#So I just left my little ruby studs in. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

absolutepokemontrash · 2 years

Note

Hi Hi! I love your humour and your world building skills so I wanted to ask, what do you think the brothers palaces look like? Is mammon’s gilded with gold and jewels in every corner? Is asmo’s pink? (And possibly filled with ahem… fun stuff?) has diavolo or Solomon ever visited or seen the inside of them? I loved your description of Lucifer’s palace and black throne before

Nonny lemme kiss you I loved writing this request!

The Brothers’ Castles

(Warning, this HC set does involve scenes of violence, so beware of that! The POV characters are not MC, so don’t worry, at this point, the brothers would never hurt their human ^.^)

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Lucifer

Your eyes snap open as air fills your lungs. You look from side to side, your knees and hands wrapped in chains cold enough to give you chills. You quickly realize that you’re being forced to kneel. You hiss in annoyance under your breath, oh how you loathe to kneel.

As your eyes travel the semicircle shaped room, you see a sparse amount of art in shining, ornate gold and silver frames lining the dark stone walls. Low blue burning candles are the only source of light in the entire room, as deep red curtains cover the windows.

A matching red carpet with a silver trim in the centre of the room leads up to a throne, black as obsidian and studded with what looked like diamonds. Behind it, wiry silver metal beautifully shaped into peacock feathers splayed out, sparkling rubies placed in the centre of each feather, giving the entire decoration the appearance that each gem was an eye staring down at you.

You almost shake your head and laugh, how ridiculous, you roll your shoulders and stand up straighter, perusing the room with a smile on your face. You feel years younger, your lungs filling with fresh air, when just a moment ago you were gasping for air under the weight of your age.

Wait… how are you here?

A chuckle echoes through the room that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. You almost don’t see him due to the dim light, but two eyes, half lidded, bright, sparkling eyes, stares down at you from the throne.

Deep black feathered wings fan out behind the figure, a small bit of blue candle light reflected off of unusually sharp teeth.

“Well, aren’t you excited?” The voice, deep and smooth mused. You open your mouth to respond, but no sound comes out, your throat seizes and closes, sucking the breath out of your lungs. You make a strangled noise as your chest begins to constrict, which elicits another laugh from the figure. “How rude of you to interrupt my day, I was having the most wonderful conversation with my younger brother, and your arrival down here went and interrupted it.”

The man tilts his head. “Couldn’t you have lived a little longer and died tomorrow?”

Died..? You… that’s right… you died… so where exactly-

A harsh tightening of the chains that had begun to snake up your body cuts off your train of thought. The chains hold for a moment as you begin to feel your bones pop and crack out of place.

Your body screams and throbs with pain as your lungs cry for air, but no sound leaves your mouth.

Then, with a crisp snap of the man’s fingers, the chains loosen. You take a desperate breath as air surges into your aching lungs. The man waits as you catch your soundless breaths, the smile having left his face.

A footstep muffled by carpet, causes your head to snap upwards, the candlelight slowly becomes brighter, illuminating the room more and more in a bright blue glow. The reflection of the burning blue flames dance across the eyes of the winged figure as more and more of his face comes into view, his lips quirk up into a grin.

“You thought yourself important, didn’t you?” He asks. You can’t answer. He steps closer.

“You thought yourself so much better than the other pitiful humans, didn’t you?” Sweat beads on the back of your neck. He comes to a stop in front of you. “So important that you’ve sinned enough to end up here.”

Arms burst through the carpet, wrapping their pale hands around your legs, arms, and neck, pulling you down into the floor. Each hand burns a mark into your skin. Burning heat sears into your back as you desperately try to fight back against their hold.

“Dear me,” he crouches down, his eyes flashing. “How I’d love to put you in your place right now, but alas, I already made plans. I don't plan on letting you make a liar out of me. You aren’t anywhere near as important as the person I’m going to see is to me, so I’ll deal with you later.”

He reaches a gloved hand out, lightly pushing you backwards. Time slows to a crawl. You fall.

If you were shitty enough of a person to land yourself in the presence of the Avatar of Pride, you don’t even get to enjoy the scenery or paintings all that much, because Lucifer keeps the candlelight low.

The light of the flames are tied to both his magic, and his emotions, so if he’s particularly angry or invested in a torture session, the flames will burn an especially bright blue.

Lucifer’s palace as a whole is very traditional. When you think of a gothic palace, you get Lucifer’s palace. There are expertly carved gargoyles sitting above the massive wooden front door that look just so real, there are beautiful and strange plants whose flowers seem to shift and change colours that line the cobblestone path to the door. As you walk up the path, feel free to enjoy the relaxing sounds of the River Styx that loops around the castle. If you’re lucky, you might see a soul or two pop out of the water. (Fun!)

When you open the front door, you see that the black marble floors are always sparkling clean, each couch cushion perfectly fluffed, and what little light that comes in through the stained glass windows turn the room all manner of colours. They’re reminiscent of stained glass art that one would normally find in a church, but that church-like veneer is shattered the moment you actually get a good look at the windows.

Every supposedly great human achievement is pictured, but if you blink, you’ll see what they’re really showing. How behind every “achievement” shown, leads to eventual downfall, all thanks to stubborn human pride.

A few times every couple of centuries, the windows will update all on their own to encompass more modern human failures.

But enough about those, as you continue into the castle, you’ll see Lucifer’s throne room, the grand dining room, the ballroom (ignore the rusty looking stains on the walls, the Little Ds just couldn’t get them out after Lucifer’s last party), the guest rooms, and finally, his bedroom.

His room in the castle is almost a carbon copy of his room at the House of Lamentation, but everything in there just seems older and used significantly less. It’s not uncommon to hear faint music coming from the room while Lucifer is staying there, but the music tends to be covering sounds a bit more… sinister. (Fret not, we can assure you adorable humans that whichever bastard is getting their punishment deserves it ^.^)

And of course Diavolo has visited. He absolutely loves visiting Lucifer’s castle! It’s just so pretty… that and Lucifer looks very hot sitting on his throne like that-

Mammon

The sound of a door closing behind you stirs you from your slumber, but from the looks of things, you shouldn’t have been sleeping at all. You’re standing in the middle of a crisp white entry room, a large modern metal door behind you. The room is almost completely devoid of furniture, but it must have had things in it at some point. The curtain rods that rest at the top of massive floor to ceiling windows are devoid of curtains, but the remains of wispy gold fabric still cling to the metal loops. The lone, plain, black rug at the far end of the room has four dents in a rectangle shape, showing that there must have been something sitting there at one point or another.

You feel compelled to take a step forward, not bothering to resist the urge, you begin to walk through the house.

It’s large, modern, and almost everything inside (which isn’t much) seems to be made of some kind of precious stone or metal. You scoff every time you pass by an empty room, then shake your head and chuckle to yourself. This house just reeked of a nouveau riche moron who bought too much too quickly and then had to sell everything to keep up with the house payments. All in all, the structure itself reminds you of some of the many houses you own, albeit, much less furnished and taken care of.

The only difference was the feeling of sheer emptiness. The house itself was beautiful, but there was nothing inside. Nothing to fill the empty spaces. The oppressive atmosphere causes your gut to clench and your stomach to swirl with anxiety. You quickly attempt to shake it off, cracking your knuckles and moving forward.

As you continue to travel deeper into the home, you notice that small knickknacks begin to litter the sparse accent tables in the halls. Sunglasses, crumpled up receipts, small shiny pieces of metal, just… junk.

As you loop a corner, you see that the hall splits off in opposite directions, but a door sits right in the centre of your view. You walk over, push it open, and are greeted with a courtyard. The rest of the home must encase this place, you think to yourself as you wander outside. The moon shines unusually bright overhead, and the stars twinkle beautifully.

Little balls of light float peacefully around you, landing on bushes and flowers that just can’t be real. They look like they’re made of metal. Sparkling gold and silver daffodils, each petal gently swaying in the faint wind, reflecting the light of the firefly-like creatures. You find yourself smiling, you briefly wonder how much you could make people pay to see these things, then move on.

You come to a clearing, where a man sits sideways on a platinum and gold throne, his legs dangling over the right armrest. The unused back of the chair must have once been studded with all manner of gems, but now, all that’s left are holes in the intricate, delicate, platinum decorations. The seat’s charm and beauty has clearly been dampened by age and a general lack of upkeep. The thing itself must certainly be worth a fortune, if someone would just polish it. The man looks up, spots you, and rolls his eyes.

“Tsk, ‘bout fuckin’ time.”

You open your mouth to reply, but no sound comes out. No matter, because the man speaks again.

“Gotta say, you got a lotta nerve making the Great Mammon wait around for ya, human.” The man flicks his sunglasses off his nose to rest on his head. Previously unseen skeletal black wings slowly stretch and spread out behind him as he casually steps off the throne, a smirk playing on his lips. “Damn, if you could speak, I’d ask ya what your net worth up in the human world was. It’s rude to judge other people’s houses, ya know.”

Your limbs seize up and your mouth goes dry as twisted corkscrew horns burst out of his skull. How did he know what you were doing?! What was he?!

A bird flies out from the trees and lands on the man… demon’s shoulder. A crow. It caws and Mammon lightly scratches its feathers. “Never know who might be watchin’ ya. Who knew sellin’ those curtains would end up being such a good idea in the long run, huh?”

The smirk disappears from his face as he seems to actually notice you once again. Before you can even register what’s happening, he has you by your shirt collar and yanks you off your feet. His sky blue eyes seem to almost glow gold as he glares at you.

“Ya know, I can appreciate a good con, a good trick or scam, but on the level of your bullshit? Well,” Mammon looks away, shakes his head, then pulls you closer to him to the point where your noses are almost touching. Sweat pours down your face as your entire body begins to almost spasm.Through gritted teeth, Mammon growls.

“That really pisses me off.”

He launches you backwards, and in the split second you soar through the air, you watch as the entire garden seems to flash and then-

You stop. A sharp pain explodes in almost every part of your body. You try to move your head to look around, but something has gone right through your neck. You feel leaves tickle and caress your face and arms. He threw you backwards into the flowers, but where were the-

Your eyes roll to your right, and you see that your arm is littered with pointed gold tips that are slowly unravelling to reveal the flowers. Bile rises in your throat as you try to scream again. A crow lands on your left shoulder, and gives you a harsh peck on your eye.

“I noticed ya liked my flowers.” Mammon stands over you, hands almost casually placed in the pockets of his pants. “They were a gift from my lil’ brother. I’ll pass along the compliment. Now…”

He leans in, his fangs glinting in the light. “I’ll just leave ya here to think on what you did, okay? Later.”

And with that, he leaves. The flowers twist and writhe in your skin. You try to scream again.

No sound comes out.

Mammon’s castle is less of a castle, and more like a gawky modern mansion hellscape. He takes minimalism to a whole other level… but not by choice. He basically gutted his castle in order to pay off his gambling debts a while back.

Huh, it’s almost like the castle is a metaphor for something. Something sinful. (My English teachers are probably SO proud of me-)

Overall, the entire place is in a state of disrepair. Mammon doesn’t really want to clean and spruce the place up, so he doesn’t.

The castle is just… sad. That’s all it really is. It could be pretty, but it’s just… not.

(Maybe MC could persuade Mammon to actually decorate and clean the place up. B-but only if they help out too! Got it?)

The last time Mammon actually threw an honest to goodness party there, about thirty of the worst souls broke out of their places in Mammon’s castle and ended up running amok in the Devildom. It took weeks to fix and Mammon is indefinitely banned from throwing parties in his circle after that.

The flowers in the garden were a birthday gift from Asmo a few centuries back. While Mammon was selling everything in his castle, he just couldn’t bring himself to uproot the flowers… so the courtyard is by far the nicest place in the entire building.

Don’t get me wrong, Mammon has tried to move and sell his throne, but it won’t leave the property line, so it’s no use…

Leviathan

The sound of gently rushing water stirs you from your daze. You open your eyes and come face to face with a massive panel of glass built into a rock wall, and dozens of fish swimming around.

You scan your surroundings, the air is damp and cold, there’s no sky above you, just sharp rocks jutting out of the stone ceiling. You shudder slightly at the idea that one may fall on you, but nothing happens. You look deeper into the cave, then look behind you, just two long dark caverns with no end in sight. You hear rushing water in front of you. Casting a final glance at the fish behind the pane of glass, you walk forward.

A harsh gust of wind nearly knocks you over, and you hear high pitched cheering up ahead. You perk up, your heart begins to race. There’s people up ahead!

As you begin to jog deeper into the cavern, almost slipping on the wet rocks, you see what looks like wire protectors stretching across the floor, snaking and curving around corners and up onto the wall. The wire protectors were obviously needed, you furrow your brows as you note that there are teeth marks marring the metal.

You bite your lip and keep moving forward, your steps noticeably quicker than before.

The sound of rushing water grows louder as you round a corner, the wires have crawled up the walls and have begun to rest on the much lower ceiling of the cave. To your right, you see a small pool. A pond in the middle of an underwater cave? How odd.

You cast a quick glance at what’s in the water, and stop dead in your tracks. Your mouth dries up as your jaw drops.

It’s…

Beautiful…

Dozens of brightly coloured glowing coral line the bottom of the pond, fish with scales so many colours that one could mistake them for scattered pieces of a rainbow. Tiny strands of bright green sea grass litter the bottom and sides of the pond walls, fish dart in and out as if they’re playing with each other. You find yourself smiling.

Then your smile fades.

You wish you had something so pretty…

Bitterness clouds your mind as you get up off your knees and stomp away, kicking a few loose stones into the pond, making the surface ripple. You stomp off towards the sound of cheers, ignoring the low guttural growl coming from behind you.

You finally reach the end of the cavern hallway, and your eyes widen. Projected on the cave wall is some kind of split screen racing game, you then turn to the source of the cheers.

A throne, made of sea green stone and studded with pearls so shiny they almost glowed, sat in between two small waterfalls, gently sprinkling into two streams that framed both ends of the room. In the throne sits a man, scrunched up with a controller clutched in a white knuckled grip, and a massive scaly tail thrashing around behind him. You gulp as you realize the man has coral-like horns as well…

Another man sits on the top of the throne, kicking his legs out and frantically tapping buttons on his controller as he blows his stark white bangs out of his eyes, his lips curled into a grin as his car overtakes the other.

Where exactly were you..?

“HAH! I’m gonna win!” The white haired man shouts, the man sitting on the throne lets out a sound that could only be compared to the hiss of a crocodile as his tail thrashes behind him.

Both cars crossed the finish line, but the car on the right screen just barely pulls ahead at the last possible moment. The white haired man lets out a victorious whoop, and hops off the throne, jumping up and down in absolute delight.

“Ha! I finally beat you! I’m the greatest!”

“That’s not fair…” the blue haired man growls, clenching his controller so hard the metal dents. You gulp. “I’ve been playing this stupid game twice as long as you…”

“I guess I’m just the best of the best, Levi.”

“Sh-shut up! You only won because you were button mashing!” Quick as a flash the blue haired man whips the controller away from him, sending it flying through the air, until it slams into your eye.

You try to let out a yelp, stumbling backwards and cradling your bruised socket as pain explodes through your head, but no sound comes out.

“You…” your eyes snap upwards, both the blue haired man and the white haired man are staring at you. The white haired man’s skeletal wings flutter slightly, as an amused smirk spreads across his face.

“Ah, here’s the soul, Levi. What’s this one in for?”

“Shut up, Mammon…” The man- demon- whatever, growls. “I can’t remember…”

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing happens. You feel something coil around your leg, you look down, eye still throbbing, but the moment you do, you are yanked off your feet and being held upside down.

“Stupid…” the blue haired man hisses, before flicking his tail and slamming you down onto the floor.

You feel your body crumple and snap the moment you touch the ground, then, the pain comes. It wracks your entire body and forces a strangled gargled scream out of your throat, pushing air through your punctured and blood filled lungs.

Then, you’re up in the air again.

“I-it’s your fault! If you hadn’t shown up I would have won!”

You hit the rocks again, and again, and again. The pain spreads into a dull ache as your ears begin to ring. You must have bit your tongue at some point, because blood has begun to spurt from your mouth. You hear faint laughter and teasing, but you can’t focus, the ringing is too loud.

As quickly as it begins, the hitting stops, you hang limp and broken in the air again, the blue haired man’s tail still tightly wrapped around your broken leg.

“Tsk… stupid normie…”

With a flick of his tail, you go flying, slamming into the freezing cold water of one of the streams. You slip beneath the surface, the cold water completely paralyzing you. You shut your eyes. It’ll stop now… won’t it?

“Don’t get comfortable…” the blue haired man’s voice bounces around your skull. “Lotan hates it when people disturb the water…”

You open your eyes and see rows upon shows of sharp serrated teeth.

You scream. The jaws clamp shut.

Levi’s castle is basically a giant underwater cave, but the real amazing stuff is in the water.

Since Levi barely ever has company, and insanely sinful acts of envy severe enough to get your ass sent directly to him (do not pass go do not collect 200 dollars) don’t happen all that much, he rarely felt the need to spruce up the actual cave part of his castle.

Under the water though- WOAH. There are plants so colourful and strange, it’s the same story with the other sea-life as well. Every once and a while, when things at home get too stressful, Levi will just hop into the water and swim around with Lotan and his other fishy friends.

All of the water in Levi’s circle is being fed into by all five of the lakes of hell, the Styx (hatred), Lethe (forgetfulness and oblivion), Acheron (woe or misery), Phlegethon (fire), and Cocytus (wailing). Depending on where you want to take a dip, (or where your sinful ass is being dunked like an evil Oreo) you might get burned, your memories ripped from you, all the happiness sucked out of your body, or get filled with hate and rage :D

Most demons that are powerful enough to swim around unbothered have to be invited by Levi, and that shut-in almost NEVER invites people over.

If you find Levi’s room in his cave (you’re going to have to do some swimming) you’re going to see literally every game console in existence hooked up to one giant flatscreen TV. Every bit of furniture in the room is waterproof, so Levi often lets it flood so he can play video games and watch anime underwater.

Satan

You find yourself walking down a well lit hallway, a crystal chandelier twinkling overhead. The walls of the hallway are covered with shining gold wallpaper, pretty, but not tacky. Painting after painting coats the walls, your eyes widen, you see Monets, Rembrandts, Van Goghs, all of them in simple black frames hanging on the walls. You pause and step closer, getting a deeper look at the detailed drawings.

A chuckle reverberates through the air, you turn and see a tall blond man with a charming smile standing behind you. He inclines his head towards the paintings.

“Do you like them?” He asks, gesturing towards the Monets. “I’m quite charmed by the art style, it’s a shame I can’t get my hands on a real Monet or Rembrandt, but copies will do.

You open your mouth to say something, but the man continues speaking, his bright blue eyes flashing, and his smile growing wider.

“A lovely collection, I know, but I have even more deeper in the house. Follow me.” He turns on his heel and begins to walk further down the hall, you follow.

As you walk deeper into the house, following behind the man with the charming smile, well dressed individuals pass by, smiling and bowing their heads to the man, ignoring you completely. Rage begins to bubble in your gut, how dare they ignore you in favour of this guy?

He turns back to look at you, not breaking his stride. “Keep up now, I have a party to get back to.”

You grit your teeth and stomp forward, trailing after the mysterious stranger. You ignore the dazzling decoration, the amount of paintings on the wall begin to thin, being replaced by what looked like family photos. What a mismatched family, you think to yourself as you continue on.

The stranger makes it to the end of the hallway where a large wooden double door sits, and he throws open the door with a level of excitement you weren’t expecting. He throws a wink over his shoulder and gestures for you to come in. Your feet move forward as if they have a mind of their own. The moment you step through the door, the stranger slams it shut.

The room you’ve entered is surprisingly empty, a sharp contrast to the halls that were filled with gorgeous antiques and paintings, and the rooms you could see into were littered with tall bookcases and loveseats. This room’s floor isn’t made of wood, it's smooth linoleum, checkered to look like a chessboard. The furniture looks not… broken, but recently repaired. The only unweathered piece of furniture in the room is a large chair sitting in between a large set of deep green curtains attached to the wall. Well, it is less of a chair and more of a throne.

Deep green cushions rest on the black throne, and the stranger casually wanders over, picking up and fluffing one of the cushions before setting it back down. He turns and looks at you, his eyes sparkling.

“Ah, how rude of me, my name is Satan. Pleasure to meet you.”

…Satan?

“So, how was your time amongst the living humans?” He tilts his head, his shining blond hair brushing against his eyebrows. The moonlight so perfectly bounced off his sky blue eyes. “From what I know about you…”

He pauses, his charming grin morphing into a smirk, he adjusts his pocket square before clasping his hands behind his back. “You were quite the important person. So important that you gambled lives like my brother gambles money.”

Your blood runs cold. Satan steps closer, shrugging smoothly. “You know, I’ve been quite a rude host. You have my apologies.”

You take a step back.

“My older brother, who’s quite the pompous ass by the way, decided to nag about how I’ve been leaving my books lying around and I just can’t stand his stupid holier than thou tone.” He huffs, shaking his head. “And here I am, taking things out on you.”

His arm flies forward, grabbing the collar of your shirt and almost casually throwing you into an empty bookcase that splinters on impact. You attempt to scramble to your feet, body screaming with pain, but he’s standing over you in a second.

“Tsk. I’m just so angry about the whole thing.” Satan slams the heel of his foot in between your shoulder blades, and you can hear the loud snap of bones breaking. “And here you are.”

