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solomonssock · 2 years

Text

The Art of Reassurance and Reframing

My "agenda"? My "aim", you ask? Well, Asmodeus. It's always Asmodeus.

Pairing: gn!reader x Asmodeus (every brother’s closeness with you is expressed, but it’s princess Mo’s golden hour <3; no established relationship, yet, but confessions take place)

TW: some theatrics, slight suggestive content, some clinginess, toe shoe slander, snippet of Asmodeus baby talk (I cry from laughter when he does this to Belphegor in game), some possessiveness and jealously, some hurt/comfort, mentions of violence, brief use of pact, uhh I think that’s it! If anything is missing, let me know. Ty!

Word count: ~4,800

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It was nice meeting you. I had a really good time! Be safe heading home :-)

You send the text before setting your phone onto the counter, careful to avoid the small puddle forming as water droplets drip down your jacket sleeve. As much fun as your date had been tonight, the downpour had cut your plans short. You're home much earlier than you anticipated and admittedly, a little bummed out. You had been pretty excited to scope out the pastry shop they swore was one of, if not the best, in your area.

It's too bad, you think, as you shrug off your jacket.

You hang it onto the back of a nearby chair to dry, pointedly ignoring any mess that might be accumulating on the floor in favor of changing into drier clothes.

You grab your phone before heading into your room. As you plug it in to charge, a notification pops up that causes you to smile and shake your head softly.

Home safe! Thanks for coming out with me, I really had a good time. And if it's not weird or anything, I would like to hang out again! We can go to the cafe I mentioned, and maybe you can show me a place you like?

Ah! Sorry to text you if you never planned on seeing me again, that's totally fine! You were just...a lot cooler than I expected

Your friend gave you a head's up about your date's social anxiety, but that didn't trouble you at all. In fact, they were quite charming once they stepped out of their shell. Never had you met someone so devoted to the art of restoring furniture that they upholstered nearly every piece in their home. Even going so far as to woodwork new legs for the pieces they had collected when dumpster diving. It was cute how passionate they got about their interests, and how intently they had listened to yours. You haven't had a conversation like that in some time, not since...

You snort to yourself, lips curling upwards as Leviathan comes to mind.

Sounds like a plan, I'm already thinking of a place or two I'd love to show you. I'll let you know when I'm free next week!

You send the text back in record time, not giving them a chance to spiral into a bout of overthinking. You'd mastered the art of reassurance and reframing during your time in the Devildom.

Your eyes flicker over to the clock and you sigh through your nose. You still have about another two hours before one of the brothers will check in with you. You suppose while you wait in the meantime, you could watch a movie or mess around with the games still downloaded on your D.D.D.

You walk over to your dresser, pulling out a pair of pajamas to change into. Once you're finished, you throw your damp clothes into the hamper and move to open your sock drawer. Although it serves little use here, your D.D.D. can still send and receive calls and texts. This little blessing, however, soon became a point of contention during your first week back.

You rub at your temples as you recall how your D.D.D. began to ring at odd hours with creative excuses as to why it was absolutely necessary for you to pick up the phone at four in the morning.

"Wait, wait, don't hang up! C'mon human, you're my lucky charm. Ya gotta tell me what I should call, red or black? I got 10,000 grimm riding on roulette, but no pressure! Go with yer gut."

"What?! No! You can't go yet! I haven't even told you about what happened to Mammon when Solomon and I caught him trying to pawn off one of his tools! Oh, won't you stay on a bit longer with me? You don't have Devilgram out there, so how else am I supposed to keep you updated on all things Mo?"

"H-hey, you can't go to sleep now! I've been trying to plan out my panel attendance order for the convention, but no one gets how important the sequence is like you do! S-speaking of events I need your opinion because there’s a TSL group meeting on Saturday, but the Dreaddit House of Sorrow Fanclub Meetup is scheduled at the same time. So now I don’t know if -"

"I was eating a burger and thought of you...are you making sure to eat over there? Ah, good I'm glad. Oh, that sound? No, it's just my stomach. I got hungry thinking of the human realm food you've been sending pictures of. Could you send a recipe or two? Satan promised to recreate some if I stay away from the cat food he hides in his room. Yeah, I tried it. Hmm, it was actually pretty tasty."

"If you fall asleep on me now, I'll just have to visit you in your dreams. Who cares if I'm yawning? I'm always yawning. I want to talk to you, so tell me about your day. A botanical garden at night? Was it as nice as ours? Just different...hm, I guess it wouldn't be too bad if I got to see it with you. Human world fireflies don't suck up light, right? Then what do they eat?"

