#i finished it like 3am-4am so if the speech is way too like choppy or something ill fix it LKSJDFH

[luci-four]

Would it be alright to request Mammon fluff with a little bit of sad :'^)? I really loved your Satan piece and I'd like to see what you do with Mammoney!

A/N: hey thanks for being patient!! i had a monster essay to deal with so I went a lil mia lmao; hope you like it!!! its a little long so it’ll be under the cut!!

Sunflower. {Mammon x Reader/MC}

A lot of things had constantly been just out of reach for Mammon—his freedom to live on his own, that one “A” he could’ve gotten on that test if he didn’t second guess his answers, literally every opportunity he had missed to make quick cash without much work—yet, none of them seemed to make a lasting impression. It sucked, sure, but Mammon had resigned himself to the idea that those things were simply just nice dreams that he could either try and attempt again, or would be okay living without.

One thing in particular, however, had just barely grazed his fingertips as he reached out as far as possible, feeling the muscle in his shoulder stretch as far as it could, his body desperately moving to catch even the smallest part of them—only for the thing he desired most to slip from his grasp; Now, that was the one that hurt.

And it continued to hurt.

Time and time again, he’d find his shoulder sore as though he had desperately reached for the sun despite never doing such a thing; He’d rub the muscle, wincing when he found a particularly tender spot, and mindlessly work to fix whatever the problem may have been. He never seemed to notice it tense up whenever his eyes landed on MC.

The tightness in his shoulders always seemed to linger heavily whenever he spoke to them; Was it from the words he neglected to say? Or perhaps it was stress from patting himself on the shoulder, expressing his greatness and exaggerating his emphasis to impress them? Maybe it was from the feelings for them he refused to take notice of and continued to deny their existence. Maybe it was the weight of his sins sitting on his shoulder, he was in Devildom, after all.

Smiles were the superficial cure for his muscle pain—their smile was constantly so bright that he didn’t need to reach for it, it came to him instead. The sound of their voice always danced its way to his ears. He needed only to reach a little bit whenever they needed him, he could easily sense their emotions.

His hand, whether he wanted it to be or not, had always extended towards MC; Why didn’t they hold theirs out back to him?

His own laugh started to irritate him, ignorant and egotistic. He knew the only reason he laughed a little harder, a little louder, was to drown out the sounds of anyone else speaking with MC. Had he become attached? No, not at all—not that he’d tell anybody outright. Mammon would do what he could to make sure they felt alright, made sure he was by their side, and definitely made sure no one, including his brothers, made a move that MC would regret. Anger, jealousy, insecurity, defeat—everything had found itself coated in childish praises only he could give himself. It was no wonder MC never reached back for him—he wouldn’t reach for himself, either.

There was no surprise when his brothers started to take to MC as well—jealousy, you bet—but no surprise. Why wouldn’t they? MC shines no matter what they do, even when they aren’t realizing it. Maybe he just thought their soul was pretty, shiny—like a diamond—maybe it was just his unquenchable greed that drew him to them, to their soul, and that’s all it was. Of course! He was the Great Mammon after all; No human would do him in otherwise… or so he told himself. The proud smile of his dropped fairly easy the moment they turned around.  

Truth is, he was terrified. He felt like a child trying to cling to their mother, one who cried the moment they found themselves alone with no sense of time to tell just how long they had been lonely. He felt so weak, so pathetic, so annoyed with the very idea that he wanted—needed—them around. He talks so big, so how can he feel so small?

He’s microscopic sitting beside MC as they focus their attention on Levi ramble on about some new nerd game of his. He’s tiny as they look over a new book Satan discovered while the language was something far too foreign for him to comprehend. He’s puny as he stands in the doorway to their room while Asmo goes on and on about something he couldn’t catch because all he could focus on was the way his brother’s hands danced across every part of MC he could get them on. He’s pathetic standing behind them during any interaction with Lucifer.

