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yeehawbvby · 3 months ago

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Falling Away With You | Ch. 52*

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Spirit’s Eve shenanigans interlude - Sebastian WRECKS ya lol

Author’s Note: Got this one out WAY earlier than anticipated. My brainrot is too powerful..

Table of Contents + Work Summary

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When I return to Seb’s, Robin’s at the counter, unlike earlier. Looks like she’s doing some sorta till-counting or something, given how she’s hunched near the open register and vigorously scribbling into a notepad.

She’s in her costume while she does it. Considering it’s a crappy, plasticky getup from a chain store, she makes a hot Morticia Addams, god damn Robin!

“Getting some last minute work in?” I ask, taking my usual stance with my elbows upon the opposite side of the wood.

“Something like that,” she murmurs. Sounds stressed.

“Well… you look great, at least!”

She huffs out a bitter laugh, then says under her breath, “Oh yeah? Tell that to my husband.”

Oooh, is that why she’s moody? I’ll kick his ass! I’ll fuck him up!

…No I won’t.

But still, what the fuck?

A little taken aback, and unsure if it’s my place to say anything bad about that dipshit to her, I opt to offer support. “Whoa, everything okay?”

She still hasn’t met my eyes, but she does roll hers. “That di—“ She stops herself. “He—“ She takes a deep breath, her lids shutting. Looks like she’s trying to regroup.

“…You can totally call him a dick, if that’s what you were gonna do,” I offer, resting my chin on my knuckles.

Robin laughs a little more genuinely this time. “Eh. Feels weird to complain to my son’s girlfriend about my marital issues.” She looks up at me, her eyes a little glazed over, before they widen. She blinks and raises her brows, taken aback by my appearance. “Oh. Oh wow!” Then, she leans in and whispers, “You did this with magic?!”

Beaming, I nod.

“That’s amazing! You’re kind of like one of those characters from those games Sebby plays.”

“I had to get inspiration somewhere,” I quip with some finger guns.

“Dork.”

“You love me though.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she reluctantly agrees, scruffing my hair.

I scowl, and then as I fix it, I jump back to the previous topic. “You know, you can talk to me about anything. If you want.” This time I rest the heel of my palm against my chin. “As a friend, not just as your son’s girlfriend, or a customer, or whatever.”

After inspecting me for a moment, Robin smiles. “I’m glad Sebastian fell in love with such a sweetheart, y’know that?”

I’m cheesing hard, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, but I feign anger anyway. “What’d I just say? I’m your friend right now! Forget that guy!”

She barks out a laugh and throws her palms up in defeat. She fixes some hair from her wig out of her face as she goes on, zoned out on the desk between us, “I’m… ugh.” Another sigh. “Demetrius is just upset that I don’t want him locked in that lab tonight. God forbid he spends some time with his family during a holiday.”

She pauses, looks at me again, and her eyes are threatening to tear up. I can’t help the way my own mouth melts downward as she quickly darts her view away from me.

“He couldn’t care less about our costumes.”

The woman sniffs and tries to hide her face. I scurry around to the other side of the counter — she looks like she could use a hug. When I silently open my arms she laughs wetly and accepts.

Over my shoulder, she murmurs, “I just thought it could be fun to match, ya know? To act like a happy married couple, for a change. It’s like he doesn’t even want to be around me outside of our Friday saloon dates though.”

I’m not really sure what to say. My heart is telling me to shout “Dump his ass!!!” but I know that would be inappropriate.

I wind up trying to lighten the situation in lieu of consolation. “Y’wanna know what I think?” I ask, pulling away and clapping my hands over her shoulders.

“Please, share your wisdom, wise wizard.”

I giggle at that. Then, still smiling, “He’s a real dickhead.”

“(Y/n)!” Robin exclaims, albeit through her own giggles. She weakly swats at me.

“He is! The more I hear about him, the more I think he deserves a nice ol’,” and I pull back some more, punching at the air, with my cheeks puffed and brows slanted downward.

Still laughing, she leans on the surface next to her. “Simmer down, Rocky,” she tells me, resting her temple on her palm.

I join her in leaning on the counter again. “Okay, in all seriousness, though... You deserve to be happy. Whether he wants to play along for the night or not.” After a quiet beat, I add “…What if I’m Gomez?”

Robin shoots me an amused, incredulous look. “What?”

“If Demetrius won’t be your Gomez then I will!” I declare with a nod. “Just bring the mustache with you later, if he won’t wear it. I’ll gladly slap it on.”

She shakes her head. The way her grin hasn’t left her face makes me smile right back.

God. Seb really does have her smile. It warms my heart a ton to see it from the source.

“C’mere, you little weirdo.”

Robin pulls me back into another hug. Still feeling silly, I tell her that I’m serious. I am, I’ll do it! She promptly and playfully pushes me off her.

“Alright, get outta here.”

“Think about it!” I advise, tapping my head as I walk away.

“Oh my god.”

Well.

There we go!

I think I helped..?

I hope I helped.

Robin’s usually so strong, and independent, and full of sass and kindness and goofiness all in one package. It’s hard seeing someone I look up to so much so… broken. Especially over some dumb asshole like Demetrius.

I softly rap on Seb’s door, then enter without an answer, assuming he’s still asleep. And he is — there are soft snores coming from a mound of blankets on his bed.

I pad over to him and sit down, placing a hand on his shoulder.

I get real close and whisper, “Time to get up, baby,” near his ear.

He shifts a little and sighs. His eyes open. They stay squinty as he blinks the sleep away.

Oh. That was easy. “I thought there would be more protest than this.”

