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otome-on-the-side · 4 years

Text

Comfort

Accommodation

Mammon/GN!reader

Fluff

Ao3 Mirror

[Part 1] [Part 2]

The next time Mammon finds you in his room again, weeks have passed since you woke up to a “monster” in your bed. It’s late in the afternoon; He’d gotten off work early, the shoot going stupidly smooth for some rookie photographer. Said rookie was overjoyed to have the opportunity to photograph him, The Mammon, in this upcoming line.

He was tired, despite all the lavish (and unfounded) praise he’s been plied with during work. He wasn’t looking forward to a very likely reshoot.

He’d been working hard the entire week, and had worked late the previous night at Hell’s Kitchen to cap off his exhaustion. He was trying to save up for something he’d seen you eyeing in the shopping district; you didn’t have particularly expensive taste, but between Lucifer and those witches bleeding him dry, saving any amount of money was incredibly annoying. Mammon was more than ready to roll into bed as he dropped his bag onto his bedroom floor.

When he pulled back his comforter, His heart nearly stopped.

Seeing you, tangled in his sheets and cuddling up to his pillow like it was a lover- arms wrapped around it, face partially buried in it, the utter picture of contentment-

He was torn between annoyance and shame to find that he was jealous of his own damn pillow. Mammon channeled said annoyance and indignation over said shame to steel his resolve.

“Hey.” Being all cute and sleepy wasn’t going to keep him from waking you up again.

You cracked open a single eye.

“Move over.”

You closed your eye again, managing a confused, displeased grunt in response.

“Hey,” He gently shook your shoulder. “Don’t give me any of that, you’re the one who crawled into my bed. Scoot. ‘M tired too, ya brat.”

“ ‘M not a brat,” you defend yourself as you rolled over a smidge. Mammon’s bed was huge; the other half was perfectly empty and gave the demon more than enough room to stretch out.

Mammon then proceeded to jump over you, onto bed with a clear lack of effort. He bounced once, twice, before settling in and obnoxiously starfishing with a pointed yawn.

You turned over to look at him, peering over your pilfered pillow. “Long day?”

“Mmnh. Got some newbie photographer who was too star-struck to take pictures right. ‘M probably gonna have to do a reshoot at some point.”

“Oh.”

Mammon turned his head to look at you, squinting. “What’s with that response?”

You paused for a moment before answering honestly, “With all the odd jobs you’ve been doing lately, I thought someone was being shitty to you at work. Or you got fired.”

“Oh. Yeah, well, sorry to bore ya, but people are just as stupid at my regular job as they are at my side hustles.”

You couldn’t help letting out a breathy laugh at that. “…Side hustles?”

“Yeah! Almost all‘a ‘em are legitimate right now, too. Keeps Lucifer from draining too much of my earnings dry.”

You cuddled up to him as he spoke, and to your surprise, he kept talking as he accepted the wordless affection, turning over and draping an arm over your torso.

You must have looked shocked; Mammon very carefully didn’t move, as if trying not to spook a wild animal. “What’s that look for? You’re the one that crawled into bed and started cuddlin’ up to me,” He grumbled.

“Thank you,” you murmured into his chest, suddenly.

“Wh, what for?” Though you’d surprised him, you could feel Mammon relax; calmed by the fact that you were clearly comfortable with him holding you.

“Mm,” you paused for a moment, trying to parse what you were feeling. “For always being gentle with me, I guess.”

Mammon’s brain short circuited. That was a double entendre he really didn’t need to focus on. “Well yeah. I mean- you’re fragile. Mortal a-an’ squishy an’ stuff.”

You continued, determined to finish your thought. “And despite that, You’ve never lost control around me. You’ve never used the fact that you’re a powerful demon- one of the most powerful demons in the devildom- to actually terrorize or harm me. You talked big when we first met, but it was just that: talk. No grabbing me by the neck, no causing me to fall and sprain my wrist. No threatening to murder me for not doing something for you, no threatening to rip my heart out, no- okay well.” You paused at that point. You were ticking something his brothers had done to hurt you off with your fingers, he realized, belatedly. “Both you and Beel did threaten to eat me.”