"Don't worry, I took care of Mammon; he won't be calling you anymore tonight. Oh, I didn't harm him, we just had a talk. No, no, I'm not upset anymore. Speaking with you calms me down. Are you enjoying the book I sent you? I'm relieved to hear it. What do I think? Well...I find myself thinking of the lead often. They sit by the ocean every day, at the same time, waiting for their lover to return. After 5 years, it seems illogical to believe they'll just appear one day. Yet, I think I've come to understand that sort of irrational thinking. Ah, what am I doing? I'm just as bad as Mammon. You're tired; I'll take my leave."

"I've handled the matter, so please get some rest. How did they take it? Hmph, surprisingly well when they realized how they've exhausted your patience. I sound tired? Your patience is not the only one which has been exhausted this week. Yes, things have been going well. Diavolo remarked earlier this evening that the Devildom has dimmed in your absence; I am inclined to agree with him."

To preserve peace within Lamentation and give you breathing room, Lucifer forbade his brothers from contacting you at unreasonable hours or at unreasonable rates. With your input, he established a strict calling schedule: three nights a week set aside for a private call with one of the seven brothers.

But not a day has gone by without someone messaging you. Even Solomon continues to contact you through your D.D.D. despite having your human world number.

He had caught you by surprise earlier, calling you while you and your date were halfway through dinner. Although the timing wasn't ideal, you should have expected it. You haven't checked your D.D.D. all day and someone was bound to over speculate the reason why.

You pull the device out from under the socks you've tucked it between for safe keeping and raise a brow in concern as the screen turns on.

A stack of messages from the group chats is nothing out of the ordinary. But 16 texts from Asmodeus alone is a bit excessive.

Heeey!!

C'mon cutie, don't ignore me

Ugh, you don't have your D.D.D. on you, do you?

I can't stand it! Answer me as soon as you get back!

I hate that you're so far!! I'm so worked up that I walked all the way up to your bedroom door before I remembered you're not here...

I was so gonna scold you!

You know more than anyone I hate being neglected like this, especially by you <3

It's no fair! If you don't answer me, I'm gonna barge into the castle and demand they let me go check on you.

Ok, I'm totally bluffing. There's no way Lucifer would let me reach the castle to ask Diavolo anyway!

But, it's my job to protect you...

I mean a little punishment wouldn't be too bad, right? It sounds kind of exciting!

Aren't you honored a beauty like me would risk it all for you?

We finished dinner and now I'm tucked into bed, but I'm freezing under the covers without you beside me to keep me warm.

What am I supposed to do, MC? My most precious person won't acknowledge me, I'm heartbroken...

You have to take responsibility for this!

I miss your voice.

You roll your eyes at his theatrics but can't stop the smile that tugs at your lips. Asmodeus could be frustrating at times, but you miss him.

You chuckle as you recall countless memories of him barging into your room, insistent on spending his allotted quality time with you. How if you couldn't indulge him right away, he'd lounge on your bed, scrolling through his D.D.D. until you were done studying.

He could be even worse than Mammon when the mood struck, but you can't deny the pride that puffs up in your chest as you acknowledge how content he is just to be in your company. It feeds your insatiable heart, gluttonous for the selfish satisfaction that thrums in your veins whenever you hold his attention.

You feel it coursing through you now as you reminisce about late-night cuddles shared beneath his room's rosy canopy, face mask slipping off as you laugh uncontrollably at his nightly facial exercise routine. You reminisce about the way he'd cling to you as you walked to and from school and how he would hang off your arm, fingers pressed against plush lips, when he couldn't hold back his laughter.

If you picture it for long enough, you can still feel the phantom touch of his hugs. Lithe arms embracing you, pressing your body against his as his head comes to rest into the crook of your shoulder...

You sigh, dragging a hand down your face.

Ok. You really miss him.

Warmth blossoms in your chest as your eyes scan over the texts again. Even realms apart, he still makes you feel adored.

I'm not ignoring you, Mo. I was just busy today. Are you doing alright?

No sooner than you send the text, a call comes in. You click to accept it before holding the receiver up to your ear.

"Hey Mo, wha-"

"You love me, don't you?!"

You pause for a moment, trying not to laugh as his petulant tone crackles through.

"Course I do."

"Then, where were you all day? No one could get a hold of you, and you wouldn't answer anyone's texts. I mean I get it when it comes to the others, but to not answer my texts! How could you?" You can hear him shuffling around, a slight splash of water following the movement.

"Asmodeus, are you taking this call from your bath?" You feel his sigh roll through the receiver, puffing up against your skin.

"Don't try to change the subject. You're the reason I'm in here, you know? Stress damages the skin! I had to calm down somehow." Continuous splashing only accentuates the image of him building in your mind, frantically gesturing at you before crossing his arms with a pout.