MC never seems to mind having him around, but what if it was just to be nice? What if they didn’t care whether he stayed or left? They were the sun and he was simply the sunflower, begging, pleading, reaching for their warmth—but reaching for so long hurt. He wasn’t sure if he should try to reach anymore.

They had some sort of conversation with the others, something about plans to go out that evening—not that he could join them, anyway. He’d come up with some bullshit excuse about some get-rich-quick scheme he’d come up with once again, just to avoid seeing how brightly his brothers can make MC shine. They looked happy—excited, even—to go out with everyone; He never felt more stupid in his life, and he had to admit that that feeling alone said a lot.

From behind his closed door, he could hear all of them bustling about, laughing, talking, getting ready for… whatever they had planned, he decided it was better not to know. He threw himself onto his couch, holding a pillow against his head to try and drown out the sounds of happiness just beyond the door; The pillow was also to drown out the sound of his short, frustrated screech.

“This is bullshit!” He cried through the pillow to his empty room, “Bullshit!”

He kicked his feet around like a child, tossing and turning from side to side as he let out strangled sounds of anger.

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” He punched the pieces of couch at his sides, “Who needs them anyway? If MC wants to go hang out with everyone else then who cares? I don’t care!”

“Because you’re the Great Mammon?”

The sudden voice shocked him; Mammon fell to the floor and looked up to find MC leaning over the back of his couch—their stare made his face heat up quickly.

“Y…yeah, ya know it! Exactly!”

“So, I didn’t watch you just throw an entire temper-tantrum?”

“What? Of course not!”

“Uh-huh,” they drew out, “sure, alright.”

Mammon bit the inside of his cheek, eyes darting around the room; He thought it was inconspicuous, but MC could read right through him. Ridiculous—of course MC had to witness it! They saw him crack, break, throw a fit, of course they aren’t going to want him now; He felt so… insignificant the longer he soaked in his embarrassment.

“…you stayed?” he whispered with a shaky breath.

The silent pause killed him. It was like being stabbed with an entire pitchfork, over and over again; The pause lasted only seconds, but it was enough to make Mammon feel as though he were going to burst.

“N-not that I care!” he blurted out. “’Cause why would I care? I don’t care–”

“Of course I stayed.”

His eyes snapped back to theirs, an unreadable expression on their face. What did that mean? ‘Of course I stayed,’ their words just kept echoing in his head until they spoke again to break his trance.

“I mean,” their lips finally broke out into that burning smile Mammon loved so much, “how was I supposed to have any fun without you?”

Mammon’s body grew numb from shock as MC leaned over the back of the couch as far as possible, stretching their arm out to what looked to be an uncomfortably far length just to reach him; It looked painful. Sharp intake of breath, examine their hand—he could finally see past the beams of light to see the most delicate hand reaching back out for him, and he didn’t hesitate to take it.

“Psh, duh,” he hoped his hand wasn’t sweaty as he tugged on theirs to pull himself up, “I’m literally the life of the party. I’m–”

“The Great Mammon, yes, we know.” They let out a heartwarming giggle, “We’ll just have to have our own little party.”

“Maybe… a movie?” He sat back on the couch, never letting so much as a thought of letting their hand go pass his mind, “A party animal like me gets tired too, ya know.”

“Mmm, good idea. Only if we watch something scary.”

“What!”

“What? It’s a good excuse to keep holding your hand.”

Mammon had nearly choked on his own spit at the very idea that those words had left their mouth—hearing them made him actually choke. His face grew dark, he had to turn it away from them to hide just how much he loved what he heard.

Sunflowers always faced, begged, longed for the sun, but no one ever warned them about just how warm it was going to be when the sun looked back.

“What’s gotten into you? Cut it out.”

He no longer had to reach far, as MC’s hand had finally met his, and he didn’t plan on letting it go any time soon.

He didn’t even realize how the pain in his shoulder had disappeared the moment their head laid upon it.