riiwriting - Tumblr blog

riiwriting · 1 year

Text

Conflict of Interest | Solomon (Obey Me)

summary : you should have known that an apprenticeship under your best friend would bring nothing but trouble. keeping relationship strictly platonic was difficult enough in itself, so it was inevitable when your additional time together drew you into one another's arms. the only issue with falling in love with Solomon was that you knew nothing would ever be the same.

no pronouns / second person pov

warnings : explicit language, no actual smut but pretty direct allusions to sex, mildly toxic relationship

very loosely inspired by the Bright Eyes song Lua (and the Mac Miller cover of it on soundcloud) :

and i know you have a heavy heart / i can feel it when we kiss

me i'm not a gamble / you can count on me to split / the love i sell you in the evening / by the morning won't exist

what feels normal in the evening, by the morning, feels insane.

To say that you and Solomon weren’t on good terms would be an understatement.

It hadn’t always been like this – in fact, until very recently, you had held no one closer. Your close friendship had only gotten stronger once you officially adopted the role of being his apprentice. You had always been apprehensive about mixing your professional and personal lives, but you knew there was no one you trusted more to help you hone your magic than your white-haired friend. And after everything the two of you had been through together, no one else understood you quite as well.

The two of you had more than proven that you made a good team, both as friends and sorcerers. After months of spending nearly every moment together, there was no one you felt safer with – no one you cared for more deeply – than your mentor. There came a point where you couldn’t fathom anything, not even fate worst’s punishments, threatening the bond that you shared.

Then Solomon made the very mistake that you had sworn you would never make.

He sashayed across the invisible line drawn so thinly between you – the line you had been pacing frantically along for months. It was inevitable; you’re sure you would have caved and made the same error if he hadn’t. Drunk on excitement and a little too much wine, there was no better atmosphere to destroy everything the two of you had so carefully built together.

The inevitability of it all was painfully obvious by the way you melted in his hands when he touched you, pulling your hips against his with an unashamed grin. It was obvious when your eyes fluttered shut on instinct at the sensation of his cold fingertips grazing your warm cheek. And it was obvious still when he desperately covered your lips with his own, and you realized that this was what you had truly been waiting for, all this time.

It was the beginning and the end of it all. You spent that evening, and many more just like it, disregarding all common sense in a frenzied haze, desperate to scratch an itch that had been burning in both of you for far too long. Nothing about it warranted any conversation between you, as it never felt necessary.

In such moments, he was as eager as you were restless, the glide and feel of his bare skin against your own seemingly the most normal thing in all of the three realms; like you were destined to fall for him. As though he wouldn’t rest until he had come to know every inch of you, his intentions rarely clear and almost never pure.

You knew from the conditions of it that the depth of your emotions were not reciprocated. You had avoided it for so long because you knew he would ruin you, and you were of the impression that he most likely knew it too. It was common knowledge that he couldn’t love you, but when his head was between your thighs, watery eyes shining up at you in near worship, it sure as hell felt like he did. And if your desperate cries of his name weren’t enough to show him how you felt, you hoped the pretty purple marks you painted along his collarbone did the trick.

The unfortunate thing about time, of course, is that evenings always come to an end. Sometimes, waking up in the morning is a beautiful thing. Other times, waking up in the morning, deeply sore with a pounding headache, means facing the unfortunate reality that you made a mistake.

That’s always what waking up in Solomon’s bed meant. The same bed, yet miles apart – at arm’s length, if he was still there at all. He had wanted you so fiercely just a few hours ago. You had known all along that you didn’t want this – you didn’t want to put yourself through this – and now you had. The blame fell equally across the two of you. You each had sins to repent.

You’d think you would learn from your mistakes, but you didn’t. Not a week later, when you found yourselves alone together in a train cabin on an uncomfortably long trip in the human realm. Or two weeks after that, when he called you in the dead of night just to hear your voice, begging you to come to him. While you typically did quite well with your lessons, you seemed to be having a hard time learning this one.

You didn’t care to know what his purposes in nocturnally pursuing your heart were. Perhaps you were simply convenient, or maybe you were just someone he was comfortable with. You doubted anything more. But you believed with aching decision that you would keep running this race however long it took. He was still, at the core of everything, your best friend. You craved consistency from him, but you were content with whatever cards fate decided to play. You would’ve been content with anything, as long as it was him.

Now you could hardly stomach the sight of him.

Yet here you were, reliant on him once again.

Lost in past, there was no one else you could contact who might be able to help you figure out what the hell was going on. It just so happened that he had been looking for you too, apparently unsatisfied with the way you left things.

“Well when you suddenly disappeared, I had to come look for you,” he said earnestly, as though his concern was genuine. As though this was nothing more than another adventure for him in the Devildom.

You couldn’t help but scoff, “Funny, how quickly you worry when I’m not at your convenience.”

You watched as his face shifted from concern to frustration. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re also my student and friend,” he said sharply.

You raised an eyebrow, fighting against the anger that flared in your stomach. “Also?” you repeated scaldingly. “What exactly is the first thing you think of when I come to mind?”

He rolled his eyes, biting his lip to keep from snapping at you. After he had gone through all this trouble, practically cementing himself in the past with you, still unsure of a way back, he was infuriated that this was how you chose to greet him. As much as he tried to fight it, he was also frustrated that you wouldn’t believe him when he said he had been worried about you. He knew things had changed, but he had never thought you could believe he didn’t care about you.

You were expecting an answer, and it took him a moment to work out how to properly articulate one. “I was speaking in reference to which of our relationships you clearly value the most,” he spoke apathetically.

His assumption seared at your chest, and you had to dig your fingernails into your palms to resist the urge to curse him. You knew he’d be stronger than any curse you could conjure anyway, especially in your current state of mind. You opted for non-magical words instead. “It’d be in your best interest not to assume you know how I feel,” You cautioned.

When he simply raised a lazy eyebrow, your frustration reached a fever point. Trying to collect your anger to formulate a rational argument, so it was inevitable when you threw your hands up, your eyes threatening tears.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

The air of Cocytus Hall grew still. For a moment, Solomon wasn’t sure if his anger was fading or growing worse. Regardless, his composure hardly changed. “Then why do you?” he asked.

You wanted to scream. “You know why,” you seethed through gritted teeth.

His expression flickered briefly, his cool expression drifting into a soft look of shame. It was only a matter of moments before he was back to his normal self, quietly admitting, “I do know why.” He let a silence fill the air, unsure of how the hostile look in your eyes was making him feel. After a breath, he dared to say, “I want to hear you say it.”

Only he would be pompous enough to make demands in the midst of an argument. As a mentor, his arrogant insistence was welcomed, but when he got like this…

“Why?” You began your interrogation, your voice raising against your will. “Why must I always lower myself for you? Why do I always have to be the one who’s vulnerable? Who’s at your convenience?” By the end of it, you were shouting, and you had nearly cleared the room, putting yourself directly within arms reach of Solomon.

You wouldn’t hit him, of course. You’d never do such a thing, not even in your worst of tempers. But you could feel your anger bubbling through your veins, like steam rising from your skin. You wanted him to be able to feel how much you hated this. How much you hated that you were stuck here with him. How you hated the way you felt about him.

“You’ve never said it,” Solomon simply answered, his demeanor unfazed by your new proximity. If anything, he used your movement to his advantage, straightening his back to perfect his posture, a silent reminder of who exactly you were talking to.

Still, he knew well that you weren’t one to shy away quickly, not even from him. “Why would I?” you countered, your eyes narrowed and dark. “I do respect myself, Solomon.”

“I see it in your eyes every time I take off your clothes,” Solomon hummed in a low voice, his gaze still holding an argumentative heat. “I feel it every time you kiss me, every time you ask me to stay a little while longer. You couldn’t hide it if you tried, MC, yet you’re too damn stubborn to admit it to my face?”

At that point, your anger bubbled over into embarrassment, which bubbled into helplessness. You didn’t understand why he was being so cruel. “Why do you insist on making this so painful?” you asked, at this point, seeking mercy.

What you were seeking found you. Solomon’s eyes softened, the expression different from his usual lustful gaze. He let his passive façade slip, exposing a gentle vulnerability I hadn’t seen from him in quite some time. “Why can’t you just admit that you’re in love with me?” he asked, his voice thick with repressed emotion. Your gaze faltered, and it was his turn to push back. “What is so terrible about your attraction to me? Why are you so ashamed?”

“This is why!” You snapped quickly, your anger returning. “Because you know exactly how I feel about you, and you hold it against me. You use is to your advantage, for your entertainment!”

A sudden look of desperation flashed across his face as he finally understood how you truly saw him. “You think I want you any less?” he asked in a quiet plea. Suddenly, the thought of you thinking such absurdity reignited his anger. His voice raised as he pressed, “This isn’t just some game to me.”

A slight scoff slipped past your lips on instinct, causing his shoulders to tense. When he peered at you with burning curiosity, you finally voiced your deepest thoughts. “Solomon, you’re using me! You’re using how I feel about you!”

His initial instinct, of course, was to say absolutely anything he could to prove to you otherwise. He had meant every drunken whisper and lustful remark, every desire for you he had ever had. He needed you just as dependently as you had ever needed him. He had lived for centuries and never encountered anything that compared even remotely to you.

He longed for you achingly, but knew that the two of you had a lot of things to balance. You had a lot of roles to fill. He had always figured that there was simply a time and place.

Now, hearing your devastating beliefs, he wanted to argue, fight, plead – hell, the man was ready to drop to his knees. But as he turned over the entirety of your statement in his head, he suddenly couldn’t focus on his need to reassure you. His mind fixated on your vocabulary, and the way that even now, even after everything you both had said, you still had not said that you loved him.

It was driving him mad.

A wave of anxiety had him running a hand through his shaggy white hair, tugging almost painfully at the roots. When he withdrew his hand, his hair was a tousled mess, and the sight of it made your breath catch. His eyes settled on you in a silent plead.

You don’t know what it was, or what about it was so compelling, but you seemed to be able to read his expression fluently. Something clicked in your brain, forcing you to the conclusion that maybe this was something Solomon needed.

You were pleased when tears didn’t settle into your eyes. Maybe you had been doing a good job getting over it. “I just don’t understand why, Solomon. Why are you doing this to someone who loves you so much?”

