#but yeah i like to think he kept the name devil just to piss off christians (only in his head. because nobody knows his name) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tinytalkingtina · 2 months ago

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Born to Run

Part 1 of Running with the Devil, a Steddie role reversal series

4k words | Rating: E

Tags/CW: Role reversal no upside down AU with some canon divergence, Jock/Track Star!Eddie, Metalhead/drug dealer!Steve, appalachian Eddie, confident bisexual Steve, Eddie has a sexuality crisis but is in denial, Eddie's sleeping mind decides to take matters into its own hands, wet dream (contains spanking and public humiliation), running of both the literal and metaphorical kind, child abuse referenced indirectly (physical beatings that happened in the past)

Read now on Ao3, and be sure to read @little-annie's Part 2 from Steve's POV, "Metal Health will Drive you Mad"

The sex dream within this fic is brought to you by the Week 4 prompt "slap" of the @steddiesmuttyseptember event

Eddie was always a runner. If you asked Wayne, he apparently skipped straight from crawling to toddling around as fast as his chubby legs could carry him. When he got older, it was a release valve, for everything and anything shitty in his life.

He didn’t have to think about his mom pulling a disappearing act, or his dad getting himself arrested (again). The world would narrow until the only sounds he could hear were the rushing in his ears and the smack of his sneakers on pavement.

Running had brought him to where he was now, as he clawed his way up the proverbial high school ranks. Anyone at this party would look at him and only see the triumphant senior captain of the track team, fresh off a successful meet. Every keg stand, every heroic retelling of a close race, every sloppy makeout session with a cheerleader, kept the attention on the Eddie of the present.

No one needed to remember the wide-eyed weirdo with patched baggy clothes, nearly ten when his classmates would only turn nine that year.

All around him, the crowd ebbed and flowed between the alcohol and the bonfire, the flickering flames and shadows making it hard to tell who was who. Someone stumbled into Eddie, breaking him out of his brooding.

“Whoops, sorry Eddie! Guess I’ll have to make it up to you later.” Before he could say anything, the giggling cheerleader pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. (He knew he went on a date with her about a month ago, but her name eluded him. Tina, maybe, or Vicki?)

He forced a grin back. “Of course you didn’t mean it sugar. Gonna hold you to that ‘kay?”

The girl possibly named Tina swooned at the tiny bit of accent he'd carefully slipped in. Just a touch could be charming to the fine folks of the Midwest, even if what he ended up using was way less Appalachian hick and more refined Southern gentleman than his momma's family had ever spoken in their lives.

As soon as her back was turned, he let the smile slide off. His post-meet high wore off too quickly tonight, and it left him well, twitchy.

An arm slung itself over his shoulder. "Ed my man, this party is wild! Your best work yet dude." Tommy grinned at him, already drunk. Neither of them commented on how close Tommy was pressing himself into Eddie. Or how Eddie wasn't quite moving away. But then again, the two of them had perfected the art of leaving things unsaid after what happened sophomore year, how close they had come to—no.

"Heh, yeah. Hey, where's Carol? She's gonna be pissed you abandoned her."

"Please, Carol's fine. She's busy talking with Lisa Carmichael. Speaking of which, she's really into you. Come on, get your dick wet, you deserve it after that 800 meter. We're fucking going to states!" His last sentence was said much louder, and a chorus of cheers and whoops predictably echoed back from celebratory partygoers. The twitchiness grew.

"I dunno man, not really feeling it tonight." Eddie tried to subtly back up a little bit, but Tommy just swayed forward into his space again.

“Trust me, you won’t be feeling like that when you're balls deep in a nice tight—"

"Tommy will you just fucking stop? What's with your obsession with my dick huh?"

A look of fear and hurt flashed across Tommy's face for a second, before it was replaced with a scowl. Fuck that was the wrong thing to say and danced way too close to the thoughts about—nope, they were not gonna talk about that.

Eddie carefully pat Tommy on the shoulder instead of thinking. "Shit sorry, it's fine, you're just looking out for me, right? I appreciate it, just not uh, really in the partying mood for some reason."

Tommy managed to recover his grin. "Oh, duh, why didn't you say so? That fucking freak Harrington finally showed up about thirty minutes ago. Sure he's got something that'll make you unwind a bit. Here, have one on me.”

Eddie wanted to snap that he didn’t need pity money. He got the kegs supplied just fine on his own, hadn’t he? But Tommy was still holding himself tensely several steps away. Tommy, who in sixth grade biked over every other day even after his parents had told him to stay away from the trailer park. Who “accidentally” always had a second pudding cup tucked in with his lunch for sharing. Whose summertime freckles were just starting to fade but Eddie knew still trailed down all the way to his—.

Besides, maybe weed would take the edge off whatever ugly thing kept rearing its insistent head inside him tonight. Help him forget about the looming pressures of the future and the things he wasn’t going to think about, help him feel normal again.

“Thanks Tommy, I’ll try and relax.” Eddie grabbed the money and set off down the path towards Skull Rock, where Harrington always held court. The chill wind rustling through the trees was a welcome respite to his overheated skin.

The walk over to the next clearing was only a few minutes, but by the time Eddie came upon it, the thrum of bass and general teenage debauchery had faded into a low murmur.

Instead, Skull Rock reverberated with the sound of tapping and gentle humming. Eddie’s heart picked up a little.

Steve Harrington made him nervous. It wasn’t necessarily how loud the guy was. Eddie could understand the need to fill a room up. He could vaguely remember a quieter pre-pubescent Harrington before his dramatic transformation, dressed in tiny polos and khakis and halfheartedly kicking around a soccer ball. Now, his entire wardrobe consisted solely of black and red accented with flashy gold rings. The thick combat boots he wore constantly made him tower over everyone else, and the ever-growing collection of tattoos scattered on his body thoroughly scandalized each and every teacher. What they all meant was a perennial topic of discussion amongst the student body.

A voice echoed down from one of the boulders: “Oh hey, look who showed up, it’s Eddie Munson himself! Heard from your sidekick Hagan you’re the reason Hawkins is going to States.”

Steve was stretched out, lounging on the top of the rock, a pair of drumsticks held loosely in one hand.

“Yup, we are. First time in five years actually.” The state championships. There would be college recruiters there, and with them the promise of scholarships that’d get him out of this town. Somewhere far away from the looming threat of the plant bending his back prematurely like it had Wayne’s. Somewhere no one had heard the name of Al Munson.

“Well then.” Steve practically purred as he smoothly jumped down to the ground. He gave his drumsticks a twirl before stashing them in his pocket. “You sure got ‘em, didn’t you Tiger.”

Yeah, there it was. Seemed like sometimes, Harrington could see right through him, like he knew about how his thoughts occasionally strayed to—nope.

Eddie crossed his arms and tried to keep his face neutral. “Uh-huh.”

“Don’t you know it’s polite to thank someone when they compliment you?” Steve’s eyes sparkled with amusement. The fucker was toying with him. Worse, he was enjoying it.

Summoning every ounce of cockiness he possessed, Eddie stood up straight. Sure, this close Harrington had several inches on him, but it didn’t matter. Only one of them could throw the party of the year, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the unpopular weirdo in front of him.

“Shouldn’t you be the one thanking me? I let you sell your shit at my party.”

“Got a mouth on you, don’t you.” Steve smirked. “Tell me Munson, what’s stopping me from taking my goodies to, say, the basketball team’s next rager and skipping out on your little get together entirely? Don’t have to dirty my shoes at their parties. They choose to host at a house.”

Eddie gritted his teeth. “Hey fuck you man, not all of us have—”

“Didn’t say I minded,” Steve plowed on, interrupting him. “Maybe I like the fresh air and the…view. Just like to enjoy them peacefully.” He stood there with his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in expectation.

Eddie could feel his face flushing but he held his ground. “Never stopped you from helping yourself to our beer.”

“Free shitty beer, just what I look forward to.” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “I gotta say, wasn’t really expecting you to come here. Don’t you usually send someone else to get your fix?”

Eddie shrugged. “Needed a change. And we both know you overcharge Tommy.”

“You’re not wrong about that.” Steve barked out a laugh. “But he deserves the asshole tax. Just weed for you tonight? There’s all kinds of ways to unwind if your usual methods are leaving you…unsatisfied there Munson.”

Vividly, Eddie was reminded of the graffiti scribbled on the walls above the urinals near the gym: Score a touchdown, then score with SH. More often than not, Steve could be found spectating the games, quietly dealing underneath the bleachers. On occasion, one girl or another could be seen emerging from underneath and brushing dirt off her skirt. But there was that other rumor, one that no guy would ever admit to having personal experience with. That if you won, Harrington would give anyone weed for free if they got on their knees for him and—woah there. What was wrong with him tonight?

“Th-think the weed is jus’ fine, ain’t lookin’ for much else.” he stammered out. Shit, why did his accent have to slip now of all times? “I mean, weed is all I need. Those fucking pricks from Greencastle got under my skin.” Assholes thought they were so big, mocking his out of style sneakers. Those shoes hadn't stopped him from shaving half a second off the regional record, but he couldn't help but still feel the barbs from their insults lodged under his skin, festering.

Steve cocked his head as he stared at Eddie with an unreadable expression on his face. Finally he broke into a disarming smile. Eddie couldn’t remember ever seeing Steve sincerely express happiness, at least not from this distance. He would have remembered how prett—how his eyes lit up.

“I’m in a band you know. Pierced Scepter. We play down at this shitty dive bar and yeah, usually it’s a crowd of four drunks and the bartender, but it doesn’t matter. Being on any stage is…fuck it’s awesome. But sometimes it’s a little too much to just pack it all up right after. So I come out here to scream my head off, get it all out. Better off terrorizing the birds than picking fights when my parents are around.” Steve unconsciously rubbed his palm as he laughed humorlessly. “Saves on the screaming matches at home and the. Well.”

“Didn’t realize rich folks got their own hands dirty like that.” Carol’s parents had left the task of punishment to her nanny, preferring to swoop in with carrots after the stick had been administered.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure my dad would say something about how ‘real men are responsible for disciplining their kids so they don’t get soft.’ Though what he considers ‘soft’ changes a lot based on his mood. And whether he’s wearing a belt or suspenders that day.”

“G-d, who knew our dads have something in common then?” Eddie snorted. “Never could keep my old man happy, was always doing something wrong. He took the belt to me so often in third grade I barely could sit down the whole year.” His first time in third grade anyway, the one before he was whisked away to the safe haven of Wayne’s trailer.

“And…I have absolutely no idea why I told you that.” He barely talked about his dad to Tommy and Carol for crying out loud. On visitor’s days he always made up some lie about why he and Wayne were driving close to the state penitentiary.

Steve let out a weird little braying bark of a laugh and shuffled his feet. “Right, you didn’t come here to cry over our daddy issues. Gimme a sec to get your stuff.” Steve reached behind to grab the lunchbox he carried his goods around in. As he did, his jacket slid open enough to show the exposed line of his clavicle above the low-cut collar of his tee. Eddie swallowed hard. Against his will, his eyes dipped lower, noticing a design over the top of his pec in black ink. Oh, a new tattoo.

Eddie squinted trying to make out what it was. “It’s been a while since you gave O’Donnell a reason to lecture us on the ‘decaying morality of the modern day.’ Is that a two headed monkey?”

Delight flickered over Steve’s face. “This? Yeah, it’s new. Supposed to be Demogorgon, the ‘Prince of Demons.’” At Eddie’s blank look he chuckled. “He’s a monster from Dungeons and Dragons, you know, the fantasy game we play in Hellfire Club. It was the final battle of a months long campaign and our characters were trying to escape Demogorgon’s lair. Most of the party was close to death, but at a chokepoint, my character took a last stand and gave the others enough time to escape. Everyone else got out, even if the bastard got me in the end. So, I got this as a tribute to my character's sacrifice.”

Eddie spoke without thinking. “Oh, that’s kind of similar to what Gandalf did: facing off against the Balrog to save the rest of the Fellowship.”

Forget fleeting glimpses of real smiles. The look of surprise Steve gave him was almost comically out of place on his face. “You’ve read Lord of the Rings?”

“While ago, yeah. The Hobbit too.” Back when he first moved in with Wayne, the man had found an absolutely beautiful illustrated set at a rummage sale. Eddie smiled to himself, remembering how excited he’d been to get his first real present ever. “Spent a whole summer running around during the day, then staying up way too late reading all night. My uncle had to confiscate my flashlight eventually.”

A snort from Steve jolted Eddie out of his memories as he realized who he was talking to. “Don’t tell anyone that Harrington, or else,” he ordered as he flushed for the second time that evening, “The rest of your dorky club of nerds better not start bothering me in the hallway just because I’ve read Tolkien. Not going to step in to save them if they forget their place.”

Steve’s expression shuttered as he stood upright. “Right, wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation with the rest of your jock buddies.” Eddie was taken aback by the bitterness in Steve’s voice. “They might explode if you admit to having interests beyond banging chicks, sports magazines, and beer. Your secret’s safe with me. After all, who’s going to believe the Freakshow? Here.” He shoved a baggie in Eddie’s face. “That should be enough for about a week. Now get lost before I double the price.”

Eddie opened his mouth to apologize. But the artificial sneer on Steve’s face made him lose his nerve. He just held out his money as he snatched away the weed. “Thanks, uh, have a good night Harrington. Help yourself to something from the kegs.” He almost made it to the edge of the trees before Steve’s voice called out to him: “Hey, Munson!”

He froze and turned. Steve had clambered back onto Skull Rock, moonlight and shadows making him look otherworldly and malevolent, towering over the clearing. “Keep that attitude of yours in check next time, or else I might take my services somewhere else. But, if you need more help…unwinding, well. You know where to find me.” That knowing smirk was firmly fixed back in place on his face.

Eddie couldn’t help it. He finally gave into his impulses and ran.

He didn’t think about those plush lips drawn back into a genuine smile as he quickly navigated back to the party. He didn’t think about those amused eyes seeing right through him as he knocked back a few cups of beer and danced a little with anyone and no one. And he certainly wasn’t thinking about that tattoo surrounded by chest hair as he staggered home to an empty trailer and collapsed into his bed.

“You look so good there, kneeling for me Eddie.” Steve looms over him, those ringed hands on his hips. Eddie realizes he’s naked in the clearing and flushes with embarrassment. When did he take off his clothes?

Any thoughts on how he ended up here are derailed when the wind caresses his body. Oh. Tendrils of air race over his exposed chest and glide over his heavy balls and dripping cock.

“And look how much you’re enjoying it too.” He’s never been this turned on in his life, and it’s all because of Steve. All for Steve. He’s powerless to prevent a moan from falling out of his mouth.

“You act so big at school, like you’re the top of the food chain yeah? A real king of the jungle. But you and me, we know better. You’re not a scary tiger at all are you. No, you’re just a cute little kitten.”

Eddie can’t help but whine as he spreads himself wider in invitation.

“Yeah, thought you’d like that.” Steve crooks a finger and gestures for Eddie to follow him. “Come on kitten.” Eddie begins to get up, his legs tingling with pins and needles.

“Mhm, no. I like you better down there. In fact, I think you should crawl.”

He shudders but obeys the sound of that voice, would do anything for it. He stays on all fours as the path unwinds before them, until they come to a door. Eddie moves as fast as he can to follow Steve through, tumbling into the void within. He flails, plummeting until a familiar wax-polished wood rushes up to meet his palms. Eddie doesn’t dare get up from his hands and knees as he lifts his head but-

The gym is filled to the brim.

Their classmates sit silently, blank looks on their faces as they stare. They’re waiting for something to happen. White hot shame courses through his veins as he desperately tries to cover up.

The voice cuts smoothly through the haze of his embarrassment: “Look at them kitten, they’re all waiting for a show. Let’s give one to them.”

Steve nudges him onto his back. He grabs his wrists and pulls them away from his body, exposing Eddie to the crowd. No! His face is on fire as he tries to fight it, but he can’t seem to break free, his strength sapped away. Steve tightens his hold on his wrists.

“Settle down Eddie, let them see you. You love this.”

He knows Steve is right. He can’t hide how hard his aching cock is, slapping against his belly as he squirms. But he can’t help it, they’ll all know. Faint whispers drift down from the stands as the crowd watches him struggle.

“Please, don’t make me do this,” he begs, but the words get caught in his choked up throat.

“I think you’ve forgotten your place. Maybe you need a reminder that you can’t hide, not from me.”

Steve hauls him up and easily slings him over a shoulder. Eddie lays there limply, frozen and whimpering. He’s unceremoniously dumped on top of a teacher’s desk right at the center line. Hands come up to squeeze at his nipples, hard. Just the way he does when he’s alone. His cock twitches and drools even more from the groping.

Eddie blinks, and suddenly the bleachers are that much closer.

“Be happy kitten, all the attention is on you! Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?” Oh G-d. Every eye is fixed on him, the buzzing of interest growing louder.

“No, I don’t want this, I don’t want you!” He shouts as loud as he can but the words come out muted and garbled.

Steve barks out a cruel laugh. “God, you’re pathetic. But then you’ve always been so good at lying to yourself haven’t you? You were the one who kissed Tommy, not the other way around. But when he went in for more, you pushed him off and ran away.”

Through the blur of tears, he can just make out Tommy’s face in the crowd, wearing the same accusatory and hurt look he had two years ago.

Steve leans down to nibble at his ear. “And,” he whispers, his voice silky smooth. “Let’s not forget how in the back of your head you imagine me shoving you against a locker and making you take it. Or sometimes, I threaten you with my knife a little out in the woods, yeah?”

Without warning, Eddie is manhandled over Steve’s lap. “Good news, guess today’s your lucky day kitten. I’m going to make you take it until you admit to everyone what you really want.”

SMACK!

The first slap to his ass sounds loudly, echoing around the gym. Eddie nearly swallows his tongue trying to keep quiet. The spectators in the stands let out a gasp for him.

But Steve doesn’t stop there. He keeps going, until Eddie feels like his ass is on fire.

He finds himself pleading for Steve to have mercy, slipping back into the accent he tries so hard to keep a lid on normally.

“Ha, there he is, finally. You can dress yourself up in a varsity jacket all you want, but we all know what you really are. Just a piece of trailer trash. You can’t run from this you dumb hick. Tell me what I want to hear.”

Eddie shakes his head. He can’t. “Fine, then take your punishment.”

Smack after smack rains down on his ass. The pain builds and builds, and the crowd gets louder and louder. But underneath the humiliation, he remains hard and grows even more desperate. Every slap sends him thrusting, his cock trapped between Steve’s muscular thighs. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Ha! And you jocks call me the freak. You’re the one humping my leg and yowling like you’re in heat. Pain turn you on kitten?”

That’s all it takes to push him over the edge.

He cums to the sound of cheers.

Eddie woke with a jolt and a gasp, his whole body pulsing in the aftermath of the most intense orgasm he’d ever experienced.

Trembling, he curled up into a ball and let the tears fall. This was nothing, just a passing thought his brain had gotten attached to. All he had to do was survive the year, and then he could be finally free of Hawkins, and the living ghosts that haunted him.

If only that had been the last time he dreamed of Steve Harrington.

Two weeks later, Eddie woke with a fuzzy head and even fuzzier memories of the night before, vaguely remembering a ringed hand stroking his hair. On his nightstand was a glass of water, some Tylenol, and a note from SH telling him to take it easy.

After that his dreams changed. Sometimes he wasn’t humiliated at all, and those tattooed arms kept him safe and cared for. It felt worse almost, to have his subconscious offer up such happiness, only to snatch it away when he woke to an empty bed. He didn’t dare spend the night in the arms of a girl at her house, worried he’d reveal himself for the freak he was.

A full month of torment and countless hours of lost slumber later, Eddie finally had had enough. He grabbed his keys and tore off in the direction of Steve's house, praying that Carol wouldn't see his van in her neighbor's driveway at this time of night.

As he rang the doorbell, he didn’t know what to expect. But it certainly wasn’t the sight of a sleep rumpled Steve answering the door in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Somehow, seeing his bare hands felt more intimate than the lack of shirt did.

“Munson? Gave me a heart attack, thought my parents were back a day early. What are you—”

“Hey,” Eddie interrupted, wide-eyed and feeling slightly crazed. “Can we talk?”

Ao3 link

It's finally here! This began life as a brain worm that Annie and I have turned into a whole fully expanded universe. We can't wait to write more with these two :D

Tagging a few folks who showed interest in the original Wiggly Wednesday post (but please feel free to ignore): @eyesofshinigami @augustjustice @griefabyss69 @hairstevington

@dreamy-jeans137 @eriquin @hbyrde36 @hotluncheddie

Thank you to steddiecameraroll-graphics for the runner divider!

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #role reversal au #stranger things #tinawrites #role reversal steddie

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blue-rose-soul · 4 months ago

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Yeah, if Nicaise ever got around to telling the crew how she and Alastor died in the Devil's Dear Friend, they'd be pissed. Lucifer especially for how unfair it was and the seemingly random sorting process that separated mother and child.

I wonder how Charlie would even manage to meet Alastor during their court case if he was under such heavy surveillance. Emily was supervising and not informed about Alastor's parentage, but it also seems like Alastor would have been kept in the dark on that too.

"Maman always said my father was an angel. Is he here?"

If he ever said it at the start, it was probably the first memory the elder heavenborn obscured to keep him compliant.

To twist the knife, Lucifer had long since given up on sinners and written them off as irredeemably horrible people who deserve eternal damnation. Meeting Nicaise again causes this worldview to begin splitting at the seams.

Charlie's only real chance to try to find Nicaise's son would be before the meeting with Heaven's leadership, although going in she wouldn't know that so she doesn't treat it as urgent. While Emily is escorting Charlie around Heaven before the meeting, Sera asks Alastor to remain at home until the 'daughter of the morning star' leaves. For his safety, of course.

Alastor looked at Sera, smiled sweetly and agreed, and then as soon as she shut the door he was climbing out the back window.

He doesn't know what 'the morning star' is, exactly, but it sounds very important so obviously he's going to be curious about it! Unfortunately on his way to Saint Peter's gate to spy he gets caught by Adam and Lute.

