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“Ahhh! Do ya smell that? The smell of Grimm is in the air, and it’s gonna be all mine by the time we’re done here!”
The display of exuberance and cockiness Mammon had radiating off of himself as he cast his greedy gaze across the lobby of the casino was such a contradiction to the babbling demon that had been a hysterical mess in the car. For his own benefit or downfall, it was obvious that gambling was an element Mammon felt confident in. Even if it was usually false confidence. Watching him, it was almost like another day trip here for him, instead of a last-ditch attempt to save himself.
It was a collision of shitty timing and bad luck that sent Mammon busting into your room, almost sending you to the Celestial Realm from the sheer fright. He was rambling about owing something and bills coming in and not being able to get to them in time as he slammed your door shut, but it was all background noise as you tried to coax your soul back into your body.
“Mammon, what the fuck?!”
“Ya gotta help me!”
“With what? Why? What are you dragging me into this time?” This was such a commonplace occasion that the first thing you noticed that was wrong with this situation - beyond the obvious - was that nowhere, absolutely nowhere, amongst the building questions and angry retorts was there a refusal or denial to whatever ordeal Mammon was about to include you in. Your participation in his five-second-thought process of instant wealth or get-rich-quick schemes has become just as predictable as the inevitable failures. The notion of even turning Mammon down hardly registered anymore.
“Are you really askin’ that right now?!”
“Yes?! Considering you just barged in here, scared the hell out of me, and--”
“Ahh, we ain’t got time for that! Just shut up and say you’ll help!”
The cacophony of noise that had invaded your room became a dumbfounded silence. You blinked, stunned, and tilted your head at the audacity of this demon. Shock and confusion instantly turned into incensed exasperation. “Excuse you?”
Mammon lagged on a response before he uttered a simple, “Ah,” a sound of realization that he noticed he was messing up his chances of getting you to aid in his plight. “Wait, hold on, that’s not what I meant. What I mean is I need you-- No, I beseech you to please to lend a helpin' hand! I’m beggin’ ya, I really need you to say yes, and I promise to make it up to ya! Please!”
“…What do you need?”
“So you’ll help me?! Awesome, I knew I could count on you!!”
“Wait, what? No, I didn’t yet, I asked what--”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell ya about it on the way there! Just meet me in front of the house in ten minutes-- No, five minutes! Three!! Make sure no one sees ya leaving either!”
“Wait, Mammon! Explain--!”
Like a whirlwind, he was gone out of your room before you could get any semblance of explanation about what was going on. There was only a brief pause of hesitancy before you sighed and performed a short search for your D.D.D. that had been dropped. As you knelt down to check it over, brushing off specks of dirt, you half-glanced towards the door. Despite the problems and trouble Mammon dragged you into, sometimes against your will, you knew underneath your initial fuss and complaints that you could never actually say no, especially at this point.
“He’s lucky he has a cute face…”
The Demonio 666 Lexura obnoxiously purred as it idled, a constant, throaty note that was anything but subtle and unnoticeable. Mammon watched you hurry away from the House of Lamentation and scurry around the front of his car. The combustion of the engine roaring as Mammon revved it made you wonder what the point of sneaking out was, considering that everyone that was in the house probably heard it, but you already made your choice. The moment he heard the seat-belt click, the two of you were speeding off. The burst of acceleration was so impactful that your hand gripped the door handle out of instinct, your whole body being recoiled into the plush leather.
After taking a moment to catch your breath, you shifted in your seat to look at Mammon. His focus was ahead with wherever the destination was. You were so tempted to ask him outright what the hell was going on, but you knew Mammon got bothered whenever you stared at him. It felt right to just have him squirm until he confessed himself, so a prolonged gaze is what he got. The weight of your undeterred concentration caused a couple hurried peeks and uncomfortable wiggles and fidgets before he broke the tortuous silence.
“Wh-Why are you starin’ at me so intensely like that? You’re makin’ me nervous!”