Yanking you up by the back of your shirt, he scowls. “Here I am, taking out all my anger on you.” He throws you to the opposite side of the room, you hit the hard floor and roll across the ground, coming to a stop at the wall. “You don’t like it very much, do you?”

You weakly raise an arm to protect yourself, but a spiny green tail loops around it, and squeezes. Your eyes water and you try and get out a scream. Satan only shakes his head and chuckles. “Not a pleasant feeling, is it? And yet, it’s what you did to so many…”

Using his tail, he launches you again, then you feel yourself stop harshly mid-flight. You weakly look around, a sickening cracking sound in your neck as you do so. You’re hovering just above his throne, you hear a faint laugh and the sound of footsteps. You slowly move to the floor, and then you’re dropped into a heap on the ground.

“I can’t have you touching that, can I?” Satan says, crouching to your level and taking your face in his clawed hands, his nails bite into your skin, sending needles of pain shooting through your face. “Don’t tell me you’re tapping out already,”

Satan smiles his charming grin, and tilts his head. “I can spare a few more hours.”

Yeah, so remember how I said Lucifer’s house is like a gothic mansion that even the Addams Family would be jealous of? Yea, Satan’s is that, but dark academia.

It’s absolutely stunning inside and outside. There’s large french windows with big billowing curtains, comfy armchairs, hundreds of books packed into shelves… and Satan’s quite happy to invite people over for parties and such.

He keeps it very clean, except for his throne room, he’s tossed around and tortured enough souls that he doesn’t exactly feel the need to fill that room with any valuable furniture.

The River Phlegethon runs through his circle and nearby his palace, so it is hot as hell. (Because it is hell, but whatever).

The reason Satan lets his guests roam relatively freely is because the man has the mind of a detective, so if something gets stolen, he knows, and the thief usually gets thrown into the lava lake of fire just outside.

Similar to his room in the House of Lamentation, his room in the castle is covered wall to wall in bookshelves. It is more neat than his room in the HOL though. This room is basically a retirement home for all of Satan’s favourite old books that he doesn’t want to throw away or donate, but can’t keep in his room.

Sadly, Lucifer made a good point (🤮) about Satan’s castle when Satan tried to sneak a cat in. The cat wouldn’t get enough attention with Satan living at the HOL, and the heat would probably end up hurting the poor thing in the long run, and Satan can’t keep up cooling magic 24/7.

Asmodeus

You awaken to the feeling of rage.

You scan your surroundings, your brows furrowing in confusion as you take in the scene. The harsh pattering of rain hits the rooftop above you, but your eyes can’t help but be drawn to the stark white pillars holding up the ceiling.

Each pillar is intricately carved with designs that a sculptor could only dream of creating, and the marble floors they lay on top of are so perfectly polished that you can see every detail of your reflection. The walls themselves must be mirrors, but the sheer lack of light in the room makes it hard to tell.

You see light pouring out of a room ahead of you, you move forward. A sudden crack of lighting nearly makes you jump out of your skin, you shake your head and continue forward.

The moment you step into the light filled room, you find the source of the rage.

Sitting on a throne made of thin dark wood strips, with a plush pink cushion for the actual seat and surrounded by translucent curtains and fabric, is the most stunning person you have ever seen.

His pinpoint, cold, peach coloured gaze freezes you in place as the heavy rain thunders onto the balcony that opens up behind him. He taps an elegant fingernail against his cheek, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he looks down at you.

You find yourself shrinking beneath his scowl, beating yourself up for somehow upsetting him. Why did you make him angry… how can you fix this… you don’t want him to be angry anymore…

Finally, he speaks.

“You really had to go and die today, didn’t you?” He asks, his voice silvery and almost lyrical. “I had plans for today, and you went and ruined them.”

Lightning strikes again as a roiling ball of guilt forms in your gut and tears begin to build behind your eyes. What can you do to make this better?

He tilts his head ever so slightly, his wavy hair falling over his left eye. “I hate people like you, I really do.”

The dam behind your eyes breaks, and waves of tears crash down your cheeks as you drop to your knees and slam your head down onto the polished marble, nearly cracking your skull in the process.

Please please please-

You lift your head again, blood trickling out of the new gash in your forehead. He’s still angry. You slam your forehead into the floor again. Through your swimming vision you see your blood pooling on the once-pristine marble floor beneath you.

Breathing heavily, your drag your eyes to look up at the beautiful figure, but his stare remains as frigid as the worst winter storm, but his eyes still glow like the sunset through the petals of a rose. The crack of your skull splitting open and the crack of lightning outside meld into one nauseating sound that makes you want to tear your ears off, but as you prepare to hit your head again, you hear soft footsteps against the marble floors.

The figure stands in front of you, you look up, staring with all the reverence and awe that one would stare at a god with. Such a perfect person couldn’t possibly be real. You make your first mistake, you reach out to touch him.

Within a second of your fingers skimming his leg, you hear a sickening snap, then both your hands roll off your wrists and fall to the floor.

Pain sears through your forearms and down to the end of your wrists as blood begins to seep out. It was a perfectly clean break.

“Ugh!” The figure almost shrieks before breaking into a full body shudder. “The mere idea of you touching me is just… just… ugh!”

You’ve upset him more. Make it better.

The figure takes a deep breath, then looks down at your pitiful form serenely, his leathery bat-like wings flutter behind him. If it weren’t for the horns, you might’ve believed he was an angel.

“You know, I’m not a big fan of religion,” he says, his voice as smooth and sweet as the finest melted caramel. “Unless of course everyone is worshipping me, but that’s off topic.”

He crouches down in front of you, your eyes shine as you get a closer look at his dazzling features. Not a single blemish distracts from his perfect face, and there isn’t a single dirty spot on his straight white fangs.

“But there’s this one passage from the Bible I think is positively hilarious, would you like to hear it?” He asks, his peppy and cheerful tone makes you smile, you nod vigorously, blood dripping into your eyes.

“If your right eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to go into hell. Stumbling in this context means ogling people and being a general creep, are you understanding me?” He flutters his eyelashes. You slowly nod your head. He takes your face into his soft, smooth hands, gently caressing your cheekbones.

“Hmmm… maybe you should have learned that while you were still alive…” Quick as the lighting striking behind him, his nails extend and with a sickening squelch, your vision goes completely dark.

A kind of pain you’ve never felt before rips through your eyes up into your brain. Your nerves are on fire, you can’t see, it’s not like holding your eyes closed, it’s just, nothing. The true meaning of the word. You begin to cry, you can’t see him anymore…

You feel someone grab and yank you by the hair, dragging your broken body across the cold floors, then, you're weightless. You fly through the air, drops of rain burning against your wounds, and then you feel your back slam into the mud. You feel around for something, anything, but the rain beats down on you, every part of your body absolutely burning with pain as the rain eats away at your flesh.

Lightning strikes again, you scream.

Holy shit that one was FUN.

Asmo’s castle is as beautiful and extravagant as any Ancient Greek palace would be. Beautiful white stone pillars, perfectly polished marble floors, mirrors that accentuate every perfect feature reflected, sigh it’s just something to die for, isn't it?

Such a shame that Asmo absolutely hates it there.

It rains. It rains it rains it rains and it just keeps on raining. It’s humid and disgusting, and while Asmo is strong enough of a demon to not be hurt by the acid, it’s just such disgusting weather. It ruins his hair, makeup, clothes, everything.

He throws a party there on the one day a century when the rain finally stops. Those parties… they get wild, let's just say that.

Asmo’s throne is surprisingly simple in comparison to his brothers’ thrones. It’s a simple wooden seat with a salmon pink cushion. There’s not much of a back on the seat, and the whole thing looks very flimsy, so Asmo can’t lean back without falling out of it. Large white vases with orchids in them are placed on either side of the throne, they wither when Asmo isn’t at the castle.

Translucent pink curtains are hung behind his seat that leads to a balcony overlooking the rest of his circle, Asmo often just chucks the souls he has to personally torture over the balcony.

If the soul still had their eyes, they’d have noticed that none of the other souls have their eyes intact. Asmo just doesn’t like the idea of them being able to bask in his ethereal beauty.

You’d expect Asmo’s room in the castle to be as pretty, pink and extravagant as the rest of the palace, but you’ll find that that’s not the case. The bed never seems to be too rumpled if that makes sense. Only one side’s duvet cover is pushed to the side, the other half of the bed is completely untouched. But the actual evidence of sleep just looks so old. Like no one has actually slept in that bed in hundreds of years.

The room itself is bordering on messy, something Asmo would never let any room of his normally get. Hell, it even smells musty. In what universe would the Avatar of Lust himself not be lighting scented candles in every room? Well, if you look around some more, you’ll notice that the entire room is basically an extra storage closet. There are old easels and scrapped paintings shunted to the corner of the room, boxes of old clothes from centuries gone by, makeup that actually caused old human nobles to die of the most disgusting skin conditions, just… stuff.

Beelzebub

You awaken to the sound of your stomach rumbling. Putting a hand to your burning stomach, you open your eyes and look around.

The first thing you see is a large wooden seat, no, not a seat, a throne. The throne is massive, it’s made of dark wood, and has a cushion on the seat and back that might be red, but is coated with so much dust that you can’t really tell.

You squint, then frown, you look up at the high ceiling above you and see a high ceiling and massive wooden support beams, each carved into amazing circular designs, but each circle has a massive spider web sitting proudly inside. Dust falls from the ceiling like snow, stinging your eyes.

The rest of the room is similar, everything, mostly made of wood, is coated in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs.

Ugh… the dust in the room is going to suffocate you…

You shakily get to your feet, squinting to try and make out the objects on some of the tables by the walls. Dozens of small picture frames, each glass frame obscured by yet even more dust sits on the tables and walls. You use your thumb to wipe away the dust, and frown at what you find.

Old photos. Some looked like they were taken when the art of photography was in its infancy. A mismatched group of men were present in each picture, all of them dressed in a variety of attire. As the level of dust lessens, the pictures become more modern, better quality, new clothes, different backgrounds. You squint at the final photograph, there was a date at the corner of the page.

May 17, 1956.

That’s weird…the oldest had to have been taken in the late 1800s, and no one in the picture had aged a day.

The sound of the door opening and slamming shut jolts you from your stupor, you whirl around and see a tall muscular man with buzzing fly-like wings knocking on the door.

“Come on Barbatos, I’m sorry… I won’t try and eat anything again…”

“My apologies Beel, but I can’t let you back out while I’m cooking.” A calm smooth voice says. You hear the sound of footsteps down the hall, and more dust falls from the ceiling.

The man turns and narrows his eyes at you, the way the moonlight spills into the room from the high windows illuminates massive teeth and slit pupiled violet eyes.

“Oh… that’s right,” The man’s voice is deep and monotone, the light glinting off his horns. A loud monstrous growl rumbled through the air, causing you to shudder. The man puts a hand to his stomach and grimaces. “I’m hungry…”

His hungry gaze zeros in on you. “Hold still.”

Within a fraction of a second, the man slams his fist into the wall, you barely manage to dodge, you can feel the wind of the blow as you scramble backwards.

“I said hold still.”

He brings down a foot on your prone form, and you desperately roll out of the way and stumble to your feet. Your head whips around, eyes frantically searching for any kind of exit.

The man lunges again, his expression hardening, and the buzzing of his wings grows even louder.

You bolt for the doorway, and begin desperately trying to force open the door, slamming your shoulders against it and silently screaming your throat raw.

You’re yanked away from the door, and spun around, you’re slowly lifted off your feet, your heart hammers in your chest as you peer into his eyes.

“You’re not much but… you’ll do.”

You prepare to scream, he opens his mouth.

I’m going to be completely honest, I can’t think of that much for Beel. Sorry buddy…

His castle is more like a giant hunting lodge with a distinct lack of animal trophies. The place is empty, but not as empty as Mammon’s castle.

As seen in the fic portion, everything is covered in dust. Beel never visits, so he never bothers to ask anyone to clean.

There’s a massive dining room and kitchen area, fit for partying, but seldom ever used. Beel isn’t much of a partier, and he himself isn’t that talented of a chef, so he doesn’t have much use for his castle.

He just finds it… lonely. He likes staying close to his brothers in the House of Lamentation, he’d never want to leave them to live alone in his circle. (The brothers feel the same, but none of them will admit it)

Beel isn’t one for torture either, he’s an “eat and forget” kind of guy.

Overall, it’s a glorified storage room.

…the only thing of note you might be able to find is old gold jewelry, distinctly from the Celestial Realm, all bent and broken, shoved into a box in the corner of one of the rooms.

Belphegor

You yawn, you crack your eyes open and allow your eyes to slowly drift around the cold dark room you’ve found yourself in. You can make out a small bit of moonlight filtering in through dirty cracked windows, but it’s not enough to help you see. Frowning, you get to your feet and squint, trying to adjust to the dark light.

The room is completely frigid, you should be able to see your breath, but there’s no puff of white air every time you exhale. How strange…

As you strain your ears to hear anything, the faint sound of… breathing. Slow, steady, breathing.

Tsk… too much energy… you steel yourself and begin to lumber down the dark hallway in front of you, a gust of wind causes your teeth to chatter.

Your eyes begin to water from the cold, tears beginning to slide down your cheeks. It’s really cold… goosebumps appear on your skin as your hair stands on end.

You hit your knee against a withering accent table, you briefly wonder if your hit might cause it to break, and if you should move it back into its normal place, but you shake your head and move on. Too much work…

A crash behind you nearly causes you to scream, you whirl around and frantically look around, your chest heaving. The accent table was lying on a broken heap on the ground.

The breathing sound ceases, all that remains is the faint ringing of complete silence. Then, the breathing slowly returns. You gulp, you wonder what’s waiting for you deeper in the house…

A faint flicker of light behind the broken table catches your eye…

Two shining purple eyes glow, two lone lights floating in the darkness. The eyes close, and disappear. You slowly begin to back away and try to pick up the pace. With every step the wood floors loudly creak, you wince at every sound.

You round a corner and feel a tap on your shoulder and hear a childish giggle. You jump and slam into the wall, looking around frantically for the thing that touched you, there was a flicker of light reflecting off of sharp, almost angler-fish like teeth, then nothing.

Your pace becomes frantic, another giggle sounds behind you.

“Run run!”

You run.

The shrill creaking of the wood scrapes against your ears, the cold seeping into your bones. The sound of something slowly scratching the walls and shrill giggles cuts through their air.

“Faster! Faster!”

The laughter was just so wrong… the way it scraped against your ears nearly made you clamp your hands over them on reflex. It was like laughter at the scene of a car accident, grinding metal against flesh, screams, pure glee at someone else’s misery. You sprint.

You’re tired, you’re so so tired. The cold makes your eyelids heavy as lead, but you can’t stop, the thing behind you is getting closer.

You see a partially open door at the end of the hallway, you throw it open and slam it shut behind you, the sound echoes off the fragile walls and the entire place seems to shake, dust and fragments of cobwebs fall like gentle snow, and you sigh in relief as the sounds of the thing following you cease.

Until you hear the laughter again, quiet muffled laughter, it just sounds so damn cruel, like you’re the unwitting recipient of some sick childish prank. You hear a faint whisper, tinged with barely held back shrieks of laughter.

“Too loud..!”

The air leaves your lungs, you no longer hear the rhythmic breathing of whatever else was in the house too.

You blink a few times, realizing that this room has light. Sitting in the middle of the room is what looks like a tiny projector, the light pointing upwards and displaying a gorgeous scene of galaxies near and far onto the ceiling, each star twinkles, and the planets, so tiny from this view, peacefully float through space, orbiting around their suns.

It’s peaceful, you think, the laughter has ceased, all is quiet.

…much too quiet.

You hear the creak of a bed, and a pale, frowning face emerges from underneath a blanket. He moves slowly and gently, his annoyed waking glare seems almost childish as he shifts to avoid disturbing someone. You hadn’t seen them before, a shorter person was peacefully sleeping, their head resting on his chest. He slowly strokes their hair.

“Tsk, you had to go and wake me up, huh?” The man asks, his voice is soft and quiet, his eyes sparkle with affection as his gaze shifts down to the person sleeping on his chest. “Rude.”

He seems harmless, his eyes flutter closed, then he seems to shake himself awake. You can’t really blame him, the thing he was lying on was less of a throne and more of a bed. Dozens of pillows of varying sizes and all different colours are splayed across the bed-like seat. A large thick purple blanket is covering the two, you long to take it and wrap yourself up to stave off the cold.

“Well…” the man yawns. “You get chased over here?”

You find yourself nodding.

“Oh… heh.”

A childish smirk crawls across the man’s face, a tail rises from underneath the blanket and flicks behind him. Your blood runs cold as he tilts his head.

“I should ask the other demons to just deal with this stuff without me, looks like one of them spooked you good.”

You take a step back as the man chuckles softly, the projection of the stars dances across his face, allowing his violet eyes to almost shine.

“I’m getting tired again, one of you get them out of here.” The man crisply snaps his fingers and the doors swing open, two giggling creatures dash into the room, they latch their claws around your arms, claws sinking into your flesh.

“Thank you, Lord Belphegor!”

“Right! Thanks Lord Belphegor!”

The man quickly puts a finger to his lips and inclines his head to the sleeping figure. “Shhhhh.”

“Sorry Lord Belphegor…”

“Yeah, our bad.” The two whispered, before beginning to softly giggle.

“Come on buddy,” one of them whispered.

“We have all of forever to have such fun!”

“That you do,” the man yawns again, the smirk having left his face as he lies back down, his eyes closing. “All of forever…”

Similar to Beel’s, Belphie’s castle is incredibly old and dirty, but Belphie’s house is straight up dilapidated.

It’s honestly hard to see what style it might have once been, because it’s just so broken.

It’s also absolutely frigid in that freaking castle, like, you need a jacket and a space heater just to avoid frostbite.

The only thing that isn’t completely unusable is Belphie’s throne, it’s basically a giant bed. Listen, you want to sleep in that throne, it’s heavenly. The mattress is as soft at a cloud, there are pillows filled with every possible material, so there's no chance of someone being uncomfortable. Not to mention the blanket is enchanted so you’re always at the perfect temperature.

Though, you can’t sleep well in that bed unless Belphie has actively invited you. If you just hop in all willy nilly, you’ll be plagued with sleep paralysis and awful waking nightmares.

Dozens of sloth demons have taken up residence in the old disused castle, but since they’re well, sloth demons, they haven’t really cleaned up, they’re basically freeloading. Belphie doesn’t really mind, he doesn’t visit his castle unless he has too, and the demons are basically doing his job for him so…

———————————————

Author’s Note

This was such a fun request to do! Thank you so much nonny! And a special thanks to @/tisafinedayforsimping and @/cherryjkj for helping out! :D

I might do a little follow-up with my OCs, just for fun!

455 notes · View notes

howlingday · 3 years

Text

Yang: You already had sex with someone else?! Are you kidding me?!

Jaune: I'm sorry, Yang! I tried to resist, but I couldn't stop her! It all happened so fast, I- (On his knees, Sobbing) Can you forgive me?!

Yang: (Groans) Fine, just... Can you tell me who it was?

Jaune: I'm sorry, Yang, but... I'm just too ashamed to say.

Yang: Jaune, you're sweet, but girls like to prey on that! (Sighs) Fine, I'll let it go for now.

Jaune: Really?! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!

Yang: (Thinking) But it was supposed to be me! And if you won't tell me, then I'll just have to find out myself.

---------------------------------------------------

Yang: You and Jaune dated before, right?

Arslan: Hm? Yeah, we did.

Yang: Did you two-?

Arslan: Bang? No, sorry to disappoint. And honestly, I'm sorry to be disappointed. I tried to get him to go on one more date with me, but... Well, Beacon happened. Talk about a mood killer.

Yang: (Deadpan) Yeah, nothing like genocide and a Grimm invasion to kill a mood, right?

Arslan: Now that you mention it, I saw him with another girl a while back. She looked kind of familiar, but then again, who with white hair isn't? Could've been another student, if I really think about it.

Yang: (Thinking) White hair? Oh, don't tell me...

---------------------------------------------------

Weiss: ...No. I didn't sleep with Arc.

Yang: Phew! For a second there, I thought-

Ruby: Didn't you "repay" him, though?

Yang: YOU WHAT?!

Weiss: YOU DOLT! THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE PRIVATE! (Ahem!) Anyways, yes, I did... try to repay him, but it was long before you two started dating. I took his offer to go to the movies, but the second I tried touching him, he bolted. He was too shy.

Ruby: Do you think there's another girl with white hair we know?

Yang: White hair is kind of rare. Only people with it are either old, or a Schnee...

---------------------------------------------------

Winter: No, I didn't sleep with Mr. Arc.

Yang: Then why is his hoodie here?!

Winter: Hm? Oh, this? Did you think he was the only fan of Pumpkin Pete's?

Yang: Oh, bull!

Winter: ...Very well. He was here, and I asked him for a small favor, but he had already left.

Yang: Ugh, another dead end!

Winter: Are you really that curious as to who took his virginity? I suppose I could help, but it will take time.

---------------------------------------------------

Yang: (Thinking) Six hours... It took six hours to find the answer, and it was here of all places?! But the facts don't lie; Jaune met this girl here. And there's only one woman in this town with white hair. He said he was too ashamed to admit who it was, but if this is who I think it is, then I could understand why. (Kicks open the door) It was you, wasn't it?!

---------------------------------------------------

Yang: Why are you laughing?!

Maria: I'm sorry, dear, but it's just too precious!