"I'm sorry I got you all worked up. How can I make it up to the lovely princess Mo?" You bite your lip as his infectious giggle tinkles in your ear.

"Well," his tone turns coquettish, "you could start by telling me what you're wearing?" The question drags an exaggerated groan out of you, but it's all in good humor.

"Are you aware of how insufferable you can be?"

"Yes," he gloats, "but that's when you admire me most!" A stupid grin plasters itself to your face, one you picture him to be wearing too.

He's right.

Over the time you've spent with him, you've come to find his forwardness more silly and endearing if anything. He's made it too easy for you to be carefree around him, and if he asked it of you, you'd bare to him the darkness locked within your heart without batting an eye.

"I'm in pajamas." You offer him a bite.

"Aw, cute! I'm wearing nothing." He takes it and swallows it whole.

"Yes, I think we've already established that." You snicker at the huff he lets out.

"It would be way more interesting if you had worn something into the bath with you." You laugh into the transmitter.

"Like that one time you came back from partying with succubi after finals! You were so drunk I thought you were going to strut straight into the shower with your pretty high heels on." A slight squeal has you pulling the receiver away slightly.

"Aaah, so you do remember the red bottoms! Oh, oh! Darling, can I confess something about that night?" The water sloshes back and forth in the background with his excitement.

"Mhm, what is it?" You hum.

"I actually changed into those before I came home. The pair I left with got stomped on at the club and looked so gross!" He lets out an exasperated sigh.

"It's a pity that some demons have no rhythm, but it's unforgivable that they have no shame ruining the dance floor for everybody. I mean, so many people came out to celebrate me and I had to greet them like that! Can you believe it?!"

Some more sloshing spills through the receiver, but it sounds more like he's wading through the water than disturbing it.

"What an embarrassment! There wasn't a hope in hell I'd let you see me like that." You hear him shudder.

"So, I stopped at a late night boutique and when I saw the red bottoms I just knew I had to buy them. After all, you're the one who said they would look gorgeous on me!" He pauses for a moment, a loud splash sounding, before he speaks again.

"I've only ever worn them that night," the lilt of his voice makes warmth rush to your cheeks.

"Just. For. You," he teases. "Did I look good?"

"You looked like you always do, " you mumble. But he catches on quick.

You've caught him alone in his room once, and only once, with tears prickling his glassy eyes, shaken and unsure of himself. You didn't know where you stood with the demon you had only recently formed a pact with at the time, but you pushed down your apprehension, refusing to leave his side unless he pushed you away.

But, he never did.

So, you stayed. Bracingly conveying to him all the ways you found him to be breathtaking inside and out. You can recall the alarming rate at which your heart palpitated as he curled up into you under the covers, his tears dampening the shirt beneath your RAD uniform as he sobbed into your chest. It was daunting to toe the line of a confession you weren't ready to deliver, especially to a demon just beginning to respect you. But your desire to soothe his self-doubt had won out.

You regret nothing. You two have been inseparable since.

"Then what a sight I must have been." He sighs, dreamily, tearing you away from your thoughts. "Lucky you!”

A wicked little idea comes to mind.

"I have something to confess too." You suppose you'll play along some since he wants to be such a tease tonight. Tired of standing in front of your dresser, you go lay down on your bed.

"And that would be?" You hear a door open and shut, confirming that bath time is indeed over.

You fake a deep sigh. He seems to be ruffling through something that you suspect to be his wardrobe.

"Today, I tried on something new. Agh, it's a bit embarrassing, Mo. I've...never felt this bold." The sound stops for just a moment.

"Oh." What sounds like hangers clatter in the background.

"There's no need to be shy! You know you don't have to hide anything from me. No matter how depraved you might seem to others, everything, well - you - will always be endearing to me."

You almost feel bad for starting this anticlimactic buildup...almost.

"You swear you won't think differently of me?" Immediately, he lets out a cry of indignation.

"Oh, never! If anything, I'll only fall for you more."

"Ok..," you pause for dramatic effect, "Today...I wore toe shoes. It took some time to get used to each toe pocket, but my feet have never felt so free!"

"Very funny, dear," Asmodeus mocks. "But seriously don't even joke about those things, just ew! Your feet deserve so much better, you shouldn't disrespect them like that. What would you even wear with those abominations?!"

He cuts you off before you can reply with something stupid.

"Don't you dare say cargo shorts and a t-shirt! I forbid you from ever wearing such a fashion disaster!" Yeah, there's no stopping the laughter that peels out of you.

"Forbid me?! They can't be that bad." Again, he sighs.

"Darling. If you truly love me, promise you won't wear something so treacherous." You finally begin to calm down, taking in shallow breaths.

"I promise, cross my heart!"

"Good."

You hear what you think is the phone being plopped onto the bed before there’s more shuffling, albeit further away this time. It lasts more than a moment or two, so you figure he's changing. Surprising, since he sleeps in the nude whenever you're not with him.

"I can't say I'm not disappointed. Here I was thinking I would get to hear about you trying on something more," he hums a coy little tune, "fun."

"You know I'd adore you in anything that makes you feel confident," he purrs. "But something cute and risqué like that should only be seen by me."

You can't place it, but something about his tone doesn't sit right with you. Shifting up on your bed, you recline back onto the pillows holding you up against the headboard.

"And who else would have seen it?" You scoff.

"Hmm, I wonder. Oh, what about that human you went on a date with today?" Your mouth parts in shock.

Oh, indeed. You feel your heart drop as his tone twists into something sour.

"How did you...?" It hits you, your call with Solomon. You sigh, for real this time, running a hand up and down your thigh as you try to process how to best explain this to the impassioned demon.

"How much did Solomon tell you?"

"Enough." You can hear the slight waver in his voice.

"Is that why you sent me all those texts today?" He's silent, but you hear a slight sniffle.

"Have you mentioned this to the others?" Your chest freezes at the thought. You don't want this to get out of hand. The last thing you need is a livid horde of demons, or worse, crows, appearing at your doorstep.

"No." You breathe a sigh of relief. Ok, you can fix this.

"Not yet. Can you imagine how it's going to break their hearts?" He laments.

"Leviathan nearly summoned Lotan on me this afternoon when I asked him to switch days with me this week. He'll set him on that human the minute he finds out, you know?"

A snarl rips through the speaker, sending sparks down your spine. You try to say anything to calm him down so you can explain, but you can't get a word in.

"It's not like me to get so angry, but I can't stand the thought of some filthy human putting their hands on you and dirtying your beautiful skin. Hah, I could just-" Your heart speeds up when you hear what sounds like the rapid flapping of wings.

"You belong with us." He hisses. "We never should have let you go back there! Ugh, I won't let anyone take you away from me!" Petulance dips down into a deep, dark growl. A low rumble drones in your skull and buzzes beneath your skin; the work of Asmodeus's infernal curses that no human ear can decipher.

"You are the only being in all three realms I love more than myself." It's not the first time he's said this, but this time it feels different.

"I won't share you with some stranger who has the gall to approach you! You're mine." You feel your brows jump up as the word leaves him with a snarl. You've never heard Asmodeus so wound up.

"I'm...yours?" The words tumble out before you can stop them.

"Yes, my precious little human," he croons at you and your heart leaps in your chest from an emotion you can't place just yet. Somewhere between hope and concern, you think.

"And I'm yours." Your mindless repeat seems to abate some of his hostility. As his admission sinks in, your skin begins to flush everywhere.

"Mo-"

"Mm, maybe I should request to go to the human realm after all so I can bring you home," his cold clipped tone makes your body shudder from the conflicting sensations he plucks from you, unable to keep up with his favor and fury.

"I don't blame you, dear. Of course someone would come to adore you during your time there. Who wouldn't? You even managed to woo me!" The flapping doesn't stop, but it slows down considerably.

He sucks in a shaky breath before he robs you of yours.

"What do they offer you that I haven't, that I can't?" He spits the question out, voice warbling.

"You told me that I was enough for you as I am. Did that mean nothing?" You need to stop this before it escalates further.

"Asmodeus, listen to me. I need you to calm down."

Even through the phone, your authority carries over and activates your pact. You place a hand on your chest, taking deep breaths yourself as Asmodeus's panicked breaths finally mellow out. He'd only ever sounded that shaken up that one night, long ago.

"Yes, I did go on a date with a human today." Another frustrated snarl rips through the speaker, but you push forward despite how your body screams at you to flee.

"But, I have no romantic feelings towards this person. I went on a blind date with a friend's coworker. They've only been on one or two dates before and were nervous to re-enter the dating scene - that's it. We are only acquaintances, maybe we'll become friends, but I promise you that's it."

You can't help but fiddle with your pajama shirt as he stays silent, your head racing with the revelation that the flirtatious demon's teasings have meant more than you let yourself believe.

It excites you, makes your heart thud against your ribcage, and your chest feels as light as a feather. But, it also terrifies you. The weight of the words wears you down, tipping you over the line you've toed for so long, completely unprepared for the fall.

He can try to suppress them, but Asmodeus's muffled sniffles resonate through the receiver and claw at your heart.

"You're someone, I mean you, I love you more than anyone in the three realms, worlds, too." You start, cursing at how you fumble your words.

You grip your shirt tighter as his breath hitches.

