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typewriting-robin · 8 months ago

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Sinner Like Us

Alfons/Robin OC (M x F)

Rating: E/Dead Dove

Serena, a brainy but bitter Robin with a storied past arrives at Crown. Alfons Sylvatica takes an interest in playing with her, giving her an offer she can't refuse. She agrees, not knowing she is way in over her head.

cw: yandere, obsessions, stabbing, references to physical assault, blood and depictions of blood, knifeplay, dubcon, noncon, loss of virginity,

Word count: 8,132

note~ it is recommended but not required to read the OC/MC master list and scroll to Serena, the Robin that corresponds to Alfons.

It happened again. Another nightmare.

“Roxane and I are going to be married and there’s nothing you can do to stop it!” It was unmistakably Patrick’s voice that rang out in the darkness. Slowly, he began to materialize. First came his medium brown hair, then his blue-green eyes. Roxane did too. Her face always burned into her memory. Her large blue eyes and perfect blonde ringlets.

It had been love at first sight for Patrick and Roxane.

All of her chances were lost the moment those two locked eyes.

And now, she had nothing to live for.

“I can absolutely stop it! I can! I can! I can!” A primal roar began to come out of her diaphragm, like she was in an opera and playing a scorned lover. A knife, much like her former love and his love, materialized in her hand. “You don’t know me, nor what I’m capable of!”

She knew exactly what to do, running to her target with inhumane speed.

She raised the knife against Roxane’s perfect form, took in a deep breath, and plunged down with force. She ignored the screams Roxane made.

Raise.

Plunge.

Raise.

Plunge.

It didn’t stifle the screams that Roxane made but she kept going, mechanically, like a machine in a factory, she had no will, nothing left of her own. Blood pooled around them and she was covered in it. Sticky, squelching, slimy. The texture viscous, flowing everywhere, seeping into her fingers but she did not care.

“Stop it! Stop it , Serena. Serena, SERENA!”

Patrick’s voice roused her from her sleep, rising as she awoke to her empty apartment above the bakery. The sun wasn’t fully out but it was moments away from daybreak.

“Again,” she said. She had that nightmare again. Sometimes she would stab Roxane. Sometimes it was Patrick. Occasionally it would be both.

It always served to remind her how she got here and why this was her final chance at living. She stepped into the shower and bathed, then got ready for her day as a Robin for the post office, putting on her glasses and her green ribbon. Serena didn’t start wearing glasses until after she moved to London. At first it was supposed to aid her disguise, along with the haircut she had given herself, but since she had taken to writing so late at night, the glasses became necessary.

She didn’t look like the Lady Serena Hastings of old. Now she was Serena Harlow, a simple Robin who delivered letters and correspondences. It was a respectable job for someone as disreputable as her.

“This is for you,” her boss said when she entered the post office. It was her weekly check, made from her various side jobs, where she would write various gossip columns and serials--all under different names. Her side job. The only thing that belonged to Serena Hastings. The only thing they could share under the veil of anonymity.

“Thanks,” she said, hiding the check in her pocket.

It seemed like an ordinary day, until she spotted a man so unusual. He reminded her of Patrick, even though they couldn’t have been more different. He was elegant, dignified. Ethereally beautiful, his blood red eyes firmly on her. She looked away before continuing with her business.

But then, her day took an unexpected turn after delivering her latest love letter.

“Serena! I need you to make a night run.”

“Huh? Me?” she asked. “Why?” She wasn’t a particularly outstanding Robin. Others were much faster, more efficient, more ambitious. Besides, she had gotten some gossip about one of the Queen’s grandchildren that she was itching to write.

“There’s no one else. You’ll get the pay you want so please do this delivery.”

She sighed, not wanting to fall out of the lines she had been given. This was her extra chance at life. Her father helped her sacrifice everything for this one shot to live anew. Just as she had helped that thieving girl hours ago.

Which came crashing down in an eerie echo when she saw her mail recipient drowned in a pool of his own blood.

The chain of events that resulted were almost dreamlike for her.

“Seize her belongings,” the leader, the same man with the blood red eyes, who had the same aura as Patrick said to the rest of the men. She couldn’t believe they had crossed paths again. “Let’s take her to Crown Castle.”

The man with the mint green eyes sat next to her as he read her paycheck out loud as they waited for their true leader to arrive. “‘Thank you, Lady Blare and Sir Samuel Harlow. London is now watching thanks to your erstwhile off-season gaze.’”

“That’s private!” she said, yelling. Her mid-length red hair was bobbing as she tried to snatch her letters back. Which would never happen as the Patrick-like man, William, kept her rooted to the spot.

“But your name definitely isn’t Samuel. Nor is it Blare,” Harrison, the man with the mint green eyes said.

She shook her head. “They are me, but not me,” she said.

The man with the ash-gray blue eyes and cat-like grin raised her by her chin. Their eyes locked and she felt herself drowning in the pool of his empty eyes. “She’s not lying,” he said, his voice slinky and graceful. He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Do tell us your real name, my dear.” Her heart pounded from the way he had touched her.

She felt a compulsion rise through her spine. “S…Serena Harlow.”