“Good! Explain to me what you did and where we’re going and why you’re involving me in this!”
“Oh, that…” Mammon mumbled as you noticed his hands releasing their tightened hold on the steering wheel. “So, I need your help with earnin’ some big bucks and quick. Like, crazy quick. A lotta letters and invoices are supposed to be comin’ in the mail today sayin’ I owe a whole bunch of Grimm that I ain’t got, and I got some credit cards that are also due that Lucifer won’t let me miss payin’. I know I won’t be able to hide all’a those without Lucifer sniffin’ around, too. The worst part of all that is that I don’t get paid from my modeling job until two days from now, and my paycheck from my part-time job only covered what I owed from The Fall. So, I’m seriously stripped for cash right now.”
“Well, what are you going to do about that?”
“It’s a foolproof plan, trust me!”
“…What?”
“Just trust me, will ya?” Mammon gave you a fixed look with a smirk. A smug smirk. You knew that smirk. You have seen it way too many times to not to be able to decipher it. It was too optimistic, too self-assured. It was too unbothered by bad consequences. That smirk meant nothing but trouble. Trouble that usually ended up with Mammon strung up from the ceiling by his feet, and you sensed that you would probably be joining him.
By the time Mammon had parked the Demonio you already had a firm grasp on what his foolproof plan was – he was going to try to earn the amount he owed by chancing his luck at a casino he frequented. You trailed behind Mammon as he entered the building, regretting a bit more and more for joining him on this endeavor. The flashy interior and loud chatter and noisy machines only made your regret morph into dread.
“Alright, I’m gonna go cash in for some chips and start hittin’ up some poker tables. C’mon!”
As you approached the cashier station with Mammon that this plan was dumb. Really dumb. The odds of Mammon hitting big at casinos on good days without being under duress were unpredictable oddities at best. The moment the both of you entered the line in front of the cashier station a sudden bout of nerves made you hesitate with going forward silently with this naïve ambition. The eager people in line waiting to exchange their money for rigged opportunities, deluded by the assumption of being able to attain more than what they would lose in gambling, made you second-guess this entire thing for a different option. Grabbing the sleeve of his jacket, you tugged Mammon out from the queue and off to the side to talk.
“Whoa! Don’t pull on my jacket like that! You’ll stretch out the material.”
“Mammon, how far did you even think this through? I don’t really understand poker or any of the other card games like you do, except blackjack. You’re acting so full of yourself but are you sure you can win the gambles to cover everything you need to? You’re not the only one that’s going to get punished if this fails.”
“Huh? Are ya seriously doubtin’ the Great Mammon right now?”
“..Yes! You haven’t even told me how much Grimm you need!”
“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear ya say that. Look, I know my winnin’ streaks can be off sometimes, but I feel it. This time will be different, because you’re here with me. You’re my lucky charm, and with you around I’m bound to hit nothin’ but success!”
You blinked in disbelief at the foolishly optimistic cheek he had to downplay your concern. Despite the mountain of evidence and many, many past failures of this very arrogance landing him in hot water with Lucifer, the ability to continue forward believing that his halfway thought-out plan would be successful was, mayhaps to your own character flaws influenced by loving this madman, swayed you from your reluctance. Despite the logical part of your brain telling you to not be wooed by his handsome face and enticing golden-blue eyes, you returned to the line with Mammon. You never stood a chance at actually going against what he wanted.
The first hour went by painfully and slowly. Mammon had settled at a poker table, and you stood beside him, watching the dealer prepare the next game as other people approached and joined in. You knew the basics of the card game and how cards could form different types of hands, and Mammon claimed this was his specialty amongst card games, but by the fifth game Mammon had lost. Seven chips was all he had left. Compared to the tall stacks of the other players, this dream of an attempt for quick Grimm was coming to an end real fast.
You stared over his shoulder at the cards in his hand, trying to remember the ranks. Pairs and straight were simple enough to remember, but how a flush and full house worked were concepts that always went over your head. Mammon held two black cards, the Queen of Spades and the Queen of Clubs. On the table were three cards – a Queen of Hearts, a nine of Spades, and a three of Diamonds.
