#eat pant you shit stain you are tender and weak

[reaja]

I rly need y'all to understand that women's sport divisions only exist because girls won things and it made boys cry

[bellsarefun]

𝕯𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖈 (Dragon! Bakugo x Reader)

【ｓｕｍｍａｒｙ：(Y/N) (L/N) lives a surprisingly domestic life alongside her husband, the powerful hot-headed dragon Katsuki Bakugo.】

【ｐａｉｒｉｎｇ：Dragon! Katsuki Bakugo x Female! Reader】

【ｒａｔｉｎｇ：PG-13 — All characters featured in this story have been aged up over eighteen. Also, there is gore and blood in this, so if you are upset by that this isn’t for you.】

【ｗｏｒｄ　ｃｏｕｎｔ：2.6k 】

【Ｎｅｘｔ　Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ: Part 2】

(Y/N)’s hands kneaded soft, fluffy, pale dough on a stone counter top fitted in smooth grey stone, the flour falling like snow on her pale beige apron. Her mind wandered with the routine task; make the bread, let it rise, and then bake for one hour—she had done it all before.

Grabbing a nearby bread pan, she eased the freshly kneaded dough into the oak wood bowl. Her hands wiping the bits and pieces of stray batter on the fabric apron tied tightly around her waist. Once she had cleaned them in a nearby water basin, she laid a tea towel over the mouth of the bowl to rise for a few hours.

‘Finally, done. I can take a minute to relax.’ The woman thought to herself, untying the nice bow created by the laces of her apron. ‘Let’s hope he doesn’t get back early.’

Hanging the apron on a nearby hook near the entrance to the makeshift kitchen, she stretched her arms high over her head. Her neck muscles protested angrily as they were strained, but she smiled at the relief shooting across her form.

She looked around the kitchen, her (E/C) eyes scanning the beaten stone counter tops, the haphazardly hanging plants from the ceiling, and scratched wooden shelves for any sign of misplacement or grime. The rocky interior walls casted dancing shadows from the many flickering candles around the room.

Satisfied with her keen observation, she hummed to herself contently. Her feet spinning on their heels as she walked out of the kitchen, making a mental note to light the slab, stone oven afterward.

The kitchen lead into a larger room, large wooden support beams held up the ceiling in every corner. There was a large rounded bed pressed against the wall to her left, large furs and pelts were piled in a heap on the bed. On the farthest wall led a corridor where bright sunlight streamed through from the outside—a stairway could be seen in the corridor leading into a dimly lid spiral down.

(Y/N) noted a few of the candles had blown out in the room, presumably the breeze from outside had extinguished the weak flames. She sighed to herself, straightening out her white blouse and suspenders while she moved to a small table across from the bed.

A small green book embroidered with gold detailing waited for her on the scratched dark wood of the table. Her hands picking up the book she seated herself on one of the chairs, but she soon felt herself falling back onto the cold ground with a painful thud.

(Y/N) groaned, holding the side of her head carefully as the world spun around her in a warm blur. Her eyes managing to focus on the chair who had spitefully broken under her the moment she sat down.

“For fucks sake, of course.” She cursed under her breath, using her elbows to hoist herself up from her spot on the floor. Her hand searching for the book that had been flung from her hand, finding it a few feet away.

Looking at the chair, one of the legs had given out and the scratched up, claw-marked, and singed wood wasn’t able to hold weight any longer. It was a wonder how it didn’t break sooner.

“Fucker almost killed me.” (Y/N) voiced allowed to no one in particular, the stabbing pain in her head not receding and only increasing as she pushed herself to standing.

‘I really need to find other furniture that the ones he steals from his raids. A new set of chairs is something I’d pay money for.’ She thought to herself, running a through her hair and picking out pieces of dirt and splinters from her (H/C) locks.

A large roar shook the entire inside of the cave, the forceful vibration almost sending (Y/N) tumbling once again. The book nearly falling from her grasp, but this time she clenched it tightly in her fingers. The sound of scraping stone echoed wildly in (Y/N)’s ears, her face scrunching up at the unpleasant sound.

Her hand was quickly placed on the rocky wall beside her, watching the furniture, that had been fashioned to the wall with wires, to make sure nothing broke. ‘That bastard just had to come now.’

“Tiny! Where the fuck are you? I’m back if you hadn’t noticed.” The loud booming voice emanated from the corridor, the pissed of tone making (Y/N) roll her eyes. She scrambled to the doorway of the kitchen, her book forgotten on the table, and she checked to make sure the bread bowl hadn’t fallen off the counter—luckily, it hadn’t.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, you impatient bastard wait one minute!” (Y/N) called back to the voice, her eye brows narrowing as she noticed the plates and bowls that had fallen from their wooden shelves.

“Whaa? You calling me a bastard, you better watch your fucking mouth, human.” The voice responded sourly, the unmistakable growl that edged it’s way into the tone making (Y/N) chuckle lightly to herself.

She walked toward the corridor of the room, noting that most of the candles has blown out in the rumbling. The rocky hallway was rather small and led into a larger cave with a ceiling that stretched meters above her head. There were no stalactites, like they had been broken off purposely.

Sunlight streamed into the large cave from outside, giving it enough natural light to see around without any aid of candles or lanterns. In the corner of the cave sitting with his legs crossed, his hands tearing at the meat of a freshly killed deer, was Bakugo.

(Y/N) rubbed the back of her neck in defeat, seeing the blood already beginning to pool around the carcass of the poor animal.

“I’m here and already, you’ve made a mess.” She commented in disgust, walking over to the man as he turned around to face her—lips and cheeks smeared with thick red blood.

Bakugo swallowed the meat in his mouth, the hind leg of the deer had been ripped off the animal and was being held in his hands.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re a fucking clean freak.” He retorted, his mouth opening and taking a large squelching bite of the raw meat. “Only humans would worry about shit like this.”

(Y/N) hummed, rolling her eyes as she scanned him up and down—he would definitely need a bath after he was done his “meal.” The blood soaked into his pants and the beautiful white fur of his long red cloak around his shoulders. The red sticky ooze seeped over his toned, muscled body.

“If you’re eating all of it, just give me tender loins to cook please.” (Y/N) sighed defeatedly, the smell of raw bloody meat hitting her nostrils in an unrelenting attack of metal and gore. 

“You humans and your risk of worms.” He grumbled under his breath, his hand reached toward the back of the deer and shoved his hand into the back—through the pelt. (Y/N) winced at the sound of his hand pulling out the two strips of meat, his other hand shoving another mouthful of meat into his mouth. No matter how much (Y/N) has seen him rip flesh from bone, it still made her nauseous sometimes.

“You’re looking green, Tiny. Go back inside, if you’re going to vomit your insides out again.” Bakugo said, his crimson eyes scanning up and down (Y/N)’s pale face. His hand threw over the two pieces of tenderloin, the meat landing on the ground with a splat.

(Y/N) nodded her head silently, crouching down and delicately picking up the strips of deer. The blood was still warm in her palms and she groaned at the thought of getting the red stains on her nice blouse.

“If any of this gets on my shirt, I’m slipping laxative in your water.” (Y/N) threatened, hurrying toward the corridor once again and she heard the outraged exclamation of Bakugo behind her. 

“You better not, fucking tiny ass human. I will rip your precious books to smithereens.” Bakugo shouted after her with a growl, the woman rolling her eyes around her skull in response.

“Okay, dragon boy, let’s see you fucking try. I’ll bleach your cape pink.” (Y/N) jabbed back, calling over her shoulder at Bakugo who continued to munch on the meat. She could hear him grumbling curses under his breath and she giggled softly to herself.

(Y/N) hurried through the corridor, through the room, and into the kitchen. She could see a drop of blood preparing to fall onto the floor she zoomed toward a clean bucket and dropped the meat into it. Her palms leaned on the counter for support, for some reason the smell of the fresh meat made her feel sick to her stomach.

She sharpened a knife and began trimming the meat on the counter. It wasn’t long after she heard Bakugo come stomping through the corridor and she leaned out of the door to see the muddy tracks behind him.

“Clean your shoes off next time, I swear you lived in a barn.” (Y/N) called out, her lips frowned at the sight of the freshly mopped floors being covered in brown muck. Bakugo paused, turning around to look at the mud he was dragging through the room before he smirked deviously.

“I was raised in a cave.” He said, continuing to stride toward (Y/N) with an evil glint in his eye and her frown turned down into a scowl. “What’s wrong, Tiny? You’re looking a little pissed off.”

(Y/N) sighed and shook her head, looking at the blood still wet on his body.

“Don’t take another step, clean off the blood. We have bathing pools for a reason, dipshit.” (Y/N) demanded, pointing her sharpened bloody knife toward him. Bakugo faltered for a moment, a dangerous frown forming on his face.

“I’m not fucking that filthy. I washed yesterday, just like you asked, remember?” Bakugo retorted, his arms crossing over his chest. (Y/N) hummed at his rather adorable expression and continued flaying the strips of white fat from the meat.

“You’re covered in blood, Katsuki Bakugo, and that means your washing.” (Y/N) said, her eyes glanced down where she was happy to see that her work was pretty much finished.

Bakugo rolled his eyes and grumbled his way back toward the corridor, she was pretty sure she heard a imitation of her own voice. She simply giggled and packaged the meat in parchment paper to save for stew later and dropped any dirty dishes in the sink-bucket.

He returned a few minutes later, dripping wet and clothes in his arms. Bakugo wasn’t wearing a thing and (Y/N) noticed right away, her face turning a lovely shade of rose red.

“Okay! That’s- No clothes- Your other shirts are in the dresser!” (Y/N) said, looking away from the spectacle of a naked Bakugo. She heard his footsteps approach her and felt strong arms wrap tightly around her waist, pulling her snugly against him.

“I’ll get changed later.” He muttered against her skin, the warmth of his breath tickling the skin of her neck. “Nothing happened while I was gone?” (Y/N) was frozen in her spot, the feeling of the water dampening in her back, and her face flushing with a beautiful color of red.

“N-Nothing, the den’s been quiet as ever.” (Y/N) answered, her voice stuttering at the beginning but she managed to focus on the cutting board in front of her. “No one’s touched your precious gold horde.”

Bakugo hummed, his chin resting on top of her head, and he snuggled his face into her hair. His hands wandered about her waist, his toned chest pressing against the small of her back.

“I wasn’t worried about the gold.” He muttered quietly, the growl at the end of his voice made (Y/N)’s arms explode in goose bumps. “You smell different, tiny. Did you use the milk soap you bought a while ago?”

She paused for a moment.

“No? My smell changed?” (Y/N) asked, she had never really gotten used to the draconic abilities of her husband. Bakugo nipped at her earlobe absentmindedly, he’d always held this animalistic quality that he brought everywhere in their relationship.

“Your cinnamon smell is just different, alright? It smells like milk mixed with cinnamon.” Bakugo said, his eyes watched her hands move rhythmically as she finished up ridding the meat of any fatty tissue.

“I still don’t know why you humans are so picky.” Bakugo scoffed, shaking his head as let go of her waist and walked out of the kitchen in order to hopefully put some pants on.

“The fatty parts make the meat chewy.” (Y/N) said honestly, her eyes glanced over to Bakugo’s form but she refused to look for long—the blazing warmth in her cheeks forcing her too.

The conversation continued for awhile, (Y/N) was busily hurrying around the kitchen and chopping vegetables for the stew. Bakugo was making himself useful and watching her whisking around the kitchen from his spot sitting on one of the counters.

The stew shimmered on top of the stone oven, the bread was baking in the rocky blazing insides happily. The smell permeated the air and the warm smell making (Y/N) sigh contentedly.

“Shitty hair and pink bitch want to come over for dinner, they want to taste human cooking.” Bakugo started, the subjects of his yapping changed like the wind—it could go from hating Midoriya, to how great he is, or how he caught the deer earlier.

“Of course, I said no-”

“Why don’t you invite them over? They haven’t been over since fall, the winter’s been tough on them.” (Y/N) said, stirring the stew in the pot and sprinkling in a few herbs and spices into the shimmering pot. Bakugo scoffed.

“Hell no! They’re messier than me. That shitty hair is really fucking annoying.” He retorted, his posture straightened to a stiff board, and he muttered quietly under his breath. “He’s always touching you.”

“What is it with you dragons? Always so overprotective of your ‘mates.’“ (Y/N) sighed, looking toward her husband who huffed and shoved himself off of the counter. His shimmering ruby eyes glaring darkly in her direction, stalking over to her.

“Mates are a big fucking deal, tiny, I’ve told you this before.” (Y/N) nodded her head, her lack of listening made Bakugo snatched her wrist and pulled her roughly against his body.

“Dragons mate forever. You are mine, forever, you fucking idiot.” He growled, her smaller body was pressed flush against his. (Y/N)’s eyes widened at his serious tone, he usually wasn’t this sentimental and she expected a scoff from him instead.

Her heart fluttered in het chest, a large smile crossing her features

“I understand, Katsuki.” (Y/N) simply said, embracing her husband close to her and enjoyed the peaceful moments that followed. Two years ago, she didn’t expect to find herself here and married to the dragon that had quite rudely crashed through her house—hurting himself in the process.

For months, she nursed him back to health and somehow managed to love him in that time. Now, there they are, two years later and married. If (Y/N)’s younger self had a conversation with older (Y/N), she was sure that younger her would call her insane.

“I love you, dragon boy.” She said softly, her hand running through his spikey blond hair. Bakugo huffed and he laughed cockily.

“Who doesn’t love me?” A swift jab to the ribs made him cough and he nipped at her neck in retaliation. “Heh, I love you, tiny human.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Eye of the Storm 10

Warnings: nonconsensual sex (series), teasing, some good old grinding and power plays.

This is dark!Thor and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a new servant at the palace of Asgard but the job isn’t so easy as you thought.