“That’s a lie,” Harrison said. One of the men drew his weapon. The man with the cat-like grin retracted his hand from her chin.

“Shit!” she cursed to herself, remembering she was using up her final chance at life and she couldn’t waste it on a simple, yet honest mistake she made. “My apologies. That’s the name I go by now. I was born Serena Hastings. Please do not call me Lady Hastings. I am Harlow now.” She thought herself pathetic as she heard herself speak with a pleading edge to her voice.

“Lady Blare? The Lady Blare?” a voice rang out, interrupting her plea. It was a man with impossibly long black hair and jewel toned eyes. “I know you quite well! Why, you were the thorn in the Queen’s side, reporting over the epic highs and lows of Princess Beatrice and Louis-Napoleon. It had almost gotten in the way of her marriage to Henry of Battenberg.”

Serena couldn’t hide the redness of her cheeks. Of course that story would come to mind. Although this happened when she was still Serena Hastings, it was some of her best known work. She sympathized with the lovers somewhat, until Beatrice married Henry of Battenberg. Maybe that was what fate wanted. Just as Patrick should have married her.

And yet…

Somehow this is what ultimately spared her and the man, Victor, made a deal to use her writing talents to become something known as a Fairytale Keeper. And then there was the party full of parlor tricks and magic tricks.

Serena lowered her guard now that she knew she would keep living on another day and made her observations. All of the men of Crown were ludicrously attractive, even the one with a horrible temper.

If her parents had introduced her to other men and not just set her up to fail with Patrick, could things have ended up differently? She raised her glass of water and drank.

“Would you care for a glass of wine?” the man with the raven hair and slinky voice said, interrupting her reverie. He held up a bottle of wine.

“No, thank you.”

“Ah, but it’s a celebration and you are the guest of honor,” he said, pouring a second glass. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Besides, it’s vintage and from the countryside of Italy.” He sat down in front of her. She recalled the way his gloved hand touched her chin earlier that night when he searched her gaze.

“A gossip columnist,” he mused. “I don’t know exactly what Victor is thinking but…” He offered her the glass and clinked them together. “Congratulations.”

“I’m not just a gossip columnist,” she said, trying to rein in her temper. The fact that she was reduced to Lady Blare and not Samuel Harlow was infuriating. “I write stories too! Poetry as well!”

“I’d have to read them sometime.” His gaze traveled to the sinister man with the overcoat. “Jude over there…he never goes without his morning paper. Of course, I always attend to Lord Elbert in the morning so newspapers are difficult to come by with my schedule.”

Out of all the men here she knew Lord Elbert. Not that they had met, but the stories surrounding him were aplenty. He was the most beautiful man here but never said a word. This one in front of her was his mouthpiece. “I did not get your name, sorry.”

“Alfons. Do care to remember it, my dear.”

She sipped on more wine. “I suppose I’ll see you around, Alfons,” she said, watching him leave the room in the same way a cat would slink away, slipping into the night.

****

This time, she had stabbed the two of them to death. No more Patrick. No more Roxane as their bodies lay in a bloody heap. What changed, however, was the playing of a piano.

“Well done, little Robin,” William said as he applauded.

“You are as sinful as the rest of us. Just like us,” Victor said.

The rest of the men of Crown joined in a circle, surrounding her and the lifeless husks of Patrick and Roxane, chanting, spurring her on.

Serena rose from her bed in a gasp. She made a loud gasp, her eyes wide as she woke from another nightmare. It was the dead of night. She had only slept for an hour.

She rubbed her temples and got out of bed. She didn’t care much for her appearance ever since she left home but didn’t bother to brush her hair as she made her way into the kitchen, searching wildly for any chamomile herbs. Or perhaps valerian root.

The noise she made eventually attracted someone.

It wasn’t the maids but Alfons. He wasn’t wearing his jacket but the white undershirt he wore underneath it.

“It’s you,” she said.

He grinned, reminding her of a cat again. “You won’t find Crown’s secrets in here, Miss Serena” he said, teasing her.

She tried to play off her frustration. “Only if those secrets are of chamomile and valerian root,” she said pleasantly.

Alfons kept his grin, sitting on the cabinets opposite to where she was searching. “You’re warm,” he said. Serena went left. “Colder now. “ She went back right. “Warmer.”

Her temper got the best of her as she shouted. “Just tell me where they are!”

Alfons only looked more amused, his smile as wide as a Cheshire cat. “And spoil the fun? How do you know I’m not lying?”

“Because I already ransacked that side. It’s on this side.”

“Correct. And you’re starting to burn up.”

Despite, or perhaps, in spite of his words, she did feel heated but opened the cabinet where the tea leaves were. This was what he meant. She grabbed some chamomile and brewed it using the tea kettle she had found.

“You can find tea leaves at Roger’s but he’ll insist you owe him.”

Serena nodded. “Wouldn’t want that.”

“No, I’d rather you owe me.”

She stopped at his words. “Don’t these belong to Crown?”

“You are uneducated in our ways, but don’t worry, I’m here to help.” He got off the countertop and sauntered over to where she was. “I bought these for my Lord, of course. You are borrowing it but I’m afraid you owe me now.”

