#endgame can choke

[swordgrace]

𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘.

༺ aemond targaryen x fem!reader.

SYNOPSIS: in the aftermath of rook’s rest, you seek aemond out to inquire about his wellbeing. instead, you find him somewhere else — somewhere unexpected. (set after S2 EP4).

༺ FORMAT: one-shot — not requested.

༺ WORD COUNT: 5.2K.

༺ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni) , spoilers for s2 ep4, public sex / risk of getting caught, knifeplay, imbalance of power, rough sex, darkish!aemond, dom!aemond, p in v sex (unprotected), oral (f!receiving), fingering, brief tiddy sucking, groping, biting / marking, hair pulling, choking, fucking right in front of the iron throne, inaccurate high valyrian, brief dirty talk, lots of aemond’s inner thoughts, breeding kink if you squint, aemond is extremely possessive of the reader to an unhealthy degree.

༺ AUTHOR’S NOTE: to preface, I am working on requests, this just happened to make its way out of my brain before anything else did. This was inspired by the single shot of Aemond standing in front of the Iron Throne in the S2 EP5 trailer, you can tell how desperate I got as soon as I saw it. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! There will be a Jace fic dropping tomorrow, too! ❤️

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄 — a seat of power constructed by Aegon the Conqueror in the aftermath of a bloodied war, forged from thousands of surrendered swords.

In the days of Aegon the Conqueror, it was said that the Throne was sometimes too high to climb, a jagged labyrinth of blades melded by dragon’s fire, a throne fit for any ruler. Men impaled themselves upon one another’s blades for it, turned against one another, endless betrayals and treacheries ensued all for the sake of the endgame, to see themselves upon the Throne.

Brother turned against brother — you didn’t expect anything less from Aemond, whose desire to exact revenge boiled just beneath the surface. The Battle at Rook’s Rest had proved a slaughter on all fronts, between the decimation of both Cole’s armies and the castle they laid siege upon, to the death of the Princess Rhaenys and her dragon, Melys.

Whispers spread through the Red Keep in regards to King Aegon’s condition, bones crushed beneath the weight of Sunfyre, who plummeted from the skies in a ball of fire. His flesh was scorched, half of his body melded to the Valyrian Steel armor he wore, burnt beyond recognition.

If they were to be believed, King Aegon was gravely wounded — and if a fatality ensued, who would then bear the mantle of King?

A restless dusk gripped King’s Landing as the surviving soldiers from Cole’s armies arrived at the city gates, King Aegon amongst the wounded. In what you considered to be a mass panic and hysteria, Maesters rushed to diligently attend to their King, who seemed to be meeting a simmering grave inside of his armor — it would be his tomb if they weren’t careful.

Merely a handmaiden and servant to nobility, the antics of your masters didn’t interest you — you were wholly preoccupied with your own survival and self-preservation, amongst other things. It was said that Aemond and Vhagar had swarmed the battlefield and come to King Aegon’s defense, but by the time they had, Aegon had been swallowed by dragonfire.

Part of you had difficulty believing that Aemond truly attempted to save his elder brother, given Aemond’s embittered sentiments. Your relationship with the Prince had transcended all bonds of propriety — and if anyone were to find out, they would likely have your head for sullying his virtue.

Nevertheless, as chaos swarmed around you, you knew exactly who to seek out. Queen Alicent had little desire to be hounded by handmaidens while her eldest son struggled to hang onto his own life, something you could understand. Instead, you made for Aemond’s chambers, the route embedded into your mind.

You sought him — all of him. His lilac hue, a maelstrom of forlorn emotions, and his silvery tresses, like cascading silk, embedded themselves into your mind. His cunning countenance and beguiled expression were like hot-iron brands cast onto your thoughts, tormenting you with each waking moment.

As you stepped closer to the Throne Room, no longer guarded by Kingsguard, you saw the great door ajar — no King atop the throne. You wondered if he would live, Aegon — a drunken, broken man who preferred his cups and whores over ruling — or if he would perish.

You knew who would sit the Iron Throne, should Aegon fall.

A heavy darkness had befallen the throne room, fitting for the many tragedies, like the gloom of a shadow haunting all who dared to enter. Curiosity gripped you as you stepped inside, a place well above your station, yet you wondered if there was anyone inside.

The doors remained shut, save for the one you slipped through, the gap slim. Flickering braziers provided some illumination to such a grandeur hall, but it seemed so dour and lifeless without the presence of the day, without subjects fluttering in and out. Instead, it provided an ominous sense of dread, as if luring those inside with dark omens and false promises.

A familiar crown of silvery tresses stood at the very center, before the throne — he didn’t need to turn around for you to know who it was. He seemed entirely unscathed by the battle at Rook’s Rest, hands carefully folded behind his back, posture poised and dignified.

Aegon’s dagger flashed within his right hand, clutched tightly at his side. You wondered how he had acquired the blade so swiftly after a tragedy — but you knew. You had always known of Aemond’s nature, of his restrained resentment towards his brother, the King of the Seven Kingdoms.

“Aemond.” Your voice reverberated throughout the throne room, carrying a fair distance as you closed the door behind you. The studded mahogany groaned in protest, yet bent to your will as it closed with a noisy thud. Admittedly, you were surprised to see him here, and not in the comfort of his chambers.

He didn’t move, rigid and still as you quietly approached, dresses sweeping across the smooth stone beneath you. His violet hues remained transfixed upon the Iron Throne, a throne that would soon be his, if fate favored him. So many swords, so much strife and conflict that forged such a chair — so much bloodshed.

Aemond often wondered what the weight of the crown would feel like upon his brow — and even then, he knew he would wear it better than Aegon ever could. He had stood by the wayside for far too long, learned in his studies and a talented swordsman, wondering if it would all have some reward, some payoff.

Now, his opportunity was swiftly approaching.

Whatever anger he’d often kept leashed, it had struck out, like the bite of a poisonous viper, sinking into its prey with all its bitter viciousness. It was the same tempestuous rage that had lashed at Lucerys Velaryon, and now it had struck his brother, Aegon the Magnanimous.

A stupid sobriquet for a stupid man — a drunken fool. Aemond would simply pass it off as an unfortunate accident, with Aegon carelessly stepping into the line of fire whilst tangling with the Queen Who Never Was. Swift decisions had to be made on his part, his brother a victim of such action.

Any silver-tongued words that would placate his Mother, he was prepared to let them fly. Aemond knew enough to know that the consequences would be slim, and those of true action and cruel intentions would take Aegon’s place — men like himself.

Soft footfalls fell across black stone, and you called his name again, like a siren’s song luring the sailor into deeper waters. “Aemond.” It was saccharine, dripping with genuine warmth that the Prince was simply unaccustomed to.

The unexpected lull of your voice broke his fixation, and he looked to you with a gaze full of desire. It was a farcry from the frustrated, despondent man you’d encountered days prior following the incident at the brothel. There was a newfound fire within his eyes, a confidence restored — a sense of triumph.

Admittedly, you were rather perplexed by this invigorated side to Aemond — that wild gleam within his lilac eye only seemed to grow in intensity as you approached him. “I heard the news of what happened to your brother,” You began, pondering his reaction. “You have my deepest sympathies.”

The admiration he had for you only seemed to blossom, knowing that you were simply keeping up appearances for his sake. Aemond’s mouth tilted into the ghost of a smirk, feigning melancholy despite the truth of his own actions. “It was a horrible thing, what happened to the King,” He uttered, glancing toward the throne. “I wish for his swift recovery.”

A facade was a mere understatement — you could almost taste the smug bemusement that rested within Aemond’s tone. The slight quirk of his mouth, the manner in which he spoke — his sympathies for Aegon were nonexistent.

“As any good brother would.” You replied, stepping closer until you stood before the Iron Throne, gaze falling upon the thousands of swords swarming the seat, blades of many shapes and sizes. You wondered about the people behind each sword — who swung it, what their lives must’ve been like.

A brief hum escaped Aemond, who observed you hawkishly as you approached, violet hue greedily drinking you in as he had many times before. You had stood so faithfully by his side, never admonished him for the brash actions taken against his family, never deemed him pathetic for what happened at the brothel.

He cared little for your station, little for your status as a lowborn — if he sat the Iron Throne, he could have whatever he wanted. It didn’t matter if you were a commoner, Aemond could envision you as his wife, a Queen — no longer bowing to the whims of greater men and women who cared little for you.

“Did my Mother dismiss you this evening?” Aemond questioned, digits tense around the pommel of Aegon’s knife — now his. Seeing as he was no longer fit to carry the weapon, it was only just that it pass to his brother, his next of kin.

“She did,” A gentle exhale escaped you, one that allowed you to maintain your composure. Being in Aemond’s presence seemed to make you dizzy with desire with each passing moment — not a new sentiment, but an intoxicating one. “I was coming to find you, to see if you were well after the battle.”

Shamelessly, Aemond became quite aroused at the thought of you wandering about the Red Keep with the single-minded desire to see him. His blood ran hot after the battle — the surge of adrenaline did not lessen in your presence.

His jaw tensed slightly as he appraised you, taking a step closer, brazenly closing the distance between you both. He could smell your perfume, the warm bouquet of flowers and a touch of honey. “How thoughtful.” His voice dropped to a low purr, dripping with the first inklings of lust.

Your breath hitched, words turning to ash upon your tongue as your fingers curled into your dress. Aemond enticed you in ways that no man had before — and he saw you, a woman beneath the gowns of a servant. The hammering of your heart within your chest had stirred something powerful — your want for him consumed you like a tidal wave.

Before you could utter his name, he descended like a starving wolf to kiss you, open-mouthed and bleeding lust. You shivered, wanting to coax him into returning to his chambers before things became heated. His hand dropped to seize your hip, hauling you closer to him until no space was left between your bodies.

You reciprocated his kiss, able to hear a faint growl of approval building up within his throat. It was fiery and hot, with little concern of who might see you. Aemond was growing emboldened, brazen knowing the power he now held within his grasp.

“We should return to your quarters,” You whispered, a strained whimper tearing past your lips as Aemond kissed your jaw, sucking at the flesh of your neck. “Aemond, we can’t — not here.” Your breathy pleas fell upon deaf ears — what better place to claim you than before his new throne?

“We can,” Aemond murmured, pushing your tresses aside as he claimed your throat, laying waste to your flesh in his rabid kisses and hungry bites. “The rest of the Keep is preoccupied.” His reassurance was threadbare at best, but you were beginning to slip off of the deep end, fingers clawing at his tunic.

“What if someone sees?” Fear trickled into your voice, a subtle fright that Aemond found to be enticing. You worried for your own skin — he could understand that. A moan escaped you as Aemond nipped at your jugular, squeezing at your hips.

You failed to comprehend that he would protect you, shield you if needed. He did not need to justify his obsession for you, just as Aegon never offered any justification for his nightly whore hunts. Aemond seemed quick to soothe your worry, hand clasping at the nape of your neck.

“Then I will have their head,” His delectable purr dropped an octave, scratching the itch within your head. “You needn’t worry, ñuha dōna. I can do whatever I wish.” Aemond assured you, a great fire burning within his lilac hue. The leather of his eyepatch concealed the listless sapphire beneath.

He only needed to serve himself — his family cared little for him, and the world was often against him. He looked forward to facing Daemon whenever the time came, should he be bold enough to challenge him. Aemond dismissed it all — Aegon, his mother, Criston Cole — the only thing that mattered were the both of you.

Aemond’s streak of possessiveness had grown into something uncontrollable, a festering desire to keep you close, spiraling into obsession. You were many things to him, many things he coveted for himself.

After a moment of hesitation, you decided to make things tempting for Aemond, loosening the bodice of your dress. His breath hitched, the noise subtle if one wasn’t observant enough. He seized the back of your head once more, hungrily pressing his lips to yours, consuming you in another heated kiss.

A dour portrait of dusk hovers around the Red Keep, its shadowy tendrils slinking into the throne room. Only moonlight and dying braziers are your guide, and Aemond is at his prettiest whenever he’s touched by the silvery rays. It strikes his narrow visage, paints his silky tresses in pale light.

He is closer to a god now than he is a man — fortunately, you were willing to return to religion if it meant that Aemond was who you worshiped. As much as you liked to believe it was the foundation of your relationship, he thought of it alternatively, the roles reversed.

Your digits slip beneath the overcoat he wore, marred by speckled dirt and brimstone. His broad, sinewy shoulders are concealed by his tunic, and he seems vastly overdressed compared to you, still wearing your servant’s clothes. Aemond had gotten you a dress to wear with him before — you never wore it otherwise.

There is a certain intensity in the way he kisses you, as if each embrace might be your last. In the aftermath of a battle, you understand such sentiments, given the fate of the King and the Princess Rhaenys.

A growl reverberates within the depths of his throat as he pries his mouth away from you, gesturing toward the flight of obsidian steps that ascend toward the Iron Throne. “There,” He uttered, more of a command than a suggestion. “Lay down.”

A shudder rolls down the length of your spine, followed by an onslaught of goosebumps that snake across your flesh like a fever. Your stomach churned with anticipation, filling with the sensation of sloshing heat, burning brighter as each moment passed.

Without question, you step toward the throne, noticing the sharpness of some blades, the dullness of others. You find your footing upon the last step, feeling Aemond stalk closer. The rustling of his belt makes you shiver, only to find the steely chill of the Conqueror’s knife pressed against the dip between your shoulder and neck.

Aemond closes in behind you, caging you against his chest, like a predator swarming hapless prey. His narrow nose brushed along your soft tresses as he dragged the tip of the knife from your shoulder to ribcage. “Shall I cut this from you?” He uttered, digging the Valyrian steel into the fabric of your dress.

Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, you brace yourself for the bite of the knife, for the unruly tear of fabric, but it never comes. Instead, Aemond’s mouth pressed vigorous kisses against your neck, hand seizing you by the throat.