Yang: Precious?! My boyfriend is everyone's favorite plaything, and I have to be the one to save him from the girls! I thought his first time would be with me, but instead, you're the one who-

Maria: Dear, please, I'm far too old for this. And do you think virginity is really so important?

Yang: Well, I, uh...

Maria: Dear, everyone wants their first time to special, but it usually isn't. That doesn't mean everything after won't be either, though. Jaune probably confessed because he doesn't want to lie, and I think that should mean much more than some frivolous thing as experience, don't you agree? He loves you, and only you, Yang. Isn't that what's most important?

Yang: (Smiles) Yeah... You're right. Thanks, Maria. I appreciate you helping me.

Maria: My pleasure, dear. Now go out there, and rock that stud's world!

Yang: Yeah! (Opens the door) Time to get some-

Whitely: Woah!

Yang: Ow! (Both stumble backwards) Sorry, I-

Whitely: No, no, please, I-

Willow: Enough stammering, Whitely. It's uncouth.

Whitely: Yes, mother.

Willow: (Enters) And to what do we owe the pleasure?

Maria: Oh, just girl talk about Yang's little boyfriend.

Willow: Oh, I wouldn't say he's little~.

Yang: (Steps out) Yeah, sorry, I gotta- Wait. (Looks back) What did you say?

Willow: Oh, and make sure you nibble on his collar. He loves that~.

Yang: Wait, how would you-?!

Willow: Ta~! (Shuts the door)

#rwby #funnysexydragonball #jaune arc #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #ruby rose #winter schnee #maria calavera #whitely schnee #willow schnee #dragonslayer #frosted knight #arslan altan

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melo-yello · 3 years

Text

✨Self-Care Day✨w/ 💥🪨KiriBaku HeadCanons💥🪨

Off Day

💥🪨 You’re hanging upside down on the couch in your shared apartment with a boyfriend on either side of you. Kiri’s hand in yours while Baku’s had one hand on your thigh and the other scrolling on his phone as some cartoon drones on the tv

💥🪨 This is not how you envisioned your first free weekend into the last two weeks going

💥🪨 You sigh loudly before poking out your bottom lip “Suki? Eiji? I’m bored.” you pout dramatically as you throw a hand onto your forehead before you continue “Can we do a self-care day?”

💥🪨 Baku just grunts in affirmation as he stretches before standing. Kiri just smiles “Of course, Pebble. Whatever you want.”

💥🪨 You pop up pecking both guys on the cheek as you bounce off to the kitchen with Kiri’s hand still in yours “Thanks you two are the best!I’ll make tea!!!”

💥🪨 “And don’t you forget it!” Bakugou smiles popping your soft ass as he follows behind most likely to micromanage

💥🪨 You three chat about your week not having much time outside of courses to really talk. Between studying, training, and hero work you guys just didn’t have a lot going of free time.

💥🪨Per usual you and Kiri really carry the conversation Baku only chiming in ever so often to offer up things that he hates

💥🪨 You pop up remembering one of for favorite parts of a good ole fashioned treat yo self day. The cute headbands for you and Kiri to push your hair out of your faces. You return with a pink bunny one, a brown Teddy Bear one, and a plain black headband. Baku takes the black and Kiri takes the bunny.

💥🪨 “How do I look, Peb?” Kiri smirks flexing to show his broad ass built ass frame after putting on his bunny headband. “Ridiculous.” “-ly Hawt!” You laugh correcting Baku

💥🪨 You film in absolute awe as your Manly bf’s pierce Suki’s ear with ease after the off handed joke you made sipping tea. Cue Baku voguing it up with pride and a freshly pierced ear. Bakugou is slightly leaner and a couple inches shorter but just as toned

💥🪨 “Suki, Eiji, you are too manly!” You hype your man up as you post the video to your IG story

💥🪨 It’s your turn now!! Kiri easily pierces your ears with a red stud in your right and an orange in your left. Adding a second set of holes right above your first ones

💥🪨 Next comes high quality and novelty animal face masks Bakugou buys online to compliment his vigorous skin care routine. It rivals half of the YouTube Beauty community’s

💥🪨 Niether of you have any idea of where he buys them or where he hides them for that matter. He stores them away so you guys can’t steal them when he’s not around. Bakugou allows you and Kiri to use his masks on special occasions tho

💥🪨 “Mr. and Mrs. Dumbass.” He smirks handing you a frog and Kiri a tiger. Earning him a playful jab from you and “A Thanks, Babe.” from the red head

💥🪨 You suggest nail 💅🏾 polish next and Kiri is automatically on board. “Oooooo can you make them Red, Babygirl? Because they’d be so manly!” Kiri beams bouncing up and down. Baku will only allow his middle fingers painted. “I want white with bombs or just F U. Whichever is easier for you, Teddy Bear.” Bakugou nods scrunching up his nose from behind his own red panda face mask.

💥🪨 Kirishima’s nails are a simple sparkly red that say 🤍BITE MANLY in white while Bakugou’s middle fingers are white with black bombs with an orange F U on each one respectively

💥🪨 After you peel off your masks, you and Kirishima squeal in nearly perfect sync “Oooooooooooo! Sooooo Soft! Aren’t we hawt, Bakubro! Seeeeeeeeeee!” Both of you placing his hand on your faces

💥🪨Bakugou will just roll his red eyes into the back of his head as you two wrap him in a tight embrace “I’ve told you idiots a thousand times the importance of regular skin care with quality products.” He shrugs nonchalantly even thought he loves when you two are touchie with him. He hates to admit it

💥🪨 As you begin to search you nail kit for your preferred color, Kiri grabs your hand and presses it to his cheek “Can we do yours, Pebble?” He pouts. Bakugou follows suit grabbing your other hand “Pretty please, Teddy?” He whines firmly pressing your hand to his heart.

💥🪨 You buckle so fast it’s not even funny. “Bbbbbbbut...😤😖😞fine.” You concede

💥🪨These two really know how to put on the charm. Especially if Bakugou Kasuki is calling you Teddy instead of Dumbass.

💥🪨 “Great! Y/n, pick out a show to watch before we start.” Baku barks handing you the remote. “Why?” You question snatching it and putting on Criminal Minds. Simply thrilled you were getting to pick (Typically there were mini competitions for such a privilege)

💥🪨 “You’re judging, Bighead. You can’t look til we’re done.” Kiri hums thoughtfully trying to pick a good color combination. Baku already had his colors hidden in his lap before scouting so his hip was against yours sure to obscure your view of your own hand from you.

💥🪨 “Yea, no bias. When I win it’ll because I’m the best! Isn’t that right, Shitty Hair!” The ash blonde smiles cockily at the red head across from him. “In your fucking dreams, Spark plug!” Kiri spits backs just taking all the colors and copying Bakugou’s positioning

💥🪨 “If either of you fuckers, get those polishes on my favorite jeans there’ll be hell to pay.” You warn with a sinister tone to rival even Katsuki’s and the widest smile. The boys shiver at the seriousness behind your smile. Your threat is far from empty

💥🪨 You pretty much figured your nails would probably look terrible with each of your vividly different boyfriends competing with each other. “What do you, dorks, even get for winning?” You muse leaning into Kiri’s broad ass shoulder

💥🪨 “The next date plans and solo cuddles with Teddy Bear for the rest of the night seems fair to me. Huh, Eijirou?” Baku looks up from his work with a self assured grin blowing one of your nails. Vermilion irises float from you to Kiri.

💥🪨 Knowing damn well niether of them could keep you their hands off you. “Deal.” Kiri nods without giving Baku the satisfaction of meeting his gaze.

💥🪨 “Oh and I get shitly painted nails.” You sigh rolling your eyes. You’d be lying if you didn’t find it kinda hawt when they got like this

💥🪨 “There.” Halfway through the 2nd episode Kiri says and finally caps his last polish. Blowing gently across the surface of your nails.

💥🪨 By this time Baku has placed your arm on his lower back and his head in your lap. A firm grip on your wrist so you couldn’t checkout his work until Kiri finished. Your fingers make light circles there despite being held hostage. “Bout time, slow poke.” Baku huffs releasing your arm as you brought both hands side by side.

💥🪨 They had somehow managed to pick colors that didn’t totally clash. Kiri’s hand were mix match rose gold and pink with the teeniest (not to mention even) little white hearts in the middle of each nail.

💥🪨 Baku’s hand was very simple and clean. Black French tips with one red to orange nail with a black X on top as an accent.

💥🪨 You weren’t expecting anything this good. You could barely speak. You hadn’t been this lost for words since they had asked you out. You sniffle a lil bit. Your eyes glass up a little too.

💥🪨 God your partners are so great sometimes. The fact that they genuinely gave a fuck still manages to catch you off guard at times. After so many terrible relationships, effort, in and of itself, is kinda baffling

💥🪨 “Damn Pebs, it’s not that bad if you squint.” Kiri laughs nervously squeezing your shoulders. “Woah there, Teddy Bear, I’ll get the remover.” Baku stands ruffling your curls before you grab his wrist stopping him in his tracks.

💥🪨 “Suki. Eiji. Don’t be mad but I can’t pick! You guys both did really good! Fuck! I couldn’t ask for better lovers. You assholes are so much better than I deserve!” You gush before hiding your face in your hands. A little ashamed you let your boyfriends doing something as simple as your nails make you emotional.

💥🪨 “But Baby you deserve the world.” Kirishima immediately scoops you into a bear hug as he stands spinning you with ease and peppering you in kisses. Kiri places you back down even more gently than picked you up

💥🪨 “Princess, you’re a bad bitch! Don’t you dare forget it!” The shorter ash blonde says unwaveringly lifting your chin so you’d meet his eyes. He softly bops your forehead before kissing it and both cheeks. He pulls you close right as he yanks you up to straddle his waist

💥🪨 “Eijirou, I think our Babygirl needs a reminder of who she is and who she’s with.” His already deep ruby eyes darken lustfully. With no hesitation Kiri is right behind you in seconds

💥🪨 “I know just thing to jog our Pebble’s memory, Katsuki.” He whispers licking the side of your neck just as moves to capture Katsuki’s lips with his own

💥🪨 “Promise?” You moan softly lacing fingers into Kiri’s loose kitchens and trailing a cool hand across Baku’s abdomen stopping only at his joggers waist band

💥🪨 With that the three head to the bed room for some much needed group physical therapy

789 notes · View notes

voltagesmutter · 4 years

Text

Lucifer x MC - Reunited

Pairing: Lucifer x MC (F).

Fandom: Obey Me.

Prompt: Face-sitting || Creampie || Anonymous sex

Warning: Face riding (Female receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, reunion, fluff, cock-warming, cream pie/ internal cumshot.

Notes: My final piece for kinktober from the marvellous @alloveroliver list.

Thank you as per to my beta’s @theinariakuma - I wouldn’t have made it at all without your help, your an amazing friend and thank you for everything.

Also thank you to @sparrowwritesforop and @rikumorimachisgirl for betaing as well!

Golden strobes of light reflected off the crystal chandelier. Reflections glinting down onto the crowded floor below, cascading the audience in a hazy glow.

All eyes had fallen onto the stranger who had entered, leather oxfords echoing off the tiled floor capturing the attention of everyone. Black hair with grey wisps at the end was slicked back, held perfectly without a single hair out of place. A black tuxedo with a white crisp shirt, a bow tie nestled just beneath the collar, power and pride radiating from his being. Capturing the gaze of everyone.

That was until *she* followed under ten minutes later. Elegance and regalness beaming from every pore. Hair swept into a loose up-do, golden pins with diamonds kept it in place. A plunging neckline of red satin traced the curves of her body, settling and accentuating her petit waist whilst bringing out the ampleness of her bosoms. The material sitting just below her knees, a slit running to shortly stop just beneath her hip bone on the right side. A gemmed necklace hung perfect between the valley of her breasts. An uncut ruby, sparkling in the beams of the light. Garnet red, the same colour as the eyes who met her wondering stare-

“-Lucifer…”

Dropping all of her graceful presence, she ran. Practically gliding on the air into his arms, the pathway clear for her to make a straight bee-line towards him. Without missing a beat he caught her, strong arms pulling her into an embrace as he swept her off the floor in a twirl.

He’d anticipated her excitement the moment he saw her, senses heightened upon her arrival. A blur movement of them spinning to the rest of the world, the couple purely focused on each other with little regard to what was happening around them. His hands secured tightly on her waist before one of them moved to cup the back of her neck whilst he placed her back on the floor. A smug grin on his face as his fingertips came into contact with a studded diamond at the base of her neck, his pact, his mark of claim upon her skin.

“What are you- Are you really-?” The young female questioned in shock, throwing her arms around his neck as if frightened if she let go he would vanish. “Lucifer, you're really here”. A warmth flooding his chest as she nestled into him, his lover, his human, finally back together after four months apart. The couple falling hopelessly in love with each other during her time in Devildom, giving themselves to each other for countless nights, letting her and his bed be shared in their passionate throes. The mixture of the headboard, the rickety springs and the sounds of them both was enough for his younger brothers (and anyone else, Diavolo) to know Lucifer's claim to the human. That he belonged to her just as much as she did to him. But the end of the exchange had seen her sent away, tears falling from her face as Barbatos opened the portal.

‘I’ll fight for you to come home, I’ll find you, just wait for me and I promise I’ll bring you home where you belong with me’ Lucifer whispered between kisses, brushing away her tears. A man of honour, a man always of his word.

They’d been able to communicate thankfully to the D.D.D she had snuck into her purse, no-one thinking to check for it until it was too late. Able to text and call her beloved, to resume their love whilst apart over face-time. But it wasn’t the same as having his physical presence next to her, keeping her warm on cold nights or stroking her hair when in need of comfort. He had thought tirelessly against the rules and conduct to find a way to bring her home, until finally Diavolo turned to him. ‘You have always been the most loyal to me Lucifer, without you I fear the citizens may have revolted against me a long time ago. I feel it is in my power to re-pay you…’. Diavolo had sent him to the human realm to-

“I’m here to bring you home,” The purist of love spoke through his words, unable to hold back the smile that took over his lips to see the excitement growing on her face. The squeal that left her as she leaned up to kiss him, finally able to be back in the arms of the man she loved.

The event they attended was a charity ball, one Diavolo knew she would be attending as it was him who had sent the invitation, little knowledge to her about this. Diavolo had sent Lucifer here as means to collect her, she was still in shock to see him. To have him in her world being told she could finally come home after their time apart. It still felt surreal to her, like she was floating on cloud nine whilst she danced in the arms of her lover.

“Can we go home now?” Big doe eyes staring up into his ruby ones, the plea in her voice as her fingers messed with his collar. Hidden away in the corridor, Lucifer pressing her up against the wall, hands roaming at the top of her dress with greed. His lips attacked her neck in soft kisses until she spoke, repeating a question she’d ask many times already that night. Lucifer reminding her she was a guest and that his honour demanded they at least stay for a while and that they would have everyday from now on to be at home together. They danced and mingled, stealing fleeting kisses, longing glances and lingering touches throughout the evening until Lucifer could take it no more.

“Yes my dear, it is time for us to depart,” A low groan to his voice, the desire clear in his eyes as he tugged her by the hand to the exit. Exiting quickly and ushering her into the parked limo.

“Diavolo sent it,” He answered her question before she could ask, cozying up to him as the divider between them and driver opened. Lucifer gave him an address, her address to be exact. She looked at him with a quizzical look of horror, was he sending her home? “We must pack for your arrival, my dear. We shall embark to Devildom in the morning,” He reached over tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. A glance followed by a nod at the driver sent the divider back up, Lucifer instantly pulling her onto his lap, “I know the minute we get home my brothers will demand your attention… and I fear it’s been too long, so forgive me for being greedy my love, but I refuse to share you this evening,” His lips instantly on her, her hands fisting into his hair as she pulled him closer, body’s flushed against each other. The feeling of having him back and the free champagne that had been flowing making their needs more urged than normal.

His hands ran up her thighs, bunching up the material of her dress as he did so. A low hum of approval to feel the, very little, underwear she was wearing.

“Lucifer-“ A soft moan broke the kiss apart, fingers pulling her panties down they effortlessly fell off, hanging off one of her ankles. The pads of gloves replaced the material, stroking effortlessly against the wet of her slit before pushing one finger inside her. Hands tugged at his raven hair, pulling it out of place as her hips moved against his hand, another finger added shortly after. Lips attached to her neck, her mouth dropping and eyes screwed shut. She knew they weren't alone and that the need to be quiet was there, but with the way he stroked the inside of her, her skin and blood felt on fire. Whilst her body grew hot, hips rolling against his hand, her hands impatiently tugged at the button on his trousers. A plea full look of lust was shared, Lucifer lifting his hips to let her continue as she dragged down the zipper with haste. Black boxers stained from his leaking head, pushed down just enough for his cock to spring free.

“Lucifer… please,” Shallowly stroking his length in her hand, heat pulsing from him, a low groan against her neck. Pulling his fingers from her, he wrapped them around her wrist to stop her, the wetness of her arousal from his gloves dripping down her wrist and around his cock. Time apart from cruel, Lucifer fearing if she handled him too much the first round would be over far too quickly. “I need you… hurry please!” Her voice slightly frantic, a mad woman driven by pleasure as she raised herself, aligning herself over his cock. Her arousal was enough to help him glide into her without much friction, stretching her in a pleasant burn each time she lowered and raised her hips until finally she took him fully.

His lips crushed against her, holding her still with one hand on her waist whilst the other gripped the back of her neck. He took her moans, each one boosting his ego more as pride swelled his chest. To be back with his human, back inside his human. She tried to raise herself but the red nails kept a grip on her, somewhere between impaling herself on his cock he had shoved his arousal slickened gloves in the pocket of his jacket.

“Not yet,” Followed by a nibble bite to her lower lip. He told her how he wanted to wait until they were at her house, so he could savour the moment and really make her scream.

“Please,” She whined once more, a desperate attempt to roll her hips but the iron grip on her refused her movements. The thin straps of her dress fell off her shoulders, letting her bare breasts spill free, his mouth already leaning down to catch a taunt nipple in his mouth. Her muscles clenched over him, the warmth of her pulling him into the deepest depths. Letting his mouth release the nub in his mouth with a wet pop.

The ride home was torturous, lips locked as teeth and tongue clashed against each other. The final time she tried to move caused a swift slap to her behind, a warning growl of Lucifer's throat and she knew better to push his buttons. “I’m sorry…” She whispered against his lips, tracing his bottom lip with her tongue, “I just need you so badly”.

"You waited four months my love, you can hold out another twenty minutes." Lucifer chuckled in her ear, caressing along her sides as he had her seated on his lap, his cock buried to the hilt inside her.

"I.. Didn't have your cock inside me for four months." She's bit back only to whine as his fingers pinched at her nipple to reprimand her light back talking.

The rest of the ride felt longer than it was, her tight cunt pulsing over him, gripping him to keep him from ever leaving her again. Every bump sent them closer to the edge of ecstasy, until finally the car came to a halt outside. Lucifer taking all his restraint to pull from her dripping core, patting her thigh as a sign to get up. Her dress adjusted to recover herself, underwear quickly rolled back up, messy lipstick wiped from around her mouth and hair smoothed. She bolted with weak knees to the front door. With shaky hands she hurried to put the key in the door, Lucifer pressing his body tightly up against her once bidding the limo goodbye.

The door has barely shut behind her when she found herself pressed up against it, claws running down the side of her dress letting the fabric fall off her body in two halves. Impatiently his tongue pressed against her parted lips, gripping her thighs and dragging his hands all over her body. Her underwear torn in two, the sound of fabric ripping getting lost between the lewd pops of his mouth moving down over her skin.

“Did you ever touch yourself?” He teased, breath hot as a trail of wet kisses pressed over her collarbone. A gasp leaving her speechless as he took a nipple once more in his mouth, teeth teasing the sensitive skin before twining his action on the other. His rain of kisses showered lower, a suckering puck over stomach just above her hip bone whilst fingers grazed over her sopping slit.

“You know I did…” Eyes rolled to the back of her skull, the soft thump of her head falling backwards against the solid wood of the door. Her referencing the many nightly videos of her fingers dancing across her thighs, disappearing under the pjs shorts before plunging into her core. The good morning showers of slippery sud hands covering her breasts with a teasing peak of skin underneath. The dirty phone calls leaving little to the imagination, the sound of buzzing flooding Lucifer's ear as she withered from the vibrating toy.

“It was the darker than the pits of hell,” The normally towering demon pressed down on his knees, guiding her leg over his shoulder from the soft grip of his hands over her thigh, “Lying in the bed you withered in without you there, the memories haunting me in mind and physical presence” His breath hot over her clit, core clenching at the first flicker of his scale over tongue over her flesh, “No matter how much I spilt on my hand… it was never enough”. Wet flesh of his tongue devoured her, ravishing her tight cunt like a starved man- a starved man driven with the need to please and pleasure. Lips suckled over her clit, strong hands curving and cupping her ass to keep her in place. Unable to control herself as she bucked against him, spreading wetness over his mouth and jawline. A scent and taste he’d craved every moment, that he would crave for the rest of his life. Hair disheveled, a layer of perspiration forming over her skin, one hand cupping and tugging her breast for added stimulation. Her moans groaned louder as he tongue delved deeper, deeper than her fingers or any toy could reach, his name rolling from her mouth like her hips rolled against his face. Knees buckling as she came, his strengthening grip on her keeping upright as her muscles pulsed over his tongue.