Note: Well, this if officially the calm before the storm but not really because the storm is already blowing and this shit only gonna get worse from here. Let me say thank you to you all for your support for this series. Usually Thor and Loki aren’t really popular on my blog but I’ve had so much fun writing them.

And as always, @lokislastlove​ is the actual devil. 

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

When at last Loki let you rise, you felt hollow but full. Your legs were jittery but heavy. You bent to gather the blanket as he dropped the book in the basket. You dumped the folded fabric atop the rest of your load and felt a brush across your ass and stood straight.

The prince acted as if his fingers hadn't just been wandering across your rear. He was rather good at acting the innocent. You hooked your arm through the handle of the basket and choked down your anger. You suspected the more you gave him, the more he'd take.

He smirked and turned his back to you, waving you to follow him. You kept behind him, just a few steps back, and watched the ends of his dark hair that hung between his straight shoulders. He walked as if he had not a care in the world, even after his brother had gotten the best of him. Well, in turn, Loki had got the best of you.

When you returned to his chambers, his silence persisted. He shed his heavy jacket and disappeared into his bedchamber. He returned, his tunic collar open wide across his chest and untucked from his trousers. His boots had been disposed of as well and he reclined over the chaise.

"I should like to finish my book, if you could bring it here," He said at last.

You set the basket down and dug around for his book. You crossed to him and held it out. He took it, his eyes on you as he did, and rested it against his chest. His long fingers picked at the edge of the cover as he watched you.

"Shall I read to you again?" He asked coyly.

"Your highness," You uttered, "I must dispose of the crusts we did not eat and take the blanket to the laundries."

"Leave them for now," He cooed.

"And your chambers will need sweeping. Some dusting at least along the mantle." You insisted.

"Go ahead then. I am certain you can listen and clean at the same time." He took the book and opened it. "It might make your work easier... or harder, depending on your perspective."

"I do not like the story," You argued. "I'd prefer silence."

His eyes flashed and he lifted a brow as he looked to you again.

"I would prefer silence as well. From you." He said sharply. "I will not abide that tongue for much longer if you insist on impudence."

You averted your eyes and sighed quietly. 

"My apologies, your highness." You eked out.

He grinned and nodded. He opened the book then closed it. He sat up suddenly and placed the book down beside his leg as his other hand shot up, his index pointed in epiphany.

"I have devised a way to make our work more... entertaining," He said. "At least, for me."

You blinked. You knew by his tone that it would not doubt make your work more difficult.

"Take off that ugly dress." He demanded. "And the presumably stained shift you wear beneath. You may dust my chambers then... I shall try not to be too distracted from my reading."

"Your highness," You spoke between gritted teeth. "I--I..."

"Darling, would you rather I remove them myself? I fear they might not be left in a wearable state should it come to that." He warned. "So go on," He grabbed his book and laid back down. "I expect you to be about your chores by the time I am done the first page."

He propped his head up on the end of the chaise and lifted his feet up on the other. He found his place as you glared at him and begrudgingly untied your apron. Loki grinned and began to read.

'A veil of sunlight shone over her, illuminating the simple yet intricate curves of her body. She was like a statue come to life, chiseled painstakingly to perfection...'

You could not repress your spite as you undressed, one piece at a time, and when you were naked, you kept your back to him and cursed whatever tainted fortune had led you to this point.

You fished inside your apron pocket and let it fall back with the rest of your clothing. You took the cloth and went to the mantle as his voice carried through the airy chamber. You took each ornament and wiped away the few specks of dust upon them and then the shelf itself.

'Her sleepy eyes peered up at him as he held himself above her. She tasted like cinnamon as he kissed her. She grumbled but did not pull away. He felt his desire growing and soon prodding against her thigh. He needed her again. Badly.'

You dropped the cloth as you shook away the scene etched in your mind by Loki's voice. You bent to retrieve it and heard a hum. You glanced over and the prince winked at you.

"The table," He gestured to the low table that faced the chaise. "Don't forget that."

You approached the other side of the table but realised there was no where to hide; no vantage from what he would not see most of you. You kept the table between you and bent to wiped the smooth surface. He watched you before slowly turning the page and finding his spot.

'Her lips were so delicious, he wondered what every part of her tasted like. He slowly retreated, holding himself above her as he pushed himself back, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses along her tender flesh.'

Your lips parted without thinking and you gripped the edge of the table. You felt that same warmth between your legs and as you moved, you felt a dampness there as well. You turned away to hide your confusion and went to the side table along the wall, giving extra attention to the vase there.

'...And her most sacred part tasted like paradise. He delved into it without restraint. Lapped her up as her legs pressed against his head in her want for him...'

You looked around for another task and caught your foot on the leg of the table. You stumbled and crashed to your knees. You cringed and shakily climbed back up, embarrassed at your clumsiness. Loki had stopped his reading.

"Are you well, dear?" He asked.

"Quite," You lied. "Careless is all, your highness."

"Mmhmm," He purred and raised two fingers, bending them as he beckoned you close. "Come here."

You pouted without thinking. He raised his brows and you obeyed. You neared him and reached to take the cloth from you, tossing it so it landed on the low table. He grabbed your wrist and drew you closer until your legs met the side of the chaise.

"Get up here," He set aside the book and patted his stomach. "Just atop me."

"Your high--"

"What did I tell you about that mouth?" He warned. "Do not be so nervous, I am fully clothed and I mean no harm."

You pushed your tongue against the roof of your mouth in frustration. He let go of your arm and you turned, lifting a leg over him as you climbed up onto the chaise, straddling him beneath you.

His hand went to your hips and grazed your sides, sending a chill through you. He cupped your tits and let out a heady breath.

"Tell me," Loki said. "Has a man every held these before? Held you?"

You stared at the wall and shook your head. He tweaked your nipple and you looked at him.

"Answer me aloud," He ordered.

"No, your highness." You answered stiffly.

"Never?" He asked. "A pity."

He played with your tits a little longer, his eyes followed his hands. You felt something stir beneath you, just within his trousers. His hands settled on your hips once more and he led your pelvis back then tilted it forward again. You gaped at him curiously.

He rocked you again, slowly at first as he kept up the motion. Then you felt it, the way his bulge rubbed against your bud, the way your arousal spread across his pants. Your lips formed an O as you looked down at yourself and planted a hand on his stomach as you tried to stop him.

He let go of you and grabbed your wrists. He put your hands on his shoulders and held you like that.

"Move your hips, darling," His voice was low and lurid. "Don't make me tell you twice."

Your lips twitched but no protest could rise above your fear. You did as he said. You rocked as he had guided you to before. Slow, nervous, and yet each time felt better than the last.

"Faster," He urged and your brows drew together as his eyes went between your bodies. "Faster, dear."

You obeyed. Again. You felt helpless and yet it was you. You were riding him and you didn't want to stop. The heat began to swell within you and the slickness which had seeped into his trousers only added to it. It was wrong, you knew that, but you just didn't care.

He purred as you grinded against him harder and your hips picked up without thinking. You bit your lip and pushed your head back as your fingers curled against his shoulders. 

His thick breaths turned to animalistic grunts and his hand fell to your ass. He pushed you against him as he lifted his pelvis just a little, his cock rubbing through his pants against your clit. You bucked as you got closer, closer, closer.

You shuddered as you came and kneaded your ass. He snarled and swore as he squirmed and grasped your hips to slow you. He was panting as he stilled you entirely and his hands slipped down along your legs. He smiled, his eyes dilated and dazed.

"My dear maid," He slithered. "I thought you were supposed to be tidying my chambers, not making a mess of me."

🌩️

Loki didn't let you dress until he dismissed you. After his little game, he allowed you to return to your work only to resume his reading. You hated how he could make you both so angry and so entirely weak. You hated him but somehow he could make you want him. You didn't understand him or what he did to your body.

As you made your way down to the lower levels, you felt as if you were walking through water. As if every step was a struggle. You were tired, overwhelmed, and utterly perplexed. By Thor and his politics, Loki and his teasing, and yourself, more than either of them. 

You should go; get out of the palace. You thought of running away but where could you go that they wouldn't find you? Of course, they'd search the docks first and they wouldn't stop there. The king had enough guards to scour the kingdom a dozen times over and you had no gold to take you away from Asgard. And even if you did leave Asgard, where could you go?

As you turned the corner to the corridor lined with the servants’ shared chambers, you caught yourself. There was a shadow not far ahead, waiting for something or someone. It only took a moment to recognize the large silhouette.

You backed up on tip toes and felt along the wall as you retreated around the corner. Your hand caught on a handle and you pressed the lever down slowly. You eased open the door, praying the hinges didn't betray you, and slipped behind the heavy wooden barrier. You coaxed it back into place and leaned heavily against it.

You turned your back to the door and slid down to the floor. You drew your knees up and listened. The king's boots scuffed softly on the stone as he paced. He wouldn't wait all night. He couldn't. You were trembling.

You closed your eyes and lowered your head to your arms crossed over your knees. Thor's footfalls harried from patient to frustrated. You heard his breaths, almost growls, and a grumble to himself. He cursed his brother and marched away from the servants' quarters and past the closet you hid within.

You didn't dare emerge, even as his steps faded away and you were left only with the still silence of the palace. You slumped down onto your side, unknotting your apron to bunch up beneath your head, and fell into an uncomfortable slumber.

You dreams were a blur of blue and green eyes, hands reaching for your body, voices swirling in your ears. Run, run, run, but you could never hide. In the end, you would be caught. As it was, you already were.

🌩️

The next morning, you awoke with a crick in your neck, slightly disoriented by the racks of brooms and rows of buckets. You stood, bracing your sore back, and stretched with a suppressed groan. The tension had nestled between your shoulders.

Well, since you were already there. You took a broom, a pan, and a bucket. You carried your lot to the prince's chambers and left them just inside the door before you descended once more and fetched his breakfast.

Upon your return, he was awake. He stood in the bedchamber doorway as he rubbed his forehead and smiled as he saw you carrying the tray. He was unashamed of the ten at the front of his trousers or his bare torso.

"I will enjoy my breakfast on the balcony," He announced and strutted through the archway.  "It is such a lovely morning."

You followed him with a sigh and set the tray before him. You removed the lid as his eyes skimmed over the scenery of the palace yard. He took a lush berry and popped it in his mouth and chewed. He swallowed it with a contented hum.

"I have decided to work from my chambers today." He declared. "And you... will serve me as you did yesterday."

You frowned. Did he mean--

"I do hate the way that apron gets in the way," He tugged on the fabric that hung from your waist. "A woman like you shouldn't hide herself and I suspect you've done so most of your life, dear."

"Your highness," You gulped. "Out... here?"

"Trust me, darling, those below barely have the same vantage as I," He smirked. "So let's avoid the threats and this little act you have. I've seen it all already."

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. It didn't matter that he'd seen you naked before nor that he'd touched you. Not even that he'd made you feel so... delightful. It was still absolutely degrading.

You sniffed and began to undress. You left your clothing on an empty chair around the table and swallowed your shame. You looked at Loki as if you were not bare and folded your hands before you.

"Did you require anything else for you meal, your highness?" You asked.

His eyes searched your face then drifted lower. His thoughts brewed behind his green eyes and he shrugged.

"No, you may go about your usual duties. I do expect to bathe when I finish," He bid. "And you might tidy my desk before I get to work."

"Your highness," You bowed your head and turned away. 

His hand snapped across your ass, a stinging slap, and you flinched but kept on. You strode over to the broom and took it, tempted to return to the balcony and hit the prince over the head with it. Instead, you dragged the bristles over the stone.

You finished sweeping the receiving chamber as Loki appeared in the archway. You went to draw his bath and he wasn't far behind, shedding his loose silk pants before sinking into the steaming tub. You left him and neatened his desk.

When he emerged, he dressed in the clothes you set out and sat at his desk. You retrieved the broom and began to clean his bedchamber. He was unbothered by the constant scratching and barely seemed to notice you. 

His work continued well until noon as you kept yourself busy in the receiving chamber. Then a knock came and you stopped dead, a cushion in hand that you'd been fluffing up. The banging came again, louder, and Loki swept into the room. You covered yourself as well as you could with the pillow.

"Fetch some goblets and a bottle," He said. "And put that thing down."

"Your highness, I--"

He smirked and tilted his head. "I gave you an order."

He continued to the door and opened it. You went to the cabinet and opened it carefully. You took a pair of cups and nearly fumbled the bottle.

"Brother," He greeted, "Do come in. I have some wine and we will discuss my proposal. I think it would do the farmers well if we subsidized them."

"Oh, yes, I do rather enjoy talking about seeds," Thor replied dryly as he entered. "I really do not have--"

He stopped as you spun around. He blinked at you, his lips parted slightly, than glanced at his brother. He sniffed and cleared his throat. He went to the straight-backed chair and sat. Loki remained standing as you set the cups on the low table and poured.

"Make it quick," Thor snarled.

"Not an issue if you've read my proposal in full. A subsidy would only be a temporary loss and in the end a profit to the crown," Loki said smoothly.

You offered Thor his cup and he took it without looking at you. A vein stood out along his forehead as his eyes narrowed at Loki. He didn't drink but cradled the cup over his lap. You then handed Loki the other goblet and he sipped before continuing.

"Not only that, but it would be good for your reputation among the common folk," Loki smiled. "And it is not as if we cannot afford it."

"Fine. Do it." Thor barked as he stood, restless. He put the cup down so hard the wine sloshed over the rim. "I know you did not me bring me here to speak of crops. What is the meaning of this?"

"Of what, brother?" Loki prodded.

Thor looked at you at last and his nostrils flared. His eyes sparked and electricity seemed to pulse beneath his skin.

"You know what." Thor hissed.

"It has been a hot summer, brother," Loki taunted. "And I am doing no different than you have done. I know you've not so quickly forgotten--"

"You wait." Thor jabbed his finger in the air and a crackle flew off of it, dying in the air before. "You are still just a prince. As you will ever be."