“Ao sytilībagon naejot nyke.” Aemond purred, feeling you turn within his grasp. Desire oozed between you both, an onslaught of carnality soon to follow. His lilac hue flickered over your countenance, drinking in your beauty with unrestrained rapture. You belong to me.

From what little High Valyrian you’d learned in the time you’ve been with Aemond, you strung enough of the sentence together to know what he meant. “Iksan aōhon.” A soft whimper emerged from between your parted lips, noticing the way his pupil dilated with amorous intent.

I am yours.

A flame of obsession roared within his gaze, enough to burn you alive where you stood. Aemond reveled in your submission to him, drank in your devotion — a devotion that would prove fruitful, should he ascend the throne. The tip of the knife prodded into your sternum, and you absentmindedly leaned forward.

Aemond captured your mouth once more, laying claim to you — his paramour. There was nothing sweeter than your desperate mewls and reciprocated passion, the succor of your mouth, the saccharine scent of your perfume.

The both of you descended to the floor, icy and stony as it prodded into your back. He knelt between your legs, gaze momentarily flickering between the shadow of the Iron Throne and your mesmerized visage. Aemond kissed you again, nipping at your lower lip before rucking up your skirts, pushing them toward your hips.

With one knee, he bullied his way in between your thighs, breaths heavier, wrought with anticipation as he lowered his mouth to your collarbone. In one smooth tug, he loosened your bodice, wrestling with the coarse material as he buried his face into your silky skin.

The throes of passion filled the air — short gasps and labored pants accompanied by the constant shuffling of fabric. “Aemond,” You moaned, watching as he bit the leather of his glove, removing the garment in one jerk of his head. Flesh to flesh, he moved to drag his digits along your weeping slit. “Aemond.” Urgency crept into your voice, strung-out by need.

“Hm,” His cajoling hum sent shivers down your spine, heat sloshing around within your stomach. Arousal pooled between your thighs, nectar sticky and gathering swiftly. “What a delicious gift you’ve given me.” Aemond uttered, slender digits continuing to stroke at your cunt, his pace agonizingly slow.

Lifting his fingers to his lips, he let them rest upon his tongue, gathering your juices to taste. A satisfied grunt of approval escaped him, one that made you meld into the floor. It was an uncomfortable surface, yet any thought of discomfort dissipated the moment Aemond’s lips pressed against the inside of your knee.

Instinctively, your hands flew toward his crown of silken tresses, digging in with an ironclad hold. Aemond released a low hiss of satisfaction, pressing hot kisses along the inside of your thigh. He dipped lower, breath fanning across your cunt.

His tongue raked hot embers across your aching core, delivering a series of deliberate strokes that were sure to make you squirm. Aemond preferred to savor you, consuming every drop of your nectar as if it were the finest of wines.

“Aemond!” Your voice rose above the cacophony of lewd noises ensuing below, noisy enough to reverberate throughout the throne room. It worried you, the potential of someone finding you with the Prince-Regent between your legs, but pleasure began to outweigh logic.

His name felt sweet from your mouth — if Aemond had it his way, he would make you say it a thousand times over. The sharp bridge of his nose buried itself into your mound, cock twitching within the leather of his breeches.

Another breathy moan left you, stomach pooling with a rush of molten heat. It oozed between your legs as your arousal fell upon the Prince’s tongue, much to his delight. He did not waste a drop, mouth traveling wherever he pleased, lapping at every inch of your cunt.

The Iron Throne overshadowed the both of you, a jagged mess of swords surrounded by dusk. Slats of moonlight trickled in from the stained glass above, falling across his visage, violet hue sparkling with lust. His lips greedily kissed at your clit, causing your hips to lurch forward.

“Look at me.” A pointed demand spoken from an edged tongue, one that commanded your attention without wavering. With a strangled moan, you turned your head to him, furthering the fire within your belly. Your doe-eyed stare locked onto him, lips falling apart.

As your eyes flickered over his poised features, your hand tightened within his tresses, coaxing him closer toward the apex of your thighs. Aemond wasn’t sly at suppressing the delight he felt in that moment, greedily lapping at your cunt.

You watched, enthralled by the ministrations of his mouth, the flick of his tongue, the tantalizing efforts made to draw you back in. His features were carved like marble, by the steady hand of a sculptor — godly, in the best way possible.

Aemond hoped that your blissful cries would alert the guards — perhaps, all could bear witness to his carnal delights, know that you belonged to him and him alone. His lips crawled to a sluggish pace, made only to torment you as he peppered feather-light kisses against your clit. The lack of pressure nearly made you wretch, digits curling into a fist.

Every fiber of your being felt as if it had been set ablaze, washed within the fires of his affection. He knew your body well, as well as he knew his own, tongue dipping to have a taste of your core as it lightly jutted against your entrance. You whimpered, the noise pathetic and pitiful, yet overwhelmingly eager.

“Please,” You moaned, breathy and clawing for some shred of release, canting your hips forward. Aemond retreated, just enough to leave you writing upon the steps before a sly chuckle reverberated between your thighs. His torture of you was playful and intimate, intended to make you beg. “Please, Aemond!”

How could he deny you when you sounded so sweet?

With a soft hum, Aemond returned to devour your cunt, drink from the nectar that oozed between your legs. His hands situated themselves against your thighs, nails digging in enough to leave behind traces of angered crescent marks.

The heat between your legs intensified, arousal stinging your bones, body bent underneath Aemond’s will as he lapped at your core. His lips were accompanied by his spindly digits as two fingers prodded at your entrance, feeling the crescendo of your whimpers before sinking themselves into your tight cunt.

Squelching intermingled with that of brazen pants and your myriad of moans, a cacophony of lust that permeated the throne room. It felt sinful, to defile the steps of a seat of power, but that shame swiftly contorted into bliss — it felt good.

It felt good to be desired, for Aemond to feel not an ounce of regret or remorse for being with you or for the carnage his actions wrought. The darkness that festered within his eye only grew, once a flickering shade, now growing into something sprawling.

At last, his lips pursed around your clit, stimulating that sensitive clutch of nerves. Your back arched from the stone, thighs rattling like falling leaves as he brought about your ruin. His digits viciously pumped in and out of your cunt, preparing you for the act that was to follow.

His tongue lashed across his lower lip, not wasting a drop of what sweetness you provided him with. Aemond’s mouth hastily abandoned your cunt, yet the curling of his fingers seemed to make up for the loss of pleasure. You felt his wet lips purse around the pebbled peak of your breast, suckling like a greedy babe.

Aemond’s senses drowned in desire, cock throbbing within his trousers, desperate to be inside of you. It wouldn’t be much longer now as he bit and kissed your chest, letting the work manifest as love bites, evidence of his carnal want for you.

“I need you, Aemond. I need you inside of me.” The suddenness of your words left him reeling, a snarl stirring within his chest as his teeth gnashed into the soft flesh between your breasts. You longed to feel his cock lay waste to your cunt, for him to fuck away his anger, his frustration.

Hastily, his hand flew to the ties of his breeches, loosening the threads of leather. You grabbed the front of his tunic, enough to effectively grab his attention as you pulled him in for a hot kiss. Passion bled through, and you could taste yourself upon his tongue as it danced with yours.

The warmth of his cockhead prodded against your folds, already slick with your cum and his own. It was messy, an entanglement born of desire, of the will to possess one another — a claim eternal. Aemond’s hand snaked toward your hip, the other keeping himself afloat before he snapped forward.

His cock invaded your cunt without any sluggishness to it, the deliberation gone entirely. A wild shimmer glistened within his eye, a domineering edge that seemed to wrestle with itself. Aemond wanted to submit to you, but in the wake of Rook’s Rest, adrenaline and a desire for power simply wouldn’t allow it.

As he fucked you like a hound, as Aegon had colorfully put it, Aemond could see you seated beside him, a crown upon your brow, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. A commoner, crawled from dirt and from nothing, into his arms — into a seat of power that none would dare challenge.

Fantasy consumed him, making him mad with lust. He wanted to crawl beneath your flesh, reside there, hear your heart hammering within your breast. He seemed pleasantly surprised when you claimed his mouth, your tongue advancing past his parted lips.

With your skirts having fallen to the swell of your hips, you hitched one leg around him, hand clawing at his back, between his shoulders. “Aemond,” You moaned, overwhelmed by his barrage of erratic thrusts. His stamina was something to witness as he kept a rather vigorous pace. “My King.”

A low growl stirred within his throat, a stark warning not to continue with your current line of thought. Aemond bit at your lower lip, prompting you to moan into his mouth, but you surprised him again when you reciprocated. Things were intense, far more fiery than they ever had been before.

Battle made him hot — such a sensation wasn’t aided by your presence, intensified tenfold. With Aegon wasting away inside of his chambers, steel melting into his flesh, swarmed by flocks of Maesters, Aemond felt no remorse — none at all as he fucked you before the Iron Throne.

He felt no remorse when he ordered Vhagar to burn his brother, he felt no remorse when he brought you into his bed — and he would feel no remorse when he ascended the throne and made you his Queen.

His cock furiously battered away at your cunt, the lewdness of flesh and intermingled breaths being the only sounds that mattered. That lilac hue of his studied your countenance, the devotion and rapture that rest upon it, your complete and utter joy. Aemond had been blessed with the loveliest creature — you.

The stretch you felt as Aemond invaded your nethers was a pleasant one, your walls tight around his length as he continued to fuck you. Face to face, chest to chest — there was no room left for deception, nowhere left to turn to. With a groan, Aemond kissed you yet again.

“Kesan mazverdagon ao ñuha dāria.” I will make you my Queen; he growled into your ear, biting at the shell, the act enough to make you whimper. He filled your cunt with his cock, the only one that it would ever take. In the heat of the moment, he bit at your neck, hand gripping your thigh so hard that it was bound to leave bruises.

Darkness swallowed the hallowed halls — braziers flickering out completely, leaving only moonlight. Even through the silvery haze, Aemond’s face remained a picture of living perfection, his brow creased with concentration.

The fervor of his pace began to slow, cock throbbing with an onslaught of arousal, one that flooded his body with waves of bliss. He wasn’t neglectful of your needs, swiftly placing a hand between your bodies, thumb rubbing circles around your clit.

Heavy footfalls of guardsmen resonated from outside of the sealed doors, a nightly patrol, prompting you to shiver from worry, but Aemond did not stop — and he wouldn’t. His blazing eye bared down upon you, glistening with the sheen of lust, of obsession, a man starved of the love and devotion he so desperately chased.

Your lips felt swollen, a byproduct of Aemond’s biting, of the many shared kisses that had turned into hunger. You were ravenous for him in ways that you had little knowledge of, scraping the surface of what desire truly meant.

Silky, pale tresses fell through your digits as you threaded them within his hair, gripping it in fistfuls as you continued to kiss him until every wisp of air was stolen from your lungs. Aemond did not relent, continuing to adopt a rhythmic pace of fucking you, cock halfway out before he thrust forward again and again.

As the both of you approached the precipice, falling into a white-hot abyss, you could hear him murmuring something in High Valyrian, strings of sweet praises and compliments. His thumb continued to circle your clit even after you had your release, milking his cock with an onslaught of your nectar.

Aemond grunted, forehead nudging against yours as he snapped forward one final time, cock sheathed inside of you as he found a warm place to spill his seed. The recklessness of it was of little consequence to him — an herbal tea could remedy it, yet the thought of filling you with an heir became tantalizing.

Not yet — not now.

If his seed were to take, it would sow discord across his house, and there was enough of that already. Aemond huffed, gathering his composure as your whimpers dwindled into soft pants. His claws sank so deep into you, talons wrenched into your heart, your body, everything.

He placed a kiss upon your brow, a subtle gesture that reminded you of his lingering duality. Aemond pulled himself out of you with an onslaught of stickiness, a mess that would only be remedied by a long soak in the bath — something he would need you for.

Your chest felt tight, both from exhilaration and the intensity of it all. As you adjusted your skirts back into place, Aemond gently coaxed you to your feet, pressed close against you as he stared at the throne. “Perhaps, once I ascend, we will have to make use of the throne.” His salacious purr made you shudder.

“There is no law forbidding us from acting upon that now,” You challenged, and Aemond had to restrain himself from acting upon such a lascivious impulse. For as coy as you could be, you were just as lustful as he was at times, a quality that he greatly adored. “Your Grace.”

As much as the teasing title seemed to provoke him, Aemond grabbed your hips, lips twitching into his familiar smirk, a near-permanent expression. “Aemond,” He corrected, pressing a kiss against your jaw. “For now, I will need assistance with drawing a bath.”

The Throne’s harrowing shape cast its shadow as the both of you abandoned the dark halls and into the light of Aemond’s chambers.

copyright @ swordgrace ; please do not attempt to steal or translate my works onto other platforms or claim it as your own.

[gureumz]

liar, sweetheart

rating: explicit

member: sunghoon

premise: your best friend, benj, is a twin but he's the complete opposite of his brother. his brother, sunghoon, is all kinds of sleazy, or so you've heard. knowing about your big fat crush on your best friend, this sorry excuse of a twin brother agrees to put in a good word, in exchange for a good fuck, of course.

notes: fem!reader, dom!sunghoon, sort of rivals-to-lovers, unprotected sex, slight breeding, dacryphilia, dirty talk, degradation, praise, clothed sex, accidental voyeurism, sunghoon is two people here lmao, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: fifth entry for my 1k follower special! we're in the endgame now, people. one last after this and my 1k event is ending. how did that happen :') anyways, i really got back into my writing groove for this one so i hope you all enjoy!

"what do you think of sunghoon?"

your ears perk up as you turn your head to give your best friend a look.

oh, benj. sweet, sweet benjamin park.

awkward but in a cute, boyish sort of way, tall almost to the point of gangly, but handsome in the way supermodels were.

benj is a figure skater, a very good one at that. he's at the level where if he did well enough, he'd be international news tomorrow. you've seen him skate and to you, it was nothing short of mesmerizing.

oh, you. clueless, utterly clueless you.

honestly, it was all so predictable.

a situation right out of booktok's latest favorite friends-to-lovers novel by some up-and-coming author. the comfortable silence, the memorized starbucks orders, the pining, oh, the pining. booktok lives for the pining.

sitting here in benj's room as he casually games, fingers lazily moving over his ps5 controller, you realize just how utterly shortsighted you were.

of course you'd fall in love with your best friend. it's law. it's fate. a canon event, as the kids say.

but, you're getting out of topic here. right now, benj is asking you about his twin brother.