“Lucifer really was worried about him eating you at first, ya know,” Mammon countered.

“Whether that worry was justified or not is debatable.”

“It was.”

“Anyway,” you were on your seventh finger at this point. “My final tick is you didn’t murder me either.”

“Oh, like it’s hard.”

You sigh against his chest in response. “He had his reasons.”

“They weren’t good ones.”

“He regrets it.” You say softly.

“Only ‘cause it was you.”

There’s a softness in his voice that almost mirrors your own, and you’re almost taken aback by its tenderness.

“A-anyway,” You ramble on, trying to keep your brain from stalling. “My point is, you have really good self-control. Even with all the stuff I put you through, you always do your best to help me. No matter what time it is, or, or if you’re busy,” You take a breath. “You go out of your way for me. You, the avatar of greed, give me presents. I’m so proud of you and how hard you work, even if your brothers don’t always notice. I’m proud to be your friend, and I care about you a lot.”

Mammon, in all honestly, didn’t know how to take this. He was deeply glad, suddenly, that your face was leaned against his chest- that you couldn’t see his eyes watering. “What’s all this about?” He asked again.

You paused for a moment. “I’ve been thinking about… stuff, recently.”

Mammon blinked.

“Stuff?” He asked.

“That group chat awhile back- the one where you and your brothers tried to speculate who I was likely to fall for- bugged me, and at the time I couldn’t figure out why. But I figured it out after the moment had passed: it pissed me off to see them count you out of the race. And I wondered why, for a bit.” You were looking up at him, carefully trying to gauge his reaction. Mammon was very carefully looking forward.

“A-and I realized all that. Like, obviously I care about all of your brothers-”

Mammon tried to swallow around the lump in his throat.

“But not. Not like that. It’s close, but different. You’ve always tried your best to be there for me, for better for worse, and I- I already said my reasoning- I love you, Mammon.”

There it was. He felt like his heart was going to stop as he leaned away to look you in the eye, voice thick in his throat as he asked,“ You, you mean that?”

You looked down, trying to keep your voice clear, concise, and rational: This was the last things you wanted him to have misconceptions on. “That I care about you in a romantic way and not like, platonically? Don’t get me wrong; I love a lot of people platonically, and I wouldn’t discount those relationships lightly. I don’t mind if you want to keep our relationship platonic either, but, yes to be clear as crystal, I, romantically, love you, Mammon. I mean it.” You sucked in a deep breath before Mammon tilted your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“I-I,” Mammon could feel his throat starting to close up. Dammit, this was not the time to bawl his eyes out. Why’d you have to tell him all this sweet shit and that you proud of him? He could have been really cool if you hadn’t hit and validated almost everything he was insecure about. How dare you?! He pressed you back into his chest, desperately hoping his tears weren’t dripping onto you. “I love you, too.”

#obey me #obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me mammon #obey me mammon/reader #second POV #text #I really do love that Mammon is a cry baby bc the game is like #only under specific circumstances can you do romantic shit w him bc if you wombo combo him like this he WILL cry #sweet sweet mammon #[will smith poses]#anyway this is done #yaaay

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raevenlywrites · 3 years

Text

Dasi High, for really reals

Finally got a first chapter I actually like!

I walked an expanse of endless sand. The night desert air carried hints of spice and stone and worried at my exposed skin with cutting cold teeth. I shivered and rubbed my arms in annoyance. This part of the dream was getting old.

But I knew that just over that dune lay a fire, and around the fire, figures danced.

Their long shadows cast out like the tails of an inverse sun, snapping and cracking like dark twins to the flames they danced around. Music made of wind and whispers pulled at me, urged me to come down, come dance, become a shadow.

I’d never once made it down to the circle.

I didn’t dream this scene every night, but I’d dreamt it often enough to be annoyed with its tantalizing tease. If I didn't’ waste so much time on the stupid sands, I might finally get to see who danced in that circle. A figure always broke off, coming to meet me half way, and though I got a little closer every time--

“It’s the top of the hour, and you’re listening to WKSR!”

I smashed my hand against the alarm clock, wishing I could hurl it into the dreamscape’s flames.

Never make a song you love your alarm tone, unless you’re ready to hate that song forever. That goes double if its from show you used to really love, but now associate with rage and dreamus interruptus and can never watch again. I flopped forcefully back against my pillow, tempted as always to just go back to sleep. What was out here for me in this world of pop songs and overly enthusiastic radio announcers?

Plenty, was the answer, and after a while the ennui of waking left me, and I rolled out of bed to wash the sand of sleep from my eyes. - “Hey.”

I looked up to see Brass standing in front of my desk, something held to his chest. Since it was neither latte nor donut, it was hard to muster interest in it this early in the morning. When he set the crusty old book down on my desk like it was supposed to mean something, I just stared up at him.

“Since when do you read?” I teased. Picking on Brass was one of the constants in my world. Sky was blue, grass was green, Brass and I bickered and teased.

He gave me a half-hearted smirk, but I could tell he was distracted. I leaned back in my chair, cocking my head in what I hoped was a sympathetic manner. This was why we hadn’t worked as a couple. Teasing I got. Real emotions? They seemed weird between me and Brass. And it was way too early for it. Best to just let him get it off his chest and get it over with.

He drew a deep breath in through his nose, reminding me way to much of all the times he’d started “a talk”. It was hard not to get automatically defensive.

“So you know how my mom runs that homeopahtic shop or whatever?”

I nodded, biting my tongue to keep from interrupting him. We’d been friends since diapers. I knew his mom as well as I knew my own. Maybe better. “Aunt” Cynthia was way cooler than my stick in the mud mom. And her shop carried some of the coolest stuff. Suddenly this rusty crusty Giles-like book got a lot more interesting.

“What’s with the Necronomicon?”

“It’s not a--“

He cut off, his mouth twisting in that sideway grimace that made his nose scrunch. I hated that I still thought it was cute. I distracted myself from it by flipping open the tome. “Tome” had a lot better ring to it. Yeah, I was liking this tome more and more.

“Apparently it’s a grimoire. Mom likes to collect them for old recipes and stuff, but this one...”

His fidgeting was enough to ruin the mystical communion I was trying to have with my cool new book. I propped my face on a fist, giving him a sort of “spill it” gesture with my eyebrows. I did a lot of talking with my eyebrows. I had expressive eyebrows, worked hard to get ‘em that way. They were kind of my signature thing now. I hoped. Too cool to speak. Talk to the brows. Yeah.

Brass wilted under my killer gaze, reaching down to flip a page in the book. I felt weirdly protective of it, annoyed that he’d dared touch it--even though it was his book. Just because he’d put it on my desk didn’t mean he was giving it to me.

“I thought you should have it,” he said, seeming to echo my thoughts. I felt immediately embarrassed and empowered at the idea. Heck yeah, bow before my cool mind powers--but ick, stay out of my thoughts. Especially since I still kind of like you. Double ick.

“Brass, what about this crusty old book makes you think I should have it?”

When in doubt, pretend you don’t want it. Lessons learned from Sassy the Cat of Homeward Bound fame.

“Cause you’re crusty old news!”

Izzy wrapped her hands around Brass’s arm, giving me her “trying too hard to be cute” nose-wrinkled grin. Brass’s nose wrinkle was better. But hers was cute, I could admit. Much easier to admit since I knew her passes at Brass didn’t mean anything. Izzy didn’t want to date him any more than I had. She’d just been smart enough to say no when he’d asked. Which made him more fun to flirt with now, I guess. I dunno. The mind of an Izzy is a mystery.

“No,” Brass said tightly, trying on the new tactic of “ignore the PDA”. Good for him. The blushing had been cute, but it made him look easy to rile. More fun to tease. Stoic man, that was the way.