There it was. The word left your perfect lips and strung Solomon up by his throat, forcing him to completely freeze into place. He had been directly asking for it – begging for it – but he admittedly wasn’t sure you’d ever cave. Even then, he didn’t know if it would have the impact he hoped.

It wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t exactly a whole, intended confession. It left him wanting, aching to hear you repeat it a little more clearly. The more he thought about it, the more he discovered the he wanted to hear you say it over, and over, and over…

Your heart fluttered at the genuine desire that clouded his grey eyes. For so long he had wondered if fate had simply decided that being loved was not in the cards for him. Of course, he had heard false declarations in his lifetime – insistences and sweet nothings thrown his way from demons and humans alike in an attempt to get something from him. He had on many occasions been consumed by lust, left to wonder if anyone could ever truly long for him in such heady exasperation.

He had dismissed such musings long ago, deciding within the first few centuries of his life that he had nothing to gain from dwelling upon his condition. He had become one of the most powerful sorcerers – one of the most powerful beings – in all the realms. Certainly, his energy was better exerted onto other things.

Yet now you were here, eyes flared indignantly, the words he always found so far out of reach laying on your lips. At long last, the one quality he thought he was truly incapable of possessing. The lone piece missing from his immortal soul. Years ago, accepting Diavolo’s terms of an exchange student program, Solomon never would have thought that what he had been seeking for so long would turn out to be you.

But when your eyes finally gave way to tears, your jaw quivering in a fight against your frustrated sobs, there was no doubting it. “Are you happy now?” Your voice shook as you questioned him, your watery eyes squinting against the weight pooling against your lashes. “You win, Solomon. I love you, and I’ve always fucking loved you, and you’ve never once deserved it.”

Something in his brain snapped. His words caught in his throat, his body too far stimulated with the simultaneous relief of hearing your confession, and resentment at your regret. You accused him so easily of being cruel, yet freely stood before him, assaulting his pride with the most shattering contradiction imaginable. He should have reminded you of your fault in this, held the mirror to your eyes as you accused him being indecisive with your feelings.

But he couldn’t blame you. Nothing about his flippant ways warranted being loved by you. Not the way he disappeared for weeks, sometimes months on end, withholding a menagerie of secrets from you. Not his cocky demeanor every time you caved and admitted you needed him, nor his snarky remarks whenever you genuinely sought out his comfort.

He couldn’t help who he was – what he was – but he had so often proven that he really did possess the ability to treat you properly. He knew you better than anyone else. For so long, he behaved as though he would do anything in hell and creation to keep you safe; even now, he was clumsily putting himself into harm’s way to bring you home. He didn’t understand why you couldn’t see that.

“I don’t feel like I’ve won,” he eventually admitted in bitter reverence. “I feel like I’m very much losing something very important.”

A pressure weighed on your chest as your shoulders heaved an exhausted shrug. “We can’t keep doing this,” you finally surrendered.

As soon as the words began to leave your mouth, Solomon began shaking his head. “MC, please,” he begged, his eyes glossy. “I need you.”

His voice was gutted with his admission, the most sincere you’d ever heard it – or possibly the best performance. You shook your head at what you assumed was his final futile attempt to keep you from walking away. To you surprise, when you turned to do just that, the sorcerer bolted in front of you, blocking your path to the door with a desperate look in his eyes.

“Solomon…” you warned, your tone sharp.

He held his palms out in a signal of peace. You understood the expression on his face as a request for one final chance to tell you how he felt. When you didn’t move, he let his hands fall to his side. “You don’t understand. I have never needed anything but my own talents. I have hundreds of years of experience, and yet I don’t think I would know how to move on from you leaving. All this time, it was as if I’ve been missing this piece of myself. Then one day, there you were, and…”

He trailed off, his eyes adverting from yours as he let out a deep sigh. After a moment to compose himself, he returned his attention to your awaiting gaze. “Neither of us are perfect, me particularly less so,” he admitted bashfully. “But we can’t change who we are. I am, and will be for as long as the earth turns, so deeply sorry that my actions ever led you to believe that I do not love you. I never intended to inflict any of this misery on you. But you have to understand who I am.”

At first, your frustration stabbed at you, insisting pessimistically that he was simply making excuses. The longer you gave yourself to steep, the more you seemed to understand the expression drawn across his handsome features. He had rarely, if ever at all, spoken about past relationships or flings. You had never allowed yourself to assume one way or another, but his testimony seemed to be proving to you that he was so desperate for you to love him because he had never been loved before.

It then dawned on you that he really wasn’t asking you to continue allowing him to carry things on as they had been. He wasn’t asking to use you. His eyes were begging for you to simply be patient with him. You loved the man he had been when you were friends, on those warm evenings, and he was quietly promising to become that man permanently, if you would just stay.

You hated the way your resolve crumbled when his fingers tentatively reached for your wrists, gently pulling your hands into his. You knew that he should have run out of chances by now, but you had to admit that neither of you had exactly been clear in your communication before. You were inclined to give in just because of that.

The problem lied in the nature of Solomon’s words. He was speaking the truth, as you knew, but his admission was not the promise of quick change that admittedly was ideal. It was a request of commitment – and, in fairness, an alleged vow of the same. He was asking for you to be with him, to help him become someone worthy of your devotion. It was no small ask, but his hands had moved to settle on your waist, and you found yourself relenting.

“I’ll stay,” you conceded quietly, absentmindedly stepping further into his reach. One of his hands moved up your body to caress your cheek, his eyes burning with relief and desire. You allowed him to press a soft kiss to your lips, but pulled back as he tried to deepen it. Catching his desperate gaze, you reiterated, “I will stay for now.”

Solomon’s eyes flickered. You knew he was already thinking of future ways to prove to you that he was worth it. The thoughtful expression quickly disappeared, replaced by a look of admiration that you were becoming quite familiar with. “I’ll take any time you’ll give me,” he confessed feebly before regaining control of the situation, kissing you fiercely.

This time, there was no pulling back. Not as he kissed you hungrily against the mantle in the living room that had just moments ago been a battle ground, his thigh braced between your legs as you moaned his name against his mouth. Not as you felt him press against you, every excited muscle of his body fighting desperately against his clothes. Not as he led you stumbling down the hall to the room he had claimed as his own, telling you between kisses that it was your room now, too.

You didn’t pull back as you allowed yourself to succumb to the familiar comfort of being with him. It was different this time, your minds and bodies freshly fueled by the emotions you had shared earlier. This time, when his haughty gaze told you he loved you, you believed him.

And when you woke up in the morning, anxiety pooling in your stomach at what you had yet again done, you found yourself being kept warm and safe by the protective arms of your mentor. Feeling you stir against his chest, he pressed closer against your back, kissing you lightly on the back of your neck. “Good morning, darling,” he murmured, the words casting a slight breeze across your skin.

There were no feelings of insanity as you turned in his arms, your heart burning at the sight of his half-asleep smile. When you dared to press a kiss onto his lips, he fell right into it, his hand against your lower back holding you close. When he finally released your lips, your head was in a daze. Belligerently, you murmured, “I love you.”

His body tensed against you, still not used to being on the receiving end of those words. His reaction instilled panic back into your chest, as you worried that he was going to end up regretting his vulnerability after all.

You were well prepared to scramble away from him, until you felt his lips brush against your skin; first your forehead, then from your temple to your cheek bone, dotting a purposeful line down your jawline until he paused over your lips. “I love you,” he repeated back to you. “So much that I can’t stand it.”

And when he kissed you again, his lips moving perfectly against yours, you finally understood what he meant about being two parts of the same whole.

#obey me otome #shall we date? obey me #obey me! shall we date?#obey me / reader #obey me oneshot #obey me #obey me solomon #solomon x mc #solomon obey me #solomon x reader #obey me angst #solomon angst #obey me nightbringer #nightbringer #nightbringer solomon

179 notes · View notes

riiwriting · 1 year

Text

the people have spoken

solomon oneshot coming soon <3

#it’s going to be angsty #at least a little bit #solomon obey me

9 notes · View notes

riiwriting · 1 year

Text

who are all these people voting on my poll and why aren’t you following me 😪 i promise i’m fun

#my writing is okay too i guess #rileys notes

1 note · View note

riiwriting · 1 year

Text

who next

#shall we date? obey me #obey me otome #obey me!#obey me mammon #obey me solomon #obey me beelzebub #beelzebub #solomon #mammon

2 notes · View notes

riiwriting · 1 year

Text

After The Party's Over | Satan (Obey Me)

summary : Parties in the Devildom always seemed to end in you caring for one of your drunken housemates. While you would never object to helping your friends, it sometimes got exhausting having to sacrifice your enjoyment for theirs. More often than not, Satan offered to lend you a hand in babysitting his brothers. After a particularly eventful party at the Demon Lord's castle, the two of you finally find a much needed moment alone.

no pronouns / second-person pov

warnings : teen rating for slightly (emphasis on slightly) suggestive content. depictions of alcohol and drinking

this one got away from me and is a bit long. apologies if long ficlets aren't your thing.

You had long since grown accustomed to the aftermath of parties at the castle. More often than not, you were stuck trying to control Mammon and Asmo as they drunkenly begged for the festivities to continue. Or worse, you were on Beel duty, tasked with keeping him out of the kitchen while the staff cleaned up. You weren’t sure when Lucifer had decided that you were in charge of babysitting his overzealous brothers every time they drank, but it became increasingly difficult once you found yourself comfortable enough to drink along with them.

The close of Diavolo’s birthday was no different than any other event, with you just a little tipsy from a few shots you had let Solomon talk you into, and Asmo running amuck trying to scrounge together as many phone numbers as possible. The fifth brother was noticeably missing from your group as you loitered near the front door, waiting for Lucifer to join you.

As you typically did in group situations, you had gravitated to Satan’s side, and were welcomed invitingly. He slung an arm around your shoulder the second he realized that he was your destination, smiling to himself when you leaned into his side. You had just wrapped your arms around his torso when Lucifer appeared in the hallway, apparently having finally finished his farewells with Diavolo. He took inventory of the six of you before realizing who was missing.