Adam and Alastor have met before, but Sera also keeps Alastor's heritage from the First Man. For obvious reasons. Even so, Alastor hates what a massive jerkface Adam is and so he acts like a little brat towards him. And since Adam is a massive jerkass with a pretty big ego, he does not respond well to this brat's disrespect. So when he sees Alastor without Emily his instant assumption is that Alastor is up to some shenanigans which... to be fair, yeah, he is up to some shenanigans.

Instead of rushing right by Adam and Lute without sparing them a glance, Sera, Emily, Charlie, and Lute come across the scene of Adam and Alastor arguing. Adam has a tight grip on Alastor's wrist and is trying to drag him somewhere while Lute is looking around nervously and pales when she sees Sera fuming at them. She breaks up the fight, scolds Adam for picking on Alastor again, and gives Alastor the patented mom 'I'm disappointed in you' look. Alastor pretends to be guilty for all of two seconds before he turns his attention to Charlie and Vaggie.

So this is a messy tangle of characters to have together:

Sera is terrified of Charlie learning who Alastor is and revealing this to Alastor.

Charlie of course already knows because Nicaise told her Alastor's name, but she's standing here awkwardly pretending she doesn't know because she thinks that Sera and them don't know.

Vaggie's avoiding eye contact with everyone and just praying no one recognizes her...

...while Lute is actively glaring a hole into the side of Vaggie's head.

And Adam's pouting over being scolded in front of everyone.

And Alastor and Emily are just standing here smiling in the eye of this shit storm.

#ask #anonymous #Hazbin Hotel #the Devil's Bastard AU #the Devil's Dear Friend AU #Alastor #Charlie Morningstar #Vaggie #Adam (Hazbin Hotel)#Lute (Hazbin Hotel)#Sera (Hazbin Hotel)#Emily (Hazbin Hotel)#I think if Sera heard Alastor saying that bit about his dad being an angel #her immediate assumption would be that Lucifer was being a lying snake who tricked this poor human woman

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strangersails · 10 months ago

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part two of “billy tries so hard not to fall in love with steve (and fails)”.

“look, i know i’m an asshole” billy says, still so close to him. “and i know apes have better mannerism than i have, that i look like i don’t give a shit. but that. is nothing personal. okay? i’m just not a people person, i need constant space and i need to leave when things start to feel serious.”

“billy. you don’t even call me by my name. how is that serious?” steve rubs his face with both hands, then he folds his arms on his chest again.

billy takes the hint and takes a step back. “it is to me. i don’t call you steve cause that feels personal. i don’t stay in your bed after we fuck, cause that feels personal. i don’t want to hear your stories, because that feels too personal.”

“and why is that bad?” steve asks.

this also feels too personal, but now it’s too late.

“because if it’s personal, it means that we’re close. and if we’re close...” it takes him a moment to end the sentence, and he can’t do it looking him in the eyes, so he draws them on steve’s hands and then admits, “it means i have something to lose”.

steve tilts his head back, his arms still folded on his chest while he looks at billy. “i get it, but then i don’t understand this: what’s the point? why’d you kiss me?”

which is a fair question, billy’s gotta say it. “i don’t know. i just... i miss you, i told you.” billy is more honest than he thought he would be, but at this point why would he lie? what good would it do? he’d already exposed himself, anyway.

“you mean you miss the sex.”

billy can’t say if it’s a statement or a question, but it pisses him off whether it’s the first or the second. “i mean i missed you, harrington” he says, and he regrets the name almost the exact moment it slips from his lips.

he surely regrets it when the little muscles around the corner of steve’s lips curl and kind of shape it in a little, sad pout.

“look. i’m not gonna lie, i missed the sex too, but do you really think that you’re my only chance to get laid? i don’t just miss you cause you give me the best orgasms.”

“what do you miss, then? what can you possibly miss about me, when you’ve barely treated me like a hole this whole time? i don’t understand.”

billy’s heart sinks at those words. “i know i was a huge asshole and i’m sorry for that. i didn’t really mean to. i was just trying my best not to let you come too close. i know occasional sex can be tricky.”

“answer me. what do you miss, if it’s not just the sex?” steve sound so suspicious, like he’s sure there’s nothing billy could possibly appreciate about him enough for him to miss his presence. billy knows he really fucked up.

he takes a moment before he answer, and he feels steve’s compelling stare. “you smell really nice” he says then. “your breath” he gulps nervously, interrupting himself, “smells nice.” what the fuck, billy. “you like phil collins, which is embarrassing, but it suits you. i know it cause you’ve got all the damn tapes piled up on the desk next to your bed and they once fell on my face when you were pounding me so g—”

“jesus christ shut up.”

“—and your writing is the ugliest, i still got your stupid ice cream shaped little post it with your number on it sticked in the sun visor in my car, but you made that cute little heart drawing with the devil’s horns and tail, i couldn’t physically throw it away.”

“you kept it?”

“yeah.”

“it was a joke, that stupid drawing.” steve’s ears go red.

billy can’t help but grin. “it’s ugly. it’s the wonkiest heart i’ve ever seen.”

steve shoves him gently by the shoulder. “shut up. you kept it.”

“i kept it.” billy curls his finger around the front belt loop of steve’s denim, and tugs him a little closer. he can’t help himself. “i like the fact that you’re a nice person, even though you don’t believe it, for reasons that i ignore.”

billy also ignores the little twitch of steve’s eyebrow that confirms what he just said.

“i like that you’re dyslexic but it pisses me off that you won’t—”

“wait, what?” steve’s face flushes a hot, fluorescent pink while he nervously laughs. “you like that i’m dyslexic? what does that even mean? it doesn’t even sound like a compliment...”

“that’s cause it’s not a compliment” billy lets his fingers graze on steve’s hips only to get to wrap his arms around his tiny waist.

“...”

“i’m not joking, i like it. it’s a steve thing. it’s part of you and it’s... i don’t know. look, i suck at this kind of things. i know you a little, i know how i feel when i’m with you and i kind of miss it.”

steve has his arms folded on his chest between them. he hums. billy would pay to know what’s going on under that nest of messy, fluffy hair. he hates the silence and that stance too. like steve wants to put distance between them. but at the same time he could get rid of billy’s embrace, which he didn’t, and that gives billy a little hope.

“okay” steve says, eventually.

“okay...?” billy repeats prompting him to be more explicit.

“i believe you.”

of fucking course, he wants to say. he didn’t make a fool out of himself admitting all those embarrassing things to him only to be questioned? why would he lie about it, anyway? stupid harrington. he won’t be hearing of any more of those nauseatingly sweet things anytime soon.

“well, thanks” he just says, still a little anxious about what’s coming next. he hopes it’s not a but.

“but” here we go... “i don’t know what you expect from me, then. you want to fuck and then what?”

billy lets out a heavy sigh and lets his hands drop from steve’s waist.

“hey. get back here.” steve doesn’t sound like he’ll accept no's.

so billy gets back to wrap his arms around him, even though his stomach is still tense.

“i did not tell you to get off, did i?” steve sounds dead serious.

billy holds him tighter out of spite. and nostalgy.

steve unfolds his arms and let his hands linger on the other boy’s biceps.

“what do you want to do, billy?” he asks again. “you want to fuck and then what? because if we’re going back to you treating me like a hole we’re not going to—”

“please don’t say that” billy interrupts him.

it’s steve’s turn to sigh, this time. he draws those slender fingers of his on his chest. billy is glad he busts his own ass off in the gym. “alright. but i mean it, we’re not going far if you plan on going back to strangers fifty seconds after you give me the best orgasms of my life.”

billy’s pride sings for a moment, but he still struggles with the rest, so he can’t brag right now.

“look, i get it. boundaries. we can have them, bills. i’m not asking for you to stay the night and hold my hand and sing me to sleep. just. i don’t know.”

billy wants to eat his stupid worried face and shower it with kisses and the thought makes his stomach twist, but what can he do? the other option is going back to being avoided and he hates the thought even more.

“we can hang out sometimes maybe? when i’m not actually busy or something” he tries.

“i mean, you don’t have to” steve don’t look at him in the eyes, like billy’s jacket is too interesting all of the sudden. “i don’t want you to feel forced to do something you don’t want to...”

“it’s not really like i don’t want to, though” he admits.

“it’s not?”

that stupid hopeful face he makes. billy wants once again to skin him alive.

“can i kiss you again?” he asks, before he can hold himself.

steve’s face goes all red again. “you better. you’ll need a lot of those if you want me to forgive you.”

billy leans in and gives a quick peck on his lips, tightening his grip on the boy’s hips. “oh, it’s like that, uh?”

“it’s like that...”

steve says that with the velvetiest voice, and billy chases his lips, catching them on a kiss that soon becomes sloppy and wet and deep, they kiss with tongue and teeth and hot breaths and fingertips. steve makes the most delicious whines, and billy can’t help but pull at his hair, bringing him closer, licking into his mouth and savoring him like it’s the last meal of his life. steve melts into the kiss, billy can feel the way he goes limp against him, the way his arms are hanging loose and relaxed around his shoulders.

“it’s so unfair that you kiss like this and we only started now” steve whines, pinching his nipple as a punishment.

billy flicks his forehead in return. “ow.”

“you owe me a hundred kisses at least, hargrove.”

billy leans in to kiss his lips again briefly. “yeah, yeah, you already said that.”

steve grins from ear to ear, lips stretched against billy’s. billy bite them.

“what the fuck are laughing for?”

“i can’t believe you kept the drawing.”

he regrets it already and makes that obvious rolling his eyes on the back of his skull. “shut up. i’m throwing it in the trash.”

“no you’re not.” steve kisses him.

“no i’m not.”

and steve kisses him again. and then billy is opening his mouth, angling his head just a little to be comfortable to dive into steve’s parted lips again. steve tastes like booze and cigarettes and billy loves it.

they’re never going back to not kissing.

#i don’t really like it but y’all asked for it so here we go #billy is the most oblivious motherfu**er i stg #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #stranger things #*my ficlet #idk bye

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blues824 · 1 year ago

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Hey there! May I request the House Wardens with a Female Asta Reader from Black Clover? (Like Asta, she’s an orphan along with Yuno, who was born without Magic in a world where everyone has magic, but refuses to give up and trained her body every single day because she dreams to become the Wizard King, and inherited the 5 Leaf Grimoire at the Grimoire Ceremony when she was 15)

How would they react to her revealing she’s an Orphan, Commoner/Peasant, was mocked and insulted her who life because she wasn’t born with Magic (As the amount of Magic and your Social Statues decided if your useful or worthless) yet she’s optimistic, doesn’t care what others think about her (As Asta literally found it funny how the Nobility was ‘Chewing him Out’ for his social Standing and just kept eating very much unbothered by their hurtful and cruel words)

However she gets FURIOUS when it’s her friends that are insulted, as she tells them she couldn’t care less what others think of her, but if her friends’ are being insulted or harmed in ANY way she’ll beat them up (Deuce, Grim, and the Ghosts and any other friends she makes will literally BAWL when she says that they know she always keeps her word, even if it means she gets harmed; while Ace just feels embarrassed)

How do you think they’ll react to her revealing she has a DEVIL inside her Grimoire that gives her Anti-Magic to use (Bonus if your caught up in the Anime and Manga on who the Devil is 😏😭) and how her ‘Pet’ Bird just follows her everywhere either on her head pecking her or nearby (Nero is the… ‘birds’ name, is Male for a VERY obvious reason 😏😏) the level of jealousy will be PHENOMENAL 🤣

I forgot to mention, but she’s phenomenally strong, fast, has incredible reaction time, endurance, stamina and incredible will (As she trained every single day to hone her body and go past her physical limits… As well as can us Ki. Rook is not going to be able to sneak up on her, she’ll be able to tell where he is, and tell how other people are feeling, thus makes finding who’s gonna Overblot MUCH easier)

Although I think they’re gonna be PISSED when they hear about Brother Lily (Genderbent Sister Lily 🤣💀) and her repeatedly trying to marry him (As well as just going up to Vil and be like; MC; ‘Yeah you’re gorgeous but not a Gorgeous and AMAZING AS BROTHER LILY!!’ Vil; ?!?!? 🤣🤣🤣)

When I say that this single request took up a whole page on Google Docs, I’m not joking. Also, I’m giving you Riddle, Leona, and Azul because I lost motivation for this a while ago.

Riddle Rosehearts

And he thought that he had it bad. You were a magicless commoner orphan in a magical world, but you refused to let that define you and decided that you were going to train your butt off to become stronger. When he’s scolded you, you’ve just brushed it off.

Now, when he scolds the Adeuce duo, you are about ready to throw hands with the Prefect of Heartslabyul. You tell him off about the way he’s constantly belittling them and how he expects them to learn if he tells them that they are good-for-nothing jerks.

He has noticed your grimoire and thought nothing of it until he saw the devil inhabiting it. He doesn’t dabble in the dark arts, so this is very unfamiliar territory. In fact, he doesn’t recall ever meeting a demon ever. So to hear that you carry one around with you, he is shocked.

Leona Kingscholar

You went from one magicless-person-in-a-magical-world situation to another, and for once in his life he actually felt pity towards you. You also maintained the brightest smile he had ever seen, even brighter than his nephew’s.

When Leona had started yelling at the ADeuce duo, you did actually throw hands this time. As you were fighting (and winning) against the lion, you were shouting about how you would not let him belittle your friends like that. Needless to say, he got the message.

Upon finding out that the grimoire you carry with you has a devil living inside it, his respect for you already grew. I mean, he already routinely drinks his ‘respect women’ juice, so to say that he respected you more is saying a lot.

Azul Ashengrotto

You were just a pity show at this point. But, one that didn’t concern him at the moment because he could not capitalize off of your misfortune. From what he could see, you had nothing that would be of value to him aside from Ramshackle.

But, when Azul had taken advantage of Ace, Deuce, and Grim, you did actually fight Jade, Floyd, and the aforementioned cecaelia and left the three with a black eye as you demanded that the three be let out of the contract.

Then, he found out about the grimoire and the devil living within it, and you could paint him as intrigued. To be fair, he did want to put you under a contract so that he could use the devil to his advantage, but that’s not quite how it worked.

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midnightecko · 2 years ago

Text

Jason Todd x reader

Jason only recently started getting along with his family, by that I mean they didn't immediately kill each other when they see each other on the field.

And while he was happy to be able to talk to his family, he hasn't been able to take to the person he missed most, you.

You had been avoiding him, he was positive you knew who he was under the mask. Every time you saw him as RedHood, you would turn the otherway and disappear.

If Jason had to be honest it was pissing him off. All he wanted in the world was to see you and hold you in his arms until your both old and grey. But he couldn't because you kept running from him.

The closest he got to you since he died was when he was following you.

He remembered how you noticed his presence and how you turned around to look at him. You two held eye contact for what seemed like eternity, and even under your domino mask he swore you cast him the smallest of smiles.

He sighed thinking of the memory taking off his helmet and shaking out his hair, much like what a dog would do.

"What's wrong Jaybird," Dick spoke up from behind him.

If it was possible Jason would shove Dick off the roof and let him plumit to his death. But sadly he couldn't because as much as Dick annoyed him he still loved his big brother, not that he would ever tell Dick that.

"How'd you find me," Jason asked.

"Ya'know that we were supposed to patrol together tonight right?" Dick responded.

Jason have to turn around to know that he was smiling, he could practically hear the smile in his voice.

"Yeah, I know"

"So you tried to bail on me"

"Yep"

Dick laughed and sat down next to Jason, who had the smallest traces of a smile on his face.

"No but seriously, how did you find me"

"You're they only adult in this entire city that has a favorite gargoyle"

Jason shook his head and laughed, turning to the said gargoyle on the other side of him.

"Yeah I guess your right"

Dick paused for a moment, thinking off a way he could word his next sentence without scaring Jason off.

"Jay....is there...something you want to talk...about?"

Jason stopped twirling his white strands of hair, a nervous habit he picked up after the Lazarus Pit.

"I....have you talked to y/n?" He spoke, a nervous wavering in his voice. He heard Dick taking in a sharp breath.

"She's...she's good. Busy but good"

He stopped for a moment thinking.

"Look it's not my place to tell...but she's had a lot on her hands lately. I'll talk to her....meet me at midnight tomorrow in the harbor warehouse, I'll tell you then"

Jason was kinda mad he had to wait, but he wanted answers. Jason huffed putting his helmet back on, he nodded and jumped off the roof. Dick sighed and followed his baby brother.

☆☆♡☆☆♡☆☆♡☆☆♡☆☆♡☆☆

That following morning Dick walked into the cave partially regretting what he said to Jason, knowing damn well it was gonna be hard to convince you.

'Speak of the devil' Dick thought.

You had just walked into the batcave carrying a small child on your hip.

The child had wavy ebony hair that went down to his chin and crystal blue eyes. Dick couldn't help but think that he looked almost identical to Jason when he was younger.

He still remembers when y/n brought Aslan home, that was the kid's name, everyone was so sad when Jason died that no on noticed

y/n's 7 month long absence until she came home from the hospital with a baby.

She never told anyone who the father was, but no one needed to be told. It was pretty obvious, the timeliness matched up perfectly and he looked exactly like him. Aslan was a exact replica of his father, and he was spoiled like you couldn't believe by his grandfather and uncles.

He was mischievous and sarcastic for a 5 year old and loved reading. Most of the books in Wayne Manor were already ready by him, all of the age appropriate ones that is.

"HEY Little Bird!" Dick exclaimed towards the balcony. Both you and Aslan looked down towards the voice. You with a small smile and Aslan with giddy excitement.

"UNCLE DICK!", the small child was trying to wiggle out of your hold.

You laughed setting him down, only for Aslan to run into Dick's open arms. The latter picked him up and put him on his shoulders.

Duck turned his head to the 5 year old, "Isn't it a little early for you to be up Little Bird." Said child didn't get to respond for you were already going to answer.

"It is, but he wasn't going back to sleep until he saw you get back," you shook your head at his stubbornness. "Plus he only just got up" you added.

"Well let's put you to bed then," Dick spoke to Aslan. The child wined and shook his head, "but I want to stay up with you."

"Nope you promised your mother that you would go to bed after you saw me, I'll even tuck you in"

Aslan didn't look to happy but nonetheless he agreed.

☆☆♡☆☆♡☆☆♡☆☆♡☆☆♡☆☆

"Goodnight Little Bird"

"Goodnight Lovebug"

As soon as Dick closed the door you turned to him. "Now, what did you want to talk about Dick"

"I- ya'know what nevermind, anyway so I met with Jason-" Dick didn't get to finish his sentence because you were walking away.

"Come on y/n you can't avoid him forever your going to have to tell him he has a kid eventually."

You stopped, you knew this day was coming. You already knew that you had to.

You loved Jason, but you loved your child more. You didn't want Aslan to grow up without a father, but Jason wasn't ready.

He still was killing, the family knew he was trying but not his hardest. There were still murders pointed towards RedHood, Aslan didn't need to grow up with a murderer for a father.

But Dick was right, Jason at least deserved to know he had a kid. And deep down you wanted to hold Jason, hold him in your arms until you both are old and gray. ;)

Snapping you out of your thoughts Dick spoke, "he's been asking about you ya'know, and it's not my place to tell him about Aslan"

Dick stopped waiting for you to yell at him, when you didnt he continued, "I told him I would meet him at midnight tonight in the Harbor Warehouse, instead of me going you go. Tell him about Aslan and everything that's been going on."

You didn't respond, you only stood there silent. A couple seconds passed -ones that felt like eternity- until you spoke, "ok".

If everyone in the house wasn't sleep Dick wouldn't have heard you, but thankfully they were and he heard you.

He let out a lond relieved sigh, "good good, you won't regret it. Remember midnight tonight, Harbor Warehouse"

He hugged you and walked away.

Standing there in there hallway you were regretting your decision. "Oh my God Oh my God Oh my God Oh my God, what did I just agree to".

You sped walked to your room, opened the door, and flopped down on your bed. Sometimes you wished you didn't have Aslan at such a young age, for you yourself still felt like a child.

You wished you could just curl up into a ball and cry into someone like a baby. Not to have so many responsibilities. Not to have to take care of a child. Not to have to patrol every other night to keep the criminals at bay.

It was frustrating and you wish it would all just stop.

☆☆♡☆☆♡☆☆♡☆☆♡☆☆♡☆☆

That night Jason waited anxiously in the warehouse, pacing back and forth under the broken glass ceiling.

Jason was playing with his fingers to substitute for twirling his white hair because he could take off his helmet.

If he wasn't actively starring at the floor he probably wouldn't have caught the shadow jump across the beams holding the broken glass ceiling.

Jason lighting fast reflexes turn his body to face you. You landed 5 or so meters away from him. Neither of you said a word. You still have the same suit you wore when you were both teenagers.

He admired the way your suit hugged your curves, how your cape draped over your shoulders, how your chest had gotten much larger.

You cleared your throat to get his attention. And successfully because not a second later his eyes -or what you assumed to be his eyes- snapped up to meet yours.

Your hand raised to take off your mask and lower your hood. Jason hadn't said a word since you arrived and it was making you more nervous that you'd like to admit.

"Jason?"

Next thing you knew you were being lifted off the ground. Jason had picked you up in a hug, at some point he had taken his helmet off. When you don't recall, but his face was out in the open.

And thats when you lost it. Jason set you down as you broke down in tears, letting all your bundled up emotions over the years out. Your body shook with sobs of sadness, anger, hurt, relief. Honestly you didn't know what you were feeling at this moment but whatever it was overwhelming you and opened the floodgates.

Jason pulled back to look at you. Your cries had calmed down, but a tear would escape every now and then.

This was when you got your first good look at Jason since you were teenagers. Your hand involuntarily moved up to his face, you stopped when Jason flinched back.

After a second or two you continued with your advance. Once your hand reached its destination you mumbled, "Oh Jason..."