“I thought she should have it because--“

“The vibes!” Dani invited themself in our conversation and I tried not to sigh. I loved my friends, I really did. We were tight, tighter than family. But now they were going to chat all through homeroom and there would be no coffee, no book, no ten minute nap. My desk had become socializing central.

“It’s the vibes, right?” Dani insisted, helping themself to my book. I let out a protest as they picked it up, but too little too late. They turned the book over and over, as if looking for a review or pricetag or something. “This thing totally has spooky vibes, just like our Ki.”

“It’s because she’s a Scorpio.” Oh great. Landon had invited himself over too. Party and Kiesha’s desk. “Scorpio’s exude a mysterious energy. But they’re secretly big cry babies.”

I stuck my tongue out at Landon-the-know-it-all, but he ignored me.

“No,” Brass insisted, taking his book back once again. He spread it out over my desk again, opening it back to that same page. It looked like a family tree. He ran a finger over the lines, indicating a very familiar name.

“It’s because it’s literally got her name on it.”

Everyone leaned in, casting an actual shadow on the page they crowded so close. It made the age-faded ink even harder to parse, but the “Kiesha” Brass had indicated was plain enough.

My book.

The urge to close it up and clutch it to my chest nearly overwhelmed me. Instead I leaned away, ostensibly to let everyone else get a better look. In truth, I hated ever looking too interested in anything. I had always been so obnoxious with my interests as a child. I never let anyone see anymore when I was really into something. Always play it cool.

But the book called to me, and the more I held myself back from it, the more I wanted to pour through its pages, discover its secrets. It was my book. It had my name on it. Fate had sent it to me.

My friend’s chattered turned to white noise in my ear. Distantly, I caught snatches of “where did you get it?” and “that’s so cool!” but all I could really hear was the pounding of my own heart in my ears. It felt like drums, dusky and ancient, and more important than anything else that might happen that day. Damn you, Brass, for giving me something so cool at the start of the school day. This was going to taunt me all day, just like that stupid fire circle.

I swooned as the beat of my heart joined the whispers of smoke and song. A hand on my shoulder made me jump. I blinked up into Brass’s concerned face.

“Ki? You okay?”

I nodded, shaky and shaken. I needed some air.

“Skipped breakfast. Could one of you snag me something from the vending machines?”

Izzy nodded and hopped off, knowing Brass would be completely distracted by concern for my well-being now. He still hovered like a protective mother hen, even though we’d broken up months ago. Talk about your brooding hero. Dani pulled Landon away and I sent a silent thank you to them for wrangling their snotty boyfriend. Landon was a great study buddy, but he had the personality of Metamusil. Good for you, probably, when you were ancient. We were too young and cool for his old man routine.

Brass crouched down by my desk so I didn’t have to crane up at him.

“Are you really good?”

I nodded, letting myself rest my head on his shoulder. Brass was a constant, weird ex or not. He’d been childhood friend longer than he’d been my... whatever we’d been, and enough time had passed that I could let myself take comfort from him again.

“Sorry about the book thing. I can--“

“It’s great.”

I cut him off before he could finish whatever he’d been about to say. I wasn’t about to let my “be cool” rule part me from my book. I pulled back to better look at him.

“I do really like it, weirdness or not. Thanks for thinking of me.”

“Of course.”

He pressed a quick kiss to my forehead, then stood and beat a retreat to his side of the classroom. Izzy came back with a Coke and some donut sticks, and I slid the book into my bag before any sticky accidents could befall it.

#raev does fic #the kiesha'ra fic #kiesha'ra fanfic #the kiesha'ra #dasi high #kiesha'ra #my writing #fanfic

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lalainajanes · 7 years

Note

Au, hybrid!Klaus meets dragon!caroline in Aspen, she hates the cold, bed sharing happens

I did not get to the bed sharing, sorry! Otherwise this would have gotten l o n g.

Under Night Sky

There were few thingsthat annoyed Caroline more than tourists. Aspen, her current home base, waslousy with them this time of year. They polluted the restaurants, the bars,every single shop in town. She supposed it was good for the economy and shedidn’t begrudge her neighbors the profits but that didn’t stop her from being irritatedby it. Even worse was that they were all over her mountain. Humans wereeverywhere, from sunrise to sunset – with a few stragglers who liked skiing inthe dark - severely limiting her opportunities to change and stretch her wings.