He immediately sent you a decisive look, causing you to deflate under Satan’s arm. You knew what his look meant without him needing to say it, but because he was Lucifer, he said it anyways, “MC, go find Asmodeus.”

With a sigh, you stepped away from Satan, who was not shy in his disdain at you leaving his side. His eyebrows creased as he glared across the hall at his older brother. “Why don’t you go find him, if you’re so eager to leave. Do something yourself for a change,” he sneered. He almost went as far as to stop you from moving at all, but he thought better of it.

Lucifer’s gaze sharpened, his mouth falling just slightly agape at his young brother’s dissent. The two of them might have started bickering, but they quickly realized it was pointless, as you were already halfway out of the room. Before Lucifer even had a chance to reprimand his younger brother, both of their attention was caught by you waving a dismissive hand over your head. “Don’t bother. I’m a professional at this point,” you grumbled pridefully, your words only slightly slurred.

Perhaps it was how badly your feet were hurting, or maybe you were feeling the liquor more than you previously thought, but either way, you didn’t have the patience to listen to them squabble. They thought well enough to save any words they might’ve had for after you were out of earshot.

You followed the curving corridors of the castle back to the ballroom, where you were unsurprised to find Asmo still attempting to cuddle up to Solomon as he helped clean. On one hand, you were happy to find Asmo so quickly. On the other, you were tired of looking at Solomon.

The latter was apparently more evident, as the sorcerer chuckled as you approached. “I know we’ve been together all evening, but you could look a little happy to see me,” he jeered playfully.

You rolled your eyes before tiredly setting them on Asmo. “We’re going,” you said simply.

He let out a whine of defiance, stepping further behind Solomon. Defeatedly, your eyes traveled back to your fellow human in a silent plea for assistance. His lips fell into a lazy smile that had become quite familiar to you before he gathered a handful of dirty plates and turned, offering them out to Asmo. “If you’re going to stay, you’re obligated to help,” he advised, his smile unmoving.

Asmo took one look at the disastrous dishes and shook his head, stepping away from your friend in disgust. His eyes found yours, and he extended a hand in your direction. “Let’s not keep the others waiting. Goodnight, Solomon,” he quickly excused, wasting no time in tugging you away. You made sure to shoot Solomon a grateful smile over your shoulder as the fifth brother tugged you out into the hall.

When the two of you stepped into the entryway, it was oddly quiet. The silence disappeared as soon as you stepped into the light, as Mammon was suddenly shouting, “Fuckin’ finally!” He pushed himself up from the floor, drunkenly staggering to his feet. He boldly stated, “Le’s go home,” in a futile attempt to lead the march back to the House. He took two steps before his unsteady legs sent him careening into Lucifer, who heaved a deep sigh, but accepted his fate in supporting his younger brother on the walk home.

Satan fell into step alongside you and Asmo, who took his brother’s appearance as a sign of his desire to spend time with him. “Two of my favorite people, right here, just for me!” he drunkenly cheered as he all but collapsed between the two of you.

As you both darted to hold Asmo upright, you shared a look with the blonde haired demon over his brother’s head. His lips fell into an annoyed scowl, but there was amusement dancing in his eyes. You shook your head at him before turning away to keep your own laughter contained. Clumsily, the two of you hurried to follow behind Lucifer, dragging Asmo along as you went.

Unlike Mammon, who regained control of his footing about halfway through your walk back, Asmo remained dependent on you and Satan for the rest of the evening. When the eight of you reached the House of Lamentation, everyone sort of went their own ways. Mammon, Belphie, and Beel peeled off into the kitchen, while Lucifer and Levi both heaved exhausted sighs before excusing themselves for the night.

The idea that some of you actually wanted to go to bed seemed to disgust Asmo, as he flipped an impolite gesture at Lucifer’s retreating form. “Can you believe them? Going to bed so soon?” he scoffed. “I mean really, it’s hardly–“ as he tried to continue his rant, a yawn interrupted his words.

Taking a moment to peer into your friend’s eyes, you found them to be more bloodshot than you initially thought. You cast a gaze over to Satan, who caught it knowingly, seemingly already having made the same observation that you had. He gave you an affirming nod as a silent offer to take responsibility from here. When you stepped back, his lips quirked into a gentle smile, as it always pleased him to see you giving yourself a break.

“Come on, you should get to bed yourself,” Satan insisted, tightening his grip around his brother’s shoulders as he steered him towards the stairs.

Asmo gasped in offense, attempting pathetically to wiggle out of the stronger demon’s grip. “I don’t want to! Although, I suppose if you and MC come, I might be convinced,” he teased flirtatiously, causing Satan to send you a concerned glance over his shoulder.

When you simply giggled at their behavior, Satan rolled his eyes, silently vowing to get an apology out of you later. “You’re going to sleep, Asmo,” Satan pointedly replied. His newfound annoyance had driven him to practically shoving his brother up the stairs, rather than guiding him the way he had been before. The two of them certainly were a sight as they clumsily disappeared up the stairs, Satan’s patience wearing thinner and thinner with every step.

On your way to your own room, you decided to take the long way around in the house in an attempt to avoid any other drunken nuisances. You managed to get there safely, and after heaving a tired sigh, you collected your pajamas and retreated into your bathroom to get ready for bed. You enjoyed your peace and quiet for the majority of your nighttime routine, until you heard the door in the other room swing open while you were brushing your teeth.

“Oi!” Mammon’s voice slurred from your bedroom.

Beel’s voice followed shortly after – much softer, yet carrying a similar inebriation. “MC, we brought you a snack,” he called politely.

You squeezed your eyes shut in annoyance, silently cursing yourself for actually believing you’d be able to escape them. You finished brushing your teeth and spit, shouting that you would be right there, before rinsing your mouth. Trying to scrape together as much alone time as possible, you moved leisurely about your bathroom, wiping down the counter and reorganizing your products.

After doing everything you possibly could to kill time, you finally joined the two demons in the other room, where you were greeted with an amusing sight. Mammon was sprawled sideways across your bed, already snoring softly against your sheets. Beel was sitting on the floor with an empty plate in front of him. You suspected that your “snack” had previously been on said plate, and Beel’s guilty expression validated your assumption.

“Sorry,” he apologized, his cheeks red. “You just took so long.”

With an affectionate sigh, you reassured him, “It’s fine. I already brushed my teeth, anyway.”

Beel’s goofy smiled returned immediately at your spoken forgiveness, though it was quickly wiped away by a yawn. He glanced around the room to find Mammon, and when he did, he frowned. He doled out his best puppy dog eyes as he turned to you. “Is it okay if I sleep here, too?” he asked sweetly.

You both knew that you weren’t going to say no, so by the time you nodded in response, he was already making himself comfortable on the floor. Within the next three minutes that it took for you to finish putting your things away, he was fast asleep.

You had to take a step back to study the scene that had unfolded in front of you. Mammon was crowding the majority of your bed, and Beel was taking up quite a bit of the floor. You quickly acknowledged that there would not be a way for you to sleep comfortably in your own room. Huffing a short sigh, you snagged a blanket and pillow from under Mammon’s legs and stepped out into the corridor.

Yawning gently, you made your way down the hall, deciding that if you couldn’t sleep in your bed, the couch in the library was your second best bet. After how long your evening had been, you certainly didn’t think you had to worry about anyone else being there at that time of night. But the moment you stepped into the doorway, you realized that your assumption was incorrect.

One of the lamps in the corner was flicked on, illuminating a familiar mop of blonde hair curled up in a nearby armchair. Your arrival must have caused a floorboard to creak, as his green eyes quickly discarded the novel in his lap, instead focusing on your silhouette in the doorway. His hands closed the book in front of him, as there was suddenly something much more interesting standing in front of him.

“Sorry,” you quickly gushed after seeing how badly your arrival distracted him. “I didn’t think you were still awake. I didn’t think ANYONE was still awake.” Though you had to admit, if you had to run into anyone, you were glad it was him.

He chuckled, his cheeks dusting with a wash of embarrassment. “Well, after fighting to get Asmo to his room, my temper flared,” he admitted bashfully, “I came here to calm down before bed.” Your head bobbed in an understanding nod. Satan had undeniably come a long way in controlling his wrath since you first met, but the shortness of his temper was something that would never go away.

You had still been hesitating near the doorway, but his comforting demeanor convinced you that you weren’t intruding after all. You crossed the room, seating yourself in the chair across from him. “What are you still doing up?” Satan asked as soon as you settled, an affectionate smile pulling at his lips.

You stifled the urge to roll your eyes as you explained your situation. “Mammon and Beel let themselves into my room while I was brushing my teeth. By the time I was ready to go to sleep, Mammon was taking up my entire bed, and Beel was asleep on the ground,” you told him, unable to help the bit of laughter that breezed through you.

Satan scrunched his nose up at the idea of his brothers making themselves at home in your room. His stomach churned with jealousy for a moment, until he remembered that their presence had driven you to where he was. And whereas you were seemingly uninterested in spending any more time this evening with his brothers, you clearly didn’t mind sitting with him.

After breaking with a small yawn, you returned to explaining your thought process to Satan. “I figured, since I couldn’t sleep in my own bed, this would be my best bet.” You felt your cheeks redden at your own words. Spoken out loud, it did seem a little pathetic for you to be resigning yourself to the couch in the library, rather than forcing the demons out of your room.

“You were going to sleep in here?” Satan repeated inquisitively the first time. His tone wasn’t belittling, instead he sounded genuinely surprised, as though he thought he hadn’t heard you correctly the first time.

When you bashfully nodded, his lips straightened into a frown. His gaze was hot on your face, turning you to the same sheepish mess that his intimate attention always did. Without needing to give it much thought, Satan decided, “Nonsense. You can sleep in my room.”

You were enthused by the idea – so much so, that you wondered if your subconscious had been hoping for the offer all night. Or perhaps even longer. For a moment, you were lost in your own head, trying to recall exactly when your friendly opinion of Satan had changed. Maybe it had never been just friendly to begin with.

Your rampant thoughts caused a silence to unfold in the library, forcing an embarrassed tint to Satan’s cheeks. “You can have my bed, of course. I’ll sleep elsewhere,” he refined.

“No!” you interjected quickly, silently cursing yourself for causing his confidence to waver. It was evident that your objection caught him by surprise. You quickly launched into a gentle explanation, “I just don’t want to burden you, that’s all.”