“Fuck-fuck,” Her breath lost in whimpers, palm gripping into a fist as she slammed it against the solid door behind her. He finally wrenched himself away from her when she shuddered from over-stimulation. Through heavy lidded eyes she peered down to meet his strong-lustful gaze, cherry red burning up at her. Everything they wanted to say was conveyed through their look.

“How do you want me?”. Her belly clenching in anticipation at his words.

They just made it into the living room before all of his clothes were removed, her delicate fingers tugging off his bow tie which he had undone during the ride home followed by his shirt sending buttons flying across it. Her hair loose, hair pins lost in a trail of his clothes as they groped at each other with need. His trousers pushed down along with boxers, her hand wrapped back around his cock spreading the heavy bead of pre-cum over his thick girth.

“How do you want me?” Taking her lip between his teeth as his hands ran up the curves of her sides. Without words she pulled back, sinking to her knees before resting on her elbows keeping her ass high. A glance over her shoulder was all she needed to convey what she wanted. Watching as he stood in awe as he stroked himself to the sight of her, staring at her spread thighs showing her glistening cunt in full view. And it was all his for the taking.

Her fingers twitched, grasping desperately at the carpet beneath her as he pushed into her until he bottomed out and was fully buried inside her. A string of curses fell from both of them as he started at a gentle pace, taking all his self-control to not pound her until she was begging for him to stop- it had been such a long time since their last physical intimacy he wanted to take his time. He was also a lot closer than he wanted to admit.

The soft clap of wet skin filled the silent house. The sheer size of his palms were enough to wrap fully around her waist, pulling her back into each thrust.

“Oh fuck, Lucifer…” Jaw-slacked from the repeated hit of him inside her, sending sparks across her spine and vision. Electricity dancing over her skin as she came apart beneath him. Her orgasm hitting hard with little warning, a flood of warmth releasing from between her thighs as her hips pulsed backed backwards whilst Lucifer kept his steady rhythm to ride her through it.

“That’s it’s princess,” He cooed softly into her ear leaning over her back to press the toned muscles of his chest against her. Pressing tender kisses as she continued to mewl under him, her cunt trying to milk him as her muscles continued to contract tightly over him.

He continued to ease in his steady pace, enough to satisfy him but not push him over the edge. Wanting to last longer, to delve into her pleasure before his own. That was until it came out in a broken moan, ‘harder… please Lucifer… harder’. He grip tightened as he pulled her back a little harsher, but it wasn’t enough for her. The glance she gave him over her shoulder was enough to break his self-composter.

Black onyx wings spread out in full glory, ivory black horn sprouted in twisted curls, his pact shining like rising flares of fire between his eyes as he began to drive into her with wild abandonment. His eyes unable to be taken away from his cock disappearing and stretching her, the ripple of her ass as his groin slapped against her over and over until the skin began to redden from the impact. Bruises formed from his grip on her, leaving marks upon her skin for weeks to come of their passion. The curve of her back was mesmerising to him, her cunt swallowing him whole whilst attempting to grip him tighter each time he pulled back.

“Fuck! Yes, there!” Her voice in a telltale whine, one that signaled her climax was close again. Sweat dripped as his movement pounded her into the floor, her arousal and previous releases creating a pooling mess over her thighs, his cock and his balls before puddling onto the floor.

His climax followed quickly with hers, spilling and shooting hot release inside her in thick ropes whilst she shaked in his hold before collapsing to the floor. A string of drool dribbled from her lips, eyes threatening to shut as she took a few moments to come down from her high. Failing to realise, Lucifer was still buried deep inside her, still fully erect as he curved over her back pressing fleeting kisses up her salted skin.

“I missed you,”... “I love you,” He whispered softly on repeat, praising her for how well she did. Until finally he pulled himself out of her, a predatory growl leaving him to see the mixture of their release leaking from her abused hole. It lit a primal need inside him, to leave her ruined and filled with his seed. A raw primal need that suited him.

“I love… fuck.. you too,” She panted heavily, letting him gather her in his arms as she rest on his chest.

“Do you wish to go to bed?” He smiled, he knew her human body was fragile, that he could easily over stimulate her with a few touches. But rest was important, that he needed to be careful with her.

“No…” Her hand cupping his jaw, a contrast of sharpness in the softness of palm. Adjusting herself, she straddled him and took his erection in her hand as she lowered herself onto him. She had an insatiable appetite that only he could fill.

And she was currently starving.

By the time the sun rose, the couple was passed out from their blissful night. The house a mess as they took each other over every surface and furniture they could find, by the time they made it to the bedroom their bodies were slick with sweat and her thighs coated in thick rivers of essence.

Lucifer had spent part of the night between her thighs when she finally fell asleep, eyes zoned and focused on her bare thighs, speechless and growling low to see her physically weeping with his release.

But finally when they both awoke, naked with a thin blanket draped over their spooning form. The only thing on their minds was to finally go back home and enjoy the rest of their lives together.

Kinktober masterlist here.

#alloverkinktober #kinktober #obey me #obey me smut #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #shall we date lucifer #obey me lucifer smut #shall we date obey me #shall we date smut

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erenoir · 3 years

Text

tell me about it

part 1 | part 2

you and armin drive down to the race track drunk on each other’s taste, falling harder for one other by the minute. you knew you couldn’t be together, but you two are quick to learn that you’d both do crazy things for love.

♡︎ genre: 50s!au, greaser!armin, slow burn, angst, nsfw, mdni

♡︎ warnings: 18+ dark content ahead, unprotected sex, cockwarming, fingering, car sex, protective!armin + virgin!reader, depictions of phsyical fighting (hand-to-hand combat) + graphic wounds, heavy mentions of blood, stabbing/stab wounds, light mentions of intoxication, ideations of death

♡︎ featuring: s4!armin arlert x f!reader

♡︎ word count: 11k

♡︎ series summary: you worked at rosie’s diner, where the local greaser gang stopped by almost daily. they've become part of your routine, they're your usuals... that was until the day when none of them came in, turns out the gang had crumbled under the hands of one new blonde stud that just moved into town.

a/n: ...this is the second + final part to my 50s!armin mini-series. i cried a lot writing this + i'm v proud of it. it’s long but, it’s something that i really hope has you drooling until the very end... i hope you enjoy la fine <3.

“you just turned my world upside down blondie,” you say through your laughter.

“yeah? tell me about it darling. where to next miss?” he looks over at you with stars in his bloodshot eyes.

“let’s go to that stupid racetrack.”

armin’s veiny hands hugged the thin steering wheel of his caddy tight, knuckles turning white with every bump he hit on the road. you watched his hands intently, he had a gold ring with a ruby in the center on his middle finger of his left hand. on the other he wore two silver bands, one on his pinky and one on his index. you two drove in silence down main street, watching people trickle into the matinee showing of rebel without a cause. the sun was setting leaving an orange haze in the sky, painting armin’s cheekbones a soft golden color. you two had been driving mindlessly for a while, the adrenaline running through your veins gradually subsiding. you brought your attention back down to your lap as your hands toyed with the ends of your skirt, fingers unconsciously picking at the baby pink polish on your nails. you'd gotten terribly nervous all of a sudden.

“alright then, spit it out darling,” armin asks you as you slow down at a stop light. he reaches down to his jacket pocket, fumbling for his pack of marlboros. he places a cigarette between his teeth and unfolds your hand to put his lighter in it, hitting the gas as the light turns green. his eyes never leave the road when he leans over to you and nods his chin in your direction, rocking the cigarette up and down between his teeth.

“light me up will you?” armin slurs through a closed mouth. your hands come up to his mouth as you strike the lighter three times.

one.

two.

three.

you counted as the little flame was freed from its tiny box. you used one hand to hold the flame to the end of the cigarette as the other cupped around armin’s mouth. his cracked lips closed around the yellow tip, his necklace moving up with his chest as he took a deep inhale. your face burned a deep red, those lips were tangled with yours not too long ago. you turned to watch the town pass by, sure to not let armin see you blush at the thought of his lips touching your skin once more. you two fell back into your silence.

“so, what? cat got your tongue sweetheart?” armin smirked as smoke clouded his face.

“n-no. armin, it’s just…” his ocean blue eyes beckoned you to tell him more, you were so mesmerized by him.

you weren’t really sure what you wanted of him, your anxious thoughts were running miles in the comfort of your head, with no intentions of leaving soon.

“armin… what if we see jean at the race track?” you asked with those big doe eyes gazing up at him, he was so mesmerized by you.

bingo, armin thought. he knew that’s what you were worried about, he truly didn’t even have to ask you. he let out a snark laugh as he placed a hand behind the headrest of your seat, the cigarette hanging between the knuckles of his ring and middle fingers on the hand holding the wheel. your eyes were fixated on the cigarette, nerves apparent in your face. armin’s gaze softened at the sight of your bottom lip quivering ever so slightly. he didn't want to see those pretty pink lips of yours sad, not for the sake of any old bastard, with the exception of himself of course.

armin’s hand slides off the headset until his hand reaches your cheek, your eyes flutter shut at the sensation of his cold rings hitting your warm, blush-covered skin.

“armin…” your lips whispered into the callused palm of his hand. you looked up at him bashfully, you were so embarrassed of the effect he had on you. the smallest things drove you absolutely mad for him. the sky, now a fiery magenta, didn’t help the sensual tension between you two. you couldn’t possibly love each other in the way you wanted, you both knew that. my goodness, if the titans ever found out…

your breath hitches in your throat, your heart dropping as armin watched your eyes grow sad, tears beginning to well at the corners of your eyes. armin drags his thumb across your cheek, prepared to catch your tears as they fall. your hand reaches up to grab his, as you push it further into your cheek, leaning into his touch.

“armin, jean and the boys would flip this whole town upside down if they ever found out that we…”

“that we what?”

the blush on your cheeks deepened as armin forced you to realize your most intimate moment from an hour ago. you watch him smirk, cigarette back in his mouth, other hand steering the wheel gracefully.

“that- that we… kissed armin…”

armin adored the way his name sounded coming out of your mouth. it was so delicate, like you cherished every syllable, but yet you said it as if you longed for him, with passion, dripping with lust. you try to act so innocent for me darling, my pure little thing you, armin thought, his grip on the wheel tightened. he took one of your curls in his hand and wrapped it around his finger.

“armin, we can’t… we really shouldn’t…”

“shouldn’t what doll? say it.”

“we shouldn’t be together, you’ll get hurt, jean oughta get mad...”

armin’s jaw went rigid as he ground his teeth together. he squeezed the ringlet of your hair tight around his finger before letting it go and putting his hand back on the wheel. you felt the car speed up as armin slowly punched the gas with his foot. you look at him desperately, eyes pleading him to tell you what’s happening.

“a-armin, please slow down! we-"

“how many times do i have to tell you darling, the next time i see jean i won’t go easy on him.”

your hands fell to the handle of the door, holding on as armin went faster and faster, going far beyond the town speed limit.

“armin!-"

“you don’t have to worry about me. how many times are you gonna mention good old jeany boy... in fact, i hope we see jean at the race track… i have a little gift for him, remember?” armin seethes through gritted teeth as he pulls the gold bracelet jean gave you out of his pocket and places it in your hand, before bringing your knuckles to his lips and kissing them sloppily.

“you hold on to that for me okay baby? keep it safe while i get us to the race track, we’ve gotta speed up or we might miss your little jeany boy yeah?”

you sensed an overwhelming amount of jealousy in armin’s voice, a new side to him exposing itself. you wrapped your fingers around the bracelet and stayed silent as he whipped you two to down the street.

“a-armin! where are you going? this isn’t the way… we’re headed straight for the-"

armin shuts you out as his fingers shake to turn up the volume of his stereo, music drowning out the sound of your pleas. your breath is shaky, the upbeat music feeling unsettling in this moment of chaos. the lyrics flooded your brain, pushing every other thought up to the surface.

Why does the rain fall from above?

Why do fools fall in love?

Why do they fall in love?

“armin, wait! you’re just gonna cause more trouble for us! why don’t you thi-"

Love is a losing game

Love can a be shame

the song grows louder, lyrics panging at your eardrums. your head whipped back and forth, shoulder banging into the window as armin turned a corner you knew all too well, your eyes opened wide when you realized where he was really taking you. your body jerked forward as he stopped abruptly at the end of the street, your hands instinctively finding an anchor on the dashboard of his car. your heart was about to break out of the confines of your chest.

“armin… why are you doing this? you’re gonna get yourself killed! can’t you see it?! god, think with your head… please!” passerby turned their heads to peak in the baby blue cadillac as you screamed at the top of your lungs, voice wrestling with the volume of the music. it was armin’s turn to look at you with tear-stained eyes.

“i’m tired of letting good things leave my life y/n! i’m not scared… o-of anything! i’m not running anymore.” his voice cracked through his screams, “and i’m sure as hell not scared of good ‘ol jeany boy sweetheart!” you looked on in pure disbelief and confusion as to what was happening, the cadillac felt like it was sinking into deep water and it was too late to open the windows.

“armin.. what the hell… are you going on about?!” you were panting with frustration and tired from screaming. god, you hate men.

armin grabbed his plastic comb from the chest pocket of his leather jacket, as his shaky hands ran the teeth of it through his hair. his foot began to ease its way down the gas slowly as you felt the car jolt forward again, your eyes widened in fear as you looked at the blonde boy.

“armin… armin, no. stop the car right now! don’t even think-"

armin’s hand cranked at the stereo, raising the volume to the max so the whole block could hear it.

I know of a fool

You see

For that fool is me

armin revs the engine once, twice, three times. the metal inside the hood of the car rattling like it’s a bear that’s just woken up from hibernation. passerby are now stopped in their tracks and watching the situation unfold inside the car that was stopping traffic, sipping their drinks slowly as if they’ve got front row seats to a double feature. armin looks at you with wild eyes and smiles widely at you. has he gone crazy?

“let’s pay precious jeany boy a visit what do you say?!” he yells, his voice raspy and choppy as you watch his hand push the stick shift forward. he was gripping it so tight you would think he could crush it from the pressure of his hand alone.

faster.

your body propels backwards into your seat as he races you two to the end of the street where the titans’ car shop resides.

straight into the hands of the enemy.

“armin have you gone mad?!”

you watched as you see the familiar territory grow closer, jean's cherry red corvette is parked out front. you've never wanted to see starla less in your life.

within a flash you two had stopped right in front of the garage door, wide open so jean and the boys could get a good look at you two. armin revved his engine once more to get their attention. your heart stuttered in your chest as your eyes met jean's. he was wearing a tight white cotton shirt, covered in grease and sweat, and had a dirty rag over his shoulder. you looked at him in bewilderment, you couldn't think of a single possible thing to say to him in this moment. your mouth hung open, voice haltering in fear of the unknown. what the hell was going through his mind right now?

"jean please, just-"

"y/n, get out of that damn car right now. the hell are you doing with this scum?!"

you gasped at his cockiness, "jean! how dare you talk to me like-"

armin snickered from the driver's seat and looked jean dead in the eyes.

"can't even sweet talk your own girl huh jeany boy? how've you been?! it's been what... 6... 7 hours since we first met... an anniversary!" armin drawled through gritted teeth. his eyes narrowed at jean, asserting his dominance on his territory. jean jumped at the car and smacked his hands at the bottom of your window, fingers balled into fists. jean chocked up a wad of saliva and spit it on the ground before letting out a sarcastic laugh.

"are you trying to tango barbie?" jean narrowed his eyes back at armin with a smirk on his face. armin scoffed as he lit up another cigarette, taking his time before giving jean the satisfaction of a response.

"...and what if i am, daddy-o?"

both jean and your faces dropped at armin's choice of words. your mouth hung wide at the fact that he just called jean kirschtein, head of the titans, daddy-o, on his own goddamn turf.

"a-armin-" you stumbled as you tried to stop him.

"...i think it's time we settle this fair and square yeah jeany?" armin takes a drag of his marlboro, "last i checked it takes two to tango but you had all of three of your goons on me! what? afraid you might eat dirt if we just dance ourselves?"

you remembered how armin's voice was breaking just minutes ago, screaming to you in frustration, nearly crying at the wheel. well not an ounce of his voice was faltering now. you had confidence he could win this, you looked down at your skirt and smirked evilly, silently supporting your blonde knight.

"oh you've done it now barbie... be at the race track in an hour... that's your favorite spot isn't it? w-what do you go there so you can cry alone?"

was jean kirschtein... stumbling on his words?

"and what if i do? heard a bird loves it when a man can cry, maybe that's why i've got yours in my caddy right now!" armin growled. your eyes widened as your smirked turn into a burst of laughter, my my, armin was quite the clever stud. jean looked at you in shock, you'd just stabbed him in his broken heart.

"in an hour smartass," jean seethed and slammed his hand on the window sill one last time, leaving a print of grease on armin's tan leather.

"scum better clean that up," he muttered.

you looked at armin in disbelief at what he'd just done.

"armin-"

"can it baby, i'm doing this for me. i get you're worried... thank you. haven't had many people worry about me in my life, especially not angels like you... but you gotta understand me when i say this..." you watched armin's pretty pinks move as he spoke to you, looking ahead at the road as you two shot out of the titans' car shop.

"...i'm doing this for me. i'm not letting him walk all over me, i'm not gonna let him stake his claim on you like... like you-like you're some piece of meat! i'm done letting good things go from my life."

"armin... what does that mean?" you whispered. he looks at you questioningly.

"that's the second time you've said that now... that-that you're done letting good things leave your life." you watched as his knuckles tensed around the steering wheel, he takes a long drag of his cigarette.

"i got the shit kicked out of me today doll," he laughs, "i-i got the shit kicked out me! ha!" he looks over at you with a bright smile but you can only look on in confusion as to what he was going on about. he puts his arm back behind the headrest of your seat, grazing his fingers along the back of your neck through the hole.

"...i got the shit kicked out me and-and normally i would've left. i would've said... forget this crap! and left, again, like i always do..."

his cool blue eyes warmed up a little as you watched him sort out his sentences in his mind.

"...my parents left, and i let them," his breath hitched in his throat, "i loved them man... shiieeet," he drawled, trying to laugh off the clear sadness in his voice.

"everything was so good... i wasn't a bad kid you know. i-i was a damn good kid, didn't drink, didn't smoke until they left."

your eyes were clouded with sympathy, no child deserves that.

"my father started drinkin'... i said-shit, you wanna know what I said? i said... daddy, are you tired? ha! what stupid kid i was."

you wanted to console him, tell him something, anything, to make him feel better. but something in you told you that armin just needed to talk, he needed to talk to someone. so he could finally stop running.

"one of the last things my father told me before he left was- he said... you gotta defend yourself son! you're a runt ya hear me? so you gotta work extra hard to make sure people don't step on ya..."

armin scoffed as he raised his hands up and smacked them back down on the steering wheel in disbelief.

"... guess what i did y/n..." he said your name weakly, "...i ran... once my dad left, my mom followed the minute i turned 18, she didn't have it in her to stay... so i ran, and i kept running, the hell else was i s'posed to do?... i haven't stayed in one place for more than a few months for the last three years..." his voice trailed off as you two came upon the familiar dirt road that led to the abandoned race track. you rolled your window down and stuck your arm out, leaning your head against your tricep as you looked at yourself in the sideview mirror.

"armin i'm-i'm very sorry you-"

"every town i've skipped to i've left, i can't make anything last i-i meet good people and i let them go!" he scoffs, "nothing... no one has ever made me want to stay anywhere." the caddy shakes up and down at the irregularities of the dirt road. armin's eyes are faced ahead, one of his hands gripped the wheel as the other fumbled with his necklace. was he nervous?

"but then i met you today and... dammit y/n i'm taken with you!" armin confesses as he comes to a stop at a secluded corner of the race track. he rests his forehead on the wheel and continues speaking in whispers.

"you are... something else. i didn't think i'd make it a week here after i got into that fight with the titans... but then god sent you out the back door of rosie's... all frustrated and annoyed at the world in your little apron..." his voice trailed off as the blush on your cheeks deepened.

"yeah? so you like me huh? tell me about it," you teased, you brought a hand to the back of armin's neck and gave it a loving squeeze. he lifted his head off of the steering wheel, finding the courage to look at you after giving his corny confession. he takes your hand from his neck and brings it to his lips, he kisses the palm of your hand and whispers,

"y/n, you make me wanna stay. i wanna stay for you, everyone else in this town can screw off... especially that old rat miss anna."

the biggest smile creeps it's way onto your cheeks and quickly grows into the hardest laughter you've experienced in your life.

"n-not even... good 'ol j-jeany bo-y h-huh?" you stammered, "silly m-miss anna? ha! i can't believe it blondie!"

armin begins to laugh with you, you two roll around in the seats of his caddy, hands holding onto your stomachs to subside your laughter.

"you're absolutely mad armin arlert!"

"you make me this way doll..."

you two grow silent, you fumble with the hem of your skirt as armin fiddles with the rings on his fingers.

"so that's it? you're gonna let a guy confess his feelings for you then leave him high and dry huh? oh, you're a bad one birdie," armin teases.

"surely you saw my face turn into a tomato armin..." you laugh, "... and i don't think any old bird that wasn't taken with you would let you drive her around like a mad man all day!" armin smirks at your choice of words as he leans in close to you so you could feel his smoky breath on your face.

"so you're taken with me then huh?" you watched as the last bit of sun sparkled around in his eyes, as the evening slowly turned into night, the sky being painted a deep blue. your breath hitched in your throat as your hands tangled themselves in your skirt, thighs squeezing them together tight.

"there you go blondie, makin' a girl all nervous again, would you stop that!?"

"stop what?" he smirks, you watch his earring dangle as he lets out a low, throaty chuckle.

"stop looking at me the way you do! it drives me crazy..." you said, almost out of breath, "...of course i'm taken with you armin. you were the prettiest thing to me the minute i saw you..."

"i guess we're both a little crazy then eh? does jean get crazy with you dove?" his hand comes to meet the soft skin of your cheek, he feels them ablaze under his touch.

"armin... if i'm gonna kiss you again i don't want to hear another word about jean!" your eyes widen in shock at what you just admitted to armin. you wanted to kiss him again. he shines his pearly whites at you with that calculating grin of his.

"screw that bastard, i wanna kiss you more than anything in the world."

armin takes your face in his and runs his thumb over your bottom lip softy, eyes fixated on your mouth. you looked at him with such longing, such need. you wanted a taste of this forbidden love, one that would wreck your relationship with the titans, blacklisting you from town, and throw you to the side as you fell hard for the traitor that flipped this shithole upside down in the first place.

"armin..." you whispered softly and kissed the tip of his thumb.

"what is it darling? use your words."

you removed your hands from their place on your skirt and ran them through his blonde locks ever so gently. he looked at you like you were the only thing left in the world that would keep him alive.

"armin i wanna do it again. please, kiss me."

without hesitation armin swept you into his arms and pulled you onto his lap. you were sat on his thighs while your legs swung over to the passenger seat, your back leaning against his window. you laced your right arm around his neck and used the other to caress his cheek. he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into him, resting his forehead against yours.

"armin..." you whispered breathlessly.

"i know dove, i know."

his tongue licked at your lips gently, wanting to savor every minute with you. your lips crashed into his as you pulled his mouth into yours. your lips fit together like puzzle pieces, made for no one else but each other. doo-wop played softly from the stereo as you two got drunk off of one another's taste, tongues moving in a perfect symphony. armin pulled away from you out breath and eager to please you.

"i wanna try something pretty, just rest your head on my shoulder," he whispered against your lips. you nodded feverishly as you tucked your head into his neck. armin's hand gathered the end of your skirt and pushed it up your legs slowly, bringing it from your calves up to your mid-thigh. you watched with hunger as you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth.

"you okay pretty?" armin asks you before he goes any further. you look into his eyes and whisper a mess of yes's and "please," as you brought him back in for a hard kiss. he pushes your head back into his shoulder before trailing his fingers up and down your bare legs, you've never exposed yourself this much to anyone before. you shudder as armin continues to tickle your virgin skin with his fingers. you're a little confused when armin brings his hand up to your face and taps your lips with his middle and ring fingers.

"hm?" you question quietly.

"open darling," you do as he says as armin gently presses his fingers onto your tongue.

"suck them for me pretty," he asks you in a slightly dominant tone. armin's eyes darken as he watches your soft lips wrap around his fingers, innocently licking and sucking at them. like the good little dolly you are for me huh, he thought. he slides them out gently before placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. armin brings his hand back down to your thighs, teasing your skirt up a little bit further. he was inching closer to your clothed heat, dripping with lust for him, before your breath stopped in your chest.

"oh armin, i... i've never done anything like this before. i- i'm so embarrassed i-" you stutter bashfully into armin's chest, you hid your face from him in his jacket, much too red to look at him. he shushes you sweetly.

"hey, 's okay, i'm gonna take good care of you alright?" he awaits your response. noticing you're not budging from the nook of his jacket he lifts your chin up so you can meet his eyes.

"i need you to use your words baby, 'm not gonna do anything you don't want," he whispers.

"gosh, i'm red as a tomato armin.." you look at up him nervously, he smiles down at you like you're the sweetest thing he's ever seen.

"armin i-i really want you to take care of me."

armin places one last wet kiss to your lips before coating his fingers in saliva once more, this time sticking his fingers in his mouth, as he begins to trail down to your core. your body naturally arches into him, you've never wanted something... or someone so badly.

your body shudders as armin begins to rub small circles over your clothed clit. you bring a hand to your mouth as you nuzzle into his neck and try to stifle the foreign noises you were making. armin stops moving his fingers as you let out a whine.

"hey, don't hide yourself from me, i wanna hear how happy i make you darling," armin coos as he takes your faces from out of his neck and places a sloppy kiss to your cheek, before leaning your head back against the window so he could have a good view of you.

"open baby," you do as he says.

"suck," you do as he says.

your body begins to respond to him perfectly, giving him exactly what he wants out of you. you swirl him around on your tongue once more before he moves his fingers back down to your panties.

"armin...do it..."

"getting impatient are we doll?" armin snickers before slipping himself under your panties, finally feeling what he's been aching to this whole time. your folds are wet and needy for armin's touch, he let's out a sharp breath when he feels how slick you've gotten for him. you reach a hand to into his hair and tug on it lazily, head too dazed by your dirty thoughts to do much more.

"you're so plump and ready to take my fingers doll," he whispers as he fixes his gaze hungrily on where his hand meets your soft pussy lips. "yes armin, yes, yes, yes, i'm so ready for you. please, take care of me..." you beg as you roll your head back against the window, squirming so eagerly over what little touch armin has given you. armin chuckles before inching one finger into your needy hole. your eyes roll back as your grip on armin's hair grows tighter.

"wow darling, shit, you're very tight," armin slowly circles his finger around, familiarizing himself with your walls before he inches in his ring finger to meet his other one inside of you. your head swings forward and your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation, "oh! armin, that feels really good!" you gawk at the pleasure, your thighs squeezing around his hand. armin admires your beautiful face, all cute and contorted into something so filthy from just his touch. he slowly begins to pump his fingers in and out of you, your hips instinctively jutting up into his hands. you're a moaning mess on top of him, with your legs spread all pretty onto his passenger seat. armin's cock goes hard at the sight of you, sprawled across his tan italian leather seats, skirt hitched up to your waist, cardigan coming slightly undone, leaving your print in his car forever. knowing he was the first man to ever do something like this to you drove his fingers to move faster inside of you.

"does that feel good dove?" armin asks feverishly, "do my fingers feel good?" you moan softly against the window, "ngh... y-yes armin." your hot breath fogged up the glass, while you drunkenly nodded your head at the pleasure. you feel that familiar pit in your stomach begin to form like earlier, this was the second time today you were coming undone on armin's lap. armin feels you clench around his fingers as he curves up into your g-spot, your eyes crossing at the new sensation. "oh! baby... i think i'm gonna...ngh, please!"

"go ahead dove, let go for me,' armin whispers into your ear as his fingers ravish your sore pussy. you grab ahold of the wrist that was working at you so intently and squeeze it tight, holding armin's fingers into you as you rub your clit against his palm, hips rising off of his thighs. armin turns your face to him and holds your chin while your reach your high, set on watching your face while you cum. your thighs begin to shake and close on hands.

"armin yes, yes, yes, please, please-fu-oh yes!" your legs shake violently as you came onto armin's hand, your sloppy juices trickling between his knuckles. armin begins to move slowly before pulling out, coaxing you gently down from your high. he wipes your bangs from your forehead, and blows on it to cool you down.

"how was that doll?"

"mm... it was really good," you whimper into his lips as his kisses you so delicately, gentle for you and you only. your knees gather at your chest as you return to straddling him, placing sloppy kisses all over his face. you ran your fingers down his chest before pressing your hands down on his lower abdomen, pushing a low moan out of armin's lips.

"i wanna do you now armin," you mumble bashfully, sticking your head into his neck. he smirks and squeezes your sides lightly.

"what was that darling?" armin teases you, tracing his fingernails up and down your back as you cover your cheeks with your hands.

"i said... i wanna do you now, 's my turn for me to take care of you. i just... i don't know how," you feel heat rising back to your cheeks.

"well, what would you like to do baby?" armin whispers, now running his fingertips up and down your arms. you don't know how to say it. you're so embarrassed and you don't know to say that you'd like to do it with armin.

"g-god armin, i- i think i want you... like that."

"like what?"

this calculating bastard.

"mm armin..." you whine.

"nu-uh tell me what you want pretty..." he looks you in the eyes softly and runs his hands back through your hair, "don't wanna do anything you don't want."

with your arms laced around his neck and your foreheads pressed together, you take a deep breath, "i want you to make love to me armin arlert... please... make me your girl. i wanna be yours completely."

armin's aching cock throbbed at your begging, he could rip your skirt in two and pound into you violently right there, but he wanted to take his time. you weren't any other girl to him. you were a girl he wanted to stick around for, the odds of the world stacked against you, he wanted to cherish every moment you two were connected. so he kissed your forehead lightly and rubbed his thumbs over your cheeks.

"m gonna take care of you okay dove?" your hands went to tangle themselves in his as you gave them a reaffirming squeeze.

"be gentle with me please, i-i haven't done this-"

"i know, okay? i know. i'll be gentle with you always... i'll take care of you always... you won't ever want for anything i'll make sure of that..."

your heart swelled at his words, you crashed into him and peppered his face with kisses, this complete dream of a man was yours. armin caught your face in his hands and kissed you deeply, hands moving slowly down your neck, stopping at your breasts. you grabbed his face in your hands and uttered softly, "armin... it's okay, i'm not as fragile as you think i am... please, touch me." you placed your hands over his and brought them down to your chest, he squeezed your clothed breasts between his hands as his breath hitched in his throat and you emitted a small moan.

"shit darling, you'll be the death of me i swear."

your lips crashed into one another as armin reached down to the belt buckle of his pants and you hiked your skirt back up to your waist. both of your movements were quick and needy, neither of you ever longing for another person this much before. armin took his lips off yours momentarily, a string of saliva connecting your panting bodies as he looked at you, "if you wanna stop at any poi-"

you shut him up with a messy kiss, your hands moved down to his pants to place yours on top of his.

"armin... just take me already," you begged.

armin nods ferociously as he works to release his cock from his pants, you watch with hungry eyes as it smacks upwards against his white top. you take a big gulp as you look at... it. you'd never seen one outside of pictures before, it had a pretty pink tip with little veins trailing up the shaft.

"w-what do i do armin?" you look down at him from your position on his lap with innocent doe eyes. armin pumps his cock slowly at the sight of you so eager to do well for him, that's my girl, he thinks.

"you don't do anything, let me take care of you okay? i'll guide your hips dove," armin whispers lovingly as he places a hand under your chin to get one last good look at the pretty face he was about to destroy. you nodded and placed a wet kiss to his mouth, tugging on his bottom lip as you pulled away. armin brings his palm up to your mouth and gazes at you with dark eyes.

"spit on it," he demands.

"a-armin the whole thing-"

"go on," he pushes his palm upwards to you, you do as he says and let a bead of saliva fall from your mouth onto his palm.

"more."

you take armin's wrist in your hands and push his palm downwards so you have a better angle, you gather all the spit you could in your mouth and let it cover his palm, saliva slowly gathering at the middle where it dips slightly.

"atta girl," you feel your core flutter at his praises for you. you watch as he brings his spit-covered hand down to his cock, and begins to rub your saliva up and down it in slow strokes.

"why would you-"

"it'll help it fit better okay baby? it'll be tight the first time but i'll help you through it," he coos at you, cock dripping with pre-cum at the sound of your innocent voice asking questions. you silently hummed in agreement as he looks at you one last time for reassurance, you give him a devilish grin.

"do it already blondie."

armin takes your hips in his hands and positions you above his crotch, "hold onto my shoulders doll." you do as he says and he positions his cock at your entrance, rubbing the tip up and down your folds lightly. you hug his neck and hide your head in his shoulder as you moan. the vibration of your voice against his neck drives armin mad, he's absolutely crazy for you. you feel armin begin to lower your hips down on to him and you bite into his neck softly.

"you okay?" he asks softly, lifting your head from his shoulder to look at you. he immediately smirks at your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth hanging open at the feeling of just his tip in you. "mm hm," you respond as your hips jut into his.

"wanna do more?"

"mm hm."

"open your eyes doll, wanna get a good look at you while you take me so nice."

your eyes flutter open at armin's request, he pushes your hips down a little bit further and lets out a dark moan at the sight of your eyes crossing.

"m-more, please," you beg, "fuck pretty girl, okay." armin pushes you down to the hilt of his cock and hums in pleasure at the feeling of you squeezing around him completely. your hands move slowly to push his leather jacket down his shoulders, "wanna hold onto you while you move me baby," you whisper as tears pricked at your eyes.

"okay doll, tell me when you want me to move," armin wipes his thumb across your forehead, moving your hair out of your face as he watches you intently, waiting to see your face change from a look of discomfort to comfort, "you're doing so well for me baby, so, so well, okay?" his thumbs rub softly at your hips, "okay? we don't have to do anything yet, just get used to the feeling of each other yeah?" you bite your lip as you nod your head slowly, focusing on adjusting to the size of armin's length. "hey..." he takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger and brings you close to kiss him, "...you're doing so good. let's just stay like this a minute."

"okay," you whimpered, your lips moved slowly in time together, your hands moving from armin's shoulders to tangle themselves in his hair. you sat there like that, kissing each other fervently as you took armin's cock inside of you, letting the stereo play.

"alright ladies and gentlemen next on tonight's top 40 we have "i'm a fool to want you" by frank sinatra."

...

I'm a fool to want you

to want a love that can't be true...

"armin?" you called softly, your head was resting on his chest, you feel his cock twitch inside of you at the sound of you calling his name. he trails his fingers up and down your back, as you let out a deep breath.

"hm?"

"are you... are you scared?"

"of what darling?"

"what jean might do to you?" you felt your lip begin to quiver and felt your voice become shaky, "i know you told me to shut up about him b-but, my heart aches at the thought of you getting hurt..." you scrunch his shirt up in your fist, armin exhales and rests his cheek on the top of your head.

I'm a fool to hold you

Such a fool to hold you

To seek a kiss not mine alone

"well... darling it's inevitable that i'll get hurt, i don't know what he's planning to throw at me... i asked for a fair fight let's hope he gives me one okay?" you sniffled and feel the tears that you'd been holding begin to roll down your cheeks.

"a-armin, you-you're gonna get hurt real bad because of me... this was a mistake, we're stupid for thinking we c-could be together. ar-armin... i was a mistake, i'm no good for you baby... 'm just a thorn in y-your side 'n you kn-know it," you cried into his chest. you cried and cried babbling like a baby while armin caressed you gently.

"you look at me y/n."

"n-no."

"you look at me goddamit!" he takes your chin and forces you to look at him. you were drowning in his blues eyes as he glared you, you feel yourself clench around him as you react to his rigid tone of voice.

"you are no thorn in my side, you're a godsend, a fucking angel. do you hear me?"

"mm hm," you cry.

"do you believe me when i say that?"

"a-armin i-i don't know..."

armin looks at you with heavy eyes, "you are a fucking angel, and you make me wanna stay here and become a better man than i've been. what can i do to make you believe me baby?" he grabs your face in his hands and shakes you, as if he was trying to shake you awake and make you realize that his words were honest and true. you place your hands on his cheeks and look him dead in the eyes.

"you can take me like i'm your angel armin."

armin's eyes go dark in realization at what you were insinuating. his hands grasp your hips tightly under your skirt as he finally begins to move you up and down on his cock. "oh-oh fuck baby!" you whisper into his lips. armin moves your body up and down like you're a rag doll, you begin to bounce on your knees once armin sets the rhythm, his head rolls back into the headrest as he sees you working yourself on his cock.

"f-uck baby, just like that, you're doing a-mazing."

his hands push your hips back and forth, moving your body feverishly on top of him, helping you keep your pace up.

"mm, wanna go faster armin..."

armin's knuckles turn white as he grips your waist harder and lifts you up just above him. you hold on to the back of his seat tightly as armin begins to thrust up into you, your eyes rolled back at the sensation, eyelids fluttering as if you were drunk on the feeling.

"a-armin o-oh my g-god," you moans were broken with every thrust up into you as your body jolted forward. the cadillac was rocking back and forth as you two desperately fucked into one another, begging to release. you trail your hands under armin's shirt and push down onto his chest, "ar-min i-i'm gonna..."

"m-me t-too, d-doll... go a-head a-and cum f-for me a-angel," he pants into your chest. you take his face and make him look at you, you want him to do one last thing for you before you reach your high.

"a-armin?"

"hm-hmph?"

"p-promise me y-you'll b-beat his a-ass..."

armin snickers as he feels a wave of dominance wash over him, he grabs your hips and lifts you up further as he drills into you relentlessly. you choke on your breath as the sound of your moans overwhelm the car.

"you b-better b-believe it baby. y-you're a fu-cking angel. y-you're my f-fucking angel."

the sound of the cadillac creaking back and forth reaches the other end of the racetrack as armin takes you as his girl. you two kiss each other passionately, chasing your high together.

"t-tell me you're m-my girl," armin growls into your lips.

"i-i'm yours armin! ngh! please, i'm your girl!

"you're my pretty girl yeah?"

"y-yes i'm y-your pretty girl armin. 'm all yours, 's all for y-you."

you scream and push your hand up into the ceiling of the car, bracing yourself as you cum on armin's cock, body shaking violently on top of him. armin pulls you down and hugs you into his body tight as he chases his high next.

"m gonna cum darling."

"cum armin, please."

armin whispers sweet nothings into your ear as he holds you to his chest and fucks the last of his cum into you, your bodies thrashing in each other's arms.

I know it's wrong, it must be wrong

But right or wrong I can't get along

Without you

"the time is now 8:35 p.m. cool cats and kittens, that was "i'm a fool to want you," by frank sinatra."

you lay limp in each other's arms, in a comfortable silence as you traced circles onto his chest, awaiting the arrival of the titans.

"any minute now..." you whisper.

"i'll be okay..." armin rubs your back gently trying to console you, he noticed your breathing has gotten uneasy.

"you'll be okay..." you repeat.

your head jumps off of armin's chest as you hear a bunch of cars revving their engines from the dirt road that lead you two here.

"a-armin-"

he smirks at you, "let the tango begin baby."

you tossed yourself back into the passenger seat of armin's car after what felt like hours, your heartbeat already growing stronger. your bring your hand up to your face and start to pick at the skin on your fingers with your teeth when you feel armin take your hand in his.

"hey, i'll be okay, remember?"

your eyes couldn't help but glass over with tears as you watched jean and the titans begin to drive their cars in circles around armin's cadillac, revving their engines, hanging out the windows while screaming and cheering jean on.

"you got this jean!"

"teach pretty boy a lesson!"

"beat barbie's ass kirschtein!"

"kill him!"

you were visibly anxious, your nerves overwhelming your body. your hands were shaking, you were tugging at your clothes, hell, you might even start crying all over again. the glare of the car headlights swarmed around you while you were suffocating, beads of sweat accumulating on your forehead. you looked over to armin who was stoic as ever, showing no signs of emotion, eyes straight on his target- jean. you watched the brown-haired boy get out of his car in his best leather, he never pulled out that jacket for just anything. he walked over to armin's cadillac with an obnoxious swagger to his step, running his comb through his pompadour in confidence. clearly he was given the motivational talk he needed to go through with this.

jean's feet stopped right in front of the car, headlights glaring right on him. you and armin sat, one of his hands on the wheel, the other on your thigh, as you waited for jean to do something.

"alright barbie! let's dance!" jean shouted as he put his comb away, both his and armin's bruises were still fresh from earlier, just two pretty faces stained in purple and red.

"armin, you know you don't have to go through with this-"

"here... hold my jacket sweetheart, keep it warm for me while i deal with this scum," he shrugs his jacket off and puts it over your shoulders. you watched jean's eyes tense with an overwhelming anger as he watched his rival officially claim you as his girl.

armin gets out of the car slowly, black boots meeting the paved raceway. the titans cooed at him mockingly.

"hey barbie! are all of your parts plastic?"

"blondie's got a storm coming!"

armin stood with a straight face, taking their insults like water off a ducks back. he balled his fists at his sides as he walked up to jean, standing feet away from him with a cigarette hanging from his lips. armin takes a nice, long drag.

"alright jeany boy! let's get this over with nice and fair yeah? put your paws up pretty i've got a girl to take out to dinner."

armin throws his cigarette on the ground and stomps it out with his foot. jean's not even looking at him, he's looking straight at you. with your messy hair, lipstick rubbed clean off, the first few buttons of your cardigan undone, jean knew exactly what happened between you two before he arrived. seeing you ravished for the first time by another man that wasn't him made him livid, all of his common sense and knowledge of fair play flying out the window. and of all people... the guy that just got here, what did he have that jean didn't? jean has been trying to go steady with you since the day he met you, you just never picked up on his advances, always seeing him as sweet jeany boy. he thought he was real close to having you, until he showed up. you came to armin's defense this morning, and questioned jean's motives, you made an enemy of jean the minute you pulled his strawberry shake off the table. your ties were cut, and he couldn't care less about you, every bird in town wanted a piece of jean and you got the most slices, you just didn't finish any of them. and jeany boy, if he heard that name one more time he'd snap. god that name made him foam at the mouth, every time someone says it he just imagines it coming out of your lips. his brain nearly exploded when armin started calling him that... and as he watches you through the windshield of armin's car, as you put your arms through the sleeves of armin's jacket, well, that was the icing on the cake for jean.

jean didn't care if armin wanted to tango, because he was about to turn this fight into a whole flash mob.

so jean faked innocence, putting his fists up to his face, mirroring armin's movements, the two running circles around each other.

in. jab. out. duck. in. swing. out. jump.

armin was fast, his feet floating across the pavement as if he was walking on air, he dodged every single one of jean's hits. but jean, boy did his punch have power. you flinched every time his knuckles came close to armin's face, his hands were on the brink of crushing the blonde boy, but armin didn't falter. he has a girl to take out to dinner, he said. your heart fluttered as his words repeated themselves in your head. you snapped out of your dreamlike state when you see jean's body fling backwards. armin had landed a punch.

armin just landed a punch.

it was a mean one too, you hung your body out of armin's car as you sat in the open window on your side, a smile spreading on your face. you didn't think you'd see the day where you'd actually be happy to see jean kirschtein take a hit to his pretty face. you couldn't believe it. jean leaned up on his elbows and spit some blood out of his mouth as he caught sight of you screaming armin's name, a warm blush flooding onto your cheeks. something in him clicked, a switch flipped in his head as he was quick to redirect his anger. jean swiftly jumped up on his feet and began to walk right to you. your face dropped. the hell was he doing.