Thor turned and his cape flapped around him as he stomped towards the door. He slammed it behind him as he stepped out into the corridor. You were breathless, stunned. Loki however only seem amused as he chuckled.

The room suddenly turned dark and you turned to look through the archways. You stepped closer and lightning shot across the sky, eerily black in the daytime. A sudden hale of rain began to batter at the balcony as a storm raged without and added to that within you.

"Well," Loki neared and peered out. "That was fun."

[johaerys-writes]

Witcher AU: Viper In Tall Grass

Chapter (3/3): Fast Approaching Dusk

Summary: Tristan of Toussaint is a witcher, his life dedicated to following the Path of the Viper. It is curiosity more than anything that leads him to Emperor Emhyr var Emreis's court. That is where he meets Dorian Pavus, lead sorcerer and advisor to the crown of Nilfgaard, and his life as he knows it changes for good.

They say that destiny is inexorable. Tristan is starting to see the wisdom in that saying.

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This is the third and final part of the prequel fic I wrote for the as-yet-untitled Witcher AU my beloved potate @solas-disapproves​ and I have been working on! Hope you enjoy!

Warning: Smut under the cut :)

Read here or on AO3!

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Pain, dull and hollow. Breath, short and panting. Head heavy. Lids heavier. Scattered thoughts, twisted images, broken shards of something that must have been whole, once, a long time before. A young girl’s laugh, blonde hair so pale it almost looked white. Blue eyes so dark they looked like deep, whirling pools. A mirror of his own. The gleaming edge of a dagger in the night. A viper’s forked tongue, flickering. A plunge into a yawning abyss.

Tristan woke up with a gasp, coughing and sputtering, agony spearing his sides. Bright light stabbed his retinas, searing white rays piercing his brain. He reached out, searching for his daggers, oblivious to the pain that flared with his every move. His daggers, he had to find his fucking daggers-

“Easy! Easy. It’s alright. You’re safe. Great Sun Almighty, you’ll undo all your bandages the way you’re thrashing about.”

That smooth, velvet voice made Tristan stop abruptly. He blinked, his vision clearing somewhat. Pavus was kneeling next to him, brows furrowed in concern. Tristan squinted, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the sunlight that was streaming through the foliage overhead, framing Pavus’s face like a halo.

“What- what happened?” Tristan said, his voice a forced croak. He tried to sit up, but the mage’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Lie down. You need rest.” He uncorked a water skin, bringing its mouth close to Tristan’s lips. His palm eased behind Tristan’s neck, holding his head steady as he helped him drink. His touch was gentle, caring. Tristan couldn't even remember the last time someone had touched him with so much tenderness. He made a weak attempt to pull away, but as soon as the fresh water reached his lips he realised how parched he was. He drank thirstily, thin streams of liquid running down his cheeks, soaking his hair that clung to the back of his neck. He drank until the water skin was empty, yet he would have gladly drank a couple more. Pavus gently withdrew his hand from under his neck, his fingers soft as they brushed against his skin. He let his head fall back on the makeshift pillow that Pavus had made for him. It felt like one of his cotton undershirts. It smelt like him, too.

“What… where is the Fiend?” he asked, trying to take his mind off of Pavus’s scent that seemed to be everywhere around him all of a sudden.

Pavus quirked an eyebrow as he put the cork back on the waterskin. “Where do you think it is? Lying dead in a bloodied heap, where you left it.”

“Ah.” Tristan took in his surroundings. A merry fire was crackling close to him, its soothing warmth seeping into him through his woollen blanket. A pot was hanging over it, its contents simmering away. Pavus’ bedroll, clean and neatly folded, was almost touching his own. Had he slept next to him all the while Tristan had been unconscious?

The swell of affection that flooded his chest was surprising, and wholly uninvited. Tristan took a breath and cleared his throat in an effort to ease it away. He was still woozy from sleep. Must have been. “How long was I out?”

“Two days. More or less.”

“Two days? Fuck,” Tristan breathed. “What… what happened?”

“What happened? You mean you don’t remember getting skewered by that Fiend’s antlers?”

“Yes, I… I remember.” Tristan winced at the memory of the Fiend’s snout, its foul breath so close to him. Of its burning eye in the darkness, luring him into an agonising end. Of its claws and its deafening roars, and of Pavus's face, pale and drawn as he watched him teetering on the precipice of death. Tristan shook his head gently, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before he opened them again. “What happened after?

“You were half dead by the time I dragged you off that thing. The antler had gone straight through your lung. Healing is not my field of expertise, but I did manage to stem the bleeding somewhat. Couldn’t do much about the scarring, I’m afraid. Had to stitch and wrap the wound with the healing kit I had on me. After that, I came back to fetch my horse and carried you back here.” Pavus let out a sigh, leaning back on his arm. A tiny teasing smile was on his lips when he gazed at him. “You’re much heavier than you look, you know.”

“Right,” Tristan said, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “Sorry about that.”

Pavus waved absently. “Apologise to my horse. The scent of the Fiend’s blood almost gave him a heart attack. He’s still jittery. The faintest sound can send him off. Your horse seems to be doing splendid, though.”

“She’s used to that sort of thing.”

“I’ve gathered as much.” Pavus stood up, leaning over the pot by the fire as he stirred its contents. When he came to sit back down next to Tristan, he was holding a steaming bowl of stew. “You should eat something. Shall I help you with it?”

Tristan shook his head, propping himself up on his elbow, wincing at the pain in his side. The stew was hot, burning his tongue as he took a spoonful. It tasted faintly of spices. “It’s good.”

“Of course it is,” Pavus said with a smirk. “Certainly much better than that bland porridge you made yesterday.”

Tristan grunted a half hearted assent as he chewed, then nodded at a small pouch that was lying close to the mages’ belongings, stained with blood. “Did you get what you came for?”

“I did.” Pavus glanced over his shoulder, following Tristan’s gaze. “That Fiend won’t be missing its third eye.”

Its third eye. So that was what he’d wanted all along. That was what Emhyr wanted to get his hands on. A Fiend’s third eye was said to have many powers and strange applications, but most of the rumours were simply that; rumours. Superstition. Old wives tales about knights who battled Fiends to obtain their third eye, which would miraculously bring their beloved back to life or that could be given to demons in exchange for riches and power. Tristan doubted his knowledge now. What could the Emperor of Nilfgaard possibly want to do with that eye? What were they up to?

In his dream-like haze, Tristan almost voiced those questions. As soon as he opened his mouth, though, he quickly snapped it shut again. Witchers didn’t ask these sort of questions. Whatever Pavus was looking to do with it, was his own business. And as soon as Tristan was paid the entirety of the gold promised to him, this whole affair would stop being any of his.

“You witchers heal surprisingly quickly,” Pavus said as he watched him eat, stirring him out of his thoughts. “I managed to make you drink one of those healing potions in your pouch while you were unconscious - at least I hope it was a healing potion. It reeked abominably to me. You didn’t die, so I guess it worked, yes?”

“You went through my potions?” Tristan’s eyes widened. “You know they’re highly toxic for anyone that isn't a witcher, right? And how did you know which one to give me?”

“Oh, please. I could recognise the smell of swallow and celandine anywhere. Although there was something else positively horrid in there that I couldn’t quite place.”

“That must have been the drowner brains,” Tristan said, smirking when he saw Pavus’ eyes widening, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “Or the vitriol.”

“The horror,” he breathed, pressing his hand on his chest. “The things you poor fellows have to ingest. No wonder you’re so irritable.” Tristan glowered at him, and Pavus laughed mirthfully under his breath. He gave him a warm smile after his laughter had eased away, letting his gaze glide over Tristan’s features. Tristan felt that familiar flush returning to his cheeks, and he hastily looked away. When the mage spoke again, his voice was soft like a whisper. “It almost got you, you know. I’ve never seen a gash this nasty."

Tristan lifted the blanket that Pavus had draped over him. His armour had been removed to be replaced by soft cotton breeches. The bandages on his chest were clean, freshly changed, the strong smell of antiseptic ointment reaching his nostrils. And soap. A startling realisation suddenly dawned on him, making his breath hitch. Pavus had removed his armour, washed him, dressed his wounds, put him in clean clothes. Pavus had seen him naked. Fuck. Shit.

His face was burning when he swiftly let the blanket fall over him again. “I’ve had worse,” he grumbled, eyes fixed on his bowl of stew, hoping against hope that his furious blush wasn’t as noticeable, although he must have looked red like a pomegranate by then. He scooped up the last of his meal and pushed the bowl away, lying flat on his back with a grunt.

"That’s easy enough for you to say. You didn’t see the wound when it was fresh. If the Fiend's antler had got you just an inch to the right, I'm not certain I would have been able to do much. If it were your spleen instead of your lung you would have bled out before I’d even reached you."

Tristan shrugged indifferently. “Perhaps. But it didn’t. And I-” he shot him a sideways glance as he spoke at him, and his words died in his mouth. There was worry lingering in the mage’s eyes, his brows drawn in a thoughtful frown. Tristan felt irresistibly drawn to that curious silver gaze, like a moth was drawn to light. "I, uh…" he started, gulping thickly. "Thank you. You…" He paused, letting out a low chuckle. It sounded weak and painful. "It seems I owe you my life."

Pavus looked at him quizzically for a long moment, tilting his head to the side. "You think so? It never occurred to me. I could invoke the Law of Surprise, I suppose. That might come in handy."

Tristan frowned at him. Invoking the Law of Surprise was no laughing matter, and he had heard of countless people getting into trouble for merely mentioning it. Pavus huffed in amusement when he noticed his disgruntled expression. "I'm simply joking, naturally. If anything, I owe you my life. If it hadn't been for you jumping onto that beast's head, it would have been me lying where you are now. If I were here at all." Pavus held his gaze, his gaze softening. "If thanks are to be given, then you should have mine."

Tristan's heart fluttered in his chest, a blade of grass trembling with the wind. He licked his lips, swallowing thickly. "You-uh… It-it's alright," he stammered. "You don't have to… You placed yourself in danger, too. If it hadn't been for you drawing the Fiend's attention while it had me in hypnosis-" He shook his head. “You could have ran off, then. Should have, actually. Yet you didn’t.”

"Oh, please. As if I would have left you to die out there. Not when you’d finally started warming up to me."

"I… what?"

Pavus' smile widened. "You grabbed a Fiend quite literally by the antlers to save me. You also haven't snapped or grunted in the last ten minutes. Not much, at least. If that's not warming up, then I'm not sure what is.”

"I don't… that's not-" Tristan frowned, pursing his lips in some desperate attempt to appear stern. “I gave my word to the Emperor that I would see you back safe. Witchers live and die by their word. That's what they should do, at least.”

“Was that the only reason you did it?” Pavus whispered, shifting just an inch closer to him.

Tristan’s first instinct was to edge back, safely away. Instead, he found himself watching him wide eyed, unable to move, a deer before bright lights. “I… I-” He dabbed his lips with his tongue, swallowing thickly. The words left his mouth before he could stop them. “I didn’t want to see you get hurt."

With a soft sigh, Pavus moved closer still, covering the distance between them. His lips were only a hair away from Tristan's when he paused, his breath tickling his skin. "I like you, too.”

As if drawn by a spell, Tristan leaned in, catching his plush, velvet lips in a kiss. The mage moaned softly, fingers threading in Tristan’s hair. Tristan’s hands tangled in his robes when he reached out, pulling him towards him. His injury nipped with his movements, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Pavus’ lips were soft and warm against his, and he tasted of cardamom and cloves, and his fingers were soothing as they smoothed down the sides of his neck. Tristan could almost feel the vibration of his magic running over his skin, tingling, drawing him in.

“I want you,” Tristan whispered. He ran his palm down the mage's back, feeling his muscles under the thick fabric. “I want- I want-”

“I want you, too.” Pavus closed his teeth over Tristan’s bottom lip, nipping and sucking lightly as his hand left his neck to skim carefully over his bandages, palm brushing over the bulge in Tristan’s breeches. Deft fingers slithered under his waistband and it wasn’t long before Tristan groaned against his lips, thrusting into his hand when it wrapped around his hardness. “I want you so much.”

“Yes,” Tristan nodded, hypnotised, riding the waves of pleasure that washed through him, unable to hold back. Everything else around him had faded away, even the pain at his sides, and there was only Pavus there, and his lips, his tongue, his hands- fuck, his hands-

Pavus’ mouth left his own to brush along his jaw, down his neck, along the dip of his chest. Tristan held his breath as he watched him trail ever downwards, every touch sending ripples of electricity down his spine. The mage held his gaze firmly, lips quirked in a teasing smile before they closed over his cock.

Tristan moaned, fingers snaking into Pavus’ hair. His mouth was warm and slick, his tongue smooth like velvet as it pressed against him. He shivered as he was swallowed whole, that rich heat enveloping him until he could think of nothing else. He wondered idly whether he had ever felt anything as pleasant, whether there was anything in the world that would compare to that, to that sweet torture, to that slow, agonising pleasure. His fingers were soft when they curled around the base of his cock, when they caressed his thighs, when they trailed upwards to touch the exposed skin of his chest. His sterling grey eyes were fixed on Tristan’s, his intense gaze stealing the air from his lungs. How had he held himself back from this- from him- all these days? How had he managed to keep his hands off him for so long?

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Tristan rasped, pulling him up. Pavus hovered over him, straddling him. Tristan pried his mouth open with his tongue, the taste of him on Pavus’ lips sending shivers coiling and unraveling through him. He slithered his palms under the mage’s robes, feeling the tight muscles of his thighs, fingers digging at the firm flesh of his buttocks through his smallclothes. He hooked a digit over the waistband, the rich fabric retreating easily under his fingertips. “Silk?” he whispered, and the mage chuckled softly.

“Oh, yes,” he murmured against his lips. “Only the best kind.” He gasped when Tristan pulled at it, the silk fabric ripping at the seams. He edged back to look at him, a stern expression on his features. “You owe me a pair of very expensive underwear, you know.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” Tristan brushed his fingers over Pavus’ mouth, then sighed as those full, luscious lips wrapped around his digits. Sucking gently, caressing them with the flat of his tongue. Teeth closing over his fingertips. Eyes trained on his own. Did Pavus even realise the effect his eyes had on him? Could he see, could he feel the rolling waves of lust that rushed through him with his every glance? The pulse that roared in Tristan’s ears with every touch?

He dragged his fingers out slowly, replacing them with his tongue. “You’re brilliant,” he whispered, voice low and hoarse. “Just bloody brilliant.” He reached down, closing his palm around Pavus’s length, brushing his thumb over the bead of dew that had gathered at the tip. The mage tilted his head back, sighing as Tristan placed a trail of kisses along the underside of his jaw, pumping him slowly. He took a deep breath, letting his rich scent fill his lungs.“And you smell so… so-”

“Yes?” Pavus breathed, reaching out for his bag, rummaging through its contents until he pulled out a small vial. He dropped some of the liquid on his palm, then reached down between them to smooth it over Tristan’s shaft.

Tristan’s mouth watered when the spicy scent of the oil reached his nostrils. His pulse quickened, a hot white rush that surged through him in a wave. “You smell so-” he grunted softly, thrusting in Pavus’ hand. “You-you smell... incredible.”

“What else do you like about me?” the mage asked, carefully angling Tristan at his entrance.

“You’re- ah- you-” Tristan’s eyes rolled back at the contact. He clenched his jaw, fingers sinking in Pavus’s thigh. “Your mouth. Your lips. Your skin. Your eyes. They’re beautiful. You’re-” He gazed up at him, running his tongue over his lips. “You’re beautiful.”

Pavus leaned down, brushing his nose over his. “You’re not that bad looking yourself,” he whispered, his lips curved in a smirk.

Tristan groaned at the back of his throat as the mage sank slowly, ever so slowly over his hardness, as the tip of his cock slipped inside his tight heat. “Fuck, this is- this is-”

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Pavus said breathlessly, taking him in a little deeper. A deep flush had risen up his cheeks when he quirked an eyebrow at him. “Makes you feel like an idiot for not doing it sooner, yes?”

Tristan rolled his eyes and huffed in exasperation, though it was half hearted. Mainly because Pavus was right. “You talk too much,” he grunted, cupping his neck to pull his lips down to his, hips bucking upwards a bit more. He kissed him deeply, tongue caressing the roof of his mouth, drinking in the gasps that escaped Pavus as he thrust lightly, shallowly until he was sheathed to the hilt.

“Yes- Sun, yes-” the mage moaned, grinding helplessly against him. He was tight -fuck, was he tight- deliciously warm, infernally good. He pushed into him over and over, chasing every sliver of that sweet bliss. Pavus threw his head back when Tristan closed his fist over his cock, pumping him in time with his thrusts. “Yes- harder, please…”

The breathiness, the need in his voice, the flush of his cheeks, his glistening lips, they made the roaring fire that flooded Tristan’s chest soar to something uncontrollable. He gripped his hips, dragging him down as he surged up, driving himself deeper. His pulse was buzzing in his ears, warmth surging through him with every thrust, his breath catching in his throat, his breath-

Tristan stopped abruptly, his head falling back against the pillow as his lungs spasmed, seeking more air. His hold on Pavus’s hips tightened, holding him steady. “Wait,” he croaked, voice thick and strained.

The mage blinked at him, lifting himself up. “What? What happened?” He was panting, sweat gathering on his brow. It glowed in the evening sun, like beads of golden dew.

Tristan gulped, inhaling slowly through his nose. “I just- I need to catch my breath.” His wound stabbed him every time his chest rose and fell, making it hard to speak. Pavus was watching him wide-eyed, sitting perfectly still on top of him.

“Are you alright? Shall we stop?” he asked, anxiously searching his face. He shifted where he was, lifting himself up. “Perhaps I should-”

Tristan grabbed him tightly, pulling him back down. “Don’t- don’t move,” he rasped. He winced as his lung stabbed at him, and he felt the mage’s back stiffen, saw his eyes widen in concern. Tristan let out a slow exhale, caressing Pavus’s sides under his robes. His muscles were tight underneath his smooth skin, and Tristan let his fingers glide over them, tracing the line that led to his navel with his thumb. “Let’s just take it slow.” He languidly ran his fist down the mage’s length, watching with keen eyes as his eyes rolled back and his lips parted on a moan. “I want to feel you. Really feel you.”

“Slow. Yes.” Pavus nodded, breathless. “I want to feel you, too. You feel so good. So hard. So thick. So-” He rocked against him, palms bracing on the ground on either side of Tristan’s head. He was moving slowly, infuriatingly slowly, but his pace did nothing to quell the roaring blaze of want that surged through him. If nothing else, it kindled it even more.

Tristan fumbled with the buttons and buckles of Pavus’s clothes as the mage rode him - what need was there for all these blasted buckles, anyway?- until he was blissfuly bare, his robes discarded beside them. Until he was hovering over him in nothing but his skin. And what a glorious skin that was - smooth like velvet, rich like caramel, catching the rays of the setting sun, glowing. Tristan dragged his palm down his torso, feeling the contours of his taut muscles. He sighed when he brushed his thumb over a raised nipple, the tight nub stiffening under his touch. Pavus’s teeth closed over Tristan’s bottom lip, his hand slithering in Tristan’s hair as he moaned, as he picked up his pace, lowering himself over and over on his cock. “Tristan,” he breathed, long fingers wrapping around his strands, pulling. “Oh, Tristan-”

His name, spoken in Pavus’s breathless voice, was enough to set his blood aflame. Before he could stop to think, he gripped the mage tightly, shifting his weight to flip him on his back. The wound nipped under the bandage, and he winced in pain, biting the inside of his lip.

The mage gaped at him. “Wait- your injury-” he started, but only managed to let out a loud moan when Tristan thrust eagerly back into him.

“Fuck my injury,” Tristan grunted, crashing his mouth against Pavus’ again, ignoring the pain in his side as their lips touched, chasing every other thought and sensation away. There was nothing else in the world but him, his velvet heat warming him to his very core, his scent that flooded his senses, the taste of him that lingered on his tongue when he brushed it over his throat. He pushed harder, as hard as he could, hooking an arm under his leg to burrow more of his cock inside him.

Pavus’s head fell back, his fingers digging into Tristan’s shoulder blades as Tristan drove himself deeper. The mage’s lips that pressed against the side of his neck, the streams of garbled sentences and curses that ran over Tristan’s skin as he reached down to stroke himself in time with Tristan’s thrusts, his eyes that rolled back with his climax, they were all too much, far too much. The heat and tension that had coiled in his gut burst into something white hot and blinding as he shuddered, letting the vibrations of Pavus's ecstasy wash through him.

Tristan collapsed on top of him, suddenly feeling every last bit of his strength leaving him. His limbs ached and trembled, and the skin at his sides tingled when Pavus ran his palms over it. With soft, careful movements, the mage rolled him on to his back, his fingers lingering on him for just a breath before sitting up to pull a blanket over them both. They lay next to each other for a long while, the chirping of the birds and their own breaths, gradually softening, the only sounds between them.

Tristan inhaled deeply, taking in the quiet of the moment. He watched Pavus from the corner of his eye, studying his languid movements. His heavy lids, fluttering softly. The thin film of sweat that still clung to his brow. He wondered idly whether it had all really happened, or whether the past half hour or so was part of a fever induced dream. A wonderful dream, yes, but a dream nonetheless.

Pavus shifted were he lay, curling his arm under his head. “You can just look at me, you know,” he said sleepily. “You don’t have to peek.”

Tristan frowned, turning away. “I am not peeking.”

“Yes, you are. You’ve been doing it ever since the moment you saw me.”

Tristan’s cheeks flared hot and bright, and he cleared his throat irritably. “I’ve been doing nothing of the sort.”

“For someone who prides themselves on their stealth skills, you’re not very subtle.”

Tristan rolled his eyes, huffing. “Are you always so mouthy, Pavus?”

“Well, of course I am,” the mage chuckled. “It’s one of my greatest assets. Something to which you yourself can attest.” He propped himself up on his elbow to fix him with a pointed look. “And, by the way, my name isn’t Pavus.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s not Pavus. It’s Dorian.”

“I know what your name is,” Tristan grumbled, pursing his lips. He felt like a petulant child all of a sudden.

“You know it, yet you never use it.” He leaned closer, brushing his nose over his. “Just try it. It’s not that difficult. Dorian. Do-ri-an.”

Tristan took a tremulous breath, resisting the urge to surge forward and run the flat of his tongue over those full, glistening lips. “Dorian,” he said after a brief moment of hesitation, poignantly drawing the vowels out. “There. Happy?”

“Very.” Dorian flashed him a wide smile, his finger tracing the raised scar on Tristan’s collarbone. “Now that we’ve learned the basics, we can move on to something more advanced, yes? Let’s start with… ‘You look positively splendid today, Dorian’. That’s always nice to hear. Or ‘I thoroughly enjoy your company, Dorian’. Or ‘Your wit and charm is unparalleled, Dorian’. Or…”

Tristan pulled him down for a deep, passionate kiss, their tongues twining. “You drive me mad, Dorian.”

Dorian laughed against his lips, pressing his body closer against his. “I love hearing that, too,” he whispered. “Especially when it comes from you.”

**

The days of travel until they got back to Vizima rolled by swiftly, much more swiftly than Tristan would have liked. Even more than he would care to admit. The long hours on the saddle by day, listening to Dorian’s voice, drinking in the sound of his laugh. The longer hours at night, when they lay together by the fire until the early morning rays found them. It was as if Tristan was in a constant dream-like haze, his mind filled with thoughts of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. Pure, unfiltered bliss. Ecstasy in slow motion.

When the tall towers of the palace of Vizima rose before them, it was as if someone had stabbed him in the spleen and left him for dead in a shallow ditch.

They didn’t exchange too many words as they solemnly rode through the town’s tidy cobblestone streets. The people parted when they passed, with quick, uneasy looks at Dorian’s magnificent horse, Tristan’s armour and the amulet hanging about his neck. A few even flinched when they met his eyes, praying to their gods under their breath.

Dorian’s expression was serious and grim when their horses’ hooves reached the stone bridge that arched over the deep, broad moat that separated the castle from the rest of the world. They both dismounted, reluctantly handing their reins to the stable boys that rushed out to get their steeds. Var Heid was already waiting for them by the inner courtyard. He gave them both a small bow, hawk like eyes examining them when he straightened back up.

“Was the gentlemen’s journey satisfactory?”

“As a matter of fact, it was,” Dorian said with a sickly sweet smile. “But it was also long and tiring. So, you will excuse us if we go straight to our rooms, yes? I could use a bath.”

Var Heid’s gaze fleeted to Tristan, no doubt taking in every detail of his appearance. “I can imagine,” he said flatly. “I am afraid this is not possible. The Emperor has requested to see you as soon as you arrive.”

“I see.” Dorian straightened up, brushing his palms over his robes, then shot Var Heid a contemptuous look. “Well? What are we waiting for?”

Var Heid sniffed as he turned around, leading them through the castle. Dorian rolled his eyes behind the steward’s back, his lips pursed in an annoyed frown. Damn it. He was beautiful even when he was irked. Perhaps even more so then.

A sharp pang of bitterness drove through Tristan as he followed him through the narrow corridors, secretly wishing for Var Heid to take the long way to the Emperor's office.

A short while later, Tristan was walking back out of the palace, his coin pouch significantly heavier than it was before. The sun was setting, casting its waning golden light upon the world as he made his way to the stables. Almond neighed softly when she saw him, chewing on some fresh straw. He reached out, stroking her forehead, letting his gaze drift past the stable window, over the tall mountains in the distance.

So. It was him, Almond and the vast Continent once more.

“We’ll manage, won’t we, girl?” he whispered. “We always do.”

“Are you talking to… your horse?”

Tristan turned around at the sound of Dorian’s voice. The mage was leaning against the door of the stables, watching him. A soft smile spread on his features, interest flashing in his sterling grey eyes.

“I spend a lot of time on the road by myself,” Tristan replied. “One develops certain habits when they’re alone for so long.”

Dorian chuckled softly, pushing himself off the door. He sauntered towards him, hips swaying ever so slightly. “My initial assessment of you was correct, it seems. You are sentimental.”

“So was mine,” Tristan retorted. “You are mouthy.”

“Was that really your initial assessment of me?”

They gazed at each other for a long moment before Dorian’s lips widened in a smile. Tristan let out a low, throaty laugh, letting his arms fall to his sides when Dorian took a step closer to him.

“So,” he said quietly, “this is it, isn’t it?”

Tristan's stomach tightened uneasily. Dorian's scent was hypnotizing, his lips so close to his, his eyes glittering, drawing him in. The light of the golden setting sun reflecting on his features, making him look as if he were aglow. Tristan ran his tongue over his bottom lip, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to take him into his arms, pull him down atop the hay and make love to him until the sun rose again. “I believe it is.”

Dorian’s finger trailed down his arm, sending shivers through him everywhere it touched. He leaned closer, brushing his lips against his. Tristan closed his eyes, tasting the spices on his tongue, drawing on his focus to discern every detail, every hidden undertone, etching the memory firmly in his mind. They kissed gently for a long moment, light touches that made Tristan’s skin prickle.

“Drop by sometime, will you?” he murmured against his lips, pushing a lock of hair behind Tristan’s ear.

“That is not up to me,” Tristan replied, a tinge of sorrow in his voice. “Witchers go where destiny takes them.”

Dorian brushed his nose over his. “You might be able to figure something out,” he whispered. “If that is what you want.”

Tristan leaned into his touch, helplessly drawn to him. He wanted to be close to him, as close as he could, for as long as he could. He reached out, fingers skimming his waist, itching to pull him into a tight embrace. With a soft sigh, Dorian took a step back. He held his gaze firmly, silver meeting slitted amber.

“So long, Tristan of Toussaint,” he said with a small bow of his head. He turned around, pausing to shoot him a glance over his shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Tristan stared after him, long after his form had disappeared around the stable doors. “So long,” he whispered to the swiftly approaching dusk.

[angst-king]

Glad I ran

(this is a trans kirishima x Bakugou..Kirishima hasn't picked out his boy name yet so he'll go by his last name through most of this. WARNING: contains homophobic parents, abusive actions and language. You've been warned..this is also on my DA page..i wont be linking it  on here)

Kirishima was in his room shaking when his mother was screaming at the poor boy. "What the bloody hell is this huh?!" She yells holding up Kirishima's 'dream journal', it only had his last name on the front since he hated his first name his mother gave him."m-my dream journal" She flips open to a couple of page reading it and a look of anger appeared."So you hate the name Ijima? You hate your body so much, you hate being a pretty girl? I thought I was doing a good job as a parent but I guess not since you wanna be a mental faggot!" Flinching at her blooming voice, Kirishima was scared about what would happen next. Then his heart began to crack as the red head watched his mother rant and shred up the pages of his journal.

The journal contained drawings, rants, and goals he made for himself, and other things. "I can't believe I actually kept you!..I should've just gotten an abortion like he'd offered!" Trying to speak through tears Kirishima stammered "m-mom pl-please" his voice quiet, the book flew at his face. "SHUT UP YOU BASTARD!" Mrs Kirishima then went to grab something, chucking books at him, and getting other things. Hurling more physical and verbal abuse at Kirishima who was to scared to use his quirk fearing if he did the torture would grow worse. Even with rough hands squeezing and throttling him by his neck hitting his head against the bed frame all Kiri could do was take the pain. 'I deserve this' 'I'm useless and a coward who doesn't deserve to be accepted.' His mind brought more thoughts, finally when he heard the door slam was when he realized that he needed to get out of house now but that was already taken care of. Ms Kirishima stormed back in ,"GET OUT NOW, I DON'T WANT YOU HERE ANYMORE YOU PIECE OF SHIT! GO SOMEWHERE ELSE LIKE ON THE FUCKING STREET AND GET HIT BY A DAMN CAR!" that really killed the boy who just wanted to be loved. He tried in the past to be just like his mother wanted but, this was the flag that said. 'it'll never happen' Shakily standing to his feet, the redhead's legs carry him out of the house after he grabs his phone that needs to be charged. He thinks about where he should go as he heads for the door, when the thought of his fiery blonde crush Bakugou. The Bakusquad knew about Kirishima being a transgender male, and with Mina's help he'd had a chest binder he could wear to school. He could even wear it with his hero costume with more help from Mina's awesome design skills.

Forgetting to put on some shoes, he heads out into the rainy cold outside world. Holding himself shivering and sniffling, wiping is tear, bruised, cut, and rain stained cheeks. He's weak, he hadn't eaten much that day and his anxiety is high enough to make him have a seizure. Kirishima had anxiety induced epilepsy, he's had anxiety in school but its never been high enough for him to fall to the ground and convulse. His mother refused to believe that he had it and would even just leave him on the floor at home to go do stuff, or would 'accidentally' stepped on him. When he gets to a familiar house he's feeling very weak and tired. Just barely able to hold himself upright but, its long enough to knock on the door before leaning against the door railing. Mitsuki was folding the laundry while Masaru was in the kitchen and Katsuki was in his room when. Mitsuki hears a knock at the door, she puts down a shirt she was folding and gets up. She didn't expect any visitors, and she knew that Katsuki didn't either nor Masaru still she goes to answer the door. Opening the door a shaking soaking wet, barefoot, and beaten Kirishima stood at the door. "Kirishima honey what are you doing here? what happened to you!?" But before he could answer he fell to the ground and had a seizure making Mitsuki yell for her boys to come over and help. "Katsuki! Masaru!" Both rushed over, Bakugou was acting his usual self before seeing the scenario. "what is it old ha-" He paused when he saw his friend convulsing on the floor, Masaru immediately went into the action after the seizure slowed enough to drag the other inside until the seizure stopped. It actually made Katsuki freeze seeing his friend like this, but there wasn't time to do this when Masaru was giving orders. "I'm gonna get him to the couch, Mitsuki can you clear it off for me. Katsuki grab the first aid kit, a towel, and one of your shirts please." Only a nod was the response an the two blondes were put to work. Masaru was never a loud man, he could be timid and quiet, but he knew how to command a room and get things done

. Once the couch was cleared, Masaru carries Kirishima's limp but slightly jerking body to it and carefully lays him down elevating his head. Katsuki came back with what he was asked to get and Mitsuki was trying to help wake the boy up. Though when she looked him over she noticed marks and bruises scattered along the boy's body. "Masaru look at all the marks" Masaru looks to and frowns, Katsuki couldn't help but have a sick feeling in his stomach at all the marks he was seeing. Mitsuki helps dry Kirishima off which wakes him up slowly. His eyes fluttered open dazed and trying to focus, though hearing the soft voices calling for him he looked around. "wh-where am I?" Mitsuki felt so bad that the kid didn't even remember, but told him. "You're at our house hun, you came over knocking and had a seizure." Kirishima seeing all the familiar faces now remembered why he came here. "th-thanks you, I-I'm sorry about the s-seizure." A gentle hand rest on Kirishima's tender shoulder, he looks to Masaru. 

"Its no trouble bud, you come here all the time but. You never come like this, is everything okay?" Biting his slightly busted lip Kirishima whimpered, Bakugou's family didn't know about him being trans, he just passed pretty well with a bit of make up. "I-I'm sorry but I d-don't wanna talk about it, i-it was scary." Masaru nods, and thank god Bakugou offered. "Hey come on you can change in my room." Kirishima nods but is interrupted by Mitsuki. "gotta bandage you up first hun" "th-thanks a lot" He smiles tiredly while the two adults work on bandaging Kirishima up. Kirishima would only wince every so often but didn't whine or whimper at them. When he was bandaged up, Bakugou leads Kirishima up to his room so he could change. Up in Bakugou's room Kirishima was wearing Bakugou's shirt that was a bit big on him. Sitting on the bed a curled up Bakugou had a feeling about what happened. "You okay red?" Bakugou sits next to him his usually rough and explosive palms gingerly fall upon Kirishima's back. His voice is soft and sweet, the kindness soothed him a little. Kirishima only nods though still Bakugou asks the question. "Red, did something happen for you to come here bare foot in the rain?" Kirishima looked down at his feet but sighed and nods. Bakugou was testing the water now. "Was it your mom?" Kirishima only nods while wiping tears away, Bakugou started to feel angry hearing this information. He pulls the other close until the his arms are wrapped around him while Kirishima's facing his chest.

"Its gonna be okay I promise red." Kirishima cried into his chest for a little while until he could pull himself together in time for dinner. Coming down stairs when Masaru called them for dinner. "Hey boys you ready to eat?" The boys nod while going to grab their bowls and taking them to the table and eating after thanking Masaru. Matsuki was happy to see Kirishima eating, as he looked like he was really hungry and feeling a little better. Neither parent questioned why Kirishima came here feeling as if it was a sensitive situation for him. "Thank you Mr and Mrs Bakugou" Kirishima smiles before shoveling food into his hungry mouth. "You're quite welcome hun" The blonde woman smiles, she always saw Kirishima as the son she and Masaru didn't have to make or legally adopt so she didn't mind having him over. Kirishima did help Masaru or Bakugou with the dishes when ever he did come over and stayed for dinner, so that's what he did when he was done. After dinner both Bakugou and Kirishima headed back up stairs to hang out. While watching a movie Kirishima sat close to Bakugou who was tempted to hold him. Bakugou had a soft spot for Kirishima but didn't know how to say it, his parents told him to just be honest about it don't beat around the bush so that's what he did. "Hey red, can I tell you something?" Kirishima turned looking at Bakugou curiously "yeah bro what is it" "I like you" "...like best friends?" Bakugou grabs him by the shoulders, "I want to be with you" then slamming their lips into a sweet soft kissed. Kirishima kisses back, shocked at how soft the blond's lips really were. It felt like fireworks and a surge of happiness went through Kirishima's body. His crush liked him back, and he was just kissed by him. "So we're boyfriends?" "mhm" "good."

Crawling into Bakugou's lap they went back to watching the movie while Bakugou plays with the red mop of hair. When they grew tired enough to get under the covers, Kirishima's head was on Bakugou's chest while his arms were around hid torso. "Bakugou" His soft sudden voice said "yes Kiri?" "so you love me even though I'm not a real boy?" "Kirishima you are a real man, no matter how you look or what's under your shirt or in your pants." "thanks Bakugou" What they didn't know what Mitsuki could hear the two as she walked passed her son's door, smiling as she walked to her shared room with Masaru. She told him about it, the two were very supportive of Bakugou. When he came out he was actually pretty shy when he did it but they didn't care they thought it was brave of him to do it. Mitsuki would tease him sometimes asking 'any cute boys at school yet?' The next morning Bakugou woke up to Kirishima's phone going off with multiple text and voice messages. "hmmng?" Tiredly grabbing the red and black phone of the charger, Bakugou go sees some of the text on the lock screen and he's getting angry. 'How could someone treat such a sweet person so horribly?' He thought to himself while reading the text, he then decided to unlock the phone, he knew the password. Reading more of the text he then forwarded them to his own phone as evidence if they needed it.He then goes to his own phone after turning off Kirishima's phone and texted his mom. 'Hey mom read these text when you wake up, these are from Kirishima's mom. I had a feeling this is why he came over here' It'd only been ten minutes when Mitsuki texted back 'what the hell, so I take it he came out to her and it went wrong?!' 'Maybe' 'well thanks for sending me this' 'welcome' When it was around the time most of them got up on the weekend, Kirishima got up and got ready with Bakugou. Kirishima had slept without his binder, so Bakugou helped him put it on. Bakugou wanted to make breakfast so he was in the kitchen today while the others were in the living room. Kirishima's phone continued to dings with text or ring. He'd groan irritated and answered it, he'd went into another room when he saw it was his mother. By the time breakfast was ready Kirishima looked ready to cry again after the phone call. He'd endured more screaming from his mother and it was really getting to his head. He quietly sat down at the table and thanked Katsuki for making breakfast. The table was quiet with the small talk from Masaru. 

"How'd you boys sleep last night?" "Slept pretty well thanks" Katsuki answered, the usual sunshine red head was quiet and seemed anxious. He didn't wanna go home, but he also didn't wanna over stay his welcome. "Kirishima hun, you alright?" Mitsuki noticed this, Kirishima nods even if he did wanna cry right there and then, he held off. Mitsuki before getting out of bed showed Masaru the text Bakugou showed her, so they all had a gist of what was going on. "Kirishima is something going on at home with your mom?" Asked Mitsuki, Kirishima bites his lip putting down his utensils, he felt nervous. What if he gets in trouble for telling them? Will they make him go back anyway? will they believe him?

"Kiri hun whatever's going on you can tell us...look Katsuki saw the text from your mom on your phone and forwarded them to me. What's going on hun?" Kirishima's anxiety started up but he knew he couldn't hide from them anymore. If he wanted his problems solved he needed to man up and tell them. "Sh-She found my dream journal, i-it had goals, ra-rants and w-what I'd like for the future. Sh-she must've read about me being a transgender g-gay boy...She sc-screamed and beat me up and t-told me to get out....hoped I get hit by a car and various other things. I-I was scare to use my quirk because she might make it worse." Shaking a little with sympathetic eyes all watching and listening, Bakugou slipped a hand under the table and held Kirishima's shaking one to calm him. Mitsuki looked down while grabbing a napkin and wiping her mouth. "Kirishima I'm sorry to hear that-" Masaru was interrupted by an angry wife but she wasn't angry at Kirishima no. she was angry at how Kirishima's mother could do something like this. "M-Mitsuki?" "M-Mrs Bakugou?" Mitsuki sighed and talked in an all to calm voice "Kirishima call me mom, that woman is no mother to you." Only a nod was his response, breakfast continued quietly with an awkward silence and thick tension from Mitsuki.

While Kirishima helped wash the dishes with Bakugou, he spoke. "i-I'm sorry for ruining breakfast" Bakugou's fist tightened up then loosened before wrapped his strong arms around Kirishima's smaller frame. "Don't fucking be sorry, that woman who's supposed to be your mom is to blame, not you." "th-thank you Bakugou" Kirishima earns a soft kiss on the forehead and then went back to washing the dishes. When they finished Mitsuki came out with her keys and jacket. "Hey boys go put some shoes on and a jacket, its chilly out." Both boys were confused as to why they were to get ready to go somewhere but didn't question it. Kirishima wore more of Bakugou's stuff, Misuki giggles. "You look cute in your boyfriend's clothes" Both boys blushed and Mitsuki smirks."Mother knows all~" She teases while walking to the car, the boys follow her and get in the back seat. Both are curious as to where their destination was and why they were going so suddenly? Mitsuki gave no hints, the sounds of Kirishima's mother spamming his phone only drove her to wanting to drive faster and to be more determined. When they entered Kirishima's neighborhood, he got a bad feeling in his stomach that he hoped would go away soon but. When they got close to his house the feeling grew, and then filled him with dread as they stopped in front of his house. "Alright lets go" Mitsuki says while unlocking the car, so Bakugou and Kirishima hop out and Mitsuki leads them to the front door. Mitsuki stood in front of the boys and knocked on the door, Kirishima feels an arm around his waist as they waited.

It only took a few minutes for a young black haired woman answers the door. She frowns seeing Kirishima but jumps an punt on a front as soon as Mitsuki clears her throat. "I believe this is the Kirishima house hold" "Yes oh my god, you found Ijima thank you so much!" Mitsuki could see right through her and thought 'two could play that game'. "Yes I found him on my front door, barefoot, covered in bruises and having a seizure as soon as I opened the door." "Oh gosh thank you so much, she ran away last night be-" Mitsuki smirked with her folded arms she looks into the red eyes of the shorter woman who glared at Kirishima. "Yes he ran away because you told him to leave and to get hit by a car. You told him how much you didn't want him because of who he wants to be, not who he chose to be." Mrs Kirishima still kept up her facade "what are you talking about I would never do that to my daug-" "I have the text that you sent your son, he told us everything." Mitsuki's bluntness didn't silence Mrs Kirishima who huffed. "Well then what did you come here for?"  "To get Kirishima's stuff, he's staying with us." Both Kirishima and Mrs Kirishima raised a brow confusedly. "No she's not she's my daughter not yours!" The raven haired woman's voice rose making the red head flinch but Mitsuki didn't budge. "You didn't want your son, you told him to get hit by a car and numerous other things...remember I can just call CPS you know. He's obviously more welcome and comfortable at our house." Mitsuki's tone left no room to argue and Mrs Kirishima scoffed. "Fine then get your shit and get out" She growled lowly, Kirishima rushes passed the woman with Bakugou in tow.

Kirishima grabs a bag and Bakugou helps him pack what he can while Mitsuki waits out front with an ace up her sleeve. She'd set her phone to record before getting out of the car, so the whole conversation was being recorded. She'd edit out all of the long pauses of silence that she needed to in order to hand it over to the correct professionals. Only fifteen minutes and the boys were back and Kirishima had all he needed, shoes included. When exiting the threshold, Mrs Kirishima pushed him out before slamming the door. Katsuki caught him and held him steady as they headed back to the car. "Th-thanks M-..Mom" "You're welcome Kirishima"   They headed back to Bakugou's house and Kirishima went up to Bakugou's room while Mitsuki disgusted things with Masaru.Talking about the recording, calling CPS, and what to do with Kirishima. While they did that Kirishima and Bakugou cuddled on the bed. "So I'm gonna be with you guys...I'm glad" "Me too, I would've punched that bitch if she wasn't a woman..though mom would've beat me to it I'm sure if she didn't show restraint." Kirishima chuckles and nods "I'm sure both of you would've went to town on her but seriously. I'm glad I'm with you. I couldn't have picked a better how to run away too."

[aqlemonade]

(AB)CD Tour - Biadore

Summary: Follow Roy and Danny on the ABCD tour-- With occasional commentary from Courtney and Darienne. 

AN: Just a warning this is a bit long. I tried to work in most of the content we got from them during these four shows. I hope you guys enjoy! Thank u, next, bitch!

Fabric bunched under Roy’s hands as he helped Danny shimmy into Adore’s mermaid costume. “Jump, babe,” He instructed Danny. The younger laughed quietly as he did what he was told. One good jump from Danny, and a decent tug from Roy got the costume over his body. “What do you think?” Roy asked as he eyed the work he did on the garment. Danny turned around in the mirror; Hitting poses and flipping his short hair. “I guess I don’t have to ask,” Roy chuckled at his fiancé’s amusement.

“It’s fucking sick Roy, are you kidding? I look so hot,” Danny answered as he checked his ass out in the mirror.

“Yeah, you do,” Roy kissed his cheek. “But I mean the fit? Is it okay? Are you comfortable?” Roy ran his hand down the tail part of the costume, unintentionally sending a shiver through Danny‘s body. “I made it a few inches bigger than your measurements to give you some wiggle room.”

Danny shook his hips, “Well, I can wiggle in it.”

“You’re an idiot,” Roy said fondly.

Danny smiled at him with his tongue poking out from behind his teeth. “Your idiot. An idiot that you love so much you made this gorgeous costume for.”

Roy felt a warmth in his chest when Danny expressed how much he liked his outfit. He had made most of everybody’s clothing for the tour, but spent extra time making sure everything for Adore was perfect. “I’m glad you like it, honey.”

Danny turned to face Roy. “I love it, and everything else you made me! Really, Willow, thank you,” He reached out to embrace Roy in a giant hug, only pulling away slightly to kiss him. A few appreciative pecks turned into deeper kissing. Danny cupped Roy’s face as he slipped his tongue into his mouth. Roy’s arms tightened around Danny’s waist and brought him closer.

“Why don’t we take this off so it doesn’t get ruined?” Roy said breathlessly against Danny’s lips.

“Yeah,” Danny huffed out between kisses. They reluctantly broke away from each other, rushing to get Danny out of the mermaid costume without rushing so much that they ripped it.

Roy tugged the top half down, pressing his lips against Danny’s shoulders. He kissed all over his back, chasing the freckles and goosebumps on his skin. Soft hands slid down Danny’s arms before Roy turned him around. His lips closed around one of Danny’s nipples while he brushed the other with his thumb. Danny’s breathing got heavier as Roy’s tongue swirled around the nub. A small noise escaped plump lips when Roy flicked it.

“You’re so perfect,” Roy huffed as he peppered kisses to Danny’s chest. His fingers toyed with Danny’s nipples while he kissed a path to Danny’s neck. Suckling, kissing, licking and biting the tender flesh had those beautiful emerald eyes rolling back and Danny’s dick begging for attention.

“I’m not wearing underwear,” Danny said with a smirk; Almost a bribe to get Roy to take the rest of this thing off of him.

“Oh, you’re not?” Roy’s tone was just as playfully teasing as Danny’s was. His kisses had moved from Danny’s neck to across his jaw. His hands groped Danny’s ass over the shiny fabric of the mermaid tail.

“Nope,” Danny choked out. He cleared his throat to speak properly, “Seriously, I think I’m precumming on it.”  

The implication that the garment was getting soiled cleared away the fog in Roy’s head. “Okay, babygirl, let’s get this off of you.” Danny groaned at babygirl. Roy knew that made his legs weak. The older man kneeled on the floor behind Danny. “Stand up straight. I’m gonna pull it down, okay?” Danny nodded. At first he was just going to rip it off of him and hope for the best, but the side of him that spent hours making the garment washed that thought away. Roy slowly worked it pass Danny’s hips, letting his fingers linger on pale skin before allowing it to fall. “Step out, love.” Roy picked up the garment, folded it, and placed it neatly back into Danny’s suitcase.

“That was nice,” Danny mused with the cutest grin on his face.

“Yeah?” Roy inched closer to him.

“Yeah,” Danny pecked Roy’s lips. “You’re sweet.” Roy smiled at him, giving him another peck before grabbing him by the shoulders and turning him around. Roy bent Danny over the hotel bed, sinking back down to his knees behind the younger man. Roy smacked Danny’s asscheek, burying his face inside of him while Danny was still mid yelp from the sting of his hand. “Oh my god,” Danny whined, his teeth biting into his bottom lip as Roy lapped at him.

Roy went at him like he had never and would never be able to taste him again. His tongue was flat, swirling around and licking at Danny’s asshole. He played with the pressure he used on Danny. Heavy breaths and barely audible moans were the result of a light touch, writhing around and whimpering was the result of a bit (a lot) more force. Roy used his arm to steady Danny’s hips, his other hand moved between his own legs.

Danny was so beautiful. The sounds he made were incredible, and the way he reacted to Roy made Roy ache. He began stroking himself as his mouth worked on Danny. The vibrations from Roy’s gravely moans sent waves through Danny’s body. Shaggy hair shook out and stuck to a sweaty body as Danny threw his head back, mewling in ecstasy. Roy heard his name tumble from that gorgeous man’s lips, sending a heat through his abdomen and encouraging him to eat him out with a new ferocity.

Roy shook his head back and forth while keeping contact between his tongue and Danny’s hole for a new sensation. “Holy fuck, Roy,” Danny cried out. “Keep doing that—Fuck!” This man would never cease to amaze Danny. Their sex life never got boring or stale. Even after years of fucking, Roy would always surprise him. He always had some clever trick in his arsenal that would have Danny clutching the bed sheets until his knuckles turned white—Which they had.

A sudden change had Danny seeing stars. Roy slid his tongue in and out of him. His hand crashed down in the same place he spanked before, turning the rosey hand print into an angry red. Danny reached around to push Roy’s head further down. He was so lost in the moment he didn’t know what he was doing, but Roy happily allowed him to do it anyway.

He continued to open Danny up with his tongue, switching between penetration and gentle licks. Roy traced Danny’s rim, slipping back inside of him while Danny moaned and pawed at the hotel sheets. His hips started grinding against the bed for friction. A tremble came over his thighs. Seeing that, Roy knew Danny was more than ready for him. The man spit in Danny’s hole, making the younger groan and wiggle around for more contact that he never received.

Roy stood up in search for lube, though his mission was cut short as Danny had stood too and began ripping his fiancé’s clothing off. Danny tossed Roy’s tank top on the ground. His lips attacked Roy’s neck while his hands splayed over his chest. Roy’s head lulled back, tilting a bit to the side to give Danny better access. Danny smirked at how willing Roy was to give up control. To be vulnerable. To let Danny please him. Pale hands trailed down Roy’s stomach methodically. The muscles twitched and jumped under Danny’s touch. Roy hummed in approval.

It didn’t take long for Danny’s fingers to find the belt of Roy’s jeans. While lips kissed a tan chest he fiddled with the buttons and loops of his pants until they fell in a pool around his ankles. Danny dropped down to his knees, smugly smiling at the wet stain on Roy’s underwear. Danny’s pointer finger traced where it was, teasing his man’s cockhead. Roy gasped, his legs tensed up while his hips thrust into Danny’s touch. He couldn’t look down at him, knowing the cocky expression that was undoubtedly plastered on his face would make him choke.

Danny yanked Roy’s underwear down to be met by his gorgeous cock: Hard and leaking just for him. Danny licked his lips. He gripped the base before devouring him. All of Roy slid down Danny’s mouth until he hit the back of his throat. Danny gagged initially before adjusting to the size. His lips were completely stretched over Roy’s cock as he looked up at the older man. Roy swore Danny never looked as beautiful as he did right now. He began bopping his head up and down Roy’s shaft in a circular motion. Only the tip was left in when Danny pulled back. With a generous tongue, Danny lavished it with attention. He swirled all around, becoming neater in his movements when he wanted to focus on licking the top. Roy inhaled sharply as Danny’s tongue dipped into his slit. His hand tangled in Danny’s hair, tightening when he felt Danny’s tongue start a swiping motion.

“Shit,” Roy mumbled under his breath. Danny had taken Roy back in. His nose pressed against Roy’s stomach as he deepthroated him. “Dan,” Roy whined as tremors began to rake through his body. A laugh from the back of Danny’s throat made Roy’s head fall back and his balance stagger. His fingers combed through Danny’s hair affectionately. Danny cupped Roy’s balls, letting the heat from his palm get to Roy first before squeezing them just how he knew Roy liked it.

Despite the haze in Roy’s mind his hunger for Danny shone through. Roy tried to form a semblance of control, but utterly failed when a loud moan broke from his lips instead of the words he was attempting to say. “Where-where’s the lube, Dan?” Roy groaned through labored breathes. He needed Danny to stop before he came down his throat, but didn’t have the will power to make him. “Please, Danny.”

A string of spit followed when Danny pulled Roy out of his mouth. “Right there,”  he pointed to the dresser. For once Roy was thankful for a tiny hotel room. He reached right over, grabbing the lube without having to move. When their eyes met Danny was leaning on his knees, the most innocent look and sweetest grin on his face while he lightly stroked Roy’s dick.  

Roy reached down to cup Danny’s cheek. His thumb brushed the heated skin. “Such a little fuck,” He teased warmly. Danny snickered. It was exactly like Roy to break a moment like this just to joke with him. They both leaned in for a kiss. Roy guided Danny to stand up as their lips meshed together. His hands ran up Danny’s arms then down his back. He gripped Danny’s ass. One hand kneading the perfectly round cheek while the other slipped between to gently start massaging Danny’s hole.

“Let me,” Danny breathed. He picked up the bottle Roy had dropped on the floor while they were making out. Danny bit his bottom lip, looking Roy right in the eyes as he squirted lube on his hand. Roy’s mouth dropped when Danny started jerking him off with it. “That feel good?” Danny questioned with a smirk. His lips hovered over Roy’s. When Roy chased them for a kiss Danny backed away. “You’re amazing,” He kissed Roy’s neck instead. “So fucking sexy,” Danny praised with his lips dangerously close to Roy’s. He backed away again when Roy sought out a kiss, his lover whining at the deprivation; Which was all Danny wanted. “And all mine,” He crashed his lips against Roy’s. Desperate for him, Roy deepened the kiss immediately. His tongue pushed into Danny’s mouth, his hands held his face. Danny returned the passion Roy was kissing him with. “I love you,” Danny moaned against his lips.

“I love you too,” He grabbed at Danny, attempting to bring him closer than their two naked bodies pressing together. “I love you so much,” Roy panted. “I love you,” He became frantic in his actions. Trying to do everything he could to prove to Danny physically how much he loved him, as if chanting it against his lips wasn’t enough. “I can’t take this anymore,” Roy declared. “Bend over.” Darkness was all Danny saw in Roy’s eyes as his pupils were blown out. It made Danny’s mouth dry. He nodded his head like he was in a trace, bending over the bed like Roy said.

Roy swallowed down the hunger building inside of him at the sight of Danny’s hole on display. If he was religious he would stop right now to thank God for this man. Roy squirted more lube onto himself then onto Danny. He used his thumb to spread it on his fiancé, loving to see him squirm before he even did anything.

Roy adjusted Danny’s legs so he could position himself between them. Danny reached behind himself to hold himself open for Roy. The older man nearly melted at the sight. “You’re really trying to kill me aren’t you?” He sighed. Danny just shook his ass in Roy’s face; He took that as a yes.

Roy gripped his cock. “You’re good? You want this?” He pressed the head of his dick against Danny’s asshole.

The younger smiled with his tongue between his teeth while nodding. “Fuck yes.”

He glided inside of him, amazed at how easily Danny could take him now. Roy groaned, his eyes rolled back finally being surrounded by his lover. Roy gripped Danny’s hips. “You feel so good. You’re so good for me,” he rambled as he began slowly thrusting inside of Danny. The younger moaned as Roy started moving inside of him. He loved that familiar pressure of Roy filling him up.

“You can go faster, baby. I’m okay,” Danny gave Roy permission to skip the ‘warm up’ period. They were both as desperate as the other for Roy to start pounding into him.

“Let me know if you need to stop,” Roy said before slamming into Danny. Fast and hard was the pace; Clearly neither of them could hold off for anything less. Roy adjusted his angle until a high pitched yelp sounded from his fiancé. He focused his thrusting there, knowing he had found Danny’s prostate.

Roy’s fingers dug into Danny’s hips as his hammered away at him. Roy had never felt so desperate in his life. He wanted to feel every bit of Danny; Take as much of him as he could. Danny buried his face in the mattress as he bottomed out. Roy was fucking him with an intensity that he had never felt before, not even from Roy himself. “Oh my god,” Danny wanted to scream, but all that came out was a strangled whimper. “That’s so good! Fuck me, Roy.” Roy slapped Danny’s ass in the same spot as before. He watched as Danny’s body jumped from the hit and trembled at how it heightened his pleasure.

The pace became quicker. Danny couldn’t register anything that was going on beyond this moment. Tears welled in his eyes as Roy pounded against his prostate with each thrust, and with each thrust getting faster Danny could barely hold himself up. He was close to collapsing when he felt Roy’s hand pull his hair. His head snapped backwards with it. Roy holding his hair while he fucked him forced Danny to sit up a bit. His arms helped hold some of his weight, taking pressure off of his legs. “What good are those moans if I can’t hear you?” Roy growled. All the dirty talk made Danny’s balls throb. He moaned loudly for Roy, who showered him with praises once he did.

Bruises had to be forming under Roy’s fingertips. Every time his thrusts got harder his grip got tighter. The sound of their bodies smacking together echoed through the room, twirling around with their moans and whimpers. Roy was losing control. Danny had never been fucked so well in his life. Roy focused every bit of emotion he felt for Danny in his thrusting, and it started to get overwhelming for both of them.

“Ow!” Danny calling out in pain broke through every barrier between Roy and reality.

“Shit, Danny. I’m sorry,” He pulled out of his fiancé carefully. “Are you okay?” He rubbed Danny’s lower back. “Was I hurting you this whole time?”  

“No, no,” Danny reassured him. “This whole time has been great. That one was just a little much.”

Roy knew he was getting carried away. “We’ll slow it down then,” He decided. He grabbed a blanket off of the bed, spreading it out across the floor. “Come,” he opened his arms for Danny as he sat down. Without question Danny followed him. His legs gave out, making him fall into Roy’s lap. The couple giggled together. “Are you okay?” Roy asked.

“Yeah,” Danny answered between laughs.

“You still wanna do this?”

“Of course,” Danny smiled at him. “I’m fine.” Roy wound an arm around Danny’s waist. He pulled him in closer, adjusting Danny so he was in a proper position. Danny threw his arms around Roy’s neck, leaning in to catch his lips in a kiss. Danny moaned at the taste of his lover’s mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you, Dan.” Roy returned. He was so thankful he grew out of thinking that telling someone you love them every five minutes was embarrassing. He didn’t know how the two of them would survive not saying it like clockwork. Roy grabbed his dick, rubbing it in the rut of Danny’s ass.

“There,” Danny let Roy know when he found his asshole. Roy slowly pushed inside of him. Quiet whimpers were let out into Roy’s mouth. He allowed Danny to control how much he wanted to take from that point. He didn’t want to risk hurting him again. Roy’s hand moved to the back of Danny’s neck as he deepened their kiss.

Danny sunk down on Roy’s cock. Both men moaning when his dick disappeared between them. Danny used his knees for leverage as he started moving up and down languidly. Roy groaned as his fingers pressed into Danny’s hot flesh. Taking cues from the pace Danny set for himself, Roy started thrusting up; Meeting him half way and making beautiful sounds tumble from his lips. Danny whined, moving his face to Roy’s shoulder as their bodies rocked in sync with each other.

Roy’s hands ran up and down Danny’s back lovingly. Feeling the wet skin as he just wanted to touch his lover’s body. Danny’s arms tightened around Roy. He buried his face in Roy’s neck, occasionally pressing kisses to the sensitive area. Roy sighed. Everything felt so peaceful with Danny in this moment. He wasn’t too fond of the thought of it ending. The older man kept his thrusts calm and lazy. Danny followed Roy’s lead, sticking to whatever pace he set.

Roy lifted Danny’s chin to kiss him. The excitement from the kiss had both Roy and Danny speeding up the pace without realizing it. A guttural moan escaped from Roy when Danny clenched around him. The younger bit his fiancé’s lip, tugging it with him before catching his lips in another kiss. Roy’s nails scratched down Danny’s shoulder blades. Danny threw his head back as he rode Roy’s dick. His skinny arms stayed wrapped around Roy’s neck so he wouldn’t fall.

Roy stared at Danny in reverence for him. He was so vibrant and beautiful. The sweat on his body made him glisten. His lips were red and kiss swollen. Parted in a pant and shining with spit. His face scrunched up adorably, and his hair was damp with sweat. Roy quickened his hips just to watch his fiancé bounce in his lap with each thrust.

Roy took his bottom lip between his teeth. He could feel the start of his own orgasm building. “Danny...” The way Roy whined his name let Danny know his lover was close to his climax.

“I got you, babe,” Danny kissed his dimple. He pushed on Roy’s shoulders, guiding him to lay down. With the last bit of strength in Danny’s body he began riding Roy, not allowing Roy to help at all. “I wanna do this for you,” he moaned. Danny’s ass bounced against Roy’s v-line each time he slammed down. Roy scrambled for Danny’s hands, lacing their fingers together when he found them.

Roy wanting to hold hands as they made love caused butterflies to erupt in Danny’s chest. He pinned Roy’s arms above his head, leaning on him for stability while keeping their fingers intertwined. Danny hovered over him. Roy gave his hands a gentle squeeze. Danny smiled and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Love you,” Danny mused happily.

“Love you too, babygirl.”

His hands tightened around Danny’s. As his orgasm got closer Roy began thrusting up into Danny frantically. With all of his strength Danny slammed back down with as much force as Roy thrust up with. His eyes began to water again at the intensity. His own orgasm approaching caused him to pulse around Roy. It was just what Roy needed to be taken over the edge. His thighs trembled as he came inside of Danny’s asshole. His stomach muscles twitched and contorted. The power of his orgasm made his whole body convulse.

“Woah,” Danny looked on in awe. He could barely focus on the amazing feeling of Roy’s liquid filling him up as he was taken back by the sight of Roy’s release. “That was hot,” he praised, leaning down to kiss Roy’s lips and chest. Roy wasn’t coherent enough to kiss back. His hands rested on Danny’s hips when Danny let them go. He focused on getting his breathing back to a normal pace.

Danny pulled off of Roy, rolling over to lie next to him. Roy threw an arm around him. Danny cuddled under it. “Give me a minute, I’ll finish you off,” Roy assured. He was so sated from his own orgasm he didn’t want to move an inch.

“S’okay, whatever you wanna do,” Danny said simply. Roy just had a stunning orgasm that left Danny breathless while watching, he wasn’t focused much on himself right now. Roy kissed Danny’s forehead, his fingers brushed through his raven locks. Danny caught Roy’s eyes when he looked up at him. They smiled at each other before moving in for a kiss. Roy tilted Danny’s chin to adjust the angle, and soon he was pulling Danny on top of him.

Danny moaned when Roy sucked his bottom lip. He gently nipped the younger before letting go. “C’mere,” Roy instructed, guiding Danny to move forward. He stopped him when Danny was in the perfect position. Roy leaned up to pepper kisses to Danny’s stomach. He kissed around his navel, across his pelvis, and down his happy trail. Danny had slipped into a state of bliss. His eyes were closed as a faint smile painted his lips. Roy couldn’t believe what an angel he was.

The older man laid back down. Danny scooted closer to him. Their eyes locked, Roy nodded to give him the okay to continue. Danny gripped the base of his dick, bringing the head to Roy’s lips. He guided himself into Roy’s mouth. His heart thumped at the sight of Roy below him gagging on his cock. Roy moaned around him, Danny’s eyes rolled back at the vibration. “Fuck,” he mumbled to himself. It wouldn’t take much of this to get Danny off. He was on the brink beforehand, and his thighs were already quivering as Roy bobbed around him.

Danny grabbed a fistful of Roy’s hair, using it to direct Roy’s movements. He made Roy go faster, thrusting into his mouth as his orgasm started to build again. Roy reached up to stroke Danny’s balls with his fingertips. The younger moaned his lover’s name as his body began to shutter.

Danny thrust himself into Roy’s mouth wildly. The hand in his hair pulled him harshly with Danny’s movements. Roy moaned, gagged, and coughed around him. His own hands were grabbing at Danny’s ass, his nails digging into the delicate flesh. “I’m gonna cum,” Danny warned before shooting his load down Roy’s throat. His body tensed up, shivers hitting like waves through his muscles. Roy swallowed every bit, his tongue swirled around the tip to make sure he licked Danny clean.

Danny collapsed in Roy’s arms. Roy wrapped him up in a warm embrace. He brushed strands of hair out of Danny’s eyes, happy that he was allowed to give such pleasure to this gorgeous creature.

The two eventually moved back to their bed. The blanket they fucked on now twirled around them. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” Roy announced. Danny yanked him back down when he attempted to get up.

“Don’t leave me,” Danny whined like a sad child.

“I’m just gonna shower, babe. You don’t wanna, too?”

Danny shook his head, “I hate showering.”

Roy looked at him with a blank expression. “You have cum in your asshole.”

“I like your cum in my asshole.” Roy rolled his eyes, but Danny didn’t let go. “Cuddle me until I fall asleep,” he pouted. Roy could never say no to Danny. Besides, he was practically half asleep anyway. Roy crawled back into bed, taking Danny in his arms. Danny clung to Roy, flinging himself around him. Roy’s hand slipped into Danny’s hair. He began massaging his scalp, knowing all Danny needed to fall asleep was someone playing with his hair. The younger moaned at the contact, nuzzling his face into Roy’s chest.

Soon Danny was snoring. Like trying to get through security beams Roy contorted his way out of Danny’s grip, pushing the blanket into his arms so he’d have something to hold while Roy was showering.

Twenty minutes later Danny hadn’t moved from where Roy left him. His naked body wrapped around the blanket Roy put in his arms. Roy didn’t have as much luck with sleep as his fiancé did. He stayed up for most of the night. At one point he got so bored he actually woke Courtney up via texts to harass her into teaching him how to make a boomerang. He took one of Danny lying in bed fast asleep, wrote can’t sleep on the video, and posted it to Adore’s Instagram story. Roy chuckled to himself thinking about Adore’s fans trying to figure out how she posted that.

Roy took another one just for them. One of him kissing Danny’s forehead as he slept. He saved it to Danny’s phone for him to find whenever he would.

——

“Honey, I’m home,” Roy called out as he entered their hotel room. He tossed his coat on the floor by the door. Just one of the less desirable habits of Danny’s that he had picked up over time.

“In here,” Danny yelled from the bathroom. Roy made his way to him, the sight in the bathroom struck a terror through his soul. The whole place was covered in red. The sink, the counter, the mirror, the floors, the shirt his fiancé was wearing. Danny turned around and it made Roy go pale. The red stained his arms all the way up to his elbows. “Hi, Willow,” Danny greeted cheerfully as if nothing was wrong.

Roy grabbed Danny’s wrists to inspect him with wide eyes and a racing heart. “Danny, baby, what happened?” Roy spoke frantically. He cupped his cheek where there was a splatter of red.

“I’m dyeing my wig.” Roy’s face changed from soft eyes and a concerned look to an unamused expression. He dropped his hand from Danny’s face. “What?” Danny followed him out into the room.

“Don’t you already have a red wig?” Roy questioned, deciding to bypass the fact he thought Danny had severed an artery.

“Yeah, but I didn’t bring that one. I thought I would use the pink wig for Ariel, but then I fell down a YouTube hole. Now my blonde wig’s red!” Danny was so pleased with himself it was actually pretty cute.

Roy chuckled, “So you have a red wig, but decided to dye the blonde wig that I bought you red?”

“Yeah. I can buy another blonde wig.”

“But I bought you that one. It was a nice, expensive wig.”

“You can buy me another one then!” Roy groaned. “Stop being a crab,” Danny teased. He moved to sit on Roy’s lap, bopping his lose with a finger that had extra dye on it. “How was the show? Did Courm talk through it? She always talks through everything.”

“You guys have that in common,” Roy mumbled. “It was good. We got to go backstage and meet her,” Roy said with a smile.

“That’s sick, babe! Did anything else happen?”

“Other than that it was a regular show. I mean it was amazing, but that was the cherry on top.”

Danny grinned at how Roy was beaming. Sometimes it was difficult to get Roy to talk about the things he liked. When he did it was utterly adorable. “I’m glad you had fun, babe,” Danny kissed his cheek. “I have to finish dyeing my wig, and you,” Danny poked his chest, “should get some sleep before the show tomorrow.” They kissed each other goodnight before parting incase Roy fell asleep before Danny was done. “Oh, wipe the dye off your nose before you go to bed,” Danny giggled before running into the bathroom.

“What?” Roy wiped his nose to find a dye stain on the back of his hand. “You little fuck!” He yelled. Roy heard Danny cackling from the bathroom.

—— Adore and Bianca walked hand and hand into Courtney’s dressing room where they had all decided to meet when they were done getting ready.

Courtney and Darienne shared a look before Courtney rolled on top of her. The blonde simulated riding Darienne while they both started moaning obnoxiously in an exaggerated tone.

“Oh, Roy, that feels so good! Fuck me! Fuck me!” Courtney took on the task of mimicking Danny.

“Shit, Danny! You’re so amazing! Dan, baby!” Darienne took on the task of mimicking Roy.

“I love you,” Courtney whined in an annoyingly high pitched voice.

“I love you more, baby,” Darienne made kissy faces at Courtney while smacking her ass.

Bianca just rolled her eyes at the pair. She didn’t appreciate the mocking, but it was all in good fun. The day Bianca Del Rio made a fuss about a silly joke was the day she quit drag and started her career knitting scarfs on Etsy.  

“You guys are assholes,” Adore chuckled along with them. She wasn’t one to be shy about her sexuality.

“From what we heard I’m surprised you’re walking with the beating yours took,” Darienne couldn’t help herself. Adore covered her open mouth. She was stuck between being shocked and rolling on the floor cackling. Her eyes shifted over towards Bianca who had completely detached herself from the situation. She sat in a folding chair in a corner of the room while scrolling through her phone. Adore walked over to her and gave her shoulders a comforting squeeze.

“You guys talk a lot during sex. Is that some new kink the kids are into?” Darienne really, really could not help herself from continuing.

“Don’t shame them!” Courtney smacked her arm. She turned her attention to the couple, “Communication is key during sex. It’s not only sweet, but necessary how many times you checked on Dorey. I’m proud of you guys,” Courtney said like the overbearing, yet well meaning mother she was.

Bianca shot her a look of disgust, “What the fuck? Did you guys listen to us the whole time?”

Courtney nodded her head. “With our ears pressed to the wall,” Darienne said.

“Don’t do that again.”

“Yeah, that’s actually really uncomfortable,” Adore backed Bianca up though she didn’t necessarily care herself.

The two threw their hands up in defeat.

“Sorry.”

“Our bad.”

——

Thank you for being a friend…

Adore bounced around backstage, the adrenaline from the show still coursing through her veins. When Bianca walked in from behind the curtain Adore jumped into her arms. Bianca embraced her warmly. “I suppose you had fun,” Bianca said as she patted Adore on the back. A smile still plastered on her own face.  

Adore was so ramped  up she still hopped in place as Bianca held her. Courtney and Darienne walked pass without a second glance. They were much too used to the couple by now to be phased by their affection. “That was fucking awesome! I haven’t enjoyed a show like that in a while.” Adore broke away from their hug to start walking back to the dressing rooms. Bianca grabbed her hand, holding it tightly and gently tugging her back a few steps so they could walk side by side.

“I had fun too,” Bianca agreed. “It felt more comfortable than usual.”

“No shit,” Adore was quick in her response. “You held my hand a lot,” She teased, waving their joined hands in the air.

“I did,” Bianca said nonchalantly.

“And you pretended to fuck me…And,” Adore said with more of an inflection in her tone, “you joked about fucking me.”

“I did that as well.”

“Even after getting all pouty when Courm and Darienne did it,” Adore poked Bianca’s cheek.

Bianca shrugged, “It helps if I do it. If I do, they can’t.”

Adore nodded. She understood how that made sense. “What do you think the fans are gonna think?”

“I don’t think I care what anybody might think.”

—— Roy held Danny’s hand as he took off his makeup. Danny had decided to wear his face for a bit longer. “We have to sleep on the bus tonight,” Roy reminded him.

“I hate the bus.”

“I know you do. Do you think we’ll both be able to squeeze into one bunk?” Roy didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to sleep in the same bed as his fiancé. Their schedules had gotten so hectic lately they were lucky to spend a full twenty four hours together.

“Probably. You’re tiny, Roy. You don’t take up much space.”

——

“I hate the bus,” Danny sighed as he approached theirs.

“I know, babe,” Roy rubbed his shoulder.

They climbed up the short staircase into the bus and stored away their luggage. Danny pushed back a bed curtain, “They look like a decent size. If we squish together we should be able to fit.”

“You guys can not have sex on this bus,” Courtney said in passing. “We’re gonna be right next to you!”

“Yeah, no shitting or fucking on the bus,” Darienne added.

“Fuck you guys! It was okay when you had your ear pressed up to the wall listening to us,” Roy shot back.

“Yeah, fuck off!” Danny laughed. “Who could even fuck in these tiny ass beds anyway?” He rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his fiancé. “Get in, let’s see if we can make this happen.”

Roy climbed into the bunk. “It is pretty roomy.” He held out a hand for Danny to take as he crawled in.

“Oh, yeah. This is fine.” Danny laid down. Roy had to situate himself a bit. Once he did he ended up in the perfect position to lay his head on Danny’s chest while being cuddled. His eyes began to grow heavy. His hand was under Danny’s shirt rubbing his stomach.

“I’m gonna go to sleep, Dan,” He mumbled, his journey to slumber already in motion.

“Goodnight, Willow,” Danny kissed him on the forehead. He rested his chin on Roy’s head, shutting his eyes and attempting to get some sleep on this bumpy ride himself.

——

Bianca stood behind Adore in their dressing room, brushing through her long pink wig. She pretended that she was helping her get ready, but Adore had been done for last twenty minutes. Bianca just wanted an excuse to touch her. She noticed her fiancé staring down at her engagement ring with a look of sadness, spinning it around on her finger. “Is something wrong?” Bianca asked nervously.

Her words shook Adore out of her thoughts. “What?” Adore looked up at Bianca. She shook her head when she realized what she was asking. “Oh, no, I just…,” Adore trailed off, beginning to fiddle with her ring again. She didn’t want to sound stupid, but she knew Bianca would never make her feel that way. “I hate having to take it off. It feels wrong.”

Bianca sat down in the chair next to her, taking her hand in hers. “Babe, look at me,” Bianca waited for Adore to look her in the eyes. “Do you want to tell our fans that we’re engaged?”

“Hell no,” Adore shot that idea down as quickly as Bianca proposed it. She sighed seeing Bianca’s expression fall. “I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t want people to know. We’ve made it this far this smoothly because we’re quiet about it. I don’t want people to know, but I wish they did. I wanna be able to wear my ring,” Adore’s tone dripped in defeat.

Bianca squeezed her hand. “It doesn’t matter if they know, Danny. We do. We know, and that’s all that’s important.” Adore smiled weakly at her. She appreciated her fiancé trying to make her feel better, but it didn’t help.

“C’mon cunts! Showtime’s in ten minutes!” Courtney called into their dressing room.

Adore slid her ring off of her finger. “Showtime,” She said dryly before dropping it into a lock and key jewelry box.

—— “We’re engaged!” Bianca screamed at Adore on stage. Adore’s eyes widened. She held back the enormous smile attempting to break out on her face.

Adore didn’t know what to do or how to react; So she wrapped her entire body around Bianca’s from behind. In hindsight that only made the situation look more suspicious, but if Bianca could be as bold as she had been on stage Adore hugging her wouldn’t do much damage. —— “What the hell was that?” Adore slapped Bianca playfully on the arm when they got backstage.

“You said you wanted people to know without them really knowing, so…”

Adore’s mouth dropped. She couldn’t believe Bianca would go out on an edge like that just to make her feel better. It was perfect, too. Nobody knew if Bianca was completely joking, or joking because she was completely serious. Adore threw her arms around Bianca’s neck, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “You’re the absolute best, B.”

—— Danny had a solo show to be at on their day off. Roy spent the night drinking and missing him. As Adore was getting ready her phone started to blow up with notifications

Husband 🌸💛💍💕 I mizss yowu

Husband 🌸💛💍💕 owhen are ydou comiong bacsk

Husband 🌸💛💍💕 ?

Husband 🌸💛💍💕 No funm wkithout youi

Husband 🌸💛💍💕 :(

Danny giggled at his phone. How lucky was he to have a fiancé who when they got drunk only thought about telling him how much they missed him?  

Danny ❤️ It’s only been half a day baby

Danny ❤️ I’ll be back in a few hours okay?

Danny ❤️ I love you I miss you too 💗

Husband 🌸💛💍💕 No coyme bcak nnow plebase t

Danny frowned at the ‘please’. Roy was so adorable.

Danny ❤️ Three more hours and I’ll be on my way

Danny ❤️ Are you still out?

Danny ❤️ Make Courtney or Darienne take you back to the bus to sleep a little

Danny ❤️ I think you might be a bit too drunk babe

Husband 🌸💛💍💕 Okya

Husband 🌸💛💍💕 I loove yoku

Husband 🌸💛💍💕 Cone bzack soon

Danny ❤️ I‘m coming right back after this show my love

Danny ❤️ Get some rest I’ll wake you up when I get back 💚

Husband 🌸💛💍💕 Ghoofnight

——

That was a wrap. The ABCD tour had ended. Roy and Danny went out to celebrate and spend time together before Roy had to start press for his next show. They pounded back shot after shot. Occasionally one would pull the other into a hidden corner of the club or a bathroom stall for a makeout session. Roy had a few too many drinks over his limit by the time they were making last call.

The couple clasped hands so they wouldn’t get separated in the large crowd pouring out of the bar. Unfortunately, their efforts had failed. Danny was no where to be found when Roy managed to stumble outside. Scared, confused, and most of all drunk, Roy started crying. “Danny?!” He sobbed, calling out for the man. In his altered state losing Danny was much more dramatic than it actually was. He thought he’d never see him again. That Danny had been whisked away in some Taken-style ambush which Roy was in no condition to Liam Neesan his way out of it.

Roy frowned. The wind blowing against tears streaming down his face made his cheeks cold. He plopped down onto the ground, leaning up against a potted plant. “Dan?!” Roy yelled for his fiancé again. He didn’t know what he was gonna do without Danny. How was he suppose to gather the will to get up from this spot knowing he’d never see—

“Roy?!” The older man perked up when he heard Danny’s voice. “Roy!” The sound got closer and soon Danny was standing in front of him. Roy’s eyes lit up. He reached out for Danny, who immediately helped him off of the dirty street. Danny secured an arm tightly around Roy’s waist to keep him from falling. “Baby, why are you crying?” Danny brushed his tears away. Red flashed before Danny’s eyes; His hands balled into fists instinctively. “Did someone hurt you? Is that why you were on the ground?” He began working himself up into an angry frenzy. Danny examined Roy’s face for any budding bruises or cuts. “I’ll fucking kill them. Who was it?” He looked out into the sea of people still buzzing around the bar. “Do you see them?”

Roy looked at him as if he had grown two heads. “No! I thought I lost you forever,” Roy slurred out an explanation, burying his face in Danny’s chest as he hugged him tighter.

“Oh,” Danny only had a split second to feel silly before he started comforting his fiancé. “I’m here. You were never gonna lose me,” Danny rubbed a soothing hand over his back. Roy was smashed. Danny had a few drinks, but thankfully for Roy’s sake he hadn’t reached anywhere near his level. Danny scooped Roy up in his arms bridal style without any trouble. “Let’s get you back to the hotel, yeah?” Roy nodded. Danny kissed him on the head.

“I’m gonna sleep here,” Roy said as Danny started walking. He leaned his head against Danny’s shoulder, closing his eyes for rest. Danny smiled down at him.

It was a short walk to the hotel, filled with a lot less stares than Danny expected carrying around a grown man passed out in his arms. The front desk gave him a bit of trouble, but once he showed the woman working their matching tattoos, engagement video, and Courtney running down in a bath towel to vouch for them she let them upstairs with a promise that she would be checking in on them at some point to make sure everything was okay.

Danny laid Roy down in bed carefully. He started untying his shoes and pulling them off when Roy woke up. “Hey, Mr. I can do all these shots my tolerance level is higher than you,” Danny teased, keeping his voice low and soft.

Roy groaned. Still just as drunk as he was before, looking at Danny caused him to burst into tears. Danny’s face fell as quickly as Roy’s breakdown came on. He crawled up the bed, wrapping Roy’s entire body in his arms and moving him to sit in his lap. “My love, calm down,” Danny rocked him back and forth. He treated Roy as if he was trying to comfort a child having a tantrum (little did he know he would be doing just that with their own kids in a few years time) since he assumed all of this was brought on by the alcohol. “What’s wrong, Roy? You have to tell me what’s wrong so I can make it better,” Danny cooed to him, combing his fingers through Roy’s short hair a few times.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Roy managed to get out between sobs and hiccuping.

“Willow, you’re drunk,” Danny tried to reassure him. “You’ll feel better when you sleep this off.” It just upset him further. Roy pushed Danny away from him.

“No! It’s not that! I miss you all the time. Everyday,” Roy’s crying grew heavier. “I never get to hold you or kiss you. I never get to hug you when I want to hug you. I wanna hug you! I wanna wake up and you’re right,” Roy drunkly slapped the opposite side of the bed, “there. I wanna talk to you, not to a stupid phone on stupid FaceTime. I wanna hold your hand while we wear our rings.”

Sure, if Roy was sober he’d be making a more eloquent argument, but Danny was brought to tears by the end of it nonetheless. There was nothing Danny could do to make it better. Everything Roy listed off couldn’t be fixed without a career change and mirrored how Danny often felt himself. He laced his fingers with Roy’s. “I know. I miss you too,” He said sadly. “But we’ve made this work for years. We’re Roy and Danny. Bianca and Adore. We’re not gonna let anything break us up, or make us feel like what we have isn’t special and worth fighting through all that shit to have it. We’re together forever, asshole,” Danny squeezed his hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “You’re stuck with me,” Danny smiled at his fiancé, managing to get a smile in return.