The affectionate smile that you desperately desired returned as he listened to you speak. “MC, I wouldn’t offer my bed to someone I viewed as a burden,” he reasoned, his tone light.

Immediately, his words had you curious about how many other bodies had been welcomed to his bed, and if your invitation was anything more than a kind gesture. As if sensing your internal conflict, Satan stood from his seat, holding his hands out for you to take. When you hesitated, opting instead to stare admiringly up at him, he chuckled, “Come on, you need some rest.”

Whether it was the look in his eyes or the sweetness in his tone, you weren’t sure, but something about him tugged your strings. Without needing to think about it, you slipped your hands into his, allowing him to pull you to your feet. Now that you were standing, the two of you were a lot closer to one another, a fact that got clearer and clearer the longer you looked at him.

For a moment, he considered saying something. You had a look in your eyes that he saw frequently, yet had never been able to understand. It was timid and vulnerable – two traits that you very rarely encompassed. It only appeared in moments like these, when the two of you were tiptoeing the line of something more. Almost always, your expression lasted mere seconds before you caught yourself, stepping away from the moment before he had time to react.

Satan assumed this time would be no different, and he was proven to be incorrect. You had become restless under the idea of someone other than you in his bed, and now you could feel his breath dancing across your lips. The thought of running hadn’t even crossed your mind. As soon as he realized that you weren’t going anywhere, his gaze softened. That was all it took.

You closed the little space between the two of you, your lips brushing against his in an uncertain show of confidence. It was a quick gesture, hardly classifiable as a kiss at all, but it turned the Avatar of Wrath into a blushing disaster. Your nerves had never been so on edge, yet upon seeing his wide eyes and red cheeks, you couldn’t help but laugh.

One he registered your laughter, Satan’s expression immediately changed. All of his surprise had drained into a sharp gaze, his eyes staring into yours with an undefinable intensity. Your laughter died on your lips and you worried that you had actually overstepped.

Your nerves were hardly allowed time to settle as Satan released your hands from his grip, instead moving to pull your hips closer to his. In mere seconds his lips were on yours again, properly this time, as he kissed you hungrily. Desperate to be as close to him as possible, you wrapped your arms around his neck and stood on your toes, allowing his hands on your waist to angle your body into his.

His hands slid across your body to the small of your back, forcing a soft sigh from your lips. He took the opportunity to draw your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling at your skin with a gentleness entirely uncharacteristic of the Avatar of Wrath. When your grip around him tightened, you felt his smile against your mouth, clearly pleased with himself.

He held your lips heatedly for a few seconds more before pulling away. Once your head stopped spinning, you recognized the smile that was on his lips. The look in his eyes, however, was different. His expression was just as playful as ever, though there was something in the way he looked at you now that wasn’t there before.

“MC, please come burden me by sleeping in my bed,” he teased.

His words made you smile, and you murmured a quiet, “Okay,” before leaning up to brush another brief kiss against his lips. “But only if you don’t sleep elsewhere.”

His fingers tightened on your back, pulling you back into him with little protest on your behalf. By that point, his smile had long since turned into a smirk. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. You should know I won’t be going anywhere now,” he said earnestly. He kissed you again, as though to prove a point that neither of you needed proven.

You melted in his arms as he held you close, and then followed blindly as he led you down the hall to his room. You may have had power over him through your pact, but when it came down to it, you were putty in his hands. You were lucky enough that he didn’t seem to know how much power he held over you, but you didn’t think it would you’d be able to hide it much longer.

It wasn’t long until you were beneath Satan’s sheets, wrapped tightly in his arms. He held you close to his chest, his fingers rubbing circles on your hips and thighs, your bodies fitting together as though they were made for another. Sleep crept into the back of your mind, but you fought against it just a little longer. You wanted to enjoy this moment with him.

When you felt the heaving of his chest lull, you wondered if he had already fallen asleep. “Satan?” you whispered against the dark room.

Your question was met with a quiet, “Hmm?” from the half-asleep demon. Hearing your voice prompted him to absentmindedly tighten his hold on you.

You paused for a moment, listening to his soft breathing. All of a sudden, every feeling you had for him was bubbling to the surface. You wanted him to know how deeply you cared for him, how desperately you had been waiting to hold him like this. He deserved so much love that nobody has ever shown him, and you needed him to know that you wanted to change that.

“There are so many things I want to tell you,” you whispered, more for your own benefit than for his ears. By that point, you figured he had fully succumbed to sleep, anyway.

To your surprise, he shifted, turning to bury his face against the curve of your neck. “I want to hear them all,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. His mouth brushed the skin at the base of your neck, the first contact in a trail of kisses leading up to your jaw. As he pressed a kissed underneath your ear, he whispered, “I want to hear anything you want to say.”

You couldn’t help but arch beneath his kisses, your chin inadvertently tilting towards his. Your noses bumped, and he seized the opportunity to drag a lazy kiss against your lips. You kissed him back, mumbling, “I want to do this forever,” against his mouth.

Moving one of his hands up your body to cup your face, Satan pulled your lips back to his, kissing you with an intensity similar to his attitude in the library. “However long you want me, darling,” he whispered once he finally deigned to pull back from your lips. “You already know that I’m yours.”

#obey me! shall we date?#shall we date? obey me #obey me otome #obey me #shall we date? obey me satan #obey me satan #obey me / reader #satan obey me #obey me oneshot #obey me ficlet

21 notes · View notes

riiwriting · 1 year

Text

angry blonde boy oneshot up next

#satan obey me #obey me otome #obey me! shall we date?

2 notes · View notes

riiwriting · 1 year

Text

( remake of a very old post - needed a break from homework )

meet the blogger : 1/? ; my favorite musicians

#mac miller #the weeknd #hozier #lorde #kali uchis #lana del rey #noah kahan #quinn xcii #larry june

4 notes · View notes

riiwriting · 1 year

Text

Eye of the Storm | Leviathan (Obey Me)

summary : ever since your arrival in the Devildom, quiet moments have been few and far between. everybody seems to be going and doing constantly, and they didn’t really leave you with much time to unwind. Levi was the exception.

warnings : none (:

leviathan x mc - gn (no pronouns)

note : im not crazy proud of this one but whatever works !

You had grown to appreciate days like this. With everyone else, it always seemed like you had to be doing something. You had to go out to eat, or you had to go along to the store, or you had to try this new perfume. It was growing increasingly rare for you to find time to just sit and be.

That’s why you never minded when Levi invited you over, but didn’t offer you a turn to play whatever game he was enthralled in. He was a creature of habit, and certainly wasn’t going to change his gaming routine for you, regardless of how much he desired your company. That might have bothered you at first, but you quickly realized that relaxing in Levi’s bed while he sat up next to you, eyes focused on his tv screen, was exactly the break you needed from your constant running around.

It had been a huge step up when he finally let you sit in his bed with him, and then it was an even bigger step when he began cuddling up to you, his legs crossed over yours without even realizing it. He liked how perfectly you fit into his space, and how content you seemed to be just laying in his company. He would never understand how it was possible for you to enjoy someone like him, but he would never turn his nose up at your affection.

This particular time, you brought something for yourself while Levi attempted to complete the true ending of a new visual novel that had just dropped. You stretched your legs out in front of you as you slouched back against the wall of his bed, your nose buried in a book you had borrowed from Satan. You were vaguely aware every time Levi swore at himself for choosing a wrong answer, but his little outbursts didn’t faze you very much anymore.

You had made a few chapters of progress when Levi let out a more significant groan of annoyance that managed to fully catch your attention. When you glanced up at him over the top of your book, he was pausing his game and casting his controller aside in annoyance. You waited for a moment to see if he was going to immediately pick it back up and try again, as he did often.

When he didn’t seem to intend on doing anything other than sitting and pouting, you closed your book. Sensing your movement, Levi glanced sheepishly over at you. For a moment, he almost forgot you were there, and now he was embarrassed that he had made such a scene.

While you could clearly sense his embarrassment, you didn’t let on like you had. Instead, you asked, “Oh, are you taking a break?”

He blinked a few times, apparently surprised at you acting as though you hadn’t seen his burst of outrage. He brought the back of his sleeve to wipe habitually across the bottom of his face, before dropping his hands back to his lap. He planned on answering, but all he managed was a nod.

You smiled. “Cool,” you announced, before tossing your book onto the floor a little ways away. His expression shifted with confusion, and you decided to abandon your coy act. You lazily extended your arms in an invitation for him to come closer. “Will you come here?” you asked sweetly.

His face was so red you thought he might have burst a blood vessel, and he hesitated to collect himself before moving closer to you. You waited patiently as he anxiously planned out his movements, and then did his best to discreetly get comfortable against you. He had to adjust a time or two before he forced himself to stay still.

Eventually, he found a comfortable spot with his head resting against the plane of your stomach, his arm thrown loosely across your waist. His fingers danced delicately across an exposed stretch of your skin. He still touched you like you were made of glass, as though one move too far would cause this delicate bond you shared to shatter.

When your fingers began to comb through his hair, he became more sure of himself, holding you tighter as he drew circles against your skin. You felt all the lingering frustration leave his body as he melted against you. With a small smile, you asked, “Feel better?”

Unfazed by the realization that you had known he was in a bad mood all along, Levi sighed a small, “Mhm” in response. His breath was warm against your skin as he quietly spoke. “I like it when you’re here,” he murmured, hardly above a whisper.

Your heart might have exploded right then and there. You managed to keep it together, fighting the sudden urge to pull him into your arms and never let go. “I like being here,” you eventually replied.

He jumped a little at your words, apparently not expecting you to say anything at all, much less return his affection. He raised his head from your stomach, propping himself up with one hand. The other lingered shyly near the underside of your knee, his fingers flirting with the idea of resting against your thigh.

For a moment, you thought he might actually kiss you, but then his lips parted in a frown, and you knew what was coming before he even said it. “I hate when you do that,” he was muttering, his hand abandoning its pursuit up your leg as he shied away from you. “You always do things like this, and give me this stupid hope that someone like you could actually like a shut-in like me,” he grumbled.