“I’m goin’ all in,” Mammon announced, sliding in the remainder of the chips he had in front of him to the pile of money.
If he lost those, that was it. Whatever hand he thought he had, you hoped he had. The others put in their bets or folded. When the dealer placed the next two cards down, a two of Diamonds and an Ace of Hearts, Mammon placed his cards down on the table with the other players.
“Three of a kind! The winner this time is you, sir,” the dealer said as he pushed the winning amount towards Mammon.
“Hell yeah! Now that’s more like it!” Mammon swiveled in his chair towards you with a beaming grin. “I told ya, just believe in the Great Mammon! Here, take some of these and play some games, too.”
Mammon dropped several black and yellow chips into your hands and turned his attention back to the new round that was beginning, but you were unsure about leaving him. What if this was just a one-off win, a moment of brief luck? What if Mammon got too cocky and bit off more than what he could chew and lost everything he just won back?
“Are... you sure I should leave you now?”
“Yeah, go find what ya can, blackjack or something. If we both play, we can earn the Grimm twice as fast! I’m countin’ on ya to rake in some big wins, too!”
Despite initially feeling skeptical about leaving Mammon to his own devices, it only took a few lowball wins to ease your concerns. You started easy at the roulette table, making easy bets on either red and black or odd and even numbers. Even though you received more chips than you had been given, you never felt secure enough in the chance of winning a big payout with a straight up bet. The odds of hitting a single number out of 36 seemed too low for your conscience to handle.
The more you won, the more assertive you became with higher bets on each roll. You were still reserved about going too costly with any one bet, but the rush of victory spiked your dopamine levels. The surge of pleasure you got win a positive chance hit was almost addictive. It compelled you to go one more time, raise the stakes just a little bit higher. By the time you doubled the amount of chips you started out with, your body was buzzing with excitement. The lady running the game gave you a rack to put your chips in and seeing half of it already full with green, black, and yellow colors made you giddy with anticipation to continue on.
Blackjack was another game of strategic luck that you played well at. Most of your wins came from there. Making sure not to exceed the total count of 21 on or having the dealer break and paying out to the participants under 21 was a simple method to go by. You initially went small with the green coins, but when you got into the rhythm you offered up the higher-ranked colors. You took a few hits in losing, a couple of big losses, and sensibility started to rationalize that you should be more careful with what you were forking out. However, when a doubled bet compensated back what you had lost, the sense of avarice came back strong.
The next couple of hours went by in a blur as the percentage of your wins increased and greed dared you to push your limits. You stopped worrying about Mammon. You stopped being cautious. You were forming an addiction with greed, and it felt wonderful. You felt possessed by a craving desire to continue. Fuck limits and being wary and heedful of the chance of downfall. It was ravenous and almost maddening how the lust for money was controlling you. Was this how Mammon felt, being the Avatar of Greed?
Mammon had sent a text shortly after you had left him, telling you how much you should try to win, at least 100,000 Grimm, but the overall winnings, for you at least, was way past that at this point. Regardless of that, you were about to go in for another round of blackjack when your phone started going off. You stepped away from the table to check who was messaging you. It was Mammon telling you that it was time to cash in your chips. He also sent a picture of where to find him afterwards so the total Grimm won could be tallied up.
After turning over your chips for the very large payout that was sent electronically to your account, you made your way through the maze of people to where Mammon told you to meet up with him - by the hallway that transitioned from the gambling lounge to the bar of the casino. By the time you had familiarized yourself with the surroundings from the photo Mammon had sent you for reference, you could hear his voice amongst the chatter and laughter. It sounded nervous and higher in pitch, broken parts you could understand were quick to agreement and affirmations. You knew that tone – he was talking to Lucifer.
“--essir! No, I’m, uh, just gettin’ the Grimm I owe you, so-- No, I ain’t lyin’!”