“Then I’ll stop making it.” She tried to move the tea kettle away but his gloved hand covered hers.

“No need. What’s done is done, Miss Serena,” he said, keeping his hand over hers, his fingers intertwining with hers. She was trapped. It made her heart skip a beat.

“So what do I owe you?” she asked. “What could you possibly want from me?”

He did not move his hand. “Simple. I want Lady Harlow to study me and only me for her Fairytale Keeping duties.”

“That’s not a good idea,” she said. “In the gossip world, it’s important to maintain as many sources as you can.” She couldn’t believe she was bringing this up.

“Ah yes, but…” He loosened his hand and stood up straight. “Once you get that incredibly juicy morsel, you start digging, wanting, yearning for more. I can give you all that. Access to parties, of course but also…” he leaned in. “Many of those people…the ones we love to read about…have the darkest of secrets. Love. Pleasure. Pain. And I can be the conduit for you.”

“I thought you said I owed you. This is an equivalent exchange,” she pointed out.

He responded by moving a strand of her unruly bedhead. “Correct. I’ll have to think up a more immediate payment in that case. But come tomorrow, Victor will tell you to focus on one member of Crown. He will want you to shadow William but I don’t think you’re suited for him. I can see it in your eyes.”

“And what, pray tell, are you possibly going about here with that?”

Alfons leaned in. “It’s simple, my dear Miss Robin. You’re not suited for the self-righteous monarch. A leader of the dark like him? No, you belong somewhere deeper. Somewhere few would dare to tread and come back.” She took a step away from him, wondering if he could read her, his voice hypnotic. There’s no way he knew of her past and the terrible thing she did.

“I’ll…consider it…”

“Now as for the matter of payment for the tea.”

Alfons leaned in, his lips sealing hers with his. She was startled by his kiss, his lips brushing hers with a lightness to it. It had reminded her of—

The tea kettle made a high-pitched noise, indicating the tea was ready. Without saying another word, Alfons walked out, not even bidding her goodnight as she was left with a screeching pot of tea, her hand lifting to touch the very lips he had kissed, as if she had been kissed by a phantom.

***

As she got dressed the next morning, she thought of the kiss from last night. Alfons’s kiss was too similar to the ones she shared with Patrick. He had kissed her for the first time when she was fifteen, him eighteen. It was not long after their engagement and she had considered that to be the best day of her life.

His kiss was gentle and featherlight, sincere, and yet powerful with how it made her stir.

Alfons’s kiss was also gentle and featherlight, but it lacked any of the sincerity Patrick had in his kiss, right? But she had thought about it nonstop, even as she was treading her way to Victor’s office.

“Good morning, my chirping little Robin! Would you like some freshly baked scones made by Yours Truly?”

“Good morning to you too,” she said, trying to keep herself chipper as she accepted a scone, lavishing butter on it as Victor began to speak.

“I know today marks your first official day at Crown so I wanted to have a little chat and suggestion as to how you’d handle your duties. Of course, you could do a general report but it would be better if you just focused on one member of Crown.”

Serena nodded, not giving away that this was the exact conversation she had with Alfons last night. This was where she was at a crossroads. Alfons said Victor would want her to study William but now she had the power to choose. But what if she took a third option instead of William or Alfons?

She sifted through the men in her head who weren’t Alfons.

Elbert? Too quiet.

Jude? Sadistic.

Ellis? Odd. Also did a sharp one eighty after Victor said not to kill her.

Roger? He was just like Alfons. Another side of the same coin.

But Alfons’s kiss reminded her of her past. And his offer. What was it? She conjured his words in her mind. I can give you all that. Access to parties, of course but also…” he leaned in. “Many of those people…the ones we love to read about...have the darkest of secrets. Love. Pleasure. Pain. And I can be the conduit for you.

“Miss? Robin?” Victor waved his hand at her.

His hand brought her out of her stupor. “Sorry, I was thinking a little. You want me to observe William?” she asked, searching his jewel toned eyes.

“I did! See, William is my fellow cofou—”

She cleared her throat, interrupting him, and then immediately regretting it. She never was very good at social manners, even less after she assumed her new identity and began throwing caution to the wind. “I wish to observe someone else,” she said.

“Of course! But I can’t make promises that they will have your best interest at heart. William is my longest known acquaintance and the most trusted member of Crown. You can count on him.”

“I understand but I would prefer to observe Alfons.”

There was a pregnant pause between them.

But before she could justify her words, Victor spoke. “Not the worst choice of my sons to work with but I’ll allow it.”

“There’s a worst choice?” she asked, unable to hide her curiosity.

Victor laughed. “Why of course! I have made my own tier list of my sons from best to worst when with others. Personalized, of course based on many factors including forming partnerships, working well with others. Alfons belongs in hmm…tier B, I believe? But now that I’m thinking about it, he would be a suitable partner for you, yes yes. He is delightful and adorable!”

“He works for Lord Elbert, no?” Serena asked, trying not to hinge too much on Victor’s strange perception of Alfons. “Delightful” and “adorable” weren't words that seemed to aptly describe Alfons.