Usually, you’d take a softer approach to this sort of outburst. His self-depreciation was something you unfortunately had to grow accustomed to, as his lack of confidence and cardinal sin did not play nicely together. This time, however, you lacked the patience to talk him down.

Moving gently, so as to not actually scare him away, you placed your fingers beneath his chin and tilted his head closer to yours. You paused for a moment to decide your next move, but your thoughts were quickly derailed by the wide orange eyes that were silently begging you to prove them wrong. All of a sudden, you knew that words could wait. You moved your hand from Levi’s jaw to the nape of his neck, eagerly pulling his lips to yours.

Though he had been anticipating it, he completely froze for the few seconds that you kissed him, until your thumb brushed against the base of his jawline and brought him back to reality. You felt his hand shyly return to your leg as he took control over the kiss, and then it wasn’t long before it had moved to your waist. His fingers buried themselves in your side, the fabric of your shorts bunching up at your waistline as he pulled your body flush against his.

You smiled against his lips when his nose clumsily bumped against yours, and when his grip on your side promptly loosened out of embarrassment, you moved your hand over his. With your palm pressed against the back of his hand, you laced your fingers with his. You could tell your silent encouragement was well-received by the quiet groan in the back of his throat.

When you released his hand and broke away from his lips, his head immediately fell to your shoulder. He rested his face against your neck as his arms coiled around you, holding you close. Your fingers once more returned to his hair, and as you pulled at a small knot, you mused, “I do like you, Levi.”

Levi didn’t say anything in response, instead opting to hold you tighter out of fear of saying the wrong thing. You didn’t mind his quietness. How he felt was obvious from the way he held you, and his hesitance to let you go.

You didn’t think he’d believe you if you told him how much peace being with him brought you. Every day since your arrival in the Devildom had been a new storm of events and chaos. Between keeping up with everyone and keeping up with your schoolwork, you didn’t get breaks very often. Moments with Levi (excluding that time he tried to kill you) had become the only time you spent in the eye of the storm.

#obey me! shall we date?#shall we date? obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #leviathan / main character #obey me otome #obey me oneshot #obey me / reader #leviathan x reader #obey me fluff #obey me blog

94 notes · View notes

riiwriting · 1 year

Text

A Second Ride on the Ferris Wheel | Lucifer (Obey Me)

summary : 26-7 rewrite! a ferris wheel ride with a very whipped Lucifer.

warnings : spoilers for chapter 25 & 26,

lucifer x mc - gn (no pronouns used)

note : i used some of the original dialogue, and some that i changed up a little bit :) very much one of my favorite luci moments

As far as “dates” in the Devildom had gone, getting glued to Mammon and promptly exploring a traveling carnival hadn’t been the worst – regardless of how things appeared to be wrapping up. You were actually quite entertained watching as Lord Diavolo dragged your partner in crime away for interrogation, choosing to be grateful that nobody seemed to be projecting any suspicion in your direction.

A laugh even escaped your lips as Number 2 scampered alongside the demon lord, teasing Mammon as they went. A similar, yet significantly deeper chuckle reminded you that someone had stayed behind with you.

Turning to your left, you peered up at Lucifer, the remnants of your humor just beginning to settle back into your resting expression. When he met your gaze, you felt the need to raise your hands innocently. “I knew nothing about an illegal casino,” you testified.

Lucifer only smirked in amusement. “Oh, I have no doubt that you unknowingly got caught up in another of Mammon’s schemes,” he said, seemingly assuring that you were off the hook. Though, after a moment of hesitation, he made a point to add, “again.”

With an honest smile, you said, “Would you believe me if I told you that he was actually trying to keep everyone else on track?”

Narrowing his eyes to peer at something over your head, Lucifer firmly responded, “No.” Your attempt at defending his younger brother ended there.

A silence hung in the air for a second as you fidgeted, wondering if you were reading Lucifer wrong, and he really was upset with you. Before your anxieties got a chance to settle, Lucifer quickly proposed you join him for a ferris wheel ride. Eager to not be standing around like a kicked puppy, and never one to turn down a rare moment with the eldest brother, you nodded and followed him across the fairgrounds.

The cart that the ride attendant ushered the two of you into felt a lot more snug than the one you shared with Mammon, but neither of you voiced any discomfort at the proximity. Lucifer actually seemed to relax into his booth across from you, his broad shoulders slumping back against the inside of the safety railing. You allowed your own tensions to ease, the insides of your knees nestling comfortably against his.

Though his disposition seemed calm, once you got a closer look at his beautiful features, you noticed the trouble that clouded them. You wanted to ask what was on his mind, but he posed a question of his own before you got the chance. “Seems like you were having quite a good time with Mammon,” he mused, his eyes burning into you, “You say you came here looking for Diavolo and me, but perhaps you two were just enjoying the carnival instead?”

His question caught you a little by surprise, but then again, it wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary. They all seemed to get a bit sensitive about Mammon taking up so much of your time, but as of recently, Lucifer had been showing a particular amount of angst towards your friendship.

While you knew he would only flex his pride, you humored him anyway. “I don’t suppose this is you being jealous, is it?” you asked, nudging his thigh with your knee.

His eyebrows immediately raised, only to quickly flatten back into a nonchalant smolder. “You think I’m jealous? Of Mammon? Don’t be ridiculous,” he said with a small huff.

You tilted your head, allowing your expression to expose your disbelief. Noting your teasing gaze, Lucifer pressed back against your leg with his own. He held your attention sternly for a moment before suggesting, “Regardless of who else you might spend time with, you’re still mine.”

There was a beat, and then, “Isn’t that right?”

It was a rhetorical question, because his pride was presenting itself as a show of confidence that you were exactly that – his. The look on his face was insistent that he knew he had you wrapped around his finger.

But you saw the brief flicker in his eyes, and you knew him far better than he seemed to think. You knew, despite his unwavering ego, he held the same uncertainty that all of his brothers did. He needed you to be fully his, and while your pact might have made that a technical reality, he wanted all of you – and he needed to know if you were going to make him share.

Still, you nodded under his confident expression, a sweet smile curving onto your lips. When the clouded glaze didn’t clear from his expression, you acknowledged that his current unease had nothing to do with you.

So, in return to his question, you asked, “Will you tell me what’s bothering you?”

He examined your concerned expression for a moment before breathing a sigh. “Ever since you and Diavolo arrived to the student council meeting together the other day, there’s been something off about him.”

Noting your knitted brows, he explained, “At first glance, he seems to be his usual self. But something’s… off.”

Suddenly, you recalled staring at a lost-looking Diavolo standing in the center of the colosseum, mumbling something to himself about years past and possible regrets.

Your expression must have shifted, as Lucifer was suddenly asking, “Do you know anything about why this may be, MC?”

You thought your response over carefully. You had your suspicions about where Diavolo’s mind was, and you felt somewhat honored that he trusted you enough to let his guard falter around you. Regardless of how close you knew he and Lucifer were, it didn’t feel right to be airing out his personal troubles.

“I think he could use a friend,” you mused, suddenly finding it a little difficult to meet Lucifer’s intent eyes. When his brow raised, you continued, “I wouldn’t suggest pressing him on the subject, but I think he would appreciate someone else checking up on him for a change.”

Lucifer found himself very seriously listening to and retaining your advice. If there was one person in any of the three realms whose wisdom he valued, it was yours. He wanted to laugh. When it came to you, he always seemed to surprised himself.

“Thank you, MC. If you think that he needs support, then… I’ll speak to him directly,” he politely responded.

There was a moment of silence during which he stared earnestly down on you. His body had subconsciously shifted closer to the middle of the ride car, and thus leaning further against you. Affection glistened in his scarlet eyes for a moment before he seemed to catch himself. “I never thought I’d see the day that I’d be thanking a human. To think…” he trailed off, his expression faltering as he lost his focus in thought.

You felt a smile grow on your lips. You would never tire of the moments in which he allowed himself to display his affection for you. They were rare, but that’s what made them so special.

“I hope you know how honored I am that you value my advice,” you murmured earnestly. Your fingertips grazed comfortingly against the outside of his thigh, a movement that he quickly responded to by pressing up against your hand. He wasn’t usually one to value stray touches, but he seemed to be unusually antsy to be close to you.

You watched as his face grew red at your words, and for a moment, he turned away from facing you. When you regained his attention, he was holding back an ironic laugh. “I can only imagine what my brothers would say if they knew,” he joked, his tone somewhat deflective.

You wanted to tease him again for being jealous, but you also hated the fact that his brothers always seemed to come up in conversation when the two of you were together. You loved them all dearly, but there was nothing that killed Lucifer’s mood more than discussion of his brothers. You knew that, and he knew that, so why it always seemed to be a topic of conversation, you couldn’t figure out.

Intent on convincing Lucifer that you were focused on only him – and to get him to focus on you – you abandoned your innocent nudging and planted your hand on his thigh. He was already leaning towards you when your other hand rose to his chest, your fingers fastening around his tie. With a light tug, you directed his lips to yours.

Lucifer immediately caved into you, his hands running up the slope of your body until they were gently pressed against the bottom of your jawline. He kissed you deeply, until the ferris wheel began to turn again, leaving you one stop above the end of your ride.

You stared breathlessly at Lucifer, your lips swollen and pouted as you fought the urge to pull him in again. You settled for appreciating the flush to his cheeks and the light in his eyes. “I hate to admit how badly I needed you to do that,” he relinquished.

With a smile, you stretched to press a soft kiss against his cheek. While you maintained your renewed closeness, you murmured, “All you ever have to do is ask.”

You knew that was asking a lot of the Avatar of Pride, but you also knew that when he wanted to, he would. And for a moment, you figured his cool demeanor would return, and he would laugh off what had been a genuine comment.

But instead, he turned his chin towards you, his lips finding a home gracefully at the corner of your mouth. He didn’t say anything else as the two of you stepped down out of the ride cart, his arms around your waist under the guise of helping you keep your balance.

You made it about ten steps from the ferris wheel before his stride faltered, and suddenly you were being pulled backwards against his chest. When you turned in his arms in an attempt to get a good look at him, he was already looking down at you with an endearing expression.

Before you even had to ask what he was thinking, he made his intentions very clear. “I think we should go again. I need at least a few more moments of having you to myself,” he hummed, his fingers kneading enticingly at your hips.