"hey y/n! you used to be quite the pretty thing didn't you?" jean spat at you as the distance between you grew smaller. you scoffed and rolled your eyes as you pulled the remainder of your body out of your spot in the window, standing your ground in front of jean.

"the hell's that s'posed to mean jean?"

"it means you're no good to me anymore, meaning you're no good to the titans anymore," your eyes watered at his words.

"you're just being downright mean jean!" you cried.

'hey! jeany boy, your fight's with me... leave her out of it," armin pushed jean's back, beckoning him to redirect his energy to him.

"you..." jean's voice trailed off as he pointed his finger angrily at you, "you- you used to be the pick of the crop, the prettiest bird i ever did see!" your nose scrunched up in anger, but it was competing with your quivering lips, trying to maintain your fierce demeanor as you stared jean down.

"...but- ha! you're just used goods now aren't you darling?" you're body flinched as jean's hands grabbed at the collar of your cardigan, ripping the rest of the buttons down, exposing your bare chest to all of the titans, bra clinging to your skin now burning hot in embarrassment.

"jean! what's the matter with you?" you screamed as you landed a harsh smack to his right cheek, you ripped the gold bracelet out of armin's jacket pocket and threw it on the ground in front of you. he slowly turned his face back to you with a devilish smirk.

"what's the matter with me baby? what's the matter with you?" he snickered. you were in hysterics, mascara streaming down your cheeks, chest a bright cherry red.

"hey! daddy-o! is this how you fight like a man? you go and harass the closest bird you see?! you're no man... now get your filthy fucking mitts off of my girl... and fight me kirschtein..." armin growled as he pounced at jean's back, arms clinging around his neck as he choked out your ex-lover gone sour. jean's hands gripped armin's arms, knuckles turning white trying to loosen the grasp he had on him. all the titans looked on in uneasiness at the situation unfolding, you heard jean try to utter something under his breath. but you couldn't make it out... what was he saying?

"n-now..."

your eyes squinted as you tried to read his lips.

"do i-it now..."

do what now? armin... armin! your eyes widened in realization.

"ar...ARMI-"

armin's gaze shoots to your body when you feel a strong set of arms link themselves around yours as the shadowed figure holds something cold to your neck. sliding it across your skin ever so softly, you see a small line of blood trickle down between your cleavage as you realized what was happening.

"i'd keep that pretty mouth shut if i were you... i don't wanna hurt you..."

connie...

"c-connie! you're kidding right?! this isn't you... you can't keep letting jean take advantage of you like this! you've never even hurt a fly connie now let me go before i laugh!" you spat at the boy with the buzzcut that had you pinned to his chest.

"why'd you betray us y/n?" connie's voice softened.

"this gang stuff is silly connie and you know i think that, i know you think that. i'm not explaining myself to you!" you said as you thrashed in his grasp. this boy wasn't gonna hurt you. his grasp faltered slightly, as you both watched the rest of the titans circle around armin and jean, smacking baseball bats into the palms of their hands, flipping switchblades between their fingers. you feel connie's grip tighten around you... almost as if he was protecting you.

“if i let you go y/n then you run straight into the action, i'm sorry but i cant let you kill yourself like that..." connie whispered into the back of your head.

"c-connie... you have to let me go help armin..."

your eyes swelled with salty tears as you saw that armin was no longer in your line of sight, his slender body was overpowered by the titans in their matching leather jackets, bodies tall and dark. you let your tears fall as you twisted in connie's arms, trying to get his grip to loosen.

"AR-ARMIN!" your scream was blood-curdling as it echoed across the racetrack.

"let this be a lesson to you little bird..." you hear jean's voice fester with loathing and jealousy. you blinked tears out of your eyes as you watched the titans slowly make a path way out of their bodies, just enough so you could see armin standing in the middle of the crowd. his arms were up and guarding his face, his feet dancing within the confines of the circle.

"...next time you think about having play time with the enemy, hold this image in your heart fondly...

jean emitted a high pitched whistle through his teeth, signaling for the titans to move in on armin. your eye's clouded with terror as you watch armin's drive stutter, his stance cowering in a fear only you could notice, in that moment a switch flipped inside of you. he said he'd be okay...

he said he'd be okay.

"ARMIN ARLERT! YOU BETTER STAY ALIVE YOU BLONDE BASTARD! YOU HAVE TO TAKE ME TO DINNER!"

armin's eyes lit up as they connected with your teary ones one last time. your heart filled with butterflies as he gave you a bloodied smirk and winked in your direction before the titans crowded his body. a blow landed to armin's back with a baseball bat, his body staggering forward. armin turned and swung his fists left and right, throwing punches swiftly at anything and anyone he could get his hands on, a few of jean's men falling back. your eyes winced as you watched armin's body be thrown back and forth, blood spewing out of the charismatic lips that were once on yours so gently. the hands that took care of you so well were covered in the blood of other men as he took a hold of one of their switchblades and slashed around like he was in a horror flick. armin was beaten badly, you could feel connie wincing behind you, he was never one for the fighting.

"connie... let me go! i have to help him!"

armin was curled up on the ground, eyes swollen, lips busted, biceps battered. you cried violently as you watched blood seep through his white t-shirt. was he gonna die? oh no, no, no. i have to hold him.

"connie... please."

"y/n you know i can't do that..." he responded weakly, all of the blood and violence obviously getting to his head. you looked up at him with desperate eyes, you knew he didn't want to be doing this, he knew it too.

"unless..." your ears perked up at his change of tone, "...unless i just happened to pass out."

"connie..." you looked up at him with gratitude in your eyes, your heart ached for the innocent boy, he was too sweet for jean's antics, "...you're so much better than them."

that was the last thing you said to connie before his hands loosened their grip on your arms and he fell to the ground. wow, he could be the next james dean, you thought.

your eyes snapped to his limp body, as you watched him give you a small wink before going back to playing dead. your eyes fixated on the mess in front of you as you bolted forward without a thought in the world except for saving armin.

god, where are you blondie?

you thrashed your way through the sweaty bodies, your skirt slowly being caked in blood and dirt as you searched for a familiar blonde mop top.

"armin!"

"armin where are you..." your voice cracked with nerves, you didn't even want to imagine how you would find armin, you just knew you wanted to find him.

and hold him.

and kiss him.

you pushed, pulled, and ducked your way through the maze of brawling bodies when you saw him. he was on his last legs, breathing slow, shaky hands barely fending off the strikes anymore, but you found him.

"ar-armin!" you reached an arm out to him as he looked up at you with those beautiful blues. how could they still glow so bright even when he was like this? he smirked at you from his position hunched over on the ground as he coughed up blood, broken hand clutching to his neck. you tried to squeeze your way through two heavy men as he reached a shaky hand out to you. even within the chaos, your eyes were only locked on one another, you didn't care about everyone else out to get you, you just wanted to hold each other's hands. you smiled brightly at him, your face being a pillar a light in the cloud of darkness that hung over armin's head.

"y-y/n..." armin croaked out to you, tired smile on his cheeks.

you were about to be in each other's arms once more, you didn't care if you died in the crossfire, you just wanted to be holding him while the storm swarmed around you.

"armin! a-armin i've got yo-"

your breath hitched in your throat as you felt a sharp pain in your right side, the only thing you could focus on in that moment was armin being only feet away from you.

"Y/N!" your lover screamed your name like his life depended on it.

and he screamed and screamed and screamed for you.

you looked down to see a pool of blood seeping through to the bottom of your skirt.

"a-armin..." you tried to call out to him but he was already crawling over to you. you fall to your knees as you meet him on the ground, both of you doubled over in a pain like you've never felt before.

"shit man! you fucking stabbed the girl?!"

"i-i didn't m-mean to... sh-shit! she-she-she got caught in the crossfire i swear!"

"we've got to get the hell out of here..."

"we've got to move out! everyone head back to the shop!"

"hey, hey, hey, is she okay?"

"i don't fucking know man th-this is crazy, i've never done shit like this in my life!"

"i-i can't believe this... forgive me father... forgive me..."

the voices around you drowned out as you looked into armin’s eyes, you clutched your stomach with your hand, now coated in the slick of your blood. armin’s eyes grew teary as he looked at you. this wasn’t happening, he thought, this must be a dream. he brought a shaky hand up to your cheek as he took deep breaths with you.

in.

out.

in.

out.

armin laid you down, though beaten to the core himself, he put pressure onto your wound as he laid his hand on top of yours. it couldn’t be that bad, right? it was just a switchblade... those don’t cut deep. it was just a switchblade, right? you could see armin’s thoughts racking his mind as you brought your free hand to his face. his cheek bone was turning a deep purple, his eyes were nearly swollen shut, his nose looked like it had been broken, and his bottom lip was oozing blood. you wiped away one of his falling tears with your thumb as he grabbed your hand and kissed it softly.

“i'll be okay... ‘s not that deep...” you comforted him, trying to win power over his intrusive thoughts.

“you don’t look too hot yourself... blondie... do y-you see m-me crying tough guy?”

armin let out a breathy laugh as you picked on him going all soft for you. he needed to be strong in a moment like this. he sure as hell couldn’t let his angel fall, it was too soon for that.

i'm gonna take care of you...

you won’t ever want for anything...

armin’s words of devotion to you crowded his mind, he promised you all of that, yet he couldn’t protect you from a fight that wasn’t even yours to begin with. this is why i leave good people behind, armin thought. look at what he did to you, this was his fault and no one else’s.

“don’t you go leaving town once they stitch me up... armin,” it was like you read armin’s mind, your breathing was growing weaker by the minute, and armin could barely hold himself up anymore.

“my precious girl...” armin whispered to you, the light in his eyes dying as he stared at his bloody hand intertwined with yours. the both of you were pushing down on your stomach, his fingers linked with yours as your blood mixed together. the last of the titan’s straggled out of the racetrack in their cars, engines revving down the street. though there was one shadowed figure that stood a few feet away from you two. armin didn't even have to think twice about who it was.

“take one more step near her... and i'll slit your throat right here...”

jean’s figure shook in the shadows, sobs taking over his body.

“i-i never meant for this to happen i swear on my grave...” he whispered.

“i'll kill you jean kirschtein... do you hear me?... i'll kill you with my bare hands... fucking do so much as look at me... or her... and your life... is... mine...” armin threatened, his breathing slowing himself, with the wounds he was suffering from, there was sure to be internal bleeding. though he was on his last life, since he ran away from his eight previous ones, armin’s blue eyes burned bright in the moonlight as he glared at jean from the shadows.

the sound of sirens could be heard coming in your direction.

“y-you better go jeany boy, the cops are gonna getcha, so r-run... l-like the coward... you a-are...” you spat, blood beginning to drip out of your mouth. you snickered as you watched jean’s body disappear into the shadows, him and starla booking it back into town.

you and armin were the only ones left on the ginormous race track that consumed your tiny bodies whole. his body collapsed next to yours, he couldn’t hold himself up any longer. both of you laid face up, as the night sky encased you two in darkness, the only thing illuminating your bodies was the light of the stars. armin’s hand clung to your side tight, pushing down on your hand with everything he had in him, making sure you didn’t lose any more blood. he wasn’t going to let his angel fall.

the siren’s blare grew closer.

you looked over at armin and laughed weakly, coughing more blood up, the crimson liquid staining the lips that gave armin life, your eyes were still mesmerized by his face though it was beaten to a pulp. my beautiful boy, you thought.

“you s-still love me... when i look like this d-darling?”

“i'll love you ‘till i'm dead armin... which by the looks of it... could be really...”

“stop that,” armin growled, his face turned weakly to meet your gaze, “don’t you talk like that,” his voice was shaky. you weren’t going to die, armin would convince himself that.

the sirens were trailing up the dirt road.

“to answer your question... no i-i never... got crazy like... this with, j-jean.”

armin chuckled at your delayed answer to a question he’d asked hours ago, you two laid in silence momentarily as armin began to feel your cool blood seep out far enough from you that it met his back, he shuddered at the feeling.

“you m-make me crazy armin ar-arlert... so goddamn crazy,” you feel your eyes grow heavy, grip loosening on your stomach slightly. armin began to cry, and you cried with him.

“look at us... look... look a-at what we’ve gotten ourselves i-into...” armin laughs through his tears, “the things you do for love...”

flashes of blue and red cloud your eyesight, your brains rattling at the sight of the police cars bolting around the racetrack. with what strength you could muster, you squeezed armin’s swollen fingers tightly, your blood seeping through the cracks of your intertwined hands. you loved armin, and now you've completely given yourself to him...

your head jolts awake as you hear the stereo in one of the police cars play a song too familiar, almost too perfect for this fucking absurd moment.

Why does the rain fall from above?

Why do fools fall in love?

Why do they fall in love?

the sirens were right in front of you, vibrant lights dancing over your limp bodies, hanging on to the last breath. you and armin knew you couldn’t leave this earth yet. this beautiful, fucked up, heartbreak-filled world. you had one last thing you had to do. then... and only then could god take your last breath from you.

“p-promise me one… last… thing… angel...”

“yes armin...”

“you-you’re gonna let me take you… to dinner...”

you laughed, oh god, you laughed as if you had any breath left in your lungs to do so. your vision grew blurry and your hand lost its grip on your side, as you saw fuzzy figures rushing up to you and armin with stretchers, hands reaching over your bodies.

“and where do you wanna go blondie?”

“i-i don’t know... i heard the shakes at rosie’s are pretty good...”

a/n: woah, i hope u enjoyed reading tell me about it as much as i loved writing it <3 fun fact: this wasn't even supposed to be longer than a one shot! but this fic... i think this fic is my baby. this final part really helped me get out what i didn't even know i had in me. i love her very much so. + if u caught the tiny grease reference in this big mama chapter i applaud u.

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babylooneytoonz · 3 years

Text

The Vessel [Pt. 7]

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem! Reader

Summary: Geralt is in a fix when he is forced to choose between honor and love. What would he do?

Warnings: Attempted non con inappropriate behavior? Also, this chapter is mostly going to be Yennefer and Geralt, and less of the reader, my apologies but this was important from a transition point of view. :)

[My Masterlist] [My Witcher Masterlist - Read the other parts here!]

The celebration was over, except for a few who were to stay as guests at Yennefer's mansion, had decided to stay and linger in the hall for a bit longer. You were about to retire for the night, as exhaustion was beginning to claw on you; exhaustion from having done practically nothing all night but to find ways you could escape being in that hall, and attract unwanted attention.

However, it turned out that you did still end up attracting someone's attention, even without doing anything. And no, it wasn't the Witcher.

It was almost midnight, and you were about to make your way back to the chambers you were staying in tonight, having decided to carry your fruit plate to the chambers itself so you could enjoy the night to yourself, when Jaskier startled you, appearing out of the blue, and plomping down on an empty bench in front of you.

"Lords, Jaskier. You scared me."

"Did I? I thought it will take a lot more than that to get you to scare," he chuckled, leaning forward so that his elbows now rested against the table.

"I thought you had company. Why would you want to spend time with a lonely woman like me?" You smiled, giving him a raised eyebrow, in a playful way.

"I do, but it turns out, there's someone that would like to get to know you," Jaskier gave you a goofy, wide toothed smile and you frowned in confusion, leaning closer as you raised an eyebrow.

"Well, do you see that woman over there?" You turned your head in the direction that Jaskier was pointing out, only to see a woman dressed in princely red, beautiful golden locks falling down her back, laughing at something Yennefer said. You then turned back to Jaskier, who sat more comfortably, and looked at you, "that's Queen Bagan of Lyria. Yennefer knew her when she wasn't a queen. Back from when she used to work for Queen Kalis—"

"Get to the point, Jas', I'm tired and I would like to retire to the chambers now," you stood up, blocking Jaskier's view of this Queen as you stepped to the side but Jaskier stood up after you, grabbing your wrist to stop you from abandoning him, "Would you hear me out? I really think Geralt's rubbing off on you. You're changing, [Y/N]."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the sudden overly dramatic outburst of your friend, before your eyes softened and you sighed. You supposed you could listen to what he had to say, although you were sure you would most probably regret it later.

"Fine, Jaskier. What is it? Now that you've compared me to that brooding Witcher, I'm forced to listen to you, just to prove it to you that I'm nothing like him." Jaskier couldn't help but chuckle at your words, but it didn't take him long to donn a look of fake seriousness.

"Now that—" you groaned as Jaskier pointed towards someone again, and you were forced to crane your neck subtly so you could follow who Jaskier was talking about. He was pointing at a young man, sitting in a group of men, drinking ale, "that's her bastard son, Henrik."

"What do I do with all that?" You mumbled, your fingers hooking onto a grape as you aimlessly tossed it into your mouth.

"Well, I've been noticing him and I can see that he cannot keep his eyes off you."

You scoffed, more in frustration than in any other emotion, "Well, Jaskier, if you have been noticing him, I think you should keep him, I'm really not in the mood."

"God, woman, would you listen? Typical Geralt."

You rolled your eyes but chose to stay quiet.

"He is rich, and he is interested—"

"I'm an unwed pregnant woman, Jaskier."

"Well, he doesn't seem to mind—"

"Gods, Jaskier. I'm leaving. Good night." You huffed for one final time, this time in warning and turned away, striding away from where Jaskier sighed and shook his head, bringing his pitcher of ale to his lips as you began climbing up the stairs that led to the chambers for the guests.

You sat down, the dress given to you by the sorceress lay discarded on the floor, but you felt relieved to be out of it. Just dressed in your chemise, you pried off the silk covers off the bed, and slid inside, feeling the richness of the fabric over your skin.

You laid down, on your back, your hand resting on your stomach and your other hand under the back of your head as you closed your eyes, exhaustion taking over your body as you felt sleep slowly take over you.

You didn't know how much time had passed, or how long had you slept for, when you woke up at the middle of the night, your sleep having been disturbed by a knock on your door. You frowned, wiping the base of your eyes as you slid out of bed, and slowly crept to the door.

"Who is it?" You whispered, your voice barely leaving your throat.

There was no response, so you thought that whoever it was had probably left. You cursed under your breath, and began turning away from the door when there was the same knock again.

"Jaskier, I swear to the Gods, why won't you let me sleep?" You pulled open the door, snarling at whoever it was on the other side of the door when your eyes widened and colour drained off your face.

"Henrik?"

The blond haired man smiled, the corner of his lips almost reaching his eyelids when he realized you already knew his name.

"Well, commoners mostly call me Prince Henrik, but I think I can make an exception for you."

"I'm sorry, but I think you are in the wrong chambers, Prince Henrik," you began, but he cut you off once more, rather unceremoniously and began speaking again.

"My apologies, I never properly introduced myself at the celebration tonight, I'm Henrik, Prince of Lyria."

Bastard Prince.

"I—" You swallowed the lump forming inside your throat, as a sudden realization hit you. You were dressed rather inappropriately. You immediately turned away, so you were now turned away from him, "Prince, I would request you to leave."

"You what?" His voice grew louder; almost like a bark.

You began closing the wooden door, when his hand latched to it, stopping you from shutting it any further, the suddenness of his actions causing you to flinch and jump backwards. Instead of leaving, he casually stepped inside.

"I came all the way from Lyria to see if the rumours were true." He smirked, in a disgusting way that almost made your insides churn.

"W-What rumours?"

"Well, the Sorceress and that mutant son of a bitch bought themselves a whore, which they refuse to share," he spat, looking at you with sudden hate filled eyes.

You looked from him to the door, but it was hopeless. You took a step away from him, but he closed that one step distance by taking a step in your direction, until you were trapped, the stone wall behind you and the monster of the Prince in front of you. Geralt's words suddenly rang through your mind; Not all monsters are dangerous, some people are too.

"You're used to the roadside filth, aren't ya? Never experienced anything royal before? Now's your chance."

Henrik's ruby studded hands moved to the base of his robe as he slowly began taking it off, and this gave you a quick second to think, and think you did. Suddenly, your feet darted towards the door, your side brushing roughly against Henrik on your way out, the impact of it causing the man to almost topple off, but he was fast too. By the time you reached the door, and began pulling the door open, he grabbed you by your hair, a loud scream escaping your lips as he tugged on your hair and made you drop down to your knees.

"Ungrateful little bitch! Which Prince in his sane mind would even look at you? You are fucking lucky I was interested," He knelt down next to you, his face threateningly close to yours.

Suddenly, the door splintered into two, the splinters of wood flying across the room, the kick so powerful. Bright, menacing eyes regarded you huddled on the ground like that before the hold on your hair relaxed and you could breathe again. Before that, everything had been a blur, but now you could see clearly. Geralt had somehow kicked open the chamber doors, and now he stood, towering over you, holding Henrik by his throat, his fingers coiled around his neck, his eyes almost dark, venomous and his posture tense.