Seb sniffs and stretches, rolling his neck a bit. It pops, and he follows with rolling his shoulders too, which also pop.

“The way y’whispered at me was so hot,” he explains. I ignore the flip my stomach does hearing him say that with his groggy rasp. “Got me right up.”

Is he bonin’ out already? “Figuratively or..?”

He turns to face me finally, a shitty little grin pairing an eyebrow waggle. It quickly morphs into a gleaming smile though, his eyes darkening above it as he takes in my disguise for the day. “Oh you’re fuckin’ kidding me.”

I chew the bottom half of my smile as my face warms right up. “Still a fan?”

He scoffs, “‘Still a fan,’” mirroring my words back at me while he tugs me into his lap. I squeak, not expecting this energy from Seb right now, but he quickly muffles it with a heated kiss.

His fingers dig into my hips before he brings his hands up to cup my face. “Of course I’m still a fan,” he breathes between kisses, “you have no idea.”

I grin into his lips, pulling away just enough to murmur, “I think I have a little bit of an idea.” As I speak, I roll my hips, effectively trailing my clothed slit against his erection.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he groans, flipping us so that he’s on top of me, slotted between my legs.

One of his hands is grounded on the pillow by my head; the other is plastered to my cheek as if it’ll fall off otherwise. In the meantime, I wrap my legs around his waist, heady exhales escaping through my nose as he grinds himself against me. I try to match his energy, tangling my fingers through his hair while I tug his face closer to mine.

“What time was it when you got down here?”

“Dunno, I—“ he lightly thrusts again, cutting me off as I curse against his lips, “Fuck.” I grin into a kiss and then continue, doing my best to ignore his active lower half, “Last I checked,” another kiss, “it was 7ish,” another, “Probably got here like 15 minutes ago.” Another kiss, and another roll, prompting us to moan against each other. “Maybe 20,” I breathe.

“Damn it.” Seb presses his forehead to mine, his eyes shut. “How about this?” he states more than asks.

“Hm?”

“I’m gonna take a quick shower.”

“Mhm,” I have to hum, because he paused to kiss me again.

“Then I’ll get ready, y’know, do my hair and all that.”

Kiss.

“‘Kay.”

Kiss.

“And then,” he pauses for another kiss while his fingertips drag to the side of my neck. His thumb trails my jaw and finds residence on my chin, its tip touching the underside of my bottom lip, in the meantime. “I’m gonna make you cum all over my cock,” kiss, “alright?”

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

I nod.

Kiss.

“Sound good?”

“Yeah,” I practically moan.

Kiss.

“Yeah? You’d like that?”

I nod, kissing his smug grin.

He reciprocates the action, and then tugs my chin down to give himself entry. I whine at the gesture while his tongue twirls around my own.

…And then he pulls away, gives me an all too friendly smile and pat on the cheek, and gets up, sauntering to the bathroom.

I can’t help but laugh.

_______________

Seb did his hair straight out of the shower — it’s no different than usual — but came out for help with makeup.

“Honestly, I thought you were half-sleeping when I suggested this,” I mutter while giving him the best smokey eye I can manage with red and black.

It’s hard working with eyes that aren’t my own. Also hard not to overdo it. Something about eyeshadow just makes me wanna keep coloring everything in…

“I was,” he confirms. “Only half, though.”

From my seat atop him, I lean over to put the eyeshadow down and grab his liner stick. It’s hard not to feel a little restless in this position. Dude’s in nothing but boxer briefs. Didn’t want to risk smudging anything onto his white shirt, and didn’t feel like getting into dress pants just yet. Every little movement is like a taste of what’s to come after this, if he’s still up for it.

Yoba, I hope he’s up for it.

Instrument in hand, I tilt his head gently by the chin for a better view. He closes his eyes before I have to ask, so I move my non-dominant hand to his cheek and get to work carefully lining a lid.

“Didn’t you say when we first met that you used to wear eyeliner?”

He grins, and I have to pause so as to not smudge anything too badly. When he feels that I stopped, he opens his eyes. Those deep blueish irises have an extra sparkle to them. His cheeks heat up a little too, and I can see hints of a blush growing on them.

“Yeah, I’m a bit rusty— wait, you actually remember that?”

I pull a face. “‘Course I do,” I respond, before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You made that night fun… made me feel safe and welcome after having to endure that thorough grilling from Abby.” I blush as I tack on, at the risk of being a sap, “It’s a really special memory for me.”

Barely containing his pearly whites, he goes on, “She went in on you.”

He shuts his eyes for me again after seeing that I’ve returned my focus to his makeup. I begin working on the other one, satisfied with my work on the first after a quick swipe just beneath his waterline.

“I’d probably have cried if it weren’t for all the beer.”

“Imagine,” he huffs out a laugh. “All the moms probably wouldn’t shut up about you.”

I toss Seb’s pencil aside and get to work smudging it with my fingertip a bit. Looks too neat. “Y’hear about that new girl?” I jest in something akin to Jodi’s cadence. “Sensitive thing, she is. She won’t last a day on that farm.” I pull back a bit and take Seb’s face in my hands, inspecting my work on his eyes while we laugh.

“Oh, and don’t even get me started on that little skirt she was wearing,” he plays along.

“Ha!” I break. “That skirt isn’t that little.”

“It’s little enough that it had me thinking.”

“Thinking?” I tilt my head.

He winks. “Thinking.”

Oh! My heart flutters because of course it does. I nuzzle my forehead against his and squeeze my eyes shut to stim away the fluster; he giggles, and then, simmering down, I ask, “You want some mascara?”