She was constantly restless,unable to focus, her skin itchy and tight. Even now, curled up in her favoritechair by a fire with a truly excellent smutty novel, she’s cranky. The recentdip in temperature and increase in frigid winds only shortened her alreadyfraying temper.

Seriously, the nextdrunk frat boy who tossed her a terrible line and expected his stunning wit toearn him a VIP pass into her pants might just get eaten.

Caroline took comfortin the fact that the busy season was almost over. She’d have a couple months tobreathe before the summer rush began. That one was always more tolerablebecause at least she wasn’t cold in addition to being crowded.

She tosses her bookaside in frustration, having realized that she’s been reading the same pageover and over again. She’d just been getting to the good stuff and it deservesher full attention. A quick glance out the window shows the sun just beginningto set, faint wisps or pink and orange streaking the sky. She usually makes herselfwait until it’s fully dark before setting out but maybe, just this one time, itwon’t hurt to go a little early. It was a record low for February, surely mostof the tourists had called it an early day, were tucked into lodges and cabinswith hot chocolate or wine.

She’ll just driveslowly, Caroline decides, standing up and stretching out her stiff limbs. Bythe time she gets to her spot it’ll be fine. Deserted and private, just her andthe night sky.

Later, Caroline willwonder if the decision to break her routine was among the best, or one of theworst, she’s made in her very long life.

It’s not until she’stransformed, endured the shift of muscle and bone – painful but endlesslyfreeing – that Caroline notices something’s amiss. In her human form her sensesare slightly better than average but nothing compared to her enhanced sight andsmell that comes when she’s let her dragon loose.

Her clearing, deep ina forest, further than anyone but the odd park ranger bothers to go, has beenvisited recently. She’d seen the tracks, noted that their must be aparticularly large wolf in the vicinity, had been vaguely excited at thepossibilities of a hunt. Intent on tracking it she sets her nose to the prints,lets out a startled huff as she takes it in. Another scent mingles with thewolf’s, not one Caroline knows but there issomething familiar about it.

She’s met manywerewolves, knew which bits of the legends floating were fact and what wasfiction. Transforming at will, a solid week out from the full moon, wasn’tsomething they could do. And yet, there was that distinct scent, proof that onehad managed the feat.

Caroline had neverbeen very good at minding her own business.

As much as she longsto push off, to break the treeline and soar until she’s exhausted the mystery ofthe tracks nag at her. It’s a lone wolf, she knows, incapable of being even ahint of a threat to her. She couldlet it be, make some calls later to friends who are more in the loop to satisfyher curiosity and see if some new kind of werewolf exists out in the world.

That would probably bethe prudent choice.

But prudence was so boring and it’s been forever sinceCaroline has had something interesting happen. It’s been months of hanging outin her apartment, only leaving it when she needed something, or for hersolitary flights around the mountains.

She’s following thepaw prints before she can talk herself out of it.

Caroline’s not asstealthy as she wants to be, the werewolf is large in comparison with actualwolves but significantly smaller than she is so can’t help disturbing theunderbrush around her, sending leaves rustling and snapping branches. Sheconsiders doubling back to the clearing and the clothes she’s stashed,following on foot. Nixes the idea quickly. Transforming took several minutesand her human skin was far more vulnerable than her dragon’s scales. She’d healif the werewolf decided to attack but she’d really rather avoid being bittenand scratched until she could shift and fight back and make him regretattempting to hurt her.

A little burst of fireor one good chomp would do the trick nicely.

The scent’s beginningto get stronger and Caroline knows she’s getting closer. Anticipation ishumming through her and when she pushes through a dense wall of trees andsplashes into an icy stream she lets out a huff of annoyance, making a quickleap to clear the water.

Only to be startled byan amused human laugh.

How had she missed thenaked man?!

“Finally,” he drawls,bending from the crouch he’d been in. “I’ve been waiting for you to catch up,sweetheart.”