He smiled. “Yes, and he goes to many, many lavish affairs. Affairs that Lady Blare would not be shy to report on. Ah yes, but do be careful about him. Out of all my sons, he is…perhaps the most pleasure seeking and his abilities are very much attuned to that affinity. You must understand that before moving on because once the glove comes off…I’m afraid you’ll be on your own. Will you accept that risk?”

“I will.” She thought of the kiss he had given her. He was pleasure seeking, alright. The way he had held her chin, her hand over his, the way he handed her the wine. The way he always toyed with her like a cat tossing a ball of yarn. There was no doubt of that. She knew what she was getting herself into. Maybe. Right?

“Let me talk to him. I’ll get started right away.”

***

Alfons was in the foyer, elegantly taking tea with Lord Elbert, who watched her with interest.

“Good morning,” she said to him, curtseying. Alfons’s gaze was directly on her.

Elbert set his tea down. “Good morning.” He looked at Alfons. “Tell me, Al. Is she beautiful?”

“Of course not,” was his instant reply. Her face fell at his lack of hesitation. “Her hair is a red rat’s nest and her eyes the color of…hmmm that pet monkey you bought when you were seventeen, remember? And she needs visual aids. No beautiful thing would need something so imperfect.”

“Excuse you!” she said, huffing. “And I was just about to tell you that I had chosen you! You…you…” She was ready to throw curses at him, Elbert's ears be damned!

Alfons’s smirk only widened. “Yet another reason why you cannot have her, Elbie. She’s mine.”

“Hmm,” Elbert said. He sipped his tea, not saying another word. She ran off and of course, Alfons followed her. He pulled on her wrist.

“Where are you going?”

“Perhaps I’m going to tell Victor that I’m choosing William instead of someone as rude as you. That he was right all along.” He didn’t have to go that hard about her insecurities. She was unconventional. She knew that. She had lost the love of her life to a head turning beauty. A fact that she had never, ever forgotten about.

“If I told Elbert the truth, that your eyes are as green as a tigress about to pounce, that your hair is as red as a rose in bloom. That you stand out in a crowd, you would never see us again.”

She froze in place. “Okay now you’re just laying it on thick.” She couldn’t get a read on him. Was he attracted or repulsed by her?

Alfons laughed. “I cannot win with you, but I’m a patient man.” His hand moved up her elbow and to her upper arm, resting on her shoulder.

“Well, I did actually commit myself to studying you.” She studied his features. If he found her to stand out, truly, she found him to be…almost nondescript. Or at least, deliberately so. Everything about him oozed darkness, even here in the light. Like he was an intruder.

“A wise decision. Elbert…well, he hasn’t stuffed a human yet but perhaps it would have been a matter of time.” His hand moved to her chin, tilting it upwards to gauge her reaction.

“A taxidermist?”

Alfons hummed cryptically. “Meet me tonight at hmm…ten for a little chat,” he said, changing the subject.

“Where?”

“We could meet in my bedroom,” he said.

“No thanks.”

“Yours then.”

“Try again.”

“Here then. In the foyer. For tea.”

“Are you upcharging me? Or should I bring my own tea?”

“No need this time. I’ll see you then, dearest.” He moved his hand from her chin to her hair, ruffling it up further. “And do wear something comfortable.” He smirked before they parted ways.

***

Serena spent the rest of the day getting to know the rest of Crown and studying them for her note taking skills. Victor probably didn’t expect her to get much done on Day 1 but she was persistent if not anything.

That and it was honestly the longest she had gone without thinking about Patrick and Roxane. Everyone was such a nice distraction.

Alfons was there in the lounge at the specified time. She made sure to brush her hair and wear it in her usual pigtail style that she had adopted as a Robin. More importantly, she had a switchblade hidden in her pocket. It was one of her few possessions she was allowed to keep at Crown because Victor said, “she needed a final means of defense”.

As she descended the stairs, she could smell the fragrance of tea. Alfons was as he was last night, only in his white undershirt and black trousers that were meant for sleeping.

“Good evening, Miss Serena.”

“Good evening.” He handed her a saucer of tea. “What tea is it?”

“Bergamot. With a drop of lemon and honey for added taste.”

“Thanks. It smells really nice.” She raised her glass of tea to her lips, gingerly taking a small sip in fear of burning herself.

Alfons only surveilled her. “You don’t act like it but when you hold the saucer, you remind me of the noble ladies at the parties I escort Elbie to.”

Serena cast her gaze away from Alfons. He was right but she was never a shining example of a noble. “Why did you want to meet me this late at night?”

Alfons chuckled. “You are always quite to the point, Miss Serena.”

“Because ‘a little chat’ could mean anything.”

Alfons relaxed on the sofa, setting his tea down. “Very well. I will answer your blunt question with a blunt response.” He faced her completely and Serena was reminded how much larger he was than her. He raised his hand, his leather clad thumb circling around her lower lip before Serena caught it.

“Stop.”

“You kiss like an innocent little noble,” he said, making good on his promise of giving her a blunt answer. It blindsided her enough that she lowered the hand that was covering Alfons’s. “Tell me, were you thinking about that paltry little kiss all day long? Did it make your heart race?”

Serena was too stubborn to answer him because she knew the answers to his questions were all “yes”. All she did was turn away and try to grab her tea.

Alfons’s laugh was louder. “How amusing. That’s how they all kiss, by the way. One brush of the lips and it sends them to the brink of insanity.”

“Are you here to just goad me?” She knew there was absolutely zero chance she would win with her switchblade but maybe if she threw hot tea at his face…

“Of course not. However, if you intend on staying on as my dutiful fairytale keeper and fellow co-conspirator, I have to insist we get better acquainted.” Serena knew that was a given. But…Alfons continued. “That’s why I wish to kiss you like a man does a woman. Won’t you do that for me?”

Serena instantly wanted to say no. Up until yesterday, the only person she had ever kissed was Patrick. She would always compare them, no matter what.

Alfons spoke again. “Perhaps I thought incorrectly of you. You struck me as someone who could survive the depths of pleasure, pain, insanity,...” He was closer to her, definitely goading her.

He was more than attractive, that much she could admit. “One kiss.”

Alfons didn’t hesitate, bringing himself close to her, his hand expertly reaching to stroke her bottom lip. “You have beautiful bone structure,” he said. “High cheekbones. Full lips. Perfect for kissing.” Alfonse moved closer, his lips finding her upper lips, caressing them with his. His lips moved down mid-kiss to squeeze her lower lip. She inhaled as she tried to control her out of control heartbeat as he cupped her cheeks with his hands, his kiss firm and yet so practiced. She couldn’t help but clumsily follow his lead.

He broke the kiss, where their lips made the softest popping noise. An unmistakable noise of two lovers caught in a liplock.

She was dazed for a moment before the instant comparison arose. This wasn’t anything like how Patrick kissed her. It wasn’t desperate, nor urgent but she felt…wanted. She moved away but he kept his hands on her cheeks.

“Did you enjoy that? No matter what you’ll say I know you did.”

Serena took a deep breath, unable to counter him. “I did.”

“Good. Now…” Alfons brought himself close to Serena once more, their lips meeting again as he kissed her squarely in the middle, their lips meeting each other’s again and again as his hands stayed resting on her cheek. She threw her arms around his neck, getting on her knees to match him, even though she knew she was inexperienced going against someone like him who was leagues ahead of her.

Alfons’s tongue prodded at her lips, parting them as he entered her mouth slowly, getting a taste of her. Serena was surprised, lost until his tongue found hers, caressing hers. She followed his move, like a mirror. There was increased urgency as his hands began to move down to her chest, ghosting over her breast as their tongues moved together, which caused her to breathe in sharply.

He broke the kiss. “Very good,” he said, licking his lips. Serena couldn’t help but think he looked so damned seductive and she knew he knew this terrible fact.

“It was. I…”

Alfons interrupted her. “Want seconds, Miss Robin? Let me sink us down to the depths of pleasure.”

Alfons closed the gap between them, his taste of Bergamot once against enveloping her as his tongue found hers again. She wondered if this is how Patrick and Roxane had kissed. Meanwhile hers were the chaste, reserved kisses. If Patrick wanted her, truly wanted her, he would kiss her like this.

Alfons startled her by lifting her up from the sofa. This time she ended the kiss. “Where in the world are we going? And the tea set?”

“While I love a good clandestine rendezvous, there was a reason why I wanted to use the bedroom as our meeting spot. As for the tea, the maids will pick it up. Don't worry about something as trivial as that.”

Serena understood as he carried her up the stairs. A whirlwind of thoughts began to stir. Alfons would eat her up but…but…how many times had the love of her life lay with that woman? And here she was, finally wanted. She would never marry Alfons, no one would want her. So why…

“I can walk by myself,” she said.

“They say it’s more romantic this way. The way a groom would carry his bride, no?” She couldn’t believe his words, nor what was happening. He moved her up to nibble on her ear before he whispered. “I’ll be gentle. Don’t be afraid of me.”

“I’m not.”

“You should be.”

Alfons’s room was elegant yet also spartan, with sprawling mirrors everywhere, including the ceiling. He set her down on the bed, which felt like she was a poor insect and Alfons the beautiful spider, trapping her in his web as he caged his body on top of hers, resuming their kisses.

He spoke between kisses, his gloved hands palming her breasts, which caused her to reflexively inhale deeply. “Poor thing. You’ve never been touched.” His hand slipped under her pajama blouse, squeezing her breast, his skilled fingers kneading her, drawing out her nipples. He watched her reactions with endless amusement as she squirmed underneath her. “Does it give you pleasure? Remember that lying is pointless.”

“Yes,” she hissed as he began to unbutton her pajamas. “It feels really good. Happy?”

His skin was impossibly clear, glossy in the moonlight. “Next time I’d rather you wear a chemise or a nightgown,” he said, freeing her of her top before moving his lips to her breasts, drawing out her nipples with his skilled tongue, swirling, putting just the right amount of pressure. He moaned as he consumed her, causing her to moan in turn.

Alfons stopped for an agonizing few seconds. She whined.

“My, how quickly have you taken to such pleasure. We haven’t even started yet.” Alfons began to lower his kisses down her stomach, leaving a tantalizing trail of kisses, his lips continuing their sensual pressure as he undid her silk and lace bottoms, lowering them and her underwear. He let out a small laugh as he kissed her womb, moving lower as his gloved fingers brushed against her hairs.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re just as red over here. Quite a rarity,” he said, twirling a strand, which caused her to yelp.

“R-really,” she said, trying to mask her pleasure, or perhaps her yearning to see what he’d do next.

“Yes,” he echoed. “Relax for me.” She followed his instructions as his kisses got lower, inhaling her as he parted her folds. She gasped. “There, there. I said I’d be gentle,” he said, breathing against her arousal. “This time.” Then his tongue elongated, licking a stripe of her wetness, causing her to moan. She lifted her hand to cover her mouth but Alfons’ hand caught her. “No. I want to hear every sound you make. Don’t hold back and neither will I.”

He began to focus entirely on her, parting her legs and setting them on his back as he vigorously licked her. He was teasing her relentlessly as she would gasp every time his tongue found her clit, then moved to stroke the rest of her folds with her tongue, then back again. Each time she moaned.

She remembered reading about this act in her mother’s secret erotic novels, fantasizing about this exact scenario on her wedding night to Patrick. But instead, she was getting this from…from Alfons’s skilled tongue as he teased her every corner, his tongue filling her before he began to flick relentlessly on her clit, now trying to get her to come. She moved her hands, gripping the pillow behind her as he rolled her hips up and down, keeping her legs open, ignoring the reflection of her writhing in pleasure as he continued taking her with his tongue. Serena breathed in and out, panting in a steady rhythm as the heat grew and grew, like a hot air balloon welling deep inside her. And then she felt it, a tidal wave of pleasure as Alfons’s tongue hit her bundle of nerves and everything that came with it, his tongue lapping up her every juice, her every pleasure.

There was a moment of silence between them in the darkness of the room. An eerie calm had enveloped the bedroom until she heard a rustling noise.

Alfons’s voice cut through the darkness. “Was that your first orgasm?”

She shook her head. “N-no.”

“You’re not as innocent as you seem. Noble girls…” he laughed, crawling up her body, giving her an upwards trail of kisses. “Unmarried noble girls like yourselves, are just like unplucked flowers. But you…” He coaxed her legs up to remove her bottoms, rendering her naked.

“Have you had a virgin before?”

“Many.”

“Then I’m just one in a long line.”

“You will have your qualities. But it’s only a matter of time and with some searching…you’ll stand out above the rest.” Then what could possibly make her different? “Are you ready?”

Alfons pulled at his drawer, taking out a small contraption she didn’t recognize. “What’s that?”

“To practice pleasure, one needs to exercise caution. While you are one hundred percent free of disease, I don’t wish to conceive a child, and neither do you.” A grin escaped his face. “Care to help me put it on? I’ll teach you.”

He began to strip out of his clothes, pulling his top up and his bottoms down, exposing his length. It was bigger than she thought they’d look as his cock seemed to be pointing at her entrance. “N-no thanks,” she said, noticing her throat was dry. “D-do it yourself.”

With the contraption, he rolled it up his length. She saw him, a perfect vision in the darkness. Only naked save for his hands, which she thought was odd but the last remaining rational vestiges of her mind reminded her that they were likely there for a reason.

Alfons began to kiss between her breasts, then her lips again, taking off her glasses and setting them aside on the nightstand with her small pile of clothes. He loosened her pigtails. One, then the other. She breathed in as she felt his erection against her entrance. He shushed her. “You won’t regret this.” He coaxed her upwards, their lips gently meeting for deceptively gentle kisses, much like their first kiss before she felt something stretching her below, an intrusion. He moved to fit in deeper, deeper, contrasting the tongueless kisses he was giving her.

She didn’t move as he entered her, shocked at the feeling of him inside her and he stopped kissing her.

It was an agonizing moment of silence. Then he started to withdraw, which caused her to whine.

“Shh, shh,” he whispered. “Trust me just this once.” Then he slammed into her, causing her to hiss in pleasure. He began slowly, his strokes soft.

“Am I doing this right?” She hated how vulnerable she sounded but Alfons paid it no mind.

He smiled. “You are,” he said amidst the darkness. “You’re doing amazing. Wrap your legs around my back and let me take care of you.” She did just so, her legs latching at his back as he began a steady rhythm.

Serena gasped from how good it felt.

“Let it all out.” Spurred on from her gasps, Alfons’s pace began to steadily move faster, more ruthless. His gloved hand traced her lips as they kept moving together, breaths steady. Alfons began to move his tongue back to her breasts as he kept going, her breathing growing heavier as he began to roll her hips with his other hand, squeezing her every curve.

“Ah,” she moaned.

“More,” he said, moving more forcefully as he now began a pattern of withdrawal then slamming back inside her. “Ah yes!” he said, as if savoring her.

“God!” she whispered, closing her eyes as she felt a second tidal wave hit her. Alfonse began to sense this, his movements now more urgent, frenzied as they rocked together and she felt her walls clench and push all around him as a sweet release began to take hold of her. “Ngh!” She couldn’t form a coherent word as she came. Alfons buried himself in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply as he let out a groan of pleasure, of satisfaction.

He let out a few haphazard strokes as he came, then pulling out and rolling over to her side.

“Did you enjoy that?” He was facing her, stroking her cheek with a gloved finger.

Serena wanted to lift a blanket to cover herself, but there were none nearby. “Yes, it was pretty good. Not how I imagined it, though.”

He rolled over to his stomach, propping himself on one elbow, a finger running up and down her arm. “Will you tell your lover how you imagined it?”

“Lover? Let’s not go too far.” She looked out the window, watching the shadows of trees move. “I had imagined it with my fiance.”

“Fiance?” he asked with a laugh. “How naughty of you to be so attached…”

“Ex-fiance,” she corrected.

“Ah, I see. How unfortunate for you, I suppose. And now you’re in my bed.” He kept stroking her arm. “I can share secrets with you. Will you allow me that honor of having yours?”

“You already had the honor of taking my virginity.”

“I’m a greedy man.” He began to flick his finger at her nipple.

“Stop that!” She began to do the same to him with his nipple, which made him laugh once more. “When I was a teenager, I was engaged. I loved him with every fiber of my being.” Alfons stopped playing with her body. “But he broke it off for another woman. They’re married now, with two little ones. And here I am.” That wasn’t even the abridged version of the story. She was deliberately missing out on so many details.

“Here you are,” he said, an echo, as if a mirror on the wall, his blue eyes not leaving hers. “What was his name?”

“Patrick Villers-Howard.”

“Patrick,” he said, nodding. It was odd to hear him say his name, a name she hadn’t muttered in years. A name that caused her much pleasure, yet so much heartache.

“The moment he met her, anything we had was doomed.” She couldn’t believe this was happening. She was stark naked with a man she barely knew talking about this topic in particular.

“I see,” he said. “But perhaps he didn't want you in the first place.” He brought his propped up hand to his mouth, and pulled it with his teeth. Her eyes widened at the unexpectedly seductive move. He withdrew his playful hand from her body, repeating the same action with his teeth pulling off his glove. The gloves made a small plop, plop noise as they fell onto the bed, falling gracefully. Her eyes saw his hands, smooth and without a single scar.

She couldn’t understand what was happening but her adrenaline began to rise from his actions, like she stumbled upon a sight she was not meant to see.

Alfons’s bare hand stroked her cheek, his thumb padding over her cheekbone and giving her forehead a gentle kiss. “Close your eyes.”

She was trapped in this vortex of Alfons’s bed and so she did the most illogical thing imaginable. She closed her eyes, feeling fingers scrape throughout her body. Then whispers sweet as candy filled her ears alongside featherlight kisses on her earlobe. She felt a pair of hands reach the nape of her neck, stroking her softly, causing her to shudder.

“Relax…relax…” A soothing voice said.

She felt herself falling…falling…falling….falling into a pit of depths disguised as satin sheets and pillows. The world shifted and a ghost from her past emerged as she took in a deep breath, exhaling.

There he was. Brown hair and captivating blue-green eyes. A handsome, golden face and he was naked beside her. “Patrick!”

“Serena,” he said. His voice…it felt like she was a desert flower and he the rain. A voice she only heard in her dreams. Without thinking twice, she threw her arms around him. “What are you doing here?”

“I left her. My family was right. It should have been you I married.”

“Patrick.” She crawled towards him and took his hand, kissing the palm of his hand. “It always should have been me, you buffoon. I was the perfect woman for you. Made myself perfect for you,” she said between kisses. Then she set down his hand and pushed him down the bed. “All for you to fuck it up with some adopted penniless girl.”

“It’s you I love.”

Hearing those words made her heart soar. Patrick, who had never said those words to her. She moved to kiss his lips, his kiss deep and all-encompassing. She broke their kiss. “I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.” She began to kiss down his body, worshiping each part of his body with reverence, with love and adoration. His chest, his thighs, feet. She put every part of her soul into her kisses.

He moaned. “Please, Serena.”

Serena pushed him down on the bed. When the rumors began, when there were whispers of him kissing and holding Roxane in the garden mazes, Serena would fantasize about cornering him and taking over, ensuring that he would never forget her.

“Please, Serena, I want you,” he said, pleading, his voice matching the many late night fantasies she had of him when they were engaged.

She climbed him, watching him open a drawer and sift through it. She moved to the discarded pile of her clothes on the other nightstand, grabbing her own beloved item as he got himself ready for her.

“After this, love me and only me,” she said as he helped her down his shaft, filling her wet warmth with his eager cock. How she had fantasized about this. She rode him slowly. “You feel as good as I imagined.”

“So do you…Serena…Serena…”

“Patrick…if I ever see you with that bitch again, I will…I will…” she unleashed her switchblade on his neck, careful not to let the blade touch his perfect skin.

His eyes widened and yet, he sighed in pleasure, as if betraying the surprise as he squeezed her ass, moving her to his liking.