"I meant everything I said then, that night, and now - I mean I still mean it now. You were right, I admire you, adore you, even. My life here in the human realm, world, whatever, it's fine. But even with the sun shining on everything, it feels dimmer here than it was when I was in the Devildom with you."

You're starting to put all the pieces together as the words fall out of your mouth.

"I hate that I made you feel this way. I didn't mention it because I didn't think it was important, that it was something that would matter to you. Demons are vying for your attention all the time; humans aren't for mine."

"Those demons don't matter." He finally speaks, voice soft. "The only being whose attention I want is yours. My heart can't take the thought of someone taking your eyes off me. I need you to see me."

You take a deep breath.

"I do see you, Mo. You have always been enough, and I'm sorry that my actions caused you to think differently. I've missed your voice too, you know?" You feel pressure building up behind your eyes as tears start to form. He really wants you. You want him to know you've wanted him too.

"I-," your voice cracks some.

"I think about you guys all the time. I think about you all the time. Whenever I have a cupcake at a party, I wish I could share it with you. Whenever I go shopping, I think of what you might like best. When I watch movies, I wish that you could be there on the couch sitting next to me. When I crawl into bed, I wish I could curl up with you. I just wish that I was with you. Even right now, I wish I could hug you and tell you this face-to-face." You wipe at your eyes, unable to hold back the pure love you have for this utterly ridiculous demon.

"I-I love you too, Mo. Seriously, I see you." The feelings hidden behind sweet little jabs or subtle teases aren't enough for you two anymore.

"Why can't you be here right now?! It's not fair!" Asmodeus whines into the phone.

"Solomon said you sounded like you were having such a good time. I love hearing you're happy, but it hurts when you're not happy because of me."

You sniffle, chuckling into the phone.

"Silly, I'm always happy cause of you. Even right now, I mean yeah I'm crying, but I'm really happy."

"Oh, that's it! I really need to come see you as soon as possible. I'll beg Lucifer if I have to! I can't let all those tears dry out your skin. Make sure you drink water - I'll be furious with you if you let yourself wake up with a headache tomorrow."

"Can you show me how you do that face thing again, when you come?" Tension begins to fade from your tired muscles. Finally, things feel fine again.

"You shouldn't underestimate the wonders of facial reflexology and its endless benefits! Wait - are you seriously laughing? You stop that! Ugh, oh I'll show you when I get there alright!"

Actually, things are way better than fine.

You glance over to the clock as you feel your eyelids begin to droop and wonder how three hours passed by so fast.

You’re still on the call with Asmodeus, catching up on what’s happened in the house and what the rest of his plans are for this week. Planning his trip to the human world has now moved to the top of his agenda.

"Hm, darling? Are you alright? You're too quiet."

"Yeah, Mo. Jus'shleepy." You can feel yourself fading out, head drooping back onto the headboard.

"I guess it's time to say goodnight."

Tired as you are, you can't fight the blush that rises as Asmodeus begins to make obnoxious kissy noises into the phone.

"Aah, I mwiss you so much my pwetty wittle huwman. So sweepy."

"Asmodeus, please. Anything but the baby talk!" You groan in embarrassment.

"Sorry, darling, I couldn't help myself. You sound so precious. Mwah, I love you and I promise you'll see me soon."

"Yes, see you soon. G'night, love you." You end the call, getting up to go put your D.D.D. to charge. A notification startles you as you drift along in your sleepy stupor.

You crack a small smile as you click on it, opening your chat with Asmodeus. He's sent you links about facial reflexology and the importance of doing skin tightening exercises.

Brush up on it, beautiful. You will have a set routine by the time I'm done with you!

#Asmodeus is only second to Diavolo is my endless brain rot #Asmodeus lovers we ride at devildom’s dim dawn #Forgive the amount of italics they were necessary #That night you confessed all these things to Asmodeus amounted to the onset of a courtship in his mind that’s why he’s absolutely destroyed #Given my personality and humor Asmodeus is someone I would be very comfortable with #I want everyone to be able to enjoy him as much as I do #n the most recent event I lost it when he said “There’s not a hope in hell [heart emoji]”#Third funniest brother on my list #I also never mention this but I leave the relationships semi-ambiguous so whether you’re poly or not enjoy to your heart’s content #Asmodeus x reader #Reader x Asmodeus #Obey me x reader #obey me reader #obey me reader insert #Obey me asmodeus #Obey me mammon #Obey me beelzebub #Obey me leviathan #Obey me satan #Obey me lucifer #Obey me solomon #Obey me thirteen #Obey me diavolo #text fic #obey me #obey me one master to rule them all #gn reader #omomtrta #asmodeus x y/n #secret note: not sure how I feel about this fic but its the only one that i've ever teared up writing

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sp4rrowdoll · 1 year

Note

Then, as common courtesy, they raw dog each other to take out the frustration and anger. Trust me , I’m a certified gamer.

Anon I am respectfully dipping you and then kissing you on the mouth. Yes this, exactly this, and this followup also inspired me so much that I got possessed and then wrote a whole fic for you--bon appetite!

Consolation Prize

m!Robin/m!Kylar (f!reader offscreen); read on ao3 here

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Robin asks as he follows Kylar down Danube.

He usually tries to stay away from this part of town—the nicer part—and shivers crawl up his spine as he watches the bland same-facaded mansions pass them. Kylar seems at ease here, or at least as relaxed as he ever gets—which is not much. Kylar is a lump of a guy wrapped in several layers of raw, chihuahua-esque aggression, and Robin has no idea how you put up with him. In all his fantasies of the little house the two of you would have once you finally escape this shitty town, he did not peg the dog the two of you would own as a chihuahua. But apparently you're enough of a chihuahua person to enjoy spending time with Kylar, so go figure.

Robin wouldn’t say he hates chihuahuas, but he’d never pictured himself as ‘a chihuahua guy’. But then he did agree to come all the way out here with Kylar, so what does he know?

Kylar kicks at a rock in the road, and then crosses the street. Robin follows, and tries not to feel like he’s making a huge mistake. The house they’ve stopped in front of is large, larger than the orphanage, the temple—it’s even larger than the school, which is the only large building Robin spends any time in. He shivers. The house even has a front garden, hidden behind a high wall and iron-barred gate. It’s like something out of the rom-coms he watches with you.

He hisses quietly in disbelief as Kylar stops right in front of the heavy padlocked gate.

“Man, what the fuck—I agreed to game with you, not break into someone’s house!”

Kylar turns and stares at him with those unnerving green eyes, and Robin shivers again. Then Kylar pulls a silver key out of his sweatshirt-sleeve and leans forward to lift the padlock. “I live here, idiot.”

He mutters something to himself as he slots the key into the lock, but Robin can’t quite make it out over the utter shock that’s filled him. It might have your name in it, but it also might not—he can’t tell.

Kylar lives here—and yet still gets treated like a freak at school. It makes absolutely no sense. Kylar’s shoulders are still hunched up beneath his sweatshirt as he swings the gate open and begins to make his way up the path. Robin’s grip tightens on the messenger bag he carries his games in, and he swallows. His pace is slow as he follows after Kylar—it feels like at any moment some servant with a posh accent is going to leap out of the bushes at him and tell him he’s not supposed to be there.

The inside of the house is just as glamorous and perfect as the outside, and Robin winces as Kylar’s dirty sneakers scuff across the perfect polished floors. He tries to limit himself to walking precisely in Kylar’s footsteps, breathing as little as possible—he doesn’t want to leave a single mark of his presence here, because the fact that he’s here at all feels—so wrong.

The feeling of wrongness drops away immediately once they’re inside Kylar’s bedroom. Robin wouldn’t call himself fastidious, but Bailey demands a certain level of cleanliness—and this room was the poster child for everything Bailey wouldn’t tolerate. He takes in the black walls and closed curtains, piles of dirty laundry, emo decor, and strange pungent smell, and winces. The only clean surface in the room is the bed, with clean, crisply folded sheets, and Kylar waves a hand at it.

“Sit.” He digs into the avalanche of clothes in front of the tv screen and entertainment cabinet across from the bed, and pulls out a second controller. “So we’re going with the terms we agreed on before, right? Winner gets to fuck—” Robin squawks indignantly—that wasnt the language they’d used before—Kylar rolls his eyes and continues, “fine, ‘sleep with,’ her tonight. I still don’t know why you’re objecting to it, we both know what we want to do to her.”

Robin sniffs. “It’s the principle of the thing. Also that word gets tossed around a lot when it comes to her—I don’t think she’d like it if we were doing the same thing.”

Kylar snarls something under his breath, and Robin suddenly feels like he made a mistake actually following through with this. It’d be so easy to hide a body in a house this large.

“Fine. Let’s get going—we only have another two hours before she’s done with her shift, and if neither of us are where she expects us to be, she’ll probably get suspicious.”

“Right. Yeah. I still think it’s creepy as fuck that you’ve memorized when all of her shifts end, but what do I know?” Robin remembers something, “Oh, and also the loser fucks the winner.”

Kylar looks up from plugging in the new controller. “What the fuck?”

Robin shrugs. He and Kylar didn’t share the same swim class, but he’s heard a few things and—sue him, he’s curious. Also he wants to know what you see in him, since the guy looks like he’s dirty enough to invent a new disease every week—and also he’s never been with a guy, and he’s pretty sure the last time you slept over in his room you muttered something about wanting a threesome, so really this seemed like a good idea all around. Testing the waters, so to speak.

Kylar blinks. “Fine.” He scratches his head. “I guess. I just don’t understand why—”

Robin interrupts, tangling his fingers together awkwardly. This whole mess was so fucking awkward. “I figured it would help, um, relieve tension. So whoever loses at least isn’t also...frustrated too.”

“It’s not—not a terrible idea,” Kylar finally allows after a moment of silence. Then he chucks the controller at Robin, and Robin winces at the sting when it smacks into the hand he raised to protect his face.

“Let’s get started, shall we?”

The game doesn’t last long. Robin kicks Kylar’s ass in every conceivable way—Kylar’s decent, but he’s not good, and Robin is the best. After the first game, Kylar demands a rematch, and Robin shrugs. He beats Kylar a second time. Then a third. After the fourth, it’s just embarrassing, and Robin begins to glance at Kylar out of the corner of his eye. Kylar’s face is creased in concentration, and it’s gained an angry red flush. Sweat is beading along his brow, and sticking his messy bangs to his face.

Robin decides to be magnanimous and calls it there.

Kylar is practically snorting with rage, like a cartoon bull, and Robin winces. After the first game, he’d actually been trying to take it easy on the guy—and it didn’t help at all. Robin sets the controller down, and offers his hand.

“Hey, good game—” He’s cut off by Kylar’s hand grabbing at his hair, and what he thinks is a kiss. There are a lot of teeth involved. Granted, he’s not had much experience with kisses beyond yours, so maybe this is a normal amount of teeth. Then his lip starts to bleed, and he finally manages to wrest himself away.

“What are you—” Kylar interrupts him again, but this time with actual words.

“I want my prize.” His hands are scrabbling at Robin’s shirt, and Robin begins to unbutton it as quickly as he can—he can’t exactly afford to replace it right now, and Kylar’s angry enough that he might rip it into tiny pieces. Kylar backs away, and pulls his hoodie off. He’s somehow more pale than Robin, which is mildly impressive—though Robin does try to spend at least some time outside in the orphanage gardens every few days. Then Kylar starts unbuckling his pants, and Robin stops.

He can’t tell whether he’s terrified or fascinated.

He didn’t know that anyone could have a dick that big.

“What—jealous?” Kylar grins, partially mollified by Robin’s reaction to his nakedness, as he tosses his pants towards the pile of clothes in the corner. Robin’s mouth is dry, and he’s suddenly, selfishly, wishing that he hadn’t lost because at least you have practice with the monster between Kylar’s legs. The only person Robin’s ever bottomed for is you—and your strap was roughly half the size of the—fucking—thing that Kylar calls a penis. None of the porn he’s watched or read has prepared him for seeing a real dick that size.

“Jealous?” Robin whispers, horrified and transfixed by the sheer size of Kylar’s cock. Then he remembers that you’ve actually had sex with…that. “No! Dude have you—how does she—haven’t you realized you could seriously hurt her with a dick like that!” Kylar stops and frowns.

“No? I couldn’t?”

Robin looks up to meet Kylar’s eyes again, incredulous. “No? You couldn’t? Look, buddy, I’ve seen a lot—the orphanage sucks—and you most definitely could hurt her with that thing.” He rubs his hands across his face. “It’s practically designed to cause tearing and prolapse in whatever hole you stick it in.”

Neither of them say anything for a moment, and Kylar regards his cock like he’s seeing it for the first time. Robin squints at Kylar, a horrible suspicion dawning on him. “Please tell me you pay attention in science class.”

Kylar scoffs, but it sounds like he’s trying to hide slow-dawning horror beneath the cocky jackass exterior and scoff that sounds like he borrowed it from Whitney. “Of course I do. It’s the same talk every time anyway—condoms, pregnancy, STDs, whatever—”

“Oh fuck,” Robin mutters in despair, his face firmly planted in his hands. Why had he even added the stupid consolation prize in the first place. “Do you at least have lube?”

Kylar nods. “Yeah.” He pulls out a plastic bin from beneath his bed. “What kind do you want?” Of course Kylar’s the kind of freak to have a bin full of different kinds of lube under his bed. Robin paused, and reconsidered. Kylar’s the kind of freak to need a bin full of different kinds of lube under his bed. Holy fucking shit. His hands tremble as he goes back to unbuttoning his pants.

“Robin. What lube?”

“Uh.” He wants a shot of novacaine, but that’s probably not a good idea. “Whatever you’ve got.”

Kylar mutters something again, extracts a bottle, and then shoves the bin back into the festering dusty darkness beneath his bed.