"what do you mean?" you ask, swiveling around in the office chair by benj's desk. benj is perched on his bed, leaned up against his headboard as he plays.

"like...what do you think of him...?" benj repeats, as if in an attempt to rephrase his question but ultimately failing.

your forehead creases even more.

"you have to be more specific than that," you chuckle.

benj pauses the game, setting the controller down. he shifts on his side so he can get a better look at you.

"do you like him?" benj deadpans, raising an eyebrow.

you nearly choke on your own saliva.

sunghoon. benj's twin brother.

the younger twin, as benj always reminded. your thoughts drift to the other park brother, complete in all his dark clothes and equally dark hair.

while benj afforded himself the preference of dying his hair an icy blonde, sunghoon kept his own hair jet black. benj wore sweaters and cardigans and loose-fitting shirts, but sunghoon wore button-ups, with the first three buttons popped open, paired with jeans ripped to the heavens.

benj is the shining star in this family, a star figure skater, an overachiever. sunghoon battles his way around ice hockey, dabbles in dance, keeps his triumphs to himself.

benj is the sun, while sunghoon is the moon. yin and yang.

you get the picture.

oh, and sunghoon is a complete asshole. benj is not.

"he's okay," you finally answer. benj looks at you like he's waiting for more.

"that's it?" benj asks after a second.

you roll your eyes. "i don't know what you want me to say. i barely talk to him since i spend most of my time with you."

benj cocks his head to the side, as if curious.

"weird," he says. "he asks about you all the time."

this piques your interest.

"he does?"

benj shrugs, returning his attention to the tv. he picks the forgotten controller back up, resuming his game.

"yeah. asks if and when you'll be coming over," benj explains. he shoots you a quick side glance.

"you're not hooking up behind my back, are you?"

you physically recoil at benj's words, the idea initially repulsive to you.

"absolutely not," you practically spit out. "he's not my type."

benj bursts out laughing, his eyes forming cute crescents as he does so.

"you basically just called me ugly with that," benj points out, eyes unmoving from the tv screen.

you stutter for a second. "that's not what i meant. it's just—well we're not close, at least not like how we are and—"

you sigh, cutting yourself off. you've embarrassed yourself enough, you think.

benj shakes his head, one side of his mouth turning up in a half-smile.

"okay, no need to explain, ______. i was just asking," benj says. "but the way you're so defensive about it is raising a few questions, not gonna lie."

you rub exasperatedly at your temples.

"i am not sleeping with your brother."

---

"hey."

you nearly jump a foot back in surprise. looking up, you're met with the stern gaze of sunghoon, black hair falling over his eyes. he's wearing one of those compression shirts, ridiculously tight against his toned upper body.

you turn away before it gets weird.

"oh, sorry, is benj home?" you ask, peeking momentarily past sunghoon.

"he's at training," sunghoon informs. "didn't he tell you?"

you glance at your watch. "he said he'd be done by now."

sunghoon raises an eyebrow. "well, he's not."

your mouth falls open, your mind momentarily going blank. you shift your expression to one of stony resolve.

"you know what, i'll just come back. sorry to bother you," you say, already turning away.

"i didn't tell you to leave, did i?"

you turn back, giving sunghoon a look. you stare hard, noticing just how much he resembles benj. but some things differ, naturally.

an extra beauty mark. the slightly sharper upturn of his nose. the seemingly eternal frown on his face.

"you can come in," sunghoon says with a sigh, stepping aside. you duck your head as you cross the threshold.

"and don't be so uptight next time," he adds. you can practically hear the smirk as he says this.

you glare daggers at sunghoon and he's still smiling as he closes the door behind him. he crosses his arms and studies you.

he leans back against the door and you straighten yourself up as much as you could.

"what's your problem, sunghoon?" you ask, planting your hands on your hips.

"what's yours?" sunghoon replies. you feel a twinge of annoyance spark in your chest.

"nothing," you emphasize. "and that's exactly it. i don't have a problem but if you don't stop acting like that, i might just have one soon enough."

"acting like what?" sunghoon questions, tilting his head to the side.

you swallow. you rack your brain for something to say, and don't be mistaken, you have a lot, but it's like your train of thought has halted altogether.

"like...that," you say, gesticulating vaguely with your hands.

sunghoon laughs, a hand coming up to run through his hair. you watch him, observe as his muscles shift beneath that stupidly tight, stupidly attractive shirt.

...what?

"are you this jumpy with my brother?" sunghoon asks, shoving his hands in the pockets of his grey sweatpants.

"i don't follow," you say, taking a step back. being close to sunghoon seems suffocating now, as if the air is stuffy with something you can't quite put your finger on.

"of course, you don't," sunghoon mutters under his breath.

it takes everything in you not to punch him square in the jaw.

"you like benj, don't you?" it's more of a statement rather than a question and it's so unexpected to you, you nearly stumble back in surprise.

"what?" is all you can say.

sunghoon snorts as if your confusion is oh-so-amusing.

"no need to deny it, _______," sunghoon reassures. "everyone with one working eye can see it."

you decide to stay silent. maybe if you don't react, sunghoon would drop the subject.

sunghoon seems satisfied with himself as he grins, nodding to himself, probably mentally patting himself on the back for his 'detective work'. he brushes past you and you get a whiff of his perfume and what you can assume is his body wash.

fresh. powdery. clean.

you wait a second before you hear his bedroom door close.

you let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding.

your phone vibrates with a notification and you're relieved to see it's a message from benj.

'are you at my place yet? i'll be home in a few. sunghoon will let you in. sorry, love u!'

you smile to yourself as you lock your phone.

---

you couldn't stop thinking about it.

were you really that obvious? or is it just some twin telepathy that's why sunghoon could tell? could benj tell?

you sit up, careful not to jostle anything in your immediate vicinity. you peer up at benj's sleeping figure from where you're situated on his spare mattress, positioned on the floor right next to his bed.

he seems to be deep in slumber, shoulders rising and falling steadily. you swallow, realizing how parched your throat has gotten. you get up on your feet, treading carefully around benj's room to get to the door.

you exit, walking down the hallway of the parks' penthouse apartment, trying to make as minimal sound as you can. you round the corner to where you know the kitchen is and you immediately stop in your tracks.

"shit—" you curse, startled by the figure standing by the kitchen island.

your eyes adjust to the dim lighting and you realize you've come face to face with sunghoon.

"hi, _______," sunghoon greets. "fancy seeing you here."

you huff, approaching the refrigerator. "ha ha. you scared the shit out of me."

you hear sunghoon laugh quietly from behind you.

you take the ice-cold pitcher out of the fridge, setting it on the counter before walking over to the cupboards where the parks keep their glasses.

you can feel sunghoon watching you, aware of the burning attention. you can feel your neck prickle with it.

you pull the cupboard door open and it's only now that you realize you can barely see. afraid to just reach in and possibly knock over and break something, you pause, willing your vision to adjust even more to the low lighting.

"hey, can you turn on the—"

your words are cut off when you feel warmth press up against your back. you flinch, watching with wide eyes as sunghoon's arm braces itself against the countertop in front of you. he reaches over you, his breath tickling the top of your head.

you shiver involuntarily.

you turn to face him, pressing yourself fully against the granite behind you. sunghoon pulls a glass down from the cupboard, handing it to you. his arm is still planted firmly to your side, half caging you in.

"here," sunghoon says.

you can just make out his face in the low light, his scent invading your senses once more. you take the glass from him and he steps away, freeing you.

you wordlessly return to the center of the kitchen, pouring yourself the water you desperately need. and boy, do you need it.

you gulp down mouthfuls of it, unsure why your legs are suddenly weak, your knees threatening to give out.

"hey," sunghoon calls out. you pause, turning to where he's still standing by the cupboards.

he has the same easy stance he had earlier in the day. leaned back, arms crossed. even in the dark, you can feel him staring.

"what?" it comes out a little more harshly than you'd like and you wince.

"do you hate me or something?" sunghoon asks brusquely.

once again, you find yourself rendered speechless by sunghoon.

"no," you answer simply, setting your glass down.

"then why don't you hang out with me like you do with benj?" sunghoon asks, approaching you.

"because benj is my best friend, you're not," you respond. sunghoon stops right in front of you and you have to crane your neck to meet where you think his eyes are.

"your best friend that you're in love with," sunghoon says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"that's not true," you deny.

sunghoon snickers. "sure, keep lying to yourself, sweetheart."

you inhale at the term of endearment.

"you know, i never understood why you got closer to him but you stopped spending time with me altogether," sunghoon muses. "the three of us grew up together, remember?"

you do.

the afternoons spent in the local playground. you and benj sat on the swings while sunghoon pushed. you and sunghoon on the seesaw while benj attempted to balance in the middle (much to their mother's horror). the twins hiding while you played seeker.

a smile tugs at your lips at the memory. and then it falters just as quick.

"you were the one who stopped hanging out with us," you say, a little accusatory in the way you did. "you had newer ice hockey friends and when middle school rolled around, you decided those girls were worth your time more than us."

'more than me,' is what you wanted to say. but you swallow it down.

sunghoon stays silent at this. after what you estimate is a minute, he sighs.

"sorry," is all he says.

you shake your head. "it's okay, we all drift apart from our childhood friends at one point."

sunghoon steps even closer. you can feel him now. a strange crackle of electricity tickles your fingertips.

"that's not the case with you and benj," sunghoon observes.

it's your turn to say nothing.

"i can help you," sunghoon suggests. your head snaps up as you try to process sunghoon's words.

you can see him now, illuminated by the faint hallway lights behind you. sunghoon's looking at you, expression unreadable.

"help me?" you parrot back. sunghoon nods.

"i can help you get with benj, if that's what you want. plant the seeds, so to speak," sunghoon explains. "he is my twin brother, after all."

you consider this for a moment. there's no denying the giddy feeling you get in benj's presence. the comfort it gives you when you spend the whole day together. the butterflies in your stomach when he beams at you, all bright and shining.

this should be an offer you can't refuse.

"i just have one thing to ask of you," sunghoon cuts through your thoughts.

"what?" you ask.

sunghoon pauses, turning away as if gathering his own words.

"do you ever feel that there's this weird...thing between us?" sunghoon asks.

your whole body seems to stiffen. your hands turn cold, clammy.

"like tension," sunghoon elaborates. "something you can't really explain."

"no," you answer a little too quickly.

sunghoon chuckles. "there you go again, lying."

you avoid sunghoon's gaze, staring hard at a spot behind him where his shadow dances against the cabinets.

"if you agree to...try this thing with me just this once, i'll help you get together with benj," sunghoon concludes, bending lower so he's in your line of sight.

unable to avoid him any longer, you look into sunghoon's eyes. he's much clearer now, your eyes well-adjusted to the dark. he's looking at you, expression soft, unlike the other times you've come face-to-face with him.

"so, you're offering to be my wingman, but only if i let you fuck me?" you string your words out carefully. "is that it?"

sunghoon sighs, shrugging. "basically, yeah. sounds fucking weird but you can always say no."

"it is weird," you confirm. you cross your arms as you narrow your eyes at sunghoon.

"can't we just skip the part where we fuck and go straight to the part where you help me?"

sunghoon grins down at you, dipping even lower so you're eye level with him.

"it's as if you don't know me at all, _______," sunghoon says lowly. "that hardly seems fair, sweetheart."

you grit your teeth.

"besides, do you want to skip the part where we fuck?" sunghoon presses on the last word, holding your gaze as he said it. you feel a warmth spread all over your body.

you take a deep breath, steadying yourself. your mind is at war with itself, warning you that this is a bad idea. if you get together with benj after, what then? take the secret that you fucked his brother to your grave?

"just this once, and when we're done, you'll help me, correct?" you say, raising a brow at sunghoon.

sunghoon nods. "exactly."

you pause. you want it. what 'it' is, you're not so sure.

you reach your hand out.

"deal."

sunghoon grasps your hand in his, squeezing firmly. his fingers envelop yours easily, your palm almost cartoonishly smaller than his.

and he's warm. so warm.

your eyes meet his and it's like something snaps.

you feel sunghoon grasp at your waist and your own arms come flying up to wrap around sunghoon's neck. he kisses you fervently, harshly, desperately. you respond with the same enthusiasm, pulling him closer to you.

sunghoon pushes you against the fridge, the contents rattling within. you gasp as the cold metal presses through your thin pajamas, but sunghoon drinks in any noise from you with his mouth.

"fuck," sunghoon mutters softly.

"god, ______," sunghoon continues, hands splayed against your back, his lips exploring the expanse of your neck.

"sunghoon," you whisper, clutching onto his wide frame. you mewl softly when you feel him suckle on a spot just above your collarbone.

you pull sunghoon away from your neck, guiding his face back to level with yours. you kiss him some more, a strange feeling bubbling within you.

it's making you want more of sunghoon, as if your whole being craved him.

you hear a soft click of a door opening somewhere down the hall and your eyes fly open, your hands forcing sunghoon off you. he jumps back as well, a panicked look on his face.

footsteps echo in the hallway and a voice immediately follows after.

"_______?"

benj. it's benj. his voice is thick with sleep and you look over at sunghoon, eyes wide with alarm.

"i-i'm in the kitchen," you call out. "just needed a drink."

you rush out of the kitchen and into the hall, running right into benj's firm chest. he catches you before you stumble and he holds you at arm's length, looking at you through half-closed eyes.

"there you are," benj says with a laugh.

you let out a nervous giggle of your own, gently pushing benj back towards his room.