“Maybe a bit on the bottom row.”

“Oh, you’re gonna look downright slutty.”

“I’m not hearing a problem with that.”

“Neither am I,” I quip, being careful not to make them too tidy. Gotta make sure to clump some lashes up more than others too…

That should do it.

I lean back to scan his face again. “Lipstick?”

“Maybe some black on the top lip? And some red… somewhere near my mouth, I dunno. Fake blood and all that.”

I nod, but lean in for a kiss instead of doing it. He happily reciprocates. “Not yet,” I purr against him. “You have a promise to fulfill.”

He grins, wide and catlike, and hungrily chases my lips. “Don’t wanna sloppy it up?”

“And let my hard work go to waste?” I tease. My voice comes out airy, and my breath quickens as he pulls my chest to his.

“But maybe I like it sloppy.”

Ignoring the implications, I subtly roast, “Bold words for someone who didn’t wanna dirty his shirt.”

“Oh shut up,” he laughs before smashing his mouth to mine again. Pulls away, gnaws his lower lip... “I have an idea, actually.”

“Hm?”

He picks up some red lipstick and hands it to me. I tilt my head in question.

“Slap it on me.”

I snort. “Where are you going with this?” I ask while I follow his instruction.

As soon as I’m done, he pulls me in for more kisses. Sloppy kisses. The kind that can make me moan, whether it’s from being flustered, or from the kisses themselves — and they do.

Seb smiles against me before kissing me some more. Then, he pulls away. He laughs at the resulting makeup on my face.

“Oh, you look adorable.”

“How bad is it?” I ask, bringing a finger to my mouth.

When I pull the digit away it has a red tinge to it; hard to gauge how dark it would actually look on my face until I see it, with my skin being pink in my disguise, and this room so dim.

“You tell me,” he asks, more about himself. He does a quick mouth wiggle while puckering.

“You’re looking pretty wrecked.”

“Pretty bloody?”

“Ooo, nice!” I beam.

“Can never tell me I’m not clever again.”

Laughing, I flick his nose. He reaches for a bite on my finger and I let him have it. “Never said you weren’t.”

“Damn right.” He pulls me back in, kissing me with a fervor I haven’t felt from him in a hot minute.

I wonder if it’s my… elfliness (sure, that’s a word). It’s gotta be that.

I’m not complaining.

With our lips locked, he begins lifting off my shirt, and I work on my pants in turn. There’s a few rows of buttons on ‘em but I get through it eventually.

Once my mouth is free, I think aloud, “I wonder what color my nips are, if my skin is already pink.”

I pause my work on my pants while he unclasps my bra. “Only one way to find out.” As it falls, we both laugh. “Fucking purple?”

“Hey, I think it works!” I lift my breast for closer inspection. It’s funny seeing a mauvy lavender there, as opposed to its usual color. It compliments my skin nicely though!

Next thing I know, I’m swallowing a hum as a result of Seb latching onto the same boob I’d been holding. He grabs my nipple between his teeth and lightly pulls away, making me whine. “It does work,” he agrees. Then, he delves into the other.

After a brief moment, he removes himself. “Pants off.”

I mumble, “Bossy...”

I stand up and do it anyway, though. I get rid of my panties too while I’m at it. Not like I’ll need them for this.

“Don’t pretend you don’t love being bossed around, y’little gremlin.”

He flips me around and pulls me back into his lap, but facing away from him now; nudges my legs open with his knees; and then, while planting wet kisses to my neck and shoulder, he drags a finger through my folds in a long, languid stroke. I don’t even have time to argue back.

I moan, rolling my head rest on Sebby’s shoulder behind me. Drinking in the feeling of his warm lips and breath on my skin, I arch instinctively while he creeps closer to my entrance. The hand that had been holding my hip wraps around my midsection in response, keeping me from moving too much, but not stopping me either.

“Jeez. So wet already,” he lilts.

“Yeah, well…” I trail off, not in the mindset to say anything clever back. I’m too foggy with want for that.

Seb seems to be having fun taking his damn time with me. He circles the opening, not quite giving me the satisfaction of entry, but still making me feel something. I squirm, antsy as he devolves me into a needy (well— need ier ), panting mess.

“Something wrong, love?” he mutters against my ear before lightly nipping at its pointy tip.

Smartass.

“N-no, nothing,” I lie.

“Good,” he teases, ��almost thought you were dissatisfied for a sec there.”

Damnit. I mean, I’m not, fucking obviously, but if he’d just go in…

I sigh, but it comes out as a huff, and turns into a whimper. My dominant arm has been raised, its hand toying with Sebastian’s hair this whole time. The other, which had been gripping the arm Seb’s holding me in place with, is now on its way to his active hand, in an attempt to urge him inside me.

As soon as my hand makes contact with his wrist, he retracts his fingers to the lower portion of my folds again.

He warns lowly, “Keep that hand to yourself.”

Oh he has no business being this hot, god damnit dude.

I heed his words with an embarrassing squeak, draping my arm across my tummy, just below his. His grip with that one tightens as he gets back to work drawing circles and stars around the rim of my cunt.

“Ahh— fuck,” I whimper, my hips moving on their own volition, “please.”

He softly asks, his lips against my earlobe, “What do you want?”

“Please,” I pause to moan as he barely — just barely — dips inside me, planting a kiss to my cheek just in front of my ear. “Need you.”

“You already have me, silly. Gotta be more specific than that.”

He peppers kisses around my neck while I struggle to find words to respond with. Just when I feel his tongue licking a strip across it, his thumb rests itself on my clit, unmoving.