Robin knows that he’s a coward, but he at least tries to keep his promises. And he’d promised to let Kylar fuck him so—his own cock twitches. At least it seems like he’s going to be into it, so at least there’s that. He shoves his pants and underwear down around his ankles, and then steps out of them. He leaves his socks on—he doesn’t really want his bare feet in contact with Kylar’s bedroom floor if he can help it, and it seems like the guy doesn’t care about his feet one way or the other.

He scoots up the bed to leave space for Kylar between his legs, and debates asking Kylar to be gentle. It probably wouldn’t do anything, so he bites down on his pathetic request before it can leave his lips. He slips a hand around his own, average-sized cock, and runs a thumb over the head, then shudders. If this is going to happen, and it is—Kylar’s expression has transcended ‘threat’ and entered ‘promise’—he might as well enjoy it.

Kylar grabs him by the ankle and flips him over, dragging Robin’s cock against the rough bedspread. He bites his split lip, and the iron tang of blood on his tongue helps ground him. This is really happening. He’s getting fucked by Kylar’s monster cock in Kylar’s nasty bedroom, because he didn’t think things through and is unfortunately gifted at video games. He closes his eyes and imagines your hand in his hair, as Kylar shoves his legs further apart.

He can’t help wishing you were here—you’d be soft and encouraging and—shit! The lube is cold! Fuck! All of his muscles go tense as Kylar just squirts lube directly onto his asshole. Then the idiot begins to rub it around the rim, like it’s lotion.

“Let me—” he grabs Kylar’s hand before he does anything else. “I hope you’ve never done anal with her, because uh—that’s not how you do this.” With a technique like that, you’ve probably never done anything close to anal with Kylar, on either giving or receiving end. Which shouldn’t send a warm flutter through Robin's chest, but it does, because it means that you only peg him. It’s something special just for the two of you, something he can cling to even if he loses the next time he and Kylar have a competition like this, and he has to listen to you fuck through the thin walls of the orphanage. Again.

Robin fingers himself open and loose like that, caught in the memory of your gentle hands and the snapping rhythm of your strap as he bit the pillow and tried not to wake anyone up with his moaning. Once he’s loose enough, he returns to the heavy sound of Kylar breathing, propped up over his shoulder, dark hair pooling on Robin’s back.

“Right,” he says, resigned. “That should do it.”

The tip of Kylar’s dick replaces his fingers, and Robin does his level best to forget everything that comes next. Mostly because the hitched moan he makes as Kylar slowly slides into him is embarrassing and hot, and if he remembers it, he might need to jack off in the shower later, and maybe he’ll start to think you were right to want a threesome, and actively start trying to plan it, and—maybe that wouldn’t be that bad.

He manages to stave off orgasm as Kylar’s hips work against his ass, flexing and drawing that huge cock over his prostate again and again and again, but it’s a very near thing. Kylar seems almost annoyed as he cums, and Robin sighs with relief and goes boneless against the bedspread, which has given him rugburn all across his chest. He really hopes Kylar doesn’t have this blanket out when you fuck him, because it stings like hell.

“Same time next week?” Kylar asks as he pulls out, cum oozing out of Robin’s poor abused asshole.

“Yeah, sure,” Robin wheezes. “Sounds good I guess.”

Time to try and get up. Robin groans, and pushes himself off the bed. His legs hurt—everything from his ankles up. Calves, knees, thighs—fuck, his thighs—ass. Both gluteus maximus and minimus, because he pays attention in science class, unlike Kylar. His arms collapse underneath him, and he decides to try rolling over instead. Kylar is just watching him, looking amused.

Robin squints in suspicion at Kylar’s satisfied expression.

“Did you just try and fuck me so hard that I can’t take advantage of my win?”

“Oh, fuck you!” he snarls, as he tries to get up again, and collapses like a newborn fawn. The door to Kylar’s room looks so far away—and then he realizes how far he has to walk to get back home, and dies a little bit inside. He’s going to need to ask for help so you don’t get suspicious.

“Other way around,” Kylar grins, and Robin grabs a pillow, shoves his face into it, and screams.

#dol #degrees of lewdity #dol robin #dol kylar #kylar the loner #robin the orphan #m!kylar #m!robin #f!reader #sp4rrow-writes #I imagine that these events repeat themselves several times until Robin is genuinely into Kylar #and Kylar's willingness to fuck Robin (in order to attempt to wear him out before he goes home to you) has pavloved him to be into robin #then pc gets to just luxuriate in the ensuring (semi) peaceful poly relationship #also immediately after the last scene robin offers to be kylar's science (sex ed) tutor so he doesn't accidentally hurt pc

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