"i'm right here," you assure him. benj rambles on about hearing noises from his room and you quickly dismiss it as you just messing around in their kitchen.

just as you herd benj back into his room, you look back down the hall and see sunghoon sauntering casually towards his own door. he catches your eye and winks, stepping quietly into his room.

---

"i know what you were doing last night."

you stop dead in your tracks, hand frozen in midair just as you're unwrapping your hair from your towel.

you had just stepped out of the bathroom adjacent to benj's room, dressed in his shirt and your shorts from yesterday. it's the morning after your little tryst with sunghoon and you were nearly a hundred percent sure you had successfully lied your way out of an explanation to benj.

it turns out, you haven't.

"you were hooking up with sunghoon, weren't you?" benj says, looking at you expectantly.

you put on your best attempt at an appalled expression, eyes wide an lips turning down into a frown.

"no, i wasn't," you muster up with as much disgust as you can.

benj just laughs. "i've lived here for nearly half my life, ____. i know the sounds of this house better than you."

"well, you thought wrong," you argue, busying yourself with brushing through your hair. you keep your eyes trained on the full body mirror in front of you, setting your sight on your own face.

benj comes up behind you, looking at you as if he could see right through you.

you think maybe he can.

"you're such a bad liar," benj accuses.

"i would never hook up with your brother," you protest, raking through your hair aggressively. you're getting antsy and you pray that benj would just drop the subject.

"why not?" benj questions.

you look at his reflection, scowling. "i don't like him like that, benj."

"hooking up with him would feel like hooking up with you," you add. 'a red herring, yes,' you think. 'distract him, make him feel weird for even asking.'

benj gives you a look. "what's so bad about that?"

you stare open-mouthed at benj. a million thoughts are flying through your head and something pinches at your chest.

"you're my best friend, benj," you try to reason. "that's weird."

"and hooking up with my brother isn't?"

you groan, letting your head fall into your hands.

"i didn't hook up with sunghoon!"

benj nods, pouting as if not fully convinced. "okay, whatever you say."

he steps out through the door, leaving you in his eerily quiet room.

you sigh, turning back to your reflection.

"not yet," you whisper to yourself.

---

"aren't you leaving yet?"

you look up from your phone and you're met with sunghoon peeking through benj's door. his hair is damp and you can smell his aftershave from where you're sprawled out on benj's bed.

"nope," you reply curtly, turning back to your phone.

"you've been here two days," sunghoon points out, stepping into the room. you ignore the jolt of excitement in your gut.

"i'll leave once benj comes back from training," you say.

"oh sure, then the two of you will get caught up again in whatever nerd things you do, and then it's the evening and you'll stay another night, walking around in your skimpy pajamas," sunghoon rambles sarcastically.

you narrow your eyes him as you sit up. "what's wrong with my pajamas?"

"they make me impossibly hard, _______. that's what's wrong," sunghoon admits, expression unchanging.

your eyebrows shoot up in mild surprise. "that down bad, huh?"

"nah," sunghoon replies nonchalantly.

"whatever you say, sweetheart," you say, throwing the pet name back at sunghoon.

sunghoon lets his eyes travel over your body, expression darkening, and you feel every hair on your skin stand up under his unrelenting gaze. you shift around, unsure of what to do with sunghoon's undivided attention.

you watch as sunghoon approaches, his jaw set as he pauses right before benj's bed. he meets your eyes and before you know it, sunghoon is crawling over you, stopping once he has you caged in between his arms.

"you're seriously not thinking of fucking me on your twin brother's bed, are you?" you whisper. you're nearly nose to nose with sunghoon now.

"i am," sunghoon answers simply before kissing you, effectively driving you back against the plush mattress.

the same bubbling feeling reappears and you grab at any part of sunghoon that you can, hooking your legs around his waist. he grunts against your mouth and you feel him harden against your core.

"this is my shirt by the way," sunghoon grins against your lips. "benj stole it from me a while back."

you moan at the thought of it. you feel sunghoon reach under your—his—shirt, chuckling when he feels the absence of a bra. he cups one of your breasts in his hand, kneading as he continues his assault on your lips.

"lose this," sunghoon commands, his other hand tugging your shorts down harshly. you oblige, reaching down to discard the piece of clothing along with your underwear.

"but keep this on," sunghoon adds as he kisses along your jaw, referring to the large shirt swallowing your frame.

you kick off your shorts and underwear the same time sunghoon pulls back to undo his own joggers. he throws them off to the side unceremoniously before hovering back over you, his eyes scanning every feature of your face.

"if you're so in love with benj, why are you about to sleep with me on his bed?" sunghoon asks, his fingers trailing down delicately from your chest down to your stomach. you flinch, fighting the urge to curl into yourself at the ticklish feeling.

sunghoon continues down towards the space between your legs, wasting no time swiping through your folds. you gasp, back arching as sunghoon rubs up and down, finger circling teasingly around your entrance.

"you talk too much," you counter, voice shaking. "are you gonna fuck my brains out or what?"

sunghoon sneers, shoving two fingers in without warning. you yelp, turning to bury your face in benj's pillow. it smells like him, but you barely register that, seeing as his twin's fingers are knuckles deep in you.

"go on, run your mouth like you always do, slut," sunghoon taunts. you involuntarily clench down at his use of such a degrading word and sunghoon notices, of course, his mouth curling into a smirk.

"should have known you were into that," sunghoon wonders out loud. he moves his fingers in and out of you, pumping his thick digits into your wanting hole.

you clamp a hand down on your mouth, suppressing every noise that threatens to escape you.

"let me hear you, pretty, come on," sunghoon coos, prying your hand off your face. "it's just the two of us here."

you bite your lip but let yourself be heard as sunghoon continues to fuck you with his fingers. he curls them up inside you and you thrash about, the pressure building within your abdomen.

"gonna cum already? you're so fucking easy," sunghoon comments, leveling his face with your cunt. he blows softly against your clit and you cry out in pleasure.

you feel the wet heat of his tongue press against your bundle of nerves and coupled with sunghoon's fingers, you can't help but curse loudly at the sensations.

"shit, sunghoon!" you whine. "yes, just like that, please."

sunghoon wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and running his tongue over it alternately. you feel like you're about to lose your mind. you're seconds away from orgasm and you barely have any time to warn sunghoon.

"i'm gonna cum, sunghoon i'm gonna—"

you're cut short by your own loud moans as you feel yourself come undone, your whole body seizing up. you grip at the sheets beneath you with one hand while the other reaches down to thread through sunghoon's hair. you hear him grunt against your pussy as you tug at the strands.

eventually, you relax, easing up on sunghoon's hair. he comes up to face you, his mouth glistening with your release. he licks his lips, smirking at the way you watch him with awe.

"you still with me?" sunghoon asks with a raise of his brow. you nod weakly, hands coming up to cup at his face.

sunghoon leans down to kiss you tenderly and you moan as you taste yourself on his lips. he moves his lips against yours slowly, savoring each pass of your tongue over each other's, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls away.

you peek down and see that sunghoon's cock stands red and angry against the black of his shirt.

"fuck me raw," you say before you can stop yourself.

sunghoon's eyebrows shoot up.

"are you sure?" he asks.

you nod, angling your hips up. restraint be damned, you want sunghoon and you want him now.

sunghoon chews down on his bottom lip as he lines himself up against your dripping hole. he coats his tip with your juices and you throw your head back as he teases you with his leaking cock.

"please," you whisper.

sunghoon presses a kiss on your cheek. "i got you, angel."

you feel him push in, stretching you out more than you anticipated. your mouth falls open in a silent moan as sunghoon slowly but surely bottoms out. your heart races and your mind loses all coherent thought. all you can register is that sunghoon feels like he's splitting you open with his dick.

"fuuuuck," sunghoon drawls into your ear.

"so fucking tight and so fucking good," he continues, bracing himself on either side of you. he moves his hips experimentally, pulling out then thrusting in and the two of you moan at the same time.

"give it to me," you pant, pulling sunghoon closer. "don't you dare hold back."

sunghoon grunts as he snaps his hips forward. you whine and moan like a whore as sunghoon fucks into you with reckless abandon. he keeps his eyes on your face, observing every expression that passes over your features.

"look at me," sunghoon orders as you let your eyes flutter close. "i said, look at me."

you obey, peering up at sunghoon through your lashes. he grabs your jaw as he hammers even harder into you. you cry out brokenly as you feel him deep within you. he's like a man starved, eyes wild as he takes you like this. rough and uncaring and oh so desperate.

"waited so long for this," sunghoon grunts. "to have you moaning and begging under me."

you feel tears prickle in your eyes, half from sunghoon's sharp nails digging into your cheek and half from the way his cock repeatedly punches against your cervix. it hurts but it's a pain you'd like to savor.

"god," sunghoon says, his face scrunching up in pleasure. he momentarily closes his eyes as he moves his hips even faster. he turns back to you, and by this time, your tears have escaped, streaking your face.

"fuck yeah, cry for me," sunghoon curses. "my pretty slut, weeping over my dick."

"oh, fuck—"

it came so suddenly, so unexpectedly that you can physically feel your body jolt. your second orgasm of the day rips through you, brought about by the filthy words escaping sunghoon's mouth. you hear him practically growl above you as he stills, your cunt clenching down so hard he's unable to move. you feel him twitch inside you and a second later, the warmth of his cum follows, shooting deep inside.

you're full-on crying now, mind hazy from pleasure as sunghoon catches himself before completely crushing you with his weight.

you wrap your shaky arms around sunghoon's shoulders, stroking his hair as the two of you calm yourselves down. sunghoon pulls out a minute later and you wince, immediately clamping your legs together to keep all of him inside you.

sunghoon plops down next to you, breathing heavy as his eyes stare at the ceiling. you hug your knees to your chest, hoping that nothing stains benj's sheets.

"fuck, that's a good girl, keeping all my cum in," sunghoon says through breathless chuckles. you groan, swatting at his chest.

"get tissues or something," you demand weakly, rolling over to your side. sunghoon pulls you close and cradles you against his chest.

"later," he murmurs, kissing you on the forehead. "just wanna hold you."

you hum in agreement, letting your eyes droop close. the two of you lay there, unmoving for a few minutes.

you initially think it's your imagination but you can hear faint footsteps coming down the hallway from outside benj's room. just as your eyes fly open, a loud knock thunders against the door.

"are you done?" comes benj's muffled voice from the other side.

"as much as i wanted to stay and watch, that might not be something you guys are into, so i gave you your privacy," he continues.

you and sunghoon look at each other, clearly panicking.

"but please, for the love of god, don't do it on my goddamn bed next time!"

[gatorbites-imagines]

Maybe a Steve Rogers x Male Reader with a choking kink???🤔

Steve Rogers x Male reader

Headcanons

i miss stevie so much, i still live in denial about endgame to this day.

I’ve had so little free time to write for the past while, and I’ve been living off of energy drinks for the past couple of weeks, but I hope y’all still enjoy this :3c

Now, there’s two scenarios that could be put. Who’s the one with the thing for choking? You or Steve? It would be pretty similar either way, but seeing as Steve is a super soldier can do a bit more than you, or needs a bit more than you.

If you are the one that likes to be choked, Steve is your guy. I mean, have you seen his hands? Big, sturdy and he has super strength, and the training to control said strength.

He would also be all about safety, meaning he looks up different guides and diagrams on how to choke a person correctly, where to put pressure, where not to put pressure, for how long, and so on. There would be no fun times without safety being there.

But when you guys have set everything up, made safewords and safemotions, and have discussed what needs to be done, Steve is all for it, in private of course. He wouldn’t be the type of person to do anything like that in public, since choking can be dangerous if done incorrectly, and since he wants to keep it private.

When you guys are in private though, I could imagine Steve being a bit of a tease. Like when you guys are cuddling on the couch, Steve will hook his arm around your neck in what seems like a casual hold, but you both know if he squeezed a bit, your air would be cut off just enough to leave you lightheaded.

Steve would also be bold enough to grab you by the throat, safely of course, to pull you into a kiss, where he would dig his fingers in just right to make you a bit dizzy. So he would steal the breath right out of your mouth with his kiss, and keep you from taking more in with his grasp.

Steve also gives the best praise, his words almost making you just as dizzy as his hands and arms. You would regularly find yourself in a headlock, your back against Steves sturdy chest as he whispers praise into your ear, his arm releasing just enough for you to gulp down air when you need it, before he cuts it off again.

Afterwards, Steve would make sure you are fine, get you something to drink, and what else you might need for your neck. Being the man he is, Steve would most likely also run a medical check, just to make sure it didn’t cause any lasting damage. He’s not above dragging you to medical, if need be.

If Steve is the one that likes to be choked, there would still be a focus on safety, but you might have to put your foot down and have to enforce it at times since Steve has a habit of pushing himself.

Being a super soldier also means Steve needs more than just your arm or hand around his neck most days, if he really wants his vision swimming. That is, if you don’t have super strength as well, where you could just pull the same moves as if It were Steve doing it to you.

You might have to use some professional assassin moves, if you don’t want to use any equipment. Natasha doesn’t question just why you want to learn how to take down a guy like Steve by choking, but you have a feeling she knows.

You guys would have to tie up his hands and legs as well, since the body tends to react when being choked, and he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you with his flailing, unless you can withstand it. He doesn’t have a preference, sometimes he quite likes his hands being locked together, since it helps him get into whatever mental state he wants to go into.

Steve is as much of a sucker for praise as the next guy, so please praise him and coo at him as you choke him out with whatever you are choking him out with. Be it your arms, your legs, or some kind of collar or even chain.

He doesn’t mind degradation as well, so if you guys are doing some kind of play don’t feel too bad pulling some stuff on him, since it always just helps him give up more of the control he wants you to take.

You always have to keep an eye out when you choke Steve, since like I said earlier, he likes to push his limits. Its nothing against you, he just doesn’t want it to end even when he knows he should safeword or safemotion.

But if he does pass out, you know what to do, just like he would know what to do with you if you passed out. This is where Steves long talks about safety come in handy, since you can get him into the right position and get him comfortable so you can take care of him when he comes too again.