You nodded, and though there was no possible way that you could say no to a request like that, Lucifer moved quickly so as to not give you a chance to change your mind. His hand held tightly to yours as he steered you back in the direction you had come. Your thumb brushed against his wrist, and you felt his pulse beneath his skin as his heart thumped peacefully. He only seemed to feel at ease around you.

#obey me! shall we date?#obey me lucifer #obey me #shall we date? obey me #obey me otome #obey me lucifer / reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me / reader #lucifer / main character #obey me oneshot #obey me drabble

122 notes · View notes

riiwriting · 1 year

Text

i know my blog is still recovering so i don’t expect any traction from this but my oneshot / headcanons requests are open!! pls submit any requests to my inbox (:

#read FAQ first tho pls & ty babes #shut up riley

0 notes

riiwriting · 1 year

Text

Pastry Possibilities | Barbatos (Obey Me)

Summary - After months of living in the Devildom, there were some things that you just accepted as a part of life, such as it being impossible to steal a moment of the royal butler's time.

Notes - First time I've ever written anything for this fandom. I don't have any idea why Barbatos is who came to mind first, but whatever works.

Warnings - N/A

Pronouns - GN (no pronouns used at all)

It didn’t take long at all for you to understand the unspoken routines of the Devildom. There were some things you just simply didn’t ask about, like Satan’s opinion on Lucifer, or that time that Levi summoned Lotan. And then there were some things that everybody simply just accepted as parts of life; no matter how seemingly unfair or odd to you they were.

Honestly, the longer you stayed there, the more that those kinds of things began to arise. You had to grown into understanding Lucifer and Satan’s relationship, just as it took time for you to understand why Mammon chose only to be a decent person when it came to you or his younger brothers. But there were also things that were quite apparent to you from day one, like the fact that it was eternally night, or Barbatos’s unwavering devotion to Lord Diavolo.

The latter, of course, made the most sense out of any of them. When you were introduced to the teal-haired demon, Lord Diavolo seemed to almost make a point to add his title of “butler.” Though you felt it to be a bit condescending, Barbatos had seemed to take pride in his position at the young lord’s side. To each their own, you supposed.

However, as your stay in the Devildom extended, this simple fact of existence seemed to bother you more and more. Something about the butler had caught your intrigue, and though you couldn’t quite figure out what it was, it created an ache in the pit of your stomach.

You knew everyone else. You knew what made the brothers tick, just as you knew what Luke and Simeon’s favorite desserts were. Hell, you had even come to know Lord Diavolo himself quite well, thanks to a desperate need for a breath of fresh air during the exchange retreat, and his willingness to accompany you.

There had been virtually no opportunities to really converse with Barbatos. In the few that there were, Diavolo was always present —and if he wasn’t, Mammon was. You learned very quickly that if you wanted a chance to actually talk to the butler, you’d have to create the situation yourself.

That was when you decided to pick baking back up as a hobby. You were quite familiar with a collection of human-world pastry recipes, but it had admittedly been a few years before you spent much time in front of an oven. Partially out of fear of embarrassing yourself in front of the brothers (though mostly due to a desire for peace and quiet), you asked Simeon if they would mind sharing the Purgatory Hall kitchen with you.

“Of course not! You know you’re more than welcome at Purgatory Hall for any reason,” Simeon said, a bright smile on his face.

You returned his smile in full. “Thank you,” you beamed gratefully. “I know this sounds silly, but it’s been a while since I’ve tried to bake anything. If anyone is going to have to tell me that my cookies taste like ass, I’d prefer it be you.”

Simeon laughed, “Well, I’ve never known you to be bad at anything, so I’m sure they’ll be quite fine. I do have to ask though, is there a reason why you’re deciding to pick an apron up all of a sudden?”

Though you knew there was quite literally no way Simeon could REALLY know your intentions, the mischievous glint in his eye made you shift your feet. He always seemed to know when you had some kind of plot, regardless of how hard you tried to disguise it. You had been foolish to think that this time would be any different.

“Oh, nothing in particular,” you lied seamlessly, hoping that Simeon didn’t catch the way you wiped your sweaty palm on the bottom of your RAD uniform jacket. You thought up a new line of reasoning as quickly as possible. “I just feel like my entire personality down here has revolved around Lucifer and his brothers. I miss doing things just for myself.”

Your heart panged at your own words as you realized how true they were. Though a conscious awakening wasn’t exactly what you was going for, it apparently placated Simeon’s curiosities, as he tapped his chin and nodded thoughtfully along with your words. “Well, that’s certainly understandable. I’ll say again, any time you need somewhere to go, you’re welcome at Putgatory Hall.”

You thanked him again before giving your friend a tight hug and announcing you’d stop by a little while after school. Simeon simply nodded and agreed to your plans before the two of you parted ways.

You turned away from Simeon and nearly right into Lucifer, who was eyeing you with suspicious curiosity. You jumped a bit at the sight of him, before letting out a small sigh. “Geez, Lucifer, haven’t you learned in the hundreds of years you’ve been alive not to sneak up on people like that?”

“I was simply standing here,” he noted stoically. “You were just in a hurry and didn’t watch where you were going.”

You felt your face burn under his gaze. Maybe he had a point. Breathing another sigh, you apologized, “Okay, I’m sorry. I just realized I had been talking to Simeon for longer than I anticipated, and I didn’t want to be late to class.”

Lucifer drew out a short, disbelieving, “I see,” before an uncomfortable silence hung in the air. When it became painfully clear that you didn’t know what he was expecting of you, he asked, “I presumed you and Simeon were making plans of some sort?”

“Oh!” you said in surprise, having been expecting some sort of reprimand, as Lucifer seemed to love handing those out when they weren’t warranted. “Well, I suppose. I asked if I could bake cookies at Purgatory Hall later tonight.”

One of Lucifer’s eyebrows rose. “Is there a reason you can’t use the House of Lamentation’s kitchen?” he asked, somewhat offended.

You quickly shook your head. “Of course not! I just figured I could use Luke and Simeon’s help. It’s been a while since I baked anything.”

Lucifer didn’t appear convinced, though you supposed his expression always carried some sort of suspicion, but he didn’t press you any further. Instead, he said, “You’d be better off asking Barbatos for help.”

A lump formed in your throat. You wanted to tell him he was an idiot, and ask him how exactly he thought you would be able to simply steal Barbatos’ attention from Diavolo. However, the last thing you needed to do was actually give Lucifer a reason to punish you, so you simply waved a passive hand. “Oh, he’s too busy for that.”

Lucifer shrugged, though apparently seemed to agree with what you said. “In that case, if your cookies turn out to be palatable, you should take some to the castle. I’m sure Diavolo would appreciate you sharing human culture with him, and Barbatos might be able to offer you feedback.”

You had to fight to keep yourself from bouncing on your feet, a sudden anxious rush running through you. You jumped at the opportunity your friend – used loosely – laid in front of you. “That’s a nice idea, thank you. Would you do me a favor, then, and tell Diavolo about it the next to you see him? That way a visit wouldn’t be completely unexpected.”

Your thoughtfulness seemed to impress Lucifer, who allowed his lips to quirk into the faintest of smiles. Just as quickly as it had come, the expression disappeared. The demon gave a curt nod, “I’ll let them know.“

Though you felt the conversation had ended, Lucifer lingered in front of you. You then realized the one thing you had forgotten to cover. “And of course I’ll bring some back to the house for you guys,” you promised.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, acting as if he hadn’t been waiting all this time for you to confirm exactly that. “I would expect you to bring some to me, at least, considering we’ve had this conversation. Thought I don’t think Beel would forgive you if he found out you didn’t save any for him,” he teased.

All of a sudden your little cookie experiment was turning into a bake sale, but you couldn’t do much other than nod and escape from the hallway. Once you reached your next class, you retrieved your D.D.D from your bag to text Luke about the situation. Your tension eased when he responded enthusiastically, saying he would help however you needed him to, and that he couldn’t wait to hang out with you.

Tossing your device back into your bag, you relaxed in your seat and decided to be optimistic. Lucifer and Simeon both had been more helpful than you anticipated. While part of you almost wanted to thank them, you thought you might die of embarrassment if anyone found out how desperately you were trying to retrieve Barbatos’ attention.

You still hadn’t figured out what it was that drew you to him. You were half-convinced that it was simply the mystery of it all – that you just couldn’t stand not knowing everything. However, the more you felt butterflies arise at the thought of the demon butler, the more you lost faith in your innocent act.

You were drawn to Barbatos the same way that everyone else seemed to be drawn to you. And while quite literally anyone else would have been an easier route for your heart to take, you had begun noticing your brain circling back to him.

You genuinely hoped that once you got a chance to see a bit of his true character, that sensation would fade. Maybe then you could actually get on with your life.

“There we go!” You declared with a slight wince as you tossed the last pan of cookies onto the kitchen counter. Simeon and Luke, who were each sitting at the kitchen table, munching on cookies from your first batch, gave you a small round of applause at hearing you were finally done, 7 trays later.

Luke smiled happily from around his cookie, crumbs falling from the corner of his mouth. “These are really good MC! You didn’t need our help at all,” he said happily.

Simeon nodded at his sentiment. “You’re very right Luke. Though I’m definitely not complaining about getting first dibs over Beel.”

You felt your cheeks redden at their compliments. Dipping your chin to focus on removing the cookies from the tray to a plate, you responded to their praise, “Well, I’m glad that they taste okay.” It was one of the most basic cookie recipes you could remember, so you didn’t think you’d forgive yourself if you messed them up.

After finishing his cookie, Simeon joined you at the counter, watching curiously as you distributed the cookies evenly between a few different plates. Feeling his gaze, you look up at him. “Do you guys have notecards? And a marker?” you asked politely.

With a small nod, Simeon disappeared up to his room, returning moments later with exactly what you had asked for. You thanked him, before scrawling everyone’s names on individual notecards. This would at least help you remember who you had already given some to.

Simeon continued to watch your actions, laughing quietly when you tucked the card with Beel’s name onto the fullest plate. You then decided to make two plates for the house in general, hoping that with Beel removed from the equation, no fighting would ensue.

Of course, to save your own ass, you separated a few and bundled them up in parchment paper, attaching a notecard with Lucifer’s name to the top. You didn’t bother labeling Purgatory Hall’s cookies, as you would just leave them here.

