. Maybe we can do it again soon,” she says, giving you a radiant grin before turning to head home.
Amaimon unwraps a lollipop and leads you down a lesser-known path. As you venture further, it becomes clear that no one has walked this way in quite some time. The path is thick with debris, and weeds are pushing through the brick surface. "____," Amaimon suddenly halts, and you're taken aback to see that his appearance has transformed. "Should you really be wandering around like this?" A tense feeling washes over you as you scan the deserted path, anxious that an exorcist might leap from the bushes to confront Amaimon. "It's not even dark yet," you comment, glancing at the setting sun. "What if Katashi shows up? He always seems to appear when he's not wanted."
He disregards your concerns, saying, “You don’t listen.” For a brief moment, his gaze fixates on your throat. He bites down on the candy in his mouth, spitting the stick to the side as he steps closer. “What are you talking about?”
“I warned you to stay away from Rin Okumura. A few hours ago, you were making plans to see him.”
“Wait, no, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I hadn’t paid attention to the fact she had mentioned Rin,” you explain awkwardly. The thought of making friends excited you, it hadn’t occurred to you right away that you’d actually be spending time with Rin.
He grasps your jaw, bringing his face close to yours. He turns your head to the left and inspects your throat. "I told you I want others to see it." With his free hand, he removes the band-aid. You flinch as he takes it off. Slowly, he leans down, his lips hovering over the mark. "Should I add more?" he asks, before placing his warm lips over it. Painfully slow his lips move up your neck, nipping each centimeter he moves. “___, do I have to add more?” Wrapping his right arm around your waist, he pulls you against his warm body. "If you choose someone else over me again, I will kill them," he said, his casual tone and expression a stark reminder of his true nature. As he spoke, he allows you to step back, giving you the opportunity to observe him. “Amaimon, I wasn’t choosing her over you. You like video games too. I wouldn’t have suggested something that you wouldn’t have been interested in.” It would be inconsiderate to suggest something the whole group wouldn’t be okay with. “You didn’t choose me over her. I don’t like sharing.”
A vibration in your pocket catches your attention. You know Amaimon won’t be pleased, but as you glance at the screen, you realize you have no choice but to take the call. “It’s my dad.”
“Hello?”
“Sweetheart! How are you?” your father greets warmly. You can easily picture his bright grin as he speaks.
“Oh, I’m good. How about you?”
“Oh, are you?” There’s a hint of something unusual in his tone.
“Yes, why wouldn’t I be? I’m currently with my friend, Ambrosius,” you reply, feeling puzzled. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine!” he comments with a laugh. “Of course, I’m fine. I miss you, but other than that, everything is going on as usual for me.” He sighs. “Anyway, since you’re fine and I’m fine, which is great, why don’t you tell me who Katashi is?”
“Huh?”
"Katashi, have you met him?" he asks casually. "It sounds like maybe you’ve met.”
“Dad, I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” you lie, feeling a mix of confusion and worry over the potential consequences if your father discovers the truth. “But I’m with Ambrosius right now. Maybe you should ask Mom?” After all, she’s been hiding the truth from him for twenty years; surely she can handle it herself.
“Yeah, I guess. So, spending the day with Ambrosius? Have you made any other friends? Mom was complaining about him the other day.” He shifts the conversation, “It’s kind of strange, but I think it’s great that you’ve made a good friend. What have you two done?”
You glance at Amaimon, who is beginning to show signs of irritation. In response, you quickly summarize the day to your father. "So, you’ve made a new friend? That's wonderful! You should tell your mother as soon as possible," he chuckles. “I mentioned to her that it’s only been a week. You’ve always been a bit shy about making new friends, so I’m more than happy you managed to form a close friendship in just a week. I can’t understand why she finds it so unusual. After all, I’m not great at making friends either; you’d think she’d have realized by now that you take after me socially.” He playfully teases you, and it’s hard to argue when you consider that you can’t recall a single friend your father has. Beyond you and your mother, he shows little interest in others. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for passing down the antisocial gene, I guess," you reply. He laughs heartily at your comment. “Aww,” he coos. “You’re welcome, sweetie. Naturally, I gave you the best of my traits."
As your father teases you, Amaimon shifts his focus back to your throat, gently trailing a nail over the mark he left the night before. He licks his lower lip, a smirk playing on his face. “I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re my human.” Though he speaks mostly to himself, your father’s laughter suddenly halts, indicating he’s caught the comment.
“Ambrosius, honestly, you have the worst taste in manga to read aloud right now,” you chide, hoping your words come across as convincing to him.
“Ahahaha! I think I know what he’s reading! Are you on speaker? I want to ask him.” You nod, even though he can’t see you. “Sure.”
He speaks excitedly when you confirm it’s on speaker. “I can't remember the name, but it’s the one about the demon who foolishly takes an interest in a human he’ll never be worthy of.” He laughs. “I love the ending! But if it’s your first time reading it, I won’t give any spoilers."
“Dad…” You stare at the phone in alarm. Does he know? How would he know?
“Yeah?”
You don’t know what to say, you can’t just say. Dad, do you know Ambrosius is a demon? There is a vast amount of manga available, and your dad often reads it; it wouldn’t be surprising. Amaimon speaks for you, saying, “The ending of this one favors the demon.”
"Oh, you don't have great taste in manga, huh? That’s okay! I've been reading manga for many years, and I can introduce you to some great titles. Why don't I bring my favorites when I visit in a couple of weeks? What's your favorite genre?" He gushes about manga and what he recommends for a few moments.
"I really don't want to end this conversation, but my wife will be arriving soon, and I need to start making dinner. Don’t worry, kid; I’ll put together a list that I think you’ll love." In the background, you can hear him opening various cabinets and moving around the kitchen. "I suppose it’s just because you’re young—your taste isn't quite refined yet," he sighs.
You roll your eyes at his comment. “Dad, you’re talking about manga, not wine.”
“Oh, come on. I raised you, so clearly, you have excellent taste in manga. Not everyone is fortunate enough to be brought up by someone with such refined tastes," he jokes. “Anyway, I just received a text from Mom. Apparently, I should’ve started dinner about twenty minutes ago because she’ll be home soon.” He mutters under his breath about her never giving him a heads up when she leaves the office so he can finish dinner on time. “Love you, sweetheart.”
When the call ends, you stare at your phone, mulling over the conversation you’ve just had. Why don’t I bring my favorites when I visit in a couple of weeks? He skirted by it so quickly that you had almost missed it. "Why would he be coming here?
You’re taken aback when you look into his eyes; there is a hunger you’ve never seen before. “____, you're mine."
Notes:
So, this update happened a lot faster than I had planned. I started writing and ended up with nine pages. I hope it's good. Thank you, fromtheashtree, for the support. Also everyone else and all the new kudos <3
As always feedback is always welcomed.
Hopefully this a good chapter like I think it is at the moment, I'm trying not to get into my head too much and then think it's awful and rewrite the whole. I've rewritten a handful of chapters, I'm posting this one quicker than the others. So, not giving myself the time to start rethinking everything. :/
Chapter Text
You break the intense eye contact, stuttering, "I forgot to grab the groceries." In an attempt to change the subject, you blurt out the first cake name that comes to mind: “I wanted to make Devil’s food cake.” The sudden focus from Amaimon makes you feel embarrassed. When did things shift between the two of you? It seems like, almost overnight, he has started to desire a more intimate relationship with you. Strangely, you feel the same way. Perhaps there's a book at cram school that could explain it. Shiemi might have the answers, but you hesitate to ask, not wanting to raise any red flags.
"Devil's food cake?" he asks, a look of confusion crossing his face at your sudden exclamation. As you prepare to respond, you realize you're not entirely sure what the flavor is. Although you've heard the name many times, you don’t recall ever encountering a recipe for this specific cake. Is it the one made with chocolate, cherries, and coconut? Your lips scrunch up in contemplation as you try to remember. It's definitely chocolate, but could there be other flavors included?
As you furrow your brow in concentration, Amaimon's gaze moves down to your neck, lingering on the left side. Your flawless skin entices him to mark you as his own and assert his possession over you. He wants everyone—from his demon siblings to your exorcist family and anyone who lays eyes on you—to understand that you belong solely to him and no one else.
"Chocolate!" His gaze shifts from your neck to your eyes. "It's a chocolate cake—a moist chocolate cake with dark chocolate icing. Doesn't that sound great? It would go well with some coffee, too," you mutter the last part almost to yourself. He nods in agreement. "Right, well, I still need to go grocery shopping, especially if you expect me to keep making you baked goods." You had momentarily forgotten that this was on today's agenda. Dealing with Shiemi and Amaimon's comments throughout the day had been quite a distraction.
"Shall we go?” you ask Amaimon, surprise washing over you as he tenderly kisses you, enveloping you in his embrace. His left hand finds its way into your hair, gently tugging you closer, as a wave of electricity courses through your body, kindling an intense and undeniable connection. His sharp teeth graze your bottom lip, sending a thrill down your spine. With a shy gesture, you place your hands on his hips and part your lips, giving him what he desires. As he explores your mouth, a new sensation twists in your gut—a hunger you’ve never experienced. His grip on you loosens as he pulls away.
In a childish tone, he declares, "I want cake. How long will it take?" As he speaks, his lips still glisten from the kiss you shared just moments ago. It's hard to believe he can seamlessly transition from such an intimate moment to a casual conversation. "____," he prompts, looking at you expectantly. Caught off guard by his sudden shift in topic, you mumble, "Huh?" He clarifies, "How long until the cake is ready?"
“Sorry, I-” you begin, but you quickly find yourself lost in his golden eyes. He gazes at you with curiosity, then asks, "You mentioned cake. Would you rather us continue where we left off?"
You shake your head to clear your thoughts as you regain your bearings. "If I don’t bake a cake, you'll be craving something sweet in the middle of the night." He casually pulls out some chips and replies, "But tonight, you're more than enough to satisfy my cravings." His appearance abruptly changes back to Ambrosius as he turns toward town. As you walk side by side, he sneaks glances at you from the corner of his eye, clearly entertained by how flustered his comment made you. In a teasing tone, he asks, "Do you want me to tell you how you'll satisfy my cravings?" Embarrassed, you turn to face him and stutter, "What?" He leans down for a quick kiss and says, "Actually, I'll let you use your imagination."
“____!” Amaimon tenses beside you as Rin calls out, his brother following closely behind. Rin waves dramatically when he notices he has your attention. “Hey! Shiemi just told me she ran into you. I’m surprised you’re still around.” Amaimon quickly wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you to his left side. “Ambrosius,” he greets Amaimon. “Hi Rin, yeah, after spending the afternoon with Shiemi, I remembered I needed to buy groceries.” Rin’s eyes brighten. “We’re buying groceries too! I can show you the best places to go.” As Rin talks, Amaimon’s grip on your hip tightens uncomfortably. You tap his hand; while it’s no longer painful, his grip remains firm. Sensing Amaimon’s unwelcoming demeanor, Yukio tries to steer Rin away from the awkward situation. “Rin, I think we’ve got everything.” Unfortunately, Rin doesn’t pick up on the hint. “What? We just got here.” He glances at the way Amaimon is holding you. “I guess you two are together now? That was quick.”
Yukio’s jaw drops . “Rin! You-“
Despite Amaimon’s stoic demeanor, he hisses, "Yes, she's mine." A wave of embarrassment washes over you as you pinch his side and whisper, "Ambrosius..." In a quick attempt to ease the tension, you add, "We're just here to pick up some baking essentials and ingredients for new recipes I found.” Rin beams at you. "There's a great sale at the shop down the street that I can show you." It's hard to tell whether Rin is unaware of the situation or intentionally provoking Amaimon. Regardless, Amaimon interjects with a blunt, "No," aimed at the son of Satan.
Feeling a bit anxious about possibly getting both of you in trouble, you wrap your arms around his waist and apologize. “Sorry, I’ve been up since six-thirty. I just need to grab a few essentials.” Glancing at your phone, you're surprised to see that it's already eight-thirty. "Ambrosius, I need to bake the cake quickly," you remind him. “I want to be in bed by ten-thirty." Amaimon keeps his arm around you as you drop yours and pinch his hip. "We really need to go, Ambrosius," you urge. "I'm sorry, Rin and Yukio, but we'll have to catch up another time." Rin understands and nods in agreement, while Yukio kindly bids farewell. "Sure, ____, we can make plans later. Get some rest," Rin adds with a nod toward you. “It was nice seeing you, ____, and Ambrosius. Take care," Yukio says with a kind smile.
You point to a small shop at the end of the street, "That store should have everything we need." Glancing at your companion, you add, "We don't need to carry too much anyway. You already have a couple of bags full of manga, and I'd rather not strain my injured arm by carrying heavy items."
As you lead Amaimon toward the shop, you silently hope that you won't run into Katashi, Riko, or Ema. After encountering half the people you know today, the last thing you want is to bump into a family member. With my luck, Katashi might just jump out from behind a bush.
Upon entering the store, an elderly lady at the counter greets you.
You return her smile, grab a basket with your good hand, and quickly head to the aisle to collect the ingredients for the cake. Amaimon disappears, likely heading toward the snack aisle. In less than ten minutes, you've gathered all the necessary items. The old shopkeeper praises your beauty as she rings up your purchase. "Your eyes are stunning; they sparkle like precious gems." Feeling flustered and unsure how to respond, you simply smile back. She adds with a grin, "I bet all the boys must be chasing after you." Confused, Amaimon looks between you and the woman. "Haha, thanks, but I think that's a bit much," you reply, a slight blush creeping onto your cheeks. The woman shakes her head, her warm smile unwavering. "No, every young woman who walks through these doors is absolutely beautiful, and I want them to know that," she says sincerely. Her gaze shifts to Amaimon. "Of course, you're quite handsome yourself." With a dramatic sigh, she turns back to you. "I just wish my granddaughter would date a nice boy like him instead of those wannabe delinquents. I know it's just a phase, but they can be so rude." The irony of her statement makes you bite your tongue. You glance at the Demon King beside you. "I understand; it's a normal phase. I'm sure she'll grow out of it soon. Thank you."
Amaimon counts a handful of money and places it on the counter before grabbing the bags. "Why did she talk so much?" he asks as you both head towards a nearby exit, where he can use the eternity key without anyone noticing. "Old people love to talk, especially women. They also tend to gossip about their grandchildren, particularly when they disapprove of their partners," you reply with a sigh. "I'm sure my grandmother is telling everyone how weak I am." Fine by me; maybe it will keep everyone from bothering me if they think I'll make a terrible exorcist. Amaimon unlocks your dorm room door and pushes it open. "Well, you are weak," he deadpans. "Thanks, love you too," you reply, rolling your eyes. Amaimon tilts his head in confusion as you gesture for him to set the groceries on your desk. "Why do humans fall in love so easily?"
Your eyes widen in horror—he completely misinterpreted your sarcasm. "No, I was joking. It's just something friends say when they tease each other. I don't actually love you," you explain awkwardly, hoping not to frighten the demon who has power over you. "Oh," he replies, setting down the grocery bags as you speak. "So, demons don't joke about love?"
"Demons rarely mention love," he replies as he opens a bag of flour.
"Why?"
"Because demons rarely fall in love," he says thoughtfully. "I've only met a few who have."
"Wait, you've never been in love? That's sad."
"Have you ever been in love?"
"No."
"That's sad," he mocks.
You bristle at his comment. "I'm only eighteen—I've hardly had time to think about love. Most people don't start searching for it until college. Yet here you are, over a thousand years old, and you've never experienced love? Give me a break." Amaimon raises an eyebrow at your response; he assumed you were both joking, so why is his human getting upset? He turns to the bag of manga he bought earlier, hoping to find answers in one of the stories. You watch as he reaches for the bag and makes his way to your bed. An awkward feeling washes over you as he plops down on your bed. What the hell was that? The realization of how foolish and odd your outburst was strikes you like a ton of bricks. "I'm sorry, Amaimon. I tend to say dumb things when I'm tired," you try to explain your stupid remarks. "I become more sensitive when I'm exhausted. Just disregard it."
An hour drags by, and finally, the cake is in the oven. You find yourself at your desk, scrolling through your phone, still flushed with embarrassment from your earlier reaction. "How much longer?" he asks, tossing aside the manga he just finished. "Just a couple more minutes until I can take it out of the oven, but it needs to cool down before I can frost it," you reply, doing your best to mask your discomfort. He picks up another manga and dives back into reading. You fidget restlessly, sensing an undercurrent of tension in the air. I made everything awkward. Exhaustion has taken its toll on your mind, leading you to say something so stupid . You beat yourself up as you pull the cake out of the oven and place it on the cooling rack a few moments later . With a heavy heart, you retreat back to your corner of shame.
"_____". Amaimon gestures for you to join him by patting the spot beside him. He snaps his fingers, and both of you are instantly dressed in forest green pajamas. “How long will it take to cool?" As he asks, you instinctively scoot as far away from him as you can. “Maybe around two hours? It's kind of warm in the bedroom," you reply.
Amaimon retrieves the infinity key from his pocket, strides toward the door, and inserts it into the lock, opening the way to his bedroom. When you hesitate to follow, he calls over his shoulder, “Let's go."
Once inside the room, his eyes lock onto yours, expectant. You fidget awkwardly in the middle of the space, unsure of what he wants. Why must he be so unreadable during moments like this? "______. The bed." Suddenly, thought crosses your mind. He probably wants me to go to sleep so I’ll stop acting dumb. It makes sense, right? "Do you really become more sensitive when you're sleep-deprived?" he asks. "Yes," you reply, easing yourself onto the center of the bed. Your comments must have really annoyed him if he’s trying to put you to bed. He stands to your right. "Isn't that perfect?" he questions, unbuttoning his pajama top while maintaining that stoic expression. As the shirt slips from his shoulders and falls to the floor, your eyes widen in surprise. "Perfect?" "Yes, let's test it,” he declares as he crawls towards you on the bed You scoot back until your back hits the headboard. He grabs your right ankle and pulls you closer to him. “Amaimon? What are we testing?” you ask, feeling a bit foolish as he climbs over you. You let out a gasp when his hand slips under your top, his claws lightly tracing just above the waistband of your pants. “Oh, my human is sensitive. What sounds will you make when I really touch you?”
Amaimon's touch sends a shiver through you, a blend of confusing and tantalizing sensations that overwhelm your senses. His playful yet intense demeanor clouds your thoughts. "Amaimon, wait, what about the cake..." you manage to whisper, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
“What about it?” He continues to explore your body, his claws gently scratching against your waist, sending shivers down your spine. The conflicting feelings inside you make it hard to resist him as he leans in closer, his face mere centimeters from yours. The heat radiating off his body only adds to the tension.
Your heart races as you lock eyes with the Demon King of Earth, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his intense gaze. You attempt one last time to come up with a flimsy excuse, but before you can utter a word, his lips are on yours. The kiss is both soft and possessive, his tongue entwining with yours.
Lost in the moment, you run your fingers through his dark green hair, surrendering to the intensity of his passion. As the kiss deepens, a soft moan slips from your lips, beyond your control. Amaimon's grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you closer, teasing and tantalizing you with his tongue. Part of you wants to resist, but the desire is overwhelming.
The sound of a video call notification jolts you back to reality. Awkwardly, you push him away. “I should probably answer that," you say, feeling sheepish. Amaimon remains silent, his expression unchanged as you use this flimsy excuse to let the video call disrupt the moment. You scramble off the bed to grab your phone, aware that Amaimon’s gaze is fixed on you as you answer the call.
“Mom, Dad.” You’re surprised to see both of them on the screen. “What’s up?” you ask, curiosity creeping in. Your dad beams at you. “Hey, beautiful! How are you?” You raise an eyebrow. “Same as I was a few hours ago when you called.” It's a slight lie, as you’re trying to ignore the shirtless demon king glaring at you from the corner. Your mother smiles warmly. “What are you doing?” she asks.
“I’m baking a cake.” You try hard to push your sinful thoughts of Amaimon from your mind as you speak to your parents. Your mom looks curious. “What kind of cake?” “Devil’s food cake. The cake is done; I just need to make the icing when the cake cools down more.” As you talk to your parents, Amaimon steps into your bedroom, still shirtless and still looking like himself. “Is everything okay ____? You seem a little tense?” Your dad raises an eyebrow as he questions you. “That boy is probably in her room again.” Your mom rolls her eyes as she speaks.
Your dad shakes his head and chuckles. "No, it's almost ten o'clock. My perfect angel would never have a boy over this late." He turns away from the screen to grab something from the background. Your mom, who clearly doesn't share your dad’s perspective, silently mouths, ‘Is he there?’ Normally, you would quickly show her he’s with you, but it seems Amaimon isn’t about to transform into Ambrosius. So, like before, you lie: "No, I promised to meet up with Ambrosius tomorrow and give him a slice, though." Nervously, you drum your fingers on your desk. As Amaimon steps closer, you decide to end the call hastily. “I think the cake has cooled enough. I can start icing it now, so I guess we can talk tomorrow.” Your mom frowns. “What? Just prop the phone up, and we can keep chatting. Unless you’re trying to hide something?”
“Yes, Mom, I’m hiding a shirtless Demon King of Earth in my room.” You roll your eyes.
Notes:
So that happened. I hadn't planned to get them that far yet. I mean, I did. But not that way. Amaimon just hooked onto Sensitivity and wanted to test it.
Also I notice a lot of people become more open sharing things they never would when not exhausted or easily agitated. It's been a long day for MC. Will it be a long night too? Who knows~
Thank you everyone for the comments, the support is great and it really helps motivate me when I'm writing. Which is how I ended up with three chapters in one week. lol
Chapter 13: Chapter 13
Summary:
Edited December 18
Notes:
I'm honestly surprised with myself I've finished a chapter so quickly again.
OMG, there is a fanart of my fic on Tumblr, bloodybeetroot. I love you 🥹 I was laughing when I wrote that scene, and seeing someone drew it. 🥹
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“What’s this about a shirtless guy in your room?” Your dad returns to the call, a raised brow indicating his curiosity. “I was just telling Mom about a shirtless demon king,” you reply, glancing towards your baking area. Amaimon has taken a keen interest in the cakes. “Whatcha looking at?” Your dad asks, noticing that your attention is elsewhere. You watch as Amaimon's tail sways gently while he inspects the cakes, his back turned to you. "Just my cakes," you say, not entirely lying. “You sure it’s not the half-naked guy in your room?” Your dad's amused tone comes through the phone. “Dad.” You groan. “I’ve heard she’s been getting really close to that boy all week,” your mother adds, chiming in. When you don’t respond with laughter or sarcasm to her comment, a concerned look crosses her face. “____, are you okay?”
"Mom," you say, forcing a casual tone. However, you quickly realize that you sound more defensive than you intended when your mother's eyes narrow with suspicion, and your father's confusion becomes clear. You try to clarify, "I was just looking at the cakes. It’s time to ice them, and I want to make sure everything gets done tonight.” It’s awkward how rapidly the tone of the conversation has shifted. Your mother gives you a concerned look. "_____. Are you okay?” She
You stare at her through the screen. Am I okay? You’re furious with her, furious about her leading you here. Not warning you about what you were walking into, furious that she’s also keeping secrets from your father. You still can’t wrap your head around the fact she doesn’t understand the training wasn’t training at all. Still- you need someone to confide in at this moment. With quick strides, you head towards your bedroom door. You shut it, then reopen it to find yourself back in the hallway of your dorm. "I need to shower," you speak, making sure both your parents and Amaimon hear you. Your mother’s concern heightens while your father looks perplexed at your sudden declaration. Amaimon remains stoic. Despite your comment, you don’t end the call. Your mother quickly picks up the hint and makes some excuse to step outside.
You sit on a bench in the changing room and take a deep breath. "Mom, I'm still really angry with you," you say, not giving her a chance to respond. "But I have no one else to talk to about this." You wish you had made better friends at your old high school so you could confide in them instead. But now, you need to share what happened today. "Ambrosius kissed me," you admit, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. Your mom's eyes widen in surprise; she clearly hadn’t been expecting that. Cautiously, she asks, "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
Bad, he’s not even human, he’s a demon king. He’s the demon king our family has spent centuries hunting. No human should be getting this close to a demon, especially one that their family is obsessed with exorcising. Your mom watches you with concern as you hesitate to answer. "Mom, he’s so weird and sometimes annoying. He constantly asks for baked goods, and with his aloof personality, I feel like I’m only grasping a fraction of who he really is.” You sigh while describing him. “But I like him," you admit. “It’s strange; everyone else seems so dull in comparison."
"____, it’s only been a week. It’s normal to experience strong emotions at the start of an attraction to someone new," she says, trying to reassure. "Just be cautious, okay? Don’t let these feelings overwhelm you." Yume watches her daughter through the screen, feeling guilty for not being there to provide support in person. She has never seen her have feelings for anyone beyond a simple crush. Now, it seems like she’s been completely swept off her feet by these new emotions. You need her, yet she can’t be there for you.
“Yeah.” You nod. Cautious? I’ve already given him my soul. She doesn’t understand. It’s not just a new crush that stirs strong feelings within you. Everyone else you look at seems to pale in comparison to him. Yet, you can’t be completely open about that. It’s weird. “Thanks, Mom. I’m going to take a shower."
“Wait!”
“Yes?”
“Was Ambrosius in your room just now?”
“No.” It’s technically not a lie.
“So?” Yasu grins down at his wife.
Yume bristles at the sight of her husband. "Wait, were you listening the entire time?" The man shrugs casually. "What? It's not like she said she only wanted to speak to you." Yasu narrowly dodges a stone hurled at his head. "She clearly wanted to have a mother-daughter conversation. Why do you think she went to the shower room?" Yasu hums thoughtfully. "Probably to keep Ambrosius hearing the conversation. He was obviously in her room." Yume's green eyes blaze with intensity as she glares at Yasu. "He was not in her room. She would have told me otherwise."
Yasu smirks. "Oh? Do you want to place a bet on it? I’ll wager 10,000 yen that he was in her room." Yume rolls her eyes. "And how are you planning to find out the truth?" "I'll ask Ambrosius when we meet in two weeks."
"How can you be so carefree about this? Given that you were eavesdropping, shouldn't you be worried?" In this moment, Yume feels a sense of hopelessness as she realizes she can't support her child, who clearly needs a mother to help her navigate these new feelings, while Yasu appears to be dismissing the situation entirely.
Yasu raises a questioning brow. "It was just a kiss, Yume." Yume's expression sours. "You're a father to a teenage girl. Where's the overbearing, overprotective side?" "Overprotective? What you’re describing, my dear, is toxic." Yume nods in acknowledgment. "You're right. I’m sorry. I'm just worried; she doesn't have anyone to rely on for this kind of support."
Yasu smiles as he sips his tea. "Oh, come on, our little angel can handle anything thrown her way." Yume responds dryly, "Tell that to teenage hormones. It wasn't too long ago that we were in their shoes." Yasu thinks for a moment before replying, "I’d say twenty years qualifies as quite a long time. I hate to admit it, but I completely forgot about those raging hormones." He sighs and adds, "You know what? This is all your fault," Yasu says.
Yume stared at him in disbelief. "My fault?" she asked, incredulous. "Yes, definitely your fault," Yasu replied with a laugh, dodging another stone that was thrown his way. "How is this my fault?" Yume demands. "I don't know, but it just feels that way," Yasu teases, still chuckling. "But in all seriousness, what do you suggest we do about those teenage hormones?”
"Let’s talk to the headmaster about getting her a roommate.”
As you step back into your room, you notice Amaimon sprawled across your bed, engrossed in a handheld game. "Are you going to finish the cake now?" he asks casually, his gaze never leaving the screen. "Y-yeah," you stammer, feeling a flush of embarrassment. Approaching the cake and icing bowl, you realize you've spent more time than you intended lost in thought under the shower. Your mom hadn't been much help, but you can't blame her; sharing the whole story with her feels impossible. Even leaving out his identity as Amaimon, divulging the details of what unfolded in his bedroom is simply out of the question. It’s all a mess, and Amaimon gives you a bored look as you start mixing the icing. It’s as if nothing happened earlier. You don’t kiss someone like that and then act like nothing happened, you think bitterly as you stare down at the swirling chocolate. Why can’t anything be normal for you?
“Why are you crying?”
You squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath; it feels like too much to bear. You try to ignore him and the tears. You’re so exhausted.
In moments like this with a friend, there are generally two choices: either to leave the crying friend alone for some space or to approach them to offer comfort. But that’s what humans would do.
The demon approaches you with a curious expression. "____." He nudges you gently. When you don't respond, he takes your face in his hands, compelling you to look at him. "Why are you crying?" he questions again. He says it in such an innocent way. Is he truly that ignorant?
You take a few deep breaths to collect yourself as you remove his hand. "My life has been completely turned upside down in just a week; I’m exhausted and filled with anger." Turning away from him, you add, "The cake will be done in a minute, so just wait for a bit."
As you finish icing the cake, emotions welling up inside are difficult to suppress, and a frustrated scream escapes your lips. Amaimon stares wide-eyed at you as you glare at the cake. "You know what? Forget it. I'm fine. Everything is fine. Tomorrow, I'm going to find Shiemi and make her my best friend—someone I can talk to about all these things." You push the cake towards Amaimon. "The cake’s done, and I'm heading to bed." He tilts his head, watching you with curiosity as you climb into your bed.
The following morning, an unusual sound in your ear jolts you awake. As you stretch and rub your eyes, you become aware of a tightness around your waist. Startled, you turn to your right and see Amaimon leaning against the headboard, still shirtless, completely absorbed in his handheld video game. Glancing down at your waist, you realize that it’s Amaimon’s tail wrapped tightly around you. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up. I’m bored,” he says. You yawn and reply, “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. What time is it?” “I don’t know.”
“Normally, you’d check your phone or watch and tell the person asking for the time.” You let out a sigh as everything that happened yesterday floods back to you. It feels like a fevered dream. I can’t believe I broke down like that. “Amaimon, I’m really sorry about yesterday.” You groan while the memories replay in your mind. Why did I cry? Why did I have to tell Mom? It’s so embarrassing. “Sorry for what?” When he turns to you with a blank expression, you shake your head. “About the meltdown—never mind. I really just want to find Shiemi today. Please, could you leave? I need to get dressed.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to go outside. To do that, I need to put on something other than pajamas.”
“Why do I have to leave?”
“Because I don’t want you to see me naked.”
“Why?”
Amaimon's seemingly innocent question hangs in the air, his curious gaze locked onto you. You feel a blush rising to your cheeks in response to his candidness. He should’ve come across scenes like this in a handful of manga he’s read.
Clearing your throat, you respond, "Because it's inappropriate for you to see me naked, Amaimon," though you realize that decency probably doesn’t hold much weight for a demon.
A flicker of amusement dances in his golden eyes as he tilts his head, studying your flustered expression. "But we're already familiar with each other's bodies," he says, his nonchalant tone sending a jolt of disbelief through you. “Not like that, we aren’t. Amaimon, get out.”
“Okay.”
You’re surprised when he steps out of the room without further argument about why he should stay. Quickly, you change into shorts and a top, not trusting the demon king to remain outside, especially considering how easily he gave up. When you open the door, Ambrosius is there, staring at you. “I’d like to meet up with Shiemi at some point if she’s free. Do you have any plans today?” Amaimon shakes his head. “Right, well, it’s about ten o’clock. Maybe we should stroll around for a bit and decide.”
Twenty minutes later, you and Amaimon stroll through the park. “These demons are weird.” Amaimon comments as he reads some volume of Demon Slayer. You let out a sigh. “I’ve told you; you can’t compare a fictional story to real life.” For the past ten minutes, he’s been pointing out all the ways it’s inaccurate, nitpicking every detail. “Why don’t you try reading something else? I’ll help you choose a new book." You gently pull him towards a nearby kiosk.
He brought along four different volumes of manga, and now you find yourself debating which one to recommend—one that won’t raise any awkward questions from passersby. "Miss Aoki~” Both you and Amaimon look up to see the towering figure of the headmaster standing a few meters away. "How are you today? And my dear nephew Ambrosius.” You glance between the two brothers. Initially surprised, it dawns on you that since Amaimon revealed the truth to you, he hasn’t left your side. So Mephisto likely isn’t aware that you know who Amaimon really is. Right? “I’m good, how about you?" you ask.
“Fantastic! Though I must say, I’m surprised you’re not with Rin.” He rests his hand on his chin while looking thoughtful. You stare at him, perplexed. “Why would I be with Rin?”
“Oh, I see. It hasn’t happened.” He flashes a bright grin at you.
You tilt your head, still confused. What hasn’t happened? He’s just as strange as Amaimon, but in an entirely different way. You glance over at Amaimon on your right. “Sorry, are you talking about Rin Okumura?”
“Yes! You see, Rin and Yukio’s father was like an older brother to your mother,” he says with a bright grin. “It would be wonderful to see the new generation embracing this, now that all three of you understand the world of demons and exorcists.” He smirks at Amaimon as he continues, “Also, Fujimoto often joked with your mother about how cute you and Rin would be together.”
Fujimoto? Your eyes widen in surprise. You’ve met him a few times before, the last being about a year ago, when he expressed his hope that you would meet his sons one day. “He’s Rin and Yukio’s father?”
“I told you, she’s my human,” Amaimon glares at him.
“Your human? What an odd thing to say.” Mephisto comments with a feigned look of confusion. “Anyway, yes! He was Rin and Yukio’s father. Unfortunately, he passed away recently. But I know he always wanted you to meet Rin and Yukio. From what I’ve heard, your mother and Fujimoto would joke about how perfect you and Rin would be together. I believe they had planned for you two to meet, considering Rin also wasn’t aware of exorcists and demons.” You frown at this strange story, trying to determine whether it’s true or not. Beside you, Amaimon lets out a low growl. “She’s mine.”
Mephisto raises an eyebrow as his gaze sweeps over the two of you. “Oh dear.” He leans in closer, noticing something unusual on your neck. “I see; well, I should be on my way. It was a pleasure seeing you, Miss Aoki. And Ambrosius, do behave yourself.”
You watch as Mephisto bows slightly before turning to leave, a mischievous glint in his eyes. As he disappears around the corner, a sense of curiosity lingers regarding the revelation about Rin and Yukio's father—the connection between your mother and Fujimoto, and the way Mephisto had mentioned it. It’s weird.
“So…” you mumble, raising your hand to your throat. “I think I should buy some bandages.” You hadn’t paid any attention while getting dressed and completely forgot about the mark Amaimon left the other day. “I told you not to cover it.”
“Yeah, I remember. Still, I’m going to cover it.” You sigh. “It’s not normal for humans to walk around with marks like this. I told you. It’s really inappropriate, especially for a high schooler.” The thought of a classmate seeing it makes you grimace, worrying about the gossip that could follow.
“So?”
“So? Why don’t I mark you then?” When he doesn’t respond for a moment, you press on. “See? You don’t want—”
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
He tilts his head to the side, exposing the right side of his throat. "Go ahead," he says, his expression stoic as he waits for your next move.
“I’m not biting you, Amaimon.”
“It was your idea,” he replies flatly.
You let out a groan, rubbing your hands over your face. “I was trying to make you understand that if you don’t want to walk around with a mark, why would I?” He straightens his head. “It doesn’t matter to me.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
Mephisto's lips curl into a satisfied grin as he watches his younger brother struggle to understand his human companion. "I never considered this possibility before. But I must say, it proves to be even more beneficial for me than my original plan," he remarks, a knowing glint in his eyes.
“Stop it," you grumble as Amaimon reaches for the bandage, clearly annoyed that you’ve covered it. While you’re struggling with him, your phone buzzes with a text. His attention shifts from your throat to the screen. “Shiemi says she can meet up today.” You pointlessly mention considering he’s reading over your shoulder. You quickly type a reply, asking where she’d like to meet.
When Amaimon starts to follow you, you make a useless attempt to have a girls-only day with Shiemi. “I promise you; I’m not going to hunt down Rin or something. You don’t have to stay with me twenty-four seven.” “Big brother is planning something.”
You cannot argue with that. The peculiar conversation with Mephisto left you feeling confused and gave you the impression that he is plotting something concerning you and Rin.
So, you make no more arguments when he follows you to a cute flower-themed café Shiemi mentioned she wanted to try.
It's fortunate for you that Shiemi seems just as eager for a girlfriend as you are. The two of you sit side by side, perusing the menu. Each item offers a hint of floral flavor.
"Why don't we order an assortment of these cakes?" you suggest, pointing at a picture showcasing several bite-sized treats. Across the table, Amaimon glares at you, displeased that you’ve distanced yourself from him. Shiemi nods enthusiastically.
"That looks great! What do you think, Ambrosius?" She makes a friendly effort to engage him in the conversation. When he remains silent, you chime in on his behalf.
"He loves sweets, so it’s a perfect choice. Ambrosius, take a look at the menu and feel free to add whatever you like to the order.” You slide the second menu closer to him.
“They’re so pretty!” Shiemi praises the cakes as they’re placed on the table by the waitress. “Thank you!” The waitress grins down at the three of you. “I hope you enjoy them.”
“Hey Shiemi, what’s your dream travel destination?” You question, curious to learn more about her. A dream destination can tell you a lot about a person. She blushes, “The Amahara Garden is supposed to have every plant in the world, so I’d like to see it someday.” You watch her eyes light up as she shares more about the garden and her grandmother. “Hmmm, that does sound nice.” Shiemi gives you a curious look, throwing the question back at you. “Where I’d like to go?” Your fingers tap against the table as you think. Shiemi’s destination has so much emotion behind it, even if it might not be a real garden. You don’t want to give a half-hearted answer like ‘somewhere with a blue beach.’ You purse your lips. “Somewhere, I can see stars clearly. I want to see stars without all the light pollution. I really love stars. They’re so beautiful; even seeing just one in a city with light pollution, I get excited. Or maybe somewhere with the northern lights, like Norway. Imagine staying in an ice hotel.” You laugh at the idea. “Ice hotel?” She asks.
"Yes, you've never seen one? You have to see it." Excitedly, you pull out your phone and start googling ice hotels in Norway. "See? Although, I don't know how comfortable it would be to sleep on ice bundled up in a ton of clothes and a sleeping bag." You giggle. Shiemi nods excitedly. "It sounds fun. We should go someday.” You laugh at the fact the two of you are already talking about future trips that you’d like to go on together.
When Shiemi notices that Amaimon isn’t participating, she tries to bring him into the conversation. “Where would you like to travel, Ambrosius?” But Amaimon remains focused on the manga, ignoring anything being said. “At this rate, he’ll probably end up being the third wheel if we ever travel together,” you joke.
“Third wheel?” Amaimon finally looks up.
“Yes, just like you are now.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you invited yourself. This would have just been Shiemi and me, but now you’ve joined us, making you the third wheel.” You provide the best example you can think of for someone who has never heard the term 'third wheel’ before. Amaimon glances at Shiemi and then shifts his focus back to you. "Based on what you said, isn’t she the third wheel then? It was the two of us, and she joined. Number three.”
Leaning across the table you shove a rose-flavored cake in his mouth. “Hush.”
When you’ve had your fill of cakes, you slide some cash towards Amaimon. “Please go pay.” “Big Brother can pay for it.” He ignores your money as he stands to go pay.
"I want cookies," Amaimon demands, pulling you into your dorm without a moment's hesitation after saying goodbye to Shiemi. "What about the cake I made for you last night?" you ask, taken aback by his sudden request. "I finished it last night," he replies casually, as if it's the most ordinary thing in the world. You raise an eyebrow, in disbelief. "Did you really spend the whole night eating cake?" He nods, confirming your suspicion. Of course, he did. “We just had cake at the café.”
“Cake isn’t cookies.”
A vibration in your pocket draws your attention away from the conversation.
Shiemi: I forgot to ask you, will you come to Mepphyland Saturday?”
Notes:
So, MC had a tiny meltdown. She really needs a friend to vent to and help her navigate all these feelings. MC is also like most 18-year-olds and really doesn't want to have these conversations with her mom, even if she wasn't angry at her.
Mepphyland is going to be in the next chapter....which is actually going to be from episode 12 🫢
Just because MC cares about keeping it a secret doesn't mean Amaimon does. So, we'll see what happens.
I've got a 33 hour flight tomorrow and will be visiting my family, so we'll see about how fast the next update is. I'd like to get it done during one of the painfully long flights (13 hours then 8 😭) but we'll see. It will be within the next two weeks though. Promise
Next chapter will also have more affection between MC and Amaimon
Chapter 14: Chapter 14
Summary:
Warning: This chapter has smut in the beginning.
Updated December 19 so the smut is better lol
Chapter Text
'What are you doing?' you ask, turning to see Amaimon stepping behind you. 'I told you not to cover it,' he complains, gently pushing your hair aside to take off the bandage. 'Amaimon, I can’t walk around with it on my neck. Your older brother noticed it when he approached us."
"Yes, that's the point,” he replies.
You tap the bowl of cookie dough with your fingers. "If you want cookies, find something else to occupy yourself with. I can't concentrate with you hovering over me like this." His warm breath on the back of your neck makes it hard to focus on anything else. “It looks done to me.”
"You know I have to bake it before you can eat it, right?" You pause for a moment, wondering if he aware that some people also eat cookie dough raw. "I read in a book that it’s best to refrigerate the dough first is best." He responds quickly, his hands finding their way to your waist.
You try to ignore how his touch sends shivers down your spine as you mix the dough. "Well, while we wait for the dough to chill, why don't you grab the baking pans and the baking mat?" you suggest, trying to distract yourself from the swirling emotions inside you. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, pulling you closer as he rests his chin on your shoulder.
“You know, I don't really care about the cookies right now," he murmurs, his warm breath tickling your ear. Your heart races at his words, fully aware of where this is leading. But before you can reply, he gently kisses your neck, making you let out a shaky breath.
"I think I'd prefer something sweeter than cookies," he says, spinning you around to face him. His expression is unreadable as he leans closer, his lips just a breath away from yours. The world around you fades as you get lost in his eyes.
Your heart races in your chest as you reach up to caress his cheek. Without a word, he closes the distance between you, pressing his lips against yours.
As the kiss intensifies, his lips feel both sweet and irresistible. You instinctively grasp his hair, pulling him nearer as you surrender to the moment. The heat surrounding you is palpable, with every touch igniting a thrilling jolt of energy within you.
As you break the kiss, your eyes lock with his, and you find yourself panting slightly. A wave of boldness washes over you as you reach for the back of his head, pulling him closer for another searing kiss. His taste is like a forbidden drug, one that you can't resist.
As his hands roam over your body, the pull between you is magnetic and undeniable, as if fate itself has brought you together in this electrifying moment.
As he moves away, you shyly rest your head on the curve of his neck, feeling bashful after the intense moment. He allows you to remain in that position, with your arms around his neck, as you partially hide from him. “Do you want to bite me now?” he asks.
You ignore his question and focus on the cookie dough, searching for something to wrap it in before putting it in the refrigerator. You take a moment to gather your thoughts. "_____," he complains, poking you in the back. “Are you going to bite me?” he asks. “Mark my body.”
“Would any marks stay on your body?" Even if you did leave marks on him, they would probably heal within a few hours. "I can change my appearance; you can leave as many marks as you like. People will see them on Ambrosius." His hands slide back to your hips. "Though, you’re more attracted to me like this." He says bluntly, causing you to blush. Even if it’s true, it’s embarrassing to hear from him.
Slowly, he leans down until his lips hover just above yours. "I want you to leave marks all over me," he whispers against your lips. "Tomorrow, everyone will see the marks I leave on you. If you mark me too, it’ll be obvious to them who you belong to.”
Your heart races as his words wash over you, a mix of desire and disbelief swirling inside. His lips so close send a shiver down your spine. "I-I don't know if that's a good idea," you manage to stammer out.
He steps back, loosening his tie and sliding off his vest. Tantalizingly slow, his hands move to unbutton his striped shirt, revealing more of his broad shoulders. He tilts his head to the left, giving you better access as he boldly states, "Bite me, ____."
You hesitate momentarily, your mind racing as he stands there, half-undressed and waiting. You take a deep breath and step closer to him, your fingers brushing against his chest.
It’s awkward. Are you supposed to bite him randomly? Maybe he’ll just drop it if I bite him once. Timidly, you lean in and sink your teeth into his warm flesh. He lets out a low groan as you bite him. Pulling back, your eyes lock on the spot, showing indentions of your teeth. It’s kind of exhilarating. He turns to face you, “Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
He stares as if you asked a dumb question. “To my room,” his eyes trail towards your bed. It’ll be more comfortable.” He opens the door to his room using the eternity key, beckoning you to follow him. As he walks towards the bed, his shirt drops from his body, and he pulls off the arm warmers. “Get on the bed, ____.” He nods towards the bed and starts to remove his belt.
Awkwardly, you sit on the edge of the bed. His intense gaze makes you squirm as he undresses. Surprisingly, he puts on a pair of loose, dark green pajama pants. You watch, tense, as he walks to the bed, climbing over you. He moves to sit on your waist while opening his mouth, reminding you of his fangs, before leaning down and latching onto the left side of your neck. You let out a soft gasp as they pierce your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. He pulls away, admiring the mark he’s left on you before running his warm tongue over the wound. His mouth trails along your neck, leaving behind slow, deliberate marks on your skin. As you allow him to do what he wants, there’s a warning in the back of your mind. Screaming at you, he’s a demon, stop.
"Amaimon," his name slips from your lips when he finds a spot you didn’t even know existed that sends waves of pleasure through your body. He growls, hearing his name on your lips, hungrily covering them with his own. Slowly, he pulls away from the kiss and lays down beside you on your right. His hand gently trails along your outer left thigh. “Do you trust me?” Amaimon whispers as his claws make circles on your skin. When you nod, his hand moves to your inner thighs. “Still?” You nod. Amaimon moves his fingers to gently brush over your clothed core. “_______, can I taste you?”
“What do you mean?”
His hand slips to the waistband of your pants, teasingly slipping his fingers under the band. “What do you think I mean?” As he speaks, his hand slips down your pants, gently running his fingers along your covered slit. “_____, can I taste you?”
Your eyes widen as it hits you what he means. “Uh, I’ve never.”
“I know.”
“What do you mean, you know?”
Amaimon ignores your question, “______, I don’t like repeating myself, answer my question.”
Your face burns as he continues to run his fingers along your covered slit casually, and there’s no change in his expression. He’s staring blankly at you. Awkwardly, you nod. “Speak _____.” One of his fingers slips under your underwear and collects a bit of your slick; while staring you in the eye, he pulls his hand from your clothes and brings the finger to his mouth. His eyes widen a fraction at the taste of you. “Speak now.”
“Y-yes, you can.”
He pulls your pants and underwear down in one fluid motion and quickly positions himself between your legs. He spreads your thighs and just stares. It’s when you start to become self-conscious that he finally moves, slowly running his tongue along your slit.
He laps cautiously at first, as though tasting a new type of fruit for the very first time. The sensation makes a shiver ripple down your spine, and you let out a low gasp. Not because of pleasure, not yet, but because of the sheer strangeness of it all. You’ve never been this exposed, this bare before anyone. But here you are, laid bare before Amaimon, the Demon King of Earth himself.
He moves his attention to your swollen clit, his tongue dancing over the sensitive bud. Unexpected waves of pleasure crash over you, and you grip the sheets beneath you in a futile attempt to ground yourself. You squirm beneath his ministrations, involuntary moans escaping your lips as he continues to lap at your most intimate place.
“Stop moving,” he says against your heated flesh, a note of amusement tinging his otherwise detached voice.
You try to keep still but his tongue is relentless, teasing you until your senses blur, and you’re left gasping.
He teases you, driving you towards the edge but denying you a release. The feeling is intense, and you can't help clutching at his hair — that comforting sea of green strands.
"Be patient," Amaimon murmurs against your skin.
Just when you think you can't take any more, that you'll shatter beneath him, Amaimon glides a single finger into you. You gasp sharply at the intrusion, but his finger feels nothing short of divine against your innermost walls. He eases it in and out slowly, matching the rhythm of his tongue and sending your senses spiraling.
"Amaimon," you whimper his name again, arching off the bed as a sudden jolt of pleasure courses through you. He maintains his rhythm, coaxing more whimpers and moans from you with each flick of his tongue and stroke of his finger.
Slowly, he adds a second finger, stretching you further. The pressure builds in your lower belly, and each flick of his tongue sends sparks cascading through your body, intensifying the pleasure coursing through your veins. Your heart races with anticipation; each thrust of his fingers brings you closer to the edge, until it seems like every nerve ending in your body is alight with desire.
“Do you like it?” He questions, lifting his head for a moment.
His fingers work expertly within you, curling at just the right angle to brush against the spongy front of your walls. The sensation makes you buck involuntarily against his hand and he pulls back.
"I thought I told you not to move."
"I can't help it," you admit, raking your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer again. "I need more."
Amaimon raises an eyebrow at that but complies, resuming his fervent ministrations. He works carefully, methodically, charting every inch of you with his fingers and tongue until you think you might go mad with pleasure. He circles your clit with his tongue, tantalizingly slow, before dipping lower again to taste your arousal.
The pressure builds steadily, his fingers curl within you, seeking out the sensitive spots that should make stars explode behind your eyes. His tongue follows suit, tracing intricate patterns along your folds that have your breath hitching and body writhing beneath him.
Under Amaimon's careful hands, your pleasure spirals higher and higher until the faintest touch has you gasping. The world narrows down to him – the sensation of his tongue against your sex, the rhythmic pumping of his fingers. You clutch at his hair, fingers twining into the dark green strands, pulling him impossibly closer. The coil within you tightens, your breaths grow more ragged, each inhale a battle and every exhale a sweet surrender.
"Amaimon," you gasp out, your voice a whisper. His golden eyes flick up to meet yours.
Suddenly, he removes his fingers, leaving you feeling empty. But before you can voice your complaints, he replaces them with his tongue and sucks deeply. A shock of pleasure runs through you like lightning. Your back arches off the bed and a strangled moan tears from your throat as your body convulses in waves of ecstasy. Amaimon rides out your orgasm expertly, gentle licks softening to soothing laps that gradually guide you back down from your intense high.
Your chest heaves, drawing in sharp gulps of air as you come down from the sudden rush. Amaimon pulls back, and moves to lay on his side beside you. He brings the two fingers that were in you to his mouth; you notice curiously that the claws have been removed. Once his fingers are cleaned, he turns his attention to you. His breath fans against your cheek in slow puffs as he watches you, his usual blank expression replaced with a look of possession and satisfaction. His clawed fingers trace lazy patterns on your bare abdomen, the gentle caresses contrasting starkly with his sharp nails tickling your skin. He leans in, kissing the damp skin of your neck.
"You taste even better than I imagined," he murmurs against your neck. The vibration of his voice sends another shiver down your spine, making you press closer into him.
His words are said with such nonchalance that it takes you a moment to comprehend them properly. Stunned silence stretches between you as you feel the weight of realization crash over you. You cover your face to hide your embarrassment that the demon king has imagined what you taste like.
Amaimon sits up, grabs the bottom of your shirt, lifts it above your head, and quickly removes your bra. He gently traces the curve of your ear with the tip of his claw, its cold touch against your flushed skin sending shivers up and down your spine.
Amaimon watches his human curiously as he licks his lip. I suppose I can wait. He leans over her as she pants and presses his lips against hers. “____, don’t forget, you have to mark me too.” He runs a sharp nail over the different marks on her neck and shoulders. As she struggles to keep her eyes open, he lays back on his back and pulls her against his chest. He’ll have to help his weak human build up more stamina.
“Wait, Amaimon, what about you?” You mumble awkwardly against him, unsure what to do now. Shouldn’t he be helping guide you into the next steps? “What do you mean?” He questions, causally running his sharp claws along your back. “I don’t know…”
Amaimon’s tail wraps around you. “Go to sleep ____.”
The following day, the blare of your alarm jolts you awake; you attempt to reach for your phone, but Amaimon’s grip tightens on you. His hand runs along your body. It’s when he touches your bottom that you remember you’re naked. “W-wait.” You jerk away, holding the bedding close to your chest with your face burning red. “What’s wrong?” He tugs you back to him. “I’m naked!” You squeak as he pulls you back against him. “I’m aware. I’m the one who took your clothes off, remember?” He questions, sounding annoyingly innocent, considering what happened between you two last night. “I can’t believe that happened.”
“Why? It would’ve happened Saturday night if your family hadn’t called.” You bury your face in your hands at that comment.
“Amaimon, we have school,” you nudge him. “I need to get dressed.”
“Do we have to go?” he questions, still running his claws down your body. “I think I prefer you like this.”
“Amaimon, please leave. I need to put on clothes.”
“No.”
“Amaimon.”
“My face was buried between your legs last night, and you’re worried about me seeing you naked? Also, it’s not like I won’t be there again.” He kisses one of the darker bite marks you’re unaware of as he speaks. “A-again?” You feel him nod against your shoulder. “We even have time now if you want.” He’s not even trying to sound seductive as he says it. “Oh, wait. No. I forgot you need to build up your stamina. You probably won’t be able to get out of bed in time for school. Tonight, then.”
Tonight? Your eyes widen. He wants to do it again? You stare at the wall, not sure what to say. "Amaimon, you want to do it again?" you say, letting out your thoughts.
“Yes, you don’t? You enjoyed it. I promise it’ll only get better from here.”
“Better?”
“Yes, I’ll use more than just my mouth. You aren’t that innocent, are you? You should know about this.” Before he starts some kind of sex education lesson, you sit up abruptly. “I’m aware, I’m aware. I’m just…surprised.”
“About what?”
“Well, about last night and the fact you didn’t request anything in return or go farther.” He blinks in confusion. “I’m sorry ____, I don’t think you could’ve handled going farther. Do you want to try tonight?” You just want to crawl into a hole and hide. You’re too embarrassed to admit aloud that you want to be intimate with him again. You turn towards him, leaning into his body, hiding your face against his chest. “Get up and shower. It’s hard resisting you when you smell like this.” He tugs you off the bed towards the bathroom attached to his room.
Smell like what? You stand confused, doubting any human would make a comment like that the morning after. Is it a demon thing? Another thing maybe you can find out through Shiemi without making it obvious. As you enter the bathroom and catch your reflection in the mirror, your eyes widen in disbelief. "Amaimon!"
“I told you I was going to mark you.” He replies back from the bedroom, knowing exactly why you’re upset.
These can’t be covered easily like that one bite mark; you’re covered in bite marks and bruises. Even your thighs have scratches all over them. You’d have to wrap your neck like a mummy to keep all of them hidden. Maybe if I cover the obvious marks, I can give a believable excuse regarding the others. But then, how will I explain the bandaids? “I’ll just shower first and go to my room. Maybe I have something to cover it up.” You grimace.
You hurriedly wash off, and when you step back into the bedroom, you notice that Amaimon has already opened the door to your bedroom. With a towel wrapped around you, you quickly walk inside, Amaimon following close behind. His gaze is fixed on your body as you grab your clothes. Even when your back is turned towards him, his gaze doesn’t falter. You quickly change into your underwear and uniform, and when you turn around, you see Ambrosius. "_____, you were supposed to bite me," he says, gesturing to his smooth neck. "Bite me."
“No, if I bite you, then people will connect it to the fact my neck is covered and realize they’re bite marks from you.” You huff while packing your bag.
“Yes. I know.”
“Amaimon.”
A thoughtful look crosses his face. “I suppose I’ll have to stay in this form tonight then. Or at least until you leave marks.” He mumbles as he leaves the room.
The day flies by, and you feel relieved that you haven’t made any friends in class just yet. The last thing you want is for someone to start asking a lot of questions about your throat. A teacher looked concerned but chose not to ask anything.
Your relaxing day has unfortunately come to an abrupt end as Katashi approaches you while you're enjoying dinner at a quaint outdoor ramen stand. “What is that?!” he screeches, seizing the attention of everyone nearby. The owner and a few customers look on with concern. You feel your back stiffen as Amaimon rests his chin on his fist, watching intently as Katashi stands opposite you, pointing at your throat. “I fell.” In hindsight, maybe you should have come up with a better excuse. “Fell? You expect me to believe that?” Not really.
“Didn’t I ask you to leave me alone?” He’s not great at listening. “I was going to keep walking by and leave you alone like you asked. But how can I leave you alone when you’re covered in those marks?” You notice the other people in the shop trying to glance at your neck without making it obvious. “I bit her.”
Slowly, you close your eyes and let out a deep sigh. Honestly, you could slap both of them. Having already paid, you rise from your seat, not caring that you’re only halfway done. “I’m leaving.”
“Leaving what-“
“He didn’t bite me; he’s just trying to get under your skin.” You tug your shirt down a bit while pointing to a mark where Amaimon had sunk his fangs in. “No human leaves marks like this. I fell and landed on some thorns. You just hate him and are oddly obsessed with separating us. My parents don’t care. They’ve seen him multiple times. You’re the only one who has a problem with him.” For now, anyway.
Katashi gazes at both of you, seemingly searching for something to complain about. “You’re always with him. Maybe you should make other friends. Why do you want to be with him all the time? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without him except at cram school."
“He’s my—” you hesitate, memories of last night flashing through your mind. Referring to him as a friend feels awkward. Yet, he’s shown no genuine emotional interest beyond possessiveness. Katashi and Amaimon watch you as you wrestle internally with what to call Amaimon. Realizing you have no answer, Amaimon pulls a book from his bag.
“According to this manga, I’m your boyfriend,” he comments, flipping through the pages. “We go on dates.” He holds a page open for you to see. “We kiss.” He turns to another page. “And we sle-“ you slap a hand over his mouth. Please don’t let Katashi have caught what Amaimon was saying. Katashi’s eyes widen comically. “It’s only been a week. Does your mom know?”
Well considering I didn’t know until this moment. Your expression likely mirrors Katashi’s closely. “____?” Amaimon nudges your shoulder. “Am I your boyfriend?”
“What do you mean, am I your boyfriend? You’re not really her boyfriend if you have to ask!”
“Oh. Really?” Amaimon prods you again. “____.” You shift your focus back to him. “Huh?” He leans in, pressing his lips against yours with surprising firmness. When he pulls away, you can almost sense the fury radiating from Katashi; you turn to your uncle, who looks like he might explode at any moment. His usual pale complexion is bright red. “I’m going to kill you.”
“For kissing my girlfriend?”
“SHE’S NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND, SHE DIDN’T EVEN ANSWER YOU!”
Mid-explosion from Katashi, someone walks by dressed in an exorcist uniform. “Hey, Aoki!” the man grins, but as he approaches, he notices the furious expression on Katashi's face. “Is everything okay?” he asks cautiously. “No!” Katashi's furious green eyes lock onto Amaimon. “This creep claims that my niece is his girlfriend! He just kissed her without permission!”
The man glances at the two teenagers over whom Katashi appears to be losing his composure. You stand unusually close to Amaimon—much closer than typical teenagers do with their friends. “Cute first love," the man winks, tugging at the back of Katashi’s shirt as he pulls him back.
“WHY DO PEOPLE KEEP SAYING IT’S A FIRST LOVE!” He complains as he’s dragged away.
“I thought you said you don’t love me.” You bristle at his comment. “I don’t! Not like that. I mean, I guess I kind of like you. But not love.” Why did that guy have to say that?
“You guess? I don’t think you would’ve been under me last night if you didn’t like me.” He comments, making no hint of if he might like you back. Though that’s probably something you shouldn’t put too much hope into. “You can’t just openly mention that. What if someone hears?”
“Then they’ll know you’re mine.”
I wonder how my family will react when they find out about us. Katashi’s reaction when he just thinks Amaimon is a teenage boy named Ambrosius is dramatic enough. What will his reaction be when he finds out he’s actually Amaimon?
“I can’t believe you pulled out that manga, using it as an example, and asked if you’re my boyfriend.” You groan, replaying the memory over and over. “Oh, that’s right, you didn’t answer me.” He starts to poke you again. “_____, am I your boyfriend?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “Why don’t you tell me?”
He holds the manga he had shown Katashi in front of you. As he flips through the same pages, he turns to you with an expectant gaze. He must be joking; you refuse to believe that a thousand-year-old demon king needs to be told something like this. “Call me whatever you want, I don’t care.”
“Really, but from what I’ve read, human women always want the man to call them their girlfriend.” He hums to himself in thought as he flips through the pages. “Oh, are you being tsundere?” You turn to him in disbelief, “Please put down the manga.”
Oddly enough, the rest of your week is pretty quiet. Amaimon has gotten much more comfortable placing his hands, and sometimes mouth, all over you. Despite his comment Monday morning of trying to go further that night, Amaimon seemingly changed his mind. His attention is always focused on you and your pleasure. Always claiming he wants to build your stamina before going further.
Shiemi 🥰 : Will you be able to come today?
It’s Saturday morning. Amaimon had mumbled about his brother before leaving you for the day. Which means you can go to the amusement park with Shiemi and have a girl’s day.
You: Of course!
You choose a cute, light summer dress perfect for the weather and a girls' day out with Shiemi. The dress falls just above your knees. As you walk towards Mepphyland, you feel a wave of giddiness wash over you. When was the last time you visited an amusement park with a friend?
Of course, nothing is ever easy for you; the idea of a fun girls' day with Shiemi quickly vanishes as you spot a small group and an empty theme park. Your eyes widen at the scene in front of you, panic washing over you. Oh no. Shiemi is the first to see you. “____! I’m so glad you could make it.” She runs toward you, grinning brightly. Rin quickly follows.
“Yeah! I was surprised to hear you were coming. It’s great.” Off to the side, you notice him, Katashi. He’s awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, trying his best to avoid your scowl. “What is going on here?” The amusement park is closed, and a group of exorcists is staring at you. Shiemi quickly takes your hands in hers, apologizing repeatedly. “I’m so sorry! I gave you the wrong time, but we’ve been waiting for you.” She seems completely oblivious to why you’re upset. “Shiemi, you invited me to an amusement park.”
She nods.
“So, why is it closed, and exorcists are here?”
Confusion clouds her expression. “___, I thought you knew. Katashi asked me to invite you, and he said he’d provide you with the details since I didn’t have them yet.” Her grip on you loosens. All eyes turn to Katashi. The other students and Yukio stare at him in confusion while you glare. “Katashi.” A growl escapes from you lips.
“Let me explain!” He continues to elaborate on the situation. “I’m sorry, I might’ve misled Shiemi,” he admits. “So, don’t be upset with her. I just want you to see another side of being an exorcist. I promise you won’t be in danger.” He tells you of the little boy’s spirit and wants you to understand that it’s not all about fighting demons. It’s just another perspective he’s trying to show you, even though you’ve made your stance clear. While you’re furious with him, you can’t blame Shiemi; she’s only trying to help the spirit of a child. As long as you keep your distance from Rin, everything should be fine, right? “Are you going to stay?” you ask uncle.
“I hadn’t planned to, but if you’d like me to.”
“I’d rather you not.”
The students you haven’t met watch the exchange awkwardly. Noticing their eyes on you, you clear your throat and shift your tone to something more civil. “Katashi, please leave.” He deflates slightly but nods, quickly bidding everyone goodbye.
“Allow me to introduce you to everyone,” Yukio stated, quickly stepping into his role as the teacher to diffuse the awkwardness of the moment. “Miss Aoki, would you be so kind as to give a brief introduction?”
“Right, my name is ____ Aoki. I apologize for the incident you just witnessed. Because of an awkward family situation, I’m not comfortable with the idea of being an exorcist.” You choose to be completely honest—there’s no need to beat around the bush about it. “So, um, I’ve met Rin, Mr. Yukio, and Shiemi.” You hint, waiting for others to introduce themselves. The pink-haired boy speaks up first; sporting a smirk, he introduces himself as Shima. “Since you’re new to town, why don’t I take you out sometime?” A stern-looking teen steps toward Shima and shoves him. “You know she has a boyfriend. You’ve seen them together around campus.” He doesn’t mention that just yesterday, they saw you on campus with your boyfriend, and Shima was complaining about how someone like that weirdo could get someone like you. “Be more respectful. I’m sorry about him. My name is Suguro. This is Konekomaru.” A shorter boy wearing glasses waves at you. The purple-haired girl from the school gives you an unimpressed look. “So, if something happened, you can’t even defend yourself?” Her tone is mocking, as if she’s trying to hurt your feelings. “That’s right. No worries, I’ll just use you as a shield.” She bristles at your comment. “My name’s Kamiki; you can find another shield.” Shima jumps in. “Oh, I’ll happily be your shield Aoki.”
Lastly, two standoff boys introduce themselves, “Yamada.” The hooded one waves. “Takara.” A creepy pink rabbit puppet speaks for the odd blond. Is he using a different voice for the rabbit? Is that rabbit a demon that’s possessed the boy? You choose to push down all the questions about the odd boy.
Yukio clears his throat. “Right, let’s split up into groups. _____, you’ll be with Rin and Shiemi.”
“Rin? But I—” You panic; if Amaimon finds out, he’ll probably try to kill Rin or Yukio for putting you with Rin. Rin frowns at your reaction. “What’s wrong?” You can’t tell him the truth. “Nothing, sorry. So, we’ve got to find a kid’s spirit?”
“Are you still angry with me?” Rin asks as the three of you stroll through the amusement park. An awkward distance has developed between you two, and you’ve been trying to avoid any conversation, anxious about Amaimon’s potential reaction. “No, it wasn’t your fault what happened back then. I’m just feeling a bit tense about the situation that Katashi tricked me into.” You remind yourself not to worry; Amaimon is doing something for his brother, so you’ll be fine as long as you just don’t tell him.
“I’m really sorry _____.” Shiemi hugs you halfway to your destination. “It’s okay. I promise.” You nudge the blonde to release her grip. “No, it’s not. You thought we were going to the amusement park and—” You sigh. “Shiemi, it’s fine. Once this situation gets resolved, we can come back.”
“Yeah! That’s a great idea!” Rin grins brightly at the two of you. While Shiemi mirrors his grin, you raise an eyebrow. “Did you just invite yourself to our girls’ day?” His face burns red at your comment. “I’m sorry, I thought—” He starts to panic at the thought that he might have rudely invited himself. You pat the poor boy on the shoulder. “Breathe, it was a joke.” Shiemi perks up as an amazing idea crosses her mind. “____, you can invite Ambrosius to go with us!”
She’s nearly bouncing in place with her great idea. You turn towards Rin, lowering your voice for only him to hear. “Shiemi wants to go on a double date.~” You tease. I wonder if Amaimon would agree; he’s curious about our world. He might like an amusement park. Plus, it’ll make it clear Rin is into Shiemi. The poor teen looks like his head might explode at the idea of going on a date with Shiemi.
As the three of you approach the carousel, a strange voice echoes through the air, and suddenly, the carousel begins to spin on its own. Rin instinctively steps forward, placing his arms protectively in front of Shiemi and you, silently warning you to stay back. Puzzled, Shiemi asks, "Why is it running on its own?" With a serious expression, Rin replies, "It's coming." Coming? What is coming? You step behind the two of them, unsure of what to expect. Better to be safe behind them.
As the carousel comes to a halt, a small ghost of a little boy appears atop one of the horses. While Shiemi admires Rin for having sensed the ghost's presence, you remain behind them, wary. Yukio had mentioned that this ghost was causing problems. Only a fool would outright trust it. Yet, with that thought in mind, Shiemi, the fool in this instance, decides to approach it.
“Hey, don’t talk to a demon!” Rin warns. Wait, is it a demon or simply a little boy’s spirit? Do all people become demons when they die?
Being the sensible, normal human that you are, you choose to sit back and let Rin and Shiemi deal with the situation. You watch, raising an eyebrow as Rin yells at the spirit, while Shiemi scolds him for yelling, worried it will only upset the spirit further. The tiny ghost suddenly flies forward, pressing his head against Shiemi’s chest and recounting how, when he was sick, his parents promised to take him to an amusement park, but now he cannot come since he has died. Your heart aches at his words, and you see that Shiemi's heart is also heavy as she tries to comfort the little ghost.
“Shut up, you old hag!” The boy wrenches away with a mischievous grin as he shoves his hands into Shiemi’s chest. Oh, hell no. Instinctively, you cover your own. The little brat calls the three of you morons before vanishing. “I wanna squeeze them—” You slap the back of Rin’s head. “What the hell, Rin? You pervert.” you hiss. Both Rin and Shiemi quickly chase after the little weirdo while you follow behind carefully. There’s not much you can do to help, so why waste your energy?
Rin glances around as the three of you approach a statue of Mephisto. “Where did that pervert run off to?” You punch him lightly on the back. “Like you’re one to talk.” He frowns at you while you settle onto the base of the statue. “Rin, ____, I think I’ll check over here. Okay?” You nod, watching her sprint away.
“____, we’re supposed to report we found it.”
“Well, I don’t have anyone’s number, so you can go ahead.” You lean back against one of Mephisto’s legs while Rin calls, you assume, his brother. As Rin makes the call, something starts to lift the red bag he always carries. Both you and Rin glance up. Oh fuck. Amaimon is hanging off the top of the statue, a lollipop in his mouth. “Who the hell are you?” Rin asks.
You shrink in your seat, hoping that if you sit directly beneath the statue, Amaimon won’t notice you. “Who? Oh, yes.” You glance up timidly as Amaimon introduces himself to Rin. “I am Amaimon, a demon king. You could say I’m an older brother of yours. A pleasure to meet you. Also, I’m not giving this back,” he states, holding up the red bag. “Amaimon?” Rin’s gaze shifts to you. “Leave now. I’ll handle this.” Katashi has clearly shared your family background.
Amaimon’s attention shifts to you now. “____ Aoki.” He lowers himself to sit directly behind you, wrapping his right arm around your front, pulling you back against his chest as he settles in, nearly bringing you into his lap. His chin rests on your left shoulder. “Don’t you look delicious?” He takes the lollipop from his mouth as he speaks.
“Don’t touch her, you bastard!” Rin screams in your defense, but there’s little he can do with Amaimon holding you captive. Amaimon’s warm tongue glides from the base of your neck to just below your left ear, all while maintaining eye contact with Rin throughout the act. “Are you going to attack me?” he mocks, watching Rin change stances. “You don’t want to hurt ____, do you?” Amaimon relishes the moment as Rin internally panics, contemplating ways to save you from the demon king. Amaimon grasps your jaw, turning your head towards him. “Let me taste more.” He pulls you into a kiss. “Hmm, you’re so naughty, enticing me like this.”
“Let her go, you bastard!”
Amaimon leans in close to your ear, growling softly, “Didn’t you say you’d stay away from Rin?”
“Amaimon, I can explain— I—” But before you can finish, he pulls you into another kiss, gently biting your lip before breaking away. “I hope you have a good excuse,” he says, releasing you and stepping behind, turning his attention back to Rin. “Ah, so this is the Koma sword.”
Chapter Text
Amaimon moves the sword in front of his face, questioning how it works. You look up at him, confused; what is he talking about? As he draws the blade from the scabbard, blue flames envelop it. Even more surprising is Rin's transformation: his appearance changes as he is engulfed in blue fire, and his ears elongate. What the hell? The flames vanish as quickly as they appear when Amaimon puts the sword back in its scabbard.
Amaimon tests the sword, drawing it in and out of the scabbard, causing Rin's flames to flicker unpredictably. As he continues to toy with the sword, Amaimon casually mentions that it serves as a gateway to Gehenna. "Make up your mind!" Rin shouts in frustration. "All right then, let’s go with this," Amaimon replies, tossing the scabbard and catching Rin off guard. What had Rin expected? It was a foolish thing to say, and now he's surprised by Amaimon's decision. Amaimon discusses the notion that Rin's flames and body exist in different realms—it's all quite perplexing. Does this imply that Rin is also a demon? Amaimon calls him his brother. You realize you should pay closer attention to your surroundings as Rin lunges toward Amaimon. Thankfully, Amaimon is alert; he swiftly grabs you around the waist and pulls you out of harm's way just as Rin kicks the statue's head off. He carefully sets you down at a safe distance from Rin, yet you hesitate to release him. Fear takes hold, and you cling to his jacket, worrying about what could have happened if Amaimon hadn't been paying attention or didn't care to help. "Amaimon," you whisper. He gently pries your hands away before leaping onto the roller coaster.
“You almost killed ____.” It’s not true, regardless of whether anyone else knows it. Amaimon would never permit anyone to harm his human. But Rin visibly tenses, his focus shifting to you with guilt evident in his eyes. “____! Are you okay?” You can't help but furrow your brow. "Not really.”
You despise Katashi; he’s going to get you killed. Plus, Amaimon is upset that you’re spending time with Rin. All you wanted was a fun day out with Shiemi. Rin's gaze lingers on you for a brief moment, ensuring you're physically unharmed, before snapping his attention back to Amaimon. "Tell me what the hell you’re after.”
Amaimon looked on with an air of nonchalance. “I was bored, so I came by to play.” I thought he had to do something for his brother. You scowl at the demon king, questioning whether he had always planned to visit the amusement park. A heads-up would have been nice. Carefully, you take a seat, making sure not to stray too far from Amaimon's line of sight. Maybe if something were to happen, he would care enough to protect you.
"Since we're in an amusement park, let's amuse ourselves to the fullest!" You shake your head at his suggestion. With a snap of his fingers, he activates all the rides and attractions in the park. Is there anything he can't do with just a snap?
"Demon, come over here!" he calls, clapping his hands and shaking his hips in a bizarre dance. Where did he learn that? Your mood lifts immediately, and you can't help but cover your face as laughter bubbles up inside you. He is so weird.
Rin doesn’t find it as funny as you do. Instead, he continues to scream while attempting to climb the coaster to get closer to Amaimon. “I went to the beach the other day,” he suddenly says. Your gaze shifts from Rin to Amaimon. When did he go to the beach? He’s been attached to you almost the entire week. As the coaster approaches Amaimon, he gleefully jumps onto the first car and starts surfing along with it. "Surfing is fun!" he exclaims, riding toward Rin as if catching a wave. Since when has he been so excitable? You’ve never seen him like this before.
The speed of both combatants leaves you struggling to absorb every moment. Amaimon leaps off the coaster, confronting Rin in mid-air and effortlessly sends him flying with a mere flick of his finger.
Stay away from the demon. Warnings reverberate in your mind, reminiscent of the previous night. Amaimon's display of power is a stark reminder that he is more than just the teenage boy who clings to you, indulges in sweets, and has recently grown intimate with you. He is powerful. You hadn’t seen this side of him yet. It's precisely why your family has trained for generations. Even without a direct connection to them, they were well aware of his strength.
"I don't understand. Why would father and big brother so obsessed with something like this?" Amaimon questions, delivering a series of punches to Rin as they plummet. With one final blow, he launches Rin towards the ground at an accelerated speed.
As Rin crashes into the earth, forming a deep crater, Amaimon engages him casually while unleashing a flurry of strikes. "I'm disappointed," he says, "I thought you would kill my boredom. Hmmm, where is ____?"
Everything happens in a blur, yet Amaimon's words seem to ignite something within Rin. The demon king is thrown backward, landing several meters away from you. Amaimon tilts his head back, glancing at you for a brief moment before refocusing on Rin, who picks up steel beams from the roller coaster and hurls them at Amaimon. As Rin leaps onto Amaimon in an attempt to strangle him, the idiot cheers, “That’s the spirit,” and punches the ground, triggering an earthquake. You cry out in fear as the ground begins to shake beneath you. "Oh, sorry ___," he says, kicking Rin off and pulling you to safety as more steel beams crash down around you. "Don't die, okay?" he orders you before turning back to Rin. Suddenly, Shiemi screams, diverting Rin's attention. You feel helpless as you watch the steel beams collapse over the ball pit where she is trapped. You can only sit there, feeling a painful stab in your gut for not being able to help your friend. You’re just an average, useless human. "Help!" she cries out desperately.
“Do something, Rin!” you plead.
Amaimon stands confidently with one hand on his hip, while the other grips Rin’s sword as he surveys the chaos around him. Rin unleashes a torrent of flames that engulfs everything in its path, preventing any danger from reaching Shiemi. As Rin catches his breath, down on all fours, Amaimon casually strolls over and steps on his back, forcing him to the ground. He whispers something to Rin, though you can't quite make out the words. Concerned for Shiemi's safety, you inadvertently call out, "Rin!" Your voice betrays your worry. However, Amaimon misinterprets the source of your distress. "Rin?" he asks, redirecting his gaze towards you.
His attention shifts away from you when the hooded figure you encountered upon your arrival jumps between Amaimon and Rin, wielding his own sword. You ignore what he says, focusing solely on Amaimon in an attempt to catch his eye without frantically waving your arms and alerting others. “I wish you’d get out of the way…” Amaimon’s tone darkens, “I want to kill Rin.” “Actually, you’re in my way.” The hooded person, who sounds like a girl, replies. Did their voice change? Amaimon stands casually for a moment, observing the three before him. His gaze finally meets yours, and you quickly mouth words to him you misunderstood, I was worried about Shiemi. His demeanor shifts a bit. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind, perhaps another time.” Amaimon appears in front of you, leaning down to give you a quick kiss. He tosses the blade towards Rin and jumps away. “Farewell.”
“You sick bastard, come back here,” the hooded woman hisses as Amaimon disappears. “The others will arrive any second. Hide that tail of yours!” She hisses at Rin before jumping off into the shadows. Your focus shifts to the fact that Rin has a tail, just like Amaimon's, except it's black. “_____, are you okay?” Rin winces as he turns to you. “He assaulted you.” His guilty tone reveals his helplessness for not stopping it. Assaulted? Oh, the kisses! You panic. “Please don't tell anyone!” You plead with him. “Rin, I beg you, please don't tell anyone he kissed me or even acknowledged my existence. Katashi will harass me, and I can't handle it.” Rin looks at you, upset. “But what if he comes back? He kissed you multiple times.” He grips your shoulders as he speaks. “You can't let him get away with that.” “Promise me you won't say anything, Rin!” You urge. Rin gazes at you with concern, clearly worried for your safety. “But—”
“Rin! ____! Are you alright?” Shiemi calls as she rushes toward you both. “Promise me!" You demand. “Okay, okay, I promise.” You quickly reassure Shiemi that you're okay before searching for the woman who intervened in the fight, hoping she'll keep quiet about what happened.
The woman before you appears slightly annoyed, and you notice that she has lost sight of Amaimon. You quickly approach her, pleading, "I'm sorry to bother you, but please don't tell anyone that Amaimon kissed me." She raises an eyebrow and asks, "Why did he kiss you?” Shaking your head, you respond, "I have no idea. Maybe he was trying to provoke Rin—" She interrupts, “Really? It seemed more like a goodbye kiss. What’s the point of provoking Rin with a goodbye kiss if he’s just going to run off?” You frown; she’s too perceptive. Amaimon, you asshole.
“I don’t know, but if my family finds out, it will be complete chaos. My name is ____ Aoki, and I can't let them discover this truth. If something else occurs, I promise I'll share it with them. But for now, please keep this between us." You hope she understands your request. After a thoughtful pause, she finally responds, "Aoki... your family has been hunting Amaimon for centuries." You nod in acknowledgment. "Yes, um, please don’t mention this to them?” She takes a moment to consider your plea before replying, "Fine. But if he approaches you again, you must tell someone, understood?” You quickly nod in agreement. “I’m Shura, by the way. Are you training to be an exorcist too? I assume you’re Yume’s kid?”
“Yes, my mom is Yume, but I really want nothing to do with being an exorcist. Katashi tricked Shiemi into persuading me to be here today; I thought I was just meeting Shiemi for a girls' day out." You frown. “He’s trying to save me from Amaimon, but his ridiculous plan put me near Amaimon. I just don’t want him to know that I saw Amaimon or that he noticed me today.” She raises an eyebrow but ultimately agrees.
You distance yourself from the trainee exorcists, overwhelmed by discomfort and paranoia. The entire situation worries you, not only because you're concerned that Rin or that woman Shura might share your presence with someone but also because a torrent of questions swirls in your mind. Rin is a demon? Amaimon mentioned he’s like Rin's older brother. What the hell does that even mean? You watch the group intently, knowing you need to ask someone, but it seems only Rin, Yukio, and Shura possess the details about Rin's demonic nature. Amaimon is furious that you spent time near Rin today. Should I just risk speaking to Rin one more time today? Or maybe Yukio. I don’t want Rin to get hurt worse than he already is. “Damn it, okay.” You straighten, deciding just to bite the bullet. “Excuse me, Rin, Yukio. Could I speak to you for a moment?”
You lead the two of them away from everyone, just outside the amusement park gate. “I’m sorry if this is too personal, and please feel free to say no. However, I hope you’ll allow me to ask a couple of questions regarding what happened today.” Yukio meets your gaze evenly. “I’m sorry, Miss Aoki. The ghost caused a bit more damage than—” You interrupt him, getting straight to the point. “It’s about Rin being a demon.” Yukio stares at you, taken aback. “W-what? Rin isn’t a demon?”
“She saw everything Yukio.”
“Miss Aoki, please. I know it’s a complicated situation, but Rin-“
“Yukio, I’m not worried about Rin being a demon. I just have a few questions. Amaimon mentioned he’s like your older brother. Does that mean Satan is your father?” Rin snarls at the idea. “Yes. But I am going to defeat Satan; I don’t care-“
“I’m sorry to interrupt your speech, but how? How is he your father? Is your mother a demon?”
Yukio is the one to answer. “No, our mother was human.”
“Human?”
“Yes.”
“Demons and Humans can have children?”
Yukio opens his mouth to speak but quickly shuts it, his gaze fixed on something over your shoulder. Curious, you turn to discover what has captured his attention: Amaimon has appeared. Of course, he would show up as soon as you stepped out of the amusement park. "Ambrosius, what are you doing here?" you attempt to ask, but he ignores your words. Instead, he grabs your left hip with one hand and runs the other through your hair, pulling you into a passionate kiss. His anger is evident in both his actions and his words: "I should be asking you that." Rin’s face flushes bright red, while Yukio tries to maintain a neutral expression. “My uncle tricked me into coming here. I thought I was just visiting the amusement park with my friend Shiemi,” you admit. Yukio tries to come to your defense upon noticing that Ambrosius seems unusually upset. “Unfortunately, a ghost caused a bit more trouble than we anticipated, but she was safe the entire time.”
Amaimon pays no attention to the twins; his intense gaze locks onto yours, searching for any signs of dishonesty. After a moment of silent scrutiny, he nods. "Let's go."
Rin reaches for your wrist, tugging you back. “Wait, we were talking.” Yukio shoots Rin a look but says nothing. Rin frowns at the teen across from him, feeling uneasy as alarm bells ring in his mind while he watches Ambrosius interact with you. As the two of them engage in a tense stare-down, panic surges within you. Desperate to break the tension, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind: “Ambrosius, Amaimon kissed me.”
Shocked by your admission, Rin’s grip loosens, allowing you to slip easily into Amaimon’s arms. “Ambrosius, I’m exhausted. This was supposed to be a simple task of helping a child’s spirit move on, but then Amaimon showed up.” You squeeze his waist in annoyance. “Can we go? I don’t want to be here anymore. After everything that’s happened, I just want to leave.”
Yukio gazes at you, clearly troubled. “Wait, he kissed you?” “He kissed her multiple times and even licked her neck.” Rin winces at the memory. “I wanted to help, but I wasn’t strong enough. My weakness gave him the opportunity to assault you.” He clenches his fist in frustration as he speaks.
“Stop. I’m okay. I shouldn’t have said it with you two here. Please do not tell anyone. Katashi and the other Aokis can’t find out about what happened. Yukio, Rin. Please don’t tell anyone.” You start to panic. Why did you have to let it slip up? You had forgotten for a moment that Yukio didn’t know, and he’s an exorcist. “I won’t, I promise!” Rin promises you once again. You glance at Yukio, saying, “I promise I'll let someone know if Amaimon ever approaches me again. But today, he was clearly trying to provoke Rin.” You look desperately at the younger twin. Amaimon nudges you, inquiring, “What makes you think him kissing you had anything to do with Rin?” You shoot him a sharp look. “Ambrosius, please.”
If this conversation drags on any longer, Amaimon will inadvertently reveal your secret. Rin glares at Amaimon. “Shouldn’t you be upset that a demon kissed your girlfriend?”
“I’m furious,” he replies nonchalantly.
“It seemed like you were angrier that I touched her than about Amaimon kissing her.”
“Yes, do not touch what’s mine.”
“Yours?” Rin challenges, but you quickly interject, “Yes, I’m his, and he is mine.” You blurt out a cliché from teenage romances. You need to escape before Amaimon says something that exposes both of you. “Ambrosius, let’s go. Rin, Yukio, I'm sure you both have things to deal with after what just happened. I’m going to grab lunch with Ambrosius. Please remember, don’t tell anyone about Amaimon. I can’t let anyone know I saw him, let alone that he kissed me.” Amaimon pulls you away.
Rin watches helplessly as you follow Ambrosius, his mind spinning with conflicting emotions. He wants to protect you, but he can't shake off the feeling of unease that Ambrosius's presence brings. Yukio steps forward; concern etched on his face. "Rin, are you okay?" he asks quietly, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. “There’s something off about that guy.”
“Amaimon, even if they keep quiet about the fact that you kissed me,” you shoot him a pointed look. “Katashi is still going to lose his mind when he finds out you were seen.” As you speak, Amaimon leads you to a new restaurant that has been heavily advertised around town. Initially, you weren’t interested. However, one of the recent ads showcasing their desserts caught your eye, so that’s where you’re dragged.
The small restaurant is a nice blend of a sandwich shop and a dessert shop, exuding a cozy and inviting atmosphere. It’s the perfect spot for a midday meal. As you enter, your eyes quickly scan the room before settling on a small booth tucked away in the back. You make your way toward it, sliding into the cushioned seat with your back against the wall, facing the entrance. Instead of sitting across from you, however, Amaimon hovers over you. "Ambrosius, what are you doing?" you ask, craning your neck to look up at him. "Move over," he replies in a commanding tone, his expression unreadable.
“Huh?”
“I want to sit there.”
A heavy sigh escapes your lips. "So, you want to sit here? Fine.” As you attempt to stand, he catches you off guard by pushing you back into the booth and sliding in beside you. "Ambrosius, you're supposed to sit over there," you say, exasperation clear in your voice as you point to the empty side of the booth. "Why?" he asks, his gaze piercing into yours. "Because when it's just the two of us, we always sit opposite each other." He looks at the other side of the booth, seemingly deep in thought. "I'm sitting here,"
“Then I’ll move.”
“No.”
The waitress approaches with a menu, drawing your attention away from the peculiar seating arrangement. As you browse through the options, you feel Amaimon’s thigh brush against yours. His hand slides down to your thigh, gently tracing the outline of your dress. "____, what do you want?" he asks, nudging the menu closer for you to see. His touch distracts you from concentrating on the menu, yet you manage to point at a sandwich for your order.
Amaimon, however, orders a massive serving of shaved ice. "You should try to appear more normal and order a proper meal first," you sigh.
He squeezes your thigh tightly as the waitress walks away. “Why were you with Rin Okumura today?”
“I thought I was just having a girls’ day at the amusement park with Shiemi. Katashi asked her to invite me and mentioned he would send me the details later. I was really just looking forward to a fun day together.” You sigh, “You told me you were busy today, so I figured it would be the perfect opportunity to meet with Shiemi. But when I arrived and discovered the truth, I felt trapped.” Why can’t I have normal friendships? You lower your voice and ask, “What about you? You kissed me in front of Rin and Shura.”
“You like it when I kiss you.”
“Not in front of exorcists when you’re not appearing as Ambrosius,” you whisper. “You didn’t try to stop me.” You pause, replaying the scenes in your mind. Oh shit. With the woman Shura, she only witnessed a quick kiss before he left, giving you no time to react. But with Rin, it was more than just a chaste kiss, and you hadn’t seemed particularly concerned when he kissed you multiple times. Your only worry had been telling Rin that you didn’t want others to find out. Maybe Rin was too stressed to notice your reaction to Amaimon kissing you. “It’s hard to stop someone you’re attracted to from kissing you,” you complain. “It’s hard not to kiss someone you’re attracted to,” he replies flatly. “But you can’t just go around kissing random people just because you find them attractive.” You frown at the thought of him approaching random cute girls to kiss them. “Maybe I said it wrong. Oh, I know. It’s hard not to kiss my attractive girlfriend.” You purse your lips and turn away from him, feeling annoyed. “Are you being Tsundere again?”
You lower your voice. “Amaimon, I swear, if you don’t stop calling me that. I am not—” He interrupts you with a kiss. When he pulls away, you frown. “I’m not tsundere. You really shouldn’t kiss in a public restaurant like this. It’s just weird, especially in Japan.”
The waitress swiftly approaches you, placing your sandwich alongside Amaimon’s generous serving of shaved ice. It’s a massive portion, clearly designed for those eager to photograph and share their treat online or enjoy it among friends. “You really should eat real food, Amaimon," you whisper. His gaze shifts toward your sandwich, which is perfectly sliced in half.
“You always take my food,” you grumble as he reaches across to grab half of the sandwich. “You’re like a child,” you frown. “You said I needed to eat real food,” he shrugs, and you roll your eyes. We could’ve ordered you something else. It’s a bad habit. I hope you don’t steal food from others.”
“No, only you.”
You decide to let it go; it’s only half a sandwich, and as long as he doesn’t mind sharing the shaved ice, it’s fine.
“Your uncle is watching us,” Amaimon nudges you, an amused glint in his eyes. “What?” Both of you pivot to look at Katashi, who is sitting on a bench you just passed. He’s trying to hide his face behind a newspaper, attempting to blend in as just another passerby engrossed in his reading the paper. What is wrong with him?You halt, fixing your gaze directly on him. He lowers the paper just below his eyes but quickly brings it back up to cover his face once he realizes you’re staring. Is he seriously going to act like he didn’t notice we can see him? “Let’s just go. Where do you want to go?” you ask, breaking the awkward tension. Amaimon takes your hand and declares loudly enough for Katashi to overhear, “She’s my girlfriend now.” He speaks loud enough for Katashi to catch before dragging you away. You had forgotten the girlfriend/boyfriend comments from Katashi last week.
With the teenagers out of sight, Katashi slowly lowers the newspaper with a sour expression on his face. “She’s my girlfriend now.” He mocks aloud with a scoff. “I can’t believe Yume is okay with this. _____ can do better. He’s a creep.”
A dark-haired man sitting on the other side of the bench turns to Katashi. “I don’t know, Katashi; if Yume and her husband are okay with it, why are you so obsessed? You’re the one who sounds like the creep.” Katashi bristles, rolling up the newspaper and using it to slap the man’s shoulder. “I’m telling you, there’s something off about him!”
“They’re teenagers. Stop being so weirdly obsessed over your teenage niece’s love interest.”
Katashi’s green eyes narrow at the brown-eyed man. “Oh, shut up, Ito,” he snaps. The man raises a brow in response. “You know what, Aoki? I hope they get married.” Amused, he watches as Katashi’s eyes widen in horror. “Why would you say something like that?!” Katashi exclaims. The man nods, a smirk creeping onto his face. “Married, have kids, and then you’ll have to pretend to like him just to see the children." As Katashi’s face flushes with anger, the man continues, "Just imagine it: New Year’s dinner with the whole family, and there’s your niece with that guy and their kids sitting across the table from you. You’d have to smile and act like you like him so the kids feel comfortable the whole time.” Furious, Katashi raises the newspaper above his head, hitting the man multiple times. “Don’t jinx her!” he shouts. The man laughs, trying to shield himself. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” With that apology, Katashi backs off, and the two fall into a tense silence.
“How many kids do you think they’ll have?” the man asks, breaking the quiet.
“I hate you, Ito.”
Notes:
I feel like writing the amusement park scene might've been a bit odd. With MC being normal all she could really do is watch and I didn't want to write the scene word for word for episode 12. I think sometimes it can feel kind of weird reading it word for word with a scene.
I don't know why AO3 doesn't update the publication date itself. I accidentally forgot with the last chapter, and it shows my last update was May 1st. 🙃
Thank you for all the comments and kudos. As I've mentioned before it really helps with motivation. This is my first multichapter fic, a lot of firsts for me with this fic, so I often feel unsure, and the support has helped a ton with that. <3
Chapter 16: Chapter 16
Summary:
Updated December 19
Notes:
It's August 10th, is AO3 telling me I'm trying to post it in the future? This was written during my 33-hour trip across the world. 😩
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
For the past thirty minutes, your phone has been constantly buzzing and lighting up with missed calls, videos, and text messages from your worried mother.
Mom: Are you okay?
Mom: Please answer me so I know you’re okay.
You steal a glance at Amaimon as he lounges on the sofa across from you. After lunch, he pulled you into the living room of his brother’s house. “Amaimon, she knows.” Of course she knows; it must have been reported right away. But how much does she know? Ignoring her calls and texts has likely sent her mind racing with all sorts of scenarios regarding your safety. You really need to respond and reassure her that you’re okay. However, you don’t trust your ability to lie if she asks too many questions about something as serious as this. “Knows what?”
“I don’t know; that’s the issue. What if Rin, Yukio, or that woman let it slip you kissed me? It’s bad enough that she’s aware you’re here, but if she finds out about that kiss…” Your hands tremble as a flood of new messages lights up your lock screen. "She would definitely be in a panic if she knew about the kiss, right?" you mutter to yourself. Although, some might argue that receiving nearly a hundred messages in just half an hour might already indicate urgency. "Why did you have to kiss me in front of them?"
“Because I wanted to.”
In the middle of the spam your mother is sending, you catch a text from someone else.
Dad: Hey. Mom says she can’t get up with you. We’re coming tomorrow, could you please reply to her? I think her head is about to explode. 🤯
Tomorrow? They’re not supposed to come until next week. “Amaimon, they’re coming tomorrow. Why are they coming tomorrow?”
“I don’t know.”
If you keep ignoring her messages, she’s going to think Amaimon has kidnapped you or something. The next video call from her, you answer.
She looks disheveled, her hair in disarray and her eyes brimming with concern. "Are you okay?" she asks before you even have a chance to greet her. You swallow hard. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Her gaze seems to pierce right through you. You're thankful she's at a distance, at least for now. "____, Amaimon has been spotted. I need you to go to Katashi's apartment. Now." "For what?" A look of disbelief washes over her face. "For protection____. You will stay with Katashi tonight, and I'll arrive tomorrow. Don't worry; he has a guest."
"Mom, I've known him for less than two weeks. I should be fine staying in my dorm room just for tonight, right?" you say, a hint of panic in your voice. "____, this is serious. Your life is in danger. You need to go to Katashi. Now." Hearing your mother suggest you stay with someone else grabs Amaimon’s attention. He drops the manga he was holding and starts to approach you. "Mom, I'll be fine in the dorm. I’m staying here tonight," you reply, glancing at the clock. “It’s already getting late; I’m about to change into my pajamas. I’m not going to Katashi’s apartment.” A mixture of anger and fear laces her tone as she responds, "I cannot lose you. Why aren’t you taking this more seriously? Amaimon's power is far beyond anything you can handle."
It's challenging because she’s right. She’s terrified that a demon she believes wants to annihilate her entire family has been spotted. Naturally, she wants to ensure you’re in a safe place. You try to disregard Amaimon, who seems a bit agitated. “Mom, please. Just let me stay in my dorm for one night. I understand your concerns, but I can’t stay with Katashi. I don’t like him, and I can’t stand the rest of your family. It’s just one night. I’ll be fine.” You know this is painful for her to hear.
Outright telling her that you don’t like her brother in the middle of a situation like this. You take a deep breath. “I’m staying here. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you end the call; you’ll deal with her anger about you not taking this seriously tomorrow. Tomorrow.
“Amaimon, when she comes tomorrow, she won’t let me leave her side. I’ll have to stay with her until-“ Until what? Until they exorcise him? She won’t give you space until she knows you’re one hundred percent safe. This is going to be a nightmare.
The demon king approaches you, harshly gripping your jaw. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re mine. I will kill anyone who tries to take you from me.” Why does he have to speak so casually about killing my family? “Amaimon, look at it from their side. Imagine having a child and being in my mother’s shoes.” That example might not be the best. Do demons even care about their children? Most likely not.
“Children?”
Yeah, that was a bad example. “Or maybe-“
He releases you with a bored expression. "Do you want children?” His question catches you off guard. You’re trying to explain your mother's situation. How has it changed to whether or not you want children? “I guess? It doesn’t matter. I’m talking about my mom.” You check the constant stream of notifications on your phone. "Amaimon, she’s worried you might kill me.” You raise your phone to show him the messages. “If you have any way to keep me by your side, and nobody dies. That’d be great.”
Amaimon gives you a deadpan look. “As long as nobody dies?”
“Yes, at least not my parents and Katashi. I don’t care about Ema and Riko.” Even if you don’t like Katashi, you don’t hate him. He clearly loves you, though it’s overbearing. He just needs to love you while being meters away.
He grasps your jaw again, carefully turning your head side to side, examining you. “I suppose. You will be spending eternity with me after all.”
Unsure what he’s referring to, you return the conversation to the matter at hand. “Even with Mom and Katashi trying to kill, please don’t kill them.” When he nods, you pull away from him. “I don’t know what to do about when she comes tomorrow. Dad coming too might help. He’ll think it’s weird that Mom always wants me under her. Mom has never been a helicopter parent.”
Despite Amaimon agreeing not to kill anyone, you know he won’t be able to come up with a solution that won’t upset your family. How can I keep things civil tomorrow and for the rest of the visit?
The moment you’re in his room, he pulls you against himself. “Thousand-year-old demons are no different than teenage boys.” You complain, pushing him away. “Mom and Katashi are losing their minds.” You lift your phone to show him, now Katashi is also spamming you with messages. You don't even know the extent of their powers. Could Amaimon get hurt in all of this? You’ve just been thinking about your family. You know Amaimon is strong, but Rin is surprisingly strong, and he’s just started training as an exorcist. How strong are experienced exorcists?
Amaimon’s warm hands glide over your hips, tracing soft circles with his thumbs. While you struggle to figure out what to do, his gentle lips brush against yours. "They won't arrive until tomorrow," he murmurs, nuzzling your neck with his nose. Slowly, he backs you up until you bump against the bed. When you pull away, you look at the demon king and can't help but feel a twinge of irritation at the blank expression on his face. Memories of his excitement while fighting Rin flash in your mind, and you can't shake the feeling that he finds more entertainment in Rin than in you. With a heavy heart, you turn away, the negative emotions twisting inside you. -Stupid intrusive thoughts.
“_____.” Amaimon pokes your back, but you don’t respond; thoughts of your family and the fact that Amaimon hasn’t shown any emotion toward you as he did with Rin earlier today start to flood your mind. After a few more pokes, he gives up and shifts his focus elsewhere. You continue to keep your back to him as he slips off the bed.
“_____, why are you acting strange?” Amaimon asks from across the room, pulling out a stack of books. You look over your shoulder. “I’m not acting strange. I’m acting like most humans would in this situation.”
You hear him flipping through pages quickly, can he even read that fast? Or is he just looking at pictures. Curiosity gets the best of you. “Amaimon, what are you doing?”
"I'm trying to understand what’s wrong with you. Are all humans this complicated?" He flips through various books, ranging from manga to medical textbooks, in search of answers for his human’s peculiar behavior.
You sigh. “There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m just tired and stressed from the situation with my family. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” And now stupidly jealous of Rin.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” You sit up, surprised by how quickly he accepted your answer. Maybe, being a demon, he can’t go below the surface to something deeper? You attempt to come up with ideas of why he’s just accepted it so quickly.
“I’ll be back.”
Your hobgoblin appears as the door closes behind Amaimon. You stare at it confused. Why is it here? Did Amaimon summon him? No, that doesn’t make sense. How is he here? “What are you doing here? Where have you been?” You question the small demon at the foot of the bed. It stares up at you. “You’re not getting on the bed.” You climb towards the foot of the bed, flopping on your stomach while laying your head on your crossed arms. "I wonder where Amaimon went.” You reach down to pet the goblin’s head. It coos under your touch while nuzzling your palm. You allow yourself to be distracted by the demon, attempting to ignore the flood of negative emotions in your mind. “Should I name you? Amaimon calls his hobgoblin Behemoth, and Shiemi calls her familiar Nee.” The hobgoblin shows no signs of understanding or caring what you’re saying. “Katashi wasn’t happy that I summoned a hobgoblin. Maybe I should name you Tashi? No. He would be excited that I named something after him.” You roll your eyes at the thought; it would completely go over his head that it was meant as a jab.
Mephisto jolts up as his bedroom door swings open. “Amaimon, it’s nearly midnight. Why are you in my room?” He yawns as he sits up, with waifu pillows surrounding him. “My human. I don’t understand what’s wrong with her. She’s acting odd.”
The king of time blinks in confusion before chuckling to himself. “They’re such fascinating creatures," he remarks. Mephisto flashes a grin at his younger brother. “I don’t like it.” Amaimon, looking bored, replies, "Hmmm, interesting. I was curious how long she would hold your interest. Frankly, I didn’t expect it to last this long. Now, if you could kindly terminate the contract, I can proceed with my original plans for her,” Mephisto smirks.
“What?”
“You’re already bored with her and don’t like her anymore, so-“
“I didn’t say that. I said I don’t like it. I don’t like how she is acting. Fix it.”
“Amaimon, that’s not how humans work. Nothing will fix her. She’s an emotional teenager; even though she’s now a legal adult, she’s still figuring out who she is. On top of being eighteen, the family drama has been thrown at her along with her feelings for you. It’s a lot for a human to handle; it’s only been a couple of weeks. It’s amazing she hasn’t snapped yet. So, could you release her contract so I can continue with my original plan?" He lifts his arms dramatically as he speaks.
“No. She’s my human. I want her. I just want to know what’s wrong with her.” He tilts his head in confusion.
Mephisto sighs, leaning back onto his bed. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t know.”
“Did she say anything?”
“She’s just acting weird.”
“Let’s start with what ‘acting weird’ means.”
“I don’t know.”
Mephisto could slap the Earth king. “You have to know, that’s why you’re here. Have you tried asking her? Make sure to get more than just a one-sentence reply. If you don’t receive an answer, come back tomorrow morning, and I’ll see if I can help you. Now leave.” Amaimon opens his mouth, as if he might protest, but Mephisto shoots him a stern look. Amaimon quickly nods and exits the room. “It’s like dealing with a teenager sometimes. If Amaimon doesn’t sort out his feelings, I might just break the contract myself. This isn’t how I want to spend the next few years,” Mephisto mutters to himself.
"____.” Amaimon reappears in the room with an indifferent expression. "I couldn't find anything about it in the books, so I asked Big Brother,” As he speaks, you pull your hand away from the hobgoblin and sit up on the bed with your legs crossed. What is he talking about? "Asked what?" "About you." You give him a questioning look, but he doesn't elaborate, so you press for more information. "What did he say, Amaimon?"
"He said that if I'm already bored with you, then I should release you from our contract." Before you can even process those words, he continues, "He wants me to release you so he can give you to Rin." A brief flash of irritation crosses his face. "I told him that you're mine. I just want to understand what's wrong with you. He said I should ask."
He looks at you expectantly as if waiting for an answer to a question he hasn't even asked yet. "What's wrong with me? The last two weeks alone have been filled with enough drama and stress to last a lifetime; it's exhausting," you remind him.
“You’re lying.”
“Huh?”
“You’ve been stressed all week, yet that didn’t stop you from being intimate with me before.” Why does he have to phrase it like that? “Amaimon, I just found out my mom is coming tomorrow, so that's adding to my existing stress.” You respond dryly, eager to wrap up this conversation. Why can’t he just drop it? Stupid demon king. You direct your attention back to the nameless hobgoblin. He’s grunting at the foot of the bed, still seeking permission to climb up. “Just leave it alone; you’re bugging me like this. You'd think you actually liked me or something,” you joke half-heartedly. When Amaimon doesn't reply, you shift your gaze from the hobgoblin back to him. He seems like a deer caught in headlights, biting his thumbnail as he sits cross-legged on the ground. “That’s odd,” he comments.
You hold your breath to avoid laughing at his reaction. He’s not wrong, but the idea of him having feelings for you is odd. Your attention is pulled from him when your phone starts to vibrate. It’s already past midnight. Why is she calling so late? You frown as you pick up the phone, “Hello?”
“We just arrived. Are you sure you won’t come stay with us tonight?” your mother whispers. Your father must already be in bed. “Mom, do you know what time it is? I’m exhausted,” you complain. “Fine. Meet me first thing tomorrow morning.” She starts to give a location for the meeting, but you cut her off. “Okay, when you say first thing tomorrow, what exactly do you mean?” You really don’t want to wake up before nine. It’s the weekend.
“Sunrise.”
“I guess you and Dad can have a nice romantic sunrise breakfast for a few hours because I’m not waking up to meet you that early.” You mumble into the phone while lying back on the mattress. Exhaustion is catching up with you. “____.” She’s stern when she speaks your name. “There’s no way I’m waking up before nine. I’m exhausted. It’s already past midnight.” You argue.
You see Amaimon changing into some pajama bottoms from the corner of your eye. "Mom, let's meet at nine, okay? I'm sure you and Dad are exhausted, too, right? You can't protect me if you're exhausted." You play on her feelings of your safety. "I'll see you tomorrow." Amaimon tosses you a pair of pajamas, not bothering to change you with a snap as you end the call with your mother.
Once dressed and settled into bed, exhaustion starts to take over. Amaimon steps closer to the bed, tapping the top of your hobgoblin’s head and somehow making him disappear in a puff of smoke. Amaimon climbs on the bed, pulling you against his bare chest.
“Hey angel!” Your father grins brightly as you slowly approach him and your mother. Despite not wanting to wake up before nine, she had called you at seven, insisting to meet you in half an hour. Less than six hours of sleep on the weekend is awful. As soon as you’re within arm’s reach, your mother pulls you in, wrapping her arms around you tightly. Her fingers dig uncomfortably into your back as she holds you close.
“Honey, you’re hurting her. I know you missed her, but—” he says, tugging her away, which causes you to stumble back against Amaimon. “It’s a bit of a dramatic reaction. It’s only been two weeks.” He chuckles awkwardly, glancing between you, your mother, and then at Amaimon.
“Guess breakfast is going to be a double date, huh?”
Your eyes widen. “Oh! Right. Sorry. This is my friend Ambrosius.”
“I thought I was your boyfriend.”
You give him a look, but your father finds it hilarious. “He’s got a point; I also thought he was your boyfriend.” He grins at both of you. “Dad.” He raises his hands in mock defeat. “Sorry, ____. Anyway, I’m Yasu, and this is my wife, Yume. So, what are we having for breakfast?”
Like Amaimon, your father also has a sweet tooth, so the four of you find yourselves in a quaint shop that specializes in Western breakfast items. “I think serving waffles and pancakes for breakfast is a brilliant idea," Yasu remarks, lavishly dousing his waffle in strawberry sauce. “So, how are you enjoying school? It’s only been two weeks. I guess this visit was a surprise for both of us. I was having lunch when suddenly, Yume burst into the living room, insisting that I book the next available flight. She wasn’t thrilled about it being a late-night flight.” He cuts into his waffle as he continues to share his story.
You ignore Amaimon as he takes a piece of the pancake you just cut, turning your attention to your dad. “Do you know why you had to come here?"
"Initially, she wanted to come alone. She genuinely expected me to be fine with her visiting you without me.” He pouts at the thought.
As the two of you converse, Yume keeps her gaze fixed on Amaimon, feeling a wave of unease as she watches him reach for food from your plate. His blank expression is unsettling, especially when their eyes meet. He plucks a strawberry from your plate while continuing to stare at Yume. "_____." Her voice is laced with anxiety.
“Yes?”
“YUME!?”
All four of you turn toward the door; a dark-haired man gapes at Yume, his jaw dropped. “What are you doing here?"
Your mother lets out a sigh, shaking her head. “Good morning, Katashi.” The fool beams brightly as he dashes toward the table. “I’ve missed you! Seeing you in person, ____ looks just like you,” he exclaims. Amaimon interjects, “She resembles her father more.” It seems Katashi finally notices the other two at the table for the first time. He blinks in surprise and then scrutinizes your father. Dad has been married to Mom for twenty years; it really doesn’t matter if Katashi likes him or not. Your father raises an eyebrow at the judgment. “I’m Yasu, Yume’s husband. I believe you know my wife and daughter. Have you met Ambrosius?” He gestures toward Amaimon, ensuring everyone is introduced. At the mention of 'Ambrosius,’ Katashi’s expression darkens. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Katashi; Yume is my sister. Since you are ____’s father, I need to warn you. This boy is horrible, and ____ can do so much better.”
Yasu gives him a look of disbelief. “Yume, is your sister?”
Katashi froze, panic evident on his face. He knew Yasu was completely unaware. Yet, in a moment of foolishness, he had let it slip. His worry about your relationship with Ambrosius caused him to entirely overlook Yasu’s ignorance. “Oh, um, we grew up together, so she feels like a sister to me.” He lies.
“You’re a bad liar.” You comment while Amaimon nods in agreement.
Katashi frowns at you, just knowing it’s Ambrosius’ horrible influence on you making you call him out like that. “_____.” He whispers, looking like you’ve stabbed him through the chest.
You give a spiteful grin to your mother before turning towards your father. “Mom having a brother is nothing; wait until you hear the rest of it.”
Notes:
So, getting to MC's family about to find out the truth about Amaimon.
The next chapter will be out soon.
Also, I gotta say. If you're on a 10+ hour flight, and you lean your seat back all the way, you're an asshole. As I was typing this, the guy in front of me basically put his seat in my lap, and I couldn't hold the MacBook properly. I get leaning back a little, but I don't care if your seat goes that far down. Be respectful to those behind you. You can still lean back comfortably without having to be in the person's lap behind you. Buy a good travel pillow. It was even a window seat, lean against the window. I hate long flights.
Chapter 17: Chapter 17
Notes:
Thank you for all the support <3
Quick note. I've posted a story written by a child (seven years old). If you would go and just leave a nice comment on it, you don't even have to read it; just a positive comment would mean a lot to her. She's been so excited every time I read the comments to her, and she's kindly letting me know her story must be better than mine. There's more information about why a seven-year-old knows about fanfics if you look at the story. But just a positive comment would mean a lot to her.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Your mother’s eyes widen in disbelief. She knew she would have to come clean with Yasu eventually, especially since he would be tagging along this weekend. However, this was neither the time nor the place for that conversation.
“I’m sorry, Yasu. It’s just that I come from a toxic family, and I wanted to distance myself from it. It’s a long story that we should discuss in private.” She gives you an apprehensive glance. Your father gestures towards you. “Okay, and she knows?”
“It’s complicated. I promise we’ll discuss it later.” She maintains a serious expression, her tone reminiscent of a business conversation. Yasu glances at the onlookers around him. “That’s fine. So, does that mean I have a brother-in-law?” He beams at Katashi.
“I’ve always wanted a brother.” He effortlessly shifts the conversation to a lighter topic. You frown at his reaction; he’s always been carefree, yet there are no signs that he feels upset about your mother keeping such a significant secret from him. Frustration builds as you grit your teeth. You knew he wouldn’t get upset or make a scene, but he seems completely unfazed. Did he know all along? Perhaps they simply kept the truth from you? Your mother’s relief suggests otherwise.
Katashi stares, shocked by the reaction. “What?”
Yasu grins. “What do you mean, what? You don’t want to be friends? We’re brothers. Let’s get to know each other better. Sit down and join us for breakfast.” The booth comfortably accommodates only four people. “You came for breakfast, right? Sit down.” He gestures to the space beside you. “Look, you can sit next to ____.” Katashi’s brow twitches in annoyance as you move closer to Amaimon to make room for him. Now you’re practically on top of him. Despite his irritation, he still sits beside you, leaving just enough distance for you to slide back toward him without crowding Amaimon. He frowns when you don’t make the move.
Walking through town with them feels awkward. Your mom attempted to stay close to you, but your father pulled her away towards himself, remarking on how peculiar she was behaving. Unfortunately, she quietly instructed Katashi to take her place, remaining close enough for him to protect you if anything were to happen.
“How did the two of you meet?” Katashi questions Yasu. He knew Yume married and had a child, but that’s all the information he was given. “Oh, I was lost, and she helped me.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, it was weird. I got lost one day, and she found me.”
Katashi stares at Yasu in disbelief. Is he serious? “How did you get lost?”
“I don’t know.”
“What?”
You can't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Katashi. Your father’s ambiguous responses are beginning to irritate you, even though you already know the tale of how they met. "Yasu," your mother interjects, shaking her head.
He grins. “What? You did find me, and I don’t know how I got lost.”
Yume sighs. “Yasu lost his memory. He doesn’t remember anything from before I found him, which is why he has our family name.” Katashi stares, confused “What?”
“It’s a long story.” Yume isn’t in the mood for this.
Yasu tilts his head in confusion. “How is it a long story? You just told him the story. I was lost, and you found me.” Yume narrows her eyes. “Stop talking.”
“Sorry.”
Amaimon tugs you towards him. “I’m bored ___.”
Katashi snapped his head toward Amaimon, completely forgetting the odd conversation about how his sister met Yasu. "See? He’s rude," he glares. “You’re meeting her parents for the first time, and you’re already complaining about being bored?” He turns to Yasu and Yume, eager to see their reactions to the truth: Ambrosius is a rude kid, and Katashi is not just being dramatic. Yasu nods. “Yeah, it is a bit rude,” Katashi smirks as Yasu agrees. “But honestly, it is kind of boring. I don’t think he meant for everyone to hear that; he was just speaking to _____. We’ve kind of ignored the two of them for the last few minutes anyway." He crafts an excuse for Amaimon’s rudeness. “So, let’s do something fun.”
Something fun ends up being a souvenir shop. Amaimon grabs your hand. “I want candy.” He drags you towards the back of the shop, which has an array of different Asian and Western candies.
"Look at this," your father calls from across the store as he holds up a couple of keychains. "It says 'best friends.' Since Katashi is my new best friend, he can have this half." Katashi turns with a look of disbelief on his face. "You want to be best friends?"
Humor fills your dad’s expression as he nods. "Sure, just try to be a better friend than my last, yeah?" He tosses one of the keychains towards Katashi. Yume sighs as Katashi’s eyes light up. You shake your head. "Dad, stop being weird. He thinks you’re serious."
"Aww, angel, I am serious," your father insists.
You watch as Katashi dumbly believes your father. One thing about Yasu Aoki is he doesn’t make friends; he doesn’t even like people. Your father is just an amazing actor.
“Big brother.” You turn your attention to see Amaimon on the phone. “Okay.” He ends the call giving no hint of what Mephisto had said. “Let’s go.” While your parents and Katashi are distracted, Amaimon pushes you out of the shop.
Yume shakes her head in disapproval as Yasu continues to toy with Katashi's emotions. "We should head back to the hotel," she suggests, glancing around the small shop. Suddenly, her expression shifts to one of panic as she realizes that you are nowhere to be found. Frantically, she searches the shop for you and then turns to the owner, demanding loudly, "Did you see my daughter leave? Where is she?" while slamming her hands on the counter.
“Yume? What are you doing?” Yasu places the items on a shelf as he heads towards his wife. “What is wrong with you?”
Ignoring him, Yume continues to demand answers from the owner, who fearfully backs against the wall. "Which way did they go?!" she shouts, desperate for any information.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am, I wasn't paying attention," the owner confesses nervously.
Yume's anxiety grows; no one knows where you and Ambrosius have gone.
Realizing she won’t be getting answers from the man, Yume rushes out the door. Yasu and Katashi quickly follow. “Yume, what is wrong?”
Yume snaps. “I told her she has to stay by me. I told her. Why would she leave? She knows she’s in danger. What is wrong with her? She’s never been so stubborn. This isn’t a fucking joke. He will kill her.”
“Stop, Yume, you need to calm down. Breathe.” Yasu grasps her shoulders, attempting to ground his wife. “Who will kill her? You aren’t making any sense. Let’s call her, okay? I’m sure she’s fine.” He turns to Katashi for support, but Katashi looks just as panicked as Yume.
“Where are we?” You question as Amaimon shoves you through a door. “Big brother was angry the amusement park was wrecked. He told me next time it has to be somewhere else.” Other than the worn-down shack that you two entered from. There’s nothing around you besides some trees. A bit in the distance, you can see a denser forest, but that’s it. “Is Rin here or something?” Maybe Mephisto decided to allow Amaimon to play with Rin if they were far away from everything else. But why are you here?
“No.”
“Is somebody else here?”
“Not yet.”
“Who is coming?”
“The Aokis.”
Yasu frowns at the ground, “I can’t believe everyone abandoned me. This is ridiculous.” He grumbles. Yume received a call that left her even more panicked; she yelled at Yasu to go back to the hotel before she and Katashi disappeared. His attention turns towards the academy. “I suppose I can take this time to speak to Johann Faust V.” He scoffs as he walks towards where the headmaster would be.
When Yasu arrives at the headmaster’s office, the grand doors fly open, revealing a figure rising from a luxurious chair. "Welcome," Mephisto greets, extending his hands with enthusiasm. "It's delightful to have you here. Please, take a seat. Would you care for some tea?" A tea set materializes beside Mephisto. "How do you prefer your tea? With cream or sugar, perhaps?" Yasu steps into the room but doesn’t move to sit down or accept tea. Mephisto gives a devilish grin at Yasu’s lack of reaction. “I have to say, I was surprised when I found out your daughter would be enrolled in my school. You did well keeping her and yourself hidden.” He praises.
When Yasu doesn’t answer, Mephisto continues. “So, how did you meet Yume? I never imagined you with a human. Then again, father also surprised me.”
“Keep them away from my child. That crazy bitch admitted she’d be willing to sacrifice ____ to Amaimon.” Yasu frowns. Katashi had called yesterday, warning Yume that Ema had told another exorcist her willingness to sacrifice ____ if it came down to it.
Leaning back into his chair, Mephisto waves the comment off. “Until recently, Amaimon wasn’t even aware of who the Aokis were. He doesn’t care about killing any of them. Odd you’re so upset; you know she’ll be fine.”
“It’s odd I’m upset that someone is casually speaking of sacrificing my child? I know she won’t be harmed. The bitch doesn’t know that, though.” Yasu glares.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you this angry before. While I understand you’re upset, there is something much more serious we need to speak about. ____ will be fine. Amaimon isn’t going to harm her. I need to speak to you about the upcoming war.” Before Yasu can say anything, Mephisto continues. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan nor want her to be in this war. She’d need intense training she can only get from you, and I’m more than aware you won’t even humor that idea.” Mephisto sighs, “I need you for this war, and your biggest priority is to keep her hidden and safe. Which will happen, we just need you on our side for what is coming. We both know she’ll be in danger if the war is lost.”
Yasu shakes his head. “You will be in danger if you turn against Satan. I am taking no side; he won’t harm me or my family.” Yasu speaks knowing what he says is true. As long as he stays neutral, Satan won’t touch his family.
Mephisto shakes his head while dramatically sighing. “You know, my original plan was for _____ to meet Rin; she’s a beautiful, kind girl. Rin would’ve fallen hard and could’ve won her over.” Mephisto smirks as he starts to share the plan. “I was so sure my younger brother could win her over, and then she’d want to stay and be with him, so you’d have no choice but to stay.”
Yasu shrugs, “Yet that didn’t happen. She met Ambrosius instead.” Yasu isn’t bothered by her current first ‘love’. It’s something she’ll get over after months of them being separated, even if there are promises of forever. That’s how teens and first loves are.
Mephisto’s smirk widens. “You’re right.” He nods in agreement. “My original plan was replaced with something so much better. Rin wasn’t a one hundred percent guarantee, with him being a teenage boy. But then she met Ambrosius, unaware of how forbidden he would be to her. Her mother’s family’s whole reason for living is to kill him.”
The demon king waits for the implication to catch up to Yasu, as expected; it takes mere seconds. “He’s Amaimon.” Yasu snaps.
Mephisto gives a nasty grin. “Yes, and he’s not going to accept you taking her from him.”
Disgust fills Yasu at the idea of his perfect daughter being with that demon.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that! Would you have rather it been me?” Mephisto’s joke isn’t funny to Yasu. “If you-“
“Haha! Don’t worry. She’s not my type.” Mephisto jokes. “But, honestly, the two of them have been attached since her first day of school here. Then she accepted it when she learned he was a demon- though part of that might’ve been because she made a contract with him unknowingly.”
“Contract?”
“Yes, I was surprised too. Apparently, she offered her soul to him.”
“A contract is pointless when someone more powerful can have it broken.”
Mephisto nods. “Yes, that is true. But don’t you want her to fall in love? We both know there are only three options for her.” He lifts a finger for each option. “One – a human. Two – an angel. Three – a demon. A human would be sad, falling in love with someone who’ll die before she’s even lived a fraction of her life. An angel- well, you know firsthand how they are. Or a demon who will match her lifespan.” Mephisto sighs, “You say he’s not worthy of her, but will anyone be worthy enough to be with her in your eyes? He’s a demon king.”
When Yasu doesn’t respond, Mephisto shakes his head. “Cassian, you should trust your best friend’s son.”
“No. Why is my family coming here? Which ones?” Panic starts to consume you as you stare at him. If your mother comes, how will you explain why you’re with him? Amaimon shrugs. “Big brother said it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, and he’s already sick of them since I made an appearance.”
“Why am I here?”
“So nobody will take you from me.” As he gives the lame explanation, the door to the shack across from you starts to open. Tension fills you as you expect to see the four Aokis and possibly others appear. Would Amaimon be able to easily defend himself against that many exorcists? You still have no idea how strong exorcists truly are; Rin has been your only experience with exorcists’ strength.
You’re surprised to see it’s only your mother and Katashi who appear through the doorway. Both are armed with guns.
“_____.” Yume swallows hard as she sees you standing close to Amaimon. She keeps her voice steady, hoping if she doesn’t show too much emotion towards you, he won’t harm you. “Why is she here?”
Amaimon moves to wrap his arms around your shoulders from behind. Both Yume and Katashi tense, having the same thought: he’s using her as a shield.
Katashi steps forward, angling his weapon so it’s not pointed towards you. "Let her go," he speaks casually like he’s unbothered by the situation. "She has nothing to do with the Aoki family. She's just in the way." When Amaimon doesn’t show any signs of moving, Katashi’s mask starts to crack. "I'm the head of the Aoki family; let her go. She's not part of our clan." He clenches his jaw as he realizes Amaimon is ignoring him, and instead, the demon’s attention is completely focused on you. It’s like Katashi and Yume aren’t even there. "Let her go, and I won’t fight back," Katashi glances back towards his sister. "Neither of us will.”
You’re frozen in Amaimon’s arms. It must look like you’re terrified of Amaimon to your mother and uncle, but no. You’re terrified of them and their reaction because you just know Amaimon isn’t going to keep your secret a secret much longer.
“Why would I let her go?”
“You want revenge over the Aoki clan, right? _____ has nothing to do with the clan. I am the head of the clan. You want to wipe us out, so go ahead. But ____ isn’t part of the clan.” Despite the frustration he feels, he’s able to keep his tone steady.
Amaimon cocks his head to the side, his expression curious. "Revenge? Revenge for what? I didn't even know the Aoki clan existed until I met ____," he confesses. "Your clan means nothing to me." Amaimon's tone is dismissive as he tightens his grip around you, his eyes unwaveringly fixed on your face.
Yume and Katashi exchange a look of confusion, their guns still poised and ready, but uncertainty flickers in their expressions. It's clear they're unsure of how to proceed. Katashi takes a step forward, lowering his weapon. "Then what do you want?" His voice is laced with caution, unsure of what the Demon King's intentions are. Yume watches on, her hand trembling slightly as she tries to gauge the situation.
Amaimon's lips twitch into a slight smirk, his playfulness slipping into his demeanor. "I want ____.”
“If you touch my daughter, I will kill you.” Yume snarls, causing Amaimon to drop his arms to his sides, though he still stands behind you. “I’ve already touched her, though.” He mumbles while poking your shoulder.
The action sticks out to him. Ambrosius always pokes her like that. Katashi stands in shock, his jaw-dropping and eyes widening as the realization hits him. "I TOLD YOU!" he exclaims, frustration evident in his voice. "NOBODY BELIEVED ME WHEN I SAID SOMETHING WAS WRONG WITH AMBROSIUS. THIS WHOLE TIME, AMBROSIUS WAS AMAIMON.”
Notes:
In the next chapter, Katashi's head might explode lmao
Thanks for all the support, comments, and kudos. It's nice to know what you think, and it really helps with motivation, knowing people like it.
Chapter 18: Chapter 18
Notes:
So apparently, I had a dream or something about Blue Exorcist that has affected my storyline lmao more details in the end note to avoid spoilers for the story here.
Thanks for the support.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"NOBODY BELIEVED ME WHEN I SAID SOMETHING WAS WRONG WITH AMBROSIUS. THIS WHOLE TIME, AMBROSIUS WAS AMAIMON.”
Katashi grasps handfuls of his hair, looking like he might rip it out. “I TOLD YOU! I TOLD EVERYONE, AND THEY ALL THOUGHT I WAS BEING DRAMATIC AND WEIRD.” His eyes are wide as he screeches. “But I didn’t realize it was this bad. This is so much worse than I had imagined. ____! Why didn’t you listen to me? KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF HER YOU BASTARD!” As he screams, he raises his gun, eyes locked on the demon behind you.
You’re not the only one to notice. Your mother’s horror turns from Amaimon to Katashi. “What are you doing? You’re aiming the gun at ____.” With her attention on Katashi, she misses how Amaimon shoves you behind him as he summons Behemoth. “Kill him.” Having the gun aimed in your direction by your uncle leaves you terrified, so terrified that the fact Amaimon has ordered Behemoth to kill him, despite having promised he wouldn’t harm Katashi, completely goes over your head until the demon lunges at Katashi.
“Wait!”
Katashi shoots, but it doesn’t seem to have any effect on Behemoth as he continues forward.
A puff of pink smoke between Behemoth and your uncle stops the attack; as it clears, Mephisto and your father are standing there. “Now, now. No need to fight.” Mephisto chuckles. “Brother, move. I want to kill him.” Amaimon complains childishly, sidestepping to set his eyes on Katashi. “No. I told you, no killing.”
“But he aimed his weapon at my human,” Amaimon states with a straight face.
“I DID NOT!” Katashi snarls at the demon king, disgusted he’d make such a claim. “I WAS AIMING IT AT YOU! AND SHE’S NOT YOURS!”
Amaimon steps behind you, pulling you against him. “How were you aiming at me when we were standing like this?” Despite his voice being level, there’s a dark tone behind it.
Yume snaps out of her daze, quickly turning towards Katashi. “You would’ve shot her! What is wrong with you? You said you wouldn’t be like the other two, yet you aimed your weapon at my daughter.” She hisses. Katashi had promised you were a priority, that he’d keep you safe. He would never be willing to sacrifice you like her mother and sister would. “You’re just as horrible as they are.”
Katashi drops the gun, shaking his head. “No. No. I wouldn’t have. I wasn’t aiming at her!” His hands start to shake as the scene replays in his mind. He had his sight on Amaimon the whole time. He wouldn’t have shot you. He was aiming at Amaimon! “I wouldn’t. I love her. I love both of you.” The idea that they believe he would’ve harmed you leaves him sick to his stomach. Even Amaimon had believed Katashi was going to harm you. “I wasn’t going to hurt her.” He repeats multiple times.
You turn your attention towards your father; you aren’t even sure your mother has noticed him yet, with her attention so focused on the fact that Katashi had raised a gun towards you. Despite being pulled into this chaotic situation, Yasu’s expression remains devoid of emotion. Witnessing his lack of reaction despite the surrounding chaos leaves you just as shocked that Katashi had raised a gun towards you. Is he okay?
You manage to slip out of Amaimon’s grasp and hurriedly make your way towards your father. As you reach him, you wrap your arms tightly around his waist. "Dad-" He wordlessly envelops you in a tight embrace, his unreadable expression fixed on the scene before him.
Mephisto's booming voice interrupts the heated argument between the siblings. "Let's not fight anymore," he says, capturing their attention. "I highly doubt Katashi would have pulled the trigger if it meant risking _____'s life. He's one of our top exorcists and wouldn't take such a risk." Mephisto tries to calm your mother down. "But we have more important matters to discuss." From the corner of his eye, he watches as Amaimon steps closer to you and your father with the intention of taking you back. “Amaimon, stop. You don’t want to do that when he hasn’t accepted you yet."
He tilts his head in confusion. "Accept me? I don’t care-"
“Trust me. You do.”
Amaimon looks displeased but listens for now. With Amaimon under control, Mephisto’s attention turns back to the siblings. "Okay, let me think...maybe we should begin with a humorous story about your family." He strokes his goatee as he ponders. "Humorous?" Yume and Katashi exchange a wary glance at Mephisto's suggestion. “Let’s see,” Yume and Katashi give Mephisto a guarded look. “Amaimon.”
“Yes?”
A dark grin crosses the purple-haired demon’s face. “When was the last time you were in Assiah?”
He blinks in confusion. “I don’t remember.”
Mephisto's grin widens, looking more demonic by the second. “It was well over two thousand years, right?”
“Yes.”
Mephisto makes eye contact with Katashi as he asks the next question. “Had you heard of the Aoki clan before you met _____?”
“No.”
Katashi scoffs at the demon king. "You're not fooling anyone; our clan leader almost exorcised you before. And now, you want revenge by wiping out our entire clan. Mephisto is just trying to help you get us to drop our guard." Amaimon simply shakes his head, further infuriating Katashi. "You're a demon; lying comes naturally to you. We know that you're afraid of facing both of us at once." Katashi gestures between himself and Yume. You turn your head to eye your uncle. Are they really strong enough to defeat Amaimon? Your concern for Amaimon is tamed as he responds to Katashi.
Amaimon sighs. “This is boring. I don’t care about your silly story.” He’s not worried about their power. You almost sigh in relief. He’s not making a show of him concerned; he is genuinely bored.
Yume’s attention turns to you, replaying everything in her mind. Since they arrived, the only time you looked fearful was when Katashi aimed the gun at you. Even when the demon held you in his arms, you stood unbothered. Cautiously, she questions you. “_____, did you know?” Yume starts to feel sick to her stomach. All this time, you had been so against the idea of being an exorcist. Is it because of Amaimon? Because you knew who he really was from the beginning? She waits for your answer anxiously.
She already knows the answer; you can hear it in her tone, so you refuse to speak, opting instead to bury your face in your father’s chest. For the first time, it seems she has truly noticed her husband. “Yasu, why are you here?” She had been so focused on Katashi raising a gun towards you that she hadn’t realized her husband had appeared with Mephisto. Guilt and annoyance wash over her face—annoyance that Mephisto dragged her husband into this and guilt that this is how he had to learn the truth. “Did he tell you?” she asks, nodding towards Mephisto. Yasu shakes his head but says nothing more. His calm demeanor leaves Yume wondering just how much he knows, confusion crossing her face. He knows about this world. “Were you an exorcist? Or did you know any exorcists?” Yume inquires; perhaps he had also fled from this life, and they had unknowingly kept this secret from each other. “No.” Yume looks uneasy. “But you were aware of exorcists and demons?” she questions carefully. “Yes.” Her brow furrows. “So, how do you know about them?”
His attention turns away from his wife, not caring to have this conversation with others around. Instead, he turns to the Earth King, watching as his fingers twitch anxiously. It’s clear he wants to pull you from him. “What do you want with _____? You’d think a demon king would have better things to do than bother a high school student.”
Amaimon sighs, tired of repeating himself to everyone. “She’s mine. I own her soul.” Mephisto grimaces at his younger brother’s words. That idiot.
Yasu shakes his head. “A demon king obsessed with a human girl? You look like an idiot, someone with your power obsessed with a weak human’s soul.” Despite his mocking words, his grip on your shoulders tightens uncomfortably. Yasu turns to Mephisto. “He only wants to own her soul. There is nothing to accept.” He speaks, hinting at their previous conversation. “He can find another human to obsess over. I’m sure there are more interesting ones than _____.” He pats your head, a quick apology for the insult.
Mephisto shoots Amaimon a nasty look. “Yasu, you must forgive him. He’s painfully unaware of his own emotions; they are new to him after all.”
Yasu stares at Amaimon, his eyes burning into the demon, picking him apart. Yasu isn’t stupid, but the demon before him is. So, he chooses to ignore it. “I hate demons. Let’s go.” He pulls a key from his pocket while gently guiding you towards the small shack. “Yume. We’re leaving. You can leave Katashi here for Amaimon to kill. I’m sure Amaimon is itching to kill him after he raised his gun towards _____. Demons are annoyingly possessive creatures.” He speaks calmly as he shoves a key into the worn-down door. “I won’t tell you to leave my family alone again.” He glances at Mephisto before gently shoving you through the door while pulling Yume by the wrist.
The door slams behind them, leaving Katashi alone with the two demon kings. He takes a defensive stance. Though neither is focused on him, Mephisto starts scolding Amaimon. “You idiot! Why did you say that? You don’t say something like that to a parent. Imagine you have a child, and their partner tells you that they just own your child’s soul. Amaimon, you’re smarter than that.”
“But I do own her soul.”
“Oh? And what do you plan to do with her soul?”
He doesn’t answer.
Mephisto rubs the bridge of his nose in irritation. “Really? You get jealous over her having friends.” Mephisto gives Amaimon a pointed look. However, when the younger demon doesn’t reply, Mephisto dramatically rolls his eyes. “Your behavior when Rin is around goes beyond possessiveness over her soul." Still nothing.
“I swear, Amaimon. Yasu is right; you are an idiot.” He grumbles before leaning down to face the demon eye to eye, speaking words for only Amaimon to hear.
Amaimon’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh.”
You’re shocked when you stumble into your house. To your left, you see your living room. The doorway leads to your home, how? How did Dad even get one of those magical keys? “We are leaving this damn country.” Yasu snaps behind you. Gently, he moves you aside so he can head towards his bedroom. “Damn it, I liked Japan. Why did that damned king of time have to be here?” He angrily complains as he pulls a luggage set from the closet. “I don’t care about his war.”
Your mother's face mirrors your own shock and disbelief as she looks at her husband. But then she turns to you, noticing how shaken you are. Despite her own distress, her parental instincts kick in, and she reaches out to comfort you. "It's going to be okay," she whispers as she pulls you into a hug. Her hands gently rub your back, trying to soothe you. "Go to your room and we’ll talk when things have calmed down. It seems all three of us need some answers and no more secrets." She guides you towards your bedroom.
Your phone vibrates. Where are you? You glance up to see your mother has shut the door behind her.
At my house.
Where is your house?
The text throws you off; for some reason, you had thought he could track you. He always seems to pop up out of nowhere. Maybe it only works within a specific range? You’re across the country from him now.
You can’t ask your brother?
You know he won’t be happy with that answer, but you aren’t in the mood to text him with everything going on. Despite your mother’s words, you have a feeling your father won’t be sharing the whole truth. Half an hour passes and your thoughts are stuck on the interaction between your father, Amaimon, and Mephisto. He seems to have experience with both demons and exorcists. Is there another thing like exorcists out there? Something else that fights demons in other ways? Or maybe a cult obsessed with demons he escaped because he doesn’t like them? There’s no telling.
When your bedroom door opens, you square your shoulders, ready to press for answers. It was bad enough that your mother had lied all these years, but now your father, too?
But it’s not your parents. In the doorway is Amaimon; behind him, you can see his bedroom. He takes a step to the side while looking at you, expectedly. Your brow furrows, he expects you to get up and leave with him in the middle of this drama? Your dad is talking about moving to another country. You need answers from him. When you don’t move, Amaimon tilts his head. “You don’t want to come with me?”
You bite your lower lip. “I do, but I need answers from my father. Mom hid secrets, and now Dad. He mentioned leaving Japan. It doesn’t make sense; I don’t know if he’s just being dramatic or not. We don’t even have the money to move to another country. That’d also include visas and residence permits. You can’t just hop up and move to a random country.” The more you ramble, the more ridiculous it sounds. There’s no way he’s serious. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You don’t know what to do? You’ve already made your choice. You chose me.”
The contract flashes through your mind. Right, I chose him from the beginning. You don’t bother thinking about it anymore. Even without the contract, you’d probably follow him.
“He didn’t tell you anything?” Amaimon questions as he closes the door behind him. “No, and I don’t think he’s going to be completely honest with Mom either.” You admit. Katashi pops into your mind. “Is Katashi okay?” Your father giving Amaimon the okay to kill him was shocking. With Katashi’s horror at them accusing him of aiming his gun at you, you know you weren’t his target. Still, it was a stupid thing to do. Maybe exorcists are trained to aim at demons even if there is a human hostage? “I don’t know.” Amaimon pulls your back against his chest as he answers. “Did you fight him?” His chin drops to your left shoulder. “No.”
“Big brother told me what your father is.” He whispers in your ear.
“What?” He loosens his grip, allowing you to turn and face him. “What do you mean? Was he an exorcist or something? Or maybe with some group that supports demons?” You question.
“He’s Father’s best friend.”
You blink twice; despite hearing those words, you’re having trouble comprehending it. “Best friend? Your father’s best friend? Your father, Satan?” Amaimon nods. “That doesn’t make sense. How would he be Satan’s best friend? Wouldn’t he have to be a demon? Is my dad a demon?!”
“No.” Amaimon grasps your face in his hands, forcing you to look him in the eye. “I’ve only heard Father speak of his best friend once.” He admits. “Father still considers him his best friend.”
“Amaimon. What is my dad?”
“Yasu Aoku.” He tilts his head, watching you carefully. “His real name is Cassian.”
“What-“
“He’s an angel.”
Angel? Your brow furrows. There’s no way. Aren’t angels holy beings who take care of humans or something? Your dad doesn’t even like humans. That makes no sense unless...."Is he a fallen angel?" How common are fallen angels? Amaimon shakes his head. No. You know even less about angels than you know about demons. “But I’m human.” You pull away from Amaimon, eyes wide. “Wait, was I adopted?” That can’t be. I look just like him. You bring a strand of hair to your eyes. It’s the same color as your father’s. Your eyes and skin tone also match his perfectly.
“You’re a Nephilim.”
You shake your head. “So, then, Dad isn’t an angel. Because a Nephilim is born of a demon and human.” That is one thing you have come across before: you were curious about Rin.
“Nephilim is also a word for someone born of an angel and human. Though they’re rare, it’s not allowed. If other angels had known, you would’ve been killed at birth. Though I suppose you’re still at risk if you encounter another angel.” He speaks calmly, seemingly unfazed by the thought of an angel potentially ending your life. Your fear turns to anger. "I'm glad it doesn't bother you that some asshole angel could kill me."
You take a deep breath to calm yourself down. Right, _____, you idiot. Getting mad at him won't solve anything. It's not his fault. "Sorry," you start to say, but he interrupts by leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours. The unexpectedness of it throws you off balance, causing you to stumble backward until you hit the soft bed behind you. He follows quickly, never breaking the kiss as he takes control. As he pulls away for a moment, you look up at him with wide eyes, still trying to make sense of what just happened. And then he speaks in a low growl. "Do you think I’d let them touch what’s mine?”
Demons are annoyingly possessive creatures. Your father’s words ring through your mind. You almost want to laugh; he’s so possessive he’d even fight angels to keep you. Are angels strong? “Amaimon, what’s your limit?”
“What?”
“Your possessiveness. It’s weird to me that you’d bother fighting angels to keep me. Unless angels are really weak. I’m just curious: what's the limit that’ll leave you not bothering me with? Another demon? Another demon king? It’s odd. Demons are odd.” Your mind goes to your favorite stuffed animal. How far would you go to protect it?
Amaimon’s eyes burn into yours; you can see him turning the question in his mind. What is the extent of his interest before he no longer bothers, before his desire to possess fades away? He exhales. “It seems brother is right.”
Notes:
I swear I read on the Blue Exorcist Wiki about Satan being an angel before and the major angels like Michael. It said Amaimon referred to angels as winged assholes or something. Did Melatonin just give me a scarily realistic dream that I can REMEMBER? I always dream with melatonin but never remember it. Anyway, if it was a dream (I can't fucking find it), I don't care. I'm still going with this, lmao. I swear there was a line with Amaimon insulting the angels that stood out. I'm so confused. 💀😂
Anyway, thanks for the support <3
Please comment and tell me if I'm crazy or not. I swear I remember reading it all on the wiki page. T_T
Chapter 19: Chapter 19
Notes:
This chapter was going to be a lot more serious, but then I thought MC needs a break or her mind might break.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
He doesn’t elaborate so you allow your mind to go back to the fact your father is an angel. Your mind is running too fast, so many questions flipping back between your father’s secrets and Amaimon’s possessive words. Maybe your father and Amaimon are wrong; maybe angels won’t kill you just because you exist. The Aoki family was convinced that Amaimon wanted to wipe them out, and they had been wrong all along. No, that’s stupid. If Dad is really an angel, he’d know enough to know whether I’m in danger. You grimace at the idea. Replaying the conversation over and over. Trying to pull out important details that need answers to. “Amaimon, do you know anything besides my dad being an angel?” Wait, could he be wrong about Dad being an angel? He said Mephisto told him, so he didn’t get the information directly from your father. He shakes his head no.
Amaimon hadn’t cared enough to learn more information. He had been so irritated with the fact you were taken from him that he didn’t care enough to gather more information. He nuzzles into your neck as you absentmindedly run your hand through his hair. Maybe he’s wrong. “I need to ask him. Because it doesn’t make sense, tell me more. If Dad is an angel, I want to know more.” Amaimon hums at your request. “I’ve only heard Father mention it once. You should ask Big Brother.” He gently bites your shoulder as he answers. “Get off me so I can ask him.”
“No.” He childishly replies.
“Are you lying to me about my dad?”
“What reason do I have to lie?”
You sigh; he’s telling what he believes to be the truth. "I really hope you're wrong," you admit. The thought of being a creature that angels want to kill for such a ridiculous reason is horrifying. It would be one thing if you were causing chaos, but just existing shouldn't warrant death. Why would they only target hybrids with angel blood and not hybrids with demon blood? “If you’re right, I hate angels,” you grumble while trying to push the demon king off of you. It's like trying to move a solid slab of stone.
You lie on the bed, feeling overwhelmed. "This is really too much," you sigh. "I wish I could just disappear from all this drama for like a week." You admit, draping your arm over your face. "I've never been so stressed before; I need a vacation," you half-joke. Just hiding in Amaimon's room for a week would be enough. As you speak, Amaimon rolls to your right, his right leg wrapped around yours. "Vacation?" he questions, his mind going to a movie he had watched recently about a group of friends taking a trip to the beach. "I just want a break. This isn't good for my mental health. Obviously, I want answers, but my mind should probably be in a stable state before that happens," you admit, aware of your limits.
Amaimon's sharp claws gently graze the bare skin just above your jeans, where your shirt had slightly lifted when he moved away. His eyes conceal his thoughts, but you sense a hint of desire as if he wouldn't mind keeping you to himself for a week in his room. "Do you like the beach?" he questions. You blink in confusion, trying to decipher why he’d ask. "I guess, why?" "You said you need a vacation. I saw in a movie that humans went to the beach for a vacation," Amaimon comments, his gaze unwavering. "As fun as that sounds, I don't have the money, and my bathing suit is at home," you chuckle at the thought. "I have money.”
“You have money? Or does Mephisto have money?”
He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a credit card bearing the name "Ambrosius." "Big brother gave this to me," he announces, brandishing it in the air. "I haven't used it yet. He said it's better to use this than cash." You observe Amaimon's puzzled expression and then look at the card. He doesn’t know how to use it. "It's more convenient. Let me show you how to use it," you offer.
“Do you really want to go to the beach? For like a day or something?” You question. “You said you need a week.” He quickly answers. “Amaimon, going to the beach for one week is expensive. I doubt you have enough money.” Amaimon lifts the card, “I should.”
“Doubt it.” You sigh. “Give me the card; you can call and learn the balance.” He grabs his phone, too, handing both over. “Okay, so see this number?” You point to the phone number on the back of the black card. “You call this, listen to the options, then put in the information it asks for.” In the future, he’ll be able to do it himself or go to an ATM and do it; you can teach him that later. You call the number, following each step carefully. Then you’re told the balance.
“Oh.” You end the call. “Is it enough?” Amaimon questions, curious about your reaction. “Enough? Amaimon, you could buy a house with the amount of money on this card.” You mumble in disbelief while passing the card back. “Do you want to buy a house?”
You roll your eyes. “Anyway, you think Mephisto will be fine with spending his money on a vacation?”
Amaimon thinks back to Mephisto’s reaction to some items he bought the last time he had left town. “We can buy him something.”
“Do you even have an ID? We can’t rent a hotel without an ID.”
“Yes.”
“Well, my ID is in my dorm; they’ll need mine too.”
“Where? I’ll get it.”
Does he actually want to go to the beach? “It’s in my wallet on the desk.”
The door swings open, and a warm, salty breeze hits you in the face. Before you is a stunning view that looks like something you’d see on a desktop wallpaper years ago. The crystal blue water meets the pristine white sand along the beach, creating a breathtaking scene. “I’ve seen pictures of Miyako Island, but I always assumed the pictures were extremely edited.” You admit. “The hotel is there.” Amaimon points to your right.
Your jaw drops, staring at the large white resort. “That’s not a hotel, that’s a resort!” You know he has enough money on the card, but that doesn’t mean he has to spend it. When you turn to look at him, his appearance has changed. “Is that bad?” He questions. “Isn’t it expensive?” From what you can see, it seems to be a resort with personal villas and not just the hotel room you were expecting.
"Oh, I don't care," he turns towards a path that will lead to the resort. As you get closer, you can read the name: Villabu Resort. The buildings have a tropical feel to them with reddish-orange tiled roofs, while the buildings are white. Nervously, you follow Amaimon to the first building for check-in. Despite feeling like you don't belong, the staff greets you kindly with a warm smile, and your muscles relax a bit.
"Good afternoon," he bows once you're at the counter. "Do you have a reservation?" Amaimon nods, giving the name Ambrosius Faust. "Ah, Mr. Faust, will you be paying cash or card? And if I could get your ID and the young lady's. Per our policy, I must make copies. Is that ok?" he kindly asks. "There is also a deposit that you'll get back at the end of your stay." You nod, pulling your ID from your wallet. For some reason, Amaimon is not only carrying his credit card but also a ridiculous amount of cash. He places the stack of bills on the counter.
"Would you like to pay in cash?" he questions, staring at the stack of bills in disbelief. When Amaimon nods, the man gives another bow while grasping your ID with two hands, then Amaimon's. "Oh, you're young. You must've graduated high school early-" his eyes widen. "I'm sorry! That was rude; it's just I graduated early, so I was thinking of my younger years. I shouldn't have commented on that. Please forgive me." The man before you can't be that much older than you. "It's fine. Don't worry about it," He hurriedly finishes the process of check-in. "Your villa is the last one. Just follow the path all the way to the end."
Amaimon rudely snatches the key card from the man’s hand before walking away. “Sorry about him. He’s a bit odd.” You chuckle a bit awkwardly. “Thank you.” You give a slight bow before running to catch up with Amaimon.
You are taken aback as Amaimon opens the door. You had expected luxury, but the reality is beyond your imagination. The room is like something out of a travel magazine: a spacious queen bed in the center, with double doors on the right leading to a small private pool that overlooks the ocean. Across from the bed, a TV is mounted on the wall. "Oh my God.”
“God?” He drops the bags to pull you against his chest. “You should be saying my name.” You glance over your shoulder to see he’s switched his appearance back.
“I- Amaimon! There’s a pool.” You were planning to buy a bathing suit later today or tomorrow, but seeing the pool makes you wish you could jump in right now. You hadn't anticipated having your own private pool. “You don’t need a bathing suit,” he tells you, causing your cheeks to flush with embarrassment. “But I want one. Let's go shopping. Oh, wait, I also want to see the bathroom.” You pull away from him, curious about the shower setup. As you enter the bathroom, you immediately notice the large tub on your right. “It has a big bathtub!” You notice there is also a shower beside the tub. “It’s big enough for both of us.” He notes, monotone.
Before you can reply, a loud, cheesy pop song fills the room. “It’s big brother.” Amaimon comments, pulling out his phone. “They must have noticed you’re gone.” You quickly pat your pockets at his comment. You don’t have your phone. Where is it? Did I leave it in Amaimon’s room? Or my room? Amaimon had appeared so abruptly. You must’ve left it in your bedroom. “I left my phone in my bedroom. They’re probably losing their minds.”
“Big brother.” He answers calmly. “Yes, I know where she is.” Though you can’t hear his words, Mephisto’s tone is scolding. “Oh, she needed a vacation. So, we’re on a vacation. No.” He turns towards you. “Big brother says you should call your parents.”
“Amaimon, I told you I left my phone in my room.” Amaimon nods, passing the information to his brother. “Okay, I will buy her a new phone.” He ends the call when Mephisto is mid-sentence. “What did he say?”
“He told me to bring you back because your parents are worried. Since you left your phone in the bedroom, buy a phone here, and you can call them.” You’re surprised Amaimon would rather get you a new phone than call them with his, but you assume he doesn’t want them to have his number. If you call with the resort phone, they’ll know where you are. “Well, we were planning to go shopping anyway. I guess we should get the phone as soon as possible.” He glances at the tub and then back at you. “Okay.”
The villas are quite far from any shops. You were hoping to find a tourist shop to buy bathing suits and a place selling phones nearby, but there's nothing. "Maybe we should head back and ask the front desk to call a car?" There isn't even a door nearby where Amaimon can use his key. Worried that he might suggest carrying you to town using his demonic speed, you don't give him a chance to answer. Instead, you grab his hand. "They might even rent bikes, though I'm not really in the mood to ride a bike right now. We can check later." You give ideas as you pull him along. "You told Rin you went to the beach. Did you go to a beach with water this blue?" His hand tightens at the mention of Rin, but you choose to ignore it. "No." "You also mentioned surfing. You should try it for real. I'm curious how you'll do." You grin at the idea of Amaimon surfing, though he might not find it as fun as surfing on a rollercoaster. But you know he'll try it. He's curious enough to try anything once, it seems.
The man who checked you in greets you with the same warmth as the first time. “Hello, how is everything?”
“Great! I was wondering if you could help call us a taxi. Maybe you could suggest the best location to pick up some supplies too? Like a bathing suit.” He quickly nods. “Of course, I’ll call one right away.”
“Hi Mom.”
“Where are you?!” You flinch; why does she have to yell? “I’m just calling to let you know I’m safe. I- I can’t do this. I don’t know if Dad told you the truth yet, but this is too much.” You shift awkwardly. This isn’t a conversation you should have in the middle of a sidewalk. “I’m just calling to let you know I’m safe.”
“Come home.”
“I will, in a week.”
She starts to say your name, but you cut her off. “Stop. There’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind.”
“You could be in danger.”
Did Dad tell her? “I’ve been in danger the last eighteen years; I’m sure I'll be fine for one more week.” You end the call. “It’s ridiculous how many times I’ve had to end a call with her like that the last two weeks.” You mumble to yourself. You glance up at Amaimon, but his attention is elsewhere. You follow his gaze, a bakery. Of course. “Can we please go to the bakery last? Otherwise, we’ll be carrying around multiple bags of baked goods the whole time.”
He allows you to pull him into a tourist shop with multiple souvenirs, beach supplies, and bathing suits. You make a beeline to the bathing suits, and Amaimon closely follows, watching as you shuffle through all the different options. “Usually, my mom helps me decide.” You admit while holding up two different tops. I wonder how common it is for bikinis like this to come untied. You place the black bikini top back on the rack. You really don’t want to be here too long. “Pick something for yourself, Amaimon.” A forest green flounce top catches your eyes as you speak to Amaimon. You shift through the tops, finding one your size. “I’ll get this and some boyshorts style bottoms.” While you find a pair of black bottoms, Amaimon stands in front of his options, looking completely lost.
You notice something to his right that catches your attention; it’s a pale yellow swimsuit patterned with various cartoon-style cookies. "How about this?" you jokingly ask as you lift up the swimsuit. You're slightly taken aback when Amaimon agrees. "Okay." I don’t know why I’m surprised. He has an odd sense of style. You hold the trunks up to his waist. "Great. The only thing we need now is sunscreen unless you want something else." While you grab the sunscreen, he grabs multiple bags of different candies. Amaimon pulls out more cash as the cashier starts to ring you up. Where is all this cash coming from? You eye his jeans. There are no noticeable bulges in his pockets. Is he just making it appear in his pocket before pulling it out? I don’t know why he bothered with the credit card.
You follow Amaimon down the street. Most shops have large signs attempting to pull tourists in. A few restaurants have hosts reaching out to tourists to show off the menu. Amaimon tugs you away from one persistent host, trying to pass you a menu. “We have the best seafood town.” The host attempts to catch Amaimon’s attention as you’re pulled away. “Do you want to eat dinner?” You question him. “No.”
As hunger gnaws at your stomach, you mutter to yourself, "Well, I'm hungry. Maybe I should get something to go." Scanning your surroundings for a quick and portable meal. "We're going to the bakery," Amaimon interjects. You nod in acknowledgment. “Yes, but I'm human. I need real food."
“You are?”
You bristle at his words. “I still need real food, protein, fiber, etc.” You complain. Amaimon gives you a curious look. “Do you really?” You blink in confusion. Do you need to eat like a normal human? Does your body work differently than a human? Would you be able to go without the nutrition humans need? “I-I don’t know. But that’s something I need to speak to my father about. Until then, I’m going to eat like I always do. Anyway, I like to eat different foods, and if I eat only junk food, I’ll start to feel sick.” You think back to a time when your parents left you alone one weekend for the first time. You were sick for a week after eating only junk all weekend. “You go ahead to the bakery, and I’ll find something to eat.”
“No.”
"Okay, you'll grab something quickly," From the corner of your eye, you notice a sandwich shop; it's easy and won't make a mess going back to the resort. "I'll get a sandwich. Are you sure you don't want something normal to eat? Your body doesn't need it?" You wonder if maybe you should buy him something anyway, just in case he decides to help himself to your food. I’ll buy him the same as me; if he doesn’t want it, I’ll just put it in the fridge for later. You step into the shop, ordering two simple sandwiches. Amaimon leans over you to give them the cash before you have a chance to pull anything from your wallet. "Are you going to pay for everything?" "Yes." His arms wrap around your waist. The cashier glances away with a slight blush. Even a simple gesture like this can be seen as inappropriate by some Japanese citizens. You brush his arms away and quickly turn to leave the shop. “Let’s go.”
You watch as Amaimon fills the tray with multiple pastries. "_____, I need another tray," he calls to you from the back of the shop. "You know we can come back tomorrow," you suggest. He shakes his head. "I don't want to come back tomorrow." With his comment, you grab another tray for him. He quickly fills the tray you're holding for him, too. "Is this all?”
"Let's also get this cake," he suggests, pointing to a giant chocolate cake meant to feed at least ten people. You wonder if the fridge in the room is large enough to hold it, but don't argue with him. The staff grins, "Great option! I'll add some candles for free. Is it for you?" she asks Amaimon. As he nods, she points towards different number candles. "How old will you be?" Amaimon looks at the candles. "I'm over a thousand. I've lost track." "Nineteen! He'll be nineteen," you correct his answer, pinching his waist. "No, I'm-" He is about to continue, but you cover his mouth. "Ignore him." The cashier grins brightly. "My boyfriend also makes silly jokes. Here you go," she reaches for the one and nine shaped candles. "Happy Birthday!”
“Amaimon, you can’t tell humans you’re that old. If anyone else asks, tell them you’re nineteen.” You sigh as you wait for the car.
“Oh, right.” He nods.
The ride back is short. As the two of you exit the car, the driver grins. “Have a great party.” You smile back, thanking the driver. “Amaimon, please grab all the bags. I’ll carry the cake back; it’ll be easier.” You motion to the five bags on the ground.
“We forgot to buy drinks.” You comment while pulling the sandwich from your bag. Most hotels have drinks in the fridge; a resort should, too. “Amaimon, do you want cola or water?” You question as you open the fridge. “Cola.” Of course. You grab a bottle of cola for him and water for yourself. “You don’t want to add the candles to your cake?” You raise a brow, noticing him opening the box. “What do you mean?
“She gave you candles because she thinks it’s for a birthday party. When we have cakes for our birthdays, we add candles to the cake, make wishes, and then blow out the candles.” You pull the candles and matches from the bag as you explain the tradition to him. “Oh, show me.” He watches as you place the candles in the middle of the cake and light them. “Now, make a wish and blow them out.”
“What do I wish for?”
“Um, I don’t know. Whatever you want?”
“Does it come true?”
“No, it’s just tradition. I don’t think any of mine ever came true. Then again, I tend to wish for ridiculous things. I think I wished for a pony once.” You laugh, thinking back to your silly wishes. “Last year, I wished my favorite band would come to Japan. Their tour was only in North America and Europe, though.” Not that you would’ve had the money or means to travel to Tokyo to see them anyway. “Make a wish. They’re melting, and don’t say it aloud.”
“Why?”
“Because it won’t come true.”
“You said it doesn’t come true anyway.”
You sigh. “Just follow the tradition.”
“Okay.” His golden eyes burn into yours, and then he hums to himself before blowing out the candles.
“What did you wish for?” You can’t help but ask. It might be tradition to make a wish and not share it, but it’s also a tradition to ask someone after they have made a wish.
He shakes his head, speaking bluntly. “I’ll be very angry if it doesn’t come true. So, I won’t tell you.”
“Fair enough.”
Mephisto sits across from the parents, a sober expression on his face. “Have you spoken to _____ yet?” He’s unsure if the glare the parents are giving him is from the fact they have or haven’t. Either way, they won’t be happy. “Where is ____?” Yume questions. “With Amaimon.” “No shit. Where are they?” She snaps, her anger almost tangible. “I don’t know. I asked, but he refused to tell me.” Mephisto rubs the back of his head. “I guess you’ve spoken to _____, and she also refused to share her location?”
He sighs when they don’t answer. “I apologize, but I believe things are progressing faster than I intended.” Yasu narrows his eyes. “Meaning?” Mephisto holds up his hands defensively. “I can’t lie. It was in my plans. Though with a different brother and I assumed a year or two before it would become this serious.” He chuckles awkwardly.
Yasu’s expression turns eerily blank. “What do you mean it’s progressed?”
“Amaimon is quite attached.”
“I’m aware,” Yasu answers while Yume looks sick. Even if the history was a lie, she doesn’t want a demon this attached to her child. It’s in the top ten of the worst things she could imagine happening.
“He’s very jealous of Rin, which might be my fault. I might’ve pushed him a bit too much while joking about _____ having a relationship with Rin. I told him my original plan, but when I saw how defensive he got, I wanted to tease him a bit.” Mephisto tenses at the looks he receives.
Yasu speaks in an icy tone. “Get to the point, Mephisto.”
Mephisto stands, slowly backing away. “So, I might’ve pushed him to the point he’s a bit paranoid.” Yasu also stands, “And?” He takes another step back. “And he wants her as a mate.”
This time, Yume speaks. “Mate?”
Another step back. “Mate, queen, wife. Call it what you’d like. I mean! I’m not one hundred percent sure. But, if he’s not making her a mate now, he’s undoubtedly going to mark her to let others know she’s his. Let’s hope it’s the latter.”
“Mark?” Yume clinches her fist. She knows she doesn’t stand a chance against the demon before her, and it makes her sick. She wants so badly to rip his head off.
“Yes, in your terms, it’s like having her as his fiancée. Actually! I think I might can convince him to go with that. Would you like me to try?”
She snaps. “Yes, you fucking idiot!”
“Right, do you happen to have a way I could call them? Amaimon might’ve blocked my number….”
Notes:
So, this chapter was going to be a lot more serious, like Yasu confronting Amaimon and everything. However, imagining being in that position, she needs time to slow her mind down before it gets more confrontational. Also, give Amaimon and MC a chance to get closer. I feel like once Amaimon has set his mind on something, he doesn't care to wait around, especially if it'll get obstacles out of his way. One-track mind.
Fun fact: I had to Google all about beaches in Japan and found the island and resort, so if you're curious about what it looks like, you can look up Miyako Island Villabu resort.
Also, I thought about them going to a resort in Thailand that I had looked at before, but then it would be more like a honeymoon-type thing. Though I guess you could say the same for this resort. I went to Thailand earlier this year; the food is amazing. I want to go back so bad, lol.
Thank you for the support everyone <3
Chapter 20: Chapter 20
Summary:
FYI First half of this chapter doesn’t have smut
Notes:
I can't believe I've posted two new chapters within twenty-four hours. But I kept writing and ended up with a new chapter not long after posting chapter 19. This is my first time writing full intercourse, so.....yeah
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
While Amaimon cuts his cake, you unwrap your sandwich. “I don’t think that’s going to fit in the fridge; we’ll have to keep the AC down so the icing doesn’t melt.” You comment, watching him cut a piece large enough for three people. How does his teeth not rot? “Amaimon, do you ever have to go to a dentist?”
“What’s a dentist?”
Guess not. “It’s a doctor for your teeth; if I ate as much sugar as you, my teeth would probably rot.” You run your tongue along your back teeth, where you have a couple of fillings. “That’s odd.” He mentions casually before shoving a large forkful of cake in his mouth. You turn back to your sandwich, and with your stomach twisting in hunger, you take a few bites. However, a moment later, the demon king is looming over your shoulder, his eyes fixed on your food. “I want some.” Seriously? “I bought one for you, too, here.” You pull the second sandwich from the bag to pass to him. “No. I want some of yours.” “Really?” You sigh, passing it for him to try.
Amaimon takes a big bite of your sandwich, his sharp teeth grazing the bread. "You have your own food, you know," you remind him. He swallows, giving you a blank expression. "But I want yours," he declares, taking another bite without waiting for your response. You watch in exasperation as he devours almost half of your sandwich in record time. "Are you even going to leave me some?" you protest half-heartedly. Despite knowing you’ve got a second sandwich, you want the one Amaimon took. Amaimon shrugs indifferently before offering you what remains of the sandwich.
As you take the remnants of your sandwich from Amaimon, you can't help but shake your head in disbelief. Despite his intimidating appearance, the demon king's behavior sometimes borders on comical. With a sigh, you finish the last few bites of your now considerably smaller meal. “Could you cut me some cake, please?” You request as you lean back into the seat. When he picks up the cake cutter, you quickly add. “Half the size of what you cut for you. I can’t eat that much.” He nods.
As you taste the rich chocolate cake, your eyes widen. “Wow, this is way better than the cakes I bake.” You praise, curious about what recipe they use. “Really? I think yours is better.” You give him a blank stare. “Seriously? This is amazing; it melts in your mouth, and it’s rich without being too sweet. It’s like a masterpiece.” You hold up the cake like it’s something you’d find in an art exhibit. Amaimon shrugs, still not as impressed with the cake as you are. “It’s good, but yours is better.” You can’t argue with him; everyone has their own preferences, so you just nod. “I disagree, but I’m glad you like mine.” The demon king preferring yours is a nice stroke of your ego, even if you disagree. As you continue to eat your cake, you notice multiple notifications appear on your new phone.
Mom: We need to talk, it’s an emergency.
You raise a brow at the message, debating if you should reply. “My mom wants to talk to me; she claims it’s an emergency.” You answer Amaimon before he can ask about it.
Emergency?
Mom: It’s about Amaimon. I really need to speak to you over the phone about this.
It can wait until tomorrow. Amaimon isn’t doing anything concerning at the moment, so I’ll text you tomorrow. Please don’t spam me, I don’t want to block you until tomorrow.
Three dots appear and disappear continuously. It’s been twenty minutes now, and you’re curious about what she has to say. But you’re worried it’ll put you in a bad mood.
Mom: Please ask Amaimon to unblock Mephisto.
"Did you block Mephisto?" you inquire, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. Amaimon, with his trademark nonchalance, replies, "He was annoying me." I can’t believe he blocked him. You wave your phone in the air. "I'm going to turn my phone off until tomorrow. I'm not in the mood to talk to my mom. Also, she asks that you unblock Mephisto," Amaimon glances at his phone. "Maybe I should turn my phone off too," he muses before picking it up.
You turn towards the bag with your bathing suit, “I really wanna go for a swim, I still can’t believe we have a private pool.” You grin while stepping over to the bag and pulling the two piece out. “I didn’t notice, but the top is almost exactly the same color as your hair.” You grin, holding it up to compare. “Do you want to go in the pool too? If you do, here are your trunks.” You lay the funny cookie-patterned swimwear on the bed. You notice him nodding from the corner of your eye. “I’m going into the bathroom to change. You quickly change here.” You order while quickly heading to the bathroom before he can make any comments about you not having to leave. “Ah, I wish I could’ve washed it first.” You lift both pieces to your face. “Surely nobody has been allowed to try it on or return it, right?” You stare at it a moment more before sighing as you remove your clothes to change. The top is slightly more revealing than you had been expecting for the style. You glance at your chest in the mirror. It’s not too bad, though. Eh, it isn’t like Amaimon hasn’t seen my body before.
When you step back into the room, you glance at Amaimon. He looks so cute you bite your lip to keep from laughing at how innocent he appears. "Let's go," you say, turning your back to him, hiding your amusement. As you step to the edge of the pool, you quickly scan the area to confirm its privacy. "Amaimon, we’ve got complete privacy," you call to him, impressed. "There's even a barrier to block the view from anyone on the beach." You point toward the ocean, feeling a bit excited about having privacy. The Demon King follows you as you slip into the pool. “I wish I had a float.” You chuckle as you swim to the middle of the pool, laying on your back to float. It’s deep enough for you to relax comfortably, though not big enough to swim laps or something. Just big enough to have a bit of fun. With the water not being that deep, Amaimon towards you, pulling your floating body towards him. “You enjoy just floating here?” He questions. “I guess. You don’t?” “No. It’s boring.” You laugh, raising your hand to splash water in his face. When he just stares blankly at you with water dripping down his face, you can’t help but laugh more. “Maybe you’ll find the ocean more interesting. I want to see you try surfing. There are also more things you can do in the ocean.” You stand, wrapping your arms around his neck. “We can go snorkeling. This is a really popular location for it.” When he tilts his head, you quickly explain snorkeling, though he doesn’t look impressed. “There’s also skimboarding. I’m curious if you’ll be able to do it.” You run your hand through his hair as you speak. “Skimboarding?” “Yeah, it's kind of like surfing but closer to shore.” You attempt to explain, though it’ll be better just to show him a video later. You ponder for a moment but nothing else comes to your mind. “We can look up different activities, too; we have plenty of time.” After floating around for a few more minutes, you get bored, too.
“I’m going to take a bath.” You mention to him, while stepping out of the pool. “Why?” “Because after you swim, you should take a bath. The pool has a lot of chemicals that you should wash off your body.” You explain while grabbing a towel. “Same with the ocean, except it’s from sand and the salty water is bad for your skin..” Amaimon follows you into the bathroom, watching you carefully as you fill the tub. “Oh wow, look at this selection.” You comment to yourself, eyeing the bath oils provided by the resort. You pick up each one, smelling it to see which you like best.
Amaimon’s eyes burn into your back as you check the temperature of the water. “I want to take a bath with you.” He comments when you stand up. Stepping forward, he wraps you in his arms, sliding his fingers into the waistband of your bottoms. You blush furiously at Amaimon's bold suggestion. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you swallow hard before meeting his gaze.
"Um, I-I'm not sure if that's a good idea..." you stammer, trying to maintain some composure despite the heat rising to your cheeks.
Amaimon's expression remains unreadable as he tilts his head slightly, his fingers still lingering near the waistband of your bottoms. "Why not? It's just a bath," he says nonchalantly.
You raise a brow. There’s no way it’s just a bath. He tugs lightly at your bottoms. "Come on," he urges, his tone teasing yet commanding. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He’s seen you and touched you, but you still can’t help but feel shy. Also, you’ve never seen him in anything less than boxers.
With a deep breath, you attempt to steady yourself. "Fine," you reply, your voice surprisingly steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. Amaimon's lips meet your throat, opening his mouth slightly to run his sharp fangs against his seemingly favorite spot. Without hesitation, he tugs off your swimsuit; though too embarrassed to watch him remove his, you quickly get into the water, turning your back to him.
The warm water envelops you as you sit awkwardly in the middle of the large tub, hoping he chooses to sit behind you. Too shy to face him. I should’ve made it a bubble bath. Amaimon takes the hint and slips in behind you, though as soon as he’s settled in the water, he pulls you into his lap. You can feel the heat radiating off his body as he holds you close, his strong arms encircling your waist. Amaimon’s fingers trace idle patterns on your skin, sending tingles down your spine.
“You’re tense. Relax.” He orders. You close your eyes, urging yourself to relax in his embrace while attempting to push back the thoughts about him being naked behind you. As you lean back against him, Amaimon buries his face in the crook of your neck. His warm breath tickles your skin as he exhales softly against your neck. "You smell nice," Amaimon murmurs, his words muffled against your skin. Slowly, you turn your head to catch a glimpse of his expression, but his features are hidden from your view.
With a newfound boldness, you shift slightly in his embrace, turning to face him. "Amaimon..." you start, your voice barely above a whisper as you meet his enigmatic gaze.
Before you can say anything more, Amaimon's hand reaches up to gently cup your cheek, “You fascinate me.” Amaimon admits, “I want you.” You tilt your head in confusion. “You own my soul, Amaimon.” He nods. “Yes. But I’m greedy. I want more.”
“What more do you want?”
He moves your legs so they’re on either side of his waist. Your face burns as you feel him against you. “Your body.” He grinds his hips against you, causing you to gasp at the new sensation and bury your head in the crook of his neck in embarrassment. “Will you give it to me?” “Amaimon, wasn’t that part of the contract?” You question. “Yes, I suppose it was.” He hums. Though he’d never force you to do something you didn’t want, he’s a demon, not a monster. “But do you want to give it to me?” “You’re asking?” “Please don’t insult me by thinking I’d do something that would harm you.” He squeezes you. “Don’t worry, you can have me in return.”
“What?”
Amaimon looks thoughtful for a moment. Lifting one hand, a manga appears. “See? Like this.” He points at the front cover. Your face burns at what he is showing you: a newlywed couple, the groom carrying his bride on the steps of a church. “No.”
A dark look flashes in his eyes. “No?”
“I mean, I’ve only known you two weeks!” You remind him. “Also, I’m only eighteen; I haven’t even finished high school.”
He waves the manga in the air. “You don’t want this with me?”
“I didn’t say that!”
“So, you do?”
You groan, dropping your head to his shoulder. “Amaimon.”
“_____, you are being very confusing. It’s a simple answer.” He complains.
“Okay, yes. Maybe in two or three years, happy?”
“Yes.” He looks thoughtful for a moment. “But I can have your body now, right?” He rolls his hips into yours as he questions you, reminding you of your position. You sigh, embarrassed but unable to hide the heat that still lingers between you. "Amaimon, you really don’t make this easy, do you?"
His lips curl into a devilish grin. "Why should I?" he challenges, tracing the curve of your hip with his finger. "I want you.” With that said, he stands, pulling you up with him.
“W-wait, Amaimon. I haven’t washed my hair-“
“It’s okay; you’ll need a bath when I’m done with you anyway.” He comments, picking you up to carry you to the bed. Once you’re settled on the bed, you turn your eyes away, still too shy to look at his body. He swiftly climbs over you, leaning down to press his warm lips against yours. Amaimon's tongue sweeps gently into your mouth, a soft moan escaping your lips as he deepens the kiss, his hands roaming over your body. Your breath hitches in your throat as he cups your breast.
As his lips trail along your jaw, down your neck. You can't help but moan softly when he lingers there, gently biting the spots he knows are most sensitive, leaving more marks. While his hands continue their exploration, you feel something hard press against your thigh. “Oh.” You gasp. He chuckles against your throat. “Even with the fun we’ve had previously, you’re so innocent.” Your face burns at his comment. “I’ve never seen you or-” Amaimon nods while grasping your right hand, placing it on his lower abdomen. “Yes, I know.”
You swallow hard as you feel his erection throbbing against your hand. It’s large, warm and hard. It’s awkward, you aren’t sure what to do, but Amaimon seems to sense your discomfort. “Don’t worry, I’ll show you,” he comments, grasping your hand and guiding it. “Just touch me.” With a gentle squeeze, he encourages you to explore and become familiar with him in this new, intimate way. As your fingers trace the length of him, Amaimon lets out a soft moan, his hips bucking slightly against your touch. “Do you want me to-“
“No.” He cuts you off, pulling your hand off him. “I need to focus on you tonight. Otherwise, I might hurt you.” He pushes you onto your back, spreading your legs. He runs a knuckle along your slit, then lifts it to his face. “Oh, I see you enjoyed touching me.” He comments before licking his knuckle clean.
“Amaimon-“
“I know.” He replies before delving between your legs, his lips engulfing your throbbing center. His tongue expertly strokes you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You arch your back, moaning at the familiar sensation. He lifts his head quickly to bite off a few of his claws before leaning down once again. While his mouth focuses on your clit, his finger slides inside of you, making you gasp, grip his hair, and arch your back. He slides in and out, stretching you gently. As he increases the pace, you feel your desire building, your body craving more. You run your hand through his hair, gripping it tightly while raising your hips, grinding against his mouth to chase the oncoming release. Once you feel yourself getting close, he sits up, slipping his fingers out of you. “Amaimon?” You whine. “Sorry, _____.” He mumbles, licking off his fingers. “I’m just wondering if it’ll be better to have you cum now or cum during intercourse. I know you can handle cumming more than once. What do you think?” “I-I don’t know.” Your face burns as you stare at him. “Amaimon.” You whine, squirming under him. He watches you for a moment. “Okay, I’ll let you cum both ways tonight.” He lowers himself once more, his hot mouth attached to your clit while his fingers pump in and out until he hits the spot, he knows makes you see stars. You call out his name, your body shaking with the release of the pleasure.
Amaimon rests comfortably between your thighs for a moment, licking the remnants of your essence from his lips and fingers. He sits up, gazing deeply into your eyes, his expression a mixture of triumph and satisfaction. "There," he says simply as if marking the end of a conquest. He kisses back up your body until his lips connect with yours. “Are you ready?” He questions, positioning himself between your legs. You can’t help but glance down, seeing him for the first time. He’s huge. Sure, you just touched him, but you hadn’t really clicked he is this big until now. “I think," you answer, forcing a steady breath into your lungs. “_____, are you ready?” He repeats. “Yes.” "Good," he whispers, slowly pushing into you. Your eyes widen at the feeling. It’s so much different than you had been expecting. “Are you okay?” He questions calmly, pausing to stare into yours, looking for any signs of discomfort. “Yes,” You gasp, closing your eyes tightly. You let out a soft whimper as he slowly pushes into you completely. He pulls out slightly, giving a shallow thrust. You moan at the feeling of him stretching you open. When he notices you aren’t showing any signs of discomfort, he picks up the pace, his hips moving in rhythmic motions. As pleasure builds, you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer. Amaimon growls, thrusting deeper.
You pant as he changes his rhythm and moves his body slightly to target a spot that brings you closer to your climax. Your toes curl, and you dig your nails into his back for support. He chuckles at your response. "Is that it?" he asks, directing his attention to the same spot again. All you can do is grip onto his back, your breath quickening as your body responds eagerly. With a new intensity, Amaimon thrusts deeper inside you, his eyes locked on yours, and your body trembles as you reach your peak, crying out his name.
"Don’t tell me you're done," he blinks down at you. "Because I'm not."
As he says this, he picks up his pace, his hips bucking against yours. Your breath hitches as you feel him reach even deeper inside you. Leaning down, he presses his lips to yours, tongue tangling with yours as his hands grip your hips, thrusting deeper and harder. He moves his thumb to your clit, rubbing small circles quickly, bringing you to your peak once more. You dig your nails deeper into his back as you come undone for a third time.
When you look up at him, his face contorted with pleasure, eyes locked on yours as he loses control. He growls, his body shuddering as he releases into you. He doesn’t pull out right away; instead, he props himself up to watch you carefully as he places his palm on your lower abdomen. Feeling his gentle caress slowly brings you back to reality. You can't help but smile as you run your fingers through his dark green hair. When he pulls out, your eyes catch his member. "I didn't know you were that big," you admit, exhaustion leaving you lacking the filter you usually have. Amaimon shrugs, leaning down to kiss you. "Yes, you looked scared for a moment.” He comments before slipping off you and reaching for the blanket. He tugs you close before covering both of you with the blanket. “Go to sleep.”
Notes:
Hopefully, it's not horrible. I read a lot, but I've never written it. Except for the one scene between MC and Amaimon, but it didn't get this far. Thank you for the support, it means a lot <3
Feel free to tell me if the smut is horrible lmao. I really should've gotten my friend to check it first but she's sleeping.
Chapter 21: Chapter 21
Summary:
MC and Amaimon head to the beach and try their hands at surfing
Notes:
I'm wondering if I should change the storyline or something. With the lack of response in the last two chapters, I'm a bit nervous and trying to decide if I need to go back to the drawing board.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
You squint at the light streaming into the bedroom. “Amaimon, what time is it?” You whisper. “It’s nine.” He responds while flipping through some book. “What are you looking at?” You mumble while leaning in to see what he’s looking at, but as your thigh brushes against his, you realize he’s not wearing anything. Your face burns. “You’re naked.” He nods. “So are you. What do you want for breakfast?” Your embarrassment doesn’t faze him as he focuses on what you now see is the menu for room service. “Um, I don’t know.” You slide closer to him while still being cautious enough to leave a small space between you. Amaimon gives you a look but doesn’t comment on your shy behavior. “Maybe some fruit.” You point at a large fruit tray option on the page. Amaimon nods and reaches for the phone to order your fruit, and whatever he decides will sate his sweet tooth. He places his hand on your thigh, pulling your attention to him while holding up the phone. “Is there something else you want?” He questions. “I want to wash off. We both should before you call for breakfast.” You reply with a yawn and stand. A slight pain shoots around your thighs as you stand. “Oh.” You wince, then glance down to see dark bruises all over your hips and thighs, one being an unmistakable handprint. You quickly rush into the bathroom, and look up in the mirror. Fuck, my bathing suit isn’t going to cover this. He’s left marks almost everywhere. You bite your lip nervously and turn to the shower, wanting to wash off quickly, then change into the bathing suit, which doesn’t do a good job of covering everything. I need to get a different bathing suit today. A t-shirt and knee length shorts style swimsuit you had seen pops into your mind. I’ll try to remember to stop by and buy it.
Despite only being fruit, the tray in front of you looks amazing, the fruit is cut into different shapes, which probably makes it double the price that you’d pay elsewhere. You brush off the droplets of water that fall onto your shoulders from your damp hair as you sit down. Glancing up at Amaimon, he is drowning his pancakes in syrup. You raise a brow; his pancakes are pretty much swimming in the syrup. "What do you want to do today?" you ask, already brainstorming different ideas. "You said surfing," Amaimon replies between mouthfuls of food. “You’ll need to get into your swimsuit after breakfast.” We’ll need to find a rental shop. You pull out your phone to search local rental shops and come across a few with surfing instructors, too. A YouTube video link is below the local shops. Learn How to Surf In 10 Minutes. “Amaimon, look at this.” You prop your phone on the table at an angle that allows both of you to watch. “I didn’t think about the part we have to jump up to stand on the board.” You let out an uncomfortable laugh. Maybe you won’t break anything; it’s a relief to know you’ll be starting in the shallows; you hadn’t thought about the basics before. Every time you think of surfing, it’s the huge waves. I should be okay in the shallow water. “Amaimon, could you please help me put some sunscreen on when you finish breakfast?”
“This dress will work perfectly for a cover-up.” You mumble as you pull a blue summer dress from your bag. “I can’t believe I didn’t think to buy one yesterday. I’ll buy one today when I get the new bathing suit.” You comment while slipping the dress over your head, covering yourself. “Are you ready? There’s a surf shop down the beach from us we can walk to.” You point to your right, where the shop sits just on the edge of the resort’s private beach. When you turn around, you see Ambrosius dressed in his cute cookie trunks and a green t-shirt. I wish he could go out in his other form. From what you’ve learned about exorcists, there could possibly be an exorcist nearby or someone who has connections to exorcists. Even if they weren’t aware he’s Amaimon, it’s obvious he’s a demon in his other form. “What’s wrong?” He questions, and you wonder for a moment if he actually cares or if his tone is just because that’s how he always speaks. Probably a mix of both. He’s an enigma.
“I’m more attracted to your other appearance.” Amaimon tilts his head. “I know.” Your eyes widen as a thought crosses your mind. “Hey, do you think I have another appearance? Dad has one, right? Rin does when his sword is drawn.” You glance down at yourself as you speak. Amaimon shrugs. “Ask Yasu later.”
“I wonder what Dad looks like in his real form; I wonder if I have one, would it look better.” You ponder to yourself. “You came here not to think about everything. Stop.”
“Right…. still, I wonder if I’d look better if I do.”
Amaimon gives you an unimpressed look. “Shut up.”
“What if you’re disgusted because it’s part angel? Are you disgusted by angels?”
“If you do have another form, I’ll tie you to the bed and show you how attracted I am to you. I don’t care what form you’re in.”
Tie me up? Your face burns at his comment, and when you make eye contact, his eyes light up.
“Anyway! Let’s go.”
Halfway to the surf shop, you remember you were meant to contact your mom. Not wanting to have a long conversation, you send a quick and short message.
I’m fine. I told Amaimon to unblock Mephisto. I’m turning off the phone now. I need a break, I’ll message/see you in a week unless something happens, of course. <3
You do what you said and turn off the phone with a sigh. “You need to unblock Mephisto and send him a message, too.” “Okay.” Seconds after Amaimon sends the message, he receives a phone call.
“Big Brother.”
Despite not being able to hear the words, it’s obvious Amaimon is being scolded. “Okay.” He answers mid-rant. “I won’t.”
There’s an awkward silence for a moment before Mephisto speaks again. Amaimon turns to stare at you. “I can wait.” You raise a brow, wishing he had put it on speaker. “No.” His brow furrows at whatever Mephisto replies. “Oh, I forgot. I see. Okay, bye.”
“Is everything okay?”
Amaimon nods, “Let’s go.”
“Welcome!” A brown-haired boy, maybe a couple of years older than you, greets you enthusiastically. You purse your lips; he’s attractive, so why does he look so dull? The lack of attraction you feel towards others now is weird. He looks like he might be about to go for a swim with an opened blue button-up shirt and black swim trunks. The closer you get, you can see he’s muscular, similar to a swimmer’s body, maybe he’s into a sport. You ponder for a moment whether surfing can get you into shape like that or if he does sports other than surfing.
When you make eye contact, you realize the mistake you made. He took your staring at something else. His customer grin turns flirty. “Here for a rental?” You nod at his question. “Yeah, a couple of surfboards and anything else we might need.” You answer while stepping back to look around the shop. The video you had watched during breakfast talked about different types of boards, but seeing them up close really throws you off. Which kind did I need again? You crane your neck to look up at a longboard. That’s huge. “’and anything else?’.” He quotes you. “Guess you’re a beginner?” He chuckles as he steps out from behind the counter to move beside you. “Yeah, my experience is watching a ten-minute video this morning.” When he moves a bit closer, you step back to Amaimon, who places his hand on your left hip. A moment of silence passes before the guy starts laughing loudly. “Really?” He wipes tears away while trying to gain his composure. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting that answer.” He covers his mouth, attempting to hide the laughter still bubbling in his throat. “Would you like lessons? I won’t charge for the first hour.” He offers, biting his lip, still trying to keep his amusement at bay. You notice over his shoulder a large sign offering lessons from thirty minutes to an hour; any longer, you’d have to make a booking ahead of time. “Free?” He nods excitedly. “Yeah, this is my dad’s shop. He wouldn’t mind, plus with school being in session and a weekday, business is dead.” Did it go over his head that I entered with Amaimon? You place a hand over Amaimon’s, digging your nails into his hand. He’s putting too much pressure on a bruise. “Does that include him?” You question, nodding towards Amaimon. “Yeah! Of course.” He grins at Amaimon. “Oh! I’m Dai, and you are?” “_____, and this is Ambrosius. Um, it’s okay, we don’t need lessons. Just need to know what we should get.”
Dai takes a step back, getting a better look at you, and then his face flushes in embarrassment. “Sorry, I didn’t realize.” He had jumped the gun when he mistakenly thought you were ‘checking him out’. Though maybe you were, look but don’t touch type of thing. He’s not sure. “But the offer still stands. I’m so bored.” He laughs. “No.” Amaimon answers for you. You quickly speak up. “Maybe another time, we’re heading to the private beach where our resort is, I imagine you need to stay near your shop.”
He nods his head in understanding, but then his eyes widen in horror. “Wait, are you on your honeymoon? I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I-“
“No, no.” You quickly cut him off. “We’re still students. Just dating.” At your words, Dai relaxes, though he still looks frustrated with himself. “Oh, I see. Well, have fun. If you need anything like advice about fun places around town, feel free to stop by, and I’ll be happy to share all the best spots with you.” You thank him and he quickly helps you with which boards and wax you should use.
“This is surprisingly light.” You grin as you lift the board over your head. “What is a honeymoon?”
“Huh?”
“He asked if we were on our honeymoon.” Amaimon eyes you with a lollipop hanging out of his mouth.
You blush. “When people get married, they sometimes go on a honeymoon after the wedding. It’s a first vacation as a married couple. Anyway! Let’s see, maybe I should watch that video again. Do you need to watch it?” You pull your phone from your pocket, turning it back on. If your mom messages nonstop at some point, you’ll just mute her.
“No.”
You drop the surfboard, and it lands with a soft thud on the ground. “Ah crap, we should’ve got an umbrella.” The sun affects your ability to see the screen on your phone; you strain your eyes to see, but it’s no use. “Amaimon, I’m going to the table by our pool so I can see my phone. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” You call out. The way back to the room is a bit painful, the soft, hot sand making you wince with every step. Once you are seated at the table, you open the video. With the way he explains it, you almost feel like you could just hop in the water now and be a skilled beginner. That’s until you get to him explaining how to stand on the board again. “Should I practice on the sand first?” You question watching him explaining a good way to practice is on the sand. “It’s fine, I got this.” You pump yourself up as you walk towards the place you left Amaimon. “Amaimon, you were waiting?” You’re surprised to see him sitting between the two surfboards. You had been expecting him to get in the water while you watched the video. Also, he’s changed back into his other, more demonic form. It’s a private beach, so it should be okay, I guess. He nods, standing up. “Yes. Are you ready?”
“Yup, let’s go.” You pick up the board, deciding you’ll just chance it and not bother with practicing jumping on the sand. “You go first, though.” You grin, excited to see how Amaimon will do. He stares boredly before agreeing.
With a swift motion, Amaimon positions the board for an oncoming wave and gracefully jumps on, expertly balancing himself as if he has been surfing for years. Of course. You sigh, propping your arms on your board, floating close to him. Amaimon sits with his legs on either side of the board, looking down at you. “The rollercoaster was more fun.” He looks bored to death. “Not really surprised you’d think that, especially with these smaller waves.” You lift yourself on your board in the correct position for you to stand.
As you catch what you hope is the perfect wave, you attempt to stand up on the surfboard. The small amount of excitement you have been feeling is short-lived as you mistakenly shift too much weight on your left leg while lifting your right. You and the board flip into the ocean. The taste of saltwater fills your mouth and stings your nostrils as you struggle. You’re quickly able to regain your bearings and flip the board back correctly while lifting yourself out of the water and coughing out some water while doing so. You glance up to see Amaimon staring at you; he blinks once, twice. Then laughter fills the air; he’s laughing just as much as during his fight with Rin. You stare up at him, unimpressed. “Finally, laugh around me, and you’re laughing at me.” He grins at you when his laughter dies down. “I change my mind. Surfing with you is fun.”
“You’re lucky I love you.” You huff in annoyance, not catching the words that slipped from your lips.
“Am I?” He questions, watching you float with your arms across the middle of the surfboard.
You raise a brow. “Are you what?”
“Lucky that you love me.”
Your eyes widen in horror. Why do you always have to bring up love with him? This is like the third time, what the hell ____. You scold yourself as the demon king stares down at you with that stupid, unreadable face. “It’s just an expression. Sarcasm like the ‘love you too’.” You switch to a sardonic tone for him to catch the difference. “Stop taking my words of sarcasm seriously. Don’t overthink it, Amaimon. It’s not like emotions are your strong suit anyway.” You give a painfully fake laugh. “Anyway, could you please help me? I want to learn to surf, too.”
His golden eyes burn back into yours for what feels like a millennia before he replies. “Okay, don’t drown.”
Sitting on the edge of the water, you glare at the surfboard to your right. I can’t believe I couldn’t even ride one stupid wave completely without falling. “You’re bad at surfing.” Amaimon sits beside you while passing a bottle of water. “I noticed.” You pout while accepting the water, thankful he cared enough to get you one. “I couldn’t even stand up for more than a minute.” Maybe you should’ve done like the video suggested and practiced the way to stand up on a board in the sand first. However, you’re not in the mood to take in any more salty water to try again. At least not today. You think of Amaimon’s comment about it being boring. “These waves are small, more for beginners. I wonder if you’d find the big ones fun.” You hadn’t seen any, but that’s most likely because it's low tide; since there is a surf shop, there probably are better waves during high tide. “But I don’t know, after you ‘surfed’ on the rollercoaster, bigger waves might not be entertaining enough for you.”
Your eyes widen in disbelief as you turn your attention from the surfboard to him. “Where did you even find ice cream? When did you get it?” He’s nonchalantly licking a cone of chocolate ice cream. You hadn’t even noticed him disappear long enough to get an ice cream cone from wherever it came from. Cared enough to get me water but not an ice cream cone, huh? You pout, eyeing the cone. “Amaimon, let me try it.” He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, cleaning off the remnants of ice cream.
“No.”
You purse your lips in annoyance. “I just wanted to try it.” You mumble.
“Fine.”
“Really?”
Before you have time to process what is happening, Amaimon has you pinned on the beach beneath him. He firmly grasps your chin in his left hand and takes a slow lick of the ice cream cone before pressing his lips to yours. His tongue pushes the ice cream into your mouth as he kisses you deeply. When he breaks the kiss, you're left breathless, your mind racing to catch up with what just happened. Amaimon looks at you with his piercing golden gaze as he takes another lick of the ice cream. “Do you want more ______?”
Your face burns as you lick the ice cream from your lips. “I…uh…” Your cheeks are burning as you try to find the words. “…yes.” You murmur, a wave of shyness washing over you.
Amaimon stares down at you with his unreadable expression. He leans in closer, his warm breath ghosting over your lips before capturing them in another searing kiss, the taste of chocolate ice cream mingling between you both.
"Do you still want more?" Amaimon questions as he pulls away.
You can only nod in response, unable to speak coherently.
You blink in surprise when he stands and holds out the ice cream cone for you to take a bite. “Just one bite.” He orders, sounding almost threatening. You glance from him to the ice cream and back again. He’s not that oblivious. Is he seriously teasing me? You huff before taking a bite. Amaimon quickly finishes the rest of it.
“Are you done surfing? We should take the board back if you are.” You pick up the dress and pull it over your head as you speak. You toss Amaimon a look. “Change back; you can’t go into the surf shop like that.” You order grumpily. Upset with the green-haired tease. Amaimon tilts his head at your attitude. Then speaks bluntly. “I’m not stopping you from initiating anything.” Amaimon gives you a look before changing his appearance and grabbing both surfboards.
You glance to the side. Stupid Demon King. Instead of answering, you grab your bottle of water and start brushing the sand off your legs. How am I even supposed to initiate it? Multiple ideas flashing through your mind leave your face burning. Despite what’s happened with him throughout the week and last night, you can’t help but feel shy at the idea of taking the lead in that matter. It’ll probably be at least a year before you’d get the courage to initiate anything. If he doesn’t lose interest in me by next year.
“What?”
When you look up, Amaimon stares at you with a stoic expression. Unaware that you had said it aloud, you question him. “Huh?”
“It seems you have trouble comprehending eternity.”
Notes:
I don't know if you can surf or if the MC you're imagining in your mind can. But this is MC's first time learning to surf, so I'm sorry if you're disappointed she can't do it. She should've practiced on the sand like the video recommended, which is a real video I had to find and watch online because I know nothing about surfing.
Of course, MC still has trouble accepting that Amaimon genuinely plans to keep her forever.
Chapter 22: Chapter 22
Summary:
Amaimon and MC get time to relax
Notes:
Birth control is mentioned- though not in detail - no smut
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“It seems you have trouble comprehending eternity.”
You sigh and don’t bother replying to it. Even with a contract, it’s crazy to imagine a demon keeping interest in someone for an eternity. Especially with how easily this demon loses interest in things. “It’s around noon; let’s shower after we drop the boards off, then go for lunch.”
“You go back and shower. I will take the board.”
Before you have a chance for his words to sink in, he’s already halfway to the surf shop. I hope nobody notices the weird guy running down the beach at an unnatural speed.
You take much more time walking back to your room than it takes him to get halfway to the surf shop. This soft sand is the worst part of the beach. You wince with each step, frustrated with how hot the sand is. Since arriving at the beach, the sand has gotten even hotter under the sun. You wonder for a moment if you can get burns from sand like this. At the beginning of your personal path to the beach, the resort has a shower set up. So glad someone thought to add these showers before returning to your room. The shower is situated just where the cement on your little personal patio ends, and the path begins. You strip yourself of the dress and step under the cool water. “Ah crap, there is sand everywhere.” You pull your bikini top from your chest for the water to wash the sand off your chest and the inside of your top, then attempt the same with your bottoms. The fact it’s not a handheld showerhead makes the process even more complicated.
“What are you doing?” You jump, turning around. Amaimon is standing behind you, having dropped the Ambrosius appearance. “You scared me! I’m trying to get the sand off.” Tugging down your swimsuit bottom at the hip, you show him the sand attached to your skin. “It’s hard to get off because I need to wash the sand stuck to the inside of the bathing suit, too.” You eye Amaimon’s body; his toned legs are also covered in sand. “You’ve probably got sand stuck in your shorts too.” He nods in agreement, feeling bits of sand all over his body. A short moment of watching you leads him to drop his trunks without hesitation. Your attention is pulled from trying to get the sand off after hearing the distinct sound of wet cloth hitting the ground. “Amaimon-“
“Take yours off too, that isn’t working.” He speaks like it’s the most obvious option in the world, and as you glance around, maybe it is. You’re at the edge of your private patio, the private pathway to the beach is gated, and there’s no way anyone can see you. Forcing yourself to keep your eyes above his waist, you purse your lips. Even if nobody is around, it’s awkward to think about being nude outside when someone might be nearby, even if they’re on the other side of a wall. I really don’t want to bring dirt into the room. Part of your mind starts to find reason. It is a pain washing sand out of a shower; if it’s not removed completely, it’ll uncomfortably stick to your feet the next time you shower off. “R-right.” Nodding in agreement, you quickly strip. Facing Amaimon, you struggle to keep your eyes from lingering too much. On the other hand, Amaimon has no problem racking his eyes over your body before pulling you close; you squeak at the unexpected contact and gently slap his shoulder. “We’re supposed to be washing the sand off.” Looking innocent, he runs a hand along your back, removing sand with his movements. “I am washing the sand off you.” He tilts his head, looking confused, “What did you think I was doing?” he questions while continuing to help remove the sand until his hand brushes against a slightly sore spot; with the pain, a small hiss leaves your lips then you question him. “Are you happy with that?” He gently brushes his fingers against the near-perfect handprint-shaped bruise he left last night.
“Yes.”
Your lips purse, moving your right hand to his hip and pinch it. “Of course. I don’t know why I asked. But, thanks to your love marks, I need to buy a different style bathing suit today.” Before he can argue about covering you, quickly continue. “I don’t need people thinking the worst. Now hurry up. I want to take a shower. Ah crap, it’s even worst in my hair.” He just had to pin you down earlier. You’ll be finding sand in your hair the next couple days.
After quickly washing the sand off and rinsing your bathing suit, you make your way to the shower in the bathroom. Amaimon is quick to follow, almost walking on your heels as you go to the shower. “Amaimon, which shampoo do you want to use?” While questioning him, you lift a fruity shampoo for yourself. Amaimon stares at you blankly. “I don’t care.” The answer doesn’t help when there are multiple options with different scents. Maybe this one? He smells earthy naturally. This is kind of close. But he also likes sweets; this shampoo is sweet-smelling. You lift both to your face, debating which one he’d prefer. “Are you sure you don’t care?”
“Yes.”
Opening the fruity one, you squirt a large amount into your hands and then drop it on his head. “I guess we can match.” You grin, slightly massaging the shampoo into his hair. “I don’t understand the physics of this.” You mumble, running your fingers through his hair ‘horn’. It keeps its shape even when wet, but you can easily run your fingers through it. He doesn’t comment on his odd feature, instead he leans his head into your palms while staring blankly. “Do you use conditioner?” Your nails gently scratch against his scalp as you question him. He ponders for a moment, thinking back to the supplies in the shower at his brother’s house. “Yes.” His answer, or rather the time it took to answer, surprises you. They don’t have those supplies in Gehenna? It’s most likely his experience with it is from your world. Now is not the time to ask him if he showers in Gehenna. “I see.” You move your hands from his hair into your own. “I put way too much shampoo in your hair.” You giggle, removing more shampoo from his hair. “Let’s hurry up. I want to go outside for lunch, and I am going to buy another swimsuit; I want to go snorkeling or something; I can’t let others see these marks.” You motion to yourself. The rest of the shower is quick, other than having to help Amaimon remove the conditioner from his hair after he added a lot more than needed.
“Why don’t we go for sushi? Since we’re at the beach, everything will be fresh.”
Amaimon doesn’t look interested in the idea of sushi but agrees anyway. You grab your phone to research different restaurants nearby. While you scroll through the phone, Amaimon digs through the bags holding the baked goods he bought the night before. After narrowing down your search and finding a few highly rated sushi places, one particular shop catches your eye - not because of their sushi, but because they have a dessert shop right next door. Perfect for Amaimon if he doesn’t eat much of the sushi. “Amaimon, I found a place. Let’s go- why did you stuff so much bread in your mouth?” His cheeks are comically puffed up with chocolate bread, its filling smeared all over his face. He’s so cute. Amusement fills you while watching him finish the bread stuffed in his mouth. “You’re not supposed to stuff your mouth that full; you look like a hamster.” A cute hamster. You grin at him when he stands, brushing any breadcrumbs off that might’ve fallen on his clothes. How is a demon king this cute? I love him. “Ready?” You question while attempting to bury that last thought deep in your mind. That’s something you don’t want to slip accidentally. It’s bad enough that he questions it every time you’re saying it in a joking way. “I’ll call for a car.”
This isn’t right. You look from your phone to the street signs, then phone again. Do some streets not have signs, or are you lost? The map says the restaurant should be where you’re standing. You glance to the right; yup, a furniture store is definitely not the restaurant. To your side, Amaimon is eating chips, unbothered about the situation. “We moved.” Or rather, the blue dot showing your location moved, disappearing only to appear two blocks over. Are we really where the dot is, and it froze or something? Slowly, the dot slides across the map until it matches your location again. You double-check by matching the location to a shop beside you that shows up on the map. “Why?” You grumble, giving up on your phone’s built-in map and pulling up Google Maps instead. “We’re ten minutes from the restaurant. Well, shit.” Amaimon walks without complaint.
“There is it.” It's a small, cute restaurant, and it seems you just missed the lunch crowd, with there only being a couple of customers in the shop. Amaimon tosses the chip bag in the trash, his attention on the dessert shop. “Real food first, please.” You tug him a bit closer, whispering in his ear. “You know humans eat real food before dessert. We’ll go after.” He gives you an unimpressed look but still allows you to drag him into the restaurant. I don’t like playing human. The complaint plays in his mind as you pull him to the bar.
When you are at the bar, the chef approaches you and takes the order. “Welcome.” His grin widens as he sees you’re completely lost on what to order. You aren’t sure what Amaimon would like, and so many choices to choose from. What do you want? “Tourist, yeah? Would you like some recommendations?” It’s always a confidence boost for the chef when customers allow him to help. It means they trust him as a chef. “Yes.” You nod. “Great, so what kind of flavor do you prefer? Something a little more ocean taste? Or something light that you wouldn’t be able to tell right away it came from the ocean.”
You turn to Amaimon, and he shrugs. Since Amaimon is not going to give any input on your order, you go with what the chef recommends. “Both sound good; I’ll trust you.”
Oh no. Something is very chewy and not in a good way; not only is it chewy, but it also has a strong fish taste. I can’t spit it out in front of the chef. The chef who is watching you with interest and wants your opinion of his food. What do I say? How do you kindly tell someone who looks so excited that you don’t like it? “It’s good, but a bit heavier than I like.” “Too chewy?” He grins. “…yes.” You turn to Amaimon, “You try it.” As you lift the sushi to his mouth, he accepts it and finishes it in half the time you do. “Do you like it?” “No.” The chef laughs loudly. “I understand. It’s an acquired taste. I like it now, but when I first tried it, I wasn’t a fan.” Another customer walking in pulls his attention from you and Amaimon, giving you more privacy. “You shouldn’t say-“ his warm lips against yours, stopping your complaint. When he pulls away, you sigh. “What did I tell you about that? We’re in a restaurant and right in front of the bar.” You run your fingers through his hair as you scold him. “I don’t care.” “I’m aware.”
In the middle of telling the chef how great his food is and that you’ll be back, Amaimon tugs you out of the restaurant. One thing on his mind. The dessert shop. Amaimon sits beside you in the booth, wanting to sit beside you instead of across. So, the two of you are sitting in the back booth with your backs to the door. “Do you have a bottomless stomach?” You whisper, placing your palm flat against his stomach. He’s eaten so much since you woke up this morning. He doesn’t acknowledge your question or your hand against him. His attention is fully on the menu before him. It doesn’t take long for him to decide on multiple desserts, so you call the waiter over, giving him the order. “Have you had mango sticky rice? It’s a dessert from Thailand, and it’s so good.” “Thailand?” You spend the next few minutes sharing photos of Thailand, the different cities, food, temples, and beaches. “I want to go so bad.” You gush, staring at the pictures. It’s on your bucket list for after you graduate high school. Will he still be around? Would he go with me? It’s not that far away, so the chances of him still being around you is pretty high, right? Amaimon doesn’t say anything about whether or not he finds it interesting. “I can’t believe you ordered all that. The waiter thought we were waiting for someone else.” Slices of strawberry cake, chocolate cake, a mix berry cake, ice cream filled mochi, and your mango sticky rice. Of course, even with all this cake and ice cream before the demon king, his eyes are locked on your dessert. Always my food. “Seriously?” You shake your head as you spoon some of the sweet coconut milk-flavored rice, lifting it to his lips. “Do you like it?” He nods.
Shopping for the two-piece was quick and easy; within five minutes, you found a cute black top and shorts with colorful designs. It looks like a T-shirt and shorts, almost hiding all your love bites. Almost. “Is there anything else you want to do in town?” You carelessly swing the bag as you question him. You’re too tired for any of the snorkeling activities offered around. “Oh, there is one thing. Big Brother told me we need to get it.” You pause, curious if he told him during their conversation this morning. “He said you need to buy a morning-after pill, and I’m an idiot for not using a condom and need to buy those too.”
You freeze, staring at the idiot in front of you in disbelief. “You told Mephisto?!” You shriek, horrified that he’d tell his older brother. “You don’t tell people.” Embarrassment washes over you, Mephisto knows. What if he tells your parents? “Oh, I didn’t tell him. He called to make sure I used condoms.” What the hell?
“Where do you buy the morning-after pill?”
“I don’t- let’s have this conversation at the hotel, please.”
The moment the door to your room shuts, he questions you. “Why didn’t you buy the pill? Big Brother said you should take it. I thought you didn’t want children now.”
You groan, rubbing your forehead. “I have an IUD. It’s birth control. No pregnancy. No children now.”
He tilts his head in confusion, “Why do you need birth control?” He knows you were a virgin until last night, so why would you need something like that? “Look, I don’t want to sit here and give you a lesson.” You open your phone, typing ‘IUD use other than birth control’ in the search engine, and choose the first one. “Read this. This is why.”
Would it be weird to take a bath? You close the bathroom door behind you and stare at the tub, finding an excuse for why you should take a bath. You hadn’t really properly showered this morning, the shower after the beach was a proper shower, but you really want to get in the bathtub. Amaimon had interrupted last night, and you have so many different options with the oils and bubble baths. I’m gonna take a bath. “Amaimon, I am going to take a bubble bath; do not interrupt this time.” You give him an accusing look. He shrugs, unbothered by your demand request, his attention on the article you shared with him.
“They have flower petals!” You pick up red and pink rose petals meant for the bath. Can I use these with a bubble bath, or are they meant to be used without one? It’s my bath, so I guess it doesn’t matter. As the tub fills with water, you collect a little stash of items you want to add this time: oil, red rose petals, and some flower-scented bubble bath.
The tub fills up quickly, and you slip in, finally having a moment to yourself. The moment, being less than five minutes. “Didn’t I tell you I want a bath alone?” You frown at the demon king standing in the doorway of the bathroom, watching you.
Amaimon holds a manga, looking completely innocent. “But, this says I should wash your back.”
Your eyes narrow at the manga. He’s always got an excuse to do or say something because of damn manga. This manga says I’m your boyfriend, this manga says we should get married, this manga says I should wash your back. “Why don’t you read some manga that says guys aren’t supposed to walk in on girls in the bath or shower.” You speak dryly.
“Oh, I have.”
“And?”
“I want to wash your back.”
“You want to wash my back or you want to seduce me like last night?” You sink down into the water, allowing the bubbles to cover your shoulders.
“Both.”
“Go away, Amaimon; I want to relax.”
The stubborn demon doesn’t move.
“…You can get in if you don’t touch me.”
“How will I wash your back?”
“You can get in if you don’t touch me in a way that messes with my relaxation.”
Amaimon nods and quickly undresses. You shift your position against the edge of the tub to make room for him to sit across from you. With your knees pulled close to your chest, the demon king settles across from you. After a moment of sitting in silence, Amaimon questions you. “How is this relaxing? I’m bored.”
“YOU LET HER LEAVE?!” Katashi stares at his sister and brother-in-law in horror. How could they let their child leave with a demon? “NONE OF THIS WOULD’VE HAPPENED IF YOU LISTENED TO ME.” He stands across from the couple, waving his arms in the air, furious.
Yasu gives Katashi a nasty look. “None of this would’ve happened if you refused to support your fucked up mother bringing _____ here.”
The words hang heavy in the air, and both Katashi and Yume are affected by them. It had been the Aoki family’s fault. It had been their fault. Neither one of them pushed as much as they could’ve to keep ____ from True Cross Academy. “Fine. You’re right.” Katashi speaks bitterly. “But what about everyone ignoring me about Amaimon? I knew there was something not right about Ambrosius.”
“I don’t recall being warned.” Yasu’s words are laced with a threat for Katashi to shut up.
“Sorry, so where is she?”
Yume glares. “That’s none of your concern. You’re here because we need to speak to our mother and sister about Amaimon and his supposed history with our family. We need to get her and Riko out of town. I don’t want them near ____.”
“You don’t know where she is? Amaimon is a demon; he has every reason to lie. Are you even sure that the history isn’t true? What if he’s kidnapped her because of the history and-“
“He doesn’t give a shit about your family. Do you ever shut up? The Aokis are pathetically weak compared to a demon king. Find a way to get your mother and sister out of town. If they’re too stupid to accept the truth, tell them Amaimon has been spotted in another country.”
“Which country?”
Yasu snaps. “Are you really this stupid? Use your imagination.”
Katashi quickly leaves the room after agreeing. He frowns as he steps out of the building. “He’s so worried about my family but not worried about where Amaimon is keeping _____? Fine. If I have to, I’ll find her myself.”
Yume turns to Yasu with a cautious look. “Yasu, you’re starting to scare me.” She admits. She has never seen this side of her husband before. She’s angry too, but she’s not used to this kind of anger from him.
“You don’t truly get it, do you?” Yasu speaks softly. “Even though Mephisto told you, you still haven’t truly grasped it. Amaimon wants _____ as a mate.”
“What? We can stop-“
“No. We can’t. You’d have to kill Amaimon.”
“We can-“
“No.” Yasu stares into Yume’s eyes. “It’s too late. Her fate was sealed the moment Amaimon showed interest in her.” Yasu grasps handfuls of his hair in irritation as he speaks. “Angels mate for life.”
Yume frowns at the odd words. “Amaimon isn’t an angel. He’s a demon.”
“I’m not referring to Amaimon.”
Notes:
Yume is finally about to learn the truth about her husband.
I'm starting my new job tomorrow so updates will slow down a bit.
I decided to add the IUD thing because it's easier and more convenient to write, in my opinion. Like MC, I'm not going to give a long lecture about what birth control is used for other than prevention. I don't want to push why MC has it on you; I'll leave it up to you. And if you aren't aware of its use other than prevention, you either didn't get the education you deserved, or you're a bit young to read this fic.
If you can't think of a reason for her to have it and need one -less cycles-
Chapter 23: Chapter 23
Summary:
There is smut in this chapter, but it's not completely smut.
Smut edited September 1
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“I’m not referring to Amaimon.”
She stares, waiting for Yasu to elaborate. When he doesn’t, she questions, “Are you saying _____ has angel in her blood? You have angel in your blood?” She’s never heard of humans and angels mixing; demons and humans are, unfortunately, not that uncommon. But angels and humans? She hadn’t even been one hundred percent sure angels were real. They’re rarely mentioned in the exorcist community.
“Yes, it’s complicated. I have no details to share. Only that she was doomed when that idiot fell for her, despite his claim; I don’t even know if he realizes it’s love.” Yasu glares at the TV across from him. He wants to destroy everything. Yet, his love for his family ranks higher than his hatred. “Honestly, I think I would’ve been okay with the son Lucifer over Amaimon.” At least Lucifer would show more damn respect and recognize his feelings straight away. Lucifer is stronger than Amaimon; is it really too late?
Yes. It is. And he hates that he has to accept it.
Yume watches, nervous for the first time in her life, to question Yasu, to further push him about who he really is. He’s supposed to have memory loss, so how would he know he’s part angel? “Yasu, maybe we should speak to Mephisto? He should know more, right? Maybe he has more experience with angels, and he should know Amaimon best, right?”
He doesn’t answer, only stands to follow Yume when she decides to take control and see Mephisto.
The walk from the hotel to Mephisto’s office is silent, Yasu not wanting to share more than he has to, and Yume trying to think back if she’s heard any details of angels before. She occasionally glances at him, but he’s just staring blankly ahead each time.
Yasu swings the door to Mephisto’s office open, unbothered to announce. “Yasu! Yume! Please excuse the mess.” The headmaster nods towards the two hobgoblins rolling around on the floor. Yasu snaps out of his inner turmoil at the sight. “Isn’t that _____’s familiar?” Mephisto grins. “Yes! And this here is Behemoth, Amaimon’s familiar. Just practicing for when there are nieces and nephews in the future.” Mephisto smirks at the look on the parents’ faces. “Now, now. Don’t look so horrified; I assume it’ll be at least a few years from now. I don’t even think children have crossed his mind; he’s never mentioned offspring before. Nothing to worry about.” He waves off the parents’ concern, like he had just talked about bad weather coming or something. “So, what can I do for you?”
“Mephisto.” Yasu growls.
“I assure you, there will be no children anytime soon. Though I’m sure they’d be adorable, now I can’t help but imagine how cute they’d be.” He raises his hands to his cheeks dramatically, gushing the last part in excitement. He straightens and grins at the parents. “I apologize, so what brings you here?”
When Yasu doesn’t speak up, Yume takes the lead, sharing the little information Yasu has.
Mephisto stares momentarily, mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the words, “Angel blood…down the line?” He shoots an inconspicuous look at Yasu, whose eyes are narrowed on him. “I see. I didn’t realize there is angel blood…down the line.”
“Bored?” You sigh, leaning back against the tub, not surprised Amaimon is bored after only a moment. Amaimon reaches for your ankle, pulling it towards him. “What are you doing?” You narrow your eyes. “I’m going to massage you.”
“You’re doing what I told you not to do.”
“I am?” he questions. “All I am doing is massaging you. I don’t see the problem.” His thumb presses against a sore muscle in your calf as he speaks. “Ah, it looks like you need a massage.” You let out a gasp, a bit surprised he knows exactly where to add pressure. “You’re too good at this. How often do you give massages?” You avoid eye contact as you question him, suddenly finding the ceiling fascinating. “Oh. This is the first time.” He speaks innocently as if he truly has no experience with it. “Why?” You lower your head with a raised brow, curious why a demon over one thousand years old has never done something like this yet is doing it without being asked now, and he’s good at it. He looks like he might answer for a moment but purses his lips instead.
“Are you going to answer me?”
“No.”
It's not a strange question, so why not just answer it? You sink deeper into the warm water as he massages your sore legs. He remains silent for the remainder of the bath, concentrating on relieving your sore muscles until the water starts to turn cold.
“What do you want for dinner? We can go out.”
Amaimon sits back on the bed, only wearing a white fluffy towel provided by the hotel. At the same time, you have already changed into a thin t-shirt and shorts pajama set. As he bites into one of the pastries bought yesterday, mumbling between mouthfuls that he doesn’t want anything. You glance at the menu provided by the hotel; they have some really good-looking options. “I guess I’ll go out and find something then. Is there anything you want me to get you in town- I’m joking. Don’t look at me like that.” He stares, clearly not amused by your joke. “Stop it, Amaimon. I’ll order some room service; they have a handful of dishes I want to try.” You expect he’d drop it and turn his attention back to his snack. Nope. He’s still staring. Sighing, you approach the bed; as you get closer, you grip his face in your hands. “Stop looking at me like that. I’m not going anywhere without you, especially in a new city.” You lean down, pressing your lips against his. “Stop pouting.” You pinch his waist.
“Pouting?”
“Yes. Are you sure you don’t want anything? Do you want to look at the menu at least?” You question, reaching for the menu while sitting beside Amaimon on the edge of the bed. He sits up, leaning over your shoulder to look at the menu. “Do you want a real meal?”
“No.”
You bite your tongue to keep from laughing at his quick answer. “I can’t believe this menu has so many choices.” It’s ridiculous how many pages the menu has, at least ten. “Not only are there a ton of options, but from so many different countries. American, British, Chinese, obviously Japanese.” You mutter to yourself while scanning each item and its description closely. “I guess I’ll order this. It’s one of my favorites. Amaimon, do you want anything?” You question again to be sure he hasn’t changed his mind at the last minute.
“No.”
Amaimon doesn’t bother getting dressed, even when the staff knock on the door to deliver the food. How is his towel not falling off? Even as he walks across the room and sits down, it stays perfectly in place. “____, what are you staring at?” He questions bluntly. “Sorry, just curious how the towel hasn’t fallen off. I didn’t realize it was possible to secure them that tightly without tying it.” You answer honestly. “Do you want it to fall off?” Kind of. “I just found it odd. Nothing more.” “Okay.”
Once you're situated with your food, you stare down, impressed with the display. I hope the amazing display doesn’t take away from the flavor. As you place it in your mouth, your eyes widen. There’s a hint of seasoning you’ve never experienced in this dish before. What is that? It’s amazing. I wonder if they’d share the recipe or at least what they’ve added. “_____.”
“Yes?”
“Let me try it.”
I should just start offering some of my food to him as soon as the food arrives.
“Amaimon, what do you want to do tomorrow? I wanna try snorkeling; from what I read, this is a great time to see sea turtles.” You slip into bed to Amaimon’s left; as you settle, you can’t keep your eyes from roaming over his body. Why is he still only in a towel? It’s late at night; you’d think he would be dressed by now, but no.
Your gaze lingers on where his abdomen meets the towel. Not thinking, you trace small circles with your fingers just below his belly button. "I still don’t understand how it hasn’t fallen off yet," you murmur as your fingertips glide along the fabric's edge. Despite how much he paid attention to your body, he never asks for anything in return, always saying your pleasure is more important. Curious, you slip your fingers under the towel, mimicking his previous actions with you. But he doesn't react, leaving you unsure what to do next.
When you look up at him, his expression gives away nothing—no guidance of what you should do next. After a moment of silence, with your hand not moving, Amaimon grips your chin, pulling your face close to his. “For the last week, you’ve been questioning me, asking if I want you to return the favor.” He grasps the back of your head, pulling you closer to whisper in your ear. “Once or twice is one thing, but after the second time you continue to ask, it’s not about returning the favor.” With his free hand, he guides yours to a lower position on his body. “You’re so curious. I’ll give you what you want.” He gently bites your ear. He pushes your hand down the rest of the way until you can grip him. With a slow, deliberate movement, he guides your hand in a rhythmic motion, showing you how you should be touching him.
With desire consuming your thoughts, your fingers fumble with the knot on his towel, finally freeing it to reveal his naked form. Your eyes are drawn to his member, standing proudly before you. With a shaky breath, you lean in closer, taking in his musky scent, surprised by the smell of a forest. Keeping your gaze locked on his, you tentatively extend your tongue and press it against the sensitive tip. Amaimon's body tenses in response, but he remains still, allowing you to explore him further. Your tongue swirls around the head, becoming accustomed to the salty taste and velvety texture.
With newfound confidence, you part your lips wider, slowly taking more of him into your mouth. The throbbing heat of his member pulsates against your tongue, sending a shiver down your spine. His breath catches, and for a moment, you’re worried that he might stop your actions. Instead, he releases a low moan, urging you to continue.
A sense of power surges through you as you feel his reaction. You slowly slide your lips further down his rigid length, feeling the weight and heat of him in your mouth. Amaimon's fingers grasp your hair with a possessive force, tangling in your hair as he moans. His unique taste is an odd mix of sweet and salty, filling your senses with a mix of desire and satisfaction. As you continue to move, his hips start to thrust softly, and you do your best to match his rhythm. His moans grow louder and more demanding, sending shivers of excitement down your spine as his grip tightens in your hair. His movements become more intense, building towards his release. "No." He groans, pulling you from him and replacing your mouth with your hand before pulling you into a passionate kiss. Amaimon shudders slightly before releasing onto your hand. You stare up at him with confusion as he allows you to pull away. "Why?" You pant, wiping your hand against the towel beneath him, trying to catch your breath.
Amaimon shakes his head, “Lie on your back.” He roughly pushes you down while tossing the soiled towel off the bed. “And take off your clothes.” Your hands tremble as you slowly remove your clothes, leaving you exposed under Amaimon's intense gaze. His eyes roam over your body with a possessive hunger. A shiver of anticipation runs through your body as he lowers his head, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh in a teasing manner. You can feel his warm breath on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Amaimon," you whine. He keeps eye contact with you, looking annoyingly amused while you squirm as he continues his torturous path, kissing and nibbling at every bit of your skin except for where you want him most. Your hips involuntarily lift off the bed, seeking contact with his mouth. He firmly holds your hips down, digging his thumbs heavily against your hip bones, the feeling of his claws causing you to gasp. “Asshole.” You hiss, annoyed with the demon king’s teasing. Finally, his tongue finds its way to your clit, and a jolt of pleasure shoots through you, causing you to writhe beneath him. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. You tug on his hair tightly, chasing the feeling, but just as you're about to reach the peak, he suddenly pulls away, leaving you squirming and whining at the loss of his touch. “Are you ready, my queen?” His words send shivers down your spine, Queen? You’re unable to focus on his words as he lines himself up with you; his hot breath tickles your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Anticipation and desire course through your body as you dig your nails into his back. Slowly, he pulls back to look into your eyes, searching for something. "I see, not yet," he mumbles to himself before gradually sinking into you. His claws lightly trail from your shoulders to your waist, sending electrifying sensations through your skin. Your hips instinctively rise, seeking friction once more, but he forcefully holds them down onto the mattress, eyes fixated on you. He teasingly retreats until just the tip is inside of you again. "Please," you beg, frustrated with the king. He enters you once more with agonizing slowness, denying you any control over the pace or depth. "I need you," you gasp out, causing something to snap in Amaimon. He lets out a primal growl and picks up speed, still holding your hips down as he focuses solely on how you feel wrapped tightly around him. In a moment of weakness, his grip falters, and you take advantage by lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. Amaimon's growls mix with your moans as he lifts your right leg and places it over his shoulder, delving even deeper into you. “Amaimon.” You gasp his name, not having expected this new sensation. The feeling is much more intense than he has gotten you used to. Amaimon pauses, staring into your eyes with an unreadable expression. He searches your eyes and expression for discomfort. When he finds what he’s looking for, he lowers his head, sinking his fangs into an untouched spot on your neck while your body trembles in ecstasy. The feeling of your muscles clenching around him triggers something different within him, and he starts to lose control. His sharp bites send a jolt of pleasure through your entire body, causing your toes to curl and your breath to hitch. His grip on your thigh and waist is tight; you know there will be even more bruises tomorrow, but the pleasure coming from his teeth sinking into your throat keeps your focus solely on him and how he’s making you feel. As the heat builds within you, your grip on Amaimon tightens, your body responding to his every touch and movement. Your muscles contract with increasing intensity, a sign of your impending orgasm. A deep growl escapes from Amaimon as you come undone, his fangs still embedded in your shoulder as he reaches his own peak, filling you completely. The pleasure and sensation overwhelm you, leaving you breathless in his arms.
Gently, he pulls out, then leans down to focus on your chest and neck, where multiple new bite marks are scattered.
“Amaimon?”
“Yes?” He runs his tongue along one of the marks, cleaning the blood leaking from it.
You bite your lower lip and turn away. It was bedroom talk. He didn’t mean it. Despite telling yourself that, you can’t help but be caught up on those words. My queen. “Nothing.”
The next morning, you feel even more sore than you had the day before. You sigh, reaching for his tail, thumping on the other side of him. You lean forward, lying halfway on the demon to reach it. You gently run your fingers through the fluffy end—it’s so soft. A sudden thought appears in your mind. “Amaimon?”
“What?”
“I noticed with Rin his body changed when you pulled the sword from the scabbard. He has a demonic form. Do you have a different form?” You reach for his ear, gently tracing its outline. Despite him appearing demon now, his appearance isn’t quite as demonic as Rin’s seemed to be at the amusement park. Rin had extremely elongated ears when he changed; usually, his ears are the same size as Amaimon’s. Just not quite as pointed. “Yes.”
“Can I see?”
“No.”
He flips, placing you under him, staring boredly. “What did you want to do today? Can you stand?” He smoothly changes the subject.
You lift your left leg; dull pain runs through it. “I’m not sure.” You admit, with a sigh. “My body hurts.” A flash of humor flashes in his eyes before he leans down to place his lips on yours. “Sorry.” He’s not sorry. You roll your eyes as he nuzzles into your neck, gently kissing certain spots. “Do you want me to kiss it better? I read that works.” He sounds annoyingly serious. “No, but some pain medicine will help it feel better.” You run your hand into his hair, tugging his head back when his fangs brush over a sensitive mark. “Where do I get it?”
“A pharmacy. Do you know what a pharmacy is?” You groan in pain when he accidentally brushes against a bruise on your side as he lifts himself off you. “Where humans get medicine? It is where Big Brother told me to get the morning-after pill. Are you sure you don’t need one?”
“Amaimon, shut up.”
He pokes a sore spot. “Only pain medicine?” You nod.
Once he’s left, you stand or rather attempt to stand. The moment you put all your weight on your legs, pain shoots through them, causing you to fall back into the bed. Once again, you lift your body, pushing yourself to stand. This time, you don’t lose balance from unexpected pain. I need to use the bathroom and take a shower.
God, I look like shit. Your hair is a mess, with knots and sweat causing your hair to be matted to your head. The bags under your eyes and Amaimon’s marks aren’t helping your appearance. Is he still interested in me looking like this? You scrunch your nose at the thought, yet he had no problem kissing you this morning and didn’t look disgusted. You either were standing there longer than you thought, or Amaimon didn’t bother walking and coming back to the room at an average human pace. Probably the latter. “Did you get the medicine?” You question as he appears behind you in the mirror. “Yes, and they told me you need this too.” He lifts the bag in the air, containing who knows what. Did they scam him? “What is it?”
Amaimon pulls something in a bottle from the bag. “It’ll help your sore muscles.” He places something that looks like it might be homemade or from a small private business selling similar items on the counter in front of you. “You told them I had sore muscles?” Behind you, Amaimon wraps his arms around your waist. “Why are you clinging to me when I look this awful? You grimace at your reflection; with the demon behind you, it really sets in how awful you look. “I thought I told you I’ll tie you to the bed to show you how attracted I am to you.” He threatens while lifting his hand to poke at a sensitive bruise on your shoulder.
“You were talking about if I look like an angel.”
Amaimon shrugs. “I will tie you down right now if you’re worried that I’m not attracted to you. Do you want me to show you?”
When you don’t answer, his tone completely changes to the uninterested one you're used to. “The man said, “Make a hot bath and pour half.”
“You interrupted the last two times I got in the bath. Are you going to this time, too?”
“No. I don’t want to break you.”
“Okay, but I need to rinse off first.” You sigh, pushing him away. “Can you bring me some water so I can take this medicine?” Amaimon stares at you momentarily before going into the bedroom for a water bottle.
You sit on the tub's edge, watching Amaimon attempt to take care of you by drawing you a bath and adding the medicine meant to help you heal. “That’s way too hot. Are you trying to cook me?” His brow slightly furrows at your comment. You would've missed it if you hadn’t been staring at his face. “No.” He fixes the temperature before pushing you into the tub. “What exactly did you tell them so they could recommend this?” You relax in the water, sinking until it covers your shoulders. “I told them you're sore.”
“In what way did you tell them I’m sore.”
“They said to try to stay in the bath at least forty minutes.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Bye.”
You glare into his back as he steps out of the room, leaving the bathroom door open as he does. “Amaimon.”
“Do you want breakfast?”
“Amaimon.”
“I will order it.”
There’s no way he gave them more details than he should’ve when telling them I needed pain medicine, right? You sink even more, so the water is just under your nose. Yeah, he told them.
Oddly enough, the medicine they convinced Amaimon to buy seems to work, though that might mainly be because of the hot water. Thirty minutes later Amaimon appears to check in on you. His expression turns into a slight frown at the sight. He’s careful to hide the fury he’s feeling from appearing on his face. However, his body language is different. He grasps your wrist tightly, pulling you closer, causing water to spill from the tub. “It’s lighter.” The marks around your neck and chest have lightened considerably. “What’s lighter?” “The marks.” Confused, you lift your leg to examine your thighs. The bruises left last night look almost healed and don’t appear as received last night. “Well, you did say it’s medicine.” You answer, wondering what they could use to create something that heals so quickly.
“I’ll kill them.”
“What? No! Eat breakfast first; you’re not going without me. I want to ask them about it.”
The pharmacy he found is a small shop, old and worn, something you’d easily pass over as a visitor looking for some medication. How did he even notice this place? “You’re not killing anyone.” You squeeze his hand warningly before stepping into the shop. “Hi! Welcome!” A young woman, just slightly older than you, grins happily as she welcomes you. “Hi, um, my boyfriend came here earlier this morning for some medicine, and you recommended something homemade.” The woman blushes but keeps a professional appearance. Your nails dig into Amaimon’s hand. So, he had shared more information than needed. “Yes, if you were able to use it, I hope it worked. He- he said you were accidentally bruised before…“You shake your head. “Sorry, he- yeah. Anyway, it worked really well. Some bruises are completely gone. I was wondering what’s in it.”
Her facial expression completely changes, and she leans forward, eyes wide in disbelief. Lowering her voice to an excited whisper despite nobody else being in the shop. “You’re exorcists! Oh my god, I assumed- I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I- anyway! It’s so nice to meet you. My grandfather will be so happy; he’s told me my whole life about exorcists and this medicine for them.” As she speaks, she lifts a bottle. “I can’t wait to share with my grandfather you came. So, our shop is still on the list for exorcists to get the supplies they need? My family used to be priests, but along the line, they stopped practicing, and it’s completely faded out other than me and my grandfather.” You stare at the woman awkwardly, wondering if she will say anything else before you can speak. After a moment passes, you question her. “Special medicine? What do you mean?”
“You don’t know?” Her brow furrows. “It’s a medicine that can heal injuries caused by a demon. It can heal other things, too, which is why I sell it to normal people; it works well. But with injuries from demons, it works quickly. Is there a demon nearby?”
You shake your head. “No, it was…taken care of. Nothing to worry about.” You can almost feel the fury coming off in waves from Amaimon. “Thank you for the medicine,” Your eyes flicker to Amaimon. “actually, could I get a few more bottles?”
“Yes! Of course, how many do you need?”
You stare hard at the woman, trying your best to ignore the eyes burning into the side of your head. “These four will be enough.” You lift the ones she had on display. “Are you sure? We have more in the back.”
“I’m sure. How much will it be?”
“What? No, I can’t charge you when you were protecting us from a demon last night.”
Notes:
I need a lot more practice writing smut
Almost MC needs practice🫢
Chapter 24: Chapter 24
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
You shake your head. “No, it was…taken care of. Nothing to worry about.” You can almost feel the fury coming off in waves from Amaimon. “Thank you for the medicine,” Your eyes flicker to Amaimon. “Actually, could I get a few more bottles?”
“Yes! Of course, how many do you need?”
You stare hard at the woman, trying your best to ignore the eyes burning into the side of your head. “These four will be enough.” You lift the ones she had on display. “Are you sure? We have more in the back.”
“I’m sure. How much will it be?”
“What? No, I can’t charge you when you were protecting us from a demon last night.”
Protecting them from a demon last night. You refuse to look her in the eyes. “I uh- right. I still insist on paying.” The woman stubbornly shakes her head. “No.”
Being intimate with a demon does not fall under protecting others. “Pay her however much it cost.” You whisper to the demon that you protected them from. The woman has no time to respond when Amaimon drops a handful of bills on the counter while you quickly leave.
“I don’t know what’s worse, her assuming we slept together or her thinking we’re exorcists.” You sigh, leaning against Amaimon. “Imagine if she knew I was sleeping with the demon that she is under the impression I was protecting her town from last night.”
Amaimon doesn’t pay much attention to your words; his focus is on your skin. “They’re all almost gone.” He tugs your shirt collar down, unhappy with the clear skin. It seems to have healed even more within the last hour. “You’re acting like a child.” You slap his hand away. “I’m still a little sore, but I can walk around. This means I can walk around town and probably swim.” Excitement starts to bubble in you. “I’m going to go snorkeling. I need my bathing suit.” As you say those words, a taxi comes around the corner. “Let’s go.”
Guess it didn’t completely heal everything. The handprints on your waist have lightened but are still prominent. You brush your hand over the one on your right hip. “Amaimon, even the scar on my arm has lightened.” You twist your arm, observing the now much lighter scar. “I can’t believe it works this well.” You poke at the scar, pleasantly surprised. Still, I’ll have to wear the bathing suit that covers most of them.
“I hope there are sea turtles. That’ll be really cool.” You grin while scrolling through your phone; there are so many options: doing it by yourself or having an instructor. “I’m guessing you don’t want an instructor?” You wave your phone in the air, showing off the list of companies and what they offer. Amaimon doesn’t bother answering you; his focus is on a bag of chips instead. You wonder for a moment if he’s listening at all. “This one is hot and around my age.”
“I will kill him.”
Selective hearing, huh? You shrug, “I’m kidding. He’s not my type. Recently, my type has been narrowed down to only a Demon King of Earth. Odd.” You toss the cookie print bathing suit to Amaimon. “Change into this, I’ll call the car.”
The ride to the business is short. After researching different companies, you choose to go with the ones with the best reviews. Others seem to push people into renting and even purchasing items that aren’t needed. There is even one business with multiple one-star reviews, calling them scam artists.
As you step out of the car, the salty sea air fills your lungs, invigorating you with a sense of excitement. Amaimon follows behind you, looking less than thrilled about the upcoming adventure. You approach the registration desk and are greeted by a bubbly tour guide who hands you both waivers to sign.
Amaimon eyes the waiver before scrawling his signature on the paper without bothering to read it. You check to see what name he’s signed, making sure it’s Ambrosius. “You’re supposed to read it.” You nudge him in the side while reading your own. Confirming there isn’t anything sketchy, you sign it, smiling as you hand it back to the guide before she leads you toward an area filled with different snorkeling equipment, going over everything with you before allowing you to choose your mask, snorkel, and fins. You grab a set with your favorite color and pass Amaimon a darker green set that matches his hair.
“We probably should’ve bought this before we came. I think we just paid triple what we would’ve paid at a shop. You tug the mask over your head as you speak. “You aren’t going to wear yours? You’re supposed to wear the mask so you can see underwater.” Waste of money, too. You slip on the blue fins that the woman had recommended for your first dive. “I’ve never swam with these before.” You sit on an edge, kicking the fins in the water, and concern starts to set in that it’ll be more of a hindrance. “If I start to drown, you’ll save me, right?” Amaimon shrugs. “If you drown, we can go to Gehenna.”
“I’m going to ask for an instructor.”
“No.”
“So, you won’t let me drown?”
“I want more cookies and cake; I won’t let you drown.” He speaks honestly, it’s one of the main reasons he has to keep you in Assiah at the moment.
“That’s nice to know, I guess.” You sigh as you slip into the cool water, struggling for a moment to get used to the fins. You take a deep breath and immerse yourself fully into the water, feeling the coolness enveloping you. You adjust the mask over your eyes, marveling at the underwater world around you. Amaimon doesn’t follow. Instead, he sits and watches you from the ledge, uninterested in swimming. A sense of peace washes over you as you glide through the crystal-clear water, staring at the vibrant coral reefs and colorful fish darting around you.
Coming up for air, you see Amaimon still sitting on the ledge, staring at you expressionless. “What are you thinking?” You question him. “It looks boring. I don’t know why you want to do this.” He answers honestly. “Look at all the fish through; they’re so pretty.” You point at a school of fish passing under you. “Don’t you think so?” “No.”
You chuckle at his response, shaking your head at his lack of enthusiasm for the beauty surrounding you. Standing waist-deep in the water, you watch a sea turtle glide gracefully past you. “Look! Amaimon, it’s a sea turtle!” Excitement fills you as the creature swims by you.
He remains unfazed, his attention diverted as he reaches into a pocket of his shorts and pulls out a pack of cookies, eating them nonchalantly. With a shrug, you redirect your attention to the mesmerizing underwater world, swimming closer to where the sea turtles navigating the waters.
An hour passes when you decide you’re done. It’s nearing lunchtime; you’re hungry. “Amaimon, I’m hungry.” You float in the middle of the ocean, staring at him. “Are you hungry?”
Amaimon looks up from his snacks, seemingly considering your question for a moment. "I could eat," he replies while stuffing a cookie in his mouth. You swim back to the shore towards him and emerge from the water.
You end up at a beachside restaurant, the sound of crashing waves providing a soothing backdrop to your meal. Amaimon seems content as he devours his food, not showing much interest in the view or atmosphere around you. You watch him for a moment, amused by his single-minded focus on satisfying his hunger. He doesn’t care at all about the location. The table you’re sitting at looks like something you’d see in a travel magazine: a beautiful view overlooking the ocean. Yet this weirdo in front of you only focuses on the chocolate cake he ordered. You grin, twirling some pasta around your fork. “Anything else you want to do or get while we’re in town?”
“Cake.”
I don’t know why I bothered asking. “You’re eating cake now. So, we can go back after you finish?”
The look he tosses you has you biting your tongue. Your comment isn’t as funny to him as it is to you. “It isn’t like I can stop you going to the bakery anyway.”
The bakery he chooses is the same one you visited before; the same staff member welcomes you back while questioning how the cake was. “Great we-“
“I want this strawberry one.” Amaimon cuts you off, pointing at a cake just slightly smaller than the last one but large enough that it’s meant for a party. The woman blinks, confusion spread over her face. “Oh. Another party?” Crap, I should’ve told him not to buy another cake, or we should’ve gone to a different bakery. “Ambrosius-“ You start but close your mouth. What are you going to argue? It isn’t like he won’t finish it all by tomorrow night. “Could you please pack it up?” you say with a resigned smile. As you leave the bakery with the oversized cake in tow, you can't help but shake your head at his insatiable appetite for sweets. This is going to be your life forever; I wonder if he’ll start preferring cakes and different sweets from a bakery instead of having me bake all the time. The weight of the thought settles heavily on your chest, entwined with a bit of jealousy at the idea of him preferring another’s over yours.
When you return to your shared room, Amaimon’s attention is entirely on the cake, cutting into it as soon as he takes it from the box. Not only is the cake decorated with strawberries, but you’re surprised to see it’s also a pink strawberry-flavored cake. “Is it good?” You’ve never made a strawberry cake; would he want you to bake him one at home if he likes it? Should you start looking up recipes? But what if theirs is better than yours will be? They’re professionals, right? Trained with a lot of experience, so their cakes must be better. Amaimon drops his fork, watching your internal battle.
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
I can’t believe I feel jealous over him liking someone’s cake. A look of annoyance crosses your face as you scold yourself for being jealous over something so stupid. “There might be a bakery near the school that can make a similar cake.”
“No, you will make it.”
“I’ve never made one like this before.” You admit awkwardly. What if you baked one for him and messed it up? This one from the bakery looks so good. It looks like one of those things that just can’t be topped. Amaimon cuts through your thoughts of doubt. “Yours will be better.” He lifts a forkful of icing as he speaks. You don’t have a chance to reply when Amaimon quickly strides over to you, shoving the icing into your mouth. “It’s not sweet enough.” Your eyes widen; you hadn’t expected a fork of icing to be shoved in your mouth. The strawberry icing melts in your mouth; it’s perfect, the texture and the flavor. Perfect for you. But he’s also right; it’s not nearly as sweet as he’s used to receiving from you. It needs more sugar and cream. Maybe add a fresh strawberry puree to the icing? You step around him to try to cake itself; it’s incredibly light but almost a bit dry and seems to be missing something. “You’d prefer something slightly denser than this and moister. This is a little dry.” You can see why he thinks yours will be better if you bake it according to his preferences.
You drop to a chair by the table as you pick apart the cake in your mind. The layers have no icing between them, only fresh strawberries. If they had added the icing or even a type of strawberry filling between the layers, it would’ve helped. “I’ll make you one that you’ll prefer when we return.” Though the icing, in your opinion, is perfect, you’ll have to tweak it, maybe switch to a buttercream for Amaimon’s sweet tooth. You reach for the notepad containing the resort’s logo beside the cake box, writing down your ideas to avoid forgetting anything. Amaimon sits across from you at the table, shoving more cake in his mouth while you shoot out ideas to him. “You want more strawberry flavor in the cake itself, right?”
Amaimon nods. You know exactly what he wants, picking up all these small details about what he likes and doesn’t like. An attentive mate.
While scrolling you come across something. “Have you had lemon curd before?” An amazing-looking cake stares back at you from your phone’s screen. It’s the exact color of pink you’d been looking for in the cake itself, though this recipe includes lemon curd in the layers. “Look at this!” You practically jump in the king’s lap, excitement rushing over you. It looks so good. “It’s a strawberry cake with strawberry cream cheese icing and lemon curd.” Amaimon wraps his arms around you, keeping you from toppling over as you show him the recipe. His golden eyes don’t change as he stares at the recipe, almost looking uninterested. “Do you think you’d like it? If not, I can leave out the lemon curd; the only lemon flavor is between the layers. I’d just use the icing instead, it should taste amazing both ways. Do you like lemon?” During your little proposal, Amaimon’s attention is pulled towards a particular spot on your throat, the right side, just above your collarbone. It’s much lighter than it had been this morning, seemingly having lightened even more over the last couple of hours.
Without hesitation, his sharp fangs sink into that spot, causing a mix of pleasure and pain to shoot through you. You let out a gasp as Amaimon sucks at the spot, ensuring to leave a visible mark. He pulls away after a moment, watching the blood trickle from the wound before using his tongue to clean it. “Are you drinking my blood? You’re supposed to be a demon, not a vampire.” You moan out as he runs his tongue over the wound once more. “I’m not doing it to drink your blood; I’m making it more visible.” He explains, knowing that a hickey accompanying the bite will make it stand out even more.
The feeling of his fangs on your skin leaves you breathless and slightly lightheaded. "You're so possessive," you say with a sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair. "I've told you before, it's not appropriate." You bite back a moan as he massages your waist with his hands. Why do I feel even more sensitive all of a sudden? Your body always responds strongly to his touch, but this time, it feels like fire against your skin. You struggle to regain control of your senses and focus back on your phone. What is wrong with me?
The phone drops from your hand as an unusual impulse rises within you, urging you to return the favor and sink your teeth into his throat. You lift your head, tugging down the collar of his striped shirt. His flesh is hot against your mouth, but no matter how much force you use, you’re unable to break the demon’s skin, leaving only indentations. So instead, you follow his example and suck on the skin of neck. Amaimon groans in pleasure, writhing beneath you in a way you’ve never seen from him before. “What’s wrong with you?” You whisper, running your fingers over the red mark you’ve left. Confusion over his reaction pulls your attention away from his throat. Why is he reacting so strongly?
Amaimon gasps, breathing heavily under you. “Demons are more sensitive with their new mate.”
“What?” You jump away, putting a good distance between the two of you. Disbelief quickly replaces anything else you had been feeling.
He stares at you with hazy eyes. “It seems angels are too.”
“I’m not your mate.” Why is he referring to you as his mate? “We haven’t-“ Haven’t what? I don’t know anything about demons and how they mate. There has to be a process, right? It can’t just be from being intimate. That wouldn’t make sense.
His eyes start to clear, showing a different emotion. Frustration. “Your denial is becoming irritating. You are my mate.” Amaimon snaps at you, his usual aloof personality changing to something else. “I take care of you; you’ve chosen me over your own family, you’re tied to me for eternity, you melt at my touch.” He stands, striding over to you. “If you’re not my mate, what are you?”
“Amaimon.” You raise your arms in a defensive manner, feeling a surge of unease. “I don’t know anything about demons and their mating rituals. I assume it’s like marriage, right? I’m not being married or mated, whatever it’s supposed to be, to someone who doesn’t love me.”
“Love?”
Notes:
Without giving too much away, it is NOT what it seems. Amaimon isn't a liar, but he's not being a truther at the moment lol
Also, side note: As I was writing the scene about Amaimon buying a whole cake just for himself and its silliness, who buys a full birthday-style cake for themselves, right? My coworker across the room calls out, 'Hey, do you want some cake?' Depending on the slices, it's a smallish birthday cake, maybe for 7-8 people. Both me and the coworker beside me see the cake and ask if it's her birthday. Are they having a little party? Because it's only us three out of like the ten usually in the office. 'No, I was just in the mood for cake, but this was the smallest size they have.' lmao so ironic as I write about Amaimon getting a cake for himself. Also, I don't know about Japan, but from what I've seen they look similar to the Chinese style, which is IMO bland and kind of dry. I feel like Amaimon and anyone with a big sweet tooth would prefer MC's cake over that.
Chapter 25: Chapter 25
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Amaimon.” You raise your arms in a defensive manner, feeling a surge of unease. “I don’t know anything about demons and their mating rituals. I assume it’s like marriage, right? I’m not being married or mated, whatever it’s supposed to be, to someone who doesn’t love me.”
“Love?”
“Yes! Love, you know, that emotion that’s important to humans when finding a long-term partner.” You give him an exasperated look. “Let’s not forget that I’m only eighteen. I’m not- what are you doing?” Three different books appear in Amaimon’s hands. “So, you do love me?” He questions while flipping through one of the books. “I didn’t say that; what are you doing?”
“Maybe I should ask Big Brother…” He mumbles to himself, seemingly ignoring your question.
“Amaimon.”
“Yes?”
“Are you seriously looking up information about love in some stupid manga right now?”
“…No.”
You stare at him in disbelief. “Fine.” You shrug. “Do you love me?”
He stares at you for a long moment, and you wait for him to spout something about not knowing or even saying no. He’s so dumb when it comes to emotions; even if maybe he kind of started feeling something stronger than interest, there’s no way he’d-
“Oh. Yes.” He nods.
Your mind goes blank as you stare at the idiot in front of you. “Huh?”
His tone sounds like he’s bored. “I love you.”
“I- no. You don’t. Amaimon, you can’t say it like that! You can’t say it at all.”
He drops to manga to summon a different book. You watch in confusion as he flips through the pages. “An intense feeling of deep affection.” He opens it, pointing to something on the page. It’s a dictionary. “Humans are annoying with their need of words. It doesn’t matter; you’re still my mate, regardless of whether I’m using the correct words or not.” He drops the book and approaches you once more.
“I never agreed to it.”
Frustration consumes him, contorting his face into a mask of anger. "Why can't you grasp the idea of eternity?" he growls with tightly clenched teeth. "This isn't some teenage romance that will fade after a few years, _____. This is permanent.” Amaimon grasps your jaw, “Love? One simple word that’s meant to cover everything. Brother insists I only mark you. It’s similar to engagement for humans. But you have so much trouble accepting I want you. Convincing yourself that it isn’t true.” His expression becomes blank once more. “You’re right. You’re not my mate. But you will be by the end of this week. There seems to be no other way for you to understand.”
You stare, frozen. Unsure how to reply. Mephisto told him only to mark me? Like a fiancée? But he wants to skip that because I- You frown at the demon in front of you. He’s upset you’re still unsure, that you doubt it’ll be forever. It’s hard to imagine, though, someone like him wanting forever to be with you, who he’s known almost three weeks now. Less than a month, and he’s one hundred percent sure? “I’m sorry, it’s just less than a month, and it’s kind of hard to imagine you are so sure you want me…forever.”
“Stop looking at it from a human perspective. Time holds no meaning for us. I’m a demon. Within a few days of meeting you, I knew you would be my mate. Why do you think I made the contract?”
“Within a few days, you knew?”
Amaimon shrugs. “Yes.”
Katashi’s eyes widen at what he’s being told. “So, you and ____ are part angel?” The three of them sit in an unoccupied living room in Mephisto’s home while waiting for the purple-haired demon.
Yasu scoffs. “Never mind that. Did you get rid of your mother and sister?” The last thing he needs is Yume’s crazy family members trying to harm _____ after learning she’s in a relationship with the green-haired bastard.
The younger man frowns. “They didn’t believe me, so I told them he had been spotted in Europe; Mephisto confirmed what I said, so they’re somewhere in Northern Europe searching for Amaimon. I still don’t understand why you approve of the relationship. He’s a demon.” Katashi stares at his sister, hoping she’ll agree with him and that they can find some way to exorcise Amaimon. Maybe if they get enough exorcists together, they’ll be able to get rid of him forever. “Even if she thinks she likes him, there’s no way he has real feelings for her.” Katashi goes on and on about how toxic demons are and how toxic Amaimon will be to _____. “He can never love her. Demons can’t love.”
“Now that’s rude.” Mephisto appears in a puff of pink smoke. “We can love, I love a lot of things.” He grins as he lists different things he loves about Assiah. “And, of course, I love humans! You’re such interesting creatures.”
“Mephisto.” Yume stares up at the purple-haired demon. “Have you found them?”
“Nope! Honestly, I haven’t looked. But Amaimon gave me his word, and I trust him. As long as nothing upsets him, it’ll be fine.” Mephisto shrugs, unbothered; they have more important things to discuss than the location of Amaimon and you. “I do need to speak to you about something else that is more important. It’s the Illuminati-“
Yasu interrupts. “Lucifer’s plans are not more important than my child. I don’t give a damn about his plans.” Yume stares at Yasu, confused. “Lucifer? What plans are you talking about?” She hadn’t heard about the Illuminati in years, “Yasu, why do you know all this?”
“It must be his angel blood down the line giving him all the answers,” Mephisto speaks sarcastically and shoots Yasu a look. “You know, I investigated it. It seems you share the blood with an angel named Cassian.”
Yasu snaps. “Stop talking.”
Confusion crosses Yume’s face. “You don’t want to learn more?”
“Not here. No.”
Yasu's tension is palpable as he tries to deflect the conversation away from his angelic heritage. It hangs heavy in the air, adding more layers of complexity to an already tangled web of relationships and secrets.
"Ah, family dynamics. Always so intriguing," Mephisto muses, his tone light despite the gravity of the situation.
Yume narrows her eyes, a mix of concern and suspicion flickering across her features. "What has the Illuminati been planning? How is Lucifer here? Shouldn’t demons as strong as Lucifer not be able to enter Assiah?"
Mephisto's smile widens, but there's a sharpness to it that sends a shiver down Yume's spine. "In theory, yes, it’s complicated.” He waves the questioning away. “Luckily, we still have time to prepare- but first.”
Katashi's gaze meets his. "The Vatican has a crucial task for you. You'll be partnering with Yukio Okumura." He motions towards the door. "He should already be at the cram school, waiting for you." He skillfully deceives the man, hoping to get rid of him quickly.
“Let’s get to the truth; we need to talk. I’m sure _____ is aware of the truth; are you really going to continue keeping your wife in the dark?” He questions Yasu.
Yasu feigns confusion. “What are you talking about, Mephisto?”
“You're still going to maintain your deceitful facade? Well, let me enlighten you about Amaimon. He has no issue with telling the truth; he revealed everything about who he was and answered all of_____ ‘s questions just days after they met." Mephisto leans forward, resting his chin on his intertwined fingers as he gives Yasu a malicious smile. "He knows your true identity, Yasu. I'm sure he's already informed her, especially since it works in his favor when it comes to ______'s lifespan. It probably puts her at ease knowing they can be together forever without one aging while the other remains unchanged. If you doubt me, I can call Amaimon and have you ask him yourself."
“Yasu, what is he talking about?”
The man shrugs. “I don’t know.”
Mephisto's expression twists into a scowl. "Do you want to know why ____ turned to Amaimon? It's because she can't trust either of you. Yume, you lied about being an exorcist and didn't bother to warn her where she was being sent. And Yasu, well...let's just say there are many things you haven't been truthful about. Starting with your name."
Yume's voice is filled with anger as she growls, knowing Mephisto is planning something. "I don't know what game you're trying to play, but I already know that isn't his real name. I gave him that name when I found him because he couldn't remember anything.” She glances at Yasu. “Leave my family alone. You and your brother can both leave us alone and go fuck yourselves. I couldn't care less if _____ has a small amount of angel blood in her. After multiple generations, there's no way it could affect her. Once she returns, you'll never see any of us again." She turns to Yasu with desperation in her eyes. "I know you said angels mate for life, but I refuse to believe she has enough angel blood it will affect her and tie her to Amaimon forever."
The demon king watches carefully, allowing Yasu the opportunity to speak and reveal the truth.
Yasu remains silent, his gaze cold and unyielding as he stares into Yume's eyes. “Yasu?” She speaks his name cautiously, sensing that something is off.
“He has no memory loss; he knows exactly who he is.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Yasu states.
A chuckle escapes Mephisto’s lips, slowly turning into a fit of laughter that brings tears to his eyes. “Cassian, I sometimes wonder how you and Father became such close friends. You’re both incredibly stubborn,” he manages to say through his laughter.
“Mephisto, stop this nonsense,” Yasu speaks, voice devoid of emotion. “This is not the time for this.” But Mephisto merely smirks, enjoying the tension in the room. “Oh, but it is dear Cassian. The truth always has a way of coming to light, doesn’t it?” His tone is laced with mischief and a hint of malice.
Yume’s eyes widen in shock, Cassian? But Cassian is the ancestor, right? “You said yourself, Mephisto, that you found that he shares the blood with an angel named Cassian, an ancestor. Yasu is human.”
“Is he?”
“Yes! There is nothing angelic about my husband; he doesn’t like people. Aren’t angels meant to love people? Care for them?”
Mephisto's grin widens as he leans back, crossing his legs nonchalantly. "Ah, but my dear Yume, angels are not always what they seem. Have you forgotten Satan was an angel?"
Yasu's facade cracks slightly, a flicker of anger dancing across his features at Mephisto's words. The demon king's eyes shift to him, a glint of triumph shining in their depths.
Yume’s eyes turn towards Yasu, who looks oddly calm "Yasu," Yume's voice is laced with a mixture of confusion and concern, "is this true? Are you...Cassian?"
The tension in the room is almost tangible as all eyes turn to Yasu, awaiting his response. For a moment, silence reigns, broken only by the rustle of fabric as Yasu shifts uncomfortably.
Finally, he speaks, his voice low and tinged with an edge of defiance. "Yes, I am.” The admission hangs heavy in the air. Yume’s eyes widen in shock, disbelief etched across her features as she struggles to process this revelation.
“Cassian,” she breathes out, testing the syllables as if they held the key to unlock the mysteries surrounding her husband. “But...how?” Her voice wavers, emotions swirling within her gaze—confusion, betrayal, and a sliver of fear.
Mephisto watches the scene unfold with a predatory glint in his eyes, relishing the chaos he has sown among them. “Oh, the tangled webs we weave,” he muses softly, savoring the moment as truths long buried come to light.
“Why? Why keep such a secret from me?” Anger starts to swirl in with the other emotions, consuming Yume.
Cassian’s jaw tightens at her questioning. “Why? Would you have believed me? I told you the night we met to leave me alone, yet you kept pushing. Of course, I kept it a secret from you; angels don’t go around announcing themselves; we aren’t really meant to mingle with humans.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when we had ____? I should be aware my child is not completely human.”
“Children born of angels and humans are killed.”
“W-what?”
“Nephilim are usually killed within their first year of life,” he states coldly. The words strike fear into Yume's heart as she tries to process what he is saying.
He continues with an indifferent tone, almost robotic in nature, explaining that while it is fine, though frowned upon, for angels to have relationships with humans, bearing children with them is strictly forbidden. The fact that their daughter would be killed simply because of her mixed heritage is just as terrifying as his emotionless explanation.
“Who kills them?”
“Angels.”
The revelation hangs heavy in the air, each word a sharp blade cutting through the fragile fabric of her reality. Yume's hands tremble slightly as she processes the weight of Cassian's words, their daughter's existence tainted by the cruel fate that awaited Nephilim. Her eyes search his face for any hint of deception, only to find a cold mask of indifference staring back at her.
"Why... why would angels do such a thing?" Yume's voice is barely a whisper, carrying with it a tremor of fear and disbelief.
Cassian's gaze remains unwavering, his voice devoid of emotion as he explains, "It is the law. Nephilim are seen as abominations.”
“Mephisto.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “Did you know? ____’s life is in danger just for existing?” She turns to the demon king.
The demon king merely shrugs nonchalantly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, indeed, my dear Yume. The laws regarding Nephilim are strict and unforgiving. Despite what humans believe, angels can be quite cruel." Mephisto reclines in his seat, his emerald eyes gleaming with a dangerous glimmer. “It’s a matter of pride for them, you see. The purity of their celestial bloodline must be maintained at all costs, even if it means extinguishing innocent lives.” His words are like drops of poison seeping into Yume's mind.
Yume’s hands clench into fists at her sides, and her emerald eyes burn into Cassian. “And you’re telling me this now?” Her voice trembles with a mixture of rage and disbelief. “After all this time, you choose to reveal the truth now our daughter’s life has been in danger for the last eighteen years? You aren’t even the one who revealed the truth; would you have told me if Mephisto hadn’t said anything?”
Cassian’s expression is unreadable as he stares into Yume’s eyes. “Yes, eventually, I would’ve had to tell you because ____ would stop aging at some point, and I’d have no choice but to tell you.”
“Would you have told me if she aged normally?”
“No.”
His words weigh heavily on her, so he’d lie to her for the rest of her life? “Wait, you said ____ will stop aging, but you’ve aged over the last twenty years.”
“Yeah.”
She wants to scream at him, call him out; even now, he’s not giving her clear answers, but ____ flashes through her mind, and ____ is her priority right now. “We need to find her; what if something happens to her while she is with Amaimon?” Panic consumes Yume as she envisions all the potential dangers _____ could face. Never in her life did she think her child’s life could be taken by an angel. For years, it’s demons that have been on the forefront of her mind. But angels? Why would they be so malicious? “Mephisto, where is she!?”
“You underestimate the stubbornness of my younger brother. I can assure you that she is safe; after all, Amaimon is a demon king. He is stronger than most angels and demons. If there were an angel who could challenge him, Amaimon isn’t foolish; he would protect _____ and send her here with the key of infinity," Mephisto reassures the panicked mother.
As Mephisto's words sink in, Yume's gaze shifts back to Cassian, searching for any trace of remorse or empathy in his features. Instead, she finds only a cold mask of detachment, a reminder of the divide between their worlds and the secrets he has kept hidden for so long. I don’t even know my own husband. I’ve never seen him like this. She can see the cruelty of angels in his eyes. Are all angels like him? Do they all hate humans? How could she have been so blind? How could she have failed to see beneath her husband’s façade? “Do all angels hate humans?” She questions.
“No.”
“But you do, right?” His dislike, which she’d often brush off, was clearly hate. ” So, why do you hate humans? Are you a fallen angel?”
“I hate humans because you’re inferior to us. Yet, we’re supposed to bow down to humans? I’m not a fallen angel because I’m not stupid. I don’t know why Lucifer thought he could win.”
"You... you think we're inferior?" Her voice quivers with a mix of hurt and disbelief, unable to comprehend the depth of Cassian's true feelings towards the very beings she had dedicated her life to protecting as an exorcist. The realization that she had shared her home, her bed, with someone who viewed her kind with such contempt sends shards of agony through her soul. She knew he didn’t like people, but learning he’s not human himself and he hates humans is hard.
As the silence envelops the room once more, Mephisto's gaze flits between Yume and Cassian, a calculating glint in his emerald eyes. "The truth can be a bitter pill to swallow, can it not?"
Notes:
Thanks for all the support, I'm writing an Amaimon soulmate AU too. So you can find it by clicking my username. It's a red string of fate soulmate AU Amaimon x reader
Chapter 26: Chapter 26
Notes:
Yes, Yasu/Cassian is an asshole. His name is going to switch when speaking to Yume and Mephisto. So when it's only him and Mephisto he will be referred to as Cassian.
Amaimon isn't completely honest.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"Stop looking at it from a human perspective. Time holds no meaning for us. I'm a demon. Within a few days of meeting you, I knew you would be my mate."
"Within a few days, you knew?"
Amaimon shrugs. "Yes."
You stare, speechless. "So, you knew you loved me within a few days?"
"Oh. No." He shakes his head. "Big brother told me I'm an idiot, and if I didn't realize my feelings, he would take you from me. I didn't know what he meant." Amaimon tilts his head. "Love isn't that common with demons, though it's not unheard of."
"You wanted me to be your mate even though you didn't love me?"
"Yes. I don't understand why you're so confused. I tried to ignore you when we met, but you offered me cookies. Then, you gave yourself to me with the contract." His brow furrows in confusion.
Wait, there's no way. "Offering you cookies is part of why you wanted me as your mate?" You had to have misunderstood him.
The green-haired idiot nods. "Yes, they were good."
Amaimon's casual admission leaves you reeling, unsure how to process his nonchalant attitude toward such a significant declaration. His matter-of-fact tone only adds to the absurdity of the situation.
"You're seriously telling me that cookies played a role in this?" Your voice is laced with disbelief, struggling to grasp the gravity of what he's implying.
Amaimon nods earnestly, his golden eyes flickering with a mischievous glint. "Yes. They were good," he states as if it should be obvious.
You find yourself at a loss for words, the situation's absurdity sinking in. How could something as simple as offering cookies have led to him deciding he wants you? It defied all logic.
"Also, after trying yours, other cookies weren't as good." He sighs.
"So, the obvious answer is you making me your mate so I can bake for you anytime you want?"
"Yes."
Drawing in a deep breath, you attempt to wrap your head around the situation, your gaze locked with Amaimon's unwavering stare. "So, you're essentially saying that the way to the Demon King of Earth's heart is through cookies?" You scoff.
Amaimon casually nods. "In your case, yes…Also, after that, you offered me your soul. So, why wouldn't you become my mate? It makes the most sense, right?" He tilts his head curiously. "Forever by my side. It would be odd if you weren't my mate while by my side for eternity."
"I guess." His logic is starting to make sense, even if it's weird.
"Then I wanted more of you. But I didn't know what because I already had your body and soul."
As he moves in closer, he wraps his arms around you possessively. You let out a scoff and rest your head on his shoulder. "You're so greedy," you grumble before letting out a sigh. "I love you," you finally confess.
"So, I can make you my mate."
"No."
You feel the demon tense in your arms, so you quickly clarify. "You can mark me, or whatever you said Mephisto told you to do. But I'm still in high school. Mating is like marriage for humans. I can't have a husband before I graduate." I'd rather wait a couple of years after graduation. But maybe that's more of the human view Amaimon had been complaining about. Do angels view it similarly? Amaimon doesn't understand why we should wait. I guess it doesn't make sense to wait when it's not a young human relationship that'll most likely end within a year.
His claws dig into your waist, and for a moment, you wonder if he'll ignore your human reasoning and just make you his mate right now. His expression remains unreadable as he processes your words.
After a brief moment of intense eye contact, he gently tilts your head to the left, his gaze fixated on the darkened mark he had left before you interrupted. "Okay," he shrugs nonchalantly before leaning in to press his warm, wet tongue against the mark on your throat. Your legs give out at the sensation, and you quickly cling to him for support.
You groan at the feeling of his breath against your throat. "Amaimon, why am I so sensitive? What did you do?"
"I told you we're more sensitive for our mates, especially in the beginning." He covers your mouth with his fangs, gently grazing your lower lip, demanding entrance. When you pull away, he makes a noise of dissatisfaction, though he quickly moves his focus to your jaw. "But we aren't-"
"You've accepted me as your future mate." His lips move to that one spot on your throat he seems so obsessed with. Wait. Your eyes widen as a thought hits you. "Amaimon, have you already marked me?"
"Yes."
You are in shock as you push him away. "What do you mean by yes? I thought-" What were you thinking? A formal ceremony of some kind? In disbelief, you lift your hand, placing it over the mark on your skin.
His eyes meet yours, "It's not complete until you return it." He admits, though keeps, the fact that him asking you to bite him had been him trying to coax you into returning the mark. You're more focused on the concept of marking and mating than he anticipated. He struggles to understand why you don't just accept it; after all, you agreed to the terms of the contract right away. Why push back on this? He tilts his head to the left while tapping the right side of his throat, the same area he's left a mark on you. "Mark me _____."
Unconsciously, you run your tongue over your smooth human teeth. "How?" Do you have to break the skin? Surely, there must be more than biting to signify someone as your future mate. I'm not sure I can even break his skin with my teeth.
"I've told you. Bite me." He speaks slowly, sounding like he's tired of repeating himself. He probably is.
You stare at him for a long moment, then glance at the bed behind you. It'd be less awkward than standing in the middle of the room biting him. "I don't really get how me biting you will help. I've bit you before." You remind him.
As he glances at the bed over your shoulder, Amaimon slowly lifts his hands to unbutton his top. "Just do as I say," he says, tugging you towards the bed.
Amaimon's gaze is a mixture of determination and impatience as he pushes you onto the bed, quickly following. Your eyes roam over his chest; he's so oddly perfect. "____, you need to bite my throat. You can have your way with me after." You stiffen at his words. "No! I wasn't. Shut up, Amaimon." You attempt to cover your face with your hands; why is this so embarrassing? But he stops you, pulling your arms to wrap around his shoulders instead.
He tilts his head in confusion at your hesitation. "We've done much more than this; why are you so shy about this?"
"Amaimon, stop talking."
"It's just a bite."
"It's not just a bite."
"You've already given yourself to me for eternity." He grabs your right forearm with his left hand, gripping it tightly. "Unless you don't want me to belong to you?"
His words cause something to stir deep within you, without thinking you lean forward, sinking your teeth in the right side of his throat, in the same area he's always focused on you—his scent envelopes you, a mix of rich earth and spice that swirls your senses. The taste of his skin against your tongue is sweet, leaving a tingling sensation in against your tongue. Amaimon lets out a low, rumbling growl and tightens his grip on your arm as a rush of emotions floods your senses. Memories flash before your eyes like a whirlwind—the first time you met, the moments shared in secrecy, and the undeniable pull toward each other that couldn't fully be explained.
As a metallic taste floods your mouth, your eyes widen in surprise, and you instinctively pull away. "I'm sorry, I-"
His lips crust against yours, silencing any apologies you had had as he presses you against the bed; without warning, he bites down on your throat. The sharp sting of his fangs breaking through your skin sends a familiar jolt of pain mixed with a rush of pleasure coursing through your body. This time, though, the feeling is much more intense than it was in previous times. You gasp as an odd sense of connection more profound than anything you've ever experienced tugs at your very core. Amaimon's claws dig into the mattress on either side of your head, tearing through the bedding and leaving deep imprints in the mattress.
He pulls back, his gaze locked on your throat as a mark appears. A mark that will forever tie you to him, a mark that's identical to the one now on his throat, a burgundy-colored swirl that marks you as his mate.
"You truly think we are inferior?" Yume's disbelief starts to bubble into anger. "I am a human; if we're so inferior, why are you even in my life? Why did we have a child?" His lack of reaction fuels her anger. "Yasu, answer me."
Annoyance is twisted in his words as he speaks. "Because I love you."
"Keeping a secret like that isn't love."
Mephisto raises a brow at her comment, "Talk about the pot calling the kettle black." He hums to himself, though the two before him aren't listening, too focused on each other.
Yasu frowns at her comment, "Keeping a secret isn't love? You kept the secret about your family and past from me."
"That's because I wanted to keep you safe!"
"But it's the same thing, right?" His tone is filled with faux confusion. "I wanted to keep you and ____ safe, so I didn't tell you I am an angel."
A heavy, uncomfortable stillness hangs in the air. Yume's eyes lock onto the man standing before her, but he no longer resembles her husband. His face is now cold and aloof. "I'm sorry," she says, furrowing her brow and avoiding his gaze, not entirely sure why she feels the need to say sorry; the words spill out without her consciously choosing them. "But you knew I was previously an exorcist, didn't you? You could have mentioned that you were an angel."
Yasu tightens his lips. "I didn't see the need to."
"Are you even sorry you didn't tell me?"
"No." He shrugs. "I didn't want you to know. You would've been paranoid every time you stepped outside with _____. But there's no need to worry. Others won't be able to tell she's an angel; Mephisto only knows because he knows me personally." Yasu gives the demon a look of distaste.
More confusion fills Yume; the more she learns, the less sense everything makes. "What do you mean others won't be able to tell? So, to other angels, does she just seem like a normal human? How did you do that?"
Yasu glances off to the side, not wanting to reveal more than he must, "I can't tell you; it doesn't matter. _____ is safe; that's the more important thing. Right?"
"Safe? You think she is safe when she's currently with a demon who is determined to make her his mate." Yume paces the living room as she speaks. Her focus is now back on what she deems is the most important thing. She can deal with her lying husband later. "_____ is still young and has a demon who has decided she will be his mate. You said angels mate for life, but it's not official, right? She has time to escape." Yume again starts to convince herself that this doesn't have to happen. "_____ isn't tied to this demon yet. She still has time to escape and live a normal life. Fall in love with a nice young human man." She rambles, ideas of taking you away from all this and escaping flooding her mind, living alone in the countryside, maybe moving to another country, and you could disappear within a large city. This doesn't have to end with you being bound to a demon; there is still hope for you to escape and find true love elsewhere. Yume is determined to be by your side through it all until you realize that you were never meant to fall for a demon in the first place.
Both Yasu and Mephisto give her a look of unease.
"Yume, I told you-"
"No. You told me angels mate for life. I can still stop this; I can save ____." A look of disgust crosses her face. "Where are they, Mephisto?"
Yasu gives her a look of pity. "Yume-"
"NO! Shut up. _____ is with a demon, and it's my fault." Her voice is filled with desperation, and her green eyes are tearing up. "I had her come to True Cross Academy and pushed her into my family's problems. It's just blown up in my face; I can't allow this to happen. There is still time; I can fix it." She reaches into her pocket for her phone; as long as she can convince you not to let the demon mark you, she can protect you when you return. She will save you.
"Give me her location."
Mephisto slowly shakes his head. "I'm sorry, but I don't have the location."
"Fine," Yume snaps, frustrated with his lack of assistance. "I'll find her on my own." Without waiting for a response from either man, she storms out of the room and slams the door shut behind her.
"Cassian, it's not nice to gaslight your wife." Mephisto tuts.
"Is Lucifer currently in Assiah?"
Mephisto hums, "Yes, though he seems to be having trouble with his vessel. Why? I thought you wanted to stay to the side. Are you thinking of joining Lucifer now?"
I'd rather not get involved in situations like this if I can avoid it."
Mephisto hums in agreement, knowing that Cassian didn't even come forward to assist his best friend when it was the time that Satan needed him most. But surely Cassian will step up for his beloved wife. "I imagine Yume will argue you are needed. She's not going to turn her back on humanity. Also, ____, would she turn her back on humanity? It seems you're the only one in your family that wants to ignore the war."
Cassian gives Mephisto a piercing stare. "If your younger brother agrees with me and doesn't want to be involved, _____ will remain by his side."
"And Yume?"
When Cassian doesn't answer, Mephisto chuckles. "Ah, there's the Cassian I know."
Notes:
Cassian should've been cast into hell with Satan.
So, I thought about Amaimon and the mate thing, and MC is looking at 'mates' from a human perspective. Basically, Amaimon figures she's technically already his mate anyway. Wouldn't it be better to have the marks to let others know she belongs to him and vice-versa?
Yes, the mark shows they're mates; it's the purple/burgundy design on his arm when he changes into more of his demon form. It's also on hobgoblins arms. It's not huge, but it is noticeable on their throats. MC can buy some collared shirts and scarves lmao
Chapter 27: Chapter 27
Summary:
This chapter is a lot lighter than previous chapters.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Amaimon lingers above you for a few minutes, admiring the new mark on your throat. It’s when you notice a design on his throat that he allows you to push him away and sit up. There on his throat is an odd swirl design, similar to the design on the arms of hobgoblins. Though, unlike your hobgoblins, this design is burgundy. “Amaimon,” slowly, you trace your fingers along the mark while quietly asking. “Is this what you were talking about when you said marking?” You had assumed it would be some type of scarring or something. It never even crossed your mind there would be some kind of design, almost like a tattoo. He nods in confirmation, tilting his head to the side so you can get a better look at it. “Is this on my throat, too?”
“Yes, it’ll show others you’re my mate.”
“Mate?”
“Yes, a mark from your mate.”
Your breath hitches as you stare at the demon before you in disbelief. Mate. Mate. That’s not what he said.
“Amaimon, you said marking would be like…” You struggle to find the words. “You said it was like an engagement, that Mephisto told you only to mark me, that you wouldn’t make me your mate yet.”
“Just marking you without you being my mate doesn’t make sense. Engagement is odd, and I don’t understand it.” He admits. “Big brother said human men give women rings for engagement. Then, when they marry, each gets a ring. Don’t you want others to see I belong to you? Why do you only want you to be marked?” Also, it’s not possible for only one of us to be marked. Otherwise, he would’ve marked you as soon as the contract was made.
He doesn’t understand engagement and marriage. Amaimon can’t comprehend the difference. Your hands tremble as you look at him, struggling to find words. He doesn’t understand it. From his perspective, it all makes perfect sense. He wants others to know he has a mate; he wants others to see a mark on him. But didn’t Mephisto tell him only to mark me and not make me his mate? You grimace, trying to understand the logic between the demons. Mephisto probably knew, though; he knew Amaimon would think his comment was odd and do whatever he wanted. “A marriage is more complicated than just giving rings, Amaimon.”
“Do you want someone else?” His tone darkens as he tries to think of a reason why you wouldn’t want to be his mate now. It doesn’t make sense because you’ve agreed to be his mate, so why does it matter when you’re marked as his mate? Did you want to be with someone else before he officially marked you? “I’ll kill him.”
Without hesitation, you embrace him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while shaking your head. “No. No. Amaimon, I don’t want anyone else. I love you. Only you.” Maybe I do need to stop looking at it from a human perspective. Why is this so hard? “So, it’s common for demons to claim and mark their mate after only a few weeks of being together, right?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Right?”
Nothing.
“Amaimon.” Your arms drop to your sides.
“….not exactly.”
“Amaimon.”
“I told you demons rarely fall in love; we also rarely take mates. I told you that time is irrelevant for us. But I don’t know how long a demon is with a partner on average before they make them their mate.” He admits with a shrug. “You already gave me your soul; doesn’t it make more sense for us to become mates sooner rather than later? I don’t understand you.”
You want to be angry, and you should be angry, but once again, those emotions don’t arise. Amaimon stares blankly at you. Why does his mate have to be so stubborn?
You reach for his unbuttoned shirt, bringing the demon king closer to you. “Fine. I’m officially your mate. I’m not defending you against Katashi, though.” His lips capture yours in a slow, passionate kiss, running his warm tongue along your lower lip. “Nope!” You pull away, ignoring his look of annoyance as you slip off the bed and make your way towards the bathroom. You need to see the mark on your throat.
It's identical to the one on his throat. You lean closer to the mirror to get a better look, expecting to see bite marks mixed in with the design, but it’s smooth. No signs that he had bitten you at all. Gently, you run your fingertips over the mark; you can feel no raised skin or indentions. It’s just above the junction where your throat meets your shoulder. Your school uniform will cover it. His uniform will cover his. You should be able to hide it from your family members. “Amaimon?”
“Yes?” He calls from the bedroom.
“Why this symbol?”
He appears behind you in the mirror as you stare at the symbol, wrapping his arms around you; he places his head on your left shoulder while staring at the mark on your throat in the mirror. “It’s a symbol on my body.”
His body? You raise a brow. You’ve seen all of his body, and there is no mark on his body like that.
“My real body.” He clarifies.
And just like that, you’re reminded that this isn’t his demon body. I don’t even know what my mate truly looks like.
Knowing what you’re thinking, he questions. “Are you scared?”
“A little.”
He smirks at your admission.
Your brow furrows as you open a group chat that you have ignored for the past few days. Notifications had been off, but now you’re receiving a message directly to you from the class representative, and when you open the chat, you see it’s for Amaimon, too.
@_____ @Ambrosius Hello! I hope you both are doing well. I’m unsure if you’re aware, but neither of you has been to school this week. I hope you two aren’t sick! I wanted to let you know we have an important assignment due Monday. If you can’t make it to class this week, I can stop by and give you the material you’ll need ____, and I’ll have Saito bring the material for Ambrosius. I hope you two are doing well; if you need anything, please let me know!
“Oh my god, there’s probably so many rumors going around since we’ve been out at the same time.” Even if you’re mostly overlooked and ignored while in class, it’s still a class of high schoolers, and they’re going to notice something like that. Teenagers are so dramatic; you wouldn’t be surprised if they thought you and Amaimon had run away together or something.
Amaimon sits beside you, and his messaging app is also open to read the message. “Rumors?”
“Yeah, like we ran away together or something silly.”
“We kind of did.”
You choose to ignore that. “I’m worried about this project; it’s probably a big part of our grade I can’t fail this class. Maybe we should go back.” Your fingers tap anxiously against the bedding as you speak. “I need to get into a good university. Get far away from True Cross and my family.” You might even look at schools in another country at this point.
“Get far away?” He gives you a look of disapproval.
“Yes. Far, far away, stop looking at me like that. It isn’t like you won’t be following me wherever I go.” You know the clingy king would follow you across the world if he had to. “I just want to go to university and live as normal as possible for a while.” You don’t know when Amaimon will want to return to Gehenna, but is it too much to ask to have a normal life until then?
“Normal?”
“Yes, normal by human standards. Go to university for something I love, get a job, get married, have kids, you know? Normal.” You hadn’t actually thought too much about your life beyond university previously, but now, knowing what you know, what you are, and how it will all end with you in Gehenna, you just want to have what you can of a normal life.
Beside you, Amaimon is eerily quiet; he’s just staring at you blankly. “Of course, it won’t be forever! I know I’m going with you to Gehenna at some point, and-“
“You want kids?”
You freeze, unsure how to respond, as it dawns on you that Amaimon has never expressed any desire to have children. He’s so open about his thoughts and wants; he would have mentioned if he wanted kids by now, right? You’ve never had a strong urge to be a mother, never put too much thought into it, like whether you want a boy or girl, how many kids you want, but you always figured kids would be in your future. “I-“ Do you want kids? Or are kids just something you had just assumed would happen, and you didn’t care if you have them or not? Amaimon is giving no hints of how he feels about it, complicating it even more. If he would just show some indication of what he wants regarding having children or not, you could answer.
“It really doesn’t matter; I want to go to university. I’m not one hundred percent sure what I want to go for yet though-”
“Do you want kids?”
“Amaimon, it really doesn’t matter. I was just saying what a normal life is and not really paying attention to what I was saying.”
“_____, do you want kids?”
He might break the contract if he knows you want kids. Not take you as a mate. A dark thought crosses your mind, and you aren’t sure if it’s supporting your relationship with him or if it’s trying to help you find a way to leave Amaimon. But you can picture a child with golden eyes staring up at you. It's a fuzzy outline of a baby, but you can see the golden eyes. You do want kids, and you want them with Amaimon one day.
“Yes.”
He blinks, looking a bit thrown off by your answers.
“Do you?” You question cautiously, trying to copy the blank expression he often gives you.
His eyes lock onto the mark on your throat; children hadn’t even crossed his mind. He was so focused on making you his, but he hadn’t really thought past that. Hadn’t considered what your lives would be like beyond marking you as his mate. It doesn’t matter; he’ll give his queen anything she wants. “Yes.”
Your face flushes with embarrassment as he answers, and you immediately cover it with your hands; this was not a conversation you had anticipated having, even though it’s comforting to know that he also wants children. Still, you can’t push down the embarrassment. “But many years in the future!” Humor fills Amaimon at your reaction. Tugging you into his arms, he starts teasing you. “Many years? That seems like such a long time; don’t you want children now?”
“NO! I can’t have kids when I’m still in high school!”
“So, after you finish. A few months from now, we can start having kids?” He playfully kisses the spot on your neck where the mark now is; his tone has switched to sound like annoyingly childish curiosity.
“I told you I’m going to university.” You groan into his shoulder.
You feel Amaimon nod. “Yes, so I will be a-” He pauses, seemingly thinking of the correct term. “Stay at home dad? Is that what it’s called? We won’t have to wait a few years.”
You know he’s just teasing, but it doesn’t make it any less embarrassing for you. Why did you have to mention children? You want to crawl under a rock. You quickly change the subject. “Anyway, I think I should go back to school tomorrow. I’ve got to do that project.” Your arms tighten around Amaimon. “You also need to complete it; I doubt your brother will be happy if Ambrosius Faust, the headmaster's nephew, fails the class.” You pull away and gently run your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. “Though we’d be losing a few nights here.” Amaimon glances to the side; he destroyed the bed with his claws. You follow his gaze. “Oh. Right.” You don’t know how much it’ll be to replace, but it looks expensive. “Mephisto isn’t going to be happy with that charge on top of the expensive resort stay.” Amaimon shrugs; it isn’t like Mephisto can’t afford it.
“Let’s go then.” Amaimon takes out the eternity key from his pocket, “Sure. Let me grab my stuff first.” You quickly collect the few items you came with and bought, then follow Amaimon into what you see is your dorm. Instead of questioning why you’re in the dorm instead of his bedroom, you start putting away your clothes. “What should we tell the teachers tomorrow? It’ll be suspicious to them that we missed almost a full week of school and are returning on the same day.”
“We were on vacation.”
“Yeah, we’re not telling them that.” That’ll be more than enough rumors from your classmates; you don’t want to add more fuel to the fire. “Maybe we should say we were sick? Since we’re always together, it wouldn’t be too strange if we both got sick at the same time. But then they might question why we’re returning the same day." But you’ll have no choice but to return on the same day; Amaimon won’t let you out of his sight for that long. “Whatever, we were sick. There are gonna be rumors regardless.”
“There are gonna be rumors regardless.”
As the weight of your words sinks in, you slump back into your chair. People around you are openly gawking; they don't even bother to hide their curiosity. "They're all staring at us," you whisper to Amaimon, who is nonchalantly munching on a bag of chips, seemingly unfazed by the attention.
Someone quickly steps in front of you, blocking the stares from the others. A friendly, light brown-haired girl with warm blue eyes smiles down at you—the class representative. "Welcome back, Aoki-san Ambrosius-kun! I've collected all of your assignments for the week, so you won't fall behind." She pulls out a small stack of papers and two books as she talks. "Here's some information about our project. You also have some homework and worksheets to catch up on, and we're reading this book. It needs to be finished by the end of next week. If you need anything else, just let me know." You watch as she turns her attention towards someone behind you. Her face turns red as she speaks. "Ambrosius-kun, I don't mind helping you with these." She points towards a couple of calculus worksheets. "I noticed that you were struggling a bit, and I had top scores, so I can help you if you want."
You widen your eyes in shock; is she trying to flirt with Amaimon? But before you can respond, Amaimon beats you to it.
“No.” Amaimon doesn’t even spare her a glance as he answers.
“Are you sure? Because I-“
"Thank you for gathering everything on our behalf. If he doesn't show any improvement, I'll assist him with calculus," you say, shooting Amaimon a pointed glance. "I may even have to restrain you." His lack of focus and effort in class might require you to physically restrain him in order to ensure that he completes all of his work.
“You want to restrain me? I like to be the one in charge, but as I’ve mentioned before, I’m willing to let you have your way with me.” His tone is so composed that it almost masks what it is implying. Almost. "What?! I-".
Takahashi's face turns bright red as she quickly apologizes. "I'm so sorry! I didn't know; I assumed you two were just friends. Please forgive me!" She bows deeply before scurrying back to her seat across the classroom. Now, all eyes are on you and Amaimon, curious about the situation. But Amaimon pays no attention to their stares as he leans closer to you. "_____, when we get back to your room, would you like to tie me down?" His voice remains monotone as he asks the question.
“No!” You whisper and attempt to push him away, but he doesn’t budge.
“Do you want me to tie you down?”
“No!”
“Are you sure?”
You refuse to look at him, staring at the blackboard before you. He raises a brow while leaning even closer. “You do.”
“I didn’t say that! Shut up, we’re at school.” You ignore his smug look as he leans back into his seat.
After about a minute, the teacher enters the room. He seems taken aback by your and Amaimon's return to class but doesn't remark on it.
As the lunch bell rings, Amaimon stands up and grabs your wrist, pulling you towards the door. However, the teacher calls out for both of you to stay. Amaimon gives the teacher a look that clearly shows his lack of interest; he doesn't want to stay. "I assume Takahashi-san gave you the assignment to complete?" The teacher asks. You nod and reply, "Yes, sir."
“I was surprised you both were out nearly the whole week.”
Your eyes flicker to Amaimon. “Yes, over the weekend, we both caught colds.”
“I understand. Don't hesitate to ask if you need any assistance or additional information. I'm relieved to hear that the two of you are doing better.” He looks at you with a hint of disappointment in his expression, clearly not believing your words. But then again, you are lying, so you can't really be upset about it.
As Amaimon pulls you from the classroom, you can feel the judgmental eyes of your teacher burning in the back of your head.
You try to distract yourself from the judgment of your classmates and teachers by asking, "What do you want for lunch?" Maybe buying something at a convenience store would be easy enough. You can make a proper lunch for the two of you tomorrow, but for today, a store-bought meal should suffice; they are becoming healthier these days. Without giving Amaimon a chance to respond, you add, "Let's go to the store down the street."
He doesn’t reply; he just allows you to pull him around wherever you want
As the two of you enter the store, he immediately heads towards the aisle with all the junk food. "Wait, Ambrosius! Do you know what you want for lunch?" You try to get his attention, but Amaimon is too busy examining all the different snacks on the shelves.
“Ambrosius?” He can be such a pain in the ass. You shake your head, grabbing two meals from the refrigerated aisle.
As you set the plates down on the counter, Amaimon materializes behind you with a stack of snacks in his arms. "You're really going to eat all that junk during our two-hour lunch break?" Amaimon nods without hesitation. "Yes."
"Okay, but you're paying." After the cashier scans both meals, you take them and walk over to the microwave. "Would you like another bag for the meals?" The cashier asks, worried that they may be too hot to carry without one. Amaimon doesn't acknowledge the cashier's question and picks up the meals without showing any reaction to the heat.
Amaimon leads you to a picnic table situated in the center of the park, carefully placing the food and his own snacks on top. You take a quick scan of the nearly deserted park, with only a handful of other students scattered about. "You'd think more people would come here for lunch," you remark, as you hand Amaimon the meal as he settles in next to you on the bench. He opens the container and curiously peers at the contents: stir-fried chicken, steamed vegetables, and rice.
Yours is nearly identical, except instead of chicken, it’s a seafood stir-fry.
You feel a twinge of annoyance as Amaimon quickly finishes his chicken and rice and then pushes the vegetables away from him. "Amaimon," you say sternly, pulling the plate closer to you. "Even if you are a demon king, that doesn't mean you can ignore your health. Eat more vegetables." You scold him while trying to feed him a piece of broccoli. "It’s not healthy to eat only junk; this is a human vessel, right? You need to eat healthy." Your frown deepens as he pushes away your hand when you try to feed him a carrot. "I don't like it," he complains, refusing to eat. Amid your struggle, someone sits across from you and sets down their own lunch on the table. You stop struggling with Amaimon and eat the carrot instead before turning to stare at the person across from you; their green eyes burn into yours. “Hey Katashi.”
His mind goes blank; he had so much he wanted to say when he finally found you, yet nothing came out. He can’t remember a word of it. He watches quietly as you turn your attention back to Amaimon, attempting to feed the demon king vegetables. Katashi watches as you pick up another carrot, nearly climbing into the demon’s lap as you try to feed him. Katashi knows Amaimon can easily overpower you; nobody is close enough to see his true strength. Yet, he allows you to persist in your attempt to feed him, even though it's clear he doesn’t want to eat any vegetables. As he watches, he struggles to recall the words he had prepared to say to you, feeling frustrated and tongue-tied.
“Amaimon, eat the carrot.”
Katashi observes Amaimon's displeased expression as he eventually opens his mouth to allow you to feed him. Once you make sure that Amaimon has consumed all the vegetables, you turn your focus back to Katashi. "Has anyone informed you about my father being an angel?"
Notes:
I feel like Amaimon would be a pain in the ass about eating vegetables and he'd have to be fed like a child.
Did you see him in the intro for the new season? I had to pause and just stare at him. He looks so good in his school uniform. Then I took a screenshot lol
Maybe we can get some more fics since he'll be in this season.
Also, sidenote: Amaimon's complete demon form in this story is going to be the body we saw with him at the Vatican. Which MC will see soon.
Chapter 28: Chapter 28
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Anyway, nice talk. We have class soon.” You stand, grabbing the plastic plates. You toss them in a trash can nearby, reaching for Amaimon to pull him back to class.
Katashi bristles at your words. “What? You can’t just say that and walk away! Are you being literal or metaphorical?” There’s no way that man could be an angel in either sense. He attempts to grab you, but Amaimon is faster, grabbing his wrist. With a loud crack, Katashi winces in pain.
“Never touch my mate.”
Katashi freezes at the threat, his eyes widening in shock, and he feels an intense fear of Amaimon. Even when he realized that Ambrosius was, in fact, Amaimon, he didn’t experience this level of fear. This profound fear is unfamiliar to him, and for the first time, he truly fears Amaimon. It’s the first time Amaimon has shown deadly intent towards him.
Amaimon releases the human’s wrist, and Katashi instinctively pulls it to his chest, careful to avoid any contact. “Mate?" he asks. Then, his eyes catch a mark on Amaimon’s throat, still visible even in his Ambrosius form. Over time, Katashi has come across less common lore, suggesting that some high-ranked demons might select a mate and leave a mark, though this seems quite rare. His attention shifts to your throat; despite your collar obscuring it, he notices a similar mark as he watches you closely. “_____,” he questions, his voice laced with despair. “What have you done?”
“We’re really going to be late if we don’t get going.”
A nauseating sensation twists in his stomach as he observes Amaimon being pulled back to school by you.
“_____, why would you tell him?” Amaimon asks, intertwining his fingers with yours.
“I didn’t plan to,” you confess, staring at the cracks. “I didn’t expect to run into Katashi, and honestly, I was being spiteful towards my parents. I’m really frustrated with them, and I thought Mom would try to hide this from Katashi for as long as possible.” You lightly squeeze his hand. “So far, Katashi is the only person who hasn’t deceived me. Now that he knows, maybe he can ask Mom some questions, and I can learn more from him.”
You feel exhausted and dislike school. Next to you, Amaimon is struggling too. He can't handle the work and constantly seeks your attention; if you refuse, he has no problem tossing your books into the trash. You thought staying after class would let you finish your homework peacefully, assuming Amaimon would quietly sulk beside you. But that wasn’t the case. He didn’t care about being discreet and loudly complained about your neglect. You tried to request he be quiet and sit next to you, even if he ended up draping himself over you. However, after eight hours, he had reached his limit, and when his complaints and tugging at you drew attention, you quickly stood up and shoved everything into your school bag.
“Um, what are you doing?” You sigh as Amaimon nestles his face against your neck, pulling you onto a nearby bench. “I’ve told you again and again that this isn’t appropriate.” You protest, running your fingers through his hair, trying to distance him from the mark. Ever since he claimed you as his mate, he’s become increasingly clingy, leaving you confused about his behavior. You never anticipated his attachment would intensify, yet here you find him—almost sitting in your lap now. “I have so much schoolwork to catch up on.” You exhale in frustration, attempting to gently push him away.
When you lock eyes with him, it’s clear your words are brushed aside; he’s completely tuned out. “Amaimon?” He places his right hand on the back of your head, gripping your hair firmly. “Ow, what—” You try to ask, but your question gets cut off as his lips press against yours, his warm tongue diving past your lips to explore. You bite down on his tongue, eliciting a groan as he pulls back, his expression showing displeasure. “Amaimon, I need to concentrate. I have to finish this year of high school. Finish high school, then attend a university far away from everyone and their bullshit, remember?”
"We can use money from Big Brother.” He doesn’t want you to go to university. University is more education, but it's also more challenging. It will distance you from him even further. He has already looked into it. He won't be able to share classes with you, meaning you'll be apart for a significant time. "You won't need to work.”
“Amaimon, you can't be sure if Mephisto will give us the money to leave. Pretty sure he’d rather you stay nearby; he brought you to Assiah for a reason.” You try to convince him.
"I have a phone and the key of eternity. There's no need for me to remain here. After earning a degree, you're not going to find employment, so why spend time on it?”
"You know by now that living in Assiah requires money. And money comes from having a job."
“You’re my mate; you’ll stay with me.”
"Okay then," you respond. Continuing the argument feels futile; he probably won’t change his opinion, and you have a few months left to sort things out.
A text helps turn the conversation. "Shiemi wants to go out this weekend." You grin at the message, “You’re not third-wheeling this time. If you really want to come, I’ll have Shiemi invite Rin." You give the demon king a smug look. It’s finally girl time. Amaimon gives you an annoyed glance before burying his face in your neck again.
Bright blue eyes meet yours as the energetic teen nearly bounces in his seat. "Thanks for the invite! It's great to see you again."
You underestimated what Amaimon would deal with to be by your side.
"It's great to see you too! I'm happy we could set up this double date." Both Rin and Shiemi blush a deep red at the comment.
"D-date?" Poor Shiemi looks like she might burst with anxiety. "I need to use the bathroom!" she suddenly declares, springing up. "Hold on, Shiemi." You turn to Amaimon and lower your voice. "Do NOT harm Rin or reveal your true identity to him. If you do, I won’t talk to you for a week."
"You can't stay away from me that long."
"Really? I think my dad would know a few ways."
Amaimon huffs in annoyance, the sound escaping him like a low growl. He refocuses on his plate, eating his cake while ignoring Rin.
"Hey, I think we got off on the wrong foot." Rin attempts to start a conversation. Even though he abandoned _____ after a demon attacked her. "Maybe we can be friends?"
"No."
"What?"
"I don't want to be friends with you. I don't like you."
Rin stares at Ambrosius in disbelief; why wouldn't he like him? He hasn't done anything to him. If anything, Rin should be the one who doesn’t like Ambrosius! He’s still pissed that Ambrosius that left you in that state a few weeks ago. Still, he continues. "Come on, do you even have friends?"
"I have ____," Amaimon answers bluntly.
A determined look crosses Rin's face. "Listen, I know how it is. Before I came to True Cross, I only had one person, too - my younger brother Yukio. Now my brother and I have a lot of friends."
"I don't want friends," Amaimon replies bluntly.
"Everyone needs friends," Rin declares loudly, catching the attention of the few other patrons in the cafe.
Amaimon clicks his tongue in annoyance as he glances at the bathroom. He promised not to harm Rin Okumura, but if his younger brother doesn’t shut up, Amaimon might just risk your anger.
You watch as Shiemi scrubbed her hands yet again with soap. "I think your hands are clean enough now," you tease, trying to lighten the mood. "Are you alright? I was just joking about it being a date." You gently guide her away from the sink before she can get more soap. "Let's go back to the others; I don't want Ambrosius left alone with Rin."
“Why not?”
“Ambrosius isn’t a social person; Rin is probably trying to have a conversation with him. I don’t want Ambrosius to get angry.”
Shiemi glances at you with a mixture of concern and confusion in her eyes.
"But Ambrosius seems nice. Maybe Rin can help him open up a bit," she suggests optimistically.
You frown at her optimism, knowing more about Amaimon's real character. "Trust me, it's better if Ambrosius keeps to himself. He can be... difficult at times."
You and Shiemi head back to the table, where Rin appears to be having a one-sided conversation with Amaimon. Rin's ongoing efforts to befriend him seem to fall on deaf ears.
As you approach, Rin spots your return and turns his attention to you, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Hey, welcome back! I’ve been trying to get to know Ambrosius better. I thought it would be nice for the four of us to hang out more often.”
“No.” Amaimon tugs you onto the bench with him.
“Come on, I really think this will be fun,” Rin urges, undeterred by Amaimon’s dismissive attitude. His determination to befriend Amaimon is surprisingly strong.
On the other hand, Amaimon remains stoic, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. “I have no interest in being your friend, Okumura.”
Rin frowns yet remains determined. “I get it; you're not a people person. But we should at least attempt to get along. You might as well befriend ______’s other friends, right?” He gestures towards you, trying to appeal to Amaimon's gentler side.
It backfires. With a possessive grip around your waist, Amaimon leans in closer; his voice laced with a warning. "_______ is mine. Stay away from her, Okumura."
"I understand that you’re concerned about ___," Rin says thoughtfully, selecting his words to avoid upsetting the teenager across from him. "However, she is her own person. She has the right to choose who she spends her time."
Amaimon's expression darkens, a dangerous glint entering his golden eyes. "She has chosen me," he declares firmly, his possessiveness thick in the air.
You let out a sigh, choosing to ignore their petty argument. Instead, you turn your attention to Shiemi. "So, how have you been? How is your training going?" Her face brightens at the change of topic. "It's going well! I'm working hard, and I really enjoy the cram school. I wish you would join me!"
After hearing Shiemi mention your attendance at cram school, Amaimon tightens his grip on you. You refrain from rolling your eyes. “Eh, the idea of becoming an exorcist and chasing demons doesn't interest me, but I enjoy hearing about your progress in training."
As Shiemi expresses her excitement for the exorcist training, you notice Amaimon's grip around your waist tightening intermittently. It's evident he is growing more possessive and unsettled by the conversation. Sensing his unease, you opt to shift the topic in an attempt to diffuse the tension.
"Shiemi, have you been to the new herbal tea shop downtown? I’ve heard they have really unique blends," you suggest, trying to steer the conversation away from exorcist training.
Shiemi's eyes light up with interest. "Oh, I haven't! That sounds lovely. Maybe we could all go together sometime," she proposes, glancing at Rin and Amaimon.
Amaimon's expression darkens at the idea of you spending more time around Rin. “No.”
Shiemi blinks in surprise. “Oh, you don’t like tea? Then maybe just the three of us?” She glances between you and Rin, unknowingly infuriating the demon king across from her.
Oblivious to Amaimon's simmering anger, Rin smiles warmly at Shiemi's suggestion. "That sounds great! I'd love to try some new tea blends with you guys. When should we go?”
You're thankful that Amaimon hasn't lost control, but you have a sinking feeling that staying in this situation could lead to him hurting Rin and those nearby. "That sounds like a sweet date idea!" you say, smiling at them across the table. Meanwhile, you divert Amaimon's attention from Rin by feeding him cake.
Pulling the fork from his mouth, you notice a smear of dark chocolate icing on his lower lip. Without thinking, you instinctively reach out to brush it away. His lips part slightly in response, surprising you as he takes your thumb into his warm, wet mouth. With gentle sweeps of his tongue, he removes the chocolate that you had so kindly removed from his lip.
“Everyone can see us!” Your eyes widen, and your face flushes with embarrassment at his bold move. Rin and Shiemi share the same shocked expressions, stunned by his bold actions.
Amaimon's gaze remains locked with yours, unyielding and intense, as if daring anyone to challenge his actions. Despite the shocked silence that has fallen over your group, Amaimon's expression remains unreadable, his golden eyes burning into yours.
Rin clears his throat uncomfortably, attempting to ease the tense atmosphere. "Um, Ambrosius... maybe don’t do that in public," he suggests hesitantly, his discomfort evident in his voice.
Amaimon finally releases your thumb from his mouth, “Why?” The possessive gleam in his golden eyes intensifies as he leans in even closer to you. “_____ is mine; I’ll do whatever I want.”
Rin shifts uncomfortably in his seat, exchanging a nervous glance with Shiemi. The tension in the air is palpable, charged with an unspoken challenge between the two. Despite the group's unease, Amaimon seems unfazed by their reactions.
Irritated, you pinch his hip. “Stop it. I swear, you’re like a damn swan.” As you run your fingers through his hair, you playfully tug and shake his head. Amaimon lets you continue but gives you a curious look. “Swan?”
Shiemi tilts her head in confusion. “Um, ______, what do you mean he’s like a swan?”
“Swans can be aggressive, especially when it comes to their mates." Rin nods in understanding. “Oh, you’re right; a swan attacked me when I was a kid. They can be really nasty."
Amaimon simply shrugs, unaffected by your comparison. You let go of his head and place your arm around his shoulder. “Well, my swan mate," you say with sarcasm, "let's finish this cake, and then we can go.” The demon king leans into your embrace, his previous hostility fading as he allows you to give him orders. With the tension lifting, Rin and Shiemi share relieved glances at the de-escalation of the situation.
As he finishes the last bite of cake, Amaimon suddenly stands up, tugging you along. "Let's go," he says sharply, making it clear there’s no room for debate. “Damn it, Ambrosius.” Not in the mood to argue, you quickly turn to the other two. “Sorry, he’s exhausted from all the schoolwork he needs to catch up on. We’ve both got a ton to catch up.”
Rin quickly looks at Amaimon before leaning closer to you, “Are you okay?"
His concerns are clear, and you quickly attempt to address them. “Rin, he’s just really antisocial and can be a pain in the ass to others when he’s in a bad mood." Rin’s voice lowers to a faint whisper. "If you need any help, just let me know." Amaimon definitely heard that. Without giving the demon king time to respond, you stand up straight and pull him by his jacket collar. "Thanks, Rin. Shiemi, text me later." You lean down to hug Shiemi goodbye before leading Amaimon out of the restaurant as Shiemi bids farewell to both of you. As you step in the doorway, you lift your arm and wave. “Bye, Katashi." Shiemi and Rin both look over to see a man sinking into his chair, pulling his cap down to avoid eye contact.
Rin scowls at the table, his fist clenched with frustration. “I don’t trust him,” he snaps, startling Shiemi. “What do you mean?”
“Can’t you see how toxic he is? I don’t trust him with ______.”
“He loves her a lot.” She responds with a gentle smile. “He may not be kind to us, but he is always kind and caring toward her. Who knows? Maybe one day Ambrosius will want to be friends with us too?”
Notes:
Googling animals that will attack for their mate. Swans were the first thing that popped in my mind, but I wanted to google anyway—decided to stay with the swans. I'm also writing another short story for Amaimon. Amaimon and the Exorcist. Also, something on Tumblr with Amaimon and Reader. Will probably post more with Amaimon there if it's requested. But because of the shorter length they most likely won't be posted here. Also, I'm open to requests if you're interested. My best friend is currently obsessed with a character from Blue Lock. So there is some Blue Lock content, too. Probably should make different blogs lmao.
my tumblr is fanfictionstuff
Let's hope for more Amaimon fics with him being in this season 🤞
Chapter 29: Chapter 29
Notes:
I think this might be the longest chapter I've written.
There is smut towards the end, and while it's hinted throughout the chapter, there's no smut until after they eat.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Katashi paced the living room, anxiously waiting for Yume to knock on the door. She was supposed to arrive ten minutes ago. Had she decided not to come? Was something wrong? Was she safe? With each passing minute, Katashi's concern grew. Did Yasu get angry about her meeting with him, and had he somehow harmed her? Just as he was about to look for her, he heard a knock at the door. Katashi nearly tripped over himself as he rushed to open it.
"Yume! You're late. Are you okay?" he exclaimed, pulling her into the apartment. "What happened?"
Confused green eyes stare back at him. "Katashi, I'm not late; I'm early. I'm ten minutes early; you said two-thirty, right?"
Katashi glanced at the clock on the opposite wall. Had he said two-thirty? He could have sworn he said two. "It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're safe. I was worried because I expected you twenty minutes ago."
"I'm fine, Katashi."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Great, can we talk about how you're married to an angel?"
Confusion washes over Yume's features. "Sorry, what? An angel?" she laughs, shaking her head. "Katashi, are you listening to yourself? Yasu isn't an angel."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes! Do you see anything angelic in my husband?"
"No."
"Okay, well, did you only request to meet me to claim my husband-"
"_____ told me." His tone is steady, eyes burning into his sister.
"What?" A genuine look of confusion crosses Yume's features. "How would she know something like that? How did you even hear about it? ______ is somewhere with Amaimon, remember?"
"Yume, just be quiet and listen to me for once." Katashi takes a deep breath. "I spoke to ______; she said Yasu is an angel."
"Spoke to her how? She's currently with Amaimon. Did she call you?"
He never intended to lie to Yume; he loves his sister, but the lie slipped out so quickly. "Yes, she called me," he said, nodding as he continued to weave his story. "She told me she was angry with you and Yasu. She wanted to know if I was aware of the situation."
"That's it?" Yume frowned at his answer; she had never imagined her daughter would call Katashi. "Did she tell you anything else?"
Katashi wonders momentarily if Yume knows what's happening between ______ and Amaimon. She'd surely be more upset at the idea of _____ being with Amaimon if she were aware. She'd be furious learning Amaimon marked her as his mate. "No. I just wanted to support you and ensure you're aware." Katashi speaks carefully, knowing asking too many questions will push her back.
"I understand. It's a complicated situation." Yume gazed into her brother's eyes as more words slipped out. "I feel like Yasu has become a stranger to me, but he pointed out that I did the same thing by keeping my secret about being an exorcist." She fidgeted uncomfortably while confiding in him. "We both lied to each other. We were both wrong and to make matters worse, I can't talk to ______ now. I know she's with Amaimon, and I don't know if he's done it yet, but he is going to mark her."
Seeing how broken his sister is, it's like a knife to the gut. "Yume-"
"Mephisto told us it's similar to an engagement. That he was able to talk Amaimon into just marking her instead of making her a mate." She sighs deeply. "Maybe, even if she's marked, as long as they aren't mates, I can save her."
Katashi can't hold back his confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"I know! I know! I don't like the idea of him marking her, but it's only marking her; she can still be saved. When she comes back, we're leaving. She'll never have to deal with them again and-"
“Yume! What do you mean it’s only marking her? He’s marking her. As in, marking her as his mate.”
“Yes, for in the future. She’s not his mate yet.”
He’s horrified by her lack of understanding. “Does Yasu know?” She nods, “Yes, of course. Mephisto told us at the same time. He’s not happy either, but we can still save her as long as they aren’t mates.” He wants to scream. Scream at her how stupid she’s being, scream at her that her husband is a monster, his sister isn’t this stupid. What is happening? “Yume, sit down. Please.” He guides her toward the sofa, concern laced in his tone. This is like a horrid nightmare.
Katashi sits on a seat to the left of the sofa. “Yume, that’s not a thing.” He begins carefully.
“Yes, it is. Mephisto told me and Yasu about it.”
Slowly, Katashi shakes his head. “No. If a demon leaves a mark, it’s not a one day you’ll be my mate thing. It’s a mark to show others you have a mate and an eternal bond. Sometimes demons will have relationships, but they rarely take a mate because they don’t want to be tied to another being forever. It’s like a contract; you can’t just end it. Demons rarely take mates because of that.” He speaks carefully and calmly.
He watches as the wheels turn in Yume’s head as she starts to link everything together. “That’s great!”
“Huh?”
Excitement fills her expression. “I was worried about the engagement, but I don’t have to worry if that was a lie. Once _____ comes back, we are leaving. I’ve looked into going abroad. Maybe Thailand to start? I know _____ will be upset, but she’ll like Thailand.” As she speaks, she jumps off the sofa. “I need to find her now. Thankfully, we’ve got passports.” She rambles on about leaving Japan and escaping from this awful situation. “Katashi, maybe you come too?”
Katashi’s hands start to shake. Why doesn’t she get it? Denial? What is wrong with her? “Yume, stop! Mephisto lied. Amaimon has already marked ______; they are mates now. There is no escape. Unless you kill Amaimon.”
“No, you’re wrong. I know ______ has gone through a lot….I need to speak to Yasu. We need to leave the country. There is no way _____ would’ve accepted it so soon. So, I know it didn’t happen.” She pats her pockets, checking for her phone and keys. “I’m going to find Yasu.”
“STOP! Amaimon has already marked her.” He repeats. “Mephisto isn’t the only one who lied to you. You think Yasu doesn’t know how the mating process works? Mephisto lied when Yasu was standing by your side, and he said nothing. Yasu is just as toxic.”
It’s as if she didn’t hear a word he said. She walks towards the door. “Katashi, I’m going to look into flights. We need to enter the country legally. I’ll call you when everything is settled, okay?”
She’s out the door, leaving him unable to reply.
“What is happening?”
You’re taking a towel off a bowl of dough when you get the text.
Yume has lost her mind.
Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you try to come up with a reply. Amaimon is across from you, biting into a popsicle like some kind of psychopath. You grimace as the feeling of biting into something cold crosses your mind.
______, she just left my apartment. I didn’t tell her you’re back, but she’s denying everything I told her. Can I call you? It’s important.
Instead of texting back, you call him, placing him on speaker. “Did you tell her?” You question. “About the mate thing.”
You put the phone on the counter, turning your focus back to the dough. “Yes and no. I didn’t tell her that Amaimon marked you. However, she believes that demons have a form of engagement before mating. She described it as a demon marking their future mate, but they aren’t actually mates yet.” You narrow your eyes at Amaimon while Katashi continues speaking. It seems you weren’t the only one misled about the true nature of marking. “I explained to her that this isn’t how it works, but she got excited, saying it makes escape easier. I told her he has marked you as his mate, but I didn’t mention that you told me that. _____, she wouldn’t hear it. She just began insisting that you wouldn’t do such a thing and leaving the country with you. It was really unsettling.”
He's so dumb. You raise your fist, punching the dough in front of you, maybe a bit harder than you’re supposed to. Amaimon stares at you. “You’re supposed to do that. It’s an important step.” You tell him while dumping the dough on the floured surface. “Hand me the rolling pin.”
“_____?” Katashi questions.
“I’m here. I just haven’t thought of a good response yet. My first instinct was to yell at you and just be furious. I don’t like to let out that type of toxicity.” You roll out the dough into a rectangle as you speak. “I’m making cinnamon rolls. Do you like cinnamon rolls?”
“Yes, but can we talk about this important matter?”
You grit your teeth, pushing a bit too hard into the dough as you roll it. “Sure, after I’ve calmed down.” Actually, I shouldn’t be doing this while angry. I’m going to ruin them, and then I’ll be pissed about that. “Amaimon, please help me roll this out into a rectangle.”
The demon with green-haired demon nods, throws the popsicle stick in the trash and walks around the bar to do as you requested.
“I told her he has marked you a mate. Why would you do that?” you hiss, trying to maintain a calm tone. “Katashi, she’s clearly losing her mind, and you just had to add more fuel to the fire? Are you stupid?” You rake your flour-covered hands through your hair. “It seems like she’s completely lost it.”
“I’m really worried _____.”
“I couldn’t care less," you say with a sigh. You don’t care about this drama. You don’t care about Katashi's worries and your mom's denial. “It seems karma has finally caught up with her; maybe it’ll catch up to my dad next.” While you talk, you grab a smaller bowl to measure the brown sugar, butter, and cinnamon needed for the filling. Amaimon finishes rolling the dough just as you finish mixing everything. “Katashi, do you understand what’s happened to me in just a month? It’s insane. Not only did I find out all this bullshit with my parents, but I also moved so quickly with Amaimon. It doesn’t make sense.” You hate to confess this to Katashi, but it’s the truth.
“I told you time has no meaning for beings like this.” Amaimon cuts in.
“Still! It’s odd.”
Amaimon shakes his head. “It’s not.”
Katashi coughs, interrupting the debate you’re having with Amaimon. “Actually _____, it’s not unusual for demons. While it’s rare for them to choose mates, it usually happens quickly when they find someone. If they take too long, they risk losing them to someone else, which is why they tend to act fast.”
You take in Katashi's explanation while spreading the mixture of brown sugar over the rolled-out dough. A comforting scent of cinnamon wafts through the air. "I’m surprised you know so much about demon relationships."
“Of course, I have a lot of knowledge on this subject. It would be embarrassing if I didn’t after exorcising demons for over thirty years." Katashi replies, and you can hear the embarrassment in his voice.
While Katashi talks, you begin rolling the dough. "If that's all, I’m a bit busy- Amaimon, could you grab the baking pan?" You take a serrated knife as he fetches the pan, hoping to achieve a smooth cut. The recipe advises cutting it into nine large pieces.
“How long does it take to bake.” Amaimon questions, placing the pan on the bar beside you.
“Twenty minutes, could you grease the pan? Wipe butter all over it.” You pass some softened butter to the demon king.
Katashi snaps. “_____, are you playing house? We need to help Yume.”
“Playing house? I’m doing what I usually do—doing homework, baking, watching anime, and reading.” While you speak, you wet a towel and pop it in the microwave for a few seconds. “This is my everyday life. Just a typical teenage life. Look, I really want nothing to do with this. I don’t know how many times I’m going to have to tell you that.”
“Being in a relationship with a demon king is not part of a typical teenage life,” Katashi responds dryly.
You carefully slice the dough, focusing hard to get even cuts. “Demon king?” you ask, measuring the first cinnamon roll you've cut. “I’m dating Ambrosius Faust.”
Amaimon observes you slicing each roll. The aroma is almost irresistible, and he briefly wonders if you would let him have a raw one like the cookie dough.
“If you touch them, I will kill you.” You glare at the demon king as he inches closer to the pan. “They’re not ready. I still need to put a warm towel on top for another forty minutes to let them rise, and then I can bake them.”
“You said twenty.”
“I mentioned it takes twenty minutes to bake; they still require additional rising." You gesture towards the spaces between the flat cinnamon rolls in the pan. "They’ll fill the pan as they rise. Plus, they won’t taste good unless I let them rise again.”
Katashi lets out a frustrated groan on the phone. You roll your eyes and suggest, "How about we meet somewhere tomorrow to talk it over? You might even get a cinnamon roll, assuming Amaimon doesn’t devour them all first."
“Forty minutes.” Amaimon looks at the covered pan momentarily before shifting his focus elsewhere. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing his lips to the mark on your neck. You protest with a huff. "Not yet," you say, reaching behind you to grab his hair and pull him away from your neck.
“But I want you,” Amaimon complains, nuzzling his face into your neck.
Instead of attempting to tug him away again, you sigh, reaching for the phone.
“Katashi, I’ll text you tomorrow afternoon. Bye.”
You let out a small laugh at his persistence. “You’re insatiable,” you comment, turning around in his embrace to face him.
He nods and leans down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss.
You surrender to the kiss, your fingers entwined in his soft hair. Amaimon deepens the kiss, and the aroma and flavor of strawberry candy envelop your senses as he parts his lips against yours.
"Wait," you say breathlessly, trying to catch your breath. Amaimon stares blankly at you momentarily before burying his face in your neck. “Amaimon, leave the mark alone. I need to clean up.” You complain when he presses his hot tongue to the mark. “Someone else can do it.”
You tug at his hair to pull him away again. “I need to clean; we have forty minutes. Let me clean up quickly, and then we can watch a TV show.” Amaimon gives you a quick kiss on the mark before releasing you completely. “Okay.”
Quickly, you organize the baking ingredients and clean up the kitchen while glancing at Amaimon, whose golden eyes watch your every move intently.
“Are you going to choose something to watch, Amaimon?"
“I am already watching something.”
“Idiot.”
Cleaning up doesn’t take long; once finished, you settle on the sofa next to Amaimon. “I thought we were going to watch something,” you say to the demon king, who pulls you into his arms, gently pulling your shirt aside to plant soft kisses on your shoulder.
You reach for the remote and turn on the TV. “What do you want to watch?”
“Anything is fine,” Amaimon replies, his lips still pressed against your skin.
You scroll through the different options until you find an interesting movie. Just as it begins, Amaimon keeps kissing your neck.
“Should I turn it off?” you ask, as he ignores the movie, and his actions are too distracting for you to truly focus.
“It doesn’t matter,” Amaimon mumbles against your skin. “I just want to be close to you.”
As the movie progresses, Amaimon’s kisses become more heated, his hands wandering over your body. You shift in his lap so that you’re facing him, feeling his arousal pressing against your thigh as he pulls you closer for a deeper kiss. A blaring alarm jolts your attention from Amaimon. “They’re done rising.”
You slip off the sofa before he has time to react. “I’m going to put them in the oven.”
Amaimon’s gaze is fixed on you as you grab the rolls and open the oven, placing them in and setting the timer for twenty minutes. When you head back to the sofa, you awkwardly meet Amaimon's eyes. “Do you need help with that?” you ask hesitantly, your eyes drifting to the noticeable outline in his pants.
“Twenty minutes isn’t enough time.”
“Twenty minutes is enough for me to give you a blow job.” The ease with which the words leave your mouth catches Amaimon's attention, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “It's going to take longer than that because I want you to finish in my mouth and on my dick before we're done.” A wicked grin spreads across Amaimon's face as he watches you blush. “You can't just say things like that!”
"I doubt that can be accomplished in only twenty minutes _____; I prefer not to rush through it."
“Amaimon, stop.”
“I'd rather watch you squirming beneath me.”
“Amaimon. Stop being so vulgar.”
“But you’re the one who suggested sucking my dick.”
“Amaimon!”
You turn your back to the demon king, trying to hide the blush that spreads across your face. “I was just trying to offer some help,” you mutter. “We’re watching Demon Slayer. Going to watch Tanjiro slay all the asshole demons.” You huff, sitting beside him on the sofa.
“Those demons are weak. They can’t even stand in the sun. Why do humans like to watch it?” Amaimon stares at the screen with disinterest.
“I like it.”
“Yes, you’re odd.”
A sudden realization strikes, making you leap off the couch. "I forgot the icing!" Quickly, you head to the kitchen, grabbing a bowl and all the ingredients needed for the cream cheese frosting. As you whisk everything together, Amaimon appears beside you, curiously eyeing the white mixture. “It smells sweet; I want some.”
You quickly swat away the hand, reaching for the bowl. "You'll have to wait until the rolls are done," you say, motioning towards the stove. The timer has only two minutes left.
As the timer goes off, you're still smoothing out the lumps in the icing. "Could you take the rolls out?" you ask, cringing as he opens the oven barehanded and retrieves the pan of rolls. Place them here, and I’ll ice them."
Amaimon nods, placing the hot tray on the counter beside you. He leans in close, his hot breath tickling your ear. “Can I cover you with icing?” he speaks in that annoyingly innocent, blunt tone.
You elbow him in the side. “Focus, Amaimon. The rolls.”
He blinks. “But _____, we have longer than twenty minutes now.”
You brush off his comment, fixating on the delicious aroma of the cinnamon rolls. Your mouth begins to water as you grab one from the pan and transfer it onto a plate. "Here, try it."
As Amaimon enjoys the cinnamon roll, your attention shifts to the espresso machine hidden in the kitchen corner. A latte feels just right at this moment. You make the espresso with ease but find it challenging to steam the milk. “I think I need more practice," you whisper to yourself after tasting the warm latte. It’s decent, yet not what you had anticipated. The foam isn’t quite as perfect as you hoped. “Are the cinnamon rolls good?” You grab one for yourself, with only nine; you know if you don’t take one now, there won’t be any left.
After a quick shower, you change into an oversized t-shirt and underwear before entering Amaimon’s bedroom.
“Here.” Amaimon offers you a piece of black cloth, which you gently take from him. The fabric feels soft and silky against your skin. He’s dressed in his usual outfit except for the jacket that rests on the back of a chair in the corner—Amaimon reclines on the bed, propped up by his arms. “What’s this for?” you ask quietly. "Tie me down.”
“What? No!”
Amaimon reaches for you, tugging you on the bed with him. “Why? You want to.” His lips brush against the shell of your ear as he continues speaking. “Go ahead, my queen. Have your way with me.” He grasps your jaw in his head, slowly turning it to face the headboard, “See? You can tie my hands to that.” Your eyes zoom in on the spot he’s referring to; it is the perfect spot if you’re tying someone to the bed. He releases your jaw, pulling you into his lap so you can sit face to face. Gently, he takes your hands, placing them over the buttons on his vest. “You should take my clothes off first.” He sits back, using his arms again for support while staring at you in his lap, expectedly. You can see the amusement in his eyes as you remove his vest. Then, his tie.
He doesn’t make it easy on you to remove his shirt. Instead of helping, he watches you with amusement as you struggle to push it down his back. “I can’t believe you,” you huff, tossing the shirt aside. Amaimon shifts back toward the headboard, holding the fabric up. “Tie me up ______.”
“How do I tie you up? I feel like I should google this first.”
“Why would you google it?”
“What if I accidentally hurt you?”
“…..” Amaimon gazes at you blankly.
You huff, snatching the cloth from him, and climb over him; he kindly lifts his arms so it’s easier for you to tie him. “Am I supposed to be using a certain type of knot?” You question, sitting on his abdomen while debating how you’re meant to tie him.
Once he’s properly secured to the headboard, you lean back, and your face flushes at the sight of him lying shirtless, bound to the headboard. "You can take off the rest," he gestures to his lower half, still clad in those peculiar burgundy pants. Hesitantly, you grasp his belt. “It’s intriguing how shy you are acting. Just an hour ago, you were so bold. ‘Twenty minutes is enough for me to give you a blow job.’ Remember?”
You frown. “Amaimon, shut up.”
He shrugs. Annoyed with how nonchalant he is, you sit cross-legged to his left, casually running your fingers along the waistband of his pants. His tail flicks back and forth as he waits for you to remove the rest of his clothes.
“Wait, what am I supposed to do?”
“Remove my clothes.”
“I mean after that.” You tug on his belt while questioning him.
“Whatever you want.”
“But what?”
Amaimon stares at you blankly for a good moment before laughing at you.
Annoyed, you slap his abdomen. “You’re lucky I love you.”
Amaimon nods his head in agreement. “Yes.”
Slightly embarrassed, you remove his belt, quickly followed by his pants and underwear. Your eyes scan his body; the most noticeable thing is how relaxed he is. Of course, Amaimon notices you staring at him and flicks his tail against your hand. “Go ahead, touch me.” You run your hand over his upper right thigh but don’t touch him where you know he’s asking. Slowly, you slide your right hand just under his lips, tracing the bottom of his lip.
His brow raises. “Do you want me to show you what to do?”
“What?”
He ducks his head down, causing your fingers to touch his lips. Then, without hesitation, he opens his mouth, bringing two of your fingers into his warm mouth, gently running his tongue over them and sucking. Your face burns as you realize what he’s implying. Slowly, you pull your fingers from his mouth, sliding them down his chest, leaving a line of his salvia covering him.
“My hips have bruises shaped like your hands.” You huff, tracing your fingers over his unmarked hips. “Honestly, I feel a bit jealous. You can leave these marks on me, but I can’t leave any marks on you. Except for the one on your throat.” You dig your nails into his hips as you speak.
Amaimon observes you pinching his hip. “Maybe you’re not trying hard enough.”
You glance down at Amaimon's member, admiring its size and girth. “No, you just heal too quickly.” Your fingertips trace a slow path along its length, marveling at the warmth and smoothness of his skin. Despite your actions, Amaimon remains stoic, his facial expressions unchanged as he stares at you almost blankly. You narrow your eyes while boldly wrapping your hand around his cock, feeling its strength and heat pulsing beneath your touch. You give it a soft squeeze while he’s hardening in your hand; his face remains unmoved. “Really? You’re going to just stare at me blankly?”
“Do you want me to act like a sub? I saw it in one of Big Brother’s manga.” Amaimon casually comments, staring at the ceiling. You pinch his hip. “I’m going to gag you.”
His tail lightly brushes against your hand. “Go ahead.”
You sigh and lean down, resting your forehead against his. “You’re so annoyingly cute. You know, I can’t find anything to dislike about you. Why do you seem so perfect?”
“Because I’m your mate.”
"Even before that," you say, reaching to grasp his member once more. "It's strange; you're the first person I've ever truly been interested in." You continue sitting up as you speak and gently pump his cock, adding, "You're also the first person I've ever felt was a true friend and the first person I've had romantic feelings for." You lean down and run your tongue along the tip of his member, causing him to let out a low growl.
You continue to pump his cock, now adding a slight twist with each stroke. He lets out another growl and leans his head back against the pillows.
“Do you want me to keep going?” you ask, tilting your head.
“Yes,” he grunts, clinching his fists above his head.
A soft, sly smile spreads across your lips as you take more of him into your mouth, the salty taste of his skin lingering on your tongue. With a teasing flick of your tongue, you lightly suck on him, eliciting a low moan from deep within his throat. Encouraged by his response, you pick up the pace, bobbing your head up and down with a careful rhythm.
Amaimon raises his hips, and you sink your nails into his waist, forcing him back down. He lets out an annoyed growl, yet you continue to suck harder, intent on making him lose control.
“______, stop.” Amaimon groans, attempting to pull his hips away from you. But you stubbornly hold on, lowering your head to the base of his cock.
His cock twitches in your mouth, and he warns you again. As you dismiss his warning, he emits a frustrated sound; finally succumbing to his desires, Amaimon releases into your mouth with a loud moan of pleasure. His flavor envelops your senses, and you savor every drop, relishing the musky, earthy notes on your tongue. It’s an experience that’s truly unique.
Slowly, you sit back up, lifting your hand to wipe the drool from your mouth. “I was expecting that to be gross. It wasn’t.” You comment with the earthy flavor still in the back of your throat. “It’s because I’m your mate. It would’ve been different if it happened before then.” Amaimon replies while using his claws to free himself from the binds. "
“It would’ve been gross before?” You raise a brow. From what you’ve read, you were a bit nervous you’d gag and possibly even throw up.
“I don’t know. Take your clothes off; you’re overdressed.”
“Why don’t you do it? You made me strip you.” You pout.
Amaimon sits up, pulling you onto his lap, his strong arms secure around your waist. “I’ll undress you if that’s what you want.” He kisses your neck, nipping at the skin lightly.
You sigh with satisfaction and tilt your head slightly, allowing him greater access to your neck. He removes your shirt with a quick tug and then slides off your underwear, leaving you completely exposed to him.
He leans back slightly to look at you. “Beautiful,” he whispers before moving in to capture your lips in an intense kiss.
As the kiss deepens, he gently lays you back on the bed while your hands wrap around his neck. Amaimon lets his hands glide down to gently cup your breasts, massaging them softly before breaking the kiss to place tender kisses down your neck and chest.
You let out a soft moan as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and sucking lightly. The feeling sends chills through you, and you lean into him, craving more.
He pulls away from your breast with a trail of wet kisses, his lips leaving a burning sensation on your skin. He moves down your stomach, the heat from his body searing against your sensitive flesh. When he reaches the curve of your hips, he pauses and looks up at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. He spreads your legs, settling comfortably between them as his fingers gently part your folds, revealing your most intimate center to him. And then, without hesitation, he plunges his talented tongue deep inside you.
“Amaimon!” Your fingers grip the strands of his hair with pleasure and desperation. His skilled tongue works, flicking back and forth over your sensitive clit before plunging deep inside of you. It’s almost too much to handle when he sucks gently on your clit, causing you to jerk and writhe in response. He holds you tightly, his arms wrapped around your quivering thighs, pulling you closer against his face as he swirls his tongue around your clit, sending waves of intense pleasure through your entire being. As an orgasm washes over you, he holds you close still, refusing to allow you to move until he’s had his fill.
With a growl of need, he finally releases you, only to climb over you, pressing himself against your entrance, teasing you with just the tip of him. “Beg.”
“What?”
“Beg, beg for me to fuck you.”
“Please, Amaimon.” You whine, trying to lift your hips.
“No.”
You groan as he presses your hips back down. “Please, Demon King of Earth, your queen needs you.” You beg, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer.
With a feral growl, he slams into you; you gasp at the sensation and dig your nails along his back. “Amaimon.”
His pace is slow and deliberate at first but soon becomes faster and more urgent as both of your desires heighten. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer as he thrusts into you with an almost primal need. Moans escape from both of your lips as pleasure builds between you.
As you feel a second orgasm building, Amaimon abruptly slows down. Your breath catches in your throat as he withdraws completely. “What?”
“Get on all fours.” He demands, pulling away from you.
His words shock you, but you don’t argue, slowly, you shift to the position he asked for. He moves closer, delicately tracing a claw down your spine. You steady your arms, slightly concerned they might give out as Amaimon takes his place behind you.
With a swift motion, he enters you from behind, and you almost scream, clawing at the mattress. Somehow, he’s deeper than before, gripping your hips painfully tight.
One hand firmly grips your hip while the other reaches around to your front. Amaimon's skilled fingers caress and rub circles on your clit, sending electrifying shockwaves through your body. The dual stimulation overwhelms you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body trembles with pleasure as the tension within you builds to its breaking point. It doesn’t take long before an intense release leaves you trembling and gasping for air. Amaimon maintains his movements within you, eventually reaching his climax. With one last groan, he releases inside of you.
He pulls out and watches with slight humor as you drop to the bed on your stomach. You’re too exhausted to move yourself; Amaimon lays beside you on the bed and tugs you, positioning you to lie on his chest.
“Amaimon.”
“Yes?”
“Beg?” You lift yourself to stare down at your mate. “Yes.” Amaimon nods. “I wasn’t expecting that.” You tap your fingers against his chest. “I noticed.”
“Did you like being tied to the headboard?”
“Did you like me being tied to the headboard?”
You gaze into his golden eyes. “I think I’d rather you not be tied up, but if you like it….”
“I prefer not, but I didn’t mind it. I’ll do anything for you."
You raise your hand and pinch his cheek. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
Notes:
MC is so tired of the BS with everyone, but she does feel a bit bad for Katashi, which is why she agreed to meet him.
Chapter 30: Chapter 30
Summary:
Amaimon is finally back!!!! and he looks sooooo good. I love so much, I'm so happy. Now I've got like 50 ideas in my head including the one I'm writing like a little story about a reader who basically falls head over heels at first sight, it's mainly on my tumblr - fanfictionstuff
I legit screamed when he came on the screen, then I had to pause it because I couldn't stop grinning like an idiot. He's so cute. I love him. I'm hoping this season brings more fans for our perfect earth king. It's been too fucking long since we've seen him.
I am open to request
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
When you wake up the following day, Amaimon wraps his arms around you, keeping you against him. You attempt to get up, but his arms tighten, singling he’s awake. “What time is it?” You groan, attempting to escape Amaimon’s embrace. Your phone is buzzing, and multiple notifications lightening up. You lean over to grab the phone, wiggling a bit because Amaimon doesn’t want to let you go, and wince at the bright light coming from your phone. “Turn it off and go back to sleep,” Amaimon complains, trying to take the phone from you. “It’s my mom.”
“I don’t care. Go back to sleep.”
You blink a few times to focus your eyes, checking the time. 6:55 Seriously? She couldn’t wait at least five more minutes?
“Hi, Mom.”
“Where are you?”
“Uh, in bed, where I usually am on the weekend at seven in the morning.” You place your head on Amaimon’s chest, his heartbreak nearly lulling you back to sleep. Amaimon takes the phone from your hand, puts it on speaker, and runs a hand through your hair.
“Are you with Amaimon?”
“Mhm.”
Silence follows, and you’re almost asleep again when she speaks up. “Can we meet? Just me and you? No Amaimon, Dad, or Katashi.”
“Nope.”
“_____.”
“Mom, it is seven in the morning; I was sleeping. Did you expect me to meet you now?” The way Amaimon is gently running his claws against your back has you fairly certain he’s trying to lull you back to sleep.
“It’s important.”
“If it’s regarding running away, escaping Amaimon, and all that other stuff, then no. It’s not important. I’m not escaping Amaimon; You’ve got all these dumb ideas for my future. I’m going to stay here, graduate, marry Amaimon, go to university, get a job, and have a family with Amaimon.” As you speak, you reach for his tail, running your hand along it. When your mom doesn’t answer, you turn your attention to Amaimon. “Will our kids have cute tails like this?”
“Most likely.”
“I hope so; I love your tail.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed.”
“______!”
You’re unfazed by your mother’s reaction.
“I want a little boy that looks just like Amaimon.” You’re saying it to get under your mother’s skin, but the more you think about it, the more you can genuinely picture a little Amaimon.
“_____, please.” Your mom sighs.
“Amaimon, do you want a boy or girl?”
“Both.”
“Both? What if we have like ten boys and still no girl?”
“Eleven might be a girl; we have plenty of time.”
You grin and reach for your phone. “Mom, I’m going back to bed. Maybe call again around lunch? Though I’d appreciate it if I didn’t have to hear you go on about running away from Amaimon. That’s not going to happen.” She doesn’t reply, you wait for a moment, then sigh. “Okay, well. I’m going back to bed now. Please don’t call me this early again unless it’s an emergency.” You end the call.
Raising yourself a bit, you place your forehead against Amaimon’s. “Eleven kids? You might have to go without your girl.” You tease. Amaimon shakes his head, disagreeing. “If you think about it, eleven isn’t that many. I don’t think you’ve truly comprehended how long we will be together. Eleven kids within a thousand years are nothing; we’ll be together much longer than a thousand years.”
You raise a brow; he’s right. “Do you have kids?”
“What?”
“You’re ancient, so do you have any kids?" You try to sound indifferent as you ask him, making it seem like it’s no big deal if he does. But the thought that he could have children with someone else…
“No.”
You bite your lower lip, attempting to hide a smile. “You’ll be the only one I have children with. I didn’t know I wanted children until earlier this week, remember?”
“From none to at least ten?”
“I was thinking at least a hundred.”
You snort. “We’ll start with one; you might hate fatherhood.”
“You think I’ll be a bad father?”
“I didn’t say that, and you better not be if we’re having a hundred kids.”
At some point, Amaimon was able to lull you back to sleep after your conversation. But your mother took your words seriously, and you’re awoken again by your phone buzzing, thankfully at a decent time, and it’s a text. “Did you go back to sleep?” You glance at Amaimon.
“No.”
“You could’ve gotten up, you know.” You sigh, sitting up to stretch. “I hope she doesn’t think she can convince me to meet her alone. I wouldn’t put it past her to try to kidnap me.” You grab the phone, sending your mom a quick message to let her know you’ll call her in an hour or so before slipping from the bed and walking towards the closest to get clothing to change into. “I’m going to take a quick shower.”
After your shower, you put on jeans and a T-shirt. You spot Amaimon on the sofa, engrossed in a history documentary. You approach him, sliding onto his lap with your legs on either side of his thighs, and wrap your arms around his shoulders. He shifts the lollipop to the side of his mouth as he welcomes you into his arms. With his characteristic bluntness and vacant gaze, Amaimon says, “Oh. My innocent queen is becoming bolder.” You laugh and kiss him gently. “I love you.” Then, you pull back and simply gaze at him.
“Is something wrong?” he replies, rolling the lollipop in his mouth and giving you a puzzled look.
“You’re so pretty.” You run a finger along one of his pointed ears. “Imagine if we hadn’t ended up in the same class.”
“I would have stopped you in the hall to take the cookies; I could smell them in your bag, and then I would’ve found you after classes so you’d bake me more.” You raise a brow, but you know he’s probably right. Amaimon started following you around over cookies. It’s probable he’d find you in the hallway the day you tried to make friends. “Well, good thing you have a sweet tooth.” You grin, pressing your lips against his. “I love you so much. Meeting Ambrosius Faust is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“You’re acting odd.”
“I know. I’ve been thinking about how my parents and Katashi want to separate us, and it makes me so angry. They don’t want to acknowledge how happy I am with you and how deeply I love you. I can't even imagine a life without you; it's like trying to picture something that doesn't exist. All I can see is a future with you.”
You press your forehead against his. “I get where mom is coming from, but I really wish she’d listen to me. I don’t want to see her today if she’s going to try to talk me into leaving you.”
Amaimon pulls back, holding your face. "No one will separate us. Your mother doesn’t grasp the connection of mates since your father didn’t take her as a mate.”
“Angels can take mates?”
“Yes.”
“So, why wouldn’t Dad have made Mom his mate?”
“I don’t know why Yasu didn’t make Yume his mate. After a small taste of you, I might not have loved you right away, but I knew you’d be my mate. The idea of someone else having you. It made me furious. I didn’t want to live without you.”
“When you say taste…"
“Metaphorically, though the physical taste of you…” He runs his tongue along his lower lip. “Every part of you tastes delicious.”
You blush at his words, pulling the lollipop from his mouth and leaning in to kiss him again. Amaimon deepens the kiss, his hands tangling in your hair. “Amaimon,” you gasp as he moves to nibble on your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “We have to stop.” You try to catch your breath, pushing him away gently and placing the lollipop back in his mouth.
You brush some hair out of his eyes. “I’ll text Mom where to meet. What do you want for lunch?”
“You.”
“What do you want for lunch you can have in front of my mom?”
“Cake.”
Why do I bother asking? You slide off his lap. “I’m going to text Mom and tell her to meet us at that restaurant with good cheesecake then.”
When you reach the restaurant, your mother is standing by a bench outside the restaurant with someone you didn’t expect. “Dad? What are you doing here?” You turn to your mother. “You didn’t say Dad was coming.”
Yume stands anxiously next to Yasu, still upset with him over the secrets, and they haven’t had the opportunity to discuss it yet. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he would be here,” she confesses.
“I’m here to make sure Amaimon doesn’t kill your mother.”
“Amaimon wouldn’t-“
“Yes. He would. You’re ignorant.” Yasu frowns at you, stepping closer to you. Amaimon lets out a low growl, but Yasu ignores it. In favor of grasping your jaw, he slowly turns your head to get a better view of the right side of your throat. “Extremely ignorant. If Yume pushed too far and actually found a way to take you from him, Amaimon would kill her instantly. It wouldn’t matter if she hadn’t been able to get out of the city with you yet. He’d kill her with this mark being so fresh.”
You slap his hand away but don’t argue. Amaimon has become a lot more sensitive since marking you, and he admitted to being more sensitive because of it. ”It doesn’t matter because I’ve told Mom I’m staying with Amaimon multiple times.”
Yasu shrugs, “Okay.”
“You’re okay that I’m with him?”
“No. But, it’s not up to me with that mark on your neck.”
You notice your mom moving to take your dad's arm, but she hesitates, dropping her arm, and seems upset. So, instead, she turns her focus to you. “Let’s go inside,"
As you enter, the waitress greets you warmly but hesitates briefly, sensing the tension among the four of you. “Please, follow me," she says. She quickly seats you in a booth, hands over the menus, and takes your drink orders. “I’ll be back in a moment with your drinks.”
The menu has multiple selections, including a page dedicated to their cheesecake options. “Amaimon, what do you want to eat?”
“Cake.”
You pinch his thigh. “What do you want to eat that you’ll be stealing off my plate.”
“It doesn’t matter. You choose.”
With no special requests from Amaimon, you know what you want to order, so you flip to the cheesecake section of the menu and show it to him. "Here you go; choose a cheesecake! They have some new seasonal flavors to try."
Yasu and Yume observe you quietly; you lack the desire to engage in conversation, so you focus solely on Amaimon. Leaning closer, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Which one do you prefer?" He taps his claw on a rich, dark chocolate cake. “Oh, that looks good. I think I’ll go with the classic." Amaimon nods. “_____, can you make this one?” He points at a chocolate lava cake. “I don’t know; you could order it if you want it.”
“I want you to make one.”
Grinning, you pinch his ear. “Or, you could make it for me.”
Amaimon turns, making your noses touch. “Alright, I will grant my queen anything she desires.”
When the waitress returns with your drinks, setting them down with practiced ease, she offers a polite smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Have you decided on your orders?" she asks.
“I’ll have this burger," you say, pointing to the double cheeseburger option. Even if Amaimon takes half, you’ll still have a whole burger left. "And I’d like these cheesecakes too." After placing your order, you hand the menu back to her and shift your attention back to Amaimon. “I love you.”
“I know.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your mom’s brow twitch at the fact Amaimon didn’t say the words back. “You’re making my mom angry.”
“I know.”
The food arrives swiftly, or maybe it just feels fast because you’ve been captivated by Amaimon’s gaze for what seems like forever. He tried to look away at one moment, but when you drew his focus back, he rested his head against the booth, indulging your desire.
Yume clears her throat, redirecting your focus from Amaimon. “You claim to love him and desire to be together, but where do you envision yourself in ten years? It resembles the classic scenario of a good girl attracted to a bad boy."
“I’m going to go to university, we’re going to have kids, and I’ll get a job. Amaimon is going to be a stay-at-home dad.”
Yasu arches an eyebrow. “A family, huh? Stay-at-home dad? You don’t strike me as the fatherly type, much less a stay-at-home dad.” Yasu gazes blankly at Amaimon, who is preoccupied with the chocolate cheesecake. “You could at least show some respect to your father-in-law.”
Amaimon casts a lazy glance at Yasu. “What do you want me to say? You’re right.”
“That you’re not the fatherly type?”
“That I don’t ‘strike’ someone as the fatherly type. The only person who has ever looked at me and believed I could be a good father is ______. I’ll give _____ everything she desires, including children.”
Yume observes the exchange with a tense jaw. Yasu spoke to her while waiting for you and Amaimon, explaining that you and Amaimon cannot be separated now and that she needs to accept this, as Amaimon will be more sensitive with the mark being so fresh. “I don’t think you understand how mates function. She will always choose him over you. If you try anything, he will kill you, and she won’t step in because she’d rather be with him. Additionally, in the early months, mates tend to be more sensitive; I’d be shocked if he doesn’t growl when he sees you hug her something.” It made her sick, but the seriousness of his tone made it clear he was speaking the truth.
“Anyway, let’s talk about something lighter; I don’t feel like being angry at now. I’ve had a great morning. If you ruin it, I’m leaving and probably won’t speak to you for at least a month.” You warn your parents.
“We could talk about our hundred kids,” Amaimon suggests bluntly.
“If we have a hundred kids, I’ll forget their names.”
Amaimon shrugs. “We could make a list and put it somewhere.”
“You always have an answer for everything.”
Yume observes the interaction quietly, listening as Amaimon playfully teases you about children and the way he interacts with you. He’s difficult to interpret, showing little emotion; even now, as he jokes about your future together, he’s saying it with a blank stare. You, on the other hand, allow emotions to ooze through you. Your smile brightens at the mention of children, and you instinctively reach out to sit close beside him. It’s a side of you she hasn't witnessed before. You aren’t just awkwardly hanging over him with him showing no interest. Despite his stoic expression, he embraces your affection, leaning in as you playfully tug at him.
Yasu grins at the interaction. You want kids with Amaimon? That’s perfect, especially with the marks so fresh. “When do you plan to have kids?” he asks nonchalantly while taking a bite of his burger. You stare at him, puzzled by his question. “Uh? I’m not sure. Maybe a few years after I graduate.”
“Graduate high school?”
“More like university…” You glance at Amaimon, who’s staring blankly at your father.
“Really? I assumed you’d want a baby as soon as possible, like right after high school. They’d be adorable. Have you seen pictures of ______ as a baby?” He observes Amaimon intently. “This is the ideal age for her to start a family, too." Noticing a glint in Amaimon’s eyes, he smirks. “I’d love grandkids, maybe not a hundred of them..."
Yume snaps. “What are you saying?! It’s bad enough he’s marked her as a mate, and now you’re trying to push her into having children. She graduates high school in a few months! You want her to have children now?”
“If her and Amaimon are ready.” Yasu shrugs.
“They’re not!”
“Yume, please don’t yell; we’re in a restaurant.”
You tense, listening to the conversation, Why is he talking about this? Wait, does Dad want me to have a child now? Why? What parent wants their high schooler to have a child as soon as possible? Amaimon lifts his hand, rubbing his hand where the mark is, he’s rubbing it like it’s irritating him. Is something wrong with it? Does it hurt? “This mark might be fresh, but I’m not weak.” His eyes narrow at Yasu. “The children will come when_____ wants them. We have thousands of years. Plus, she’s on birth control.”
Yume’s jaw drops, and it slowly starts to click.
“You mean the IUD that expires next month?”
“Yasu!” “Dad!” You and your mother shout simultaneously.
Amaimon drops his hand on the table and replies, "I’m not weak, but I should thank you. I’ll pick up some condoms on my way home.” He nudges you out of the booth. “Bye.”
“Wait, you haven’t eaten.” Yume tries to stop you, but Amaimon already has your hand, pulling you out of the restaurant.
“Sure, sure.” Yasu relaxes into his seat, waving the two of you off.
“What’s the matter with you!” Yume hisses the moment you’re out of sight. “You shouldn’t be talking about personal matters like that. It’s disrespectful. How could you casually say that? Then there’s the fact you’re trying to talk him into having children with _____?"
Yasu lets out a sigh. "He’s essentially her husband; he likely knows she’s using birth control already."
“You shouldn’t speak about it in public. Also, why are you trying to persuade him to have a child now?” Yume takes a deep breath. If she remains here much longer, she feels she will explode. “I need to leave.”
Yasu grins as he watches Yume walk out of the restaurant. “I guess they forgot Amaimon isn’t the only one with a sensitive mark.”
You walk quickly beside Amaimon, your mind a jumbled mess. You can't believe your father would bring up something like that in public. It was embarrassing and inappropriate. And the fact that he was trying to push you and Amaimon into having children so soon...it makes you question his intentions.
Amaimon squeezes your hand gently, "Are you okay?" he asks, staring ahead.
You shake your head, “I’m confused. Do you think he’s planning something?”
Amaimon shrugs. “Angels are odd. Should we get some condoms?”
“No.”
“No?” His eyes land on the mark on your throat. “That bastard.”
Notes:
Yasu continues to be an asshole. Luckily, Amaimon is a good mate, sorry Yasu ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯
Chapter 31: Chapter 31
Notes:
I left out details about the thing with Amaimon and Yasu for a reason, not quite at the point of sharing that much about Yasu
I wanted to add this chapter to how I view Amaimon's body. How is he fitting a huge ass reptile tail in his pants? So I have him a tail like Rin and Lucifer for his less demonic body. Did you see him last week? No way a tail that size is in his pants.
Chapter Text
“When do you plan to have kids?”
“Really? I assumed you’d want a baby as soon as possible.”
“This is the ideal age for her to start a family.”
“If her and Amaimon are ready.”
You lie against Amaimon’s chest on the sofa as your father’s words keep replaying in your mind. You’re trying to watch a movie with Amaimon, but you can’t stop your mind from wondering. “They’d be adorable.”
“Amaimon?” You whisper, listening to his heartbeat. “Yes?”
“I-“ You struggle to find the words. He’s your mate, and you should be able to speak to him freely about anything. But, you have no idea what his reaction might be. “I’ve been thinking about…” How are you supposed to say this?” Amaimon runs his claws through your hair soothingly. “I want a baby.”
“I know.”
“….I want a baby now.”
He doesn’t hesitate with his answer. “I know. But you’ll have to wait.” It’s the same tone as always, but there seems to be something else you can’t exactly pinpoint. You absentmindedly dig your nails into his chest. “What do you mean?” He continues his actions, gently scratching your head with each stroke. “If you want a baby after three months, I will give you a baby. But not before.”
“Why?”
With his free hand, he taps his claw against the mark on your neck. “The mark, part of the sensitivity, is wanting to reproduce. We can have a baby if you feel the same way when the mark is less sensitive.”
His comment is surprising but suddenly makes sense of your feelings. Especially since children hadn’t even been on your mind until you made that casual comment, and even then, you had just said it offhandedly, mentioning your future plans. You lift your head to gaze at him. “It’s sensitive for you, too. Does that mean you feel the same? Does it make you feel like you want a baby now?”
Amaimon’s golden gaze burns into you; you could stare into those eyes all day. “Yes.”
“So…”
He pushes your head back down. “No _____.” You sigh but nod, knowing he’s right. Your rational side screams at you that you’re an idiot. There’s so much you haven’t experienced, and while having a child now wouldn’t stop you from experiencing these things, it would put a hold on it. “You didn’t tell me about this side effect, but then again, you didn’t tell me marking me would make me your mate.” Amaimon wraps his arms around you, holding you against him. “I didn’t think about it.” He admits, “I still don’t understand why you thought after I marked you that you wouldn’t be my mate.”
“I told you! We have dating, engagement, and then marriage. I didn’t know you were going to skip engagement.”
His tone becomes mocking, “Maybe you should do more research on demons.”
Your eyes widen, and you quickly pull yourself away from his chest while glaring down at him. He’s not wrong, though. I don’t know nearly enough about demons. I can’t believe I have a demon as a mate, and I basically know nothing. “Asshole. Well, do you know anything about angel Nephilim?” He shakes his head. “Not much. Do you know anything about them?”
“I hate you.” You pout.
“Then get off me.”
Amaimon smirks at your look of disbelief. “No, you’re too comfortable.” You complain, lying back down against his chest.
“I didn’t tell you about it because I didn’t think about it.” Amaimon admits, “What your father did tonight, he was trying to awaken the desire in you. The desire to have children is stronger now because of the mark, but it’ll fade within a few months.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“The strong desire to have children, why?” Slowly, you lift your head once more. “You hadn’t thought about children until I mentioned it.” Amaimon nods in agreement. “Because it’s never been a desire for me.”
“You’re not making sense.”
Amaimon glances to the side, seemingly trying to find the correct way to explain this. For him, it’s just something he knows; it’s not easily explained. “I’ve never had a desire for children until I learned my mate wanted them. You’ve always wanted children, so the desire was already within you, and the mark has strengthened your desire for now.”
“But you said you want a baby now, too?”
“Yes.”
“So, why do you want a baby now if it isn’t a strong desire for you?”
“Because you’re my mate. Our desires will intertwine. I desire to keep my mate happy; my mate wants a baby, so what do I also want?” You can feel his frustration as he attempts to explain the situation to you, running a finger along his ear, you continue your questions.
“So, Dad…”
“Yasu knows you want children, so he knows your desire for children now is stronger and will affect me. I thought he was trying to push me into letting my desire take over. But I realized I wasn’t his target.” His brow furrows as he speaks.
“Are my questions annoying you?”
“No.”
“Amaimon?”
“Yes?”
“Would you have waited to mark me if you knew the effect it’d have on me?”
“No.”
“That’s selfish.”
Slowly, he nods in agreement. “I am selfish.”
Biting your lip to hide your grin, you press your face against his chest. “I’m glad.”
The following day, you find yourself in your dorm room, nervously tapping your fingers on the desk as you attempt to concentrate on the text before you. You have a mountain of work to catch up on, but Amaimon left an hour earlier, and you’re worried. He appeared frustrated when he glanced at the text that caused him to leave. As a result, instead of completing your homework as you should be, you’re gazing at an open textbook, unable to absorb the words on the pages. “I hate this.”
Yasu grins as a figure approaches him. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite son-in-law!" His smile grows broader when Amaimon remains unresponsive, his usual bored expression firmly in place. “What do you want?” Yasu gives a faux look of hurt. “That’s no way to speak to your father-in-law. Oh well, it doesn’t matter. Do you have plans for the upcoming war?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Really? Do you need me to spell it out for you? The war between Assiah and Gehenna. Lucifer is attempting to open the gate as we speak. Have you been out of touch? What will you do? Surely, you’re not thinking of fighting for the humans. But why would you take a chance by aligning with Lucifer in this war? You should think about a third alternative.” Yasu watches Amaimon closely, trying to see beyond his mask of indifference. “Just steer clear of it all. Satan and Lucifer won’t harm me or my family as long as we don’t side with the humans." Yasu pauses, but Amaimon remains silent. “I’m sorry. Do you grasp what I’m saying? Please tell me ______ didn’t fall in love with an idiot. Fine.” He scoffs. “Not only will this ensure your safety, but also the safety of _____ and any children you might have. It’s the most logical choice, isn’t it? Why wouldn’t you want to protect your family? I might not care about you, but I need to ensure my child and future grandchildren are safe. You play a crucial role in that._______ will always choose you. So, you must make the safest choice.” Yasu lifts his hand. “One," indicating with his first finger. “I want my daughter safe. Two,” raising another finger. “I want my future grandchildren safe. Those are my sole priorities. To accomplish that, I need your help.
Amaimon tilts his head, confused by Yasu’s words. Why is he saying he only cares about two? “What about Yume?”
Yasu raises an eyebrow, surprised by the question. “Why do you care about my wife? If you really want to know, I despise humans. They ruin everything. I thought Yume was different.” He sighs deeply. "It’s a complicated story that I have no interest in discussing with you. Now then, show me your strength.” A wicked grin spreads across Yasu’s face.
It’s around two o’clock when you finally get a message, but it’s not from Amaimon.
Dad: I might’ve got a tad bit carried away. Sorry. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Along with the message is an attached location.
A sinking feeling churns in your gut; got carried away? Scenarios flash in your mind, each one depicting Amaimon in potential danger. You push back from your desk, stumbling over the chair as you rush toward the door. By the time you exit the dorm, you’ve already earned a couple of bruises on your legs as you sprint toward the location. Half of the route is along a sidewalk, and you navigate through the crowd, murmuring soft apologies. As you near the halfway point, your chest tightens and sweat drips down your forehead. It has been ages since you’ve exerted yourself this much. The challenge escalates when the sidewalk vanishes, forcing you onto rough ground. The location is towards a part of the forest.
“_____!” You’re nearly knocked off your feet as you're pulled into someone’s arms. “Mom?”
“Are you okay?” She holds your face in her hands, forcing you to stop. But when you do, the pain and fatigue rush in; you can’t slow down, or you won’t be able to move much after. “Get off me; I have to find them.” You push her away more forcefully than intended, but your priority is finding Amaimon. “I need to go.”
“Did your father message you?” She tries to keep her grip on you as you push against her. “Let me go!”
“It’s okay. He messaged me, too. Calm down. We will go together.” She pulls out her phone to show you the message he sent. But he said even less in the message: ‘Come here,’ with the location attached.
You shove her from you; you'll never get there if you slow down now. When you arrive at the location, your whole-body aches, and you almost fall to your knees, but then you see Amaimon lying on the ground. He’s clearly been fighting, his clothes torn and his chest heaving while he snarls at your father. Across from him, your father is standing, hand on his hip while rubbing the back of his neck, “Don’t look at me like that; I wasn’t expecting you to be this weak- Oh, ____, Yume.” He glances over his shoulder, watching you with curiosity.
“A-Amaimon?” Your stomach drops, seeing Amaimon on the ground like that.
“He truly is a monster,” Yume whispers in horror while pulling you against her in a comforting manner. Your eyes scan him, trying to assess the situation. His arms are now large and reptile-like, similar to hobgoblins' structures. His ears are extended, and from what you can see at this distance, his fangs are longer and seemingly sharper as he snarls at Yasu. Odd-shaped horns on the top of his head, with a similar design as the one on your throat, and then there’s his-
Yasu grins down at his son-in-law. “Haha, Yume’s right!” He bends at his waist, mocking the demon king. “Look at you.” Amaimon stares back at Yasu, his brow furrowed in annoyance. “Why are you looking at me like that? Is it because you weren’t ready for _____ to see the real you or something?” Honestly, Yasu hadn’t intended to push Amaimon this far; he was only trying to test his strength; how was he supposed to know Amaimon would show this side of him?
“Get off me!” you snap, shoving your mother aside as you rush to Amaimon. “Are you okay? What happened?” Without hesitating, you sink to your knees and climb into his lap, forcing him to meet your gaze by holding his face in your hands. Amaimon nods, “I’m fine.”
“What happened?” You put your hands on his chest as he struggles to catch his breath. When he stays silent, you move closer, pressing your forehead to his. “Dad texted me that he got carried away. What did he do to you? Why?” You are aware that Yasu is unscathed.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Aside from his heavy breathing and disheveled clothes, he appears uninjured. Still, you watch him closely for a few moments to ensure he’s okay. When his breath evens, he leans his forehead against yours. Once you’re sure he’s okay, you allow your eyes to scan his new appearance. “You have a tail!” You glance over his shoulder to the much different tail than you’re used to. Pulling him closer for a better look at the new appendage, Amaimon tenses for a moment but then relaxes in your embrace. “I’ve always had a tail.” “Not like this one! It’s like an uh alligator tail; can I touch it?” Amaimon wraps his arms around you, nuzzling affectionately against your throat. “No.”
“Wait, really? I can’t?”
His chuckles vibrate against your throat. “Don’t tease me.” You huff, slapping his chest, “So, your arms, tail, and ears change?” As you question him, you pull back slightly, gliding your hand along his arms and ears. “You have horns.” You comment as Amaimon sits back, allowing you to explore this body. Despite the appearance, his now thick muscular arms are smooth to the touch, similar to your hobgoblin’s. The muscles twitch under your touch. His hands have also drastically changed, and you eye the extremely long and sharp claws. “You better not cut me.” You casually comment while exploring him. His ears have drastically elongated, and you run your finger along it; it’s almost better than touching his other ears. Your attention goes to the top of his head. “This is the same design as the mark.” You whisper, tracing your fingers along his horns. “Did anything else change?”
Amaimon raises a brow. “Anything else?”
“Not like that, you pervert.” You snap, slapping his shoulder. “…but did it?”
“No.”
You grin, pressing your lips to his. “I want to touch your tail.”
“No.”
“Amaimon.”
He wraps you tightly in his arms, cautious of his claws as he does so. “No.”
“I want to touch it.” You squirm in his grip, attempting to reach the appendage from over his shoulder. “I’m not going to bake you anything.” You grumble, extending an arm over his shoulder as you threaten him.
“No.”
“Asshole, let me touch it.”
“No.” He squeezes tighter, keeping you against his chest.
“Please.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“…”
You pull back, and he smirks when you make eye contact. Narrowing your eyes, you attempt to crawl around him again; this time, he loosens his grip, allowing you to explore a part of him that’s new to you. It’s long and strong, and the texture is soft and smooth, reminding you of snakes you’ve held in the past at different functions. “It’s so big.” You comment in awe, now being able to examine it thoroughly. “I love it.” You coo as Amaimon relaxes, letting you explore him to your heart’s content. “What else has changed?” Your hands glide up from the base of his tail to his back, noticing that it seems more muscular than usual. You move back to his front, slipping into his lap again, running your hands along his chest. Definitely more muscular. Amaimon watches you with lidded eyes, “So, can you change back?” As you touch his body, you forget about your parents off to the side. “Do you want me to change back?” You shrug. “I mean, there’s no rush.”
Yume watches the scene in horror; how could you run into the arms of a monster? Does the mark of a mate cause you to be blinded to how he’s a monster? Didn’t Yasu force him to reveal his true body so you’d be horrified? “I-is it the mark that causes this?" she whispers, moving closer to Yasu. He looks at her from the corner of his eye. “No. A mark doesn’t create a magical attraction. Your kid is just strange and has bad taste.”
“My kid? If anything, her bad taste comes from you.” She snaps.
“Do you realize you just insulted yourself? Her bad taste comes from me, so what does that say about my interest in you?”
Yume grimaces, watching in disgust as you pull Amaimon into a kiss. “You’re right. Her bad taste in men comes from me. I thought you were trying to help her see his true self so she’d finally step away from him; I can’t watch this. I’m leaving.”
“Leaving?”
“I can’t just sit here and witness this, especially when he’s like that. It’s repulsive, and I don’t understand how she could be attracted to that. Just look at him—he’s a monster, and yet she rushes into his arms. I thought it was bad enough before, but now, seeing him look like that, she still leaps into his arms.”
“Your future grandchildren will come from that. Honestly, you’re starting to annoy me,” Yasu says, giving Yume a blank stare. “In five years, you’ll be complaining to me because ______ won’t allow you near her children. It’s time to get over yourself and realize that _____ is in love with Amaimon.” He then turns his gaze to you and Amaimon, observing with slight amusement as you awkwardly attempt to climb over Amaimon’s shoulder. “What was the point in this?” She motions to the scene before her.
“I wanted to test his strength, but when he took on this form, I was curious how she’d react. Guess she’s a lovesick teenager no matter his appearance.”
Yume shakes her head. “I don’t understand how she can be attracted to him like this.”
“It’s called love, Yume,” Yasu says with a dramatic sigh, lifting his hands and shrugging. “But perhaps it’s difficult for you to grasp because you’ve never been in love.” He comments dryly.
Yume whips her head away from you and Amaimon to face her husband. "What are you saying? That's not true; I love you. I chose to marry you and build a family with you because I love you."
Yasu raises a brow. “Oh? Really? Do you know why _____ and Amaimon are mates?”
“Because she stupidly fell for him?”
"To claim their mate, a deep mutual connection must be present. Humans cannot mark a demon or angel as their mate. However, demons and angels can mark humans if the human returns the same feelings." He grasps Yume’s jaw in his head, gently turning her head from side to side and inspecting her flawless skin. "We've been together for twenty years now,” He frowns at her unmarked skin. “Considering your skin is unmarked, you've never felt that level of connection with me. You’ve never loved me.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal before walking away.
Chapter 32: Chapter 32
Notes:
Thank you for the support <3
Chapter Text
Yume’s eyes widen as Yasu walks away. He’s wrong. She’s in love with him. Had he been trying to mark her for the last twenty years? Yasu has to be wrong about angels being able to mark humans. Her eyes land on you and Amaimon, lips locked.
She hesitates for a moment, feeling nervous about approaching Amaimon in this other form. With you often clinging to him, it’s easy to forget that he’s not just a demon but a powerful one. Seeing him like this is terrifying; she can’t understand why you seem unbothered. Fear grips her, but she knows she needs to speak with you and isn’t sure when another opportunity will arise. Taking a deep breath, she steps forward. Naturally, Amaimon notices first; he emits a low growl while his mouth is still against yours before pulling away. She watches as Amaimon tightens his grip on you. She swallows hard and says, "_____, I need to speak with you."
You wrap your arms around Amaimon’s shoulders as she addresses you, feeling utterly relaxed in his embrace. She realizes that she won’t get you alone anytime soon, and although this isn’t a conversation she wishes to have in front of Amaimon, she has no other choice. Pushing her fear down, she locks her green eyes on you, trying to ignore the demon. “It’s about your father, or rather, about angels.”
“Mom, I don’t know much about angels. I haven’t had the chance to sit down with Dad and have him explain everything.” She nods. “What do you know?”
“That I can be with Amaimon forever.”
“…is there anything else?”
“I still don’t know anything about angels,” you sigh. “Amaimon, what do you know about them?”
“I hate them.”
You grin at his response, running your fingers along his ears. “You hate angels; you hate humans…how ironic.” Amaimon hums in agreement, pressing his lips against the mark on your throat. “Did something happen?” you ask your mom, gently pushing Amaimon back. “You seem distressed. I take it this is more than just Amaimon’s repulsive, monstrous appearance.” You give her a look of disdain. “You know, you’re awful. You and Dad are both terrible, but in completely different ways.”
“I’m sorry ______; I thought Yasu was showing you this side of Amaimon so you’d open your eyes.”
“And see that I’m in love with a monster? That ‘apology’ is bullshit and doesn’t change anything. You’re apologizing for a misunderstanding Dad; you hoped I’d be terrified when I saw Amaimon like this.” She seems to shrink slightly as you gaze up into her emerald eyes. “What do you want, Mom? I thought you would’ve stormed off in disgust by now.”
Yume scans Amaimon’s form, feeling a flicker of disgust, yet the depth of your love for him perplexes her. Her mouth compresses into a thin line, and she wrestles with her own problem that keeps haunting her mind. She doesn’t want to burden you with her relationship issues. Children shouldn’t be aware of their parents’ troubles. But you’re an adult now, too. She feels torn about what it’s right to share with you. How much is appropriate to discuss? Then there’s your anger radiating off you in waves, making it even harder for her to find the right words. You’re hiding it well on the surface, but she can sense the fury within you.
As she takes a moment to gather her thoughts, you redirect your attention to Amaimon and softly press your lips against his in a tender kiss. Yume understands that this isn’t just a simple gesture of respect because of her presence. She knows your more reserved nature—aware you won’t deepen the kiss with her beside you. Instead, you choose gentle kisses on his lips and cheeks.
"Goodbye, Mom," you say, hoping to give yourself some privacy with Amaimon.
"I know I have no right to ask, but could you please find someone knowledgeable about angels? I'd appreciate someone who can offer insights beyond what’s in a basic textbook. And, of course, if I learn anything, I’ll be sure to share it with you.”
A bitter laugh escapes your lips. “You’re right. You have no right to ask that of me. Why are you asking me instead of Dad? He’s an angel; he must know more than anyone else.” You gently tap Amaimon’s arm, signaling for him to let you go so you can stand and step closer to your mother. When you’re nearly nose-to-nose, you confront her. “Tell me what happened, and I’ll decide whether or not I’ll help you.”
Disbelief washes over her face. “So, even if I tell you, there’s no guarantee you’ll help?”
“Yeah.”
Closing her eyes, Yume takes a deep breath. “_____, this is a personal matter between me and your father. Are you sure you’re okay if I bring you into it?”
You glance down at Amaimon, who’s still sitting with knees bent in the same position as when you were sitting against him, “As long as it’s not vulgar.”
“Your father is under the impression I don’t love him.”
That is far from what you expected to hear. Your brows furrow as you focus on the trees behind your mother, trying to process her words. Behind you, Amaimon shifts position. Your gaze remains distant when you suddenly feel arms wrapping around your shoulders from behind. Glancing down, you frown at the sight. Ordinary arms are around you—he's reverted to his usual form. “Oh. Uh, why?”
Yume’s gaze is fixed on Amaimon. “Can demons really mark a human even if that human cannot mark them back?” Amaimon shrugs, his indifference evident. "I don’t know, and I don’t care.” You grasp his arms. “Why does this matter to you?” Her eyes dart sideways before returning to yours. “Yasu made it sound like angels and demons are the same when it comes to marking their mates.” Her statement feels peculiar. “Okay, and?”
“Yasu claims he’s been trying to mark me for the last twenty years; he claims I don’t love him because his efforts have never worked.”
You tilt your head slightly to look at your mate. “Amaimon, is that true?”
“I don’t like repeating myself.” You roll your eyes and squeeze his forearms. “Well, that’s a bit awkward. Do you love Dad?”
“Of course.”
“Sure, I’ll help.” Relief washes over her face, but you quickly cut it short, raising a finger. “On one condition.” This takes her by surprise. “Condition?” She repeats, her brow furrowing. She assumed that you'd immediately agree once you learned of the situation. You nod and place your hand back on Amaimon’s arms. “It’s a simple one, but if you can’t do it, then I guess it’ll be goodbye to Dad and me. I’m done with this game, Mom; I’m an adult and tired of it. You need to accept Amaimon. Not bullshit me to my face claiming you accept; you have to prove it.”
“How do I prove it?”
Shaking your head, you let out a sigh. “I don’t know, Mom. But you need to figure it out. Your words feel empty. I'll ask Dad, but until you can accept Amaimon, I won't tell you anything."
Yume's heart sank at your ultimatum. A rush of emotions flooded her—defensiveness, frustration, and a twinge of guilt. After a moment of tense silence, she spoke, her voice laced with earnestness: "I... I will try, _____."
Slowly, you nod. “Just one more thing before I leave: I don’t need you anymore. I have more than enough in Amaimon. So, I won’t beg you to prove you accept Amaimon. I don’t care anymore whether you do or don’t, and I promise you, Amaimon couldn’t care less whether or not you accept him. However, if you want those answers, I suggest you do.”
Amaimon's hand slipped into yours as you turned away, a subtle gesture of reassurance. His touch was warm against your skin, grounding you amid the emotional turmoil.
Yume stood quietly, watching you leave with Amaimon, her heart weighed down by your words. She realized she had overstepped, allowing her fears and insecurities to cloud her judgment. The mere thought of losing you, her sole child, is a fear she can't bear to face.
As you walk out of sight of your mother, a groan of annoyance escapes your lips. “I shouldn’t have asked; I should have just told her I didn’t care and left before I got all that information.” The more you dwell on it, the more your irritation grows. Will she start bothering you and Amaimon just to prove that she accepts him now? You feel like an idiot. “I was angry, and I wasn’t thinking. I don’t care if she accepts you anymore, so why did I even bother?” Replaying the conversation in your mind only deepens your frustration. All you wanted was to sit with Amaimon and explore the new side of him that he had hinted at but never revealed until now. Why did she have to interrupt? Amaimon remains silent beside you, listening to your rants as you lead him through the streets.
As you walk through the familiar streets, your mind is still reeling from the tense encounter with your mother. The weight of her words and the emotional turmoil they stirred within you are like heavy chains dragging at your every step. Amaimon walks beside you, his presence a calming force amidst the storm of conflicting emotions swirling inside you.
“What do you want for dinner? Let’s get takeout. I’m not in the mood to cook, and I don’t want to be around others.” Amaimon gives a nonchalant shrug. “I don’t care.”
“Don’t care? I’ll go to that healthy restaurant and get some vegetables with flavorless meat then.”
“Go ahead, I won’t eat it.”
You narrow your eyes before sighing, “I don’t think I’m in the mood to even wait at a restaurant. Let’s just grab some junk food.”
Collapsing onto the sofa, you let out a long sigh and run a hand through your hair, staring blankly at the ceiling.
As you open a bag of chips and absentmindedly munch on them, your mind remains preoccupied with the recent confrontation with your mother. You turn to Amaimon and meet his calm gaze.
"I'm so sick of everyone," you muttered, frustration spilling from your words. "I can't stand this drama anymore. It's suffocating. All I wanted was to explore your body, and she interrupted me." You huff in annoyance, irritated that Amaimon had reverted back when you were only with him like that for a few minutes. It’s a new aspect of your mate that you yearn to explore. “Yes, and being in Assiah with my human vessel, it’s a lot of strain, so I can’t shift forms frequently."
“How long?”
“At least a week.”
“I hate her.”
You lean into Amaimon’s embrace, enjoying the comfort of his arms around you. “It’s better to wait anyway,” he says, stroking your thigh. “You can’t handle me like that yet.” His words are teasing, but there’s a hint of truth in them.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” you protest with a blush creeping up your cheeks.
Amaimon raises an eyebrow at you. “Right.”
“Okay, maybe a little like that,” you admit with a sigh. “But would you want to see more if my body changed?” You give him a playful nudge. “Imagine if it had been the other way around.”
Amaimon’s gaze darkens as his fingers trace patterns along your skin. “I wouldn’t let anyone get in my way of that.”
You slap his chest playfully. “Excuse me, sir, you are part of the problem here. You changed back in front of her.”
Amaimon nods in understanding. “Yes, I couldn’t walk into town looking like that, and your mother wasn’t exactly going to leave anytime soon.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead. “But don’t worry, we have all the time in the world to explore.”
You push him down to lie on the sofa while lying on top of him. Despite the chaos that may have surrounded you before, being with Amaimon always fills your mind and heart with peace and clarity. As your frustration dissipates, you sit up and shift onto his lap, gazing down at him. Amaimon blinks lazily up at you. "Yes?"
You absentmindedly begin to unbutton his vest, then peel off his shirt until his bare chest appears. “Want to watch a movie?” you ask, gliding your hands over his warm, solid chest. “Whatever you prefer.” Nodding, you grab the remote. "What type of movie are you in the mood for, Amaimon?” He shrugs, seemingly indifferent to the human films that pique your interest. After making your selection, you lean back against his bare chest once more.
“______?”
“Yes?”
“Why am I the only one shirtless?”
Your face burns at his question. “I like lying against your chest.”
Amaimon nods. “Wouldn’t it feel better if you were shirtless too?”
You bury your face into his chest, groaning. Amaimon gently pats your head. “Ah, there is my shy queen.”
You peek at him, “I’m not shy; it’s just that my back will be cold if I take my shirt off.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“There is a blanket right there.” He nods to the end of the sofa, where a blanket is bunched up.
You purse your lips and huff in amusement. “Shut up.”
With a swift motion, you toss aside your shirt and grab the blanket, wrapping it around your shoulders before settling back against Amaimon's chest. The gentle caress of his claws gliding up and down your spine, combined with his chest's rhythmic rise and fall, begins to lull you into sleep just as the movie is starting. “Amaimon, I’m tired.” He grabs the remote and switches off the TV before gently carrying you to bed. As soon as you're settled on the bed, he swiftly removes your bottoms and then his own. Sliding under the covers, he pulls you close against his warm chest. "Why are we naked?" you murmur, fighting off a yawn. "Because it's more comfortable. Go to sleep, my queen."
Nestled in Amaimon's embrace, you feel the warmth of his body against yours. Your eyes flutter closed as you listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a soothing melody that gently lulls you into drowsiness. Amaimon's claws continue their delicate caress along your back, tracing intricate patterns. As sleep begins to claim you, you softly murmur against his chest, "I love you, Amaimon.”
The next morning, a warm pressure stirs you from sleep, resting against your throat. “You always bite me," you huff, yet you tilt your head, giving him better access. Your fingers glide through his hair as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. With the confirmation you’re awake, his mouth travels from your throat to your lips. “Mmmm, I want others to see you’re mine. Also, you enjoy it.”
“Isn’t the mark enough?”
“Yes, for demons, but we live in Assiah,” he whispers softly against your lips. “Does it really matter? You enjoy it.” Unable to find a counterargument, you roll your eyes and gently tug on his hair. “We should get up.” You tug on his hair gently, hoping it will encourage him to rise. Instead, he lets out a low groan at the sensation, tilting his head back as you continue to pull on his hair.
“Amaimon, let’s go.”
“Why?”
“We can’t lay in bed all day.” His hand brushes against your hip as you speak, reminding you of your state of dress, or rather lack of dress. “You pervert.” You drop your arms, slightly slapping his chest. “What are you talking about? I haven’t done anything?” He questions in a curious tone. “Not yet.”
He shakes his head in denial. “No, you’re the pervert. It hadn’t crossed my mind.”
Staring him in the eye, you lift your thigh, brushing against something warm and hard. “No?”
He shakes his head, his voice dripping with mockery. "My queen, of all people, you should know that this isn’t my full size. You’re teasing me.”
“It’s too early for that."
“Then stop rubbing against me."
“...I’m not.”
He presses his forehead gently against yours. “I’m going to tie you to this bed.”
You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders once more. “Sorry, sorry.”
He shakes his head before pressing his lips against yours again, shifting his hands under your back to lift you up. “Where do you want to go?”
You shrug, pushing him away. “Let’s just get ready first, then I’ll decide. What time is it anyway?”
“Around noon, I don’t know why you were so exhausted; we didn’t even get to play last night. So, why were you so tired?”
Narrowing your eyes, you slap his shoulder at his word choice. “Mental exhaustion. Sorry, we didn’t get to play.” You slip out of the bed, heading towards the attached bathroom.
“I didn’t mean it like that; we have all the time in the world to be intimate. It’s just odd you’re exhausted when we didn’t do anything yesterday.”
You listen to his words as you brush your teeth; it’s a reminder that Amaimon can’t understand certain emotions on the same level as you, or at least can’t understand the reaction to specific emotions.
As you finish up in the bathroom and step back into the bedroom, you find Amaimon lounging on the bed, watching you intently. He tilts his head as you approach. "You know, you're beautiful even when you're just brushing your teeth," he says, his golden eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and affection. A slight blush creeps up your cheeks at the unexpected compliment, and you quickly move to pick out an outfit for the day.
You’ve just pulled your shirt over your head when you receive a text.
Yume is losing her mind. She’s begging me to help her find a way to prove she accepts Amaimon- after helping her find a way to accept him.
You can’t help the laugh that escapes your throat. She went to Katashi for help; she went to someone who hates Amaimon almost as much as she does for help.
Amaimon looks curious, so you pass the phone to him. “Amaimon, get dressed; we need to meet with either Dad or Katashi today.” Your eyes scan your still nude mate.
“Get dressed? You seem to be enjoying me like this.”
Chapter 33: Chapter 33
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Amaimon, get dressed; we need to meet with either Dad or Katashi today.” Your eyes scan your still nude mate.
“Get dressed? You seem to be enjoying me like this.”
Amaimon opens his arms, inviting you to crawl into his lap. “I might enjoy it, just a little," you reply, holding up your thumb and index finger to signify a small amount. You settle comfortably, positioning your legs on either side of him, gently running your fingers through his hair. “But I don’t want anyone else to enjoy my nude mate. So, get dressed.”
“So demanding.”
You tug his hair playfully. "Asking you to take care of the basics of getting dressed after we wake up is not so demanding.” You narrow your eyes. Amaimon smirks. “What do you want me to wear? My demanding queen.”
As you try to pull away from him, Amaimon tightens his grip around your waist, keeping you against him. "Amaimon. You’re supposed to be getting dressed, not holding me back.”
You feel a tingling sensation as his claws trace patterns on your back, a playful yet possessive gesture. His touch ignites a spark within you, awakening a blend of desire and frustration. "You enjoy testing my patience, don't you?" you sigh softly.
With a devilish grin, Amaimon finally releases his grip on you, allowing you to stand. He gazes at you appreciatively for a moment before rising and moving toward his closet.
“Hey, beautiful,” You tense hearing the familiar voice. Yasu grins as he approaches your table. “And beast,” he adds while shooting a glance at Amaimon as he pulls out a chair. “It’s always nice having lunch with you.” His eyes fall to your clenched fist. Confusion fills his eyes. “Is something wrong, sweetheart?”
“Dad, I want answers.”
"Geez, _____, you could at least say hello first," he says, staring at you expectantly. “Hello, Dad. I want answers," you reply. Yasu shakes his head. “Wait a moment, _____. Let’s order our food first, " he complains while waving a young waitress over. He gives the waitress his order and waits for you and Amaimon to do the same before questioning you. “What do you want answers about?”
“Angels.”
“Well, good luck with that.” He shrugs. “It’ll be hard to find anything about them.”
“Aren’t you an angel?”
He locks eyes with you. “Of course not.” You pause, caught off guard by his unexpected reply. You know he’s an angel. “Yes, you are.” Yasu raises an eyebrow. “Huh? Why would you think that?” He shakes his head. “You’re so ridiculous, _____; of course, I’m not an angel. Wouldn’t an angel have an issue with this?” He gestures between you and Amaimon.
Uncertain of how to respond, you glance at Amaimon, who appears indifferent to the situation. “Dad, why are you saying you aren’t an angel?” you whisper, disbelief evident in your voice. He had already told your mom he is an angel—that’s why she asked for your help yesterday. Leaning closer to Amaimon, you grasp his jaw, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Then why is there a mark on Amaimon’s throat? Mom mentioned that you told her humans can’t leave marks on angels or demons.”
“Did I?”
“Yes, you did," you insist, your voice a mixture of frustration and confusion. Amaimon gently pulls your hand away from his face and holds it in his own.
Yasu's expression remains unchanged, a mask of feigned innocence that fails to reach his eyes. "Perhaps you misunderstood, ______," he says smoothly, his tone light despite the weight of the conversation.
“You’re lying.”
Yasu shifts in his seat, a glimmer of something darker flashing in his eyes as he leans back in his chair and points at Amaimon. "Forget the faux drama between me and your mother. You should focus on your mate instead. Don’t concern yourself with what’s happening between me and Yume; it’s inappropriate. You’ll understand when you have kids of your own.” His carefree grin returns, "And I can’t wait to see it, even if he’s the dad,” he adds, pointing towards Amaimon. "You’re so beautiful that it doesn’t matter what their father looks like.”
A scowl crosses your face at the jab. “I think Amaimon looks amazing.”
“Of course you do.” He sounds like he’s humoring a five-year-old.
Amaimon's expression remains inscrutable as he gazes at Yasu, his golden eyes revealing no emotion. Despite Yasu's efforts to shift the conversation, you persist, determined to uncover answers. You know he is an angel, so why is he bullshitting you?
"Dad, stop evading the question," you demand. "Tell me the truth about who you are and why you've been hiding it from us."
He sighs, sounding frustrated. “I’m Yasu Aiko, just an ordinary person in this world. That’s all there is to tell regarding the grand scheme of things. Of course, I’m your father and Yume’s husband. That sums up my identity: a husband and a father.” Leaning forward, he gently places his hand over yours. “Sweetheart,” he begins, his grip tightening painfully. "You need to stop.” As Amaimon snarls, Yasu quickly releases your hand and raises his own in a gesture of mock surrender. “Sorry, sorry. I just don’t want you getting caught up in something that could become dangerous. It sounds like you might be searching for pointless answers to questions that don’t concern you. I’m not an angel, so don’t worry about it. Just focus on your life, your studies, the university you want to attend, Amaimon, future children—those are what truly matter, _____; trust me.”
It almost feels as if the waitress had been waiting for the conversation to finish, approaching just as Yasu's words leave his lips and placing food in front of everyone. “Actually, could I get this to go?” Yasu asks, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Dad, if you’re just an ordinary person, how do you know it’ll be hard to find anything about angels?”
He grins at you while packing his meal. “Well, I assume anyway; I haven’t exactly seen angels in the news or history books—except for those discussing fictional beliefs in history. See you.” He waves, casually walking out of the restaurant.
“I hate angels,” Amaimon comments while taking a fry from your plate. “Amaimon, you have the same thing on your plate as I do, yet you still take my fries?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted your fries.”
You roll your eyes and gaze at the empty seat across from you, replaying the conversation in your mind, searching for any details you might have overlooked. Wait. "Amaimon?”
“Yes?”
“Did my dad look younger to you?”
Amaimon shrugs and takes a bite of his burger. “Angels and demons occasionally take human lovers, but it doesn’t last long for obvious reasons.” He casually snatches another fry from your plate. “He'll probably move on soon, so he no longer needs to appear as a middle-aged man.”
“What do you mean ‘move on’?”
“You’re not stupid ______.”
It’s not something that would have ever crossed your mind. Your father has been attached to your family for as long as you can remember, devoted as a husband and father. Would he really just throw all of that away and move on? “No. He wouldn’t do that. He’s kept secrets, but he wouldn’t just move on from the family like that.”
“You should speak to Big Brother; he’ll know more about your father than me- what are you doing?” Amaimon gives you an unimpressed look as you stand and start gathering all your belongings. “I need to speak to Mephisto.”
“You need to eat.”
“Amaimon.”
“I’m not against holding you down and shoving food down your throat.” He warns you, and the uncertainty of whether he’s serious makes you sink back into your seat. “I want answers,” you complain, grabbing a fry. Amaimon shrugs and replies, “Well, I want my mate to eat.”
As you start eating your meal, Amaimon watches you closely, making sure you finish everything before he agrees to leave.
Amaimon suddenly shoves you into a random abandoned alley in search of a door. Pulling out Mephisto's magic key, he quickly inserts it into the nearest door and drags you into a room that turns out to be Mephisto’s office.
“Amaimon, Miss Aiko," Mephisto says, glancing through some documents. “I must say, I’m rather busy at the moment. Is this urgent, or can it wait?”
“A mix of both since you’re so busy. If you could just answer a couple of quick questions, I’d appreciate it, Sir Pheles.”
Mephisto lifts his head, focusing entirely on you. “Of course, Miss Aiko, I will answer to the best of my abilities. What would you like to inquire about?”
“The first one is obvious, but Dad denied it just now. Is he an angel?”
“Indeed. I’ve known Cassian for thousands of years.”
“Is my dad the type of person that would just move on? Leave behind my mom and me? I don’t know if you know the answer but…” You trail off.
“While angels are generally seen as holy beings, some, like Cassian, can display selfish tendencies. To answer your question: it's both yes and no. Yes, he would leave your mother without hesitation at this point. No, he will not move on from you.” Mephisto leans forward, resting his chin on his interlaced hands. “Cassian is quite complex. I believe he once loved Yume, and maybe he still does. But yes, he would leave her behind, and he might be getting ready to do just that.”
“Do you know if Dad has loved someone else before?”
Mephisto shrugs his shoulders. “From what I understand, your father has loved only one other person before meeting your mother. While I can't say it was a romantic love, it was deeper than most romantic loves."
“Who?
“Use your imagination. I’m a bit busy right now, but we can chat later.” Mephisto raises his hand and snaps his fingers, instantly transporting you and Amaimon back to your dorm room.
You drop to the floor with a loud thud, brushing off the slight pain in your hip as you focus on Amaimon, your eyes widening in disbelief. As you attempt to process the shocking revelations from Mephisto's office, a whirlwind of emotions swirls through your mind. “He was talking about Satan, wasn’t he?” The thought that your father might have been in love with Satan himself is nearly impossible to grasp. You turn to Amaimon, seeking some hint of clarity in his inscrutable expression.
"Amaimon, that can't be true...right?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as the weight of the revelation sinks in.
But he seems just as shocked as you. “My brother Lucifer is trying to bring Satan to Assiah.”
“_____?” Yume stares at you, wide-eyed, as you push past her into the apartment she’s rented. “What are you doing here?” It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since you gave her that ultimatum; she thought you might not even speak to her again until she accepted Amaimon. Yume glances at the demon sitting on her sofa, watching you pace across the living room. She’s far from ready to accept him. “Not that I mind you being here; I’m happy to see you. But is something wrong?”
You pause, realizing that you hadn’t thought through how to approach this. In fact, you hadn’t been thinking clearly at all when you rushed to her apartment. What are you going to say? You told her that you wouldn’t reveal anything until she accepts Amaimon, but you’re not cruel. She deserves to know, and you hope that someone would do the same for you in this situation. Yet, it could also be wrong. Mephisto mentioned he wouldn’t call it romantic love, but then what exactly was it? Apart from family, what type of love could run deeper than romantic love? “Mom, Dad is denying being an angel to me. But he didn’t deny it to you?”
“Yes, he mentioned that he couldn’t mark me, so it must mean I don’t love him. Only angels and demons have the ability to mark someone.”
“Mom, I don’t think you’re the problem,” you mutter, then look at Amaimon. “Amaimon, can you mark someone if you’re already in love with someone else?”
Amaimon shakes his head.
Yume’s eyes widen as the realization begins to sink in. “You think he’s in love with someone else?” Pain starts to fill her eyes, and you instantly regret having come here. “I don’t know! Maybe I’m wrong. I’m probably wrong. God, Mephisto said it wasn’t romantic love, so I shouldn’t have even said anything.” You growl to yourself, “Never mind, I’m wrong.” You drop onto the sofa beside Amaimon. “Dad isn’t into men.” That’s right. He’s never shown any interest in men; it’s not romantic. He couldn’t have loved Satan in a romantic way.
“You don’t know?” Amaimon asks, his confusion evident. It never occurred to him that this information could be unfamiliar to you. Isn’t it common knowledge among humans? He gazes at you, perplexed.
“Know what?”
“____, during that time, Cassian and Satan were genderless.”
“Huh?”
“Angels and demons are genderless until they obtain a vessel.”
“…You have no gender?” You blink in surprise as you stare at Amaimon. “Before I obtained a vessel, yes.”
You bite your lower lip. “So, if I’m in Gehenna with you, does that mean you won’t have this body?”
He stares at you a moment before answering. “Yes. When we go to Gehenna, I won’t have a vessel.”
“Oh.”
Amaimon gazes at you blankly. “What’s the matter?" His tone is devoid of emotion.
“Nothing.”
“Does it bother you I won’t have a vessel?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“You look bothered. Is my mate not interested in me without a vessel?”
“I didn’t say that…but how would it work?”
“The same, just no physical touch.”
“Oh.”
“You’re not bothered?”
“I’m not.”
“Good.”
Yume watches the two of you with a sense of awkwardness. Within minutes, the conversation shifts from intense and painful to painfully awkward.
“____.” Amaimon raises a brow at you.
“Huh?”
“You’re clearly bothered.”
“I’m not.”
“If you say so. Naughty mate.”
“I thought the other form was your true body.”
“It’s my form when I’m most powerful in this vessel.”
“Oh.”
Feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the awkward situation, Yume mumbles that she needs to grab something from the shop downstairs, leaving the two of you alone in the apartment.
Amaimon smirks. “You’re extremely bothered. I love you.”
“No, I’m not. It’s fine.”
“______.”
“Yes?”
He pulls you into his lap. “Without a vessel, I can’t touch you," he says, his hands gliding along your thighs. “I can’t taste you.” He kisses you deeply, and as you slightly part your lips, he runs his tongue along yours, savoring your taste. “You want me just as much as I want you. I wouldn’t be a good mate if I couldn’t bring you the pleasure you desire," he whispers softly against your lips.
“So, your vessel?”
“Isn’t going anywhere.”
You grip a handful of his hair tightly, yanking it back and forcing his head to tilt. "You asshole."
“I love you.”
You tug his hair. “I love you too, asshole.”
Notes:
I can't believe it's already December 1st, I swear November 1st was only a week ago.
Thank you for the support and comments. They mean a lot to me and help motivate me to keep writing. I appreciate all of you. <3
Chapter 34: Chapter 34
Summary:
This chapter is mainly smut, but the beginning should be read.
I was so excited to see Amaimon yesterday; he's so cute, and he was so happy in that episode. I love that demon. I am writing Christmas one-shots with Amaimon. If you have a suggestion, let me know, Christmas and maybe New Year's if you miss Christmas. A For request my tumblr fanfictionstuff is the best place to contact me, though i'll reply to comments here for request.
Thank you so much for the comments and support. I'm editing this story and rewriting almost all the chapters to flow better.
I really appreciate you guys and the comments mean so much to me <3 Also the kudos
Chapter Text
You disentangle yourself from Amaimon and gaze at the wall, trying to make sense of everything. “This is all so stupid, I shouldn’t have come here," you groan. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
Unsure, you shrug and leave the apartment, sending your mother a quick message to inform her know you are leaving. “My dorm? Your room? Where do you want to go?” you ask as you grasp his hand. Amaimon looks at you for a moment before pulling you closer. “And you said I’m insatiable,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against yours. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huff as he pulls away.
“Part of being a good mate is knowing when your mate needs you.” He counters, pulling you closer again. “Amaimon.”
“Yes?”
“Shut up, we’re going grocery shopping. I want to try to bake that strawberry lemonade cake.”
As Cassian walks through the words, he searches for a spot with a decent clearing. There’s no telling how the idiot will react, and it’s better to be safe than sorry, so he carefully checks for an area where fire can’t spread.
Once he locates the area, he drops some wood and various holy items to help keep the fire contained in one spot.
He watches carefully as the orange flames slowly change to blue.
“Cassian, it’s been too long.”
Cassian furrows his brow at the voice emanating from the blue flame before him. “Why do you sound insane?” The tone is different from the last time he heard his friend speak. He seems utterly unhinged, though given what Cassian has learned recently, perhaps it’s Satan has truly lost his mind.
A manic laugh emanates from the flames, causing Cassian to cringe. “I heard your beloved daughter has fallen in love with one of my sons.”
“Yes,” Cassian sighs, narrowing his eyes at the flickering flame. “Amaimon.”
The flames grow larger as the manic laughter starts anew. “I’m surprised you permit it; he is the weakest of the kings.”
Cassian glances at the flames with an unimpressed expression. “As long as he loves her, I couldn’t care less. I’m strong enough to protect my family."
Satan laughs once more. "Still, The Demon King of Earth. I am curious as to why you would willingly hand over your precious daughter to him of all people."
The air around Cassian grew colder at the mention of Amaimon, yet he kept his stoic composure intact. "Idiot, I didn’t hand her over to anyone. Anyway, I’ve heard you have two biological half-human children of your own. I’ve also heard you intend to use one of them as a vessel.”
“Yes! Rin Okumura, he’s almost-”
“I don’t want to hear details of how you plan to use your son merely as a vessel.” Cassian sighs; this was not the conversation he wants to have with his best friend. He had just wanted to know whether or not it is true; he can’t help but wonder if Satan would still seek to use them if he had been the one raising them. Cassian could never imagine harming _____ in such a way. Yet, he has his own vessel, and he knows it’s much easier for angels. “I wanted to confirm something with you,” Cassian says with a heavy sigh. “You’ll leave my family alone. Honestly, after hearing you speak just now, I felt the need to check; you sound absolutely insane.”
Satan’s voice slightly levels out to sound somewhat more normal. “Cassian, you’re my only friend. As long as you don’t stand with them, I won’t let any harm come to your daughter from my side.”
Cassian frowns at the flame. “My wife too.”
The flames slightly flare up once again. “Fine, fine.”
“My family is important to me," Cassian muttered under his breath, his voice barely rising above the crackling flames.
A stillness envelops the scene before soft laughter flickers back to life amidst the flames. “Oh, Cassian,” Satan drawls mockingly. “We shall see how long that lasts."
Cassian scoffs as he stands up and reaches for the jug he brought with him. “I love my family," he declares bluntly, pouring the holy water over the flames, cutting the connection with his old friend.
There are many things he had wanted to ask Satan, but Satan is clearly not all there at the moment, and he’s not interested in speaking to a crazy person. “I can’t imagine wanting to use my own child as a vessel. It’s disgusting.”
“Try this," you say, holding a spoon to his lips. The lemon curd is still warm; it will taste even better once it’s cold, but you’re curious to see if he’ll like it. He opens his mouth and looks thoughtful for a moment. “Well? Do you like it?”
He gives a sly smirk, a playful glint in his eyes as he leans closer, his breath warm against your skin. His lips meet yours softly at first, teasingly, before deepening the kiss. With gentle force, he slips his tongue into your mouth. The sharp, tangy flavor of lemon bursts into your mouth, enveloping your senses. “Do you like it?” He throws your question back at you while kissing your cheek.
“Idiot, I already knew I liked lemon. Do you like it? Maybe you should wait until it’s cold to get a better- Leave the mark alone!” You pinch his hips as he runs his tongue along the mark on your throat. “Can you go twenty-four hours without touching it?” you huff. “Do you want me to go twenty-four hours without touching it?” He gently nibbles at the mark as he questions you. You bite your tongue. “Hm, that’s what I thought.” He teases. Suddenly, Amaimon's lips are no longer on the mark but whispering into your ear. "There's something else I'm more eager to taste," he mumbles in a sultry voice.
You gently push against his chest while playfully admonishing him, "Don’t forget, we have cakes in the oven." The faint aroma of the cakes and lemon curd wafts through the kitchen.
"Hmm," Amaimon replies nonchalantly, effortlessly beginning to undo the button on your jeans without even glancing at it. His gleaming gold eyes remain fixed on yours—predatory yet playful—sending a shiver cascading down your spine.
His lips graze the sensitive area just below where the jaw meets the neck, while his cool fingers slip into your already loosened jeans, igniting an instant blush across your cheeks.
It all happens swiftly—too quickly for rational thought to catch up. Your back presses against the countertop as his fingers glide over your covered slit, eliciting soft gasps swallowed by lazy kisses. “Amaimon, not in the kitchen,” you grumble against his lips. Amaimon withdraws his hand from your pants and glances at the sofa behind you. “Take off your pants and lie back on the sofa; we have plenty of time.”
You shake your head at him and slip free from his loose grip, creating some distance between the two of you. "The cakes, we don’t have enough time." you remind him again with an exasperated sigh. Amaimon's smirk remains steady, becoming more pronounced as he leans casually against the kitchen counter, nonchalantly popping a piece of candy into his mouth. For most, that grin would send shivers down their spines, an unmistakable indication of his inhuman nature as a demon. Yet, here you are, drawn to him, unable to resist his charm.
"Let them burn," he drawls carelessly.
“No, I’ve worked hard on them.”
“_____, I want to eat you out.”
“Amaimon, don’t say it like that!”
“Well, my beloved mate, " he says sarcastically. “Remove your bottoms and lie on the sofa so you can receive what only I can give you.”
“Here," he mutters nonchalantly, tossing a pillow onto the plush sofa—its intentions clear. It's not so much an invitation or request but rather... a command wrapped in sweet expectancy. He pushes you back against the sofa and quickly crawls over you.
His hands wander back to your waist, maintaining eye contact as his fingers tease the edges of your denim. Slowly, they shimmy down the pants that hug your curves like a second skin. “Still acting shy?" Amaimon cajoles seductively while coaxing off stubborn material inch by inch until there’s nothing left but naked skin marred with ownership marks only visible to him. His tongue darts out, licking his lips in eager anticipation.
As you narrow your eyes, he raises a brow. “If my touch bothers you…" Amaimon offers in amusement, his tone clearly teasing, as he raises his hands.
"No," you rush to refute him, words tumbling out too quickly for clear articulation. "It doesn't bother me," you admit weakly under his unyielding gaze.
"I know it doesn't," he replies, sounding rather smug about how much power he holds over you with just a few light touches. He playfully nips at your lower lip before pulling away, leaving behind a lingering taste reminiscent of sweet candies.
He leans back to sit on his heels and spreads your legs. “Do you always have to stare?” you complain, attempting to close your legs, but he refuses, forcing you to keep them open. “You smell so good, my queen,” he groans, completely ignoring your complaints before lowering his head to run his tongue along your slit. “And taste even better.”
"Shut up," you groan, a mix of annoyance and pleasure in your tone as you weakly try to swat his head away. However, Amaimon merely chuckles darkly at your feeble attempt, his hands firmly holding your thighs apart as he continues his ministrations.
Your body betrays your protests as a moan of pleasure escapes your lips. A low hum resonates against your sensitive skin, causing another shiver to course through you — Amaimon laughs softly without halting his movements, his golden eyes sparkling with devilish amusement as they meet yours.
"Mmm," he purrs, the vibration sending a thrill through your body. "Delicious." His fingers trace delicate patterns on your inner thighs as his tongue ventures deeper. Each lick and each nibble sends tiny electric shocks through your body and puts your mind in disarray.
In the background, the oven timer dings, but you barely notice. Amaimon is a master of distraction, especially when his complete attention is on you like this. You squirm against plush cushions; a lustful moan slips past parted lips, luring him further into intoxicating heat until there's nothing left but blissful pleasure and Amaimon.
"Someone's enjoying this," he chuckles against heated skin. His fingers slip inside you with ease as his tongue swirls around your nub. The dual sensation pushes you to the edge faster than you thought possible.
Ignoring the rush of pleasure, you attempt to push Amaimon away, blindly pointing toward the oven. "The cakes could burn…" Your voice is breathy and uneven.
He gazes up at you, his golden eyes swirling with amusement. "Let them burn," he replies languidly before returning to his previous obsession – lost in savoring your sweet taste.
As Amaimon continues his tantalizing acts, you give up on reminding him about the cakes. Your fingers thread through his dark green hair, tugging him closer.
He continues his ministrations, letting your pleasure build, drawing out intense sensations before he curls his fingers and sucks gently on your clit, pushing you over the edge. It's an exhilarating experience that leaves you breathless and satisfied beneath him.
Amaimon straightens, his golden eyes glimmering with wicked delight. His green hair is tousled as a result of your earlier tugging. He flicks his tongue out lazily to moisten his lips, savoring your lingering essence. With a pleased smirk, he gazes at you, exuding an air of smug satisfaction.
You attempt to slow your breathing to a normal pace, but it's challenging with Amaimon's eyes fixed on you. He gently presses a kiss to your forehead.
You lie there for a moment before shooting up. “My cakes!” You quickly grab the underwear he tossed aside and rush to the oven. Thankfully, Amaimon didn’t keep you on the sofa for much longer after the timer went off. “I hope they aren’t dry," you mutter to yourself as you pull the cake from the oven. You added a water bath, so they should be fine, and the lemon curd should help mask any dryness. Amaimon follows behind you, watching closely as you pull the three cakes from the oven.
As the three cool on the rack, Amaimon steps behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. “I didn’t say we were finished. Don’t you want more?” he whispers in your ear, gently biting the mark on your throat.
“You’re so horny.”
“Yes, but you smell so good, I can’t help it.” He groans, slightly grinding against you while tugging at your underwear again. “My queen, let’s go to bed.”
"But," you start to object, attempting to put up a fight in the name of unfinished culinary tasks. You should probably make the icing. You know the mark has strengthened his insatiable appetite for you and his expectation that you’ll comply immediately. "
Amaimon must have detected the feeble resistance in your voice because he skillfully redirects your attention, his hands gliding upwards to cup your breasts and a low growl escaping his lips. “The cakes won't run away,” he murmurs into your ear.
“I have to make the icing.”
“You can do it tomorrow.” His hot mouth finds a sensitive spot behind your ear, his teeth nipping softly at your skin before his tongue soothes it. “Leave them. I want you.”
“You just had me.” You try to sound exasperated, but the truth is you are finding it extremely hard to resist his advances.
“Well...” Amaimon's voice lowered to a sultry whisper as he pressed even closer against you. “I’m not satisfied yet.”
"But-"
"Shhh," he whispers, his lips tracing your neck. His fingers delicately roll your nipple between them, causing you to gasp. "No more talking about those cakes, my queen."
He snakes one hand back around your waist, the other still occupied with the tender flesh of your breast. With a swift movement, he tugs your underwear down, letting it pool around your ankles before kicking it aside.
You let out a sharp gasp as his fingers come in contact with your still-sensitive folds, his thumb expertly finding your clit. His ministrations are slow but relentless, each gentle swipe of his thumb sending waves of pleasure through you.
"Off to bed," he murmurs against your skin, nipping at the lobe of your ear playfully as he picks you up. He doesn't give you any chance to protest or reciprocate his touches; he's finished playing games - now he's all about claiming.
With a soft thud, Amaimon deposits you on the bed before he crawls above you in one fluid motion. His golden eyes take in every inch of you lying under him; he looks absolutely mesmerized by the sight, making you blush under his intense gaze. He quickly removes the rest of your clothing.
“Are you ready for me?" His voice is a mere husky whisper, and it sends shivers down your spine.
“No.”
“No?” He pauses, looking confused, and pulls away. “Is something-” You cut him off by pushing him onto his back, your face burning as you stare down at the wide-eyed king. Before he has a chance to question your actions, your hands reach for the button on his pants. He huffs and unbuttons his shirt, allowing you to remove his pants. He’s bare a couple of minutes later, watching with slight amusement as you grasp him. “Ah, my queen is just as addicted to me.” He laughs, reaching out to place his hand on the back of your head. “Go ahead then.”
You make a playful pout before placing your lips onto him, the deep rumble of pleasure he emits sending sparks of anticipation through your body. You leisurely run your tongue along the rigid length, reveling in the way he writhes under your caress. His fingers entangle themselves in your hair, directing your actions.
His voice is a guttural groan, urging for more as he pushes his hips upwards in search of that scorching warmth. He directs your head lower, and before long, you're taking him all in. With a soft pop, you pull back only to descend again, keeping your gaze locked with his. His usually golden eyes are now wide and dark, brimming with intense desire that sends shivers down your spine. It excites you.
"_____, you’re perfect." Amaimon breathes out heavily, the praise making your heart flutter. Your pace quickens as you feel him hardening further in your mouth. The salty taste and musky scent intoxicate you, making your mind go fuzzy with desire.
"That's enough," he grunts, finally pulling you off of him with a bit more force than necessary. In an instant, he flips both of you over, so now he's on top, and you're underneath him. "Why?" you whine in disappointment; it's embarrassing to admit, but his taste is addicting, and you want him to release down your throat once more. However, you can't bring yourself to say those words.
“Because I want to cum inside you.”
“Technically-” You’re cut off as he slips himself inside you, letting out a low groan as he does. Your nails dig into his back at the sensation.
"Feels good?" His voice is strained, husky with his own pleasure. He bends to nuzzle the curve of your neck as he fills you, each inch driving a gasp from your lips. He bites the mark, and your hips jerk at the sensation. You wonder for a moment if the mark will always be this sensitive during sex or if it is just for a short time.
Always..." The word feels strained against the onslaught of sensations. You cradle his face in one hand and draw him in for a hungry kiss, delighting at how eagerly he returns it—how hungrily those sharp canines nibble on your lower lip.
Amaimon's pace picks up slightly as he draws back from the kiss and starts pushing into you again, deeper this time. Every thrust shakes through both of you like an electric current coursing through every nerve ending until white hot spots dance around your vision, threatening to pull all coherent thoughts away.
He gasps and goes rigid for a moment before relaxing into it, his rhythm changing to long, languid strokes that make him nearly pull out entirely on each withdrawal.
"You like...this?" His words are choppy between thrusting movements, anything beyond the ecstasy strangling rational thought left unuttered. The bed creaks under the strain of Amaimon's relentless motion.
You nod furiously despite not knowing whether or not you understood what he said- all too focused on how deliciously good he feels inside—how every stroke sends searing waves of pleasure through your body, arching against his, seeking more than just skin-on-skin contact.
"Look at me," Amaimon commands hoarsely, breaking away from kissing along the side of your neck covered in fresh bite marks overlaid upon older faded ones. “I love you.” He whispers, leaning down to sweetly press his lips against yours.
Suddenly, Amaimon switches tactics at just the right angle. You groan loudly, clutching onto him desperately, suddenly realizing why he adjusted his approach. Each thrust is torturously measured, now hitting deeper than before, making tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the sheer intensity.
He hooks one leg around his waist, giving himself better access while the other hand rests on damp sheets. His tail wraps around the leg on his waist. "I love--" Your words are swallowed by his lips as they crash onto yours again, desperate and needing. The kiss is hot and fervent.
He pulls back slightly to align himself better at your entrance before he slams back into you, making stars explode behind closed eyelids from overwhelming pleasure enveloping every inch inside-out.
The sensation spurs him on—his pace quickening as your climaxes approaches for both of you until you finally release each throbbing nerve end. He reaches his climax a few moments later, his warm seed filling you. You groan at the feeling.
He collapses atop you then – sticky skin clinging against each other. You reach up to run your hand through his hair. “I love you too.” He hums, showing he heard you, lifting his head to kiss you. “You’re perfect for me.” He whispers against your lips. “It only took thousands of years for me to find you.” You grin. “It only took me eighteen years.”
Amaimon nods, “You made me wait a ridiculously long time.”
"Better late than never," you whisper back with a smile, your hand tracing the familiar lines of his cheek.