Huh. Not the usualreaction one had, supernatural or not, to coming upon a ten foot winged lizard.Dragons were rare, knowledge of the closely guarded, and a werewolf shouldn’thave the slightest clue that things like her existed.

Maybe, Caroline thinks,tensing in readiness to take off, she should have been more cautious. He’s unnaturallystill, the slightly curled ends of his hair dripping as he studies her. Thedroplets hit his shoulders and collarbone before slipping lower, trickling downpale skin pulled taut over lean muscles.

She lets her eyeslinger on him, feels no shame in doing so. He’s not the slightest bit self-conscious,makes no move to hide any of the veryimpressive parts of his body from her gaze.

Caroline can’t helpbut appreciate his lack of modesty, mentally berates herself for it. Maybe sheshould have taken one of the frat boy’s offers. Surely, if they didn’t talk,she could make do and would be less inclined to appreciatively ogle an unknown,if attractive, entity?

Her attention shiftsback to his face when he raises his hands slowly, palms up in what Caroline’scertain is feigned supplication. Her instincts are sharp, well-honed and neverwrong. Her gut’s been the only thing that’s kept her alive a time or two ortwelve over the centuries. She knows when to fight, only does it when she’ssure she can win. Faced with the too knowing golden eyes of this stranger she’sno longer sure she’d come out on top if things got bloody.

A small part of her isintrigued. Still she eases back a step, takes a deep breath and lets out a puffof air that carries a hint of a threat, the smallest bit of smoke and flame.Not close enough to do any damage. Yet.

The werewolf’s browsrise, his full lips tipping up into a smile, “Ah, you’re exactly as advertised.I’m suitably impressed though I assure you I mean you no harm.”

This time her snort isdistinctly disbelieving and he has no trouble parsing her meaning. He nods aconcession, “Yes, I admit that luring you deep into the woods looks suspect.Would it help if I mentioned your friend Bonnie sent me your way?”

It’s a surprise but itdoes the trick. Caroline relaxes slightly though she maintains the distancebetween them. She’s known the Bennett witches for a very long time, Bonnie, thenewest of the line was a good friend, bright, loyal and more powerful than sheknew. Caroline was quite fond of her, trusted her more than most people.

He drifts a stepcloser, palms still slightly raised, his tone warm and beseeching. “Why don’tyou change back, love? So we can make introductions properly. Discuss a bit ofmutually beneficial business.”

That earns another gutturalnoise, a swift denial and she takes her own step away. Did he think she was anidiot? Caroline was tough to kill but that hadn’t stopped people from tryingover the years. Worse were the idiots who thought to imprison her, the ones whoknew how valuable her blood and scales and teeth were. They’d always attemptedto strike when she was in her human body, when her strength and speed weremanageable, her claws not nearly as sharp.

She reaches out withone, the tip lethally pointed and more than capable of gutting him, and scrawlsout a symbol in the snow. It’s the logo of a bar in town and if he’s not smartenough to figure it out Caroline doubts any business he pitches will be worthher time. He studies it for a second before nodding genially, “Tomorrow? Say, 8o’clock?”

Caroline jerks herhead in acknowledgement, stretching her wings and preparing to push off. Hiseyes light up, turning molten and hot, a greedy fascination clear as they takeher in. “I’ll be there,” he murmurs.

She’s in the airbefore he can say anything else, high above the tree line with only a fewpowerful flutters of her wings. He remains still, getting smaller and smallerbut Caroline somehow still feels his gaze. She does her very best to ignore thewarmth building in her. Her gut told her those eyes of his were dangerous, thatskipping town might be her best option. That he was more than he appeared. Shereaches for reason, for cold rationality, but finds it hard to grasp.

She curses herrestlessness, her often over active imagination. She wants to know what color hiseyes turn when his wolf’s safely tucked away, if the impact of them on her bodyis the same.

Tomorrow she’ll findout.

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #finished my last school thing of this semester so drabbles tonight #fic on my days off this week #denielapple

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