You seemed to hesitate at the last plate, debating whether it was improper to write Diavolo and Barbatos’ names, or if you should simply address the castle, or possibly just Diavolo. You wanted Barbatos to know that you had him in mind, but you also didn’t want to break some unbeknownst to you status quo.

Simeon noticed your hesitance, and asked, “You aren’t taking any to the castle?”

Your head snapped up, directly meeting your friend’s blue eyes. Your face reddened, “I am. I just didn’t know the proper way to address them.”

A humored smile spread onto Simeon’s lips. “I’m sure Diavolo will be pleased regardless of what the label says,” he placated.

You bit the inside of your cheek, wondering if asking a simple question would give away your intentions too much. After a short study of Simeon’s expression, you figured if there was anyone you didn’t mind knowing your thoughts, it was him and Luke.

“You don’t think it’s improper to address them to both him and Barbatos, do you?” You asked, glancing up at the taller angel through your eyelashes.

Simeon was quick to shake his head, “Not at all. I’m under the impression that Diavolo sees Barbatos as more of a very helpful friend than a servant. And I’m sure Barbatos would love the idea of someone baking something for him for a change.”

You let his words sit in the air for a moment, your eyes focused on what was left of the cookies in front of you. With a small frown on your lips, you divided what you had left between two plates rather than one, making individual labels for each.

Once you had tucked both of the cards into their proper places, you looked back up at Simeon. “Do you mind if I run to the castle and then swing back by on my way home?” you asked. It was a shorter walk to the castle from there, and you were mildly afraid of questioning from both Mammon and Beel if they noticed you had sweets for other people.

Simeon and Luke both announced that they wouldn’t mind your coming and going at all, though with a knowing look, Simeon asked if you wished for him to accompany you to calm your nerves. You shook your head, knowing that as much as you would enjoy his company, it would defeat the whole purpose of your cookie scheme.

After short promises of being right back to retrieve the rest of your pastries, you stacked the two plates of cookies in your arms and headed out into the stuffy evening air. You tried not to let your nerves bubble to the surface on your walk, but the moment the castle’s grand doors were in front of you, you had to take a second to collect yourself. After swallowing your pride, you knocked on the door.

Momentarily, the door was pulled open, revealing a pleasant-looking Barbatos. “MC,” he greeted with a warm smile, “My Lord was just asking if I had seen you yet this afternoon.”

You returned his smile gently, anxious butterflies bouncing around your stomach. “Well, I apologize for keeping you both in anticipation. I suppose I didn’t think about how many cookies I had to make for everyone, and how long it would take.”

A knowing look shone in the butler’s eyes, and he gave a thoughtful nod before stepping aside and inviting you in. You shifted anxiously on your feet as you stood in the entryway of the Demon Lord’s castle.

“Give me one moment, I’ll go retrieve Lord Diavolo,” Barbatos announced quickly.

Before you could think better of it, you stretched a hand in his direction to stop him. Fingertips grazing his jacket sleeve, your face burned when he turned to you with an unreadable look. You swallowed the lump in your throat, “Before you do, I just wanted to give you these, is all.”

You handed the butler the bottom plate of cookies, watching meekly as his eyes drifted across his name scrawled in your handwriting. His expression seemed to change, but when he looked over at you, his eyes still seemed to hold their normal humored curiosity. Clearing your throat, you explained, “They’re nothing special, but I figured it would be nice to eat something you didn’t have to make for a change.”

This time, you were certain that his expression changed, as his mouth quirked into a tiny smile. You had grown accustomed to the polite smiles he sent you while you conversed with Lucifer or Diavolo, but you had to admit that it was nice to be the reason for even the tiniest bit of his contentment.

However, when he didn’t say anything for a prolonged moment, your anxiety worked double time. “Sorry, I’m know you’re used to higher quality sweets, but–“

“I’m sure these will be wonderful,” Barbatos spoke thoughtfully, his words silencing your rambling. When you met his gaze again, his smile had grown, most likely to put you at ease. You allowed yourself to return his smile, and relished in the way his cheeks dusted with a shade of pink. “Thank you, MC. It’s admittedly been a while since I received any sort of gift for myself.”

Your heart thumped against your rib cage as you successfully fought the urge to tell him that he was the sole reason behind you getting in the kitchen in the first place. You instead settled for, “I figured as much, which is why I wanted to make sure to bring you your own.”

You watched as the butler’s chin tilted away from you, undeniably hiding a flustered expression. His reaction made your chest swell with pride, even as he hurriedly excused himself to go retrieve Diavolo.

When the young lord arrived in the entryway to greet you, Barbatos was notably absent from his side. You chose not to inquire, but Diavolo seemed to notice your gaze traveling around the room, and voiced an internal thought. “I admit, I’m not sure where Barbatos disappeared to,” he said with a small frown. After a moment of studying your demeanor, his expression melted into a curious smile. “Though I will say he was quite red in the face while letting me know of your arrival.”

Your intention had certainly not been to fluster him – in fact, you didn’t think that was possible – but you took that as a sign that maybe you were getting somewhere.

“It’s later than I anticipated, but I know Lucifer told you I’d be by, and I didn’t want to disappoint,” you explained as you handed the red-haired demon the remaining plate of cookies.

Diavolo let out a deep laugh, “You have yet to disappoint in any way, MC.” He paused for a moment as his eyes drifted over the parchment covered plate. Seeing the notecard with his name, his expression faltered, “I don’t mean to question your thought process, but I don’t suppose you’d mind if I shared with Barbatos?”

You felt yourself smile at his consideration, and supposed Simeon had a point about the two of them being friends. “You can share with anyone you’d like! Though I have already given Barbatos a plate for himself.”

Immediately upon hearing your words, Diavolo’s goofy smile returned. Things apparently seemed to click into place, as he let out an understanding, “Ah.” After a moment of suggestive silence, he declared, “Well, I’ll have to have him invite you over to use the kitchen here sometime. I’m sure the two of you would work quite well together.”

You felt your face flush once more as you smiled at the offer. “Well, I’d certainly appreciate the opportunity,” you responded politely. There was a glint in Diavolo’s eyes that told you he had you entirely figured out, but you excused yourself before giving him the chance to say much else.

Diavolo himself saw you out, thanking you again at the door. When you asked him to tell Barbatos you said goodbye, he all but smirked, promising to pass the sentiment along.

#shall we date? obey me #obey me otome #obey me #om! shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me barbatos #barbatos #obey me / reader #obey me imagine #obey me oneshot #obey me drabbles #obey me blog #obey me!

23 notes · View notes

riiwriting · 1 year

Text

Account FAQs

What Do I Post?

Writing!! Headcanons, oneshots, and drabbles about fictional people. I also occasionally post visuals like moodboards and social media au’s upon request / inspiration.

What Fandoms Do I Post?

There are a lot, and I WILL forget some, but here’s what I can think of.

Video Games

Stardew Valley

Potion Permit

Obey Me! SWD otome

Wylde Flowers

My Time at Portia

Coral Island

Detroit: Become Human

Movie / Book Franchises

Marvel / Disney (excluding Star Wars)

DC Comics (excluding Ezra Miller’s Flash)

Grishaverse (Six of Crows / Shadow and Bone)

80s / 90s movies

Bridgerton

Young Justice

That 70s Show

The Office

Community

Umbrella Academy

What Will I NOT Write?

(TW!) Here’s a short list of things that will get deleted / edited out of requests if they are sent to me :

ANY non-con / sexual violence / ambiguous consent

Gore / Extreme Violence

Stalking / Obsession (including Yandere au’s)

Characters canonically younger than 18 years old (i am an adult so i will only write for adult characters)

Manipulation / Emotional abuse other than for backstory purposes

Any kind of romanticization of abuse or mental illness

Request Standards

All requests can be sent to my inbox at any time! Unless stated otherwise in my bio, feel free to assume that requests are open at all times.

Requests can / should include the character you want written, preferred reader pronouns, a basic plot summary or dialogue or song prompt, and anything else you feel is important.

Keep in mind I will not be able to (or want to) write every request I receive. Thank you for your kindness and patience.

Any other questions may be sent via direct messages or through my ask inbox <3

#stardew valley #potion permit #obey me otome #shall we date? obey me #wylde flowers #detroit: become human #dbh #marvel #the office #dc comics #community #grishaverse

1 note · View note

riiwriting · 1 year

Text

Teenage Dirtbag | Sebastian (Stardew Valley)

cross-posted from my wattpad

prompt - in which the farmer's big move isn't necessarily entirely their choice, but they've made peace with it.

warnings - canon divergence

gender-neutral farmer (they/them pronouns used)

⦿ pelican town, winter year 1

IT HAD BEEN ALMOST A FULL YEAR SINCE I MOVED. This was a fleeting thought, one that hint me suddenly before being dismissed as not a big deal. I didn't really think about it again until Robin brought it up one day while I was there to talk to her about building a stable.

"I have to say, what you've done with that farm is really impressive. I know it wasn't necessarily your choice of life, but you've gotta admit you've done a lot in under a year, Farmer," she complimented sincerely. I knew that she meant it, and that she was probably right, but I had to bite my tongue from verbally refusing her praise.

I instead just offered a tight-lipped smile, and chose the only out I could think of. "A year already. That's crazy." I did my best to seem amazed, but my acting admittedly wasn't great. I'm sure Robin knew exactly what I was doing in avoiding the conversation. She let it rest though, and for that I would always be grateful.

We finished discussing the payment and materials for the stable and I bid her farewell, zipping my coat back up to my nose as I headed for the snow outside.

"Be careful out there, please," Robin hurriedly called just as I was reaching the front door. She caught me a bit by surprise, and when I turned to look at her, I'm sure my eyes betrayed that fact. Her face reddened, "I know you take the mountain path, and it gets extra icy up there."

Before I could say anything to wave off her concerns, another head appeared around the corner. Sebastian had apparently decided to come up from his room for the day, and upon hearing his mother talking, was curious to see who was in the entryway.

Our eyes met, and out of courtesy, I gave a small wave. It took him a moment to process, but he sent me a groggy half-smile in return. We admittedly didn't know each other well – not that I knew anyone in town well, really – but I did seem to always run into him when I came to visit his mom. We didn't really talk when we did see each other, partially because he seems to hate people, and partially because I don't know how to talk to people my own age.