"I think no one has ever said no to you before, Henrik."

"Let go off me, mutant," Henrik began coughing, as he tried to pry off the Witcher's hand, but of course, he failed.

Just then, Yennefer walked into your chambers, her steps still exuding elegance and poise, although she had just been woken up from a deep slumber. Her eyes fell on you, huddled in a corner, your eyes shrunken back in horror, and then she regarded Geralt, walking up to him and fixing her palm on his shoulder.

"Geralt, what exactly are you doing? Let him go."

Geralt's eyes widened, his head turning towards her in a violent motion.

"Let him go? Are you fucking kidding me?"

She smiled, the smile being a fake one as her fingers began stroking his arm, over the fabric of his shirt. She leaned closer to him, and whispered, in a low voice, "Geralt, my love. Can I talk to you for a second?"

His lips pursed together as he struggled to sustain the rage building up inside him, bit by bit. Instead of loosening the grip on the man's throat, he just squeezed his fingers tighter, for two seconds before throwing him off so he landed right outside your room, his back cracking against the stone flooring. The three of you watched, as he stepped up and cursed under his breath, muttering something on the lines of— you messed with the wrong person and you will pay for it — and scampered off.

Geralt shot Yennefer a glare but he didn't stay where Yennefer was. Instead, he walked up to where you were huddled on the floor, and knelt down in front of you.

"Are you alright?" He whispered in a low, husky voice, without a trace of anger or malice in it, just gentleness.

You nodded, and looked away, fresh tears running down your cheeks as Geralt helped you up to your feet, Yennefer's stone cold stare fixed on the two of you.

"I dont— I was asleep and he just came into my chambers, I didnt—" Your lips trembling, you choking out on the words that ran out of your mouth, Geralt sat you by the edge of your bed.

"It isn't your fault. I should have known —"

Yennefer rolled her eyes, but the two of you paid her no heed, as Geralt moved on to tuck you into the covers again, his hand unknowingly brushing against your tiny bump. You felt his breathing hitch, almost the very instant, and he looked down at you, his eyes seeking your permission, and you nodded. Geralt's massive palm came to rest on your belly, almost covering it entirely, as his fingers brushed against the fabric of your chemise his touch gentle and soothing.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," you whispered, as you pulled the covers over your body and Geralt pulled his hand away slowly walking up to a fuming Yennefer, and the two of them walked out and the sorceress chanted some spells to create a barrier over your broken door that wouldn't permit anyone to enter your chamber, especially Geralt.

"Geralt didn't mean it, Queen Bagan," Yennefer arched forward, her elbows grazing against the table the next morning, as she found herself sitting with the Queen of Lyria, and the Prince. She looked from Bagan to Henrik, who was obviously hiding his neck from public view, a scarf wrapped around his neck.

"Yennefer, I didn't come all the way from Lyria, to Redania to have my son be offended by your lover."

Geralt, who had been sitting next to Yennefer, seemingly quiet, let out a low pitched grunt and the bastard Prince lifted his eyes, fixing it on the Witcher and muttered a curse under his breath. Geralt straightened, and almost immediately, the tension was thick on the dinner table once again.

Yennefer's hand latched itself to Geralt's thigh underneath the table as she squeezed it lightly, signalling her lover to let her handle it.

"Queen, Geralt didn't mean to do what he did, the circumstances were not so good when he found your son, in our vessel's bed chambers."

"She is a woman, Yen, not a fucking piece of commodity," Geralt growled.

"She's a whore," Henrik muttered, only to elicit a growl from the Witcher's end once more.

"Well, Yennefer. Lyria has been supportive of you. You are one of the most powerful mages there is, and we have been supportive of you, sheltering you and being allies. Now, you do know what this means. It means that this makes us enemies with Tissaia de Vries, even though we do not like it."

Yennefer sighed, her fingers clasping around the goblet of wine as she pulled it to her lips and took a sip of the sweet liquid, swishing it around inside her mouth before swallowing it. She nodded.

"But now, how do you suppose we continue to support you when my son has been humiliated like this, and for what? A Redanian whore?" The Queen spat, through pursed lips and Geralt's eyes shone, with unrelenting rage.

"Queen, [Y/N] is not just a whore, she is carrying our baby. I am not trying to cover up the actions of my lover—" she turned towards Geralt with a look of disapproval, but before Geralt could retaliate, she had already turned away, "I am just trying to show you that this baby means everything to us."

"I suppose," the Queen nodded feigning a look of understanding as she reached out for her own goblet of wine. She then turned towards Henrik, who leaned closer to his mother as he began whispering something into her ears and she smiled.

"Yennefer. I think we can come up with a truce," Bagan smiled, her glance moving from Yennefer to Geralt, and then back to the sorceress, "Sell her to us. It seems my son has taken a fancy to her. And would like to keep her in his bed." She said, not even trying to mask her shameless forwardness, "Once that mutant child is born, of course. Until then, Henrik would be behaved, I assure you."

Yennefer smiled, the corner of her lips reaching her eyes. She was about to open her mouth, when Geralt intervened, his fist slamming against the table— the impact causing the queen's goblet of wine to spill over.

"She isn't a commodity for sale. And we reject your truce."

"Geralt, we talked about this," Colour drained out of Yennefer's face and she looked from Geralt to the queen, who now sat with her lips pursed together.

"Bagan, I —"

"Yennefer, I've heard enough already."

The Queen stood up, and so did the bastard Prince. She looked down at Yennefer with her malice ridden eyes.

"I would like Tissaia de Vries to align someone to take over your responsibilities in our Kingdom. She could in fact, do it herself."

"Queen—" Yennefer began, but she cut her off again.

"Henrik, get the horses ready. We're leaving. This discussion is over."

Geralt and Yennefer didn't step up as they walked off, sitting together in an uncomfortable silence until the hall was empty. Yennefer then turned towards Geralt, her eyes narrowed in anger.

"Why Geralt? Why would you do this to me?"

Geralt frowned, his perfectly aligned eyebrows creasing together as he let out an annoyed groan and stood up, not bothering to even look at her.

"I wouldn't give up someone's honor, just to please you, Yen."

"What about my fucking honor?" She yelled, hot tears rolling down her cheeks, as her lip trembled.

"That—" Geralt mumbled, loud enough for her to hear it, "isn't honor, my love. That is your hunger for ultimate control. But remember one thing, it will help you, Yen. Power gets into your head and once it does, there is no turning back. It destroys you and those around you. And if that is where you are headed, my love, then you won't find me around to catch you when you fall."

He then walked off, and Yennefer just kept staring at him, her eyes almost turned to stone.

The Vessel Taglist:

@kawennote09 @viking-raider @raspberrydreamclouds @pterodactylterrace @singeramg @historianwithaheart @miss-emilia-cavill @ayamenimthiriel @crazynocturnalkiki @xxxkatxo @coffeebreathy @fanaticnae @kmuir1 @little-jana @pineapplemama @auds24 @sassy-pelican @bitchynicole @cavillsim @ragamuffin285 @hista-girl @oliviali0930 @introvertedmouse @madbaddic7ed @libbymouse @nerra75 @maxineswritingcenter @superawesomegeek @waifu4lifeu @funalpaca @petitefirecracker10 @marantha

Want to be added to the list? Plz let me know via my ask box, inbox or comments. ✨

#geralt of rivia works #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher x y/n #the witcher #the witcher x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill

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a-more-delicious-happiness · 2 years

Note

Hi! I’d like to know more about Alajandra. Do you have a bio for them?

Hey! Well, I haven't yet written a bio for Ala yet, but I could start drafting one here. Thank you for the motivation ^_^. I would be keen to know about your MC if you play as well :)

Name: Alajandra Gloria Astroza Roxburgh (Alex to her friends, Ala to Merula - in the quiet private moments as their friendship -> relationship develops)

Heritage: Mapache Chilean (Maternal), Scottish (Paternal)

Gender identity: On the feminine side of non-binary (she/they)

Sexuality: Bisexual, but prefers women

Birth date: July 23 1973 (on the cusp of Cancer/Leo)

Blood-status: Pure-blood

Current residence: Inverness, Scotland

Wand: Hornbeam, dragon heart-string, eleven-inches, inflexible.

Animagus: Condor

Patronus: Kelpie

Appearance:

Height: 1.63m (5 foot 4)

Weight: 75-80kg~

Build: Medium, broad shoulders, masculine build with a feminine curves on the hips.

Face: Strong jawline, square chin with dimple, heart-shaped face, medium nose with a small bump on the bridge, high cheekbones, smooth, generally unblemished. Full dimple on left side of her mouth, half dimple on right side of her mouth. Bow-shaped lips, bottom lip is slightly fuller than the top lip.

Eyes: Protruding shape, dark chocolate brown. Sharp, fierce eyebrows with a strong arc.

Makeup: She only wears a little purple eye shadow. Subtle black eyeliner. Some concealer under her eyes from long nights. Some bronze contouring around her jawline.

Hair: Short, semi-curly mane with a cowlick, just above shoulder length (think Prince Henry's hair in Ever After). Jet black hair with copper/caramel balayage. Block sideburns to just below her earlobe.

Complexion: Olive, red-based tan.

Tattoos:

Left chest: "To be the love of my own life...", Collarbones: "I don't say this lightly, so don't take this lightly...",

Left shoulder/bicep: Lion geometric stencil (red/orange colouring) with a crab as a crown (blue/purple colouring),

Left foot: "It's not what you've lost, but it's what you find" (she get's this in her fifth year while still hunting for Jacob but finds such solace with her friends, and unexpected yet unspoken sparkles in some of her interactions with Merula)

Jewellery:

Hands: A ruby and diamond gold ring and Claddagh gold ring on the left middle and index fingers. Two thin gold bands on the right ring finger. Flower and gold leaf resin ring on right index finger.

Piercings: Ears - gold dagger on left ear, and thick gold loop in right ear. Gold industrial on left ear. Gold helix on right ear. Diamond square stud on left nostril, gold ring on right nostril.

Dream Profession: Magi-archeologist (Druidic, Incan, Andean, Egyptian ruins) or Potioneer

Hogwarts information:

House: Hufflepuff

Top O.W.L Classes: Potions, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures and History of Magic (she is more a lover than a fighter and these subjects come more naturally to her, but she will get much better at DADA and charms in her later Hogwarts years).

Favourite professor: Professor Sprout, but a deep adoration for Professor McGonagall

Dormitory: Between Rowan's and Tonk's bunks. Giant squid soft toy on the bed. Small cabinet of potions ingredients and a mortar and pestle. Lino prints of Egyptian symbols (done herself) on the walls above her bed.

Glass jewellery case of earrings and necklaces...with a small box with a delicate silver necklace, a jaguar with obsidian spots and emerald eyes, enchanted to sparkle - she doesn't know why has has it...but she saw it one day on a school trip to Hogsmeade, in a little antique store...and in a flash she saw it in her minds eye sitting on the ivory collarbones of a certain Slytherin. She bought it on impulse, but hasn't worked up the courage to give it to...to 'rula.

Extra-curricular interests: Piano, Egyptian mythology, tarot, geology.

Family:

Brother: Jacob William Astroza-Roxburgh

Birthday: 23 April 1964 (Taurus...and uncommonly trouble-making for a Taurus).

Other family: Gloria Maria Astroza (mother, healer), William Jacob Cinead Roxburgh (father, historian), Maria Eugenia Coloma (maternal abuela, Machi, Maphuche shaman), Alexander Rory William Roxburgh (paternal grandfather)

#alajandra astroza #hphm mc #hphm #hogwarts mystery #merula x mc #hogwarts mystery mc #mc x merula

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star-spangledstud · 3 years

Text

SELF-DEFENSE

Request: Um can I request something with steeb🥺🥺👉👈 Maybe him teaching a reader to fight or drive or work out! Thank you❤❤ @donutloverxo

Pairing: Steve Rogers x (female!) reader

Warnings: smut (18+), PIV, lil bit of slapping, nothing crazy.

Word Count: 3062.

Note: Thank you for the request. Sorry it’s taken me so long, I’ve been afk from Tumblr for a while. Hope you still like it!

It’s entirely too early in the morning when your phone rings. Shrill, high tones jolt you out of peaceful slumber. The sound forces you to open your eyes, brain ripped from the dream you were having but already can no longer remember.

With a groan, you roll over in bed, body tangled in pink satin sheets that you’ve managed to wrap entirely around yourself during the night. Blindly, you reach for your phone. Your hand slaps across the wooden nightstand next to your bed until you finally feel the vibrating device cramped between your stiff fingers.

Ready to curse at whoever dares to call you at this ungodly hour, you don’t bother looking at the screen to see who’s calling you. A single swipe and the phone is pressed up against your ear, breath coming out through your nose in short bursts of annoyance while you purse your lips in preparation for what’s to come.

“Good morning, peach,” you hear on the other end of the line.

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you instantly swallow the curses you were ready to spit at the caller down. A smile you didn’t know you were capable of this early in the morning blossoms on your face instead, anger long forgotten by the time you manage to form a coherent reply.

“Good morning, stud,” you say with a raspy voice, followed by a soft, sleepy chuckle.

“Did I wake you up?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone when he hears you yawn on his end of the line.

“Nah. I always get up at,” you look at your alarm clock, “five in the morning.”

“I’m sorry peachy,” he doesn’t mean it; If it were up to him, you’d never sleep, “I just wanted to hear my girl’s beautiful voice.”

With cheeks heating up quickly, you smooth out the soft fabric of your red nightgown. Buying it was, of course, Natasha’s idea. It’s not really your style, but somehow, she managed to convince you it is.

“How was your run?” you ask as you lay back down on the bed and take a moment to stretch your limbs.

“Wet,” he’s grinning, you can tell, “it’s raining.”

“It always rains in New York, big guy. You leaving tonight?”

The silence on the other end of the line confirms it; Steve leaves for another mission tonight. You’re used to it by now, but worrying about his safety sucks nonetheless, and a lump forms in your throat at the thought of missing him again.

“I was going to ask you what time you get off work. I want to see you before I leave.”

“One, I think.. two if it’s busy. Why?”

Steve sighs and shifts in his chair, “you know I don’t want you walking home alone at night.”

“Steve, I’ll be fine. I do it all the time. I’ve lived here my whole life, remember? I’m no stranger to this city.”

“I know you have, but I feel better if I walk you home. I’ll send an agent to pick you up. I have to go now, gotta get ready. I’ll call you tonight to make sure you’re home safe.”

Before he has a chance to hang up the phone, you interject, “you could teach me self-defense.”

It’s silent on the other end. For a brief moment, all you can hear is Steve’s quiet breathing and the clinking of coffee cups in the sink. You’ve suggested a self-defense class to him before, but the reply is always the same.

“We’ll talk about it when I get back, okay? Be safe, peach. I’ll call you.”

“Fine,” you sigh, “if you don’t wanna teach me, then guess I’ll just sign up somewhere in the city.”

“Don’t say that,” he groans audibly, “you know why I don’t want to teach you these things.”

“Steve, you can’t stay by my side every minute of every day. I don’t expect that from you. Nobody does. If something happens while you’re away, I need to be able to defend myself, and let’s face it, nobody is better at this than you.”

“I know,” he admits finally, “I just don’t want you to get involved in any of this stuff.”

“I’m not. I just want to be able to protect myself. Promise you’ll think about it?”

“Okay,” he says finally, “I promise I’ll consider it.”

Two weeks pass after that phone call. Steve gets back from his mission with only a few scrapes and cuts, but all of them heal before he’s even had a chance to see you. He’s glad because he knows you hate seeing him hurt, and you worry too much about him as is.

The sound of distant thunder outside the walls that currently surround you alerts you that Thor is in town again. Still, the raging storm outside isn’t the reason why you’re shaking in your boots.

You tug on the sleeves of your t-shirt and straighten the hem, wondering for a moment if you should’ve picked something more... baggy. In this giant room, you feel very exposed. The gym is a lot bigger than you thought it would be. Granted, you’ve never had a reason to come down here before, but knowing Steve spends so much of his spare time here makes you feel only a little bit at ease.

Steve watches you standing next to the shoulder press machine with your arms crossed when he enters the gym, duffel bag slung over his broad shoulders. He’s carrying two bottles of icy cold water in his hands; one for himself and one for you. He smiles when he sees you’re wearing the Tiffany’s necklace he got you for your birthday, and he can’t help but think you look adorable in your pink t-shirt and ruby work-out leggings.

“Hey peach,” he greets you with a small peck on your lips, “you ready for this?”

You nod and smile gently to assure him, but he can tell you’re nervous. A pang of guilt hits him deep in the chest when he eyes you carefully, afraid he’s pushed you too far this time. It’s one thing to expect his civilian girlfriend of one year to wait for him while he’s out kicking ass for sometimes months at a time. Still, it’s another to immerse you into the lifestyle, much less teach you fighting techniques.

“Born ready, stud,” you respond, sending him a playful wink.

He takes some time to go over general self-defense rules. He tells you to watch your feet, be aware of your attacker’s arms, and to keep your fists as close to your face as possible at all times. He touches your bare skin when he adjusts your posture a few times, and each time his heart twitches because the thought alone of you fighting off a mugger nearly has him losing his fucking mind.

He’s careful with you when you spar for the first time. Even though he would have absolutely no trouble sending you flying to the mat with only one hand, his touches are feather-light and soft. He allows you to hit him a few times, but he can tell he’s not the only one holding back. Steve wants to take it slow, but the sensical part of his brain knows he can’t teach you anything if he doesn’t apply any brute force.

“Peach,” he breathes after taking a break to think, “I need you to hit me.”

“What?” you gulp and bite your lip, doe-eyes widening when Steve places his hands on his hips.

“Is this how you’re going to fend off an attacker? By swatting their hands away from you? By pouting your pretty lips and batting your eyelashes?”

“N..no, but,” you stammer, “I don’t..”

“Come on then,” he urges you to step forward, “take a swing at me. Take me down if you can.”

You take a deep breath, mustering all the courage you have to swing back your fist. Before it connects with Steve’s jaw, he blocks it, twisting your arm behind your back until you’re facing away from him.

The sensical part of your brain quickly realizes you’re never going to win a fair fight, not against Captain America. Then again, you muse, he never told you you can’t fight dirty.

You think quickly, taking only a few seconds to concoct a plan that would make even Natasha proud if she saw it unfold before her eyes. Steve’s already tense, you can tell by how his jaw is clenched tight, and his grip on your arm is firm.

“That all you got, peach?”

He breathes down your neck, causing goosebumps to rise along your heated skin. In a desperate attempt to prove him wrong, you hook your leg under his and bend forward, trying your hardest to pull him down to the ground. Your ponytail flies in his face, allowing him to take in the scent of your shampoo while his rough, calloused palms find their way around your waist to steady you on the mat. Suddenly, you can feel it, pressing up against your lower back. You smirk for a split second, afraid he might see and realize what you’re trying to do, before pursing your lips again into a thin line.

Steve momentarily forgets what he’s doing when he feels you arch your back. His mind trails off, away from the objective of staying upright in position. You turn your head slightly sideways, hot breath fanning against his exposed neck in another attempt to distract him.

You sigh audibly when Steve’s lips press firmly against your throat, lips parting when the feeling of Steve’s muscles pressed tightly against your back becomes a sensation you’re both hyper-aware of. His t-shirt is thin. You can feel every ripple of muscle underneath the tight fabric that is stretched so thin you wonder how the fuck it hasn’t ripped.

The hammering of his heart and the rapid rise and fall of his chest causes your own heartbeat to speed up. In a final attempt to take him out, you once again shove him, sending all your weight into his trembling body. With a loud grunt, Steve loses his balance. His grip on your hips tightens when he allows himself to fall down onto the mat, taking you down with him in the process. The two of you wrestle for a moment. Still, Steve finds himself on top of you before you can protest, left hand tightly gripping both of your wrists while the other gently brushes a strand of loose hair from your forehead.

He leans down, lips ghosting your collar bones and neck before settling on your earlobe. You turn your head, but Steve grabs your chin with his free hand. Your entire body tenses up when his voice coats your skin in more goosebumps, and you wiggle against his iron grip when he whispers in your ear.

“Do you think this is fair?” he mutters, “wearing these tight leggings in front of me. You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

Your pupils dilate, eyes darkening at the deliciously deep grumble in his voice.

“No,” you lie, “I swear.”

He’s needy. You can tell by the way he’s subconsciously grinding his hips into yours. You can feel every inch of his cock through his sweatpants through the thin material of your leggings, and the sheer size of it nearly sends you over the edge then and there.

Steve roughly kisses your lips. Teeth and tongues mash together harshly for the first time in over two weeks. He doesn’t usually kiss you like this. Still, you welcome it, lifting your head off the mat instead into a bruising competition of lips.

Your eyes glance towards the door, and you push against Steve’s heaving chest. He’s already grabbing for the hem of your t-shirt, warm fingers grazing your bare skin when you build up the courage to stop him.

“Wait,” you say, pulling away just as Steve’s hand glides underneath your top, “here?”

“I’m gonna take you right here, peach,” he says while groping your left breast and fondling with your nipple, “right on this mat.”

“What if someone comes in?” you ask, back arching when Steve’s lips once again latch onto your neck.

The warm, wet sensation of his mouth against the most delicate spot on your bare neck has your mind drawing a blank. Suddenly, you can’t remember why you even questioned him. Who the fuck cares if someone walks in, anyway?

“Fuck it,” you reply to your own question, “want you, Steve.”

His hand releases your wrists, allowing you to reach down to the hem of your top. You rip it over your head in one swift motion and toss it next to you, followed by your sports bra. Your tits spring free, bounce in his face. The moment the fabric lifts over your head, Steve’s mouth is on your already tweaked nipple, licking and sucking it how you like it best while you wiggle your way out of your leggings.

“Leave them on,” he orders, grabbing hold of the smooth fabric before you can pull them down all the way.

With your leggings and dampened panties stuck around your knees, your movement is limited. You struggle to open your legs when Steve’s fingers run along your wet folds and groan in frustration when he dips two fingers into your throbbing pussy.

You yelp when he takes his fingers out again and softly slaps your cunt twice with the palm of his hand. He takes his fingers and pushes them into your mouth, chest swelling when he realizes he doesn’t have to tell you to suck on them because you do it instantly.

Three fingers disappear into your pussy now, coated in your saliva and sweet, delicious juices.

“You’re so wet already,” he comments before claiming your mouth with his again so he can taste you on your own tongue, “tell me what you want.”

“I want,” you gasp when he curls his stroking fingers, “your dick inside of me, Steve.”

Your fingers grab at his sweatpants. You yank down the soft, grey material that separates his flesh from you until it falls past his hips and under his toned ass. Steve’s cock, fiery red at the tip and hard like granite, springs free from its confinement and twitches when you allow your fingertips to graze its entire length slowly up and down. Steve bites his lip and holds his tongue to stop himself from cursing, but a small fuck escapes his throat when you fist his dick and guide the tip to your entrance.

“Put it in,” he commands through clenched teeth.

You don’t waste time giving Steve what he desires. After quickly wetting his cock with your slick, you plunge it inside of yourself with a fiery need. A sinful moan escapes your pink, swollen lips, and Steve presses another hard kiss to your open mouth when your hands grab hold of his ass.

He thrusts slowly at first to get your walls stretched nicely around him. No matter how many times the two of you have sex, it always feels like the first time, tight and warm, and oh so delicious. His dick pulsates when he picks up the speed, relishing in the feeling of your fingernails digging painfully into the plump skin of his perfectly round ass.

“You like that, peach?” he locks his hand around your throat, “like it when I fuck you like this?”

“Y-yes,” you manage when he begins to squeeze, “feels so good, Steve.”

“Anyone can walk in and see you like this,” he moans, “you like that, don’t you?”

You arch your back into his chest, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of his weight nearly crushing you. When he reaches down to rub your clit, you almost lose your fucking mind, and he has to bury his head between your tits to stop himself from cumming before you do.

Your bodies are beginning to stick together. The scent of sex is now heavy in the air. If anyone enters the gym looking for a late-night run, they’ll find something they can never unsee—the unmistakable thrill of getting caught red-handed drives both of you nearly over the edge. However, at this point, neither of you can stop if that were to happen. Nothing exists except for the sound of rough breathing, explicit moaning, and skin slapping against skin.

Every sense in Steve’s body is on high alert. He can feel it every time your walls flutter around his aching cock. You can feel it too. His weight on top of you feels amazing. The soft, blonde hair that grazes your neck while his tongue swirls around your nipple feels even better. The sheen of sweat that drips from his chest onto you, you want nothing more. You never want this feeling to end.

“You gonna cum for me, peachy?” he mumbles against your bare skin.

You whine at the knowledge it will end because you feel the coil inside of your underbelly is close to snapping. His thrusts become sloppier, less consistent, and it feels as if he does deeper and deeper with every snap of his hips. There are marks on his ass from where your nails dug into the delicate skin, but it’ll heal quickly.

Your cheeks are red with heat when you cum, lips deliciously parted, and eliciting the most beautiful moans Steve has ever heard. Your entire body vibrates when the orgasm flows through you, breasts glistening with sweat as they bounce while Steve fucks you through it. He fucks you, continues to fuck you until his own orgasm rips through him. Hot spurts of cum cover your insides, and he nearly collapses on top of you, barely careful enough not to actually crush you with his bodyweight.

He stays inside of you for a moment while both of you catch your breath. After he pulls out, he hoists his sweatpants back up over his hips. He kisses you softly while he pulls up your leggings. They snap against your skin when they reach your waist, and he grabs your hand to pull you up off the floor. His cum is still inside of you, dripping into your underwear when you take his hand and follow him out of the gym.

It’s fine, you think, I’ll learn self-defense some other time.

329 notes · View notes

neonponders · 3 years

Text

*sigh* catch me projecting on a Saturday.

I read this post ( @lazybakerart you wizard - ALSO IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY?????? HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹) and am now thinking about a sugardaddy!Billy with an ace!Steve. (*emphasis on grey ace*)

* Please nobody attack me for writing about leather fashion. I’m vegetarian and it’s fiction. Live a little. *

Read on ao3 ~

🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹

Steve just kind of stared at the box on the restaurant table. It wasn’t a ring box, but it was velvet. Goodness knew how many of these he’d seen in his life.

Steve knew wealth. He knew money, and all of the material variations therein.

He’d gotten pedicures with his mother before his father declared such a thing unfit for a boy coming into puberty. If you look like a man, act like a man. As if men didn’t have feet, or something.

Then he went to the salon. That wasn’t so easy to take away. Ventures with her son seemed to be the only things keeping Mrs. Harrington from being connected to her husband’s hip, so Mr. Harrington let them both have this one. Steve, fresh out of graduation, being given a hairdresser’s chair to accomplish summer-fresh highlights.

Mrs. Harrington was also the type of woman to enjoy shoes. Everyone has a thing. For some, they had bags. Others, jewelry. Vintage furniture. Designer wallpaper. Mrs. Harrington enjoyed shoes. It was where Steve learned to carry a woman’s bags, but he didn’t stay outside of the store. He learned how to clean suede, the difference between a 130 So Kate and an ordinary heel. What fetish meant in terms of fashion. He can convert heels sizes in millimeters to inches faster than a cashier calculating change.

Tommy and Carol had joked about Steve’s father having a different kind of fetish. Nothing to do with fashion, and everything to do with sex. Steve had foolishly let them into his mother’s bedroom and they were having a field day with a shoe closet that cost more than both of their houses combined. Still smelling of Nancy and pool chlorine, Steve as good as ended that friendship right there.

Because they didn’t get it.

Mr. Harrington certainly didn’t get it. Could never have such a sexual inclination because he didn’t understand pampering or indulgent interests.

He understood favors. Material apologies.

Mrs. Harrington had a collection of pearls and diamonds that she never wore.

Steve knew she liked opals and pink, pink rubies, because Steve liked opals too. Because he used his father’s money to buy ruby studs his mother actually wore. Because he gets her oldest, broken bracelet with green amber fixed, and she wears it until it breaks again. And then she presented Steve with a thin, gold chain to go around his ankle. With a gleaming, green amber stone flanked by two opals.

The green goes with our eyes, she said. Someone special will see the green in all that brown. It’s why we look good in reds.

Steve was still looking at the box on the table.

“It’s not going to catch fire, the longer you glare at it.”

His dark hazel, creek water eyes slanted up to the man sitting opposite him.

Billy Hargrove.

Stubborn to a fault. Gorgeous as Lucifer with wings freshly burnt off. And just as dangerous.

“I thought I said no more gifts.”

“And I ignored you. Open it.”

Steve went about it like ripping off a bandaid. He sighed at the window beside their booth, wrenching the thing open to see -

Diamonds.

He shut it with a loud clap and set it on Billy’s placemat. “No, thanks.”

The man’s features froze in tolerant stoicism, but he eased the box inside his suit jacket pocket. “You’re a hard one to shop for.”

Steve’s eyes widened dramatically over his wine glass of water. Not because he was sober - he’d willingly pay for an overpriced red, himself, if the handsome asshole weren’t trying to wave his wallet everywhere. “You can stop trying to buy your way into my pants any time you want.”

“If that’s all I wanted, I would’ve stopped three months ago.”

Three months ago,

When Billy breezed into Steve’s life as easily as he had senior year of high school. The two of them certainly deserved some kind of award for having a bizarre history.

Within a handful of months, Billy had arrived upon a turbulent time in Steve’s life, and then left nearly as quickly. Billy witnessed Steve and Nancy’s break-up, Steve’s fall from Hawkins High grace, and even beat his face a little bit. Because that’s what teenage men with bad emotional processing and even worse communication skills do.

Now, almost ten years later, Billy had some kind of empire behind him and Steve, well, didn’t. He had no idea what Billy’s job consisted of, but he got little hints. Mostly the negative space from Billy’s lack of discussing his job told Steve a whole lot.

Steve, who worked two jobs and occasional gigs wherever he was needed. During one such time, while Steve managed the cables and sound boards for Robin’s band, Billy Hargrove sauntered up to him with just as much charm mixed with hauteur as he’d ever displayed.

It wasn’t like meeting an old friend, because they had never been more than acquaintances, and roughly ten years was enough time for a personality to evolve ten different ways.

Steve couldn’t say how much he and Billy had evolved, really, but there was a point in there somewhere.

Maybe it lived in the, “I never expected to see you in a dyke club, pretty boy,” since it was all the coming out either of them needed.

Or the wanton kisses and fervent hands underneath the neon rainbow on the venue’s wall.

Maybe the point sat in the things Billy wanted, and what Steve was reticent to provide. Because Billy was a king who knew what he liked, and seemed particularly talented at walking into Steve’s personal crises like an anniversary.

Steve craved.

But he didn’t know what he craved. What he yearned for. He knew Billy’s kisses made his brain go molten and fuzzy. He knew Billy’s smell brought him just as much comfort, excitement, and anxiety. He knew finally being outside of sex-crazed high school had deflated something in him. The expectations to perform. He knew losing Robin’s stupid game of You Rule / You Suck gave him a secret gift of relief.

But he still craved. He wanted touch but he wanted to be alone. He wanted companionship but he didn’t want sex. But he did enjoy sex, except he didn’t want the expectation of it.

Well.

That was it, wasn’t it?

Billy Hargrove, who could have anyone he wanted plastered to his stupid, unbuttoned chest, had sought out Steve. Steve, king of mixed signals, Harrington. It was only a matter of time before he got his face beaten again. For wasting Billy’s time. For refusing Billy’s advances even though Steve clearly enjoyed Billy’s lips on his neck, and Billy’s hand on his inner thigh. For wanting Billy’s company and flirtation without the rules that finished in the bedroom.

So Steve refused the gifts. The material favors he could’ve sold for a better apartment. Fucked his way to owning a house that his mom would feel comfortable visiting. Be an unfeeling toy who could pay for his mother’s shoes and his own pedicures.

“Steve?”

He turned away from the window and the city’s electric constellations. “Hm?”

“Where’d you go?”

The back of Steve’s throat ached. He looked down at their appetizer plates and decided, “I think I’m going home.” After a second of them both hearing it out loud, Steve said with more conviction, “I need to be home right now. I’m sorry. Thanks for dinner.”

He almost reached for his wallet to pay for his half of the artichoke dip, but reconsidered. He took his old prom tuxedo jacket off on the way to the elevator, waiting for the doors to close before he pressed his face into the old fibers.

It would be easier if Steve didn’t know money. If wealth were a foreign pillow he had never slept on; could be spoiled into never giving it up again.

Like a true mother with a sixth sense, Steve withdrew a package from his mailbox when he returned to his apartment building. Mrs. Harrington’s versions of care packages were fashion magazines, a subscription to The New Yorker, polaroids of her latest closet pieces, and Steve’s favorite candy.

He loved it all. He didn’t need laminated recipes, bags of rice, or resupplied hair products. He went up to his bedroom, stripped down to nothing, and fell into bed with the hefty parcel. Fruity hard candies fell out like confetti, and he stuck a green apple square inside his cheek while he looked through her baggie of polaroids.

Peach suede 130s. Steve felt a warm tickle in his belly at that. She only wore 130s if she was pissed at his father. A woman in 130s walked with the force of a storm, mostly because the damn things were nearly intolerable to wear without a platform.

Another pair of diamond earrings. One of these days, people were going to realize how boring clear rocks were.

Dark, amethyst Miu Mius with the heel and toe encrusted with pearls. Steve’s dad must’ve really pissed her off to warrant that apology.

The magazine subscription had piled up, so he had three New Yorkers to read, but he opened the tome of Vogue first. His mother dog-earred her favorite articles, scent samples, and spreads. She often favored the androgynous and male fragrances. Steve liked that a whole lot. He wasn’t sure if she did that for him because he liked them, or if he liked them because she did that.

He held the magazine to his face as he went to the kitchen, smelling the first fragrance sample while he reached for his cache of boxed cake mix. It was a funfetti kind of night. He rattled the package of sprinkles in his hand while reading about some summer collection where the runway happened in a Greek ampitheatre. Sounded fun. Sounded like a great vacation. Beach, wine, and then modern art fusing with ancient architecture.

Steve didn’t excel in chemistry, but he knew a different kind of magic.

Which didn’t actually include baking. The cake emerged a little dark, but he cut off the burnt top, iced it to glorious, sugar perfection, and took a slice to bed with him. He turned the parcel upside-down for the last of the candy to come out so he could throw the envelope away -

Two bottles of nail polish landed heavily on the bed. Steve lifted the darker bottle to see a purple so ebony he thought it was black until he opened it to see the paint up close.

Purple and peach. To match his mother’s shoes.

Not many people understood his parents’ methods of producing or avoiding affection. But Steve did. He shook up the poison violet and painted his toenails in between forkfuls of cake.

He didn’t hear from Billy the next day.

Or the next.

As bad as Steve felt, he couldn’t say he minded. Nor would he be surprised if Billy never called him again. The idea brought a lonely peace during the commute to work, reading his magazines on the train before keeping them safe in a folder that he stuffed inside his backpack. Even if Steve’s chest felt like a cold balloon, with its latex worn thin and tired, he had his little things to keep him warm.

Then a knock on his apartment door.

Steve answered it with a cheek full of cake, interrupted from making his grocery list of actual nutritional value -

Billy had never visited before. Steve stared at him long enough for him to ask, “Are you going to let me in?”

Steve glanced at the box under his arm and turned into his apartment with a sigh. Billy closed the door behind him as he remarked, “You don’t know what’s in it yet.”

There wasn’t exactly anywhere for Steve to theatrically storm off to. His kitchen was also his living room, and a half-wall partitioned the bedroom off to the side. His apartment was one long rectangle, and Steve remained stuck in the middle of it.

“Billy, I don’t know what you want from me that you think you can get from expensive things.”

“I don’t recall asking for anything in return,” he drawled while removing his coat.

“Don’t take that off,” Steve retorted.

“I’m taking it off.”

“This isn’t going to be a long visit.”

“Would you at least open the damn thing first?” Billy presented the box on the flat of his hand like a waiter’s tray.

Steve knew a shoe box when he saw one. He swatted the lid off the box before he even meant to. He was so tired of this game. Of these rules. He doesn’t want to see some snotty designer sneaker that isn’t to his taste. Some item the rules would dictate he accept without complaint. Or some chunky, foamy plastic, glorified tennis shoe that is over hyped . . .

He sees the red first.

It’s not a sneaker.

Hot Chick heels. 100mm. Black suede on top, red bottom. The leather around the heel scallop-cut like minimalist flower petals.

Steve’s breath has stopped in his chest. The pad of his thumb moved across the soft, matte leather before he stops himself. He tries to look stern when he dares to peek up at Billy, but those water-turquoise eyes are steady on him, absorbing his every reaction.

“These don’t exist in suede.”

Because they didn’t. Hot Chicks came in patent leather only.

“They do now.”

“Louboutin sizes down.”

“Then we’ll have them stretched.”

Steve is losing. Billy knows he’s losing. Billy - he -

“How - ?” Steve begins but stops. He closed his eyes and swallowed, only to flinch a little when Billy grasped his chin, holding him in place as he leaned in to lick the corner of his mouth free of icing.

“Will you try them on for me?”

Steve feels a mixture of defeat mixed in with petulance and vulnerable glee as he warily takes the box to his humble couch. Billy looked at his bed, and then to the kitchen on the other side of the apartment. He strolled into it and lifted the knife for a slice.

Steve, meanwhile, took his time. He opened the paper from where it had floated back over the shoes. He lifted the box to inhale the leather. He took one shoe out just to...see it. Look at it. Read the number stamped on the red arch.

Steve had to remove his socks, revealing his lacquered toes as Billy sat next to him with a plate. He eased the coffee table out of the way, giving Steve room to wiggle his foot into the severe 100mm heel.

They were hardly glamorous under his old, cut-off sweats.

But.

He’d never actually seen his feet in heels before. Never bothered to try to find his size.

Billy handed him the other shoe, and stood up with a ready hand. Steve wiggled into it and accepted his hold as he stood up.

How do you walk in those? he’d once asked his mother.

Trust the heel, my love, she’d answered, strolling around her bedroom in her 130s. If you’ve paid enough for it, it better hold up your entire form, and your dating baggage.

Steve had laughed, but listened to her every word. Move like a wheel barrow. You pivot on your toes, like the wheel, and rest on the heels.

“I’ve got you,” Billy purred when Steve teetered. Just a little.

“Why did you get me these?” Steve had to ask while he began to ease his arm off of Billy’s shoulders.

“Might’ve had a look inside your mail,” he admitted shamelessly. “I thought you might’ve ordered something and I could finally see what you liked. Instead, it’s the one thing I’ve seen you accept.”

“You’re a creep,” Steve declared, but he couldn’t look away from his feet as he strolled around the coffee table.

Billy laughed and sat down to his cake. “This is good.”

“It’s from a box.”

“It’s still good.”

Things . . . changed, after that. Billy came over just to come over. And he pestered Steve with endless questions.

“Do you like these?” he asked with his nose against the magazine pages.

Steve towered over him in his heels, but he’d wash dishes in whatever he wanted, thanks very much. And leather needed to be worn, as his mother taught him. Plastic is trash. If it comes from a living creature, it lives on a creature.

Steve snorted beside him. “My mom crimps those pages.”

“But do you like them?”

“They’re fun in magazines, but perfumes were never really my thing.”

“What is your thing?”

“Right now? You, elbows deep in here.”

Billy perked right out of the magazine only to lock onto the sink. “Because you’re having trouble reaching it now?”

Steve meant to have a witty come-back, but he got caught up in his own giggles. “Yeah.”

Then,

“Can I stay the night?”

Something must have flashed across his face, because Billy added, “Not for sex. I’ve taken the hint, all right?”

Steve slowly unfolded his socks where he sat on the foot of the bed. “Why do you want to?”

Billy wiped his hands on the dish towel and padded across the room to sit beside him. “Because I want to taste you before I sleep. And I wanna taste you when I wake up. I want your snark in my ears all the time - ”

“All the time?” Steve repeated, deadpan.

“Yeah, all the time. I can’t believe it either.”

Billy’s features were warm, unbelievably warm as he watched Steve laugh. “Of course I want to have sex with you. But I miss you when... I miss you all the time. It’s embarrassing.”

Steve rolled his eyes onto him, to which Billy defended, “I have things to do.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re the big man in town,” Steve babied, pushing his chest so he toppled backward.

“I am, actually,” he crooned, his hands finding Steve’s legs easily when he straddled him. “I’d work better with you on my desk.”

“My hairy legs and scraped up heels?” Steve threatened breathily, holding Billy’s cheek and jaw in one hand while he leaned over him so all Billy could see was Steve.

“All of it,” he exhaled, and pulled Steve’s head the last inch for a kiss.

Billy’s next gift was a pair of slippers. Plush, soft, and perfect after an afternoon in 100s.

Then he gave Steve a massage. Steve could accept those with ease. The balls of his feet hurt and even blushed a faint indigo from being so unused to heels. The warm attention of Billy’s hands on the arches of his feet, heels, and ankles; as well as the cold tennis balls he stored in Steve’s freezer to roll along his feet.

By then, he’d seen Steve’s anklet. So the next shoe box Steve opened were dark green suede, as poisonously dark as his mother’s violet heels. The toe was bare, but the heel was encrusted with opals. The milky stones flashed green and orange as Steve walked in the 120mm heel.

“How do they feel?”

Steve, with far more mastery over heels now, pivoted on his toes and planted one on the couch in between Billy’s thighs. His warm hand cradled Steve’s ankle immediately.

“What if I shaved for these?”

“Then I’d never take my hands off you.”

“So nothing would change,” Steve giggled, teasing gone as he landed on Billy’s lap. The man underneath him hummed his mirth into Steve’s mouth, his other hand burying in Steve’s hair while he let Steve control the kiss, explore his mouth.

“I thought they’d go with your eyes,” he said when the kiss petered off and Steve kissed his nose. Billy touched the pad of his thumb high on Steve’s cheek. “There’s a little bit of green there.”

Steve let Billy fuck him in those shoes.

Because he finally craved all the way, beyond fear of rules. Beyond the existence of toys. He craved Billy deeper than skin, and Billy gave it to him.

And when Billy got him a pair of 130s . . . blood red and spiked with tiny, crimson points, he let Steve fuck him.

#everything i know about shoes i learned from Violet Chachki #harringrove #ficlet #asexual!steve #sugardaddy!billy #sugarbaby!steve #neonponders #pondermoniums #lazybakerart #happy birthday love!!!#no i don't know billy's job #cover a plot hole with an unreliable narrator~

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