My thighs tense and I squeeze the forearm that’s above my own, subconsciously tugging his hair a little too. “God.”

“Tell me,” he kisses my neck again, “tell me what you want from me, (y/n).”

“Fuck, I want you.” I urge, “I need you inside me, please— oh shit,” my body twitches as he slightly begins to wriggle his thumb. He’s still not fingerbanging me yet, the audacity, but this still feels fucking good. “God, please, Seb.”

“Still need more details.” Oh my fucking— he’s trying to kill me. He wants me dead. “What part of me do you want inside you?”

Anything, frankly. “Y-your fingers,” I stutter instead, shuddering as he presses my bud a little harder.

“Yeah?”

I mewl, “Yeah.” He grants my wish, but not enough. Slides his ring and middle fingers maybe an inch in, at most. I could fucking cry. “Ff— god damnit.”

“I thought you wanted this?”

I’ll fucking kill you bro— “Deeper,” I breathe, ignoring how desperate I sound; how tantalizingly he’s wiggling his digits.

“This better?” he asks smoothly, and begins to pump the full length of his fingers in and out of me.

My head lolls back and tears fall from my eyes in relief. He moves absurdly slow as he begins to curl the pads of his fingers against me, but it’s better than everything else he’s done to cause me to crumble like this. “Fuck, yes~”

He removes his arm from my belly and turns my head to him. Without moving my lower body, I twist so that I can comply better, resting a palm beside us on the mattress. My other reaches for his face while I try to kiss him — and he gets close, but ultimately doesn’t budge.

I chase his lips, humming through the pleasure, then groaning when he doesn’t work with me. He smiles knowingly.

I deadpan, “Oh my fucking god.” Or, at least I do to the best of my ability while he’s got knuckles buried in me.

“You want more?”

“Please,” I nod. My forehead is against his as I shut my eyes, subtly shifting myself down so that he’ll go deeper. He responds in kind, pumping and curling against the perfect spot. “Ah!”

“Better?”

I nod again. Try for another kiss. He doesn’t let me again. Ugh. “Please, please,” I whisper. Comes out embarrassingly needy.

As if all my other pleas haven’t been.

“What else do you want?”

My eyes don’t leave his lips. They look destroyed, between the natural plumpness of us having kissed so much, and the lipstick that’s smeared around them.

It’s so hot.

“Kiss me, please kiss me.”

He leans in… and pecks the corner of my mouth.

I grunt between my teeth. “Please just fucking kiss me, oh my g—“ Smiling, Sebastian shuts me up with an actual kiss.

He pokes fun at me after, “So easy…”

“Shut up— fuck, more.”

“Like this?” he asks, speeding up his digits’ pace as he kisses me again, our tongues tangling together while he swallows my moans.

I nod, but then I realize we’re running out of time. As good as this is — and holy fucking moly it’s amazing, I actually adore when he’s a devious little shit like this — I need him to just screw me senseless so I can recouperate before having to go face the entire town and whoever else shows up.

I gasp out of the kiss, “Fuck me.”

“Aw,” he tuts, “this isn’t good enough?”

“Sh— ah, shut up!”

He laughs. “You want me to stop this then?”

Well… No…

But I nod.

“Please, fuck, I wanna cum with you, not like this.”

God, I sound pathetic. But this is urgent. I’m getting so close.

His smile widens. I finally meet his eyes, after having stared at the lower half of his face for so long. His pupils are blown wide — practically to the rims of his irises.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” I can feel myself tightening. I’m doing my best to stave it off, but… “Fuck, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing this.”

“You think you can cum twice for me then?”

“Shit.” Don’t have to twist my arm. “‘Kay.”

“Yeah? You want that?”

I nod eagerly. Desperately.

He gets close enough that our lips are pressing together a bit, but he doesn’t kiss me. “Then cum.” Oh my god. “Cum on my fingers, baby,” fucking hell, “let me feel your tight pussy cumming onto my hand.”

Oh my fucking god.

A soundless cry escapes me and I nod, promptly delivering. “Seb, shit, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,“ I desperately babble, my release hitting me like a train. I close my eyes and lean onto his shoulder, initially clamping a hand over my mouth to quiet myself. Seb maneuvers me into a kiss instead.

When he’s finished me off, Seb removes his fingers from my cunt and brings the afflicted hand close to our jaws. He backs away from our kiss with just enough space to slide his wet digits between our faces; to hold them just in front of my mouth, waiting patiently but expectantly.

Beguiled beyond belief, I don’t let my gaze waver from his as I wrap my lips around his fingers. I suck myself off of him, teasing him with my tongue as I do, and then seal the action with another kiss, all but leading in with my tongue.

He groans at the taste. It’s all he needed to give up any bit of restraint he had before.

“Fuck. Grab onto me,” he softly orders.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and he flips me onto my back, sliding his underwear off in tandem. He promptly dips just his head inside me, and proceeds to use a combination of my folds and his fingers to spread my fluids onto himself, getting his dick lubed up.

I shiver at the sensation, but only for a few seconds before he inches his length inside me.

“Oh, shit.” We literally moan the words in unison. Makes us both break from our trances.

“Oh no.“

“I dunno how I felt about that.”

“Hated it, personally.” I admit, though, “…But also it was kinda hot?”

Gnawing his lower lip, Seb nods in agreement.

We’re both still giggling about the occurrence when he resumes the activity, harshly thrusting into me. Morphing my laughter into a happy lil’ moan.

“Fuck, you always feel so good.” Seb lowers himself a bit, dropping my legs in favor of holding my face in one hand and gripping the sheets in the other. “So fucking perfect.”