I cleared my throat, quickly turning my attention from Sebastian to Robin. "I'll walk through town," I reassured her. I knew that I would most likely change my mind and take my usual route the minute she was out of sight, but sometimes white lies are okay if they help people sleep at night.

"You can walk with Sebastian, then," Robin hastily offered up, alarming both myself and her son.

Sebastian's eyebrows flew upwards. "They can?" he asked, his face blank. He had just rolled out of bed. Obviously, he was not anticipating going into town this early.

Robin, however, either didn't notice this, or didn't care. She instead just gave him an affirmative nod. "You told me yesterday you'd pick the stuff for dinner up from Pierre's for me. Remember?"

"Well yeah," He quickly covered. His eyes flickered to me for just a second, before frantically flashing back to his mother. "I wasn't planning on going, like, now."

A sour expression crossed Robin's face, and she looked like she was going to argue. I knew that she was trying to passively teach him something about manners, but I wasn't afraid of a little snow.

I spoke up before she had the chance. "I appreciate it, Robin, but the snow is a walk in the park compared to the mines," I explained lightly. She still looked uncertain, so I reassured her one more time, "I'll be fine. It's not snowing as hard now as it was earlier."

Robin sighed, apparently admitting defeat. "Alright. I'll come see you tomorrow morning about that stable."

I nodded thankfully, "Right, thank you. I'll see you then." This time, I dismissed thoughts of courtesy and avoided Sebastian's eyes entirely as I slipped out the front door.

I wanted nothing more than to run home to a bottle of wine and Queen of Sauce reruns, but after all of that, my conscience didn't let me take the short way home. Robin clearly cared a lot about me getting home safely – more than I cared about me getting home safely – and it felt wrong to lie to her.

I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets as I walked, my shoulders hunched against the lightly falling snowing. The cold air pinched my nose, and I sneezed, which was enough motivation to get me to pull jacket up even higher.

I didn't mind the snow or the cold too much, but walking in it would never be my favorite thing. As I trudged through town, I was reminded of my walks alone to school as a child on days when my mother worked early and couldn't drop me off. I sighed, as I typically did when I thought of her. I loved her dearly, and she was my hero growing up, but as a young adult, I could only seem to remember all the ways she did me wrong.

Like guilt tripping me into dropping everything and moving to my grandfather's farm, for example. I'm half convinced she's the one who coerced him to leave it to me in the will, if I'm honest. She apparently wasn't a fan of my life in the city.

By the time I got back to the farmhouse, my legs ached. I cursed Robin under my breath as I screwed the cork out of a new bottle of wine, but realistically, the extra walk was nice. I sighed to myself as I curled up under the wool blanket I kept draped over the couch. Whatever resentment I was harboring towards this town and the people in it, I needed to shake. For better or for worse, this was my life now. And it really wasn't all that bad.

⦿

I WAS BREWING A POT OF COFFEE WHEN SOMEONE KNOCKED ON MY DOOR THE NEXT MORNING. I knew that it had to be Robin, so I stepped away from the kitchen to answer it. I jumped a little bit when I discovered that it was not Robin, but rather her son.

My heart started racing. "Is your mom okay?" I blurted, forgetting all formalities. He raised his eyebrows at my comment, surprise flashing across his face. His awkward fidgeting suddenly reminded me that he was probably just as uncomfortable as I was. I cleared my throat, "Sorry."

"No, it's okay," he awkwardly said. "At least you... um, care... I guess." I nodded, and a brief silence overtook the conversation. Sebastian quickly explained the situation, "She sent me to tell you she's not coming today. I guess she woke up with a cold, I don't know. I always feel like shit when I wake up as early as she does, so."

His mention of the time got me thinking, and I glanced at my wrist watch. It was hardly 8. "Isn't this early for you?" I asked.

He nodded, a groggy scowl on his lips. "Trust me, I'm not here by choice," he grumbled. After a second, he added, "no offense."

I shrugged off his apology. "I didn't get up much before ten when I lived at home," I responded, hoping it would ease a bit of the odd tension in the air.

"I bet that change must've sucked," he said.

I nodded, "it did."

There was another awkward pause. Had socializing always been this difficult? Sebastian cleared his throat to say something – goodbye, I'm sure – but sneezed instead. A shiver seemed to run up his spine, and I realized that he was wearing pajama pants, slippers, and a hoodie. In the snow. At 8 am.

"Um, do you want a cup of coffee?" I found myself asking. The socialization was awkward, but I wasn't going to let him freeze to death. I guess I do have compassion for other people.

Take that, mom.

He took a moment to process my offer. "Ah," he started, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. I felt a refusal coming, which I was honestly fine with – at least I offered. But after a look around the snowy fields, and then a long assessment of my face, he sighed. "You don't mind?"

I shook my head, a tiny smile on my pursed lips. "I'm not gonna drink an entire pot of coffee by myself," I responded.

That seemed to be the right answer, as he actually smiled. "Thanks," he mumbled shyly. I just returned his smile and showed him to the kitchen.

The pot was just finishing up when I returned to the countertop, hoping that Sebastian would seat himself without instruction needed. The soft sound of wood scraping against wood told me my hopes were answered.

I poured two mugs of coffee and grabbed a bowl of cream before joining my guest at the table. I only really had two chairs, as I had been focused on other things, and I didn't typically entertain enough guests to need multiple chairs, anyway. I didn't typically entertain guests at all.

Sebastian muttered another "thank you" as he wrapped his hands around the warm mug. This time I actually told him he was welcome, mostly because I didn't know what to talk about, and it would be significantly harder to excuse awkward silence now that he was in my house. It didn't matter, though. The kitchen grew quiet anyway.

"I can't believe you left the city for this," Sebastian eventually blurted as his eyes traveled around the farmhouse. When I raised an eyebrow at him, his face reddened. "Sorry. Your farm is really nice, too, I just mean..." he trailed off, his embarrassment outweighing his desire to explain himself.

I fought back my extreme amusement to give him a relatively vague answer, hoping to push the subject away. "I can't believe it either, sometimes," was all I said. I figured he could interpret that however he liked.

To my dismay, my guest seemed more curious about my backstory that I would've predicted. "Why did you move out here? I mean, I know the farm was your grandfather's, or whatever, but you chose to move."

The sleep had more or less vanished from his face, and he instead sat in front of me bright-eyed, genuinely intrigued in my answer. It would've been endearing, possibly even flattering, if it wasn't such a sore subject. I quickly reminded myself that I had just promised that I would let my resentment go. I sighed, "It's a long story."

He glanced at my watch, wordlessly pointing out that we had time for a long story. Even passively, he managed to be a smartass.

"I didn't really choose to move," I prefaced. I watched as his face darkened, a similar embarrassment to earlier spreading across his expression. Before he made himself feel too bad, I told the story. "My mom more or less made that choice for me. She didn't really agree with the choices I made or the people I spent time with after I graduated high school. And I guess I can't blame her.

When my grandfather died last year, I had pretty much just turned twenty, and still pretty dependent on my parents in a lot of ways. My dad and I had this big argument one day, and then the next night my mom was more or less blackmailing me into moving out to the farm."

It was quiet for a second as Sebastian tried to decipher if I was done. When he decided that I was, he said, "I get it. You didn't like, want to come here. That makes sense."

I shrugged." I mean, I didn't hate my life in Zuzu. I got into trouble, made some mistakes here and there," I paused, my face dipped to hide my embarrassment. I reeled it back, "I was just starting to really try and figure my life out. And then all of a sudden I was just living an entirely new life. It's like I didn't get a break from feeling out of place."

He nodded like he understood the feeling, though I'd never ask if he did or not. The was a pause, and then he asked, "Do you plan on going back, then?"

It was a weird situation to be in. On one hand, this was the question that haunted me every night as I fell asleep. On the other, I never imagined that Robin's son, of all people, was going to be the one to finally make me face it.

"Not at the moment," I settled, He made a face, and I added, "I like it here, even if I don't like admitting it. I'm finally adjusting to it, and I don't want to just drop everything again."

He nodded pensively as he took a long sip from his mug, his shoulders relaxing. I half expected him to disagree with my opinion. He gave me the impression he wasn't exactly fond of his hometown. To my surprise, he instead conceded, "Living here is... nice."

I agreed, and then because I couldn't think of anything else to say, I resorted to finishing my coffee. The room fell back into silence, but it wasn't quite as uncomfortable this time around.

When both of our coffee mugs were empty, Sebastian wasted no time in excusing himself – something I appreciated. I was already prepared to tell him that I had to go check on the chickens, but he mentioned needing to go back to his mom before I have to use my excuse.

I walked him to the door, as any good host would, and suddenly found myself in the awkward place of not knowing how to say goodbye. I didn't think that we were exactly friends, but we certainly knew each other a lot better now than we did when he got here. I was able to admit to myself that having an acquaintance in town felt kind of nice.

"Tell your mom I hope she feels better, and to not worry about the stable," I requested. I watched as he nodded, his expression stoic. Sighing internally, I forced myself to swallow my pride. "It was also nice to talk to you, for a change."

It took a second for him to process my words, but once he did, an honest smile popped onto his face. "Yeah, you too," he returned meekly.

I gave him a small smile. After a brief pause, he scratched at the back of his neck, his expression suddenly covered with what looked like the desire to flee. I was almost expecting him to turn and leave without saying anything else, but he instead cleared his throat and said, "Thanks again for the coffee. Um, next time you're over to talk to my mom, you should come say hi."

His words caught me off guard, but I think I managed to smile and nod like a normal person. My reaction – though I don't remember it – seemed to be appropriate, as I received a smile in return. He sent me a small wave before pulling his hood up over his ears and trudging out into the snow.

An unfamiliar feeling thumped in my chest as I went back inside to clear the dishes from the table. My day would fall into a routine after that, just like every day seemed to in Pelican Town. I found that I didn't really mind.

#stardew valley #stardew fanfic #stardew imagines #sebastian stardew valley #stardew valley sebastian #stardew valley robin #stdv #switch games #steam games #stardew valley imagines

78 notes · View notes