Jittery and high from the adrenaline rush of your positive outcome on the floor, you giddily grinned while approaching Mammon. His eyes connected with yours but his attention was on the phone call as Lucifer verbally rimmed him about the invoices sent to him. An overflowing sense of self-worth overrode your better judgment, and without much thought to it, you ran your fingers up Mammon’s forearm and slipped his D.D.D. out of his hand and into yours, staring at the screen of capitalized words reading DON’T PICK UP before you ended the call with uncaring conviction that only someone with a death wish could have. Mammon stared at you in shock as you hugged him, placing his phone in his back pocket. You gave his ass a quick squeeze, which elicited a yelp of surprise from Mammon, and you cackled out a laugh.
“H-Hey! You can’t just start squeezin’ whatever part of me ya want like that without some kinda warnin’! What do ya think you’re doin’?!”
“Enjoying the moment? Saving you from having to hear Lucifer yell at you? Being frisky? Take your pick.”
“Geez, what is up with you?”
Apparently hitting it big at the casino was a hidden turn-on switch for you, or maybe the greediness of winning and the high feeling of emotions paired with being by Mammon was channeling into arousal. You noticed an open space on the opposite side of the hall – a gold plaque beside the entryway labeled it a resting room. Grabbing his hand, you pull Mammon into the little cove area that would lead into the room and trap him across the small space of wall, your body almost pressing into him as you tried to hide yourselves in the corner.
“Mammon.”
“Wh-What?”
“I’m pretty sure I have more than enough to cover what you told me to get-- Actually, I know I do, and I can transfer that to you in a moment, but do you swear you have the rest of what you need? You didn’t get cocky and stupid and gamble off whatever you won, instead?”
Mammon snorted indigently. “Of course, I have my side of the Grimm! I’m insulted ya would insinuate that I wouldn’t be good for doing my part, considerin’ what’s all at stake.
“You can't really blame me for checking."
Mammon pulled a face as he mumbled unintelligible words. He knew you were right, and the way he was simmering proved to you that he knew. The way he slightly puffed his cheeks when he got slighted always gave you an urge to poke them.
So you did. Mammon bristled and tried inclining his head from your touch, but it didn't work.
"So what now?"
"Huh?"
"Compensation because you owe me for helping you? I can keep the leftover amount of Grimm that you don't need. Or your can choose to do something to show gratitude. Or something."
“I guess I do owe ya for springin’ all of this on ya so suddenly. How much, uh, did ya end up gettin’, anyway?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
You nudged a knee in-between Mammon’s legs and leaned against him. Hesitant for only a second, Mammon brought his hands around your back to hold you, his fingers flirting with going underneath the fabric of your shirt. It was obvious what you were hinting at, and it was obvious he knew it. You kissed him first, and he kissed you back. The kisses quickly built up into hot and fervent messes, passionate and mindless. Mammon pressed you more towards him, reversing the situation and saddling you on his knee while he supported the both of you by leaning against the wall behind him. The sensation of his knee only stirred you further on. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you slowly began to rock yourself. Sexual desire throbbed where friction was rubbing, and sense of awareness got lost in the fog of the lust. You felt a pressure on your backside as Mammon forced you harder against his leg. Tingles went up your back when he hit the right spot.
The moment was interrupted when a couple of gasps and surprised chuckling startled the both of you back to the moment of where you were. You felt embarrassment heat your face as you hid it into the fabric of Mammon's shirt, the shock of people seeing you humping him acted like a bucket of cold water. It was annoying as fuck that it had ruined the momentum, though. Still, this was a public area, and despite how horny winning made you, you had to at least make it to his car before going any further, as frustrating as that was. You raised your head to see the shame you felt completely exposed on Mammon as he covered his discomfort and awkwardness with his fingers, his eyes fixed hard on something other than you. An awkward smile lifted you lips as you stepped away from him, grabbing his hand as you did, and you pulled him along to the entrance of the building to leave.
“How about we spend the night somewhere? It’ll be my treat.”