He merely grunts in response before nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath fanning over your skin and making you shiver. His arms wrap around you, pulling you even closer against his body if that was even possible. “You should take a bath.” He comments, pinching your hip.
“Do I smell bad?”
“No, you smell amazing,” he murmurs against your skin, the vibrations sending tingling sensations coursing through your veins. His long fingers trace lazy circles on your back. “Too amazing, come on, I’ll get in the bath with you.” You tug on his tail. “You want to bathe in my dorm building?”
He sits up and reaches for his pants at the foot of the bed; digging in the pockets, he pulls out a key. “No, let’s go back to my room.”
Chapter 35: Chapter 35
Summary:
Normally I hate a lot of OCs, but i've added another. This is obviously an AU. Hopefully it doesn't turn you away. However, if it does. My Amaimon and the exorcist fic and Amaimon fic with the student is an option. (Love at first sight)
Chapter Text
As you exhale slowly, your footsteps guide you deeper into the shadows of the town. An inexplicable pull draws you forward; although you can’t quite identify it, you instinctively sense that this is where you will find your father. The streetlights flicker as the spaces between them stretch out, until darkness envelops you, leaving no illumination to direct your path. Perhaps bringing Amaimon along would have been wise after all.
After a few more minutes, you reach your destination and find yourself staring at the person in front of you. His back is turned to you. He is casually dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans. With hands at his sides, he tilts his neck back, gazing up at the stars dotting the night sky.
You swallow hard before finally confronting him. “Do you want to tell me the truth now?”
Yasu glances back at you, his gaze lingering for a moment before he shifts his attention back to the stars. “Do I want to?” he muses, pondering the question. “Not really.” Then he fully turns to face you, curiosity evident in his eyes.
“Where’s your mate?”
“I wanted to speak to you alone,” you reply, keeping your tone steady and calm.
“Oh? I’m surprised he let you come here,” he responds, a hint of surprise in his voice.
“Tell me about you and Mom. How did you two meet?” you ask, eager to uncover the past.
Yasu takes a deep breath, his eyes reflecting a blend of nostalgia and amusement. “Well, much of what you heard is true, except for the part about my memory. I met her while wandering aimlessly, and she insisted that I come home with her. Honestly, it was frustrating. Normally, when I told humans that I didn’t remember anything, they would just leave me alone. But she… she wouldn’t let it go.”
“Did you love Mom?”
“Of course, I still do.”
“She loves you; you know.”
“I know.”
“But-“
“_____, I really don’t want to discuss this with you.”
“You need to talk about it with Mom.”
“I do, but I also don’t want to have that conversation with her.”
“Okay, selfish jerk, why am I here? Typically, half-angel children get murdered. Why would you have children like this?”
He turns to face you. “….sweetheart, you weren’t exactly planned.” Your eyes widen in surprise, and he raises his hands defensively. “That’s not to say I was disappointed! I was genuinely happy; we were both happy. It may have been a selfish feeling, but I was honestly excited. And look at you now! Alive, and you seem so content with Amaimon. It’s honestly a bit strange to see him so in love when he looks at you. I never expected that from a demon king.”
“Dad, you’re rambling.” You cut him off.
“Right, sorry.”
“So, you love Mom, and you know she loves you, yet you’re allowing her to believe otherwise?”
“I’m not talking about this with you.”
“Tell me the truth. Can’t you see how this is tearing her apart?” Your frustration bubbled over.
He sighed, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air between you. “It’s not that simple. Things are… complicated.”
“Complicated? Or are you just being selfish?” You pressed, unable to contain your anger.
“Not having this conversation with you.”
“Tell me with truth, you piece of shit.”
His jaw drops as he stares at you, disbelief etched across his face. You’ve always been the level-headed one, and while he anticipated your anger, an insult like that took him completely by surprise. “______.”
“You’re even more toxic than Mom. The whole situation with the exorcists and family obsessed with exorcising Amaimon was frustrating, and I never thought things could become any more twisted. But now, discovering I’m half angel is even more complicated than my issues with Mom.”
“_____ , why are you upset? This is actually beneficial for you. You’ll be with Amaimon forever. It’s crazy how fate has united you two, especially since it seems like a slap in the face to me and your mother.”
“Dad, I know nothing about angels. You need to explain it to me.”
“The only thing you need to understand is that you’ll be with your mate for eternity. The other details aren’t important.”
“What about a different form? Demons have different forms, right? For instance, Rin undergoes slight changes and Amaimon changes forms. Do I have another form too?”
Yasu blinks in surprise. “I don’t know; I’ve never thought about it. Huh, I wonder if you do…”
Wow, he’s truly an idiot. You furrow your brow at your father, curiosity piqued. “Alright, do you have a different form?”
“Of course.”
“Can you show me?” your eyes widen.
“Nope.”
You frown, your brow furrowing in concern, and ask, “Is it because you can’t or because you won’t?” A flicker of hope ignites within you that you might be mistaken, clinging to the belief that perhaps he truly can’t; maybe he has a vessel or something that keeps him from unveiling his true self.
Yasu watches you in silence, a heavy tension hanging in the air as he easily reads the thoughts swirling in your mind. It would be simple for him to weave a web of deceit, feeding you false answers to your probing questions. However, your mate complicates his predicament; you would return to Amaimon with those answers, and he would effortlessly unravel the web, exposing the lies. “It’s because I won’t ______. I don’t want to show you my true self. If it were up to me, you’d still be at our house, blissfully unaware of everything.”
"I deserve the truth, Dad. I really need you to be honest with me, please.”
Yasu lets out a soft sigh and steps closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. “Sweetheart, it's time to return to your mate.”
You recoil at his dismissal, sharply drawing back with a frown. "Is that really it? You're just sending me away?"
"Yes," Yasu replies with a shrug. "I’m not telling you anything."
"You're such a bastard," you mutter under your breath.
Unbothered, Yasu merely shrugs. "I've been called worse."
You feel a surge of anger at his stubbornness. Instead of directing that frustration towards the father-daughter dispute, your thoughts wander to Amaimon. He has never concealed anything from you; he likely would have revealed from the very beginning that he was a demon if he hadn’t had to portray himself as Ambrosius. He chose to be honest with you, sharing the truth as soon as he learns it. Amaimon is truly perfect.
As if on cue, you feel a vibration in your pocket and glance down at your phone, lighting up with a message from Amaimon.
Where are you? I have candy.
Accompanying the text is a photo of various candies scattered across his bed. Despite the situation, a chuckle escapes your lips. As always, he craves that sweet sustenance that lingers on his tongue every time he kisses you. Amaimon is not as complicated as your father; he unapologetically stays true to himself at all times.
You look up at your father across from you. "I want to understand," you insist softly. "Why are you so afraid to reveal yourself? Will I be scared if I see it?"
"No," he replies, shaking his head. "You won’t be scared; I just don’t want to tell you."
“You owe me answers," you press, determination in your voice.
“I really don’t. Just go back to your mate.”
A flicker of irritation crosses your face. "I'm here, demanding answers from you, yet you only care about sending me back to Amaimon?"
“Well, would you prefer that I tell you to go back to your mother instead? Or maybe one of your friends?”
“I’m not leaving until I get answers.”
Your father nods. “Fair enough. Then I’ll be the one to leave.”
"Wait!" you shout, your fingers grasping at the empty air as Yasu disappears. Alone once more, his words echo through your mind relentlessly, the unanswered questions hanging heavy between you.
"You done?"
The voice catches you off-guard, making you jump, your heart racing in your chest. Amaimon peeks out from behind a moss-covered statue nearby, a piece of candy dangling from his lips.
"Amaimon!" you exclaim, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes at the sight of him. How does he always appear right when you need him most?
"Are you crying?" As he questions you, he walks closer to you.
"No..." You scrub at your eyes with the back of your hand.
"It doesn’t look like it," he replies, taking a bite of the lollipop before casually tossing the stick aside. He falls silent for a moment, then opens his arms wide to wrap them around your shoulders, drawing you comfortably against his chest.
“I thought you were in your room waiting for me.”
“You took too long to respond.”
You wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your face into his chest. “I love you so much. You better be a better husband and father than my dad." He tightens his hold around you.
The next day, you struggle to rise from bed as Amaimon lounges casually, already in his uniform. He regards you with a mix of amusement and curiosity while you hurriedly gather your own uniform pieces from around the room. “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?” you exclaim, almost stumbling as you hastily dress.
“Sorry.”
With no time for breakfast, you rush out, Amaimon following closely behind. You swing open his bedroom door, stepping into a quieter corridor of the school—you hope no one notices you two slipping out from his room. “I’m going to get kicked out for missing so many classes and being late!" you exclaim, glancing at the clock as you quicken your pace. But Amaimon holds onto your hand firmly, clearly enjoying the moment. He’s in no hurry to let go and continues to stroll leisurely, unbothered by your anxiety.
“Stop.” His tone is firm as he halts and pulls you closer to him. “Who are you?”
You turn your head to see who Amaimon is addressing, a young man who seems to be a few years older than you. His silver eyes bore into you. “______, I’ve been searching for you. I began to think you might not be real.” He lets out a bitter chuckle. “That selfish bastard.” He steps closer, his gaze scanning you. His style is unusual—a flowy white long-sleeve shirt and sandy colored pants, topped with a black cap covering his light brown hair.
“Don’t ignore me.” Amaimon growls.
The odd man gives an unimpressed look. “I don’t care to speak to demons.”
“I’ll kill you.”
“I’m not interested in a fight either, Earth King. Demon blood is repulsive; I don’t want it on me.” The man shrugs casually. “I see you’ve tainted _____. Very well." His silver eyes fixate on you. “We’ll talk later, preferably without the disgusting creature by your side.” After shooting Amaimon a look of disgust he turns his back to you and walks away.
As he disappears from view, you turn to Amaimon. “Who was that?” He shakes his head in response. “I don’t know who he is, but he’s an angel.” Your eyes widen in surprise. “An angel? Does that mean he’ll try to kill me?” Again, he shakes his head. “No. He doesn’t want you dead.”
“I thought angels were supposed to kill half-angels on sight. Why wouldn’t he want to kill me?” Confusion washes over you, from the little you know of angels, he should’ve tried to kill you. “Is it because I’m your mate?” Again, Amaimon shakes his head. “Then why? Amaimon?”
“Let’s go.”
He turns away from the school to find the closest door. “Go where? Amaimon, we have class.”
“This is more important. Let’s go.”
Amaimon leads you to an unfamiliar place filled with multiple bookcases lined with files and books, resembling someone’s office. Frustration etched on his face, Amaimon glances around the room, unsure where to begin. He approaches the first shelf, pulls down a book, flips through its pages, and then tosses it to the ground before grabbing another one. “I’ll help, what are you looking for?”
“Anything about angels.” he tosses another book to the floor. You nod and walk over to a bookshelf on the opposite side of the room. The books look extremely old, and there are scrolls scattered throughout the space. When you open the first book, you quickly realize that you might not be of much help. “Amaimon, I can’t read these.” You can’t even decipher the language they’re written in.
The demon king pauses, “There should be something you can read here. Find those.”
“Amaimon, do you really not know who he was?”
“I don’t know his name, but the two of you are related.”
You drop the file you were flipping through. “W-what? Related?” Your eyes widen in disbelief. “How?”
“I don’t know, but you have similar scents.”
“Maybe it’s just because he’s an angel and it’s an angel thing, not a relative thing?” You try to come up with an excuse. If Amaimon is right, then that’s another family member you didn’t know about, and he would be from your father’s side.
He steps closer to you. "_____ , both of your parents are liars. Your mother deceived you about her family, kept it hidden from you, and gave you up as a sacrifice. If that story were true, I would have killed you. Your father lied about who he is and what he is.”
Weeks pass without answers, and still, you find yourself no closer to uncovering the stranger’s identity. He hasn’t shown up again, and you hesitate to ask your father about it.
“Maybe we should just wait until he shows up again. I don’t like that you’re wasting so much time flipping through all these old books and files.” You frown as Amaimon unrolls another scroll. After a few days, Mephisto discovered Amaimon in the office and freaked out at the huge mess he had made, so now he’s more careful as he goes through everything. “It’s not wasting time.” Time is something he has plenty of. “I think I’m gonna head to the coffee shop down the street, I’ll get you some cake.”
An older man welcomes you as you step into the coffee shop. “Hello, Miss ______. What can I get you today?”
You smile as you quickly place your order while surveying the cakes; he has a few new ones, and you debate which to get for Amaimon. “You know, I’ve been waiting for a couple of weeks to catch you alone. I guess that demon keeps you on a short leash.” Your eyes widen as you glance over your shoulder. The peculiar man from two weeks ago raises his hand in greeting. “Let’s chat," he says, nodding towards a table in the corner.
When you don’t agree right away, the man frowns. “Really? Scared your boyfriend might find out? We’re in a public place.” He then sighs. “We need to talk. Alone.”
“Why?”
“Don’t you want to know more about what you are?”
You find yourself sitting across from a man, coffee in hand and cakes in to-go boxes to your left. “Are we related?” you ask, eyeing the peculiar man, who is wearing a similar style to what he had a couple of weeks ago, though his shades of brown are slightly darker. He raises an eyebrow and replies, “Sorry?”
“Amaimon said he noticed some... similarities. It’s a yes or no answer."
“What if the answer is, 'I don’t know'?"
“Alright, I’m leaving.” You rise, but the stranger grips your wrist. “We’re not related, but as your boy toy probably noticed, I’m an angel. Sit down.” You look at the door and then back at the stranger. “What’s your name?”
“Sit back down, and I’ll tell you.”
Amaimon will be worried if you don’t come back soon; you weren’t supposed to be gone this long, but he knows where you are. “Fine.” You frown and sit down across from him. “What’s your name?”
“Tullus.”
“Where are you from?”
He shrugs and says, “I thought you were interested in learning about being an angel, yet you keep asking so many questions about me. Just be careful; your boy toy might get a little jealous.” Tullus glances towards the door. “I’ll give him this: the creep is fast.” Moments later, Amaimon steps through the door, his eyes locking onto you and then the brunette sitting across from you.
“______. Let’s go.”
“But he-“
“Now.”
Chapter 36: Chapter 36
Summary:
The sensitivity of the marks is really bothering both of you.
Chapter Text
"Amaimon, wait. He’s an angel; he can—"
The demon king pauses and turns to face you. “He can what?”
You pull your wrist away from Amaimon’s grasp. “He can answer my questions.” Amaimon’s gaze shifts between you and the angel, who looks utterly repulsed. “You smell terrible,” Tullus complains, lifting a sleeve to cover his nose. “I hate demons.”
Amaimon brushes off the insult and moves closer to you, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Has he told you what he really is?”
“An angel.”
“_____, he’s a Nephilim, like you.”
Tullus scoffs but doesn’t argue, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance.
Another liar. You frown. Why are you surrounded by liars? Amaimon addresses the half-angel. “Are you related to _____?”
“No.”
You freeze. Is he another relative? Does that mean your father has siblings he didn’t tell you about, and this is a cousin? Or maybe an uncle? “Don’t lie. I’m tired of everyone lying to me.” You frown. “Are you my dad’s nephew or something?”
Annoyance flashes in Tullus’ eyes as he listens to you question him. "No," he spits with distaste, and you cannot understand why he seems so upset about it. “If you’re not his nephew, then tell me what you really are to him?”
“I told you I want to speak to you alone. I’m not saying anything with that disgusting creature here.” He stands up, grabbing his cup of coffee. “It’s bad enough having to smell his scent on you. But with him here, it’s revolting. I’m leaving. We can talk later.”
You watch as Tullus strides away, the scent of his coffee lingering in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma that always envelops Amaimon. Slowly, you lean closer to Amaimon, taking in his scent more. What exactly is Tullus smelling? Amaimon always has an earth scent.
Amaimon's fingers lightly caress your wrist as he murmurs, "Don't trust him. " His golden eyes are fixed intently on yours. "Angels always have hidden agendas."
You lean into his touch, seeking the comfort of his familiar presence. "It’s strange. Aren’t demons supposed to be the ones with hidden agendas and deceitful tendencies? I never imagined an angel would be like that.”
Amaimon gives you a blank look. "Demons and angels are similar. Though angels don’t like to admit it.” He takes your coffee and the cakes from your hands and leads you out of the café.
“Amaimon, Tullus doesn’t want to be around you.” Amaimon hums in agreement as he walks toward a park, not feeling like going back to his room or your dorm. He slows his pace slightly so you can walk beside him.
“So, maybe I should have another human go with me to meet him?”
The king doesn’t respond immediately; his gaze is fixed on the park. You notice his jaw tightening and Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, betraying his irritation. “Amaimon?”
He shakes his head and continues, this time a bit faster as he grits his teeth at the thought of you meeting up with Tullus without him. He is your mate; you shouldn’t want to meet another man without him there. The mark on his throat burns as these thoughts rush through his mind. He hisses at the sensation, nearly dropping the bag with cakes as he lifts his hand, pressing the heel of his palm into the mark.
“Are you okay?” You reach forward to take the bags from him as he winces in pain. “Amaimon, what’s wrong?” He releases the bags for you to take and growls in frustration. “You can’t see him without me.”
“But he’s not going to give me answers.” You frown at Amaimon as he stares ahead, his palm still pressed against the mark. “Yes, he will.”
You give Amaimon a puzzled look. “What do you mean he will?” Amaimon continues through the park, his gaze fixed on an empty bench as he casually responds to your question. “Tullus wants to speak with you; he’s been searching for you for a while now. He hates demons, but his desire to speak with you will outweigh his issues with me.” Amaimon takes the bag from your hand and heads toward the bench he spotted.
You follow Amaimon to the bench, your mind swirling with his words. As you settle beside him, the old wood creaks under your weight. "What makes you think he’s been searching for me for a while?" you ask, sipping your latte. The warm drink glides down your throat, enveloping you in warmth as you await his response.
He turns to you, his golden eyes shining in the dim light. "He said he thought you weren’t real, so he’s been looking for you for a while, right?” He answers, unwrapping a cake and taking a bite.
You watch as he licks a stray crumb from his lip, momentarily distracted by the sight. “Why do you think he’s been looking for me?”
“You should ask Yasu,” Amaimon says, lifting a piece of cake to your lips. “Dad isn’t giving me any answers,” you remind the king as he pushes the fork into your mouth. His gaze locks onto the icing on your lips, and he leans in to lick it off. Pulling back to observe your blush, he leans in again, turning it into a kiss.
The kiss deepens, and you find yourself melting into Amaimon's embrace. His fingers weave through your hair, the sweetness of the cake lingering on his tongue as it mingles with his distinctly earthy flavor. He knocks the cake to the ground and pulls you into his lap, his strong arms encircling your waist. The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in this secluded corner of the park. His lips trail down your neck, sending shivers through your body, while the mark on your throat pulses with a delicious heat, responding eagerly to his touch.
"Amaimon," you breathe, your fingers curling into his jacket. "We're in public."
He hums against your skin, the vibration making you shudder. "No one's around," he murmurs, his breath hot on your ear. "And even if they were, I don't care."
Amaimon's claws trail lightly down your spine, sending shivers through your body. He breaks the kiss, his golden eyes gleaming with possessive hunger as he gazes up at you. "Mine," he growls softly, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His sharp teeth graze your skin, not quite breaking the surface as he focuses on the mark.
You groan and grab a handful of his hair, pulling him away from the mark and forcing him to meet your gaze. “You knocked over the cakes," you complain. His eyes flicker to the ground where the cakes have fallen, yet he doesn’t pull away from your grip. He remains relaxed as you tug gently on his hair. “Should we eat dinner early?” you ask him.
Amaimon's golden eyes flicker with amusement as he gazes up at you, unfazed by your grip on his hair. "Dinner?" he asks. "I thought I was already having dinner."
His hands slide down to your hips, fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp. The cool evening air prickles against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Amaimon's body.
"We should go somewhere more private," you murmur, even as you lean into his touch. The mark on your neck throbs in time with your quickening pulse. You pull away slightly from Amaimon to rub at the mark. Why does it feel more sensitive?
Amaimon stares blankly at you. "Why? Are you afraid someone might see?" He grabs you and pulls you closer to him again. His tongue darts out to trace the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Let them look. Let them see who you belong to."
You're about to protest when a twig snaps nearby, startling both of you. Amaimon's arms tighten around you protectively as he whips his head toward the sound.
Your heart races as you scan the park, searching for the source of the noise. Amaimon's grip on you tightens. “I thought you said let them look?” You huff, slapping his shoulder. Amaimon pinches your hip in response but doesn’t take his eyes away from the path.
Then, a figure appears past a curve on the pathway. The fading sunlight catches on his light brown hair and silver eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. You don't expect to see him again so soon. His face is a mask of disgust as he takes in the scene before him.
"I see the demon can't keep his hands off you, even in public," Tullus sneers, his melodic voice laced with disdain. "How... typical."
Amaimon growls deeply, the sound resonating through your body. You feel the tautness in his muscles, akin to a predator poised to strike. "What do you want, half-breed?" he snarls.
Tullus' eyes narrow at the insult, but he keeps his composure. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I told you; they’re all liars.” Amaimon gives you a pointed look before nuzzling against the mark on your throat.
You shiver as Amaimon's breath ghosts over your sensitive skin, “Half-breed?” You whisper to Amaimon, who shrugs in response. “He denied it because he’s a liar.” Amaimon bites the mark.
Tullus' silver eyes flash with barely hidden anger as he observes Amaimon's possessive display.
"Tullus," you manage to say, your voice slightly breathless, you grip Amaimon’s hair once again and pull the demon from your throat. "Why are you here?"
His silver eyes flick to you, frustration and disgust swirling in them. "You should get rid of your pet so the two of us can talk. Alone.”
Amaimon's grip on you tightens possessively. "No," he growls, but doesn’t bother with the insult of being called a pet.
“Why can’t you talk to me with Amaimon here?”
“I hate demons; I don’t want to be near one,” Tullus replies honestly, and you notice he’s a good distance from you and Amaimon. Or rather, just Amaimon. “Plus, it’s none of his business. It’s between the two of us.” He motions between you.
You stare at Tullus for a moment, then glance at Amaimon and back again. “I’m not going to keep important information from him.”
Tullus raises an eyebrow and smirks. “We’ll see. Obviously, I’m not here to talk with you right now; I have something else to do. I’ll look for you later when the leech isn’t attached.” With a shrug, Tullus continues on his way.
You observe Tullus' retreating figure, his words lingering heavily in the air. Amaimon's arms remain firmly wrapped around you, his breath warm against your neck. "He's not going to give up," you whisper, more to yourself than to Amaimon. The demon king's grip tightens slightly in response to your words.
"He’s not going to get to you," Amaimon growls, his voice low and possessive. His sharp claws trace idle patterns on your skin. "You're mine."
You turn in his lap to face him, gently cupping his face in your hands. His golden eyes gleam in the fading light, reflecting a blend of hunger and determination. "I know," you whisper, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips. "But I need answers, Amaimon. There's so much I still don't understand."
Amaimon's expression softens slightly, though his eyes remain intense. "I will help you find the answers," he says, his hands settling on your hips. “Angels can be even more dangerous than angels because stupid humans trust them blindly."
You bite your lip, reflecting on his words. The mark on your neck pulses gently. “Amaimon, the mark—”
“I know. It’s sensitive for me, too.” He admits.
Sighing, you nod. “Let’s clean up the mess; we can have barbecue for dinner.” You slide off Amaimon’s lap and glance down at the pieces of cake. Amaimon follows your instructions without hesitation, bending down to pick up the cakes and toss them into the bag to hold them until you find a trash can.
"Barbecue sounds good," Amaimon murmurs, his fingers intertwining with yours as you begin to walk. The warmth of his hand is a striking contrast to the coolness in the air.
As you make your way out of the park, your mind wanders back to Tullus and his words. What could he possibly have to tell you that he doesn't want Amaimon to hear? The uncertainty gnaws at you, a persistent itch you can't quite scratch.
Amaimon appears to sense your discomfort. He pulls you closer, his arm encircling your waist. "Stop thinking about him," he growls softly, his breath warm against your ear.
-------------------------------------
“What do you want?” you ask Amaimon as the waitress hands you the notepad to mark everything. Sitting against the wall, Amaimon leans to your right, his eyes scanning the paper intently. He takes the pencil from you and starts checking off several options—various meats and vegetables. You raise an eyebrow at the items he's ticking off. “I’m guessing you’re hungry?” you say. He glances at you from the side while checking off gyoza as well. “We didn’t have lunch, and our cake ended up on the ground,” he reminds you. “You knocked the cakes over,” you retort.
He nods. “Yes, but you were more important.”
You feel a blush creep up your neck at his words, the mark tingling pleasantly. Amaimon's golden eyes flicker to you, and a hint of a smirk plays on his lips as he notices your reaction. He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "You're always more important."
The waitress returns, glancing at the heavily marked notepad with surprise. "Are you expecting more guests?" she asks, her pen hovering above the notepad.
“No,” Amaimon replies, staring blankly at the woman whose eyes widen in surprise. “Oh,” she mumbles, suddenly recalling her position, and quickly bows. “I’ll turn on the grill for you.” With that, she shifts her attention to the grill.
Once she finishes, you turn your attention back to Amaimon. “What do you want to do tonight? I’m tired of staring at books,” you admit. He shrugs, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your thigh beneath the table.
Amaimon's fingers tease and explore your thigh, sending jolts of electricity through your body. His golden eyes gaze blankly at you as he speaks with little emotion. "I can think of a few things we could do." As he talks, his hands move further between your thighs. “It’s so warm," he bluntly remarks.
Your breath hitches in your throat as Amaimon's hand glides higher between your thighs. The heat of his touch feels like it's burning through the fabric of your clothes. You glance around nervously, but the private booth provides a shield against prying eyes.
"Amaimon," you whisper, your voice wavering slightly. "We're in public."
He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "So?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "No one can see." His fingers continue their teasing exploration, slowly moving along your thigh.
You bite your lip to stifle a gasp as his hand inches higher. Once again, the mark on your neck pulses with heat, responding to his touch. The sounds of the restaurant fade away, leaving only the thundering of your heartbeat in your ears.
Amaimon continues, his voice low and husky, "I thought you were tired of staring at books. This is more fun... isn’t it?"
You're just about to reply when the waitress comes back with a tray full of meat and vegetables. Amaimon withdraws his hand casually, leaving you feeling flushed and embarrassed.
"Enjoy your meal," she says with a polite smile before retreating.
Amaimon quickly places the first pieces of meat on the grill. The sizzle of the food fills the air, blending with the smoky aroma.
“I love you," you whisper, nuzzling into Amaimon as the food sizzles on the grill. The demon king wraps his left arm around you, flipping the meat with his right hand.
You feel Amaimon's arm tighten around you as he nuzzles into your hair, inhaling deeply. "I love you too," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. The sizzle of food on the grill fills the air, blending with the smoky aroma and Amaimon's earthy scent.
As he tends to the food with one hand, you can't help but marvel at the domesticity of the moment. This powerful demon king, capable of great destruction, is here with you, grilling food and holding you close.
"It’s ready," he announces, picking up your favorite item with his chopsticks. bringing it to your lips. "Open," he commands.
"Good?" he asks, monotone. You nod, unable to speak around the mouthful. Amaimon leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I can think of something else I'd like you to taste later."
"Amaimon," you huff, slapping his chest and turning away to avoid him seeing your burning face.
He pulls back slightly and takes your jaw to turn your face toward him, his golden eyes locking onto yours. There's a hunger in his gaze that has nothing to do with the food before you. His thumb glides over your bottom lip, wiping away a stray drop of sauce. Without breaking eye contact, he brings his thumb to his mouth and licks it clean.
Amaimon's fingers trace along your jawline, tilting your face up towards him. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his thumb grazing your lower lip. "And all mine."
Before you can respond, he captures your lips in a passionate kiss. The flavor of grilled food blends with his distinct taste, rich and sweet. You melt into him, your hands gripping his jacket to pull him closer.
The sound of sizzling meat draws you back to reality. You break the kiss, breathless and flushed, only to find Amaimon staring at you with lidded eyes. "The food will burn," you manage to say, your face ablaze.
"Let it," Amaimon growls, his eyes dark with desire. Yet, he shifts his focus back to the grill, flipping the meat and vegetables.
You don’t even notice him enter the restaurant. Amaimon is nuzzling into your throat when hands suddenly slam onto the table, and frantic green eyes lock onto yours. “Who is Tullus?!”
“…nice to see you too, Katashi.”
Chapter 37: Chapter 37
Summary:
Sorry for the late update!
Chapter Text
Katashi stands before you, casting a shadow as he gazes down at you and Amaimon. His eyes are sharp and keen, reminiscent of a hawk's, as if he's gauging the situation with just one glance. In contrast, Amaimon remains completely unfazed, casually nibbling at the mark on your throat before pulling away. He then returns to his task of flipping food on the grill, his attention fixed on the sizzling meat. Yet, there’s an air of predation in his movements, as if he's poised to spring into action at the slightest hint of trouble.
“Katashi, please sit down; you’re causing a scene,” you say, your voice steady while your eyes discreetly scan the restaurant. Curious glances from nearby tables are beginning to turn in your direction.
Katashi’s eyebrows furrow in irritation, but he remains standing, his posture rigid. “Who is Tullus?” he demands, his voice cutting through the low hum of conversation around you.
“Sit down, Katashi,” you insist once more, your tone more insistent this time. Your uncle’s gaze shifts from you to Amaimon, who remains unnaturally still, his golden eyes revealing a barely concealed frustration. With an exaggerated sigh, Katashi finally slumps into the booth.
“Someone named Tullus approached me,” Katashi begins, his voice low but laced with an edge of unease. “He said he needed to speak with you—without the leech.” Katashi’s green eyes flicker briefly toward Amaimon.
“Are you hungry? Amaimon ordered more than enough,” you ask.
“______, who is Tullus?” Katashi presses again, his tone insistent.
“I don’t know,” you admit with a slow exhale, your fingers tapping lightly against the smooth surface of the table. “He approached me a few weeks ago, but I didn’t see him again until today. He’s been trying to catch me alone.”
Amaimon, maintaining his calm demeanor, gently brings a vegetable to your lips. Its sweet and warm flavor is pleasant, yet it does little to alleviate the gnawing feeling in your gut. Katashi’s sharp gaze remains fixed on you, as though he is trying to discern any hint that might provide an answer.
“What did he say other than needing to speak to me?” You question.
Katashi bites his lower lip, revealing his worry. His brow furrows more deeply as he reflects on their conversation. “He said it’s important, and if I listen to him...” He hesitates, stealing a quick glance at Amaimon before continuing, his voice lowering. “There’s a way to keep you safe from Amaimon.” Although Katashi doesn’t like Amaimon and has been struggling to accept that his perfect niece is in a long-term relationship with the demon king, something about Tullus unsettles him.
“Did he mention if he has any ties to me?” you ask, trying to mask the sudden tightness in your chest.
“I asked him, but he refused to answer.” Katashi’s fingers drum nervously against the table, his movements quick, as if he can’t sit still with the growing uncertainty. “But it’s scary... I wanted to believe him. I agreed to everything, even though I know nothing. For some reason, I felt comfortable when he left. But that feeling’s faded.” He looks at you, confusion clear in his expression. “Obviously, I hate you—sorry,” he adds to Amaimon.
Amaimon shrugs, unaffected by Katashi’s animosity. “But there was something off about him, and I can’t believe I agreed to all of this despite knowing so little.”
You feel Amaimon’s body tense beneath your fingertips, his arm’s muscles tightening as if bracing for an unseen event. His presence saturates the air, the intensity of his stillness more disconcerting than any words he might utter. His gaze fixates on Katashi, golden eyes shimmering with keen focus.
“What did you agree to?” Amaimon asks, his voice deceptively calm as he places another morsel of food on your plate, his fingers lingering for just a moment too long.
The sizzle of meat hitting the hot grill pierces the air, yet it does little to soothe the growing tension in your chest. Steam rises, intertwining with the rich aromas of spices and sizzling oil, but your appetite remains elusive. You reach beneath the table and grasp Amaimon’s fingers, squeezing them gently as a means to ground yourself.
“I agreed to bring you to meet him,” Katashi admits, his voice low and thick with discomfort. He runs a hand through his disheveled black hair, his fingers trembling slightly. “Tonight. Alone.”
“That’s not happening,” Amaimon declares, his voice firm and final. His tone leaves no room for argument as his thumb continues to trace slow circles over your wrist, an unspoken promise of protection.
Katashi opens his mouth to argue but seems to reconsider, quickly closing it again. His gaze flickers between you and Amaimon, clearly unsure of the kind of power Tullus holds. “Wait, he mentioned knowing Yasu. Could Yasu meet—”
“No.” You cut Katashi off, sensing that telling your dad about Tullus would complicate matters further, making it even more frustrating since he refuses to provide you with any answers.
Amaimon responds, his voice unwavering. “Tullus has some kind of attachment to you. You need to find out why. Even though he denied it, I think he’s related to you.”
“He said he wasn’t,” you reply quietly.
“He lied,” Amaimon mutters under his breath, his gaze narrowing, distrust burning in his eyes. “He’s too interested in you. He said he’s been looking for you.” His fingers move restlessly along your thigh beneath the table, and the tension in his touch is palpable. “Let’s go.”
“What? Go where?” You blink in confusion, taken off guard by the abrupt shift in Amaimon’s demeanor.
Amaimon doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he shakes his head and tosses a few bills onto the table, his movements smooth and deliberate. With a fluid motion, he pulls you out of the booth, his hand never leaving yours. “We’re going to find Tullus. Yasu won’t give you the truth, but Tullus will.”
“But he said he won’t speak to me if you’re around.”
“We’ll see.”
Tullus's home is nothing like you expected. The atmosphere is striking, blending stark elegance with a touch of coldness, featuring walls painted in varying shades of white and gray. Flowing white curtains drape gracefully from tall windows, fluttering in the evening breeze like ethereal wings. As you step inside, the soft whisper of fabric brushing against the window frames fills the silence.
Tullus scrutinizes you carefully, his silver eyes narrowing. “What part of ‘without the leech’ didn’t you understand?” His voice is sharp, faintly tinged with annoyance.
The silver-eyed man can’t help but give a look of disgust as he steps aside for you and the demon king to his home. “I can’t believe a demon is in my home- you’re lucky I love you _____.”
The words catch both you and Amaimon off guard, but for different reasons. You’re left feeling confused, while Amaimon’s anger rises, a subtle change in his posture marking the shift in the room’s energy.
The air seems to thicken, crackling with electricity as Amaimon’s power pulses outward. His muscles tense, and you can feel the pressure radiating off him, though he makes no outward move. His hands tighten into fists, the knuckles stark white with restraint. “Love her?” Amaimon’s voice is dangerously blunt. “Saying that to my mate?”
Tullus doesn’t flinch. He steps forward, his silver eyes meeting Amaimon’s golden ones with unwavering confidence. “Yeah,” he replies, unfazed by Amaimon’s growing fury.
Amaimon’s body remains coiled, a tense beast ready to strike, but Tullus just rolls his eyes. “It’s not romantic love, you idiot,” he retorts. “Can’t you even distinguish romantic love from other types? It should be obvious that it’s not romantic. Look, _____, demons can’t even tell the difference between types of love. You should find a better mate.”
You reach out, fingers brushing against Amaimon’s arm, silently urging him to calm down. You can tell Tullus is trying to provoke him, but it’s evident he’s doing it just to see how far he can push.
Amaimon glances at you, his golden eyes softening for a moment before narrowing again, serving as a warning to Tullus that he’s treading on dangerous ground. “You’re a Nephilim, right?” he asks, his tone cool but edged with suspicion.
Tullus shakes his head with a small smirk. “I’m not a Nephilim. I’m one hundred percent angel.” He pauses, his gaze distant as if recalling some bitter memory. “If I were a Nephilim, I wouldn’t have lived past five—neither of my parents cared for me.” He shrugs, but there’s no pain in his eyes, just a cold, detached acceptance of his past.
“Then why do you smell like a Nephilim?” Amaimon presses, his frown deepening.
Tullus raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by Amaimon’s persistence. “Exactly how many angel Nephilim do you know?”
Amaimon’s gaze flickers toward you, and Tullus scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Exactly. You’re an idiot. We don’t smell the same because we’re Nephilim. We smell the same because we’re siblings.”
The words linger in the air like shards of broken glass, sharp and impossible to ignore. You freeze, your breath catching in your throat. For a moment, everything else fades away—the world narrows until only the man before you remains. His silver eyes pierce through you, and the truth of his words settles in like a heavy weight in your chest.
“Siblings?” you finally manage to choke out, the word sounding foreign and strange as it leaves your lips.
Tullus sighs, his expression softening slightly, though his eyes remain as cold as ever. “Yes. Half-siblings.”
Amaimon’s growl vibrates through your body, his chest pressing against your back as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He moves instinctively, as if shielding you from the revelation that is still settling in your mind.
“I’m not here to take her from you,” Tullus says, his voice lowering. “Though heaven knows she deserves better.”
The room feels as though it is closing in on you, the air thick and stifling as you struggle to grasp the significance of what is being said. You place your hands over Amaimon’s, steadying yourself as your heart races in your chest.
“That’s impossible,” you whisper, the words barely audible.
“I was a mistake,” Tullus says with an empty shrug. “That’s why neither of my parents cared for me.”
“Why are you here?” Amaimon demands, his voice tense, the protective instinct within him flaring.
“Because it’s not fair,” Tullus declares, his tone hardening once more. “For thousands of years, my father ignored me. Now he suddenly wants his half-angel child? Why?” He stops, glancing at you, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “No, I’m joking. I don’t care about my parents. I wanted to find my sister. I sensed her presence at her birth. I’ve spent eighteen years searching for you, _____.”
“Why?” Amaimon presses, his voice dark with suspicion.
For just a moment, Tullus’s expression softens; the mask of indifference slips away, and for the briefest instant, something resembling warmth flickers in his eyes. “Because she’s family. Is it a crime to want to know my sister?”
“Family?” you repeat, your voice hoarse, tasting the word as if it’s foreign to you. “If you’re my half-brother, then your father is—”
“Cassian,” Tullus finishes for you, his smile bitter and full of pain. “The great angel who abandoned his first-born son, only to play devoted father to his half angel daughter thousands of years later.”
Amaimon's grip tightens around you, his breath warm against your neck. "That's why you smell like her," he murmurs, more to himself than anyone else in the room. His golden eyes narrow at Tullus. "If you've known about her for eighteen years, why show yourself now?"
The curtains flutter again, and for a moment, you swear you see the shadow of wings stretching from Tullus's back against the far wall. But when you blink, there's nothing there.
“I couldn’t find her,” Tullus admits, his voice quieter now, almost wistful. “Cassian made sure of that. He hid her essence from me, from everyone. It wasn’t until recently that I felt her presence again. I’m guessing it’s because she was tainted by you.”
The gentle aroma of sandalwood intertwines with an almost ethereal essence, as the room settles into silence. Outside the windows, city lights twinkle like faraway stars, and for a fleeting moment, the burden of the revelation feels nearly unbearable.
“Angels are perfect liars,” Tullus adds, his voice low but filled with a bitterness that seems to seep from his every word. “All this time, he’s been playing the game with you and your mother. A perfect little family, built on lies.”
The silence in the room thickens after Tullus’s words, hanging in the air like an unspoken threat. Amaimon, still standing protectively by your side, remains tense, his body coiled as though ready to strike at any moment. His eyes, which had softened for a brief second, are now hard again, and his lips barely move as he speaks.
“You want something from her. What is it?”
Tullus raises an eyebrow, leaning casually against the sleek, white couch as though the gravity of the moment doesn’t affect him at all. He tilts his head, considering the question, and his silver eyes glint with amusement.
“Want something from her? No. Just wanted to meet her and assess the situation.”
“Another liar,” Amaimon says without hesitation as you step into your apartment. He kicks off his boots, the thud echoing in the quiet space, then wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. “It seems your family is full of them.”
“Which part do you think he was lying about?”
“About why he’s here.”
You press your head against Amaimon’s neck and ask, “So, what about the rest? Do you think he’s really my brother and that my dad actually abandoned him thousands of years ago because he didn’t want him?” Amaimon shudders as your lips brush against the mate mark while you speak. “It’s possible your father didn’t find out until much later. Maybe he’s still unaware that he has a son. If Tullus was an accident, I doubt his parents stayed together during his mother’s pregnancy.”
Your fingers trace the curve of Amaimon's jaw, feeling the subtle tension still lingering in his muscles. "You don't think Tullus would lie about being my brother, do you?" The question hangs between you, delicate and weighted.
Amaimon's eyes flicker with an unreadable emotion before he shakes his head. "No, that part is true. Your scents are too similar to be a coincidence." His thumb gently brushes against your cheek, a tender gesture despite the seriousness of his words. You sigh and close your eyes. “I don’t want to think about this any longer tonight.”
You feel Amaimon's hands slide beneath your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he carries you toward the bedroom. The familiar scent of his skin—earth and sweet candy—wraps around you like a protective spell, momentarily pushing away the chaos of revelations.
"Then don't," he murmurs against your hair, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through your chest. "Just be with me tonight."
The soft glow of moonlight filters through the curtains, painting silver patterns across the bed as Amaimon lays you down. His golden eyes seem to absorb the light, glowing with an otherworldly intensity that reminds you of what he truly is—a being of immense power who has chosen you as his mate. The thought brings both comfort and complexity after today's discoveries.
"I can feel you thinking," Amaimon says, hovering just above you, his weight resting comfortably on his forearms. His clawed fingers lightly sweep a strand of hair away from your face. "I can feel your heart racing."
You reach up, tracing the sharp angle of his jawline. "How many more lies are there?" The question escapes before you can stop it.
“I don’t know.” He answers honestly.
“Imagine if I had a secret sibling from mom’s side too.” You joke as you move his hands to the collar of his shirt and then grasp the buttons.
Amaimon's lips curl slightly, a ghost of a smile in response to your attempt at humor. “Isn’t there a saying about not jinxing yourself?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your skin as he leans down to press his lips against your throat. Your fingers move quickly, undoing the buttons of his shirt, and the fabric falls open, revealing the pale expanse of his chest. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe I have such a beautiful being in my life forever," you say.
Amaimon's eyes darken at your words, a flicker of possessiveness crossing his features before he captures your lips with his. The kiss is deep and consuming, as if he's attempting to erase every doubt and revelation that has shaken your world today. His fingers weave through your hair, cradling your head with unexpected gentleness, despite the intensity of his desire.
"Forever," he echoes against your mouth, the word both a promise and a declaration.
The coolness of his skin contrasts sharply with the warmth building within you as his hands explore the contours of your body—familiar yet exhilarating. Each touch is intentional; his claws trace delicate patterns across your collarbone and down the gentle curve of your waist. The mate mark on your neck pulses with a comforting warmth, responding to his closeness and the connection that ties you together beyond blood or lineage.
"Stop overthinking about them," Amaimon says bluntly, his breath chilling your heated skin. "Let’s just focus on us and our future.”
His words ground you in the moment, drawing you away from the turmoil of your racing thoughts. You gently lift your hands to cradle his face, your thumbs tracing the defined contours of his cheekbones, feeling the slight tremor in his body that reveals his tightly restrained control.
"Our future," you whisper, the words a soft prayer in the moonlit room.
Amaimon's eyes flash with something primal and possessive as he presses his forehead against yours. The weight of his body above you is comforting, grounding you in the reality of what you have—here and now—rather than in the questions that plague your mind about your past.
"I will give you everything," he vows, his voice thick with emotion. His lips graze your mate mark, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. "A home, children, protection... everything you desire."
For all his demonic nature, and all the power coursing through his veins, Amaimon has always shown you a side of himself that no one else sees. Your fingers trail down his bare chest, feeling his heart thundering beneath your touch.
"I know.”
Chapter 38: Chapter 38
Summary:
I really need to go through and re-read everything. I've been working on making an outline with details so it's hopefully smoother in the future.
I feel like, because of my horrible memory, I forget important things and it affects the story
Chapter Text
You can feel the demon king’s eyes on you as you pace the length of his bedroom. Amaimon doesn’t say anything—just watches, letting you burn through the frantic energy in your chest. It’s too much to take in all at once. An angel sibling. Just having a sibling at all is shocking enough, but an angel?
“He wanted me to meet him alone,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him.
“Yes,” Amaimon replies.
“Are angel Nephilim really supposed to be killed by other angels?” you ask, stopping mid-stride to face him. It’s hard to wrap your head around the idea that angels would be that cruel. “What if he wants to meet me alone to kill me?”
“That’s why you’re not meeting him alone.” His tone is flat. “I’m more powerful than him. If he tried to harm you, I’d kill him.”
You bite your lip. “Are you sure you’re stronger? You’re not stronger than Dad, so—”
Amaimon cuts you off with a dry, unimpressed look.
“If you were me, what would you do?” you press.
“Nothing.” He answers bluntly. “Why would I make their problems mine? I don’t care.”
You stare at him for a moment. He really means it. He’s so brutally straightforward sometimes, so opposite of your thoughts most of the time.
“You’re not the center of their world,” he adds, tilting his head slightly. “You’re the center of mine. Ignore everyone else.”
That makes you laugh, though there’s an edge of relief in it. Right. Amaimon is your mate. You are his priority. “I’m the center of your world?”
He looks at you like you’ve just asked him whether the sky is blue. “Yes,” he sighs, golden eyes burning into yours. “And you know it.” He’s quiet for a moment, “Aren’t I the center of yours?”
You freeze, breath catching at how directly he asks it. Finally, you shake your head and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Yes, of course. But I still want to learn more about Tullus.”
Amaimon frowns. “Really? I was thinking we could just leave the country and ignore your family drama.”
You roll your eyes. “That’s kind of dramatic. Also, I’m still in high school. Running away a few months before graduation would be stupid.”
“Big Brother would give you a diploma if you asked,” Amaimon argues. And he’s right—Mephisto could easily make it happen.
“Still dramatic,” you counter.
“It’s not running away,” he says, claws dragging lazily down your back. “It’s calculated, not desperate.”
You huff against his shoulder, half amused, half exasperated. “I love you, but I’m not leaving in the middle of this. Besides, Tullus would follow.”
Amaimon shrugs, unbothered. “He would. He’s not here for Yasu, he’s here for you. But we don’t have to stay around the rest of your family’s drama. Your mother hates me. Your uncle hates me.”
“I didn’t think you cared—”
“I don’t,” he says flatly. “But it gives me an excuse to leave.”
Your hands slide down his arms, tracing the ridges of his muscles. “Do you really want to go somewhere else? Like… actually start over? Where would you go?”
“Anywhere.” His mouth brushes the side of your throat. “Paris. Athens. Antarctica.”
“Antarctica?” you murmur, eyebrows raised. “That’s your first choice?”
“I like penguins,” he says, and you swear you catch the faintest flicker of a smirk at the corner of his mouth.
You snicker. “Amaimon, you’d eat a penguin.”
His brows lift. “Wouldn’t you?”
“No! I love penguins!” You swat at his shoulder. “And I doubt they taste good.”
“They’re high in protein,” he replies with absolute seriousness. “Good for surviving hostile climates.”
You can’t help it—you laugh against his neck before nipping gently. “I bet they taste awful.”
“Nothing tastes awful if you’re hungry enough.”
“No. Leave the penguins alone.” You pinch his shoulder, but he doesn’t even flinch.
Your laughter fades into a sigh. “Really though… what if I have powers I don’t know about? Dad said my life will be extended, but surely there’s something else. Look at Rin—he inherited Satan’s flames. What if…”
Amaimon leans back just enough to meet your gaze, golden eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “You’re not Rin. But you’re not just human either.” His claws tap lightly against your waist, as if marking each word. “Sometimes your aura flickers. I don’t understand it.”
“So… if I do have powers, what does that mean?”
“Maybe they’re something that don’t show up until you need them most,” Amaimon says simply, brushing his nose against your cheek. “Probably when you’re about to die. That’s how it usually works in anime.”
You gape at him. “Seriously? Anime.”
A sharp grin flickers across his face. “Humans write stories because sometimes they’re closer to the truth than they realize.” He tilts his head, as if testing the idea in his own mind. “It’s possible.”
You shake your head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Believable enough that you agreed to be my mate,” he counters.
Your heart stutters as his hand slides from your waist to your wrist, fingers curling with deliberate care around your pulse. His claws don’t press, but the reminder of them sends a shiver down your spine. “If you did have powers,” he continues, eyes narrowing as though reading something only he can see, “they would be strong coming from your father.”
You swallow hard. “You make it sound like I’m dangerous.”
“Maybe you are.” He says it without hesitation, the blunt certainty in his tone leaving no room for argument. “To me. To everyone else. It’s possible.”
Your fingers twitch against his chest, caught between unease and comfort. “…And that doesn’t bother you?”
Amaimon shrugs. “No. It excites me.” He leans down, his lips grazing the corner of your mouth before trailing slowly toward the mate mark on your throat. The touch sends warmth rippling through you, washing away the fear of Tullus, of your father, of whatever secrets still hang over your life.
“You’re mine,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble vibrating against your skin. “Even if your powers wake up tomorrow and tear the world apart—you’ll still be mine.”
You let out a shaky laugh, though it catches in your throat. “That’s not exactly reassuring.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll help you tear it apart.”
You slap his shoulder. “Idiot.”
“I would.” He shrugs, as if destroying the world together is the most ordinary promise he could make.
“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter.
His claws brush lazily up your spine, leaving trails of heat in their wake. “You like it.”
You roll your eyes, though you can’t help but smile. “You’re lucky I do.”
Amaimon tilts his head, studying you like you’re something fragile he doesn’t quite know how to hold. Then, softer than you expect, he says, “I’ll always keep you safe. You’re mine.”
Your chest tightens, an ache spreading through you at his blunt devotion. “Amaimon…”
His golden eyes lock on yours. “Say it back.”
“What?”
“That I’m yours.” He doesn’t blink, just waits. “You’re mine. I want to hear that I’m yours too.”
You slide your hands up his arms to his shoulders, pulling yourself closer until your lips nearly brush his. “Of course you’re mine,” you whisper. “Since you decided all the cookies I brought on my first day of school belonged to you.” You huff. “Though I didn’t know it yet. I still can’t believe you did that. I was going to pass them out to different people to make friends.
Amaimon’s lips twitch, amusement flickering across his face. “They were good cookies.”
You give him a flat look. “That’s not the point. You ruined my entire plan to make friends.”
“I made you a friend,” he says simply, as if it’s obvious. “Me.”
You open your mouth, ready to argue, but the words tangle in your throat. “…You’re impossible.”
His grin sharpens, his claws grazing lightly down your arm until he laces his fingers with yours. “and yet, you basically married me by human standards. Right?” He glances at the ceiling. “You want a human wedding?”
“I feel like I’m too young to be married.”
“By demon—and angel, standards, you already are.”
You shrug, “I’m human—”
“Half.”
“Half human, raised human. Having a wedding will be what makes it real for me.” You stand up, “Which won’t happen until after graduation.” You quickly add when he opens his mouth.
“A wedding—okay I want a big cake.”
You give him a blank stare. “That’s your first thought when it comes to weddings?”
“No, my first thought is you, then cake. Can you bake it? Your cakes are my favorite.”
“I am not baking a huge wedding cake—wait how did we go from talking about something serious and important to this?”
“Cake is important to me.”
You blink at him. “Yeah, I’m aware. Can we get back to the conversation about my brother?”
“I don’t care about him. He’s not important.” Amaimon tugs you back down into his lap, resting his chin on your shoulder.
You frown. “He might be my brother, Amaimon. Don’t you think I should at least… I don’t know, try to understand him?”
His claws press lightly against your hip, not hard, just enough to remind you of the sharpness beneath the surface. “He is your brother, going by your scent, also I told you before. Angels always have hidden agendas. He didn’t spend eighteen years searching for you because he cares. He wants something.”
You lean your head back against his shoulder, taking a deep breath. “But what if it’s true? What if he just wanted to find me? He said he doesn’t care about Dad, just me. He is interested in his family…”
Amaimon scoffs softly. “Demons say things to manipulate. Angels are worse. At least demons admit they’re selfish. Angels lie and pretend it’s holy.”
You chew on your lip, staring at your hands. “So, you think he’s lying?”
“Why would an ancient Angel care about a half-sibling who’s thousands of years younger when they don’t even have a relationship with the parent? It doesn’t make sense.” He sighs, “We’ll go see him tomorrow morning.”
-------------------------
You stare at the door in front of you, your right hand raised to knock, while your other hand tightens around Amaimon’s. You hesitate a moment too long, and the door swings open. Standing before you is Tullus. He’s dressed in a loose white shirt and loose beige pants. His silver eyes lock onto you as he raises an eyebrow. “Good morning.” He then gives Amaimon a look of displeasure. “Going to stink up my home again? I need to buy some sage.” He sighs but steps aside, welcoming you into his apartment.
When you step through the doorway, Tullus grabs some indoor shoes and gently places yours in front of you, while carelessly leaving a pair that’s way too big in front of Amaimon.
“Have you had breakfast? I baked some brioche last night, and I can make you a cappuccino." He pushes a plate of freshly baked bread toward you, and your eyes widen in delight.
“You bake?”
“Yes, it’s something I enjoy," he shrugs. “I’m ancient, I have to find something to keep myself entertained. Not everyone enjoys destroying random things like wild beasts.” He shoots Amaimon a look. “Anyway, come sit here. I’ll make you a cappuccino.” He motions to the seats at the bar.
Tullus watches as you sit down and take a brioche. “How is it?”
It’s similar to a croissant but not as flaky and slightly larger and when you take a bite your eyes light up. “It’s filled with chocolate. This is breakfast for you?”
“Really common in Italy, which is typically where I prefer to stay.” He explains as the espresso machine comes to life.
“I want to leave.” The words spill from your lips before you can stop them. “Leave Japan, away from my parents and—” Amaimon slaps a hand over your mouth.
Tullus narrows his eyes slightly but doesn’t comment on the disgusting demon touching you. “And?” he questions.
Amaimon glares at the angel. “Stop.”
After a tense moment, Tullus turns his back to you and Amaimon. “I’m not doing anything,” he says calmly as he grabs some milk to make the cappuccino. “Is he always like this with you _____? Never lets you finish speaking? That’s toxic.”
Amaimon takes the pastry from you and examines it, turning it as if he’s searching for something, but you're not sure what.
“It’s a regular brioche,” Tullus smirks at Amaimon.
Amaimon scowls at the pastry in his hand, tearing off a piece and popping it into his mouth as if it personally offended him. “It’s normal,” he mutters after chewing, golden eyes shifting toward Tullus. “Too normal. Boring.”
Tullus doesn’t bite the bait. Instead, he leans back in his chair, watching you over the rim of his untouched drink. His silver eyes are steady, too steady.
Your stomach twists under the weight of his gaze. It isn’t hostile, just…pressing.
You try to focus on Amaimon beside you—his warmth, his grounding presence—but the words still come up, clawing their way out of your throat.
“I don’t want to stay here.”
As Tullus places the cappuccino on the table, his silver eyes lock onto yours with quiet intensity. There’s no command or demand in his look, but the atmosphere around him feels heavy, pressing against your chest and making it harder to keep your thoughts hidden. Your lips part instinctively before you realize it.
“I’m tired of being here.”
The confession slips out like a sigh. You hadn’t meant to say it aloud. Amaimon stiffens beside you, his golden eyes narrowing at Tullus.
“What are you doing to her?” Amaimon growls.
“Nothing,” Tullus replies smoothly, though the faint curl of his lips hints that he knows exactly what’s happening. He doesn’t lean forward or push—yet the weight of his gaze makes it impossible to look away.
You try to swallow the next words, but they spill out anyway. “I don’t want to help Mom when I know she hates Amaimon.” Your fingers dig into the edge of the bar, knuckles turning white as if you can physically hold the words back. “I don’t care if she has problems with Dad, I hate how she hates Amaimon and it makes me not care if her relationship with Dad is fixed. I’m even more furious with Dad for lying to me about something so important. And I’m scared—scared of what’s going to happen.”
Amaimon’s hand grips yours, grounding and steady, but it doesn’t silence you. The truth continues spilling, driven out by some invisible force.
“I hate them both.”
Tullus chuckles softly. “We have so much in common. I admit I dislike—hate—the demon king. However, I’m not an idiot. Your mother thinks she can separate you.” He reaches for the mark on your throat but stops just short of touching it. “Humans don’t realize how binding these marks really are.” He drops his hand to the counter and taps his fingers against it like he’s in thought. “Which is probably why he didn’t mark your mother.”
“What—”
“Demons and angels can mark humans as mates. However, humans often don’t understand what it truly means. The mark can be deadly.” His eyes flicker to Amaimon before turning his attention back to you. “You see, humans aren’t known for having long relationships. It often ends in divorce. The mark doesn’t cause you to love the person more or force the relationship to work. The mark won’t stop you from falling out of love. However, it will stop you from falling in love with another, and if you push it too far, it kills.”
Tullus’s words are slow, his voice soft as he continues, “The mate mark is a shackle. It’s romantic if you stay happy, but misery if you fall out of love.” You watch Amaimon, his jaw tense, unreadable as he listens.
“You’ll never even want to look at anyone else again,” Tullus finishes. “It’s a little cruel, don’t you think?”
Tullus rests his elbow on the counter, tilting his chin in his palm. “There are those who fight it, they want to move on. To be able to fall in love again with someone else, it’s fatal for them.”
“So the mark is… fatal if someone tries to love another?”
Tullus looks pleased at your quick understanding. “At first, it just isolates you. Keeps you from feeling love for anyone but the one who marked you. But if you fight that pull, if you force yourself to love someone else, the mark responds. It’s self-correcting—a fail-safe that preserves the bond even at the cost of the host. Some try, thinking they’re stronger than a demon’s mark, or more righteous than an angel’s claim. They all die the same.”
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