She moaned louder as she ran the knife down his body, careful not to hurt him. Their movements were primal, rhythmic as she rode him, trying to match it the way her fantasies went. The knife moved down to his nipples, then his abs, careful not to break the skin as she cut a mark.

“I’m marking you,” she said. “You’re mine. All mine. No one else’s.”

She rode him harder as she wrote S.H on his chest, careful to make the wound shallow. Satisfied, she cast the knife aside and threw it to the side, giving him short but impactful rides as their bodies squelched together.

“Patrick, I’m so close….please….” She begged, watching the small droplets of blood drip down his chest, exciting her more. “Fuck…”

“Serena…I love you,” he said.

Those were the magic words that made her feel an ecstasy unlike anything else she had ever felt before, arching her back as stars filled her eyes. Patrick came right after her, letting out a yell of pleasure.

She collapsed on top of him, but refused to pull out, cuddling him. “You bastard,” she said. “Just for that, you’re not leaving me, not for a moment.” She kept him inside her, even though she was sore and bruised, she needed him to stay. Stay with her forever.

“I couldn’t leave you if I tried,” he said, cooing into her ear and rubbing his delicate hands on her body. Their legs intertwined as exhaustion finally set in. But as she began to fall asleep, she saw a shift in Patrick’s hair, momentarily matching the inky black depths of night.

***

The first thing she felt when she woke up the next day was something warm inside her. She stirred, remembering the night she had spent with Patrick. A night with no nightmares, only sweet dreams.

But when her eyes awoke, she didn’t see the soft brown of his hair, but black strands. She was cuddling him.

She jolted, feeling disoriented. It woke up the man next to her as they lost their connection and he was no longer inside her. “What…what the…”

Her bed partner woke up. It wasn’t Patrick. Memories flashed in her eyes. No, this was one of the men of Crown, Alfons Sylvatica. She was in his bed, holding him, cuddling him tight. But…she had also been with Patrick. Right?

“Good morning,” he said, removing his arm from her. “I didn’t take you as a cuddler, but then again, that was quite the sweet dream you had. Did you enjoy it?”

“The fuck did you do?” Pleasantries be damned.

Alfonse calmly propped himself against the headboard. “Why, I’ve helped you, my dear. In more ways than one.” He took a strand of her hair, his ash gray eyes shining with a look she couldn’t place. “Did you enjoy it? ” he asked again. “Your first time with Patrick?”

Bile rose up her body. “W-what?”

He moved closer to her, a finger caressing her cheek. “Allow me to introduce you to my Curse—Magic Mirror. One bare, naked touch to the nape of your neck, and I will show you the most beautiful, fleeting dreams. Your endless desires.”

Serena quickly put the pieces together. He had manipulated, made her see what she wanted to see.

She recalled Victor’s warning yesterday: “Do be careful about him. Out of all my sons, he is…perhaps the most pleasure seeking and his abilities are very much attuned to that affinity. You must understand that before moving on because once the glove comes off…I’m afraid you’ll be on your own. Will you accept that risk?”

Slowly, the proof showed itself. There was a mark on the center of his chest. A shallow mark reading S.H. She remembered carving that on Patrick’s skin, not Alfons’s. Her eyes widened in mortification as she shook.

“No. That’s not…”

“Who cares whether it’s the truth or not?” He kissed her cheek. “More importantly, wouldn’t it be more appealing to have a fleeting dream with me?”

“I…” She recalled how she felt when she finally had the love of her life inside her. She felt so wanted, so beautiful. “It was, but that doesn’t mean that…”

“If you can’t accept reality, then run from it. Run to me and I’ll wash them all away for you.” He kissed her other cheek, his kiss tender. Like a lover's.

Serena moved away from him. Alfons…he really was the spider weaving not just trapping her into his lair, but also weaving illusory threads built off her weaknesses. “Stop it.” Tears began to spring out of her eyes. Then she remembered the knife. The knife she had used to hurt Patrick. To hurt Roxane and she stilled, frozen as though she were to lose consciousness.

Alfons embraced her as if understanding. He kissed her forehead. “Shh…all you have to do is forget all of this fear…all of this pain and fill it with pleasure. After all, every inch of you is amazing.”

Alfons’s embrace calmed her, if only for a second, but she pulled away, quickly getting dressed. “I have to go.”

He waved his hand at her. “I’ll leave you to your typewriter. I’m certain you have much to write in your little lorebook. Come seek me out when you’re ready again, my dearest, most delightfully insane Robin.” He bowed at her, still stark naked as she turned tail and ran, escaping from his darkness, his vision of lies now that daylight had exposed their truth.

She was too disgusted to leave him with parting words.

She ran until she finally reached the light, shutting the door and locking herself in her room.

She gazed at the bright blue sky, as if mocking her.

Because she knew better than anyone, that the night would always come for her.

#alfons sylvatica #ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil alfons #ikemen mc #ikevil mc #ikevil oc #ikevil alfons sylvatica #this robin is COOKED #anyway I've had this saved for 6 months but this weekend I became Serena so it's poetic

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