I feel my belly do a flip at his words while I drink in his praise, committing to memory the way he’s looking at me as if I’m the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. I reach my hands to the sides of his neck and tug lightly in hopes he’ll come down for a kiss. Instead, he settles above me, hovering his lips right in front of mine.

I see that’s his theme for today. Jackass…

I moan into his mouth while he pants into mine. Our gazes haven’t faltered from each other’s; the eye contact is making me feel shy, but I can’t look away.

“Fuck,” I mewl after a harsher thrust, “do that again?”

“This?” Seb repeats the action, and I nod, feeling my eyelids flutter. I don’t dare to shut them though. “You like that?”

“I love it,” I nod, “I love you,” I pause to swallow a cry, worried about the volume, before repeating, “I love you so much, you’re so fucking good.”

“Me, or my dick?” he pokes back. His face looks extra cocky, too.

I laugh, rolling my eyes. “Both, fuck I love your cock.”

“Oh, holy fuck,” he half-moans, half-laughs. Not the first time I’ve said that, glad it still affects him. He rolls his eyes shut and presses his forehead to mine. “How much, princess?” he asks as he opens them again, his fiery stare boring into mine.

The nickname surges through me, making my skin prickle with goosebumps. “So much, you’re—“

I promptly zip it and slap a palm over my mouth as someone knocks on the door. Sebastian puts one of his over the back of my hand for good measure.

Shit.

“Sebby?” Robin’s voice calls through. “We’re just about ready to go.”

Shit!

He hasn’t stopped thrusting. Just slowed down. I grip his wrist with my free hand and squeeze — a safety measure to make sure I really won’t make noise and fuck this up for everyone, because Yoba above it’s hard not to.

Hopefully she hasn’t heard it up to this point… “We’ll be ready in a few minutes,” he says back, “Just finishing up my costume.”

“Gotcha, gotcha. Need any help?”

“No,” he answers all too quickly. He recoups, “No, it’s fine, (y/n)’s got me covered. We’ll meet you guys outside.”

“Alrighty, try to hurry up. We’re already running a little late.”

He answers while simultaneously placing a sneaky finger to my clit, “You got it, Ma.”

Oh my god. I shut my eyes and try to breathe steady, listening to her footsteps fade away. It’s hard to be this quiet with this much stimulation.

Seb’s vision is still angled towards the door while he waits too. When it returns to me — when he sees my eyes, specifically, and how filled with want they probably look — he whispers out a half curse, stopping himself so he can keep listening.

As soon as we hear the front door upstairs shut, he removes both our hands from my mouth and kisses me.

“You close?” he whispers.

I shrug. “Might need some encouragement.”

“Yeah? You need me to tell you when to cum?”

Oh, that’s definitely encouraging. God he’s so hot.

“Mhm,” I hum. “Just tell me what to do.”

He smiles. It almost looks a bit sinister… damn, and he called me a freak. Seb straightens his back, tugging me closer by the thighs before pumping into me with more force. “Let me see you touch yourself.”

Oh.

I release one of my fists from its recent death grip on his sheets and place two fingers against my folds, trying to strum to the rhythm of his hips.

“There you go,” he praises, leaning down with a straight arm supporting himself. The other cups my cheek, its thumb playing with my lips. “Help me out,” he murmurs, “get yourself real close for me.” I whine at his words, and my pussy clenches around him. He laughs, but it isn’t smug or demeaning. Just smitten. “That’s it, baby. Juuust like that.”

Fuck, this is working out flawlessly.

“I’m close,” I tell him, my voice barely even there, “m’gonna cum.”

“Atta girl.” I feel him twitch inside me. “Fuck. You wanna cum together, yeah?”

I nod, subtly speeding up my fingers.

“Come on then, (y/n), cum with me. Keep those pretty eyes on me and cum.”

Seb’s kind enough to give me a bit of a head start. Just as I start to crumble, I feel him joining me, nearly pressing his forehead against my own. His eyes roll shut for a moment before locking back onto mine below thick, upturned eyebrows.

“Shit, that’s my good girl,” he smiles through his own pleasure.

“Holy fuck,” I breathe, shakey and winded.

He soothes me through to the end, “That’s it, baby, nice and easy.”

I swear to god he’s so good at that; at just flipping a switch, and suddenly knowing exactly what to say and do. That alone should be its own weird subgenre of wizardry.

I shut my weary eyes, and for a few beats we just stay where we are, huffing each other’s air. When I open my eyes, I notice a hint of determination in Seb’s.

Right.

We’ve gotta get cleaned up and finish his look. Fast .

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yeehawbvby · 10 months ago

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Falling Away With You | Ch. 48

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Y/n goes a little apeshit at JojaMart lmao

Author’s Note: *Crawls out of a pit covered in dirt and blood. Slaps this chapter down in front of you, on a SUNDAY no less!*

My health situation hasn’t improved whatsoever, but I will prevail, damnit!!

I wrote most of this and posted to ao3 early this morning, and haven't had a chance to proofread really. I'll do my best to get that done soon ^.^ Sorry if there are any weird wordings. Also sorry for the complete lack of Seb and Magnus in this one, I hope the shenanigans make up for it <3

Table of Contents + Work Summary

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I hate that stupid, cryptic, blue note I got.

Ever since it came, I think about it every time I check the mailbox, without fail. I don’t want to, I kinda just want to forget it exists, but I just… I dunno. I have a bad feeling about it. A gut feeling. Like, something’s totally up with it. It’s just been sitting in my closet for safekeeping until I decide what to do, though.

For some reason, I’ve been too nervous to bring it back up to Magnus. He’s forgotten it exists, from what I can tell. I think I’ll do my best to keep it that way for now. It feels more like my burden to bear than his, and besides, he’s already got the whole region to take care of.

After today’s confirmation that I don’t have bills or anything important like that, I head inside to get ready to leave the farm. Reeeally hoping my routine will shake out my heebiejeebies.

I got the OK from Magnus to use his fancy shrine for Spirit’s Eve. Got an idea of what I think I want to make myself look like, too. Maybe a tiefling or something. If tieflings don’t really exist, I’m sure some sort of succubi, or imps, or some sort of creature that looks like one’s gotta, no? I suppose I could always fall back on just pretending I’m an elf… man, a tail and horns would be so fun though.

Either way, tomorrow is the big day and I am so ready for it.

I mean, like, almost ready. Whatever.

Today I’m going to Magnus’ place to get some practice in. Just a precautionary measure to try not to, like, blow myself up or something.

I’m gonna keep my outfit cozy and easy to move around in, but I have half a mind to make sure I wouldn’t mind losing these clothes in particular if something goes wrong with the transformation. Just some leggings, some crew-cut socks, an old hoodie, and my favorite boots, since I won’t have my shoes on in the shrine anyway. All of it is in black. Sebastian cosplay.

I’ll pop my red studs in too, gotta commit to the bit. I haven’t had time to talk to The Emo and see if he actually did get his shit pierced last night, but assuming he did, and assuming he was able to use these for it, I wanna go all out, baby.

Now, before I head to the tower, I’ve got some errands to run around town. I woke up a bit late so there’s gonna be more people out than I’m looking forward to, but hopefully I have no creepy Alex encounters or awkward conversations with Shane again.

I promised Sam I’d visit him at work sometime soon, so I might as well head there first. He hates it there, and it’s been a while since we’ve caught up, so I’ll hopefully be a welcome distraction. I’ll bring him a coffee too to keep his spirits high.

After it’s done brewing, I grab two foam cups and pour the coffee in. Knowing Sam, he probably needs this stuff sweet, and I’m in the mood for sweet too, so I pour in a bunch of vanilla-flavored creamer. To make the beverages ~gourmet,~ I add a little whipped cream to each, as well as a light drizzle of chocolate syrup. After securing the plastic lids and giving Cannoli some well-deserved love, I head out.

While I pass by the bus stop, I make eye contact with Pam. I’ve never spoken to her, but… I dunno. I can’t tell if I like her or not. She gives me a nasty stink eye and I can only further assume she’s as mean as she outwardly appears. Unless she was just cursed with an intense resting bitch face...

I smile Pam’s way anyway. She doesn’t smile back, but that’s okay. It doesn’t benefit anyone to be so judgemental of her.

I pass a few local moms once I make it to the town square. None really mind me, which could mean they either didn’t notice, or they don’t care. Either is fine by me. I don’t hear what they’re saying, but Caroline talks very animatedly just before the rest of the group bursts into laughter.

I turn my attention back ahead as I pass by Pierre’s and nearly bump into Marnie as she’s leaving the shop.

We both squeak out a little “Oh!” before apologizing in unison.

“I wasn’t really paying attention,” I double down.

“Oh, that’s fine. I rarely ever am!” She then motions to the two cups in my hands and adds, laughing, “At least the coffee’s safe!”

I awkwardly nod in agreement. Then, a brief flash of myself actually spilling coffee somewhere down the road raids my mind, my necklace tingling against my skin and my fingers practically buzzing.

Great.

“Everything alright, sweetie?”

That probably looked weird. “Yeah, sorry,” I try to recover, “just sleepy today!”

I take a sip of coffee to emphasize my point. Plus, I might as well drink what I can before these puppies go down. Hopefully I’ll be able to save at least one of them when the time comes.

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that!” She puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I need to get back to the shop, but take it easy and don’t overwork yourself, you hear?”

I nod, thanking her and waving her off with a shy grin before I continue moving. Once I get closer to the spot I’m supposed to be spilling these drinks — just before that little bridge over the river by JojaMart — I begin to walk more cautiously. If I can just keep these steady and focus on the ground…

A sneeze creeps up on me. Oh god. Oh god oh fuck oh no.

Just as I’m beginning to carefully place one of the cups on the side of the bridge for safe keeping, the sneeze forces its way out of me. Luckily, one beverage — the one I hadn’t drank from yet — stays safely in my hand. Unluckily, the one I was working on trying to keep safe fell to the stones at my feet, opening up and dispersing its contents fucking everywhere.

God damnit.

“Nice one.”

God fucking damnit.

I look up to the voice. It turns out Shane’s outside having a smoke. He’s at the opposite end of the bridge watching my clumsiness unfold with an aloof look about him. He’s bent over to lean on the stone wall, his right elbow propped up and his corresponding cheek in his palm. His left forearm is flat against the structure while his left hand lazily dangles his cigarette between two fingers.

Is that pink nail polish on one of them? I wonder if that’s Jas’ doing.

I merely groan back my response, picking up the now-empty cup to discard in the trash bin near the store. As I proceed on my walk of shame past Shane, I point out, “At least my clothes stayed safe.”

Shane follows and asks, “How many ants do you think you murdered with that accident?”

I grin a little at his dry humor. “Oh it was a massacre,” I bounce back. “The war in Gotoro pales in comparison.”

“Ha!” Oh my god, I made Shane — the grumpiest fuck I’ve ever met — laugh?! “Right on. Seems like pointless violence anyway.”

I turn to see if I can catch him smiling for the first time, like, ever. It’s not there anymore, but there’s a residual brightness in his features.

Shane snuffs out his cig on the ashtray built into the garbage’s lid, abandoning it there before shoving his hands in the pockets of his bright blue shorts.

“Those sons’a bitches,” he nods in the direction of my carnage, “they had it coming.”

My nose scrunches as I laugh a little, giving him a funny look. “Damn, what’d they do to you?”

There’s a playful glint in his eye, as he deadpans me. “Exist.”

I shrug and nod — I get it, they can be pretty annoying! — and follow the man as he makes his way through the white-rimmed, glass-centered automatic doors. I try not to cringe outwardly at how many self-righteous pro-Joja fliers are on them.

Shane stops a few steps into the store. Turns around. I stop too and look up, tilting my head. What’re you looking at, punk? I think to myself. Dunno if I’d be pushing my limits by trying to say it out loud. Better not.

Shane gives me a weird look too, but I can barely see it. My senses are taking their damn time getting used to the obnoxiously fluorescent lighting.

“Don’t you shop at Pierre’s?” Shane wonders out loud.

I blink a few times as I adjust to the environment and then nod. “Visiting Sam,” I explain.

“Ah.” He nods too, in understanding, and then looking the other way he continues, “Enjoy.”

Shane makes his way towards a door to the right of the manager’s office. Says “Employee’s only,” so I’m assuming it’s a break room or something. I don’t miss the incorrect apostrophe, but choose not to linger on it either.

“You too.” He looks back over his shoulder, so I pair my well wishes with a lazy salute.

“Buh.”

…Buh?

I smile. I think he’s warming up to me!

Feeling a tad lost now that I’m alone, I look around before making any advances. Should’ve asked Shane if he knew where Sam would be around now. I dunno how the shifts work around here.

The cashiers to my left — a visibly exhausted red headed woman, probably in her late 30s or early 40s; and a scrawny, scruffy looking teenager, with thick-framed glasses sitting atop his freckled nose — both look miserable.

The boy is boredly leaning against the counter, zoned out on the ground in front of it. The woman looks totally spaced out on nothing in particular. It almost seems like she’s fighting off sleep, too. Poor lady.

The woman and I lock onto each other. She looks away from my face before I can even register it, but I notice her eyes flicker longingly to the coffee cup in my hand a few times after the fact. I peer between her and the beverage twice before I all but scurry away into the aisles. I’m too awkward for this. My only option is to retreat. Never said I wasn’t a coward.

While I venture past the boatloads of boxed, bagged and canned foods in search of the resident dog boy, I observe some of the products. Some don’t look safe for consumption, while others seem like they’d be fun to try as a one-off sort of deal. It overlaps a few times as well. I mean, why wouldn’t I want to try this cereal which very explicitly states on the box that it’s more sugar than grains? It makes me stifle a giggle. I like the brutal honesty.

I stop and stare at it for a sec. Gnawing my lip. Wondering if I should just…

No. I shan’t.

I break away from temptation and trek on. As I reach the end of the aisle, I pan across the back of the store. More shelf-stable products, a small produce section… ah!

Sam looks like he’s supposed to be mopping the floor near the freezers. To be fair, he is holding a mop, and it is touching the floor! But instead of cleaning, he uses the tool as a microphone; singing against the end of the brown wooden handle, both hands passionately gripping it as he bends his torso to quietly belt one part in particular. Sam’s eyes are shut, his bulky black headphones are secured over his ears, and he has not a single worry in the world.

Holding his coffee in both hands now, I stop walking and lean against a nearby shelf. Observing. Waiting. Eventually he’ll have to see me.

He does a little spin move and carelessly bumps into the bucket of soapy water he’s working with, causing it to slosh around a little. Some of it lands on the floor, and some on the pants of Sam’s jumpsuit. Doesn’t faze him in the slightest.

He does another spin the opposite way and nearly knocks over the conveniently placed display of sprinkles that are situated right in front of the ice cream freezer.

I feel like I should probably stop him before something bad happens, but he looks so damn content and so stinkin’ cute that I can’t be assed.

Just as I’m thinking this, he opens his eyes, completely avoiding my direction while he immediately peers over his shoulder. Sam scans around, getting a full view of the proximate areas. It seems like he’s just making sure he’s not about to get caught by his boss or something, if I had to guess.

Eventually he lands on me. We both smile wide, and I triumphantly hold up his (unspilled!!) coffee in one hand, presenting it with a small flourish of the other and a bow of my head.

“For you, my good sir.” I make sure to sound extra fancy, dropping my voice an octave and annunciating my words a bit too much.

He looks around again before meeting me in the middle with a fist bump, completely ignoring my bit. Aw man.

“Hell yeah, thanks dude!”

I shoot some awkward finger guns at him, “You got it, bud.”

“You didn’t make yourself one?”

I sigh, lamenting, “I did…”

Sam scans my face as we share a short silence. Then, the lightbulb almost visibly goes off in his noggin. “You spilled it, didn’t you?”

Pursing my lips, I nod. “I spilled it, yeah.”

“Buuummer, dude.” He pats my head and I sigh, leaning into his touch. I’ll be damned if I don’t still love head-pats, even if it’s been a while since I’ve gotten one. “Wanna split this one then?” he offers, palm still on my crown. At this point he’s just trying to messy me up.

“No thanks, I’ll just grab another later if I’m really craving it.” Not having noticed the trance I’ve been in as my hair gets slowly and steadily ruined — it feels nice, okay? — I finally look up at him, cheekily glaring as I manually remove his large hand from me. I add on as I try to repair the frizzy aftermath, “Sick performance, by the way!”

“You think so?” he beams. Makes me laugh.

“Of course! It looked like you were having a lot of fun.”

Sam’s face is a bit flushed as he takes the compliment, not even trying to hide it; he has a big goofy grin on his face, too.

It drops and Sam looks behind him as a deep voice with a bit of a southern twang booms from one of the aisles nearby. “Samson?”

“Shit, here.”

Sam hurriedly places his coffee into my hand and rushes back near his water bucket, looking around for his manager as he moves. I try to make things less suspicious by pretending to look at some nearby end caps.

I take a peek over when I hear Sam greet the man, “Hiya! What’s up, Morris?”

Crossing his arms and puffing out his chest to try and make himself look mighty, a man in a navy blue suit, a bright red bow tie, and a poorly-applied black toupee corrects him. “That’s Mr. Saxton, son.”

I roll my eyes. Awesome to know the guy running this Joja is just as insufferable as the dudes who work on the corporate side.

Sam puts an anxious hand on the back of his neck, and halfheartedly smiles as he apologizes, his speaking patterns much more formal than before. Poor guy… it hurts to see him having to tone it down so much for this dipshit.

I turn my attention back in front of me so as to give him some privacy. Not sure he’d want me to hear him getting his ear talked off.

This display is full of holiday cards... I might as well waste some time with these bad boys. I pick up one with a cartoon beagle wearing a birthday hat on it, stealing a sip of Sam’s coffee as I read the pun on the front: “Have a doggone good birthday!” Alright, nice and cheesy start…

I flip the card open. It starts blaring Baha Men’s “Who Let The Dogs Out.” Fucking hell. Jumpscare me, why doncha! I shudder at how tinny the music sounds — likely made worse by its volume — then close the card and place it back in its spot, not bothering to read more.

“Excuse me, miss?”

I peer over my left shoulder, and see that Mr. Saxton is making his way towards me. A vein is popping in his forehead, but he has a toothy smile on his face that screams customer service. Not sure what’s going on and feeling a little anxious about the situation, I don’t answer with words — I just turn my body to him and watch him expectantly.

My eyes flicker to Sam real quick, who’s closer to the opposite end of the freezers now. He’s looking over here though, and when his eyes catch mine, he mouths “Go!” and motions his arm towards the front end of the store. Maybe he got caught socializing or something… wouldn’t doubt that there’s probably heavy surveillance in here. Man.

I look back at Sam’s boss as he says, “I’m going to need you to discard your beverage.”

My brows furrow and I tilt my head. “Why?”

Ah, he’s the asking-questions-is-talking-back type: He huffs a deep breath and tilts his head as if to mimic me, clasping his fingers together in front of his ribs. The smile and vein are both still on his face.

“It is not only unacceptable to bring your own food into a grocery store,” he strains, “but I cannot have you spilling your drink all over our products.”

…I haven’t spilled anything. What does he think I am, some crusty little kid?

Damn, this is bringing out a rage that I haven’t experienced since working behind a Joja desk. I didn’t know I was even capable of it anymore. Must be something about the overstimulatingly bright blues, or the blindingly white strips of lights. Same ones we had above each cubicle in the office.

My anxiety is rapidly replaced with a petty yearn to cause a ruckus as I realize that I don’t work for Joja anymore. I never have to even come here again, actually.

I don’t answer to this fucko! I don’t answer to anyone!

Screw this guy!

Feeling courageous, I put on my own customer service mask as I inquire, “Do you want me to spill this on your products?”

“E-excuse me?!”

I hover the cup near the cards, tilting it a little. Doing a little eyebrow wiggle too for good measure. “It feels like you dooo.”

“I— w-what are you doing?”

Seb would be so proud if he were here. Not sure how Magnus would react, but I’d like to imagine he’d support me too.

Completely on impulse, I bring the cup in front of me and splash a little coffee in the man’s direction instead of the cards’. The now-lukewarm liquid splatters onto the white button-down beneath his jacket and rapidly seeps into the fabric, leaving a light brown, unsightly splotch.

Sick, got him where it hurts and none got on the floor! Less work for Sam!

Making sure my voice is just as cheery as Morris was trying to keep his, I cap this off, “Stop treating your employees like crap and stop treating complete strangers like children, asshole.”

This feels so good. My heart is racing and my pits feel a little moist and I might just end up an anxious mess the second I walk away, but I’ll be damned if this isn’t cool as fuck in the moment. When Leah asked me last week if Magnus ever wanted to go apeshit, it didn’t even occur to me how badly I wanted to go apeshit.

I walk down the nearest aisle as Morris continues sputtering something about me leaving, paying for this, whatever.

Shane’s kneeled down in the middle of the aisle stocking shelves. He faces me for a moment and grins slyly. “That was cool as hell.” Why does this feel so validating? “A woman after my own heart.”

HUH?

I blink that fucking flashbang away — seriously, the last time I saw him he was still being a dick, and today he’s treating every interaction like we’re fully acquainted, if not more, what the heck — as he turns away to scan items onto the shelf again.

“I really didn’t do much…” I really didn’t. Just kinda caused a minor inconvenience for the guy.

My hands are shaking though, so it must be catching up to me.

“That still took some balls.” He glimpses at me briefly and adds, “Y’look like you might cry, though. Get outta here before I change my mind about you.”

I huff out a quiet laugh and steady Sam’s — well, my, now — coffee in both hands. “On it, boss.”

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