"I know," he spoke in a soft voice his eyes trailing to the floor not looking you in the eyes, you had never heard him sound so vulnerable, "I'm disgusting"

"No Jason, never, you're still the handsome man I fell in love with", you said as your hand traced the scar that resembled a 'J' under his left eye.

A single tear left his eye as he looked back at you, the tear not able tofall far for your thumb was there to wipe it away. All while not losing eye contact, you guided his head towards you. He followed your lead and moved his head down infront of your face. You looked towards his scar and brought your lips to place a gentle kiss on it.

"Don't worry, it doesn't hurt anymore"

Your worry must have shown in your eyes. He let out a small chuckle and took hold of the hand still on his face and placed a lingering kissed to your palm.

He then turned you, slowly moving closer. His eyes flickering back and forth from your lips, "can i..." his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, "can I kiss you?"

You nodded your head, not able to get any words out.

"I'm gonna need words sweetheart"

You felt your face heat up, it amazed you how he could still make you flush.

"Yes", you said in the quietest whisper. And with that he closed the small gap between you two.

The kiss wasn't lustful, but sweet and gentle and full of passion. The passion of two lovers separated only to meet again with both equally different lives than before. Passion that was locked away for years only to be opened by the smallest of keys.

You could feel him smile against your lips, and as much as you didn't want to you, pulled away.

"I'm so sorry", you spoke the tears coming back, "I knew it was you the whole time, but I was scared and I-". You were cut off by Jason as he wiped away your tears.

"No I should be the one to apologize, I was a coward. I was afraid that you were gonna be mad at me, and I'm trying I really am. But I just I get so angry and...", he pulled away from the comfort of your embrace walking away. He didn't go to far and stopped only a couple feet away from you, turned away.

You didn't say anything, you only walk up behind him and took him in your arms.

"Jason there's....there's something I need to tell you", you spoke walking around to look him in the eye, "I...I have a kid".

Jason's felt his heart shatter, he backed away from you, a million questions were racing through his brain.

'Who is the father'

'How long before you moved on'

'Was it Dick'

'Is that what he wanted to tell me

You saw the gears turning in him head, you knew how he thought. Without thinking you blurted out the truth before you could think and Jason could run away.

"He's yours!", the words left your mouth before you knew what was happening. Pausing you waited for Jason to say something, when he didn't you looked up at him. His face was void of emotion except for his wide eyes indicating he was shocked.

"Please say something," you were scared. Scared he was going to leave you and leave you and Aslan all alone.

"How far along," Jason spoke after a minute of silence.

"What"

"How far along were you when..." He didn't finish. But you knew what he ment, how far along were you when he died.

You remembered the night you found out. You were so scared, being only 16 you knew your mother would shun you. But you were also somewhat happy, you'd always wanted children, but they were coming sooner than expected. You were also happy to tell Jason, he was always hanging around with the younger kids in Gotham, he was going to be a great father.

You were planning on telling him when he got back from Europe, you were so happy. Weeks passed before you went up to Bruce and asked him what was going on and where Jason was. When he told you the news your heart dropped, later deciding that you wouldn't tell the Wayne's about your pregnancy until you had the baby. This resulted in your temporary absence from Gotham.

"y/n", Jason snapped you out of your thoughts.

"About 2½ months, I only found out when you were away and when Bruce told me what happened I-" you stopped talking knowing that if you continued you would breakdown. Not that you hadn't already, your tears were flowing freely down your face there was no use in trying to stop them.

You hadn't been looking at Jason since he first asked the question, to afraid he would be mad at you for keeping this from him.

He ended up doing quite the opposite, he walked forward and wrapped his arms around you. Encasing you in his strong hold he nestled his face into your neck and mumbled something you couldn't make out.

"Jason I can't hear you"

He pulled away still close enough to hold you in his arms and looked directly into your eyes, it felt as if he was starring straight into your soul.

"What's his name?" Jason spoke a small smile on his face, the same smile he shared with his son.

"Aslan"

Jason's smile only widened, "like th-". You cut him off "yes like the lion, Aslan Jason Todd-Wayne"

"Can I..I...can I see him"

"Yes but he won't be awake for a couple hours" you sent him a smile and kissed him on a scar right above his eyebrow, "for now let start patrol"

☆☆♡☆☆♡☆☆♡☆☆♡☆☆♡☆☆

-May or may not post a part 2 depends

Authors note: YAY ITS FINALLY FINISHED I thought of this when I was half awake before school started. The original plot I dreamt of was-

-y/n: [idk what was said] our son..

-jason: our son? Wdym our son?😧

-y/n: *stutters over words* what? What son? Who's son?🤡

-something wholesome idk

Now I arrived at school and started typing this out on my phone so for the next 5 or so hours I wrote a 2500+ word story on my android 🙃

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todds thighs #red hood x reader #redhood #red hood and the outlaws #the red hood #dc comcis #robin #batman #batman comics #batfamily #batfam #x reader #x female reader #dc x y/n #y/n

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buttercupsandboys · 2 years ago

Text

Sunshine & Rainbows — an Alfie Solomons x original character story — Chapter 1

18+ NSFW - minors don’t interact 🙅🏻‍♀️

MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3

CHAPTER 1: a brightly coloured bird

Word count: 2115

TW: violence and death in a war zone, language typical of Peaky Blinders

Alfie makes a promise he’s not sure he can keep, a fiery redhead visits the bakery, and Thomas fucking Shelby is right around the corner …

France, March 1918

“Fucking hell, mate. You tell a lot of stories, but now I know you’re full of shite.”

“Lad, you’ve never met a girl like my Livy, yeah? Because she’s one of a fucking kind. Like sunshine, right? But she doesn’t fuck around. Hit a man in the chest, dead centre, from four meters out.”

William laughs and reaches into his breast pocket, removing a well-worn photo, and offering it to Captain Solomons for closer inspection.

“I’ve seen your daughter, mate. She’s fucking beautiful, must have your wife to thank, yeah? But fuck me, that angel there? She ain’t never thrown a knife.”

William lifts an eyebrow and goes to return the photo, close to his heart for safekeeping, but Alfie stops him with a firm hand on his shoulder.

He’s already seen the photo at least a hundred times, but fuck—after months in the trenches, ankle-deep in piss, shite, mud, and blood—he wasn’t going to turn down a glimpse of a pretty girl.

William hands it over with a knowing smirk on his face. He was a jovial man, quick with a joke and a hearty laugh that you felt in your bones. Alfie was grateful for his company because he kept the men in good spirits, and that’s as close to a fucking miracle as he’ll ever see, that’s for sure.

But there’s also a darkness about him. Most people miss it behind the broad smile and rosy cheeks, but Alfie isn’t most people. If he was a betting man (which he isn’t), he’d wager good money that William had made a deal with the devil long before the war.

Perhaps that’s why the two got along so well. There was nothing that could truly prepare you for the horror of the trenches, but fuck, some of the lads were barely off their mother’s tit, green as fucking grass. But Alfie had been fighting for survival long before he fought for the Crown, and there’s something reflected in William’s golden eyes that hints at a similar past.

Alfie grunts as he runs his finger along the edge of the photo. Men like them know violence like they know their names—but this angel? As he gently traces the slope of her button nose, he knows for sure that any stories of her flinging fucking knives are simply more of William’s tall tales. Her eyes are too precious, too fucking innocent to even imagine the wicked ways of our world, much less hold an actual fucking weapon.

She probably spends her days chasing rainbows and singing lullabies to small children because fuck. Just look at her.

“Oi, I know what you’re thinking and fuck right off. That girl is too fucking good for a cunt like you.”

“Don’t I know it, mate”, replies Alfie, nodding in agreement.

“I suppose she could do worse….” William slowly turns and wiggles his eyebrows with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How ‘bout I make you a deal? Get us out of here alive, and I’ll take her to see you. You never fucking know; she might like big and stupid.”

Alfie grins at the ridiculous promise. “Right, well, let’s just—“

He’s cut off by a blinding flash of light that barely registers before everything fades to black. The smell of burning flesh floods his nostrils and he’s vaguely aware of a searing pain in his hip, but the mud in his eyes and screams in his ears made it impossible to move or even think.

For a few long seconds that feel like hours, he sits frozen until his finely honed survival instinct kicks in. Alfie pushes himself up and roughly clears the dirt from his face before he notices William lying motionless at his feet.

With a piece of shrapnel the size of a fucking whiskey bottle protruding from his abdomen.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Alfie curses under his breath as he kneels down and takes the older man by the shoulders. He’s seen wounds like this before, and fucking hell, it’s too much blood.

Too much fucking blood, and there’s no coming back from this.

“Alfie …”

He takes a deep breath and fights the urge to lie. He wants to tell him that everything will be just fine, that the docs will fix you right up—but fuck. He has too much respect for the man and the clock is ticking. There's no time left for anything but the truth.

“Listen, mate. You know how this goes, eh?” Alfie replies, his voice firm but quiet.

William tries to speak but chokes before he can get a word out. There’s blood staining his teeth and slowly leaking from the corner of his mouth. Determinedly, he spits at the mud and tries again.

“Olivia. Take care of her. Promise me, Solomons.”

Fucking hell.

Alfie knows better than to make promises in a war zone, promises he’s not sure he’ll be able to keep. He knows he’ll be lucky to get out of here alive, but he finds himself saying the words before he can stop.

“I’ll look out for your girl, mate. Write her a fucking letter and everything. Treat her like a princess, eh? No, that ain’t right. Like a queen, mate. Just like the fucking queen.”

He’s babbling, talking too much because he doesn’t know what the fuck to say, but in the end, it doesn’t matter. The light in those golden eyes has gone out.

Alfie rubs his beard with a heavy sigh. Another good man is gone, and yet for some reason, he’s still here to face another fucking day.

— • — • —

Camden Town, 1921

“Fucking hell. It’s always something, innit?”

Alfie grumbles under his breath as he strides between the barrels, workers parting around him like the Red Sea. There’s some sort of commotion up ahead, near the front of the bakery, and he can hear Ollie squawking like a fucking bird.

He squints his eyes and tries to figure out what the fuck is going on, but the doors are wide open and the bright light is blinding against the dark factory floor. He can only make out flashes of colour— bright red, canary yellow, and emerald green.

He sighs and strokes his beard. What fucking delight awaits him today? Maybe Sabini sent a circus clown to blow up his bakery, you never know with these fucking wops.

Ollie turns at the unmistakable sound of a cane echoing against the floor. “Mr Solomons, I insisted that she leave, but—“

“But what, Ollie?” As his eyes adjust, he realises the mystery visitor is, in fact, a tiny woman with flaming red hair. “Is this brightly coloured bird too much for you, lad?”

He turns before giving the taller man a chance to respond and continues with his rant. “Now look, love, you can’t just go wandering places where you don’t belong, can you treacle? So what the fuck brings you here today, dressed like a fucking peacock, eh?”

He inhales and prepares to launch into a long-winded tirade (because maybe, just possibly, he enjoys the sound of his own voice a bit too much) when suddenly, he stops.

The tiny visitor turns at the sound of his voice, and now Alfie is at a rare loss for words because he knows every fucking inch of the face staring up at him.

The delicate arch of her brows, that precious button nose, and those obscenely plump lips; it’s exactly like her faded photo (which is currently tucked away in the table beside his bed).

Except it’s not because she’s here, in colour, and he thinks this must be what it’s like to see for very the first time. Her cherry red lips, pale creamy skin, and those familiar golden eyes—it’s all too fucking much.

He tries to command his lips into action, but his mouth just opens and closes like a fucking fish.

Ollie takes it all in and looks ready to pass out from shock. He’s never seen Mr Solomons so out of sorts, but then the woman opens her mouth and he nearly chokes.

“Alfie! Hello, darling!” She squeals as she jumps into his arms with delight. “Look at you, just as handsome as I imagined. You know I told all the girls, when I received your letters, that this man must be a magnificent beast. I just knew it, and look at you! Aren’t you something?”

Now Ollie’s eyes are well and truly ready to pop out of his head, and Alfie would tell him to fuck off, but his useless tongue is still refusing to behave.

All because this soft, colourful creature is pressing her full breasts against his chest, practically cooing at him, while stroking the hair at the back of his neck, and he can’t fucking think. She smells like cherries and vanilla, like summer days and sunshine, and he fucking loves it.

He starts to worry that he’ll be stuck like this forever because he’s clearly not functioning. But then he feels her soft lips against his cheek and it goes straight to his cock. (It seems one part of his body is still working as it should.) His heart starts pounding like a teenage boy and, fucking hell, it shocks him into action.

He shakes his head and finally manages to string together a few words. “Olivia? Is that you, love? William’s daughter?”

“See! I knew you’d be expecting me. Shall we have some tea? We’ve got so much to catch up on!”

And with that, she put a gentle yet firm hand on Alfie’s arm, leading him away from the door and into the building, leaving a cloud of rainbows, vanilla, and shocked expressions in their wake.

— • — • —

“I hope it’s not too forward of me to call you Alfie?”

Olivia takes a seat opposite the heavy wooden desk and offers up a grin so wide he’s worried her cheeks will split. Alfie thinks of her father and the promise he made all those years ago.

“It’s just that Daddy spoke of you so often in his letters, it feels as if we know each other already. And if I’m honest, I must admit I’ve never cared much for pleasantries. Life’s too short to be too proper, don’t you think?”

“Suit yourself, love.”

Having regained his facilities, now that there was some distance between them, Alfie was curious about her sudden arrival. “Now what can I do for you, pet? What brings you to Camden Town on this fine morning, eh?”

“Well, your letter Alfie. You did mention that I could call on you, and I must admit that I find myself in need of assistance.”

Before he can open his mouth to reply, the office door flies open with a heavy bang, and in races Ollie, red-faced and out of breath.

“What the fuck—“

“Sir, one of the men reported Thomas Shelby arriving by canal boat. He can’t be far now.”

Alfie groans out loud, dragging a hand down his face. Fuck that gypsy and his fucking impeccable timing.

“Look, Olivia—“

“Livy, darling. My friends call me Livy.”

“Yeah, right. Livy.” God, he loves the way her name rolls off his tongue. And fuck, he wants to bury his face between her thighs and feel her rolling off his tongue, but there’s a fat chance of that happening because he’s about to be a right prick and ask her to leave.

“Look I’m sorry, yeah? Something’s come up, this fucker from Birmingham. It’s not a good time, love.”

“Oh don’t mind me, Alfie! I’ll just make myself comfortable.” She sweeps a hand towards the sofa in the corner. “You won’t even know I’m here.”

Alfie stares for a moment, not sure if she’s being daft or deliberately obtuse. Either way, she needs to get the fuck out before this gypsy cunt arrives.

Too fucking late.

Ollie peeks his head around the corner before reporting back. “Sir, someone’s at the door.”

“Right, well don’t just fucking stand there, yeah? Fuck off, I’ll be down in a minute.”

With a sigh, Alfie moves to the front of the desk and crouches down slightly, reaching for the back of the chair and pulling it forward so he can look her in the eye.

“Listen, Livy, I’ll help you out, love. Anything you need, yeah? But I need you to sit tight for a bit. Just make yourself comfortable, alright pet?”

“Of course, Alfie! Don’t worry darling, I’ll be quiet as a mouse.”

Alfie nods, letting go of the chair and pulling himself to full height. There’s a sparkle in her eyes that’s less than reassuring, but it’s too late to worry now.

Let’s get this the fuck over with.

A/N I’m new to writing fanfic and I don’t really know how to use Tumblr, so feel free to leave any feedback! Chapter 2 is a bit mad and entirely self indulgent, and will be out soon!

#alfie solomons #peaky blinders alfie #Alfie x original character #peaky blinders fandom #tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fic #alfie solomons fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #livy x alfie

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years ago

Text

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥 || dark!tonda x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || everyone in your village spread horrifying rumors about the boys who worked at the mill— called them sorcerers, warlocks, devil-worshippers. maybe if you'd known the rumors were true, you would've thought twice before crossing one of them.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 7k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || smut (noncon due to use of magic), humiliation, unwanted creampie, clit spanking, spitting kink (brief), painful loss of virginity, cockwarming (mentioned), death/murder mention (off-screen), period-typical misogyny (if not significantly less than period-typical it's fucking 1650), a slap, another dude being super creepy to the reader, period-typical descriptions of servitude, brief 'master' kink, some mild religious references, accepting candy from strangers

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - obviously this does not require any knowledge of the book or film, though references are made to it that you'll get if you have consumed either. I used some brief, reconstructed upper sorbian just to be needlessly period- and region-accurate; lubosč is a basic term of endearment like 'darling' or 'sweetheart' and mały kurwa means 'little whore' lmao so yeah you have those to look forward to... oh, and a 'stay' is the medieval predecessor to the corset. sorry for the long-ass note lol

You tightened the laces of your stay until it was just the right fit— snug enough to hold your back straight, but not so restrictive that you wouldn’t be able to breathe right while working today. And there was plenty of work to be done today.

Firstly, the floor needed to be swept and scrubbed, then the tankards that had been soaking overnight needed to be dried before the first patron came in requesting mead or ale, and then after that it was just the usual barmaid tasks: keeping tables clean, keeping customers happy, and keeping the kegs stocked with booze.

The first half of the day went on without anything of note happening; in a town like this, there really weren’t ever ‘new’ customers, just a rotating list of regulars, so you knew what to expect.

It was all quite predictable, in fact: Korla, the man who owned the bakery and the big house on the hill, always ordered two ales and tried to make you listen to him brag about his wealth— but at least he always left you a few coins on the table when he left, the most beneficial way for him to show off to you. Handrij, a younger man with dark brown hair cut close to his scalp, hardly looked at you while you served him and his friends— Jan, Jakub, and another whose name you could never remember— and liked to dramatically order rounds for the whole pub when he’d had a bit too much himself.

And Jurij, the leatherworker who tended to be overdressed for a place like this, always gave you more of his spare change if you let him touch you just a little bit too much without making a face or telling him to piss off. You needed the money today, so you bit your tongue while you were cleaning his table and he ran the back of his fingers over your forearm, exposed by your rolled-up sleeve. “You’re such a pretty girl,” he cooed at you, “it’s a shame to see you working this hard.”

It took real willpower not to roll your eyes when he said that, but you just kept leaning over the table to wipe it with your rag, nearly shuddering visibly when he gently grabbed your arm instead and started to stroke your skin lightly with his thumb.

“Don’t you think you’ll ever get married?” he pressed.

“Why should I?” you smirked. “At least now I’m getting paid to clean up after a man.”

He laughed a bit, and even though part of you would’ve been relieved if he was offended and left you alone, at the same time you were relieved now that you weren’t going to lose out on your tip for saying that. “You’re a bit cynical, I see. But I don’t mind that— I think it’s good that a girl sees things for what they are, not just what she wishes they should be. A lot of girls your age are caught up in fancy and merriment, but not you: you’re practical.”

Did he really think insulting other girls would be a compliment? Did he really think you cared what he did or didn’t mind? “I try to be,” you answered flatly, hoping to bore him enough that he’d give up.

Having finished cleaning the table, you tried to pull back but his grip on your arm tightened, tugging you closer to him. “Hey,” he corrected quietly, “don’t go yet.”

“I have to—” you began to explain, looking to your side where more tables needed to be wiped down.

“Shh,” he interjected, his other hand pulling your face back to look at him again, “there’s nobody else here. You don’t need to serve anyone.”

You hadn’t actually noticed that he was the only one in the pub with you, and it made you want to squirm in his grip, though you resisted the urge.

“Anyone but me, that is,” he added, voice a little lower. You understood, then, that ‘there’s no one here for you to serve’ really meant ‘there’s no one here to stop me.’

His grip on your arm tightened again, almost painfully so, before he started to lean in closer to your face— like he was trying to stop you from getting away before you even tried. The hand on your face moved back to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, his chin tilting up with his crooked grin as he stared you down.

“You would make a good little wife, I think,” he hummed. “Sure, you like your independence now, but I think you’d like being married, too— someone to take care of you…”

He leaned in even closer, to speak right in your ear after he’d kissed it lightly.

“Someone to belong to…” he added with a whisper, kissing you again on your cheek, and just below where your ear met your neck, as you wished more than anything to get away. You already belonged to someone— the pub owner, and while he was stern at times, he was a just master and you would rather not anger him by delaying your work any longer.

“I-I don’t—” you stammered, struggling against Jurij’s grasp again.

“Shh,” he soothed, “don’t be rude, lubosč, I just want to show you how beautiful you are…”

Just as Jurij opened his mouth wider to suck gently on your neck, the front door swung open and you both pulled back slightly in shock.

A group of boys had dashed in, and though you didn’t recognise their faces, you knew who they were just by the way they were dressed and the air of foreignness— of unsettling strangeness itself— that seemed to follow them in.

The boys from the mill. The ones that made everyone uncomfortable each time they came into town for essentials. The ones that were said to practice unspeakable evil in their secretive mill, closed completely to all outsiders, even though no one really had much proof past old folk tales.

They were generally considered unsavory customers, and your master had forbidden you from serving them, but right now, they were your saviors.

The boy that seemed to lead them— he was walking in front, and he’d been the one who was talking when they all saw you and Jurij and everyone fell into uncomfortable silence— gave you a little smirk beneath his stubbly beard as he observed the situation you were in. Shame burned on your face as he looked at you, and you looked back at him. Jurij was looking at him, too; glaring at him as if he’d interrupted a private moment. But the boy only stared back at you, and though his face was somewhat neutral, you saw his judgment… or maybe it was just that him looking at you made it impossible not to judge yourself.

As the boys moved along and took their place at one of the empty tables, you cleared your throat and finally wrenched yourself out of Jurij’s relaxed grasp.

“I should get back to work,” you mumbled awkwardly, scuttering away to get behind the bar and furiously scrub some tankards to look busy.

Unfortunately, the group of new customers didn’t seem to pick up on the implications of your ignorance. “Barmaid?” the one you’d made unwanted eye contact with before called out, waving outward to try to catch the corner of your eye, which he did. “Miss?”

You frowned and sighed, but walked to their table, standing beside it and staring at them silently as they each looked back at you.

Although they were young, and at present acting generally harmless, they did still intimidate you slightly just for sitting there. Especially the leader, who seemed to see more than he necessarily let on; he had his curls of sandy-blonde hair pulled back into a small tail, and a few smears of soot dirtying his cheeks and forehead. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I want to drink?” he wondered, smiling a bit like he already knew the answer and was just harassing you with his question.

“No, and I think it would be better if you left,” you answered.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

You decided just to ignore his tone, and humor his feigned confusion. “Barkeep says we don’t serve your kind here.” You felt a little guilty, and a little scared, when he glared at you. “His words, not mine.”

“And what kind would that be, specifically?” he asked, raising his brow as if to challenge you.

“Mill boys,” you answered confidently. “You know everyone thinks you’re Satanists. They think you hide there to learn your dark magic… it scares them.”

He sat up a little taller, spoke a little quieter. “Are you scared of me?”

“No,” you shrugged, “I’m more worried you’re gonna stiff me than curse me. A poor mill boy can’t afford to tip, anyhow.”

That seemed to hit him harder than accusations of witchcraft had. “I didn’t expect you to be so inhospitable,” he snapped. “You seem to be quite accommodating with your other patrons.”

The other boys snickered and you swallowed thickly, hating that they’d seen you letting Jurij all but feel you up, but that was different. It was just for a better tip; you weren’t just some floozy barmaid who let customers get handsy for the thrill of it. “I’ve asked you to leave,” you reminded them firmly. “If my master finds you here, he won’t ask.”

There was a pregnant pause before the leader stood up from his seat with a reluctant sign, and the others quickly followed. Quietly, they filed out and started to leave, but apparently the curly-haired blonde wasn’t quite done with you yet. You gasped as his hand grabbed your sleeve at the shoulder and pulled you close to him. “Tell your master that his prejudices might give him trouble someday,” he growled at you, “and that his bar girl should remember her place.”

He let you go roughly, shoving you back slightly so that you stumbled for a moment, and in a flurry of silent rage the boys were gone from whence they came.

Thankfully, the rest of the night went off without a hitch after that, although you were so shaken up that you took the liberty to close the bar early. After some more cleaning and preparations to open tomorrow, you finally took a deep sigh and scanned the empty pub, checking for anything else that needed to be done before you could get to bed for the night.

Thankfully, your quarters were just down the hall; since your full-time dedication as your master’s servant was to upkeep the pub, you simply lived in a small room in the back with a cot and oil lamp. You had one purpose, and though it was simple, you took pride in it. It was no wonder, then, that you felt yourself smile slightly as you appreciated your day’s work and admired the spotless room, every surface cleaned and waxed, each tankard and keg carefully cleaned, each table arranged exactly perpendicular to each wall and each chair upturned and placed on it.

In fact, you were the only dirty thing left in the room; so, with a wipe of the sweat off your forehead with the back of your rag-laden hand, you retired for the evening, beginning to untie your apron on the way to your room.

Your eyes landed quickly on the one thing you didn’t expect: a small fruit tart on your table, one clearly left by a visitor while you’d been at work.

You beamed as you saw the snack beside your bed, laid on a cloth napkin. There wasn’t any note to indicate from whom it might be, not that that would’ve been much help to you considering you’d never been taught to read. Besides, it was quite obvious that it was a gift from your master’s wife: she occasionally brought you extra food from the dinner table, though rarely something as nice as this. Having gone most of your shift without eating at all, you were happy to hop onto your bed and chow down.

Perhaps it was worth savoring, but you didn’t have the time or self-control to do that, especially once you tasted the first bite and involuntarily moaned to yourself at the delicious sweetness. You decided you’d find time to thank Cecilija for the kind gift in the morning, because she was likely already gone to sleep for the night.

As you shamelessly licked your fingers after finishing the last bite, even using your wetted finger to pick up every crumb from atop your blanket, you heard a rushed and heavy knock at the door— not your room, the front door of the pub.

Furrowing your brow in confusion, you waited a moment until you heard another one to get up and start re-tying your apron strings on the way back. “Who is it?” you called out as you exited the back hall and approached the front door, getting no answer.

Thinking it to be your master (most likely and best case scenario), or Jurij claiming to have left something behind even though you’d scrubbed the whole place down on your hands and knees and knew for a fact that wasn’t possible (less likely and slightly concerning to imagine), you swung open the door and gasped at the sight of the boy you’d turned away before. “You know, I don’t think I ever actually introduced myself,” he greeted with a tilted smirk, “my name is Tonda. What’s yours?”

You’d heard that telling a sorcerer your true name was dangerous, gave him greater chance to control you with magic. You remained silent and he laughed a bit.

“Right, can’t be too safe in times like this,” he relented. “Wouldn’t want to go around giving supposed warlocks the chance to cast their devil-magic on you.” He wiggled his fingers at you as if to pantomime a silly spell.

His brow raised, though, when you lifted your tongue inside your mouth to suckle at your teeth.

“Did you already eat the tart?” he asked, and your stomach dropped. He must’ve seen it on your face; he laughed coldly as he stepped inside right as you stepped back. “You won’t give me your name but you’ll eat any treat you just… find lying around. Gluttony is a sin, didn’t any church elders tell you that while they were lecturing about how you need to fear the Satan-worshippers from the mill?”

“I— I thought—” you stammered weakly over your defense, but he heard none of it, only sneering at you as he slammed the door behind himself.

“You shouldn’t’ve been so rude earlier,” he explained darkly. “It’s a shame you don’t know how to treat paying customers— someone really should’ve taught you some manners.”

“It wasn’t my idea,” you defended, “my master told me not to—”

“Apologise to me.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurted before you could stop it. Why had you said that? You weren’t even sorry, really, though you did feel a bit bad for him.

“Hmm, I think you should be more effusive than that, you need to really grovel,” he decided, smirking proudly to himself.

“I think you need to go back to where you came from and get the hell away from me!” you shouted back.

"Shut up and get on your knees," he demanded, and instantly you fell to kneel before him— you couldn't stop it, couldn't fight it, couldn't even question it, you just did it.

He laughed a cold, hollow laugh as he looked down at you. "Are you trying to get up? Don't resist the magic, it'll injure you if you try too hard."

You believed that, unfortunately: you could feel the threat of pain around the edges of everything, like an aura that would shock or prick you if you moved outside of his will. And you couldn’t speak, because he’d told you to shut up.

Your eyes started to burn with fresh tears as you realised your fatal mistake; some would say your mistake was eating the tart without questioning too thoroughly where it had really come from, but you knew you were doomed long before then. This somewhat-unassuming peasant boy really was the warlock all the village people claimed he and his fellow mill workers were, and from the moment you’d refused to serve him, he made it his mission to humiliate and punish you. Sooner or later, he would’ve found a way to get to you— though it was embarrassing that it ended up being so much sooner.

“Now,” he began again, “I think you’re ready to apologise to me properly. Start by saying you’re sorry for being so disrespectful.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeated soberly, “for being so disrespectful.”

“Hmm, I’m sure you are,” he nodded, stroking his chin as he stared down at you kneeling on the floor, “but you’re just not sorry enough quite yet. Get up.”

You rose to your feet quickly, though you lost your balance as he pushed you back: he didn’t push you very hard at all, it was probably almost no effort for him, but it was hard enough to send you stumbling backward until you caught yourself on the edge of a table, between two chairs stacked on it, leaning against it for support.

He stalked forward and cornered you against it as you shrunk away instinctively, though you couldn’t stop him from pressing his body up against yours. You looked away but he demanded that you look up at him and, without any choice, you did. “I’m going to teach you a lesson,” he promised, cold but firm.

“Y-you can’t,” you stammered, “my master will be back soon, and he’ll—”

“He’s already been dealt with,” Tonda interrupted with a snarl. “I’m your master now.”

He didn’t give you any time to process either of those realisations before he gave you first command, speaking right by your ear as his fingers began to push your dress off your shoulder delicately.

"Spread your legs for me," he whispered, "and lift up your skirts, nice and slow."

Against every desire that begged you not to, you sat back on the table and propped your legs up on it as you spread them wide, beginning to gather up your apron and skirt while he leaned back slightly to watch you with a bemused smirk.

The fabric sliding over your legs made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, your heart beating faster with every inch higher you moved your dress. He hummed and ran his hand over your leg; you wished more than anything to kick away from his touch, but the magic was there, waiting, threatening to hurt you if you disobeyed.

Finally you held your dress up to your hips; a draft in the room was uncomfortably cool on your unprotected legs, but it wasn’t the only reason a chill ran up your spine.

He grinned at you with crooked, rotted teeth, and you hardly managed to swallow down your grimace. Being exposed so lewdly made a sick feeling tingle in the pit of your stomach and, oddly, made further wetness gather at your entrance.

“Oh, mały kurwa,” he mocked, “do you enjoy showing me your pussy?”

“N-no,” you choked out your reply, even though you weren’t exactly in a place to deny it when he could see the proof of your arousal.

“Perhaps I should’ve cursed that tart to make you honest as well as obedient,” he joked. “Loosen your stay.”

With a swallowed whimper, you reached behind your back and untied the bow, loosening the strings until you could take it off— and the apron with it— such that you were left only in your chemise. Finally he did something himself: he stepped forward and grabbed the garment at the neck, snarling as he roughly tore the front open and exposed your chest. He kept his eyes trained right on yours as he roughly groped your breasts, his hands hot and calloused and entirely too brutal on your delicate skin.

For your credit, you tried to put on a brave face; you just looked back up at him and tried not to look shy and scared, because that seemed to be exactly what he wanted. When he’d asked you before, hardly half a day since now but so long ago, if you were scared of him… he wanted you to be. But you refused to be.

He sensed it. And it angered him. “You think you’re better than me,” he sneered, pausing his assault to grab you by the torn collar of your chemise.

“No, that’s not—” you denied.

“Some peasant bitch and you think you’re better than me?” he continued anyway. “What, just because you’re clean and you’ve got some cushy servant’s job working the bar and letting any old creep feel you up for a tip? You’re not gonna be clean anymore when I’m done with you… you’ll remember your place after I dirty you up a bit.”

You decided not to disagree with him anymore, since it just seemed to anger him further. He let go of your collar and stood up straight with his arms crossed smugly.

“Take my cock out,” he demanded. Instantly, your plan not to disagree was dashed.

“No, please,” you spoke quickly, though you were only barely managing to stop your arm from reaching out to do it.

“Don’t test me!” he warned sharply. “Don’t make me say it again, either.”

With a little grunt, you gave up your fight against the curse controlling your body and reached forward, slipping a hand into his trousers and almost yelping when you felt his hard member bump against your palm. You used one hand to hold it, trying not to think about what you were doing, while the other tugged his trousers down.

Well, it was hard not to think about what you were doing when you could see it, thick and veiny and flexing against your grip. You sighed as he stepped forward, suddenly pulling your hips closer to the edge of the table.

“W-wait,” you pleaded quickly, but he ignored you completely as he pushed your hand aside and suddenly speared himself right into you, making you yelp and grip the edge of the table hard enough to carve the shape of your fingernails into it.

“Fuck, are you a virgin?” he breathed. “Or, were you a virgin?”

You bit your lip to try to stop from crying, nodding quickly.

“Oh, good girl,” he grinned, leaning in to bury his face against your neck as he began to move. You sobbed and reached up to push at his shoulders, desperate to make him stop.

But he hadn’t commanded you to stop fighting, not yet; he wasn’t wielding his paranormal, Satanic power over you anymore… just his physical strength, just his power over you as a man who had a woman pinned to a table and could do anything he wanted to her and get away with it. “You’re hurting me,” you informed him shakily between your pained cries.

He let you beat on his back for a while, tug on his tunic and claw at his shoulders, before he finally lost his patience and grabbed you by the wrists, pinning you down to the table.

He made a point of thrusting even deeper, grinding his hips up against the back of your thighs each time he was completely inside you, and you let out a long cry every time. “Stop, please!” you begged.

“God, what a precious fucking cunt you’ve got,” he praised roughly, letting his head fall back for a moment as he sped up yet again. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You were only such a bitch to me before because you wanted me to ruin you, right? Admit it.”

“I was only such a bitch because I wanted you to ruin me,” you agreed against your will.

He kept you repeating after him for ages, and as awful as it was, at least it gave you something to do to distract you from the pain.

I wanted you to fuck me, Tonda, I wanted you inside me— this is all I wanted, for you to come back and make me yours. I just needed your cock to make me a pathetic, sobbing, drooling mess…

When he tired of that, he moved on thoroughly abusing your breasts, pinching and tugging your nipples until they were so hard they were sore, then suckling on them eagerly while you tried not to notice that it actually felt rather nice. Each time his tongue swiped over a sensitive bud, your walls clenched around his cock and he smiled against your skin, taunting you for giving yourself away. “The pain must’ve gone by now,” he decided, “it feels good, doesn’t it? You like it.”

Though he was right, in a last play for your dignity, you shook your head; all that got you was him pulling away from sucking on your nipples to frown and slap you across the face.

"Say you love it," he growled.

"I love it," you repeated through your teeth.

"Tell me that you love the way I fuck you."

"I—" you choked on it, trying more than anything not to say the rest of it but failing quickly, "I love the way you fuck me…"

"I can tell, you're gripping on to me so tight— you like it, wench? You like being fucked like the dirty fucking slut you are?”

"I hate you!" you spat.

"But you can't answer my question," he noticed with a grin. "It's all right, you don't need to be ashamed. It's okay to like it. After all, I like fucking you like the dirty fucking slut you are. I love the way your sweet, innocent little pussy feels, so warm and soft inside."

He leaned down to speak quieter and closer to you, staring right at your face.

"I love seeing this cute body take my cock so deep. I love watching your tits bounce and your cunt stretch out wide to fit me: it feels good, you're so, so good…"

The praise shot straight through your body like a lightning bolt, making your back arch up off the table and your toes curl inside your shoes. Pleasure was building and you had no idea what to do with it— you'd never felt anything like this before, and it felt like it was powerful enough to consume you if you let it.

"Tell me that you want to be good for me," he instructed you.

"I want to be good for you, I want to do whatever you say," you moaned, and he let out a deep noise of raw, primal pleasure while he started to really slam into you, brutally claiming your body for himself.

"Look up at me and open your mouth, little girl, stick your tongue out," he grunted his demand, looking down at you with dark eyes as you obeyed. He pursed his lips and spit right into your waiting mouth, growling for you to swallow which you did quickly to get it over with.

As disgusting as it was, somehow it made your body writhe harder beneath him, his cock inside you stirring something deep and painfully intense.

"Stop trying to hold it back," he ordered with a low voice, and unfortunately it was not only his magic that made the command impossible to resist. "I can feel how much you want to come for me. Go on, then, and do it— come."

You couldn't be sure then if it was his curse that made the dam within you break and your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, but at a certain point, it didn't really matter. You cried out loudly, struggling under the grip of his hands pinning you down, and felt everything within you tense up all at once. Just barely past your own screams you could hear him moaning at how tight you'd become, and just beyond the tingling numbness inside you you could feel him fucking you even faster.

All your strength left you and your body went limp on the table, moved only by his thrusts rocking you back and forth. He laughed, though the sound was strained from his own exhaustion, as he admired your total surrender. "I knew you'd like it, just had to help you learn how to take it," he informed you, glancing down at where your bodies were joined with a little sigh. "You're fucking dripping, kurwa, you're making a mess on this floor you just cleaned."

Sadly, you believed him completely; you could hear the sound of your own wetness echoing lewdly around the empty room. You yelped a bit, your body weakly jolting, when he reached down to pinch your swollen clit.

"Come on, I wanna feel you come again," he purred.

"I can't," you breathed, "I— oh!"

He'd given you a spank right on your clit, hence the gasp, and when he gave you another your legs began to quiver. "Hurry up," he demanded impatiently as he kept hitting you, "I wanna feel it one more time before I'm finished."

There was something enticing about that: the idea that he might be done soon and leave you to your shame. It already felt like he'd been using you for ages and you just wanted to soak in the bath and try to convince yourself it never happened. You couldn't have known, yet, that just because he'd finish didn't mean he'd be done with you quite yet.

Though it reawakened a deep soreness, and took more energy from you than you knew you had, with enough encouragement and brutal stimulation to your clit, you came again— with a whimper rather than a scream.

"Fuck," he cursed as he felt your channel pulse once again, "you're gonna milk my cock, little barmaid— is that what you wanted? You want to milk my cock?"

Your eyes shot open as you realised where that 'milk' was bound to end up. "No—" you began with a gasp, but he interrupted immediately.

"Oh, don't play innocent, I know you want my come in you," he mocked, "I know you want it deep in this dirty fucking cunt."

"N-no, pull out, please," you whimpered, choking on a sob when you saw his grin and knew he was going to ignore your plea. "Tonda, please!"

He leaned down to speak right against your ear, still smiling smugly. "Beg me to come inside you," he instructed mockingly.

"Please, come inside me," you heard your voice obey, "please— I need every drop of your seed within me, I need you so desperately…"

"You can be even more pathetic than that, come on, get creative!" he encouraged.

"I'm nothing without your come, master, please!" you spoke suddenly, compelled by the magic but ultimately coming up with some of it all on your own. "Give me so much that I never forget who I belong to, I know I don't deserve it but please, please come inside me!"

"Such a faithful servant you are," he groaned, releasing one of your wrists so he could use the hand to grab at your breasts again instead, "and you'll get your reward— you'll get your master's come, just stay still and take my gift…"

You shut your eyes tight, biting down on your tongue to stop from sobbing, as he moved faster and more erratically while his cock started to flex against your channel. He moaned loudly, squeezing your wrists where he kept them pinned by your head, and finally you knew he was coming inside you when you felt a new kind of heat spread in your core and start to drip from your opening. You sobbed near-silently, eyes shut tight, as he slowed his movements to a stop and breathed heavily.

"Look up at me," he pleaded softly, and you blinked open your eyes and turned your head to see him— face stained with soot and sparkling with sweat— staring back at you darkly. "You're so good, my pretty little servant, you did so very good for me."

"I—" you began.

"Say 'thank you'," he prompted, "'for teaching me.'"

"Thank you," you repeated with a defeated sigh, "for teaching me."

"You're a quick learner— no wonder your master was so unwilling to give you up," Tonda shook his head.

With a small groan he pulled out of you, and you instantly felt a gush of hot, sticky wetness pour out of you: the only thing worse than the physical feeling of it was the metaphysical feeling of his eyes on you, watching your abused hole leak out his seed.

You tried to close your legs but he stopped you with his hands, kneeling down to get a closer look. "I really stretched you out, hm?" he mumbled, mostly to himself.

"Can't you just leave?" you groaned, and he stood up again.

"What? Why would I do that?"

"You've done the deed, you can go and let me bathe and sleep," you posited.

He smiled, almost giving you a look of pity, as he pulled you up by your arms— you were so weak he had to keep holding your waist to keep you sitting up. "I can," he agreed, "but why would I leave when I've got such an obedient servant right here?"

He leaned in to kiss your cheek, and your neck, as new tears began to fall down your numb face.

"I have a feeling you're gonna ask me to take you again before the night is through," he chuckled.

"Do I have to do what you say forever?" you wondered aloud.

"Yes," he answered, moving to kiss your neck.

"Just because of a blasted tart?!"

He chuckled again as he held the back of your head, sucking lightly on your pulse before standing up straight to look down at you again. "No, not because of the tart— I'm not quite that powerful. The curse will wear off eventually, probably by the end of the night,” he explained, “but there are other ways to make you obey, some much more effective than black magic.”

“Please, don’t hurt me,” you whimpered, shuddering at his laugh.

“Oh, I don’t have to,” he shook his head. “I can just remind you that your master is dead and you’ll starve without someone to serve who can feed you.”

You swallowed thickly, saying the smallest prayer in your mind for your master, hoping that he hadn’t suffered too greatly at the hands of this evil sorcerer that held you close to him now.

“Or,” he continued, “I could threaten that if you try to run from me, that I’ll let any of the boys at the mill have their way with you.” He smiled darkly as you whimpered at the suggestion. “Nearly two dozen young men who’ve been locked away from the world for years.... they’ll tear you apart,” he added with a wistful sort of look in his eye— he was imagining it, you realised with disgust. "So, as long as you behave, all you have to do is serve me. I think it's a pretty favorable deal, if I'm honest."

He could make you say yes, agree to anything; he could make you sign your life away. But he didn't use the curse to force you, waiting instead for your true answer.

Not that you exactly had a choice. For all his deception, he was being truthful in expressing that he was your only hope. A servant with no master is doomed, and after he'd defiled you your village would probably banish you not only for losing your maidenhead but for it being taken by a dreaded mill body— shit, they'd probably burn you at the stake, now that you thought about it, if they knew he'd put his seed in you and thought you might be carrying the spawn of Satan.

So you gave in to him, and somehow it was more humiliating than ever— because at least the first time, you had no choice but to do what he commanded, but now… now you had no curse to blame. "Yes," you breathed, looking up at him with watery eyes, "I'll be your servant."

He had you change into untorn clothes and pack your things— of which there were few— and follow him back through the dark forest to the mill where he showed you his bedroll: he couldn't give you another of your own so you were meant to share. You recognized a few of the other boys; you shuddered to feel their eyes on you, hoping they didn't notice the way you had to limp… not that it wouldn't be obvious what Tonda had done to you either way.

You didn't sleep that night: it was much too hot pressed up to his body under the thick wool blanket with his arm draped over your chest, though somehow you were shivering violently as well. You didn't sleep because you were afraid to dream; if you dreamt of freedom, of the life you had before, of any fate but this, it would be too cruel to wake up and remember you belonged to a sorcerer who intended to use you only for his own pleasure. It would be too cruel to have to open your eyes and see the gray stone walls— nothing like the soft wood of your quarters at the pub— and know you could never leave this place.

Tonda stirred and awoke after a few hours, pulling you closer drowsily but waking more when he realized you were wide awake. "Why aren't you sleeping?" he whispered under his breath, right by your ear.

"I can't," you whispered back.

"I can help you," he offered, "there are spells to make you—"

"No," you interjected quickly, "please, I don't want to sleep."

You felt him smile against your ear as he turned you onto your back. "Is there something else you want to do?" he asked coyly as he carefully climbed on top of you, slotting his body between your legs.

"Wait," you gasped, knowing you were still horribly sore.

"Ask me to fuck you," he instructed, and to be totally honest, you couldn't tell if the curse was still on you; did it really matter?

"Fuck me, Tonda, please," you whispered shakily.

His come was still leaking out of you from before, leaving your thighs slick yet sticky, and you shuddered when his cock slid over your folds with such ease.

Ease, however, was the last thing that came to mind just a moment later when he entered you. You yelped sharply when he pushed forward and gave you all of it at once— it stung so painfully to be torn open again by his cock, you couldn't help it. He grunted and clapped his hand down over your mouth, whispering in your ear. "You have to be quiet, you don't want to wake the others, do you?"

But you probably already had; they were probably listening now, hearing the blanket shift and your labored breathing and his skin rubbing against yours. They probably knew exactly what he was doing to you, and you tried not to imagine what they might do with that knowledge.

He kissed your tears away as they fell down your temples, cooing quiet praises to you, calling you his servant as often as he felt you needed to be reminded.

But you didn't need to be reminded, you knew damn well that you were trapped and owned. You'd never forget it, not with him forging a new path inside you again and promising to keep you full to the brim with his seed every chance he could get.

He made a lot of promises, actually: promises to keep you safe in exchange for your devotion, promises to pleasure you ("Not that it's any trouble, you're so sensitive and submit to me so easily," he felt the need to add mockingly), promises to keep you in his bed for days on end, promises to train you into the perfect servant.

And to his credit, he kept all of his promises. He proved to be somewhat… unpredictable; emotional, even. Some days he was rough and careless with you, taking whatever he needed, ignorant to your pain. Other days, and much more frequently, he seemed to crave your love even more than your body. He liked to whisper to you, telling you to say that you loved him, right as he filled you; sometimes he didn't even fuck you, just sliding himself inside you and telling you to keep him warm for the night.

He never did curse you to do his bidding again, but you were susceptible to his magic in other ways— some mundane, some rather lewd. But it wasn't quite witchcraft that made you learn to care for him, with time. It wasn't quite love, either, but something eerily similar.

It felt like love, sometimes; after a while, he stopped calling you his servant and started calling you his wife. Not that he treated you much different either way. At least he didn't make you wash clothes or work a farm or raise a hundred babies— frankly, you had more freedom than the average wife, in the end. A little less than the average maidservant, though. You weren't permitted to do much without him, and you only ever left the mill with your hand held tightly in his.

Once, the two of you even visited the nearby village together; you vaguely remembered it as once being your own.

You visited the pub. It was under new ownership. And this time, even though they cast a hateful glance at the devil-worshippers still, they served you.

#tonda x reader #krabat #dark!tonda x reader #daniel brühl x reader #daniel brühl dark fic

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crystalcow · 3 years ago

Text

𝑆𝑎𝑝𝑛𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑//𝑆𝑎𝑝𝑛𝑎𝑝 𝑝𝑡 4

Masterlist // child reader ML //

Sapnap x reader !p !child reader

Pronouns used: none specified!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, casinos

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝗼𝐤𝗼 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝗼𝐰??

Quackity was telling you all of his plans

He rambled on for hours of his ideas for casinos and how he was going to marry Karl and sapnap

It sounded great

He had his whole plan set up! He even had Sam helping him with the building

But then he left

Just like everyone else

But that was fine! You were just with sapnap

Before Karl came running over rambling on about needed to move his library

He had a library?

“[Redacted] you need to stay close, please”

You looked at him weirdly

Who the fuck was [redacted]

“Karl my names Y/n you idiot” “flame..” “sorry”

He didn’t even notice it and then you had to spend the next couple days hauling over 100 books

“Oo hey what are these! The covers look really weird”

You had found his time travel books

Woops

That man raced over and in the kindest way possible, snatched it from your hands

“Don’t touch those, they are my special books”

You just shrugged and let him be, he freaks you out enough

So you all traveled to this area in the spruce forest and built a really ugly mushroom hut

But hey it’s fine! Foolish thankfully came around later that day and made everything better

So you stuck around

Maybe you needed this, this new start

Oh but prime knows that wouldnt last long

Karl started forgetting

At first it was simple things as just forgetting where he was or little stumbles with names

But eventually he was going away longer and longer

He started calling you by these strange names, some that sound Victorian and western and others that are unlike you

One day he didn’t call you by your name at all

You were hanging around the Sakura trees and the big yin Yang pond waiting for sapnap to come back with George

Then you saw Karl exit the library, running up to him for a hug

It’s been two months since you’ve seen him

You fucking hated it but you couldn’t help but consider him another parental figure

He loved it

But he just stood there as you wrapped your arms around him

Expecting the usual “[reda]- Y/n, I’ve missed you so much my sweet flame!”

But there was nothing just a sad one sided hug

“Hello? I’m sorry but do I know you?”

You were ready to cry

“I’m sorry, I uh must’ve mistaken you for the wrong person” “No that’s fine! Hugs are nice?”

So you left and ran into the library

Scouring throughout all of the books until you found them

The same 8 books you shrugged away

You read through all of them along with Karl’s other journals

You didn’t like going through his stuff especially, a whole invasion of privacy

The more you read the worse it got

What were you gonna tell Sapnap?

Who the hell is James, and [redacted]?

And why couldn’t he stop

It’s no use anymore

You were simply just forgotten

𝐋𝗼𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐬

The closer you got to the large building, the sicker you got

Kinoko Kingdom was supposed to be your free pass

But somehow you always end up here

You called for Sam on the comms waiting for the beep

The inside looked great to say the least

“What are your past relationships with the prisoner?” “No answer.”

“Where are you currently resided?” “No answer”

“Do you believe the prisoner deserves his sentence?” “Maybe”

You put all your shit in the locker and followed him through all the safety checks

“I’m glad you didn’t bring anything with you”

You stood on the platform heart racing as the lava went down

It was like a ticking time bomb

The small squeaks and scratches of the hovering bridge

He just stared at you

That sick stupid mask was broken by tommy that day in the black stone room

So you had to look into his face

Lets just say he looks good in Orange

“Barrier up or down?” “Down”

He backed up into the corner as you stepped in

Smiling

Once the lava cascaded down your smile turned into a sick frown

“Hello” is that all he had to fucking say?

“Screw you. Fuck you. Damn you”

He just looked you a small chuckle escaping from his lips

“Those all mean the same thing.” “Well I’ve been living in cinnamon town for the past couple months, and I’m ready to fucking burn some buns”

Yeah he just laughed

“I’ve missed you Hot shot”

“You ruined our damn life!”

Someone went quiet

“If you didn’t have to have a petty little war, or criminalize children we could’ve been fine! It could’ve just been you, dad, me, and George.”

You were pissed, everyone just kept leaving you.

Tommy and Tubbo, Quackity, Karl, Dream, and hell even Wilbur

“You come and visit me, after not having seen me for months and you just yell? Not a hello or ‘how are you dream?’ ‘How’s prison dream’ ‘how can I help you get out of this damn place’ “

You just sat down ready to just walk out into the lava

“I’ve been stuck here for months! None of you even cared enough to visit me, hell even Tommy came around.”

You might have felt a little bad after leaving him

The prison was cold even tho lava was flowing right there

“Why would you leave the discs alone..” “Because I had to end it.”

What were you doing here

What were you planning on saying?

“So, what do you do in prison”

“I have a clock.”

You got up to go look at the pretty clock

Then threw it at his face

“Ow” “deal with it bitch”

The longer you stayed the worse the feeling in your stomach got

so you buzzed for Sam waving goodbye

“Wait.. Do they miss me?” “Can’t say, but I think this may be for the best.”

He wanted his best friends

But he just got the annoying teenager

Oh but that wouldn’t be the last

𝐋𝐚𝐬 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐬

You got a letter in the mail one day

Who the hell uses letters??

You were shocked to see the address and the small post card

“Come around some time”-Quackity

Ans on the back it had the cords

Oh well what did you have to loose? Sapnap was focused on Karl

and well Karl didn’t even know you

So you set off

It took you a couple hours travel by horse to get to the desert area

The large sign blaring in the red text

You gotta admit the place looked beautiful

There was a giant dick and different shops

You were shocked to see this random un human like guy

“Hello, I am Charlie a totally human guy!”

Yeah totally not slime

“I’m uh, Y/n?” He reached out for a handshake sort of thing

“Dap me up!” “Another time Charlie”

Maybe when you had hand sanitizer

“Ohh so your Y/n! Mister Quackity talks about you all the time, come on in!”

You were skeptical but followed anyways

Stopping in your tracks when you saw Fundy

“Furry?” “Fire shit?”

You went over to give him a side hug, ruffling his fur

“What the hell are you doing here ginger boy!” “Oh you know, just escaping nightmares”

You were confused then just let him be

You walked to the entry way of the place

A beautiful pond with flowers and an arch

“Did what the place where Mr. Quackity was going to propose!”

Going to?

You shrugged it off following inside

You hated to admit it, but you were excited to see him

Yeah you really needed a parental figure in your life at the moment

So when you saw him, he immediately pick you up in a hug

You didn’t fail to notice his change in appearance

That beanie stayed the same tho

Thank god

“Hey hey! Let me show you around the place, we can also go for lunch and talk.”

The casino looked great to say the least

Loud music booming from the speakers, along with the live jazz band on the side

Slot machines were going off every minute

“Have a chip, something to remember this by”

He handed you a red poker chip

It was a cool one tho, in the middle has a blocky sort of smile

Creepy and dopey.. sick!

So you put it around a spare silver chain

“So how have you been kid? ‘Ts been a while hasn’t it.” “Could be better..”

You both walked around the city in silence, offering to go in the super model shop

“No” “why not” “keep walking”

On your way to lunch you had to squint at what you were seeing

“Oh my goodness you’re still alive?!” “You’re alive!?”

You and revivebur just stared at one another

“Yeah he came back after I died!” “you what now-“

You just stared at Tommy and back to Wilbur

Oh god those shrooms were messing with your head

You should’ve gotten out of there a while ago

Quackity came over placing his hands on your shoulders

“Do I have to execute you both? Get off my damn property”

“Sorry Q. Say, Y/n wanna join Lmanburg 2.0?”

You back away holding your hands up

“I denied that offer once, and I’ll do it again. Fucking zombie freaks”

You obviously muttered the last part

Why the fuck did dream revive those two shits??

When did Tommy even die??

Your visit here has just gotten weirder and weirder

𝐌𝗼𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬

Quackity got you away from the brits as quick as he could

So he brought you over to his office

“So kid, how’s your dad..”

Ah you expected this question

“How the fuck am I supposed to know. He’s living his life, Karl’s time traveling! Oh yeah did I mention he doesn’t even remember me.”

He looked at you with wide eyes

“So I’m not the only one they forgot..”

You slammed you hands on the fable dramatizing the situation

“How would you feel about moving here? I mean you could work for me in the casino!”

You thought about it for a second

You have two options

1. Live in shroom town with bubbles

2. Move to las Nevada’s with Quackity

You were sure Sapnap wouldn’t mind

I mean would he even care?

He hasn’t for the past couple months!

“You feel abandoned there, over here there are hundreds of people. You’ll have the time of your life”

You thought about it for a sec

“Alright hand me a contract”

So you signed

Making deals with the devil huh

Little did you know it would cost you your life

Devils little soul

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

and this is the finale! I will take requests for sapnaps child, and I’ll do some shit with Quackity and the casino and go in more depth if wanted!

As always request and ask anything! And ask if you want to be on a taglist (child reader or general)

For those on the taglist I don’t know if you wanted to be tagged for all child reader shit or just dreams child.. so please tell me :)

@creatorofstars @georgenctfound @samistheidiot @smolbox-png @ghostlysenses @stellarinstigator @bobaducky

#sapnaps child #sapnap x reader #sapnap #sapnap x y/n #karl jacobs x y/n #karl jacobs x reader #quackity x reader #quackity x you #dsmp #mcyt #mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader #wilbur soot #tommy innit #kinoko kingdom #dream smp prison #las navadas #child reader

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dreamkidddream · 4 years ago

Note

Hiya~ Can I request quote 9) "Are you jealous?" for Lucifer in Obey Me! pretty please😊

This was so much fun to write! Luci know that he gets jealous but never wants to admit (his jealousy is worse than Mammon but you didn’t hear it from me 🤭) and sorry this got kinda long! Reader is gender neutral!

TW: suggestive/spicy themes, but nothing extremely graphic is mentioned

Prompt: “Are you jealous?” with Lucifer!

Lucifer is pissed.

He’s tapping his foot, and constantly checking his phone, waiting in his study for you to either walk in or call him. It’s late, and you’re still not home yet. He asked his brothers where exactly you are, and when Asmo told him that you’re out with the same “friend” you seem to blow all of them off for some time now, it just makes his mood turn even more sour, the scowl on his face deepening.

Now, Lucifer is not opposed to you making friends, as long as they aren’t a threat to you, his family, Lord Diavolo and the other exchange students. He understands that it’s very easy for you to connect with others, intentional or not, and he encourages it to a certain extent. However, this same “friend” that you’ve been increasingly been hanging out with for the past couple of weeks is starting to rub him the wrong way. Of course he’s met this “friend”, a classmate from your Seductive Speechcraft class (which just made him feel more unease with you being with them), and they seemed harmless enough (for a demon at least). Annoying, but harmless, at first.

Then began the constant need for your attention.

It started with the messages and calls under the guise of studying, the “innocent” demon begging you for help so that they can pass the class, and you being the naive nice human that you are of course obliged their request. Then it escalated from once a week, to three times a week, to almost staying after school every day just to “help”. He didn’t like that, as it’s him or his brothers that always walk you home every time, and this demon (who he found is Yuki, a demon who feeds off of sexual energy nonetheless), is messing with the routine, but he kept his cool and forced his brothers to do the same. He- They weren’t happy about this, but at the end of the day, you’re still coming home to him- them, and nothing is changing that. Not to mention how he made sure that someone had their eyes on you, whether it’s Mammon, Beel, or even himself (which he preferred).

Until Yuki decided that you need to hang out more, without him or his brothers.

That’s when he made it known of his dislike towards them, and dislike is putting it lightly.

You started to come home right at dinner, right before Beel devoured your plate. Mammon obviously voiced his displeasure aloud, with the others silently agreeing or making passing comments, but Lucifer would just shut the conversation down before anyone gets too upset, mainly for himself. He doesn’t want to lose control over something trivial like this, he can’t, he won’t- he’s well above some minuscule pest like them, and it would be a waste of time and energy to be worried about someone who is clearly below him!

He’s already irritated with Yuki integrating themselves into your everyday life, but he’s also trying to fight the increasing sinking feeling in his stomach the more you both bond.

The more you two become more than acquainted with one another, the more Lucifer tries to fight and hide this feeling. He buries himself in more paperwork, practically locks himself in his study, avoids anyone’s questions or concerns, and has become overall snappier than usual. He’s even snapped on Lord Diavolo, Lord Diavolo of all people!

(Granted Diavolo just thought it was overall stress, so he just simply laughed it off, but it didn’t go unnoticed by everyone, including you).

Now Lucifer is not stupid, he’s a very intelligent and powerful demon, and he doesn’t have to say it to be known. He made sure to do some research himself on Yuki, and didn’t put anything past them. You’re still surrounded by demons who wouldn’t hesitate to swallow you whole if allowed, and some are still desperate enough to try anything, so he’s very cautious with others being around you.

Which leads to now, you being out again with that demon at The Fall. Ever since, Lucifer retired to his study, constantly checking his phone for any updates. He refused to look distressed in front of everyone, and he knows that you’re smart and not so gullible, you’ll be okay, you had to be.

It’s well going on 1 in the morning, and you still haven’t answered any of his calls and texts? You swore that you would always answer him, so something had to happen. What exactly were you doing? What exactly were you two doing? We’re you okay? Are you safe? Has that Yuki tried anything with you?

Were you two doing anything now?

All of these questions swirling around in his head, his worry only adding on to his frustrations and building tension going through his body.

He already marched down to the door, coat forgotten and tie undone, flinging it open and scowl so deep that his fangs were bared. That Yuki better hope that you come home in one piece and spotless, or else he will make sure that they regret being alive-

He couldn’t wipe the surprised look on his face when he made eye contact with you, who was matching his own expression, hand frozen in the air mid knock.

“Lucifer? What are you still doing up? Are you about to go somewhere?” His expression quickly morphed to one of high distaste, the irritation displaying clearly on his face and his grip tightening on the door.

“I was still awake waiting for you. Have you forgotten how to use a phone, or are you too good for one now that you’re with your ‘friend’. And I remember specifically telling you to let me know when you leave, did I not?”

“Oh. Well...my phone kinda died, but I was already on the way home and-”

“By yourself?! Do you know how irresponsible that is? Do you forget that you’re a mere human?”

His irritation is rising to pure anger at this revelation. So that demon didn’t even have the decency to walk you home? To make sure that you arrive safe? And yet you still have the nerve to spend time with them and practically ignore him?!-

“Well- um, Lucifer? Lucifer!”

He snapped out of his murderous thoughts, and stepped aside to let you in.

“Come inside now, it’s late, and we have much to discuss.”

Your face scrunched up, showing confusion in how he’s acting. You know that’s he mad about your phone being dead, but he’s mad enough to leave the door barely hanging on its hinges? But you knew that arguing or pointing it out would just make things escalate, so you just stepped past and began to make your way up the stairs.

You can feel his eyes bore into the back of your head, but you just didn’t understand why. It’s about more than just your phone, it seemed like he’s been on edge for awhile now. You want to approach him, to ask him what’s wrong, to have him open up, but of course Lucifer being Lucifer, it was to no avail.

You racked your brain as he lead you to his room and began the “conversation” about how irresponsible you were being (really it’s just him getting whatever he needed off his chest and not you giving any input). Was it because of you going out so late? No, you didn’t drink, you and Yuki stayed together the whole night, and you let him know hours before. Was it Yuki? Now that you’re think about it, he has been frowning more it seemed like every time you brought up their name-

The pieces are starting to fit together now.

Oh my Diavolo.

You couldn’t stop the words escaping from your mouth before you could realize it.

“Lucifer, are you jealous?”

He choked in the middle of his sentence, and the room went quiet. You’re pretty sure that you can’t even hear him breathing, and his face just went entirely blank, no expression whatsoever.

Oh no, you broke him-

A gust of wind erupted, so strong that you had to shield your eyes for a second, and when you removed your arm, you were met with massive black wings and a very enraged demon.

“Excuse me?”

You stepped back until you stumbled onto the bed, as he stalks closer and closer to you.

“Care to repeat yourself?”

You knew better than to respond, and you felt frozen on the bed. You also know that Lucifer won’t attack or try to kill you, but it didn’t take away from the fact that he has moments where he’s very intimidating, one of those moments being now.

He’s looking down at you like a predator would to its captured prey, his ruby eyes glowing deviously in the dim room. He didn’t stop moving until he was on top of you, caging you in.

“Me? Jealous?” He scoffed. “I am the Avatar of Pride, the most powerful being in this house, yet you assume that I’m jealous of a demon that’s beneath me? You insult me, MC.”

He took hold of your chin, “Do you not remember what I said when we made the pact? You are mine and mine alone. Not anyone else’s, but mine.”

You felt like your nerves were getting the best of you, but you couldn’t force yourself to tear away as he leaned closer. He sealed his lips against yours in a heated kiss, one that you gladly accepted, not before uttering the words that made your heart race even faster.

“Maybe I should remind you of who you belong to, hm?”

—-

“Had a fun night, MC?”

“Yeah, it was”, you coughed in your hand. “Very nice, very fun. We had a great time.”

“Hmmmmm...you and Yuki or you and Lucifer?”

“Asmo!”

He giggled, “I’m just saying dear. I don’t sense the pent-up sexual frustration from Lucifer anymore, and he seems back to normal and even relaxed. Though I must say MC, I wish that you had spent the night in my bed instead.”

“Of course you do Asmo.”

“Besides, I would have covered your hickeys much better-”

“ASMO-”

“MC, are you ready?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear has never been more true than now, as Lucifer appeared behind you both, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Huh? Oh, yes, sorry.”

“Eh? Where are you two going?”

“Out.”

“And without me?!”

“Yes. Now, leave us be”. Lucifer moved his hand from your shoulder to your own hand, leading you both out the door. You two had plans for the day after the...eye-opening talk from last night, and he didn’t want to waste anymore time than he already had.

Bonus:

Asmo waited until he heard the door click, and then quickly whipped out his D.D.D. to text Yuki. He knew that the plan was going to be a success! A tense Lucifer made things more difficult for everyone, and he has too much pride to open his mouth so he decided to step in and team up with Yuki, who already knew about the whole ordeal.

Lucifer was already on the edge of snapping and letting his primal instincts take over anyway, so Asmo just gave him a little push in the right direction.

Thank Diavolo the plan worked, or else it would be hell for them both. He did owe Yuki some exposure on his socials in exchange for this and backing off of you now, but it was well worth the trouble.

#obey me x reader #obey me reader insert #obey me Lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #Lucifer x reader #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me!#om! lucifer #OM! Lucifer x reader #dream’s 100 + 200 followers prompt special 💙

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redhead-batgal · 3 years ago

Text

Type: One-shot

Pairing: Fem! and Vigilante! Reader x Damian Wayne/Robin

Content: Some angst and lots of Fluff, some cursing, violence and an oblivious reader. Aged up Damian, 15/16yrs old.

Y/N: Your Name, L/N: Last Name, V/N: Vigilante Name

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is a moment when you realize that you love some one, there is also a moment when you realize you hate someone. However, it's the moment realizing that someone loves you that usually hits the hardest. Unfortunately, this was not the moment for you. Instead it was the moment you realized that Damian Wayne hated you.

And honestly it pissed you off. You had done nothing to warrant his hate, in fact the two of you had been friends until he decided to be a pompous ass. Your opinion might be a little bit jaded considering you were hopelessly in love with him... but that didn't mean he had any right to be a dick to you.

It had started with avoiding you, he would see you walk into a room and he would turn and leave it. Sometimes you would be walking towards him and he would turn around and begin heading in the opposite direction. It extended into ignoring you, you would try and talk to him and he would ignore you and walk away.

Once, he was having a conversation with Tim, Tim mentioned how you would be able to help out much better then he could. Damian looked to you for a moment and you raised an eyebrow almost in question. Then he shook his head before leaving the room muttering something about how he didn't really need the answer.

It was infuriating. Maddening really, being ignored and avoided. But you knew it was best to let Damian do what ever the hell he wanted and he'd regret it later. However, when he asked to be paired with someone else on patrol when you didn't even have to speak to each other, to say you nearly lost it was an understatement.

It was the reason you nearly got shot, your mind was clouded with violent thoughts, anger at Damian and at yourself for being so hurt at the rejection.

You and Red Hood were paired together for patrol. You were supposed to be watching the turf of a gang called the Scarlet Soldiers. Word was that a war was brewing between The Scarlet Soldiers and The Unseen Devils. While your mind was off arguing with itself and shouting curses at Damian, The Devils made their move.

You didn't even realize what exactly had happened, you remember Red Hood shouting at you to get moving then everything was a blur. The next thing you remember it a feeling like fire slicing your side, gun shots were ringing around you and you felt another slice across your cheek and left arm. Someone shouted for you to get down and you dropped to the ground almost in a trance.

It wasn't until the gunfire stopped and the slices felt like they were a blaze did you come out of the trance. Someone was yanking you to your feet, however it felt as though everything was muddled and distant. Someone began to shake you and suddenly your hearing cleared and you found yourself face to face with Robin.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

He seemed concerned but you wrote that off as the adrenaline pumping through your veins due to being shot at and the fact that you had gotten grazed at least three times.

Rolling your eyes you shoved him away.

"Oh fuck off," You snapped.

He did not in fact fuck off.

Instead, he grabbed onto your right arm, forcing you to face him once again. You shot him a glare but he returned you one that rivaled your own.

"You," He began almost as if he was restraining himself, "could have gotten yourself killed, V/N."

You couldn't believe it, was he seriously acting like he cared? That he was worried about you when you both knew that was the farthest from the truth.

Pressing a hand to your forehead you shook your head and weakly laughed, "Please don't start this shit with me right now."

He blinked in slight confusion and looked at you the confusion overtaking the apparent anger he had previously had.

"Excuse me?"

"Your bullshit," You began shooting him an irritated look, "already has a body count you don't need to add more to it."

That only seemed to confuse him more. He did not let go of your arm, instead he took a step closer to you, "What?"

"This- this fuckary about 'caring'."

You threw your hands up as you shook your head and effectively slipped from his grip. But it didn't matter, he was close. Close enough you could see a slight hitch in his breathing.

" I do care-" Robin began but you cut him off shaking your head.

"Don't you dare, don't even try saying that you give a fuck about me because we both know that's a damned lie." The words slipped off your tongue and you felt your heart raging in your chest.

You had unintentionally let your feelings, the ones you'd been trying your hardest to push back, to beat into nonexistence, shove themselves forwards. The pain you had felt, not only at the rejection he kept seeming to shove your way but because of your stupid love for him. No matter how hard you tried it seemed your dumb heart was saving all it's love for him.

It wasn't until you saw the shock on his face you realized that he, luckily, didn't see all that you felt. His face hardened and he took another step forwards. If he got any closer the two of you would be touching.

"What in the hell made you think that?" His voice was low, you could see him clenching his fists and you had a feeling was he not wearing his mask, his eyes would be blazing. You had made him angry.

Great. This was just perfect.

However you couldn't stop yourself from replying. You had gotten all your pain out on the table, why not throw the anger out there as well?

"YOU! You and your pompous assery! Avoiding me, ignoring me! Of course you don't care, it was obvious... why would you?" You found yourself nearly shouting as you lurched forwards, your voice cracking at the end.

He blinked a few times, the anger slowly leaving him. You could tell because his body began to relax and his fists unclenched. This made you even angrier. Taking in a breath to stop yourself from breaking the boy wonder's nose you realized how close the two of you were.

Well shit.

He was close enough you could make out the pattern on his mask and uniform. You could hear him breathing and had the sneaking suspicion if you were to let out a breath, he would be able to feel it. You could practically hear him in you head scolding you for ruining his outfit.

"Don't even breathe on it," He had told you when you first saw it, "it's very expensive."

"How much?" You had asked in curiosity.

He shot you a look then rolled his eyes and replied, "It's worth far more then you are."

The sight of him moving his hand brought you back to the present. Looking at him you found him studying you. Suddenly he sighed and shook his head. Your noses were almost brushing when he said,

"Well, I never said I didn't care, So don't go thinking that."

Before you could reply someone called your name causing the both of you to look in their direction. Nightwing was making his way towards you a concerned look on his face.

"V/N, are you alright?" He asked moving forwards, hands out as if to examine your wounds.

You noticed how Robin took a few not so subtle steps away from you and you waved a hand at Nightwing.

"Honestly I'm fine, it's just a couple of nicks. I'll be okay."

Robin snorted as if he disagreed and you shot him a slight glare. Turning back towards Nightwing you noticed how he gave Robin a worried look before meeting your gaze.

"Just to be safe, let's get you back to bat cave and let Agent A take a look."

Reluctantly you nodded and let Nightwing begin to drag you away, a strange feeling burning in your chest. You hadn't fully realized what Robin had said until then.

I never said I didn't care. So don't go thinking that

What on earth did he mean by that? You were thoroughly confused. He acted like he didn't care, then said things like this. You hoped you didn't get whiplash from this sudden personality change, however you knew that it was more likely that you were going to just end up getting hurt. Your heart had begun to sing a little song almost as soon as it heard his words.

I never said I didn't care

That must mean he does care, your heart cheered. Your feelings were confusing... very confusing. On one hand you were angry, on the other hand you heart seemed to be making you feel a bit fluttery.

The sharp sting of rubbing alcohol on your cuts yanked you out of your thoughts. Alfred stood in front of you gently cleaning the minor wounds you gained earlier. Meanwhile, Tim seemed to be explaining something he invented to Duke.

"What do you mean it might explode?" Duke asked still wearing at least half of his vigilante outfit.

Tim shrugged as he deposited another coffee cup into the overflowing trashcan near the bat computer.

"I'm like eighty-five percent sure it won't."

"Eighty-Five percent?!"

"Uh, Well more like seventy-seven."

"WHAT?!"

You knew under other circumstances you would have laughed an such an interaction. However after what happened you were lacking your usual humor and it didn't go unnoticed.

"Is everything alright Miss. Y/N?"

You blinked and look at Alfred. He was tending to the wound on your arm and gave you a expecting look.

"Oh, I- uh yeah. I mean it's not alright but nothing is really wrong." You explained with a shrug not wanting to get into it.

"Is that why Master Damian hasn't stopped staring at you?"

"Yea-Wait, what?"

You looked up and found, nearly on the other side of the bat cave stood Damian, clearly watching the progress of you being taken care. Three words popped into your head.

Overbearing Mother Hen.

This was nearly exactly like how things had been before Damian decided to turn into a dick... well more like a prick.

He would worry about any injuries you got, of course you felt the same about him, but it was strange to see him back up to his old ways... it made your heart do the weird fluttery thing again and you really didn't like it.

A stinging on your cheek caused you to wince. And you blinked once again back into reality.

"Apologizes Miss. Y/N."

You shrugged at Alfred, now deciding to focus on him... well for at least the moment.

"It's fine, it's the least I deserve for being an idiot."

Alfred raised an eyebrow as he pulled the cloth away, but other then that he didn’t react to your comment. Looking for a bandage in the first aid-kit, Alfred let out a slight hum. After a minute's search he pulled out a old looking band-aid.

"Unfortunately, Miss. Y/N this is the last band-aid we have."

In his hands Alfred had a pink hello kitty band-aid, it had tiny little hearts and hello kitty's face adorning it's surface. You didn't really mind, a band-aid is a band-aid after all.

Alfred place the band-aid on your face and you waggled your eyebrows remarking,

"It's alright, I don't mind, I think it give me a punk edge. What do you think?"

He replied without missing a beat as he began to clean up the area, "I think you should go and talk to Master Damian."

Of course he did, he probably had heard about your argument from someone or heard parts of it over the comms, the possibilities of him hearing about were endless after all.

Shaking your head you sighed, "Alright, alright, fine."

Hopping down off of the counter, you began to walk towards Damian. As you went you passed by Steph and Cass, who both shot you looks as you headed towards him.

"Nice band-aid!" Steph remarked as she shot you a wink.

You rolled your eyes smiling as you fought off a laugh. Giving her a thumbs up you continued to walk. Stopping in front of him you notice how he's giving you a strange look.

After a few moments of awkward silence and rolling from the ball of your foot to your heel you nodded and decided to break it.

"You are being really creepy you know, you should stop."

Damian blinked in surprise and his brooding look dropped as he gave you a confused one.

"How so?"

You didn't understand how he couldn't see that he was being weird, weird and creepy. Staring at someone relentlessly and not turning away when they look back at you is fairly weird.

"Just standing there staring," You explained waving a hand, "it's weird. Stop it."

Damian's face stiffed for a moment and his entire body tensed. You didn't know exactly what you did, but something you said clearly had upset him.

"Why am I scaring you?" He asked fairly curtly.

He- he thought that he could scare you? Something was clear wrong with him because he must have forgotten who you were and what you've seen.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head as you crossed your arms. Letting out a scoff you looked him dead in the eyes and gave him a tight smile.

"Do you really think you could scare me? Sweetheart, I've met babies that are scarier then you."

It occurred to you, after you said it that you called him sweetheart. For a few seconds panic began to ensue in your mind until you saw his natural scowl and the rolling of his eyes. He didn't take it as flirting as you feared, instead he took it as a taunt... or at least that's what it seemed like.

The scowl slips away from his face and instead he looks at you frustrated and he opened his mouth only to close it. Clearly he wanted to say something, what scared you was how much you wanted to know what it was.

You fiddled with your hands for a moment before he finally cleared his throat and spoke.

"I- I wanted.... I wanted to apologize for my behavior."

Initially shock came over you, was Damian Wayne... the Damian Wayne apologizing? It sure as hell was what he said and as far as you could tell it wasn't a joke. Then again you don't exactly know what he's apologizing for.

Pushing your surprise back you raised an eyebrow and inquired, "And why is that?"

He fidgeted for a moment before looking you in the eyes, he seemed upset- a look you knew meant he was not upset with you, but himself.

"Because I was not right to treat you the way I did."

Pardon? You were astounded. Not only was he actually apologizing, he was admitting he was wrong... well not even admitting it. He was saying it, you hadn't really told him his behavior was wrong more as told him it pissed you off. For half a second you felt the fluttery feeling but you shoved it back.

What exactly was he expecting to get from this apology? Did he expect you to instantly forgive him and for everything to go back to the way it was? Or did he expect you for forgive him and then you apologize for something? You didn't know and frankly were irritated at any of the possibilities.

"Okay and?"

He swallowed and you swear you could see his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

"You are a very dear... friend of mine and I would hate to loose that friendship because of a fault on my part."

Your jaw nearly dropped, did he just call you a dear friend? Tonight was full of miracles. Your heart began fluttering again and you were to shocked to even try and stop it.

We're friends... dear friends, your heart began singing. But you cut it off before it could get any further. No, no you couldn't keep playing this game with yourself, with your heart and feelings. For your own sake you were going to force your heart to find someone else to love. No more saving all your love for him. You were going to find someone.... someone less of ass. However that didn't mean the two of you couldn't be friends.

He seemed genuine enough and seeing the kicked puppy dog expression on his face was seriously starting to wear you down.

"Ugh, fine." You sighed giving him a irritated look, "Just don't do it again alright? I really don't like pompous you, jackass you is much better."

Relief quickly appeared on Damian's face and he seemed to be fighting off a smile suddenly.

"Thank you... I'm assuming jackass me is the version you deem normal?"

Despite yourself you snorted, rolling your eyes you smiled and gave him a long look. He was an idiot and sometimes weird, but other times he could be kinda cute... alright more then kinda... wait did what he just said about being dear friends- was that an emotional speech? You couldn't help but tease him about it.

"Yup. By the way, I didn't know you were the emotional speech kind of guy."

He blinked and then his eyes narrowed and he leaned in towards you, his arms behind his back a strange look on his face.

"Well special circumstances call for special responses however if anyone ever finds out about this there won't be a body left for them to find." He muttered to you.

For some reason, you found this hysterically funny. You smiled at him and he gave you a confused look. Laughing you rolled your eyes.

"Okay, then."

A temptation washed over you and you gave Damian a look, he raised his eyebrows in confusion. You leaned in a bit more and for a moment you relished the surprised look in his eyes. Leaning in even more you quickly pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, then you pulled away smiling.

His eyes widened and it was hard not to laugh at his expression.

"Did-did you just kiss me?" He asked clearly in shock

Laughing you shook your head in disbelief, it wasn't that shocking was it?

"It was only on the cheek, geeze. You do know that friends sometimes kiss each other like that right?"

He blinked twice and then he nodded and turned away from you his face turning all different shades of pink and red.

".... I do now." He replied nearly whispering.

It suddenly occurred to you that you had completely and totally flustered him. You tried to stop yourself but you really couldn't. A snort escaped you and you pressed a hand to your mouth to push back your giggles. Damian blinked a few times and your entire body shook.

"Oh no!" Jason shouted, "I think the demon spawn killed Y/N."

That did it, you burst into a fit of laughter. Your entire body shook and you nearly collapsed in on yourself.

"Oh my gosh," You said in between your laughing fits.

After a few seconds of you cackling and everyone staring at you in confusion, you were able to calm down... well it was more like a few minutes but that's besides the point. Wiping away imaginary tears you let out a sigh and smiled brightly at Damian. His face softens and he sighs slightly before straightening out.

"I hope you fully recover from your injuries L/N." He says in a strange tone, turning to leave.

"They were just scrapes." You reply, waving a hand as if to brush off.

He pauses for a moment and turns back to you. Tilting his head he looks you over.

"Regardless, I dislike seeing you hurt..." He softly says, he then blinked a few times as if he just realized what he said and he got an embarrassed look on his face. " Well goodnight."

In that instance it was almost like cupid shot an arrow straight at your mind, not your heart. Mainly because your heart was already certain about what it felt, your mind on the other hand was causing all the trouble. A warm feeling rushed over you and softly both in unison your heart and your mind began to sing.

It was then that you realized, at least for now, there wasn't really anyone else you could find yourself loving. Or at least feel the same way you do about him.

Damn it.

Sighing in defeat you watched him walk across the bat cave and slowly up the stairs. Shaking your head you watch him go and find yourself muttering under your breath.

"Looks like I'm saving all my love for you."

Fuck.

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heersheys · 3 years ago

Text

Murphy's Law of Love

Heeseung x gn!reader (coffee shop au)

Basically my poor attempt on writing this prompt:

"You're the customer and you get back at me for all the times I've spelt your name wrong by mispronouncing my name in increasingly horrible ways"

Warnings : i wrote this at 4 am so grammar errors and misused vocabs (everything is error at this point.) didn't proof read. Feedbacks and corrections (in a kind way) are much appreciated.

☕ ☕ ☕

Eyes half opened, you fumbled around to find your phone so you can check the time. When you couldn't find what you're looking for, you quickly got up from your bed just to see that your phone isn't plugged in. Rushed out of bed, you ran to the living room since there was a clock here and when you saw the clock , you were literally shocked. 3 hours, yes, you were exactly 3 hours late. You came back to your room -cursing and being mad at yourself, to look up your phone.

Almost half an hour later, when you were about to give up, you found your phone under your bed. But it was out of battery. That's probably why you didn't wake up on time. You gave a frustrated sigh then took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying to calm down. Okay, you got off on the wrong foot today but it doesn't have to go on like that. Right..?

You started to get ready for the day, even though it was late. After going through a lot of problems - like your hair not getting in shape or couldn't find the clothes you were looking for or them being dirty, you were finally ready and all that was left to start the day was to get your precious coffee from your favorite coffee shop. Hoping that makes your day a bit better.

***

Well, devil works hard but Murphy works harder. (a/n: this is going to be my life motto from now on i swear) Yeah, that might be the only valid explanation for how today's going. As if what happened to you in the morning wasn't enough, you just learned that your favorite coffee shop will be closed for 3 months due to renovation. You looked back at the shop one last time with a pout and teary eyes. Disappointment was evident on your face. You sighed in defeat and started walking towards the bus stop. While waiting for the bus at the bus stop, an advertisement for a newly opened coffee shop caught your eye. And without wasting a second you started to walk excitedly towards the address written in the ad, hoping that this coffee shop would be the thing that would break the chain of bad luck you had been suffering all day.

When you entered the shop the rich fragrance of coffee surrounded you, instantly making you relax. Wooden floors, comfortable seats, walls and tables decorated with soft colors, shelves full of books, games and comics, paintings hanging on the wall giving positive vibes,cute chandeliers filling the shop with soft lights...

The shop was so peaceful and comfortable, you were engrossed in this cozy atmosphere. Until, of course, the cute barista called out to take your order. With a smile brighter than every light in the shop, this boy was like a prince from the fairy tales you read as a kid, with wide, bright and expectant eyes, angelic voice, soft and handsome features, rosy lips and slender fingers waiting the take your order, his slightly chubby cheeks growing even more red as you kept your gaze on him. He gave a sigh of relief when you finally averted your gaze from him and told your order in a calm voice. He was too cute for his own good, you think for yourself.

But that cuteness wasn't going to save him from writing your name wrong on the cup when you were having an awful day. You were happy that you finally got your favorite coffee until you saw your misspelled name on the cup, you were beyond pissed off at this point. It wasn't really a big deal at any other time, but it was the last straw after a day when you officially were the embodiment of Murphy's Law. Universe hates me,you thought, and now i hate that cute barista for making my day even more miserable. You got up from your seat, on your way to talk to him. You approached him with a fake smile on your face and asked him his name in a friendly tone when he looked at you. Unlike you, he answered sincerely with that bright smile again.

"Heeseung. Lee Heeseung."

But that bright-smiled boy was now nothing more than an angel-faced devil in your eyes.

"Oh, Heesong-ssi nice to meet you!"

You said with a cute smile, pronouncing his name wrong on purpose, saying goodbye and leaving the shop without letting Heeseung reply.

***

And this 'mispronouncing / spelling names' thing between you and Heeseung had continued throughout the time your favorite shop was closed. And after a few weeks, Heeseung would rather sell his soul to the devil than misspelling your name that day.

The second time you went to the shop - yes, you went there the second time, because although you were angry that day, you had to admit that the coffee was very good, and it didn't go unnoticed by you that the shop was more crowded than last time.

Waiting for your turn, you glance at Heeseung, who is busy taking care of other customers.

"Here's your order. Have a great day! "

And you rolled your eyes at the woman who is giggling like a high schooler at Heeseung's kind gestures -and possibly that stupid smile on his handsome face.When it was finally your turn, Heeseung asked for your name again you said your name twice so that the disaster from last time wouldn't happen again. Then you took your order and sat down to a table, after taking a look at your coffee cup and seeing your misspelled name -again, saying you're annoyed would be an understatement. While you were narrowing your eyes and throwing non-existent lasers at the boy behind the counter, the said boy, Heeseung, suddenly looks at you and smiles, as if he sensed you looking at him. You were probably just staring at him with a blank face as you were caught of guard. Lee Heeseung was being too much, too much to handle.

You were getting ready to leave -since you finished your coffee, when you saw the doe-eyed barista coming to your way. Your palms started to sweat, as your body tensed visibly. You gave him a shy smile which he mirrored immediately, then he spoke with a warm tone.

"I guess you're leaving? Hope you enjoyed the coffee and our service."

You spoke with a honeyed voice.

"There's not enough words to describe that coffee, believe me. And I'm really glad that you asked but I'm in a hurry (you weren't) and i don't want to keep you from your work. So if you excuse me Heejung-ssi, i need to go."

You hurriedly got up, heading to the door saying take care to him, and it was priceless to see his smiling face turning into a shocked and confused one. And yes, there's not enough words for you to describe how much you enjoyed his reaction.

***

The day he misspelled your name for the third time, instead of that beautiful smile he always wore, Heeseung took your order with an awkward smile and started preparing your coffee without trying to make a conversation. You thought, it was understandable that he had a strange attitude towards you after your last time. After politely giving you your order and wishing you a good day, he smiled for the last time without looking at your face and moved on to the next customer.It had become a new habit for you to check your name right after you had your coffee because of him. And as expected Heeseung didn't let you down, misspelling your name again. With a mischievous smile, you turned back to the boy and waved, Heeseung looking up to your face with confusion.

"Have a good day, Haeseong-ah!"

You shouted and winked. His face growing red out of embarrassment as he waved back in tiny. His coworkers giving you a disapproving look. His tiny wave almost made you break down a fond smile but instead of that you wore a triumphiant smile, walking out of the shop.

The fourth time, Heeseung's name completely changed into a new one "Hyunseok", hearing his brand new name(?) this time, He gave a sigh of disappointment and passed on to the other customer without even saying 'have a good day' or smiling. Ok,you might've gone a little bit far with this names, but in your defense, it wasn't normal for him to misspelling your name too many times too. The first time he had just heard your name, the second time he might have mixed your name up because the shop was so crowded, but there was no reason for him to misspell it even though you said it over and over after that.

A week later, you entered the shop with a big smile on your face again, this time Heeseung greeted you with a beautiful smile and a different glint in his eyes. He took your order again as usual, spelled your name wrong while looking straight into your eyes, and then winked and walked away as if nothing had happened. You watched him walk away with your wide eyes as red hues creeping your face. Your heartbeat quickened and you gave a breath that you didn't even know you were holding. You turned your back and walked towards one of the tables so that Heeseung wouldn't see you in this state as you covered your face with your hands.

"Order 234 is ready."

You were slightly nervous as you made your way to Heeseung to take your order, it wouldn't be wrong to say that you were still under the influence of his actions. You cleared your throat, bowed to Heeseung and took your drink from his soft hands. Prepared to strike a final blow you said

"Thanks, Hyungwon-ssi!"

Heeseung opened and closed his mouth as if he wanted to say something and you couldn't help your curiosity, eventually asking him if he wants to say something.Heeseung replied in an offended tone as his eyes lit up.

"I'm sorry if I'm being rude, but may i ask why do you always say my name wrong?"

You chuckled and showed the cup, feeling like you'd finally been caught.

"For the same reason you always writing my name wrong."

Heeseung frowned and answered with a confused face.

"I misspelled your name because you mispronounced my name."

After a short silence, you both cracked a laughter to your awkward situation.Looking at him with a bright smile you asked.

"So you were misspelling my name on purpose, Heeseung-ssi?"

When you said that, Heeseung's face lit up as he heard his name coming from your mouth, the corners of his lips curled up.

"Not at first, but yes." he said, keeping his answer short. Your conversation with Heeseung was interrupted when the bell rang to indicate that a new customer had arrived in the shop. As you both look at each other sadly, deciding that you should finally say goodbye (you couldn't keep Heeseung from his work any longer, and the awkward glances his coworkers gave you as they passed by were starting to increase by each minute).

"Thanks for the coffee and chat, Heeseung, see you later." You bowed your head, wishing him a good night. Heeseung also greeted you, thanked you, and proceeded to take the order so not to keep the customer waiting any longer. You took one last look at the prince -in his barista apron, as you walked out the door and couldn't wait to come back to this shop and him ofc.

☕ ☕ ☕

(hope you liked it 💜)

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chaos-has-theories · 4 years ago

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Part 1: The Eye of John

You’ve heard of „Alecto is a Resurrection Beast“, „Alecto is Gaia“ and „Alecto is a seamonster“, you’ve heard of John’s sun symbolism, now get ready for:

John is Ra and Alecto is Mehet-Weret

or less specifically Hathor, or The Eye of Ra

[Image description: A picture in the Ancient Egyptian style. It shows a large blue cow with stars along its belly. There are nine people under it, keeping it steady. An empty boat floats by its back legs, and another boat by its front legs, this one with the god Ra as a passenger. A large red arrow points at the cow and is labelled “Alecto???”.]

(More under the cut, because this shit will get long.)

First, for the record, I am emphatically not a learned egyptologist, so I might be getting things wrong here.

Secondly, ancient Egyptian mythology is a gorgeous mess. You can’t ever just say that x is the child of y, because they’re bound to also be siblings, and spouses, and x is also a and b and y is also b and c and... yeah.

Anyway, let’s do this.

---

I was rereading Harrow the Ninth with my roommates and we got to this part:

"Your sword will not rend its armour”, he said, with his back turned to them. “It’s weapons will ruin your flesh. It will not stop until it has subsumed its quarry.” (HtN p. 329)

and I thought to myself, huh, that kind of sounds like the Eye of Ra.

So let’s talk about that!

Now, the main story of the Eye of Ra is that, long ago, when the gods were still like, living on earth with the humans, people started to criticize Ra, their ruler.

That pissed off Ra, so he sent off his „Eye“ to punish them. She did, killing almost all the humans, but then Ra couldn’t really get her to stop. So the gods made a bunch of dyed beer with some blood in it, and the Eye drank it all and became drunk and docile.

So far, so good. Technically, at that point Teacher is talking about the Sleeper, but we all know that there are heavy parallels between the Sleeper and the Body. Also, there’s more where that came from.

"My lord,” said Augustine formally, “you told us the truth about Annabel–about Alecto–because she knew the truth too, and you never could control her.” (HtN, p. 478)

”Annabel Lee... was not the dying kind,” said the Emperor. It might be more accurate to say that I switched her off.” “You came to us and we asked, Is she dead?” said Mercy. “And you said, As dead as I can make her... I remember, Lord, that you wept.” (HtN, p. 479)

Neither Alecto nor the Eye of Ra are stopped by death or reason but instead kept somehow subdued.

But it gets better, and weirder.

The most famous version of the Eye of Ra is probably Sakhmet, the lion goddess. Sometimes she's a cat, Bastet; but just as often she’s depicted as a cow, Hathor.

There's a specific version of this myth called „The Book of the Heavenly Cow“ or „The Destruction of Mankind“. Here’s a translation of it.

I just learned about this myth. I learned about it under the Name of „Mehet-Weret“. Hathor and Mehet-Weret are… the same goddess? Not the same goddess? Sometimes the same goddess? They’re both cow themed, and occasionally take the same roles. Mythology is confusing, y’all.

Here’s what Wikipedia has to say about it:

Hathor was given the epithets "mistress of the sky" and "mistress of the stars", and was said to dwell in the sky with Ra and other sun deities. Egyptians thought of the sky as a body of water through which the sun god sailed, and they connected it with the waters from which, according to their creation myths, the sun emerged at the beginning of time. This cosmic mother goddess was often represented as a cow. Hathor and Mehet-Weret were both thought of as the cow who birthed the sun god and placed him between her horns. Like Nut, Hathor was said to give birth to the sun god each dawn.

Since I remembered the name Mehet-Weret and was very proud of that, that’s where I actually started my research here, and…

Mehet-Weret or Mehturt (Ancient Egyptian: mḥt-wrt) is an ancient Egyptian deity of the sky in ancient Egyptian religion. Her name means "Great Flood". She was mentioned in the Pyramid Texts. In ancient Egyptian creation myths, she gives birth to the sun at the beginning of time, and in art she is portrayed as a cow with a sun disk between her horns. She is associated with the goddesses Neith, Hathor, and Isis, all of whom have similar characteristics, and like them she could be called the "Eye of Ra". Mehet-Weret is primarily known as being the "Celestial Cow" or "Cow Goddess" because of her physical characteristics, but she contributes to the world in more ways than that. She is also the Goddess of Water, Creation, and Rebirth; in Egyptian mythology, Mehet-Weret is one of the main components in the making and survival of life. (...) She was credited for the birth of Re, also known as the Sun God Ra; she is also the one who protects Re. (Wikipedia)

SHE’S (a version of) THE PRIMORDIAL FLOOD, Y’ALL.

You said, “Teacher, what destroyed the House of the First?” “Not much,” said the Emperor, and he tried to smile. It was awful. “Rising sea levels and a massive nuclear fission chain reaction...it all went downhill from there.” (HtN p. 346)

"Even the devil bent for God to put a leash around her neck (...) But when the work was done (...) they bade him kill the saltwater creature before she could do them harm...” (HtN p. 328)

Next to you, the body said quietly, “The water is risen. So is the sun. We will endure.” (HtN p. 294)

On this same read-through I snagged on „The water is risen, so is the sun“ because it sounds so much like a quote, but I couldn’t find anything. Yes, John has sun symbolism and Alecto all that water stuff, but where is the connection?

Well, here. It’s just Ancient Egyptian Creation Myths.

The different creation myths have some elements in common. They all held that the world had arisen out of the lifeless waters of chaos (…) The sun was also closely associated with creation, and it was said to have first risen from the mound, as the general sun-god Ra.

That makes Alecto literally the First One. It makes her John’s protector as the Eye. It gives her a connection to water and and even death and the underworld. (It also gives her a connection to the sky, which always fits in a Space Fantasy.)

Essentially,

I can see two figures in Egyptian mythology that fit what we know of Alecto. Those would be the Eye of Ra, an uncontrollable creature of rage and revenge; and the flood from which the sun god rises during the creation of the world. And Mehet-Weret fits into both.

But you’re not convinced yet? Alright then. Remember how Hathor/Mehet-Weret is a cow?

"Oh, singular,” said Dulcinea quietly, more to herself than to Gideon. “Lipochrome...recessive.” (GtN, p. 106)

When she spoke at last, she sounded frozen and numb. “I see. I understand. Lipochrome. Recessive. You are the evidence.” (HtN, p. 410)

I did not know what the fuck to say to her incoherent spew. She said, ragged, peevish: “What? No tongue in your head, you–you mutant, you mistake, you great big calf-eyed fuck-up?”

If you’re like me and know nothing about biology, you’ll hop over to Wikipedia and find this:

A lipochrome (from Greek λίπος ("fat") and χρῶμα ("color")) is a naturally occurring, fat-soluble pigment. Lipofuscin—a product of fat breakdown in lysosomes—is a type of lipochrome that is associated with the decomposition of cell membranes. Beta carotene, a lipochrome, was found in the retina, pigment epithelium, and iris of cattle eyes.

This is the entirety of the article by the way.

…and I was wondering why Tamsyn didn’t just call the eyes „Amber“.

Now you might say, but Chaos, you know they’re not really her eyes…

Yeah.

They’re John’s eyes.

They are, you might say, the Eyes of John.

---

THERE WILL BE MORE PARTS because I am LOSING MY MIND OVER THIS but this post is already longer than it has any right to be.

In the meantime, here’s an article on Mehet-Weret that I think is actually well researched and probably does a better job explaining how all these different gods fit together than I ever could.

#gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #alecto the ninth #alecto theories #the locked tomb meta #the locked tomb #please tell me if something in here doesn't add up #I hyperfocused on it for 24 hours and now I'm not sure whether my brain still exists #I'll be talking about the Lyctors and Griddlehark in part 2!

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rowanaelinn · 3 years ago

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Fire on Fire - Chapter Three

Chapter two // Chapter four

“My head’s gonna explode,” Elide Lochan sighed before she drank two big gulps of water as if she had been thirsty for days. Aelin knew the feeling. She’d been working for two hours now but it felt like ten. The bar was so hot and the music so loud, she couldn’t wait to go home and come back to the silence of her room.

Today was her first day and of course, it was a Saturday night, the busiest night of the week. The uniform, which was basically only a tight white shirt and a pair of black booty shorts, was one of the other reasons Aelin decided she hated this job but only stayed for the money. Aelin had been lucky today if you can call it that, but unfortunately, that luck didn’t extend to Elide.

Some douche-bags slapped her ass when she served him his drink, and of course, all his friends howled with laughter. As if sexual harassment was some kind of joke. The moment Elide mentioned this incident, Aelin had wanted to slam the guy's head on the table but Elide stopped her. The customer was always right and both Aelin and Elide needed this job too much.

They had decided not to tell their co-worker Manon about that, Aelin and Elide had already worked with her before and Aelin knew where Manon was, violence usually followed. It was something Aelin loved about that woman, and she also found it hot as hell. Okay, maybe she had a bit of a crush on the white-haired woman. But in Aelin’s defense, Elide did have a crush on her too. It was like a general experience.

“Do you think we’ll be fired if we don’t go back?” Aelin put her cold bottle of water against the back of her neck, in an attempt to cool her down.

“Definitely, Rofle is a dick. I mean have you seen this outfit?” The brunette turned on herself and gestured to the more than revealing clothes. Aelin agreed, if her cousin saw her in this outfit he would have a heart attack. She was suddenly glad this bar opened last week, at least Aedion didn’t know this place. Yet.

“Girls,” Nesryn interrupted them. “Break’s over. Go back to work.”

Aelin undid her ponytail, a forbidden hairstyle in this bar apparently, and went back behind the counter. She wore her best fake smile and ignored the lingering looks on her breast or her backside, winked and flirted back when clients thought they had a chance of taking her home with them. Aelin hid her disgust of these men pretty good, she was proud of herself for it.

She would quit if she wasn’t low on money lately. For hell’s sake, Aedion was paying half of her rent. It had been a very long discussion between them, Aelin would rather live on the street than depend on someone. Aelin got convinced when Aedion made it clear if she didn’t accept he would call her parents. So Aelin put her pride aside and accepted, at the only condition Aedion let her pay him back whenever she could. He had argued but accepted. The Ashryver family wasn’t very good at compromise, but at least they tried.

“Aelin, go take the order of table nine,” Manon yelled at her over the background noise. Aelin gave her a thumb up as she kept pouring alcohol in the shaker.

When Aelin was done making this cocktail she wiped her hands and walked toward table nine. She looked down to grab her little booklet and pen she left in one of the pockets of her apron as she said, “Hi, welcome to the sea dragon, what can I-” She stopped as she took in who was sitting in front of her. Lorcan Salvaterre, Fenrys, Connall Moonbeam, and of fucking course, gods-damned Rowan Whitethorn. She took a deep breath and smiled, but she knew her fake smile wasn’t as convincing as it was minutes before.

She focused on Fenrys and Connall, the only ones she could stand at that table. “What can I get you?”

Fenrys had an amused look on his face, accentuated by his smirk full of wickedness. “So this is your new job?” He asked, and if she didn’t know him the look could be considered genuine.

“You knew it, Fen. I told you hours ago.” Rowan’s head whipped to Fenrys, and Aelin’s face suddenly mirrored Fenrys’s. She didn’t know what the blonde had in mind, but if it annoyed Whitethorn, Aelin was on board. Rowan’s head turned back toward her and he narrowed his eyes. “Got something on my face, Whitethorn?” She couldn’t help it, she had to always argue with him.

“Yeah, all that make-up,” his eyes roamed over her body, it took everything in her not to move under the weight of his gaze. “What’s that outfit anyway?” His disdain was quite obvious.

“My uniform, dumbass.” She tightened her grip around her pen and notebook so much that her knuckles turned white. “Be careful, it almost sounds like you care.” It was one of the most sarcastic things she had ever said in her life, the look in his eyes was enough proof.

“Why would I care about you when you’re dressed like a stripper?” He crossed his arms and Aelin had to force herself not to stare at his muscles and at the tattoo on his arms. He was a handsome bastard and it made him quite hard to hate.

“So, no respect for sex workers, Whitethorn? Why am I not surprised?”

“No, actually I respect them a lot. You’re the only person I don’t respect.” It took everything in her not to punch him in the face right now, but that’s what he was waiting for. It was like he loved to see her lose control.

“I’m going to enjoy spitting in your drink.”

“Do that and I’ll have a nice chat with your boss, good luck to find another job, princess.” He was getting angry, Aelin loved that, it meant she was winning their little game.

“Feel free to do it, it just means you’ll have to share that splendid bathroom with me longer.” She winked at him and wiggled her brows. Rowan clenched his jaw, another sign of his anger.

“Can you two stop for a minute? I’m thirsty.” Lorcan Salvaterre interrupted them and Aelin rolled her eyes. She wasn’t exactly on friendly terms with Lorcan either, but instead of always arguing as she did with Rowan, they just ignored each other.

“Who are they?” Elide asked as Aelin prepared her roommates�� order. The four of them wanted a beer, classic.

“Two of them are the bane of my existence and the two others annoying but very pretty.”

“I want him in my bed,” Elide said as she bit her lip. Aelin whipped her head toward the guys, trying to know which one she was talking about.

“I have no idea which one you’re already planning to get naked but one of them is gay and the other three aren’t good options.”

“Great, I don’t want good and I don’t want to be good. And It’s the tall one.” Elide winked and left before Aelin could say anything. Of course, Elide would be attracted to Lorcan. Alein went back to their table, accidentally spilling a little bit of Rowan’s beer on him when she accidentally tripped. He swore at her but she decided to ignore it, instead, she pushed him so she could sit next to him to be right in front of Lorcan.

“You,” She pointed at Lorcan, with her smile full of mischief.

“Don’t look at me like that.” She shook his head and she heard the twins laugh.

“What’s your type of woman?”

“Everything you aren’t.”

“I’m gonna look past that insult because I am an amazing woman,” she was cut off by Rowan’s snort. “You shut up, you’re thirty and still single.” She looked back at Lorcan but heard Rowan correct her on his age. His highness was still twenty-nine for three months. “What about 5”2, brunette, very very scary. She’s also one of the prettiest women I’ve ever seen, but unfortunately, she doesn’t have good taste. I’m not her type but you are.” She winked at him. Rowan muttered something that sounded a lot like “We aren’t teenagers anymore” but she ignored him.

Lorcan furrowed his brow, Aelin could see him hesitate. “Where?”

“Want to see her dance?” Aelin didn’t wait for the answer and walked back to the bar.

Rowan was mesmerized.

The moment Aelin Ashryver Galathynius started dancing was the moment he lost his mind.

He hated her for it, hated her for being the first thing anyone looked at when they entered a room. Hated her for being the most attractive woman he had seen in a while.

She had been raised to become this. Well, not to become a barmaid in a piss-poor bar in Doranelle. But to become the type of woman everyone looked at, everyone wanted.

With Evalin Ashryver as her mother, how could Aelin become something else? Her mother was an incredible actress, and one of the most famous ones. She was also known for being cunning, ambitious, and beautiful as a sin.

And with Rhoe Galathynius as her father, Aelin knew how to captivate an audience. Rhoe was a legend of football. Whenever he played, all eyes were on him. He was smart and as cunning as his wife, a perfect match if you listened to the papers. That’s probably why he was a coach now, and that’s also why his team almost always won.

So Aelin was born with amazing genes, a talent to bewitch everyone who looked at her, and a bank account bigger than anyone should have. That’s why he didn’t understand why she would be working here and living with five guys instead of just having a big apartment in the richest part of town. But Aedion had told everyone to never mention her parents, so they all listened. Everyone was careful to do just that, maybe because Lysandra had threatened to cut their favorite body part and to make them eat it if they ever mentioned Rhoe’s or Evalin’s name. All that the day they met her when she was one month away from turning eighteen.

Now this she-devil had him under her spell. He couldn’t stop looking at the way her hips moved perfectly on beat with the music, at the way her hands wandered over her stomach, the side of her breast, and then lifted her hair in the air. Or even at how close she was to her friend, the one who is apparently interested in Lorcan. Both of them were giving a show, and when Rowan finally looked away from the blonde it was to find almost every man with their eyes on her. She knew what she was doing, he knew she did. It made him want to yell at her, even at work she couldn’t help but want attention.

Aelin turned her head, and their eyes met. Rowan sat straighter, swallowing. Her sinful mouth turned into a smirk and she accentuated her hips’ movements, aware of Rowan’s eyes on her. It was also something they did, along with arguing. They caught the other checking the other out, but wouldn’t call them on it. They would never bring it up, it was like a secret between them. He shouldn’t find the idea of sharing something with her so exciting.

She never stopped looking at him as she danced, sometimes she would bit her lip, sometimes her hands would wander on her breasts. He had to stop himself from growling as his cock hardened. Aelin was a sin.

Who did she think she was? He hated her, he made that clear. She hated him, and she had also made that clear. Why did she feel the need to tease him? She was trying to mess with him, and it was working.

The bubble broke when one of Aelin’s coworkers interrupted her, telling her and her friend she was dancing with to go back to work. Rowan couldn’t help but stare at her ass as she walked back behind the counter. He would have felt bad for it, wasn’t it for the slight sway of her hips and the look she threw at him when she started serving people again.

“I want her.” Lorcan almost grunted, and against his best wishes and even if they weren’t talking about the same girl, Rowan agreed.

Aelin wasn’t tired, no, tired wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what she was feeling. It was almost three in the morning and her shift ended in one hour, thank god she wasn’t supposed to close the bar today.

A customer asked for another sex on the beach, his fourth of the night. Aelin smiled as she prepared it but decided it would be his last of the night. Rofle didn’t want his barmaids to stop clients from drinking because more drinking means more money. But all the money in the world wasn’t worth the customers’ life. She would never forgive herself if someone had a car accident or became an alcoholic because of the drink she served. She gave the drink and took the man’s car keys, saying she would call a cab when he wanted to leave.

Aelin’s phone started ringing and when she saw who was calling her she sighed. If she was tired now it would be worse by the end of the night.

“Hello,” She answered as she got into a cupboard to find some quiet.

“Hi, you’re Aelin Galathynius?” A deep male voice asked. From the tone of his voice, the man must be as exhausted as Aelin was.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Aelin already regretted picking up this gods damned phone.

“I’m sorry to bother you but a guy’s at my bar. He’s tall-”

“Yeah, I know exactly who it is. Let me guess, he is drunk and absolutely refuses to call a taxi because taxis are disgusting. He also told you to call me, didn’t he?”

“You got it all right.”

“Okay.” She sighed. “Where’s your bar?” She nodded when he told her the address and told him she would be here in half an hour.

Aelin went to Elide, apologized, and asked her to cover the rest of her shift. Elide understood, it wasn’t the first time Aelin had to leave for the same reason. Elide was pissed but not because she had more work, but because she didn’t want Aelin to go.

Aelin took her car and drove, maybe a little slower than she should but it was night. Roads were dangerous, especially on a Saturday night. Aelin parked right in front of the sidewalk. She took her phone and wanted to text Aedion to tell him she would be late but her phone was dead. Amazing.

Aelin walked into the bar and realized she didn’t take time to change clothes, she was still in her uniform. She crossed her arms, trying to cover her chest as best as she could. Even if she had liked to have Rowan Whitethorn watching her tonight, she didn’t want anyone else to look at her this way.

It didn’t take long to see who had called Aelin, she walked toward him, the bartender looked relieved someone would come to pick him up. “I’m gonna take that.” She told him, and he gave her the car keys. Aelin turned her head to grey eyes watching her body, of course, he would notice her lack of clothing. “Let’s get you home,” Aelin said, trying her best not to let her anger out, it’s not going to help tonight.

“Hello, darling,” Arobynn purred.

tag list:

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @mx—spelled //

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fic #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass #fire on fire #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #aelin galathynius

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years ago

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Petty Pair (Raymond/F!Reader)

Summary: Reader wants to fuck Raymond to spite his father. Raymond thinks that’s really hot, actually.

A/N: This idea came into my head and literally never left. It lives rent free in my head, and I hope you feel it now, too. Couple: Raymond/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW) Content Warning: Fingering, penetrative sex, protected sex, mild exhibitionism, getting caught Word Count: 5k

MASTERLIST

——————

There was a grand total of one functioning bar in this town at this hour of night. This drastic and unforgivable shortage of places for me to buy alcohol was also the only reason I found myself frequenting said bar.

After about an hour of swatting off a group of men that were objectively disgusting, I resigned myself to fate and the realization that the night would turn out no better than it would have if I hadn’t tried to get drunk on cheap liquor. I was ready to pack up, close out, and fuck off back home when it happened.

A familiar face walked through the door. Familiar, I suppose, was a stretch. I’d only seen his face in one picture – a picture I’m pretty sure was meant to be thrown away. It stuck out to me because it was the first indication that I got that Donald Wadsworth had a son. And a cute son, much less.

My brain scanned through buried memories to try and find the one where his recently divorced mother had told me his name. I knew the memory existed somewhere, surrounded under a mountain of bullshit, but it was so hard to focus when I was watching the poor kid shuffle over to the bar and plop himself down against the counter.

It had taken me that long to realize that he was wearing pajamas. Cute.

His fashion choices and bedhead paired nicely with the pout he wore when he shyly scanned the room. Altogether, everything about him assured me that he literally couldn’t have been less intimidating if he tried. That theory was further solidified by the way he shrunk against the counter when he saw me approach. By the time I sat down next to him, he’d all but disappeared under his jacket.

“Hey, you’re... Raymond, right?” The name came to me at the same time his eyes locked with mine. The dark hazel color shone almost gold in the orange hue of the bar.

“You’re Donald’s son?” I asked as warmly as possible while using his father’s name. Which is to say, not warm at all.

“Unfortunately,” Raymond droned with a similar disdain.

“I’ll say,” I chuckled as I leaned forward to match his slouch over the bar. “I work with your dad.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

That alone seemed to cause a shift in his entire demeanor. It didn’t surprise me. Most of the women in this town were brainwashed into thinking that if a guy didn’t outright assault you at first glance, he was probably a solid dude.

And Donald Wadsworth was not a solid dude.

“He’s like, a giant fucking asshole,” I said.

Raymond’s eyes lit up.

“Right?!” he shouted back, practically falling from his seat in his enthusiasm as he continued to yell, “I know!”

There was no keeping it together with this caricature of a man, but I didn’t really want to, either. In the few seconds I’d interacted with him, everything about him changed from defensive to relaxed. Like all he needed was someone to tell him that it wasn’t all in his head.

Unfortunately, I was going to need to ask something of him. But I figured he wouldn’t mind what I was going to request.

“But hey, that’s actually why I wanted to talk to you. I have a favor to ask you.” I kept my tone even and nonchalant, trying to avoid coming off as parental.

He eyed me as warily as I expected, tugging his drink a little bit closer as he started to shrink in on himself again.

“I’m gonna be honest,” he mumbled, “there’s not really anything I can do to hurt him that I haven’t already tried.”

There was no need for self-degradation. Raymond might have thought he tried everything, but from his body language around a woman, it was safe to assume he’d never tried my plan.

“Wanna bet?”

Raymond sighed in surrender before he shrugged, “Sure. What’s the favor?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

It wasn’t my intention to wait until the drink was in his mouth before I spoke, but it was how it ended up happening. And almost instantaneously, he spat the drink out over the bar before calmly squeaking, “I’m sorry, what?”

“I want to have sex with you,” I repeated like it was the most normal thing in the world. Then I sought confirmation that was only a little important in the grand scheme of things. “You’re staying at his place, right?”

“Just for tonight, yeah—" he started, but all I heard was the ding of a checkmark on my mental list that meant we were cleared for the next step.

“Great. We should do it there, then. Tonight.”

Raymond’s tongue stuck out from between his teeth, the visual of restraint matching his narrowed, shifty eyes and fidgety legs.

“I feel like I’m missing something...” he muttered.

I heard him, but I didn’t really care. The clock was running, and I was ready to get something good out of this night. Possibly even two good things, if he ended up being as helpful as his cute, submissive demeanor implied.

“I’ll drive. You want to go now?”

“I— I mean, sure, yeah,” he stumbled over the words and his own feet as he left the bar. “We can… go have sex.”

I laughed at how cool he tried to sound because he definitely failed. I reached past him to drop cash on the bar and grabbed his hand on the way back. The amount of warmth stormed it in was shocking, considering all the blood seemed to be in his face, ears, and the tent in his pants. But the comfort of his fingers interlocking with mine on instinct did more for me than he knew.

“Great. Let’s go.”

Raymond was silent on the way out and into the car, which was about what I expected from him. Every glance his way would show the gears slowly turning in his head, like he was still trying to grasp whether my proposition was serious. Like I was trying to murder him or something.

When the car started, so did some sliver of confidence in him, although he still cleared his throat before he asked, “Do you need directions, or…?”

“No, I’ve been to his place before.”

That caution and suspicion returned and multiplied, and before I even pulled out of the parking lot he had shrugged down in the seat and buried his face in his hands.

“Please tell me you didn’t fuck my dad,” he whined in the most dramatic manner possible.

I couldn’t blame him for the theatrics, although the implication was not at all appreciated.

“Absolutely the fuck not,” I spat, my face curling into a pure expression of disgust. At least we both felt similarly on that note.

“Thank god.” The relief flowed through him, allowing him to sit back up to his previously half-straight position. I decided that it was probably best to cut him some slack for assuming I would ever fuck that devil of a man, because I got the sinking suspicion that he might have known a couple girls his age that had done exactly that.

That thought led me back to the very reason I was there at all, and a chill ran down my spine as I muttered without thinking, “Wasn’t for a lack of his trying, though.”

The whole tone in the car shifted in seconds. One glance over at Raymond confirmed the repressed rage and sadness rolling off of him in waves that were more accurately described as a tsunami.

It was just unsettling enough that I snapped my eyes back to the road, giving a nervous chuckle to tell him that it wasn’t that serious. I didn’t need him to defend my honor, or anything. It did enough to quell most of the rage, but that self-pitying sadness was still there when he let out a shy, quiet plea.

“I don’t want to pry but… Will you tell me what this is about?”

“You really want to know?”

It was one thing to know the vague generalities of how much his father sucked, but another thing entirely to paint him a vivid depiction of what he was willing to do.

“Yeah,” he said with fiddling hands, “I think.”

I think he was trying to do me a favor. I think listening to my story was meant to be a sign to me that there were people who would care — people who would believe me. He clearly didn’t actually want to hear the story, but I appreciated his willingness to experience some discomfort to make up just a small part of his father’s misdeeds.

“So, I’m new at the school, right? It’s awkward. It’s a small town and everyone knows everyone,” I started, trying to look over at Raymond whenever I could to show him that I was doing alright. The poor thing looked like he needed the reassurance more than I did.

“Your dad very quickly tried to take me under his wing, despite my very obvious discomfort.”

“Sounds like him,” he interrupted with a pissed-off murmur.

“Yeah. I just kind of accepted his help because I was too scared to say no, but then one day he…” My voice trailed off, the words getting clogged in my throat and muddled on my tongue. It wasn’t that bad of a story; it should have been easier to explain. But something about Raymond being there, him listening to me so intently and with such a strong desire to make it better, that made it hard to speak. Eventually, I managed to start again. “He cornered me in the damn teacher’s lounge and—“

“Please don’t give me a reason to kill him. I’ve been toeing that line my whole life, and I will definitely do it.”

That time when Raymond cut me off, it was very clear to me that he was not kidding. He enunciated the words so clearly, venom dripping from his tongue and his chest heaving with a determination coming through clear, despite his best efforts to hide it.

He was a sweet kid.

“He didn’t try to touch me or anything. It wasn’t like that,” I said with an awkward smile, reaching over to pat his thigh. The action alone seemed to calm him, almost like a dog that was being told to stand down.

He was a really cute kid.

But I had to finish this stupid story. I had to give him all the information so that he would know exactly why I’d invited myself into his bed. Sex is sort of a big deal, you know? I mean, not always, but the other party in spite sex should probably know who exactly the target is.

“He just made it very clear that he felt I owed him something, and I kindly told him to fuck off,” I concluded just as we pulled up the dirt drive. The bumps in the road seemed to shake some other memories in Raymond, and he just shook his head to rid himself of those, along with the story he’d just heard.

He looked over at me with a new understanding and something else.

“So that’s what this is about?”

“Yep,” I said with a pop of my lips to match the sound of my car door opening. He clambered out of the car much less gracefully, which was funny considering he’d had significantly less to drink.

But I figured I would have the decency not to laugh, instead just joining him on the passenger side of the car to finish our conversation before we went inside. I wanted to give him the chance to change his mind. I wouldn’t have blamed him. Although I was the one who would have to deal with the brunt of the downfall, Donald wasn’t my family. Like, I wouldn’t be at his holiday dinners. Then again, I’m not sure Raymond would be, either.

When I looked up from the thought, Raymond was staring at me. It wasn’t like before, though. There was nothing suspicious or any sign of concern in his eyes. No, they were filled with a very different feeling.

“You want to fuck me just to spite my dad?” he asked with a deadly seriousness.

I thought about it for exactly one second before I shrugged at the extremely accurate summary.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“God,” Raymond practically groaned, throwing himself on me and pinning me against the car with his hips before he growled, “that’s so fucking hot.”

Those same lips that produced the words quickly covered mine with the same force he’d used to pin me against the metal. I didn’t fight him at first because, well, I didn’t want to. It was the first clear sign he’d given that he really wanted to do this, and who was I to argue with how he expressed his consent?

Also, he was like, a really, really good kisser. The desperation he felt came through in his tongue as it tangled with mine, drawing a quiet, muffled moan from me that alerted me to how quickly this would escalate if I didn’t shove the boy off me.

Which, I did.

“Raymond— inside,” I ordered with the little breath I had left.

He was confused for a second, almost like he’d blacked out in the meantime. But then his tongue swept over his lips, his hands digging through his pockets for his keys before he hastily answered, “Right. Let’s go.”

It made sense to be quiet then, as the two of us tip-toed through the much too large house. Our occasional giggles were louder than our feet, and the whole experience was seriously reminiscent of sneaking into your boyfriend’s house as a teenager. And when we walked through his bedroom door, the sight stirred up even older memories. From the UFO poster and alien sheets to the boxes filled with dinosaur toys and action figures, I felt like I’d walked straight through a time machine into Raymond’s childhood.

“Sorry about… all of this,” he said with an overly apologetic tone, like this scene didn’t perfectly suit what I was planning. Like it wouldn’t be salt in the wound for Donald to see me fucking his son in the most juvenile room I’ve ever seen in my life.

“Ugh, it’s perfect. You are literally a man-child.”

I didn’t mean it as an insult, but his nervous shifting told me he took it that way. But when I kicked off my shoes and started to disrobe my outer layers, it was becoming obvious to him again just how serious I was about this whole thing.

“Sorry, but—“

“Stop saying sorry, Raymond.”

“Sorry,” he squeaked back, doing the exact thing I’d just told him not to do. I shot him a warning glance and watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in return. Then, still worrying the hem of his pajama shirt between his fingers, he looked away as he asked, “Are you sure you actually want to have sex with me?”

I was a little too busy at first to answer him. I was already rustling through the bedside table to find a condom that I was absolutely positive would be there. When I finally found it, I turned my attention back to the blushing boy.

“Why are you asking? Do you want to have sex with me?”

“Yes!” he answered with a clear excitement, only to lose it immediately. “But I would have wanted to have sex with you even if my dad wasn’t a pervert.”

“Awww, thanks,” I cooed with feigned sincerity. Raymond was still just pouting, though. I was learning more each second just how starved of affirmation this boy had been. But it wasn’t like I could just start praising him; the poor thing would have whiplash if I wasn’t careful. There was no worse mood-killer than crying, either, so I settled for a joke.

“I’d probably have sex with you, too.”

“Probably?” he responded with a smile and a seat next to me.

“It’s pretty likely, depending on how much we talked first,” I explained as I helped him out of his coat. I even managed to start undoing his pajama top buttons before he realized it was happening.

He didn’t stop me when he did.

“I don’t know if that’s an insult or not,” he said, instead.

With a coquettish grin, I leaned in to whisper against his lips, “And you never will.”

There was absolutely no resistance from Raymond when I grabbed hold of his collar, tugging him on top of me as I laid down on the tiny twin bed. Despite all of his insecurity, he didn’t hesitate to kiss me again, either. This time it was somehow even more heated, like he was trying to pour all of his heart into it.

I almost warned him that he had better cool it if he didn’t want to risk getting me hooked, but I was too late. He was already busy undoing the buttons on my own top and gently kneading my chest through the fabric of my bra, and I was quickly losing track of which of us was more into what was happening.

It didn’t really matter, but just in case he was still worried that I might not want to be there, I snuck my hand down and under the waistband of his pajamas.

“Fuck!” he cursed in a hushed whisper, his body buckling forward far enough that he almost dropped all his weight on me. It was so damn cute that I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Don’t be too loud or we’ll never get to the fun part,” I warned, my voice barely a whisper in his ear.

His very eloquent response was a breathless, “Shit.” I couldn’t blame him, though. It was honestly more than I expected him to be able to enunciate when I grabbed hold of his dick and began making soft strokes.

It was obvious that he was trying very hard to stay quiet, but the whimpers and whines were falling from his mouth so quickly that I was forced to kiss him just to muffle the noise. Thankfully, Raymond took the hint that he needed to be quiet and decided to redirect the attention from himself back to me. He accomplished that task by pulling away from me just far enough that he could grab hold of my pants and underwear and roughly pull them down my thighs. The speed and force lit a fire deep in my gut, my whole body breaking out in goosebumps as I allowed myself to enjoy just how badly he wanted me. I’m sure the spite thing had a lot to do with it, too, but it had been a long time since a man was so clearly into me. It was an unavoidable conclusion in every touch from him.

A much-too-loud moan caught in my throat when he returned, slipping his fingers into my heat as he laid another feverish kiss against my lips. But it broke almost immediately with his own choked moan, followed by a low, breathy observation.

“You weren’t kidding about wanting this.”

“Nope,” I replied quickly, trying to control the noises coming out of my mouth by replacing them with words. It only sort of worked when I keened, “Fuck, you’re better at this than I thought.”

Raymond didn’t even stop, continuing to curl his fingers inside of me with each thrust. He did smile, though. A cheeky, borderline annoying smile that told me he knew what a bastard he was being.

“Again, I can’t tell if that is a compliment,” he said with an overwhelming amount of sarcasm as he watched me squirm under him.

I chose to ignore the taunt, opting to grab the condom from the bedside table and throw it directly at his face instead. “Put the fucking condom on, Raymond.”

There was less commentary from the peanut gallery from that point on. I did enjoy the show, though. As I removed my bra, I watched with rapt fascination as he stripped himself of his clothes. My desire grew at an exponential rate at the sight of him slipping the condom on. I’d gotten some idea of the size of him with my hand, but to see something so lewd in such an innocent room and on his shy little figure was something else.

Raymond shrunk a little under my gaze, only regaining his confidence when he saw the way my teeth dragged over my bottom lip. I ran my hands over my body that was still on display for him, thoroughly enjoying the way I could make his eyes go wherever I wanted with such a simple motion.

“Fuck me, Raymond.”

I heard his breath catch and watched the shiver flow through him at the order. Sure enough, he started to follow my instructions and lined himself up at my entrance with adorably shaky hands. But then, right before I got what I came for, he paused.

“Are you su—“

I was tired of waiting. Hooking my leg around his waist, I forced Raymond to thrust forward. My assistance didn’t take any of the pleasure out of it when he was finally, fully inside of me. I couldn’t stop the way my back arched, pressing my chest against his with a wanton cry.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mumbled into my hair, burying his face in the crook of my neck as he adjusted to the new set of sensations.

I only gave him a few seconds to get used to it, fully ready to get the release that already felt so close.

“Fuck me,” I whined, already starting to roll my hips against the boy blubbering curses into my skin.

“O-Okay,” he muttered in the most adorable fashion.

That shyness was contrasted strongly by what followed. For all his whimpers and trembling, Raymond didn’t seem to mind the way the bed would creak under us. In fact, it seemed that he was playing his own game, trying to elicit as many noises from me as he could get from the bed.

On instinct, my hands rose to try to still the headboard. But to my surprise, they never made it. The man above me had grabbed hold of one wrist, pinning it against the pillow to stop me. That simple, thoughtful act was enough to almost send me over the edge right then, but I held on for what I knew would come.

My moans were another story. They seemed so inevitable, with Raymond slamming into me with a progressively rougher force until I rode that line between pain and pleasure. I could see it on his face, too, that we were barreling full speed to the inevitable.

So, it was as good a time as any for me to set the next step in motion. With full volume and a pitch nearly an octave higher than usual, I screamed, “Yes, Raymond!”

That cheeky little bastard laughed. That noise was such music to my ears, that I couldn’t just stop there.

“God, yes! Fuck me harder!” I cried dramatically while drawing out the words. In a way, I was over exaggerating for effect, but I was also actually having a great time. In fact, it was the best sex I’d had in a long time.

Raymond, catching on to the plan that I’d never explicitly explained, joined in with his own chant of my name, mixed with deep moans rumbling in his chest. I ran my nails down his back, seeking to elicit the higher pitched sounds I knew he was capable of when I realized just how much fun I was having with him.

It was also, of course, super fucking hot. But how often do you get to have this much fun with a random one night stand you found at the bar? Not often enough, I decided.

“Please, Raymond! Harder!” I begged, both in accordance with my previous moans and also because it was what I needed.

I couldn’t decide on a word to describe that wild look on his face, but Raymond had no problem following through with my request. Releasing my wrist, he sat up on his knees, grabbing hold of my hips and lifting them so that he could come down between them at a new angle.

That angle, it seemed, left him bottoming out inside of me with each brutal thrust. My legs were actually shaking around him, my back barely touching the bed as I threw my head back on that damn alien pillowcase.

The clacking of the headboard against the plaster shook the hung UFO picture, which ended up clattering behind it with about as much grace and subtlety as Raymond and I shared in that moment.

But that crashing also masked the sound of the door slamming open, just as I’d been waiting for. And for a long moment, neither of us even looked over to the light filtering in from the hallway. Instead, we locked eyes with each other as the two of us simultaneously reached our peak.

I was so, so glad that I didn’t look away. I kept my eyes firmly on Raymond as he threw his head back, forcing himself as deep in me as he could and holding me against him as I nursed him through his orgasm with my own. His mouth, though dropped open, was curved in a satisfied smile, one last moan tearing through the two of us before he promptly collapsed on top of me.

Then, it finally came. Donald’s voice bellowing, “What the fuck is going on in here?!”

—

As Raymond and I sat in my car that night, there was a much more relaxed atmosphere. Whether the catharsis was from the sex or the big fuck you to his father, the two of us were just basking in the afterglow of the overall experience.

Of course, he was also laughing at the fact I was currently wrapped up in his alien bedsheet.

“We could’ve gotten your clothes, you know.”

“There was no way in hell I was going to drop this sheet in front of that man,” I said through my laughter, my mind replaying the chaos of the last few minutes over again in my head.

“Probably a good call,” Raymond answered.

But then another thought occurred to me, which caused my face to contort into a disgusted grimace.

“You’d better go get my underwear and bra later, though. He cannot keep those.”

“Will do. Promise,” he said with a little nod that ended with him staring at me with an absolutely smitten look plastered on his face.

“You can keep them, though,” I offered, reaching over and pretending like I could actually fix the birds nest on his head.

“Thanks. I’m flattered,” he said while chasing after my hand that eventually settled on his cheek. His face was still flushed, his eyes still only half opened as he nearly fell asleep against my palm. I wondered if it was from the orgasm, or if it was just the first time in a while he’d felt safe enough to do it. He must’ve seen the worry in my eyes, because he interrupted the thought with another question.

“Did you accomplish your goal?”

I thought about it for a second, dragging my fingers down his face before I pulled back with a sigh. “I feel satisfied,” I decided. “What about you?”

Raymond also took the chance to think about it before he nodded with more enthusiasm than before.

“I feel pretty good,” he said proudly.

“That’s all? Just pretty good?” I replied with an annoyed click of my tongue. I mean, I was wrapped in his bedsheets after just helping him achieve one of the most satisfying catharses of his life, and all he had to say was ‘pretty good?’

But then I saw it, that little sparkle in his eyes that showed me he just wanted to rile me up before he gave his real answer.

“It was fucking glorious.”

It wasn’t even the words that filled my heart with pride, but the way his whole expression softened as he said it. He obviously meant it with every fiber of his being, and I couldn’t help but fall in love a little bit at the sight.

“Sorry I got you kicked out,” I said to distract myself from that dangerous line of thought.

“Not the first time. Hopefully the last,” he nonchalantly shrugged as I turned the key in the ignition. We hadn’t actually planned on what to do from this point, but I certainly had some ideas.

“You can stay at my place,” I slurred through my exhaustion, “I have a guest bedroom if you feel weird staying in mine.”

But Raymond didn’t answer. He just laughed, shaking his head and rubbing a heavy hand over his tired eyes.

“What?” I asked, a little worried I’d made a mistake.

“Nothing,” he reassured with that stupid fucking grin that was soon aimed straight at me, “it’s just… You’re asking me if I want to sleep with you. Again.”

“Yeah, what about it?” I laughed, turning to pull out of the driveway. The bumps didn’t bother Raymond that time.

“I’d love to,” he said as we turned onto the main road, his hand finding mine on the gear shift.

“Great.” Allowing the relief to flow through his hand and into me, I realized that the reason I’d had so much fun with this random one night stand was because a large part of me knew it was never going to be just that.

“You know, my bed’s not a twin, and it doesn’t creak, so…” I trailed off, hoping that he would be clever enough to put it together.

“So what?”

He was not. But that was okay, because I realized that was exactly what I loved about him.

“Never mind,” I sighed, “I’ll show you in the morning.”

——————————————————

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