All in all, it can go both ways, and either way, Steve finds safety most important for both of you the entire time, as he should.

[callofdudes]

What are you reading?? Part 2

A/N: So... It blew up, I didn't expect that to happen. And most of you wanted a part 2, so I made a part 2. You can find part one here.

CW: Sexual stuff. I don't know what I'm doing

Summary: After the boys find you reading a smut book, they take it upon themselves to tease you. This is the result of the boys teasing you.

After your meeting with Price your interaction with Johnny had sort of been forgotten. You still keep your book close as you walk back to your room for the evening, intent on getting some rest after the long day.

When you step into your room, you are surprised to see Johnny sitting on your bed.

"Hey, this is my room, Johnny."

Johnny hums. "I know." He motions you over and you hesitantly sit next to him. "Still got that book hey?" He snatches it from you.

"Johnny! Give my book back!"

You fight to grab it, pushing him against the bed and reaching for it. He chuckles, having you so close.

"You cheeky little-"

Johnny slips out from under you with the book. "Sorry sweetheart." He grins, his hand coming down and slapping you on the ass, making you gasp in surprise. "You've had your turn with this."

You turn around just as the door closes but you aren't sure what the hell to do. You just stare, blush forming across your face and your heart melts.

Johnny is actually just teasing you, I literally had no endgame for his... I tried to write one though

It was late when you finish your paperwork. You're tired and sore from sitting down all day despite how comfortable your office chairs are.

Finally, you signed the last piece of paper and stood, stretching out your sore muscles.

Now... Time to go try and get your book back from Price. Wouldn't that be a lecture? You hadn't forgotten what he'd said earlier, it made your heart pound in your chest.

You got to his office and knocked on the door. "Captain? Can I come in?"

"It's open."

You opened the door and slipped inside, Price had a cigar in his mouth and was idly sitting there relaxing.

"I uh... I finished my paperwork and I'd like my book back."

Price took a long drag of his cigar and looked at you. He motions you over, so you came. Price contemplates it. "Did you work hard Princess?"

Your insides drop.

"Yes Captain, I finished my paperwork." You try to ignore it but the things it did to you makes you feel utterly filthy.

John's free hand reaches your hip and strokes it with his thumb. He motions you down on his lap. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest. You maneuver to straddle him, all the heat in your stomach plunging further.

Price continues to rub your hip.

"Can't decide if you've been a good girl or not today, reading all those... Things."

You suddenly feel very inclined to make things better. Your heart leaps, leaning in and kissing his neck. "Captain." It comes out strained, trying to keep your breathing together.

Price continues to smoke his cigar as you kiss up his throat and down his collar.

He pulls you back gently and hums. "You've been a very good girl today, we all make mistakes darlin'"

"You've made daddy very happy. I think you deserve a reward."

You whine, that finally doing it too you. "Price!" You bury your head in his neck, hips pivoting and grinding against his thigh.

"Good girl. Tell me what you want sweetheart."

Your breaths come out jagged as you slide down to your knees and tug at his belt. Price chuckles.

He presses out his cigar and undoes his belt for you. You pry open his zipper and kiss along his stomach. Price's hand strokes the back of your head when you pull out his cock.

"That's it," he coos. "take daddy's cock like a good girl."

You whine, kissing his length and taking him in your mouth. His hand curls in your hair, letting you have a moment before gently guiding you down on his length.

He groans deeply, watching you choke when you reach his base. "There you go, such a good girl for daddy."

You come back up, choking on spit. He lights up another cigar while you bob your head down the Captain's length. Price watches you, tangling his fingers in your hair.

He brought you back down all the way and kept you there, watching you choke and swallow harshly. He grins and takes another drag.

Price did not let you leave his office until you had fully earned the rights to your book back in full.

I don't trust myself to write smut guys, I'm sorry if it's weird

Gaz stayed close to your ear as you read. Word after word. You read about each scene, the ideas of the lewd acts leaving an imprint on you.

Gaz's warm hands trailed down your collarbone. You tried to read, your breathing getting heavy.

"And he- Kyle-!"

Kyle kissed your lobe, hands sinking under your shirt. You whined for the touch but Gaz wasn't going to have it. "Keep reading sweetheart."

"Not like this-"

He pinches and twists your nipples. "Read it sweetheart." His tone remains smooth as honey as delicate as a flower, but his actions are commanding, telling you to read.

You gulp and keep reading, even as his hands groped and play, making your insides hurt so good.

You whimpered, shuddering when you flipped the page. Gaz's hands trailed back up your shirt and he rounded the couch. Finally you could see his handsome face in front of you.

"Kyle-"

"I doubt my name is in that book." He kneels in front of you, and you can see the bulge in his pants.

He pushes your knees apart gently with his hands and slowly pulls off your pants. You keep reading, your voice growing shaky and stumbling over words In anticipation of his next move.

Your bottom half completely exposed, Kyle moved forward, sinking two fingers into your cunt.

You gasped and moaned.

"Oh please, please Kyle-"

He slaps you gently, removing his fingers.

Tears start to fill your eyes, trying to read. Just two more pages, just two more pages. But you didn't want it to end.

You recapture your thoughts as much as you can and continue. As you as you start, so does Kyle, sinking in and pressing his tongue between your legs.

You jump, shifting your hips in excitement. Kyle keeps you steady, working you unwound so effortlessly.

You gasp and pant through your words, shaking and moaning loudly. Your thoughts begin to slur together with each stroke of his tongue.

His fingers dip into your entrance again, stretching you nicely around him while his tongue teases your clit with fast flicks.

You manage to finish the chapter and toss the book on the couch. You throw your head back and moan, pressing your hands through Kyle's hair.

"Kyle- more, more, more!!" He brings you undone so effortlessly. You rake your fingers over his scalp, canting your hips up against him in pleasure.

Kyle hums happily, sucking your clit. "Good job sweetheart." He mutters.

Everything feels hot and dizzy when you reach your limit, spasming and coming.

You pant, head heavy and empty. He laps at your spend and kisses your clit, making you jerk your hips.

Kyle kisses up your stomach. "You did so well for me sweetheart." He whispers. "Good girl."

You whimper when he leans over you, your hand coming up to stroke his cheek.

"Now, get comfortable. If you don't come a second time before they get back, I'll let them watch."

You slip into Ghost's room, the darkness making your skin crawl. The barren walls and the simple bed in the corner.

You reach the middle of the room and Ghost was back behind you, guiding you to the wall and pressing himself up against you.

"Should have known you'd come here for more."

His hand strokes your throat, pulling your head back and locking his thumb and forefinger into the sensitive spots under your jaw.

You moan, hands curling into fists against the cold wall.

"Ghost..." You whimper.

He grunts, rutting his hips down against you, holding you perfectly still like a doll. You gasp and fight for air in your lungs, your insides betraying how you should be feeling.

"You into this shit?" He asks, voice raspy against your ear.

"Please, please Ghost-"

He growls and presses you closer to the wall, his hand grabs your hip and arches your back.

Tears fill your eyes and you pull at his hand.

He scoffs. "You are into this shit."

He keeps you pressed against the wall though his hands leave you. You hear his belt buckle click and slide and it makes your heart race.

When he's ready he grabs your arm and turns you around. You look up at him, he grabs your shoulder and forces you down onto your knees.

"Ghost-"

"Shush. I didn't ask you to talk."

Tears slip down your cheeks, you inch closer and take his hard cock in your hand.

He watches you with his usual disapproving look as you take him into your mouth. You barely get halfway before you start to choke.

Ghost grabs the back of your head and forces you down. You choke and grab his thighs for support, more tears in your eyes.

He grunts. "You like this don't you? You and your weird fuckin' books."

You can't reply, trying to take Ghost as best you could.

He tugs your hair, rocking his hips against you. His hands slide down from your hair to your jaw. He cups your jaw and your neck, keeping you still while he uses you.

He went until your jaw was sore and all you could do was moan lazily.

"Fucking whore." He grunts, dragging the saliva on his cock over your bottom lip.

He forced you back up against the wall and wastes no time fingering you. It's not consistent or long, his fingers gone before you can enjoy it. He lines up his cock and is shoving into you. His girth stretches you wide and has you a moaning, melting mess. He shoves you further into the wall and your back arches. It's sloppy and his cock ruins your insides, your thoughts slurring until there was nothing left.

He kept his hand locked on your throat, watching you lose yourself with every thrust.

"Fuck-" he pounds into you, watching you writhe and whimper under him. He stretches you out and fucks you drunk on him.

And he was right, by the end of the night the story you'd read barely compared.

Alejandro came between your legs and stroked your chin. "Quieres tanto esto, ¿verdad? Quieres ser una puta sólo para nosotros."

Your bottom lip wobbles.

Rodolfo moves you out of your seat and forces you down gently onto the floor. You watch Alejandro stand over you, forced down on your hands and knees when Rodolfo leans over you.

He presses his chest to your back, hands groping your chest.

Alejandro undoes his belt and strokes your chin. It's all too much, watching Alejandro and feeling Rodolfo undoing his own gear and pulling down your pants.

"Se ve tan hermoso para nosotros como este." Rodolfo whispers in your ear.

Your heart pounds in your chest.

"Say the word amor, and we're all yours." Alejandro purred.

"Please... Please, yes." You whimper.

Rodolfo's hand pulls down your underwear, pushing two fingers into your entrance. You gasp and moan, arching into it.

Alejandro grabs your chin firmly and presses his cock to your lips. Rodolfo makes you moan, Alejandro fitting his thick girth down your throat.

Tears fill your eyes. Alejandro guides you along his cock while Rodolfo peppers your back in soft kisses, stretching you out nicely.

He is gentle with you, whispering sweet words in your ear and playfully squeezing your breasts.

Alejandro feels heat pool in his stomach watching his best friend treat you like that. "Mm, you gonna let Rodolfo ruin you?? You gonna let him use you amor?"

Your knees shake, hands balling into fists, hungry and eager.

Rodolfo retracts his fingers and lines up to you. He shares a glance with Alejandro before pushing in. It stretches and burns, his girth much thicker than you expected. And it makes you choke down on Alejandro.

They rock you back and forth. The soft front Rodolfo had put up soon gone as he pounds at an unholy pace deep inside of you.

"Fuck yes, letting us ruin you like this." Rodolfo growled. He fit you so nicely inside your walls. You come faster than you'd expected, clenching around Rodolfo and whimpering as you come.

It all went so fast, at some point Rodolfo had picked you up in his arms like you weighed nothing and slammed you down on the desk. Alejandro purring with each rough stroke, Rodolfo rocking you against the desk.

"Mira lo que le has hecho a Alejandro, puta."

Alejandro is a mess, movements frantic and desperate. He has a tight hold on your throat when he finishes, head falling back as he slows.

Rodolfo holds out, making you gasp and moan loudly before he finishes soon after, leaving you a mess. Feeling warm and destroyed.

Alejandro sees the tired hungry glazing over your eyes. He smears the last of his spend across your lips.

"You won't be needing that book back my dear." Alejandro whispers in your ear.

A/N: I don't write smut often, and not for XReaders, but I knew what I was getting into so I did my best to make you a worthy part 2 with the criteria I was comfortable with. It's a bit awkward because it's not a whole fic, but I think it's ok. And I do hope you enjoyed it. Now I'm going to go write something fluffy to reclaim my soul.

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Six

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!)

____________________________________________

Author note: Dear Hoteliers, VOX IS BACK BABY!

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Six - A Stroll

Content Warning: Obsession, Choking, Graphic Sexual Scenes Involving Violence, Self Harm, Minors DNI!

Vox poured a cup of coffee into his “Fuck Alastor” mug and whistled as he exited the penthouse suite, heading for his office. 

“What has him in such a cheery mood this mornin’, hmm?” Val asks from his spot on the couch, flipping through various channels on the television. The moth demon sipped from his own “Pimpin’ Not Simpin” mug. 

Velvette sat on the edge of the countertop, a new phone in hand, tapping away. “Something about his mysterious Alley Girl. How the Hell should I know?” 

“The bitch staying with Alastor?” Valentino adjusted his rose glasses. 

“Yup.”

Val took another sip of his mug, before finally flipping to 666 News. “I can’t even get that lanky prick to return my calls, and Mr. Flat Screen thinks he can romance one of Charlie’s Redeemers without pissing off the Smiling Freak?” 

Velvette finally puts the phone away. Grabbing her own coffee cup, she jumps over the back of the couch to join Valentino in watching the morning broadcast. “At least he’s movin’ on.” She shrugs. “If I have to hear him bitch one more time about Al…”

The television chimed, interrupting their conversation and announcing the start of a special broadcast. “Travis Miku, a former employee of V Tower Productions, was found burnt to a crisp this morning just outside the Entertainment District…”

Val spit his coffee across the room. “What!?” 

____________________________________________

“Okay, Scales,” you laugh, pouring the coconut milk into the cup. 

“Ay’, nicknames are my thang, Hair clip!” Angel scolded from his seat at the table. 

“What do you think of this?” You spun, sending the cappuccino flying down the table. It sailed with such force that it flew right past the snake demon and crashed onto the tile floor next to a pair of black and red dress shoes. You were so distracted that you didn’t notice the run of static down your spine. 

Fuck.

“My, it seems I have stumbled across the old rough and tumble this morning,” the demon’s radio clicks onto a smooth jazz before he slips into his apron and starts the stove. He’s in a good mood.

You’re frozen in place for a moment, very aware of the Radio Demon standing right next to you and the mere inches the coffee cup had to spare before acosting him. The room has gone silent, nervously awaiting the Radio Demon and his temper. Yet, it doesn’t come. 

Your eyes flit down to his red and black shoes - not a speck on them - you wouldn’t - couldn’t - make eye contact with the demon. Especially after last night. Your cheeks heat with the memory of his lips on yours. 

Fucking Hell. You’ve never experienced this before. You’ve never wanted to do… sexual things. It wasn’t in your nature. Dad raised you on the belief that anything before marriage was a sin and so you spent the majority of your life believing the same thing. When you finally were free of him you found that you just didn’t have any interest. Not in men or women. It just wasn’t something you thought of. 

Your closest friend tried to talk you into it, she was as promiscuous as they get - she’d rival even Adam’s body count - but you just didn’t really want to. She’d go off and sleep with whatever had two legs, while you’d prefer a good book and a glass of wine in your bed. 

Now? Your thoughts and feelings towards those things were getting… confusing. Alastor was making those things confusing and you really hated to admit that. 

White-knuckled, the demon whipped a few eggs - clearly holding back his agitation from your almost attack. You wondered what it would take to break his smile, get him to try and frown for once. You wondered what you would have to do to wipe that smirk off his face…

Oh, and part of you would love to try but another part knows you needed to get on his good side. 

Rubbing the back of your neck, you grab a towel to…

“Oh, no, allow me, darling,” he snaps his finger and the pile of destroyed ceramic disappears. 

You swallow, “Thank you.” Turning back to the machine, you begin a new cup for Pentious and a hot cup of chai coffee for Alastor, listening awkwardly to the demon humming beside you. 

“So…” Husk starts. “Heard you were heading to Mimzy’s today.”

“I am,” you and the Radio Demon respond at the same time. His radio skips a beat, the jazz song turning to static as he meets your eye - God, that was starting to get annoying. His left eye twitches ever so slightly betraying his mask of a smile. 

You side eye the barkeep over your shoulder. You knew what he was doing. He was tasked to watch after you, which meant reporting your movements, especially when it involved the Overlord’s acquaintances - not cool Husk, not cool. 

“And what business would you have with ~my~ darling Mimzy?” Alastor’s radio clicked back to a smooth jazz. Did he play anything else? 

My Mimzy? MY?

“Just picking up a few things,” you turn back to the coffee, doing your best to concentrate on your coconut creation and the chai brewing next to it. 

“Seems we will be running in the same circles today then, Ms. Thestral,” his voice purrs. 

“Seems we will,” you wipe the rim of the cup before turning to the table, mugs in hand. You kept your eyes down, not wanting to catch Alastor’s gaze. 

Perhaps if you coordinated, you could find a time to get to the club when Alastor wouldn’t be there…

“Care to join me?” The demon purred. 

Your heart sank through your stomach and onto the floor. You practically dropped the mugs in your hand before setting them gently on the table. Finally, your eyes caught his. 

He looked rather domestic like this - frilly pink apron, spatula in hand. If no one knew who you were they’d think you a couple, getting ready for a quiet breakfast at home. Good thing your audience knew better. You were more likely to kill each other than anything else. And, underneath all of that, the demon looked utterly exhausted…

You shoot him your prettiest, most sincere smile, fighting the blush creeping up your neck. “I would be delighted,” you answer through gritted teeth. 

“Delightful,” the demon beams at you, his irises lighting up like crimson crystals.

Angel leans over to whisper to Husk, “What is happening?”

“Breakfast!” Alastor abruptly drops the pan, making the entire room jump. “Enjoy.”

The three blink before digging in, doing their best to ignore whatever pissing contest you and Alastor had found yourselves in - except for Angel. The Porn Star loved drama. 

The Radio Demon leans in, his gaze boring into you. You feel something tickle the peripherpy of your power. It wasn’t his shadow and it wasn’t him probing your power. It felt like his radio static had brushed up against your fire, like a caresse across your skin. It was eerily similar to the feeling you got when you and he made the deal atop the radio tower. 

Could he feel that too?

Your cheeks heated as he came closer, his gaze suddenly changed. From a look of pure anger to something else… “You’re not afraid of me.” 

The statement sent a shiver down your spine. 

Taking a deep breath, you leaned in closer, pushing all thoughts of his lips from your mind, of his hands on your throat, of his thigh between your legs, his chest flush with yours…  “Seems Charlie left that part out of the tour.” You smirked, your red lipstick contrasting against your white teeth. You wished you had more prominent canines for a situation such as this. 

God, why did Alastor make you feel so… so… angry!? That was the only way to describe what was happening. He made you angry. 

He laughed, a deep rumble from his chest, not the fake showman’s laugh you normally heard from him. His face lit up in a way you hadn’t seen before from the Overlord. Then he fell silent, uncharacteristically so. His eyes dipped down. Not to your neck. No, his gaze didn’t drop low enough. 

Was he… What is he… Your face grew warm as a blush crept up from your collarbones.  

He was staring at your lips. 

“Um, excussssse me?” Sir Pentious’ question broke the tension, bringing you both back to the room. 

You cleared your throat, finding your seat at the table. 

Ignoring the looks Angel Dust was shooting you from across the room, you pushed the cappuccino to the snake. 

“...I don’t eat eggssss.” The serpent smiled. “May I have pancakesss?” He beamed. 

Alastor’s smile strained. “Of course, my slippery friend.” 

You were in no place to point out that pancakes still had eggs in them.

“...With chocolate chipsss?” He blinked, his eyes growing big. 

The Radio Demon snapped the spatula in half in his hand. “Right away.”

You resisted the urge to laugh, finding your own mug of hot coffee. The static returned to the room, switching angrily between stations before returning to a smooth jazz. 

“Morning!” Charlie yawned. She had a small bouquet of blue flowers in her hand. “Thestral these came for you.” She placed the bouquet down in front of you before finding her seat. 

There’s a card. 

Your blood runs cold. 

Holy fucking shit. 

“Who they from?” Angel asks.

You crumble the note in your hand. “Nobody important,” you quickly lie. 

Fucking blue Forget-Me-Knots. How fucking hilarious of him. How in the Hell did he find you and know who you are!? You’d burn these to a crisp if you didn’t have so many eyes on you. 

You went over to the garbage and aggressively tossed the flowers in, irritation prickling the back of your neck. Before you had a chance to register what was happening, Angel slipped his fingers in yours, and pulled the crumbled note from your grasp. You lunged for the paper, but one of his hands pushed down on your head, placing you thoroughly out of range of his many appendages. 

The spider demon’s mouth dropped. “Vox!?” 

Shit. 

The room went silent. 

Vaggie grabbed the paper from Angel and read it herself. “Why is an Overlord sending you flowers?”

Ah, how to explain…

“I…” You pinched the bridge of your nose between forefinger and thumb. “I fixed his bowtie…” You grumbled. 

“You fixed his bowtie?” Angel repeated, absolutely dumbfounded. 

“Why were you anywhere near him?” Vaggie was in your face now, challenging you from her even shorter stature. 

“He ran into me, quite literally, on my way to the club, after Rosie’s,” your eye’s flit to Alastor, but he was nonchalantly perched behind black and white text, sipping the coffee you had made him. Was he ignoring this conversation or just not interested? “His bowtie was tangled, so I fixed it for him, but he had no idea who I was. I didn’t even give him my name! I have no idea how he found me or why he’d even send me flowers…” You slammed the lid of the garbage can shut. 

“Wait, you went to Rosie’s!?” Vaggie challenged. 

“She’s my tailor…” You were now thoroughly irritated. “That doesn’t matter!” You fell into your seat with a thud, arms crossed in front of you, you slumped onto the table. A wave of coolness puddled beneath your ankles as you sat - Alastor’s shadow you assume. 

“You had a meet-cute with Vox?” Angel was still stuck on that part. 

Alastor flipped the page of his newspaper rather aggressively, his shadow twirling around and around your feet. He wasn’t Vox’s biggest fan, so you’re sure the entirety of the Hotel crew obsessing over your interaction with him wasn’t sitting well with the Overlord. 

You shot the spider demon a confused, yet exasperated look. Vaggie and Charlie shared a look of concern. Husk poured more alcohol into his orange juice.

“Why the fuck, do you hang around so many Overlords…” Vaggie started but, Charlie interrupted her. 

“What Vaggie means to say is, we’re worried about you,” Her voice was sweet as she came to sit next to you, crouched so she could catch your eyeline.

“Was it hot?” Angel wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Was there tension of the… sexual nature?” He beamed. Your face turned scarlet.

“Angel, I don’t…” You start but are interrupted. 

SNAP! 

The Radio Demon’s newspaper disappeared as did his music. Summoning his microphone, he stormed from the kitchen, leaving the rest of you in a wave of silence. His shadow followed, almost as if it was pulled away rather aggressively. 

“What was all that about?” Vaggie snapped. 

“He looked kind of mad, maybe I should go check on him?” Charlie started to stand but Vaggie pushed her back down. 

“Uh, no! No way! You are not going after an Overlord with an anger issue.” 

You sighed into your arms. This day was starting off great…

Charlie’s eyes shot to Husk. Pouting her lip, she silently begged the barkeep. 

“Ugh!” Rising to his feet, he chugged the rest of his drink. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit.” He disappeared through the flapping kitchen door. 

“Not to change the subject, but has anyone seen Nifty?” Angel asked.

“Not since last night. I swear if she’s stuck in the ventilation shafts again…” Vaggie swore under her breath in Spanish. 

“Maybe we should go look for her?” Charlie ran her hands through her hair, still watching the kitchen door swing on its hinges. 

“Good idea, let’s split up into teams. I call Thestral!” Angel practically dragged you to your feet. Pushing you out the door, he called back, “Hair clip and I will check this floor!” 

“This conversation isn’t over!” Vaggie called out after you. 

Next thing you know you were following him down the hallway, coffee-less and grumpy. You weren’t yourself before that first cup of joe and the Hotel Natives had not yet learned what happens when you don’t get it. Plus, the whole Vox situation was just tipping you over the edge. 

Static found your spine as you walked - Alastor. His shadow was following you.  

Angel made a great deal of effort to check every nook and cranny as you walked, but your eyes were on him. “Thank you for rescuing me,” You stop walking, irritation prickling your skin. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the shadow of the table twitch ever so slightly. 

He takes a glance down both hallways, ensuring you were alone. “You know what just happened don’t ya’?” 

You raised an eyebrow in question. 

“Flirting with the Radio Demon like that and then throwing Vox in his face. Are you nuts?” He grabbed at his hair.  

“What!?” You barked, your jaw practically on the floor. 

“I saw the way the two of yous… Owe! Owe! Owe! How are you this strong!?” You dragged Angel by his ear to the foyer and out the front doors. Husk was at the bar, shooting you weird looks, but eventually he shrugged it off and went back to cleaning up broken glass. 

You didn’t stop until you were standing in the middle of the cobblestone road, in broad daylight, with the closest puddle of shadows at least thirty feet away. Alastor’s shadow could still reach you if it wanted to, but it didn’t know that you knew it was following you - so, it would have to stay hidden. It was now, thankfully, out of earshot.

“What the fuck was that for?” Angel rubbed his ear as you released him. 

“Let’s get this straight. I was not ~flirting~ with the Radio Demon. I hate him. What you saw was me not backing down to his intimidation. I refuse to cower before someone who thinks they have some sort of power over me.” You gritted through your teeth. “Also, I did not ask for attention from Vox. I did not ask for flowers. I didn’t want it brought up but you had to go and snoop into my business!”

Angel blinks at you, before something clicks in his mind. “Oooh, I get it now! You wanna hate fuck him.” Angel beamed at you. 

Goddammit. You’d rip his head off right here if you didn’t like him so much. 

“Look, if Smiles is what does it for ya…” 

“Angel,” you bite, but he continues over you.

“…then I’m not one to judge, but you should know one thing. Never, in the history of Hell, has the guy been seen with anyone.” 

“Wha… What!?” Your face was turning red, not out of embarrassment but anger. How could Angel think that this was what you wanted to hear right now!? 

“Yup, better believe it. Overheard Valentino and Vox talking about it. Apparently the guy’s a total loner. I’m not saying he’s a virgin but there’s a possibility.” 

You could feel the heat bubbling beneath your skin, threatening to break through. 

“Although come to think of it, Vox talks about Alastor’s sex life quite a bit. Wonder what…”

“Angel Dust,” you snap. “I don’t care about Alastor’s sex life.” You were seconds away from ripping the hair out of your head - reminding yourself that this was Angel, you did your best to contain yourself. 

“Oh, well you should.” He crosses his arms, a smirk across his face.

Pinching the bridge of your nose between forefinger and thumb, you do your best to take a breath. “Why would I care about who Alastor has or has not slept with?” 

“Because he’s heading this way,” the spider demon points over his shoulder. You spin, blush creeping into your skin, turning the pink to a bright red. You pray he hadn’t heard you talking just now. 

The demon slips through the front door, his cane clacking against the ground as he descends upon you. You're helpless, your mind blank as he comes to stand just feet from where you and Angel had been hiding from his shadow. 

You were so irritated with Angel and focused on Alastor’s shadow you had missed the static creeping down your spine alerting you to his impending presence. 

“Hello, darling, you wouldn’t be leaving without me, would you?” The demon’s smile gives nothing away - if he heard you, he made no show of it. 

“Oh, no. She’s all yours, Smiles.” Angel practically shoves you forward. “You, me, bar, later!” He demands as he heads for the safety of the Hotel. Behind Alastor’s back, Angel sends you a quick wink before disappearing inside. 

You had grown quite attached to Angel Dust in the short time you’ve been here. So much so that his innocent flirting and quick sex quips brought a smile to your face. And because of that - the muscle twitching in your jaw - you still couldn’t find the room to hate him. Angel Dust was pure - despite his choice of profession - and you found yourself again wondering how Valentino could lay his hands upon such a wonderful person. Even if he can be a twat sometimes.

“Actually, we were looking for Nifty,” you crossed your arms, willing your heart to stop pounding. He could probably hear it from where he stood. 

“Ah, it’s a good thing our effeminate friend headed back inside then. The Little Angel has found herself wedged within an air shaft on the ceiling of the library.” He saddles up next to you, your head coming to the height of his chest, before holding his elbow out to you. “Shall we?” 

You thought the Radio Demon didn’t like to be touched?

Begrudgingly, you loop your arm in his, your fingers coming to rest atop his jacketed forearm - did he ever wear anything else? - doing your best to ignore the fact that you were touching him. He was warm - not something you expected from him. His shadows always felt so cold when they wrapped around you, you had assumed he would be much the same - cold and dead. 

You took a sniff to try and grasp his emotions, to see if he smelled of deceit and indeed had overheard your conversation, but instead of the lemony tartness of the emotion, he smelled of musk, of the deep woods after a rainstorm. It was… unexpected… Especially considering you hadn’t been able to scent anything off of him before this.

And his attitude? He stormed out of the kitchen not twenty minutes ago and now he appears here, his smile seemingly normal, not an ounce of stress in his eyebrows. You wondered what happened to change his mood so quickly?

You did your best to keep your eyes on the path ahead as you walked. “You don’t seem so concerned for someone in your… services?” 

He laughed, “Oh, darling, I see you did some homework. Yes, Nifty is a soul I own, and yes she does find herself in a bind quite often.” He helped you down the curb and into the street as you crossed. Despite the smiles on your face, the tension between the two of you was so palpable you could cut it with a knife. “But the difference is, that I trust them to take care of her.” 

You scoff, sidestepping a dead rat. “If not I guess you have Husk to tattletale later.”

Out of the corner of your eye, something in the demon’s demeanor turns dark. “You would be surprised how difficult that barcat can be…” 

You wonder what happened after Alastor and Husk left the room. There was no shouting or arguing but apparently some broken glass? Perhaps it was Alastor’s anger towards the barkeep. Perhaps it was his irritation with Vox. Whatever it may have been, he appears unphased now. That or he’s really good at putting on a show.

You pass the Entertainment District, V Tower looming overhead. Alastor stiffened slightly, his other hand coming to rest on your arm against his. 

Yeah, definitely a Vox issue. 

Your heart skips a beat as his gloved fingers settle atop yours and you resist the urge to pull away. 

His fingers on yours… 

Your face heated. 

Shit, think of something else. 

You fixate on V Tower. God, the past few nights spent perched on rooftops and just listening and watching Vox and his little gang bitch about absolutely nothing were really starting to get to you. 

But last night you had slept. Which doesn’t sound like a lot but you haven’t truly had a decent night’s rest since coming to the Hotel. Now, with Alastor’s radio, you could finally catch a few Zs - despite the dream. You were ignoring that it even happened - as best you could. 

At first the music was used to drown out the screams of the Sinners those first few days in Hell, then it became something you needed. It made you feel weak to rely on something so trivial, but, hey, this was Hell - suffering on some level had to be involved. 

“Thank you,” you finally managed, looking down at your feet. “For the radio.” 

Alastor’s shoulders dropped ever so slightly, his fingers twitching on your arm. “Of course, my dear. Whatever I can do to help.” He didn’t sound as cheerful as his words. His mind fixated on the media demon’s tower looming over you. 

Might as well address it directly. You didn’t work well with… complicated emotions, but anger? Fuck. Anger was your best friend. 

“Vox has been quiet lately.” You prod. “Ever wonder why he hasn’t flat out tried to take you down?” Heaven’s Clocktower came into view. 

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I suspect his systems are still reloading,” he answers coolly. 

“Hmm,” you ponder. “For a seemingly all powerful Overlord, the man has one major weakness.”

“And what would that be, darling?” The edge of Cannibal Town was coming into view. You took a right - heading for the old section of the Entertainment District. 

You ignored the butterflies in your belly, now kicked up in a flurry at his purr of “darling.”

You wonder if Alastor is technically not allowed in any part of the Entertainment District - seeing as how it is the Vees’ territory. But what did they care about an old jazz club tucked away in the far less frequented parts of Pentagram City?

“Unplug him,” you smiled at your own joke. 

And, to your surprise, the Radio Demon tips his head back and laughs. Not his corny showman laugh, but a deep rumble that emanates from within his chest. You’re shocked for a moment, not sure of how to take his change in emotion, but then your quiet giggles join his. 

At least Vox was something you both could agree on. 

“...back to you Katie!” A crowd was gathering around a storefront, television screens turned on inside - granted they were older models, 1950s-esque, but 666 News worked on everything. 

You hastily listened as you passed, Alastor having no desire to join a forming crowd - watching a television no less - to a breaking news podcast regarding another murder. 

“Travis Miku, a former employee of V Tower Productions, was found burnt to a crisp this morning just outside the Entertainment District. His ashes have been returned to his wife…”

You chuckle. 

It was his wife who gave you her soul for the hit. A minor deal, but Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither was your power as Overlord. 

“On a lighter note, if anyone has any information on how to contact the Shadow, you can call the studio tip hotline. Asking for a friend…”

The buzz of the picture box is drowned out by the hustle and bustle of the Vees’ territory. Cars honked as they drove by, people on cell phones, clubs playing music for patrons who had still been there from the night before. 

“Oh, please do enlighten me as to what has peaked your fancy now?” Alastor’s question brought you from your thoughts. 

“I find the growing desire to unmask the Shadow to be fruitless.”

The Overlord stiffened next to you. “How ever could you mean?”

“It’s simple. Unmask the mask and what do you get? Just another mask. No one in Hell goes by their true name and the ones who do are now dead twice over. It doesn’t matter who this Shadow is, they still remain a threat regardless of their identity. It would be like learning your name was actually Alex instead of Alastor. You’re still the Radio Demon - nothing has changed.” 

“Spoken by someone who sounds like they have nothing to lose?” He raised an eyebrow.

You sigh, your heart knotting itself in your chest. “I don’t…” 

Everyone you knew was topside - Heaven - and wherever the Hell your father was. No one left on Earth to care for you now. Not even friends… Even if anyone were to find out who you truly are, they’d have no leverage. Well, you did care for Rosie, but she could take care of herself.

Alastor didn’t ask further, content on finishing the walk in silence. His fingers wrapped around yours were warm and oddly comforting. Actually, silences were oddly comfortable with the Radio Demon - considering his radio never truly left you alone. 

You walked the rest of the way in a background of music. The demon changed the channel every so often to find something that he liked - you questioned whether he was picking up actual radio waves or just cycling through his memory like a CD multidisc drive. 

Did he know all these songs or were some of them new to him? Did he only listen to music of the twenties and thirties or had his tastes grown in time? You wondered what he would think of jazz now - it had changed so much in the last hundred years. 

You were a block away from your destination when the curiosity got the better of you. 

“The radio thing you do,” you began awkwardly, “is that something you can turn off completely or…?” 

The demon thought for a moment before you heard what you believed to be the sound of a needle gently lifting off a record. No music. No static. Something weighed heavily in his eyebrows, making them crinkle ever so slightly. He didn’t look at you when he answered, “It is uncomfortable.”

And that’s all he said before his fingers found the front door of “Bob’s Barber.” Alastor held the door, motioning for you to go first. What a gentleman.

Bob’s Barber was a stereotypical barbershop, complete with leather chairs and red and white twirled poles. Inside was a shark demon, dressed in a white apron, sweeping the floor of hair. 

“It looks like acid rain today,” the barber muttered. 

“Yes, well, it’s a good thing I always carry an umbrella*,” you answered.

The barber stopped his sweeping to smile at you. “Since when do you take the front door, Loca?”

You pounded his fist with your own, “And who’s this?” His smile dropped when he turned to Alastor, standing at your side, hands placed gently on the top of his microphone. 

“A friend.” 

Not a friend. 

“And since when do you have friends?” The barber was not backing down, smelling blood in the water. Smart guy.

“Didn’t say he was my friend, Luis,” you smiled. 

The shark demon turned to you, his large hand - fin? - ruffling the hair atop your head. You hated when he did that, but also loved it. 

“Alastor,” the Radio Demon held out his claws for a handshake, “perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

The shark demon looked from his hand to his face and back to his hand again. “No.” You didn’t hold back your laugh. “But if Loca says you’re cool, then go on ahead.” The barber leaned behind the front desk and cranked a lever. A panel in the mirrored wall popped open - oh, the fun of speakeasies. 

You felt Luis’ eyes bore into Alastor as you made your way through the wall and down a set of stairs. You were suddenly very grateful for the overprotective shark demon who had become something of a friend over the years. 

“Mimzy did always love her theatrics!” Alastor’s tone was light, but you could tell he was irritated by the bruise in his ego. Narcissist. 

It was early, the club technically wouldn’t be open for hours. The lights were on revealing the slick wetness of a newly polished wood floor that gave way to red carpeting. The bar was at the very back of the establishment, wooden and antique with a backdrop of rows and rows of bootleg liquor - the original stuff. Seems nostalgia wasn’t lost on the old guard of Hell. Moonshine was still made from white sugar, the bottles were random containers of glass wrapped in handwritten labels. 

Booths lined the back of the establishment, their red velvet cleaned weekly. Closer towards the stage were tables, white clothes covering their tops, complete with candle centerpieces. It was a truly classic Prohibition Era establishment. Complete with a grand piano at the middle of it all. How Mimzy still managed to pull all this off after a hundred years you didn’t know. Your job was to show up, learn the music, and play. 

“Seven years and it hasn’t changed a bit!” Alastor twirled his cane, having come to rest at his back as he surveyed the establishment. 

“Alastor!?” A small, rather portly woman popped out from behind the stage curtain. 

The Radio Demon’s lips curled as the woman ran over. “By the way, darling,” he leans into you, his lips brushing the crest of your ear. In a low whisper, his voice deep and raspy, the demon spoke, “I’m not a virgin.” 

HOLY SHIT. Before your brain has time to process his words, Mimzy runs over.

“Alastor! I thought I heard your voice!” Dressed like a pink flapper, complete with feather in hair, the club owner practically tramples Alastor as she brings him into a… hug? You try not to let your jaw hit the floor. “Sweetie, Doll-face, So good to see you! How've you been? Good? Good.” She turns to the barkeep. “Rex, bust out the good rye, we’re celebratin’!” 

God, she was the sweetest, loudest person you had ever met. 

“Mimzy, dear, so good to see you,” Alastor’s radio was back to his jovial tune. Mimzy led him to a booth, completely ignoring your presence. 

As the demon was whisked away, you felt his shadow twirl about your ankles before joining your own. 

Oh, no, no, no. He doesn’t just get to say something like that and walk away. You spin and kick at the shadow, but nothing comes of it - well, nothing you wanted to happen. Instead, you manage to pop a blister. 

“Fuck,” you mumbled, pulling off a heel. Red blood bubbled on the side of your foot. 

Great. Just great. You were going to half to walk home, across Pentagram City, shoeless - again. Can’t fly home in daylight, too many eyes would be on you and you couldn’t risk anyone following you back to the Hotel. It would be too easy.

You limp a few steps to a table, but stop when Alastor’s shadow beats you to it. The thing grabs a napkin and brings it back to you. Hesitating, you turn to the booth where Mimzy and Alastor were now sitting, chatting away. The demon doesn’t even glance in your direction, completely entranced with whatever joke the two of them were laughing at. 

The Radio Demon was a superb multitasker if he could tell jokes and watch you through his shadow at the same time. Or, was it not conscious control? Was it a mindless minion like his shadow imps that fixed the Hotel wall the first day you moved in? Or was his shadow a soul he owned, someone tricked into servitude for the rest of eternity? 

“Thank you?” You accepted the token, using it to wipe up the blood from your foot. The shadow quickly zips away, melting into your own. You could still feel it’s presence, however, as you pulled off the other shoe to storm off into the back room. 

“Oh, no you don’t!” Mimzy’s call stopped you in your tracks. “Yeah, I see ya’, come ova’ here!” 

White knuckled, you rounded the corner to face the two of them, drinks being poured at their table - Alastor with his usual rye and Mimzy with some sort of gin and tonic. 

“Don’t think ya’ can just sneak by me,” she chastises. “Ya’ skipped out on me last weekend. It ain’t gonna happen this week.”

Oh, the look on Alastor’s face right now. He was relishing your scolding. Asshole. Why was he even here anyway? 

“Sheet music is on the piano. You’re fillin’ in for Roxie.” 

“Two days!?” You protested. “You want a full headliner in two days!?” 

“You gonna complain? That’s showbiz, kid!” She took a swig of her drink and hiccuped. 

“Oh, go easy on the poor dear, Mimzy. She’s…” Alastor smiled, but you cut him off. 

“I do not need your sympathy.” You stomped over to the black piano and swiped the music sheets atop it. 

Mimzy looked between the two of you. “You let her talk to you like that?”

“He doesn’t let me do anything. I do whatever I want,” you answered for him and stormed out. 

____________________________________________

“I’ll see you later, Luis,” you called to the shark demon as you stomped back onto the streets of the Entertainment District, very aware of the Radio Demon’s shadow following you. 

No way in Hell were you going to practice with an audience - and in front of Alastor no less. Ugh! You’d take the music and practice back at the Hotel, hidden away in the old music room where no one would bother you. 

Jesus, you needed a cup of tea or a yoga session or something! You were wound so tightly after last night and this morning that you were grinding your teeth as you walked. Maybe you should make a stop at Rosie’s on the way back, bounce a few ideas off of her, figure out what she thinks you should do to solve your Radio Demon problem. Maybe…

“Need a ride?” 

Fuck. As if you needed another problem right now!

A black limo slowed its pace to match yours. The window rolled down to reveal Vox in a newly pressed suit, a sly grin on his face. How the fuck did he find you?

You rolled your eyes and kept limping walking, a familiar ache building in your feet. Angel had done a great job in patching your blisters, and these new shoes helped a ton, but you had still walked all the way across Pentagram City this morning - perhaps you bit off more than you could chew. Regardless, you were not getting in that limo. 

“Hey, where you goin’?” Vox awkwardly chuckled. The media demon practically fell out the door onto the ground, landing on all fours. He brushed himself off and sped walked until he caught up with you. Falling in line, he grabbed both his lapels, sauntering next to you. Lesser demons noted the Overlord’s presence, and quickly parted for you to pass. 

“None of your business,” you snapped through gritted teeth, speeding up. 

“Mind if I join you?” He flashed you a grin. 

“I do, actually.” 

God, this guy can’t take a hint. 

“Oh, well okay then…” Vox’s smile faltered, he turned his attention to the path ahead, but he didn’t leave. “I guess I‘ll just head home then… Which just so happens to be in the same direction…” He continued alongside you another block before you put the breaks on. 

“Vox, what do you want from me!?” You snapped, your hands curling into fists, crushing the sheet music you walked all the way here to get. 

Vox took a step back, hurt flashing across his screen before it was replaced by his neutral grin. “I just wanted to know if you got my flowers?”

You could feel the artery pulsing in your temple in agitation. You took a breath, stifling the flames itching beneath your skin. “Yes, I got your blue Forget-Me-Knots, very clever.”

“I’m glad you liked them,” he beamed, his confidence newly restored. 

God, this guy was like a golden retriever. 

“Is that all?” You ground your teeth. 

“No, actually.” He pulled another flower from his jacket pocket, offering it to you. “I was wondering if you would like to join me tonight?” The media demon painted his best grin on his face, his eyebrow cocked in question. He looked smug, his aura wafting off scents of rosemary - the scent of pride. He thought oh-so highly of himself. 

Your eyes flit between him and the blue flower, a dumb look on your face. You blinked a few times, “What?” 

“He’s asking you out!” Some random dude screamed from the growing crowd. 

Oh God, there were cameras. Demons were filming. This wasn’t good. The blood instantly drained from your face. “You’re… what?” 

The demon cleared his throat, preparing a rehearsed speech. “You’re the first demon in a long time to not take one look at me and flee. To look at me and not immediately idolize me. To look at me and not want something from me. In fact, you wanted nothing to do with me.” The media demon grabs your hand, his thumb brushing over your palm. Small sparks of static electricity dance their way up your arm. It felt different from Alastor’s static, Vox’s was more metallic and surface level whereas Alastor’s melted into your bones. 

You felt the Radio Demon’s shadow stir beneath your feet twirling about itself in agitation. Did the shadow know you could feel it? Did it know you could sense its agitation as easily as you could smell the emotions wafting off of others? 

“You’re absolutely breathtaking, but I’m sure you already knew that.” He chuckles. “There’s just something about you… I don’t even know you and yet I do not feel worthy of you.” Another chuckle, then a pause, a hesitation. “I would be truly and deeply honored if you would join me for…”

SCREECH.

“Hello, old pal,” Alastor was suddenly behind you, his radio pure static defeaning your ears. You jumped a few steps back, putting as much room between you and Vox as you could muster. You clutched your hand to your chest protectively, Vox’s electricity diminishing with each second his skin wasn’t on yours. 

The Radio Demon took a step in front of you, blocking your view of the media demon. He twirled his cane before slamming it against the stone pavement, green sparks flying from where it made contact. His shadow found its place beneath his feet once more. 

A pair of eyes and a mouth appeared in the shadow, as if Alastor’s own smile and irises were blocking the darkness. It shot a look of pure hatred at the media demon, its ears curling as if horns, its mouth widening in a razor sharp grin. His shadow looked absolutely lethal, but Alastor looked as cool as a cucumber, as if he just so happened across two friends during one of his outings. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Vox spat, returning the flower to his lapel. The demon’s left eye patterned red and white in anger. 

“I happened to be in the neighborhood,” the demon sang, cleaning his monocle as if Vox wasn’t worth giving his full attention to. 

Why was he… Oh, wait a minute. Now you get it. Alastor and Vox were fighting over you, not the lover’s triangle kind of fight, but the “Vox has something I want” kind of fight. You were a toy and they were two toddlers throwing a tantrum about who got to play with you. 

That’s why Alastor offered you his arm as you strode across town. That’s why he played the gentleman as you passed V Tower. That’s why he clung to you, his hands on your fingers, as you walked through the Entertainment District. You were a toy, an object for the two of them to stake a claim in owning. 

You weren’t a valuable toy to either of them - you felt the need to point out - this fight was about power, not about you at all. Figures…

“This has nothing to do with you, you Old Timey Prick!” Vox’s screen began to glitch, his voice cutting in and out with his screen. “So fuck off!” 

Alastor took his time fixing his monocle back into place before responding. “Hmm, yes. I do believe we have overstayed our welcome here in the Entertainment District, darling. Care for a lift home?” He eyes you from over his shoulder, his elbow out in anticipation. 

Vox looked to you, his face visibly saddening. God, it was pathetic. “She’s coming with me. I have already offered her a ride!” Vox motioned to the limo. 

Jesus boys, just whip them out and measure already. 

“Thestral is a guest at ~my~ Hotel and as such she is ~my~ responsibility. What would our dear Princess Morningstar say if I let her prattle about with the likes of you?” The demon’s eyes narrowed at Vox, a green aura emanating from his form.  

You know, part of you really wanted to see them duke it out right here, right now, so they could finally see who the real winner was between the two of them, but another part of you wanted this nightmare to end. 

Something in your line of sight caught your eye and gave you an idea. Spinning, you snuck off, deciding upon Option C. 

____________________________________________

“You did fucking what!?” Angel practically choked on his drink. 

“I left them there,” you sipped your Cabernet, letting the tannins dance across your tongue. “Right in the middle of the Entertainment District.”

Angel was laughing so hard he had whiskey coming out of his nose, “I would have paid so much fucking money to see the looks on their faces!” 

“And Vox just let you take his ride?” Husk raised an eyebrow, busying himself with the glasses behind the bar. 

“The Computer Monitor was too busy short circuiting to do anything about it,” you shrugged. And you offered the driver a lot of money. A sum the shark couldn’t refuse. 

“Damn, kid. You got some balls,” Husk shook his head. You know he didn’t approve of the stunt. All it did was increase the magnification on the microscope you had now found yourself under. 

You spun the half empty glass across the countertop, “Hey, where is Alastor anyway?” 

Husk shrugged, cleaning another glass, “Haven’t seen him since you two left this morning.” 

Good. You needed an evening without the overbearing Overlord and his snooping shadow following your every move. Tonight, you could relax. 

“So you gonna take Vox up on his offer?” Angel wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

You stopped your twirling and shot Angel a dumb look. 

“What?” He threw his hands up in defense. “You can’t blame a guy for trying. Especially…” He pulls up Vitter on his phone and showed the both of you the video which had now reached over a million views. “After a declaration such as this.” 

You watched as Vox repeated his mantra and then the video and audio filled with static - Alastor’s doing you assumed - before it cut out completely. Nice trick. You were going to have to figure out how to do that yourself. 

Vox’s words were nice, but coming from an Overlord they just sounded pathetic. Like one of your victims begging for their life before you burnt them to a crisp. 

“I have absolutely no interest,” you turned your nose up. 

“Because of Smiles or…?” Angel winked. 

Your face turned red. “B.. Because of nothing!” You stuttered. “I have no interest in dating or fucking of any kind.” 

Angel did a double take. “We seriously need to talk about your priorities, toots.” 

“Not everything is about sex, you horny motherfucker,” Husk snaps. 

“Wrong,” Angel sang, holding his glass up for another drink. “Everything in the world is about sex, except for sex. Sex is about pleasure.” 

Husk begrudgingly pours himself another, rolling his eyes. 

You snort into your wine. “Did you just misquote Oscar Wilde?”

Angel blinks at you. 

“The quote is ‘everything in the world is about sex, except for sex. Sex is about power,” you correct. 

Angel blinks again, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think that’s right.” 

The two of you laugh, Husk rolling his eyes. 

“But you know what I mean?” Angel shrugged. 

“Uhm,” you hid your mouth in your wine glass. “I don’t actually…” 

Angel looked shocked. “Wait, don’t tell me, you’re a fucking virgin!?”

You finished off the glass royally humiliated. 

“Oh, this is fucking priceless!” Angel hit the bar, wooing in excitement. 

“Here we are!” Charlie kicks open the kitchen door, the bouquet of blue flowers in her hand. She rescued them from the trash can, fixed them up, and found a vase. “Like new!” The Princess places the vase before you, her eyes sparkling in excitement. 

Angel, looked between you and the flowers and burst into a laugh so hard he fell off the stool. 

“Oh my gosh! Are you alright?” Charlie helps him off the floor. 

You turn to Husk and motion for the wine bottle. He gladly gives it to you, his energy matching yours.  

Angel, wheezing, grabs a flower from the bouquet and tucks it behind your ear. You let him, shooting him a dumb look as he continues to laugh. 

“Why?” You huff. 

“Well,” Charlie bites her lip, still trying to process what was happening. “He went through so much trouble that I felt bad!”

Ah, yes, Ms. Bleeding Heart, you forgot.  

There goes the rest of your evening…

____________________________________________

“What? You think I'm fucking lying?!” Blitz cowered behind his desk. “1923, Chicago. Esther Hadassah.” Blitz flipped over a photo and placed it before the Radio Demon. “1937, Lae, New Guinea. Hannah Samuel.” Another photo. “1947, Washington, D.C. Miriam Amren.” Another. “1969, back in Chicago. Phoebe Corinth.” Another. “The last one we have is from 1974, London. Mary Beth Lazarus.” 

Five different photos; five different points in time; five different names, but one woman. All of the women photographed - although, different hair styles and clothing - looked exactly like YOU. 

“This bitch has strong genes!” Blitz awkwardly laughed. “But we haven’t been able to find anything past 1974, yet.” 

Alastor picked up one of the photographs of you in 1947. Your hair was curled into a cute little bob with waves more iconic of the 1930s than the late 40s. You had a large sun hat tipped slightly askew atop your head and a boa wrapped around your neck, which complimented your yellow dress beautifully. Your hair was blonde then, not dyed to silver like it was now, your skin was pink and full of life - you had a human disguise, but your eyes still shined their vibrant gold. You were sitting at a coffee shop reading a newspaper, a young lady sitting next to you, reading over your shoulder, her face hidden behind your hat. 

The hat covered part of your face as well, but he would know those red lips anywhere. 

The demon covered his face with his hand and laughed, an hysteric laugh. “Oooooh, someone’s keeeeeeeping secreeeeeeets.” He sang, a look of pure mania sprawling across his face as the music on his radio fizzled out to static. 

“I’m sorry?” Blitz was thoroughly confused, terror growing in his eyes at the sudden darkening of the room. 

You’ve been dead a lot longer than six years… He laughed again, the room turning green. Oh, Alastor was rightfully irritated after that little stunt you pulled today in the Entertainment District, but now? Now he was pissed.  

In a spark of green flame, the demon slowly burned the photo of you to ash…

Time to go hunting. 

____________________________________________

“Goodnight, guys!” You call over your shoulder, your thoughts muddled and the ache in your feet numbed by the wine. 

You decided you needed a night off from babysitting the Vees. Not like they actually did anything anyway. You owed Mimzy a full headliner in a few nights and were going to need all your energy to get up early to practice before Charlie’s onslaught of trust exercises. How trust falls and circle activities were supposed to get you to Heaven’s door, you didn’t know, but hey, you signed up for this.

So, a hot shower, and a night of jazz awaited you. Or, whatever was playing on the radio, which was almost always jazz. Was that Alastor’s doing or…?

CREAK! 

You spin, static zipping down your spine, but Alastor isn’t there. No one is there. Not even the shadows moved.

SNAP! 

Another sound, from the other end of the hallway this time. Was it getting darker in here… and green? 

AHHH! A scream. 

You spin again, and suddenly, you’re not in the hallway anymore. You’re… in a swamp? 

Crickets chirped in the night as the humidity licked your skin. Gigantic trees cascaded above you and around you, vegetation weeping from its branches as if the trees themselves were melting from the heat. The world was a mixture of browns and greens as the aroma of wildflowers danced across your senses. And stars… Through the canopy you swore you saw stars twinkling in the night. 

You hadn’t seen stars in years. 

In another situation, it would have been beautiful, but then the stars winked out, the world diving into a hue of green, the wind carrying the threat of radio static.  

Alastor’s cackles echoed around you, bouncing off the trunks, making it hard to tell exactly where the demon was. 

“This isn’t real,” you mumbled, the sweat sticking to your skin. “This isn’t real.”

It was a dream - a nightmare - it had to be. Last time the demon had you trapped you woke up in bed. Now, you were passed out drunk in your room, having a nightmare. You had to be. 

A flock of birds takes off behind you, causing you to jump. Where the fuck had Alastor taken you!? This wasn’t Earth - although it looked a whole Hell of a lot like it. A pocket dimension? 

Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! You spun in circles, eyeing the treeline. If he was going to attack, he would have done it already. That or he’s toying with you. Alastor does like his theatrics. 

You debated grabbing a stick and stabbing yourself; pain to wake you up, right? Wrong. That didn’t work last time. Alastor slammed you against the wall in the last dream and then nearly choked you to death - if that wasn’t enough to wake you…

“Oh, don’t look so scared.” Alastor cooed from the darkness. “I just wanted to have a little chat.” The demon materializes from the shadows before you, his smile twisted. You had seen Alastor’s barely contained anger before - in the way he held his shoulders, the tight curl of his lips when he smiled. This Alastor was barely keeping himself together. His eyes continuously flipped from irises to dials, a thread of green stitched across his smile, the antlers atop his head held a few extra prongs on either side. He could barely keep his demonic form contained. 

The demon sings, his hands coming to rest atop the microphone before him. “What’s a chat between friends?” 

You readied yourself. “Is that what we are now?” You were stalling. You needed to stall, to think of some way out of this. Think. Think! Think!

“I don’t know, darling,” he purred, “you tell me.” His static melted into your bones. 

“I’m dreaming. This is a dream.” There, a break in the trees, a glow of artificial light. That had to be something!

Alastor’s eyes sparkled in amusement. “Is it?” 

You take a step towards what you hope is salvation, but the demon melts into shadow and appears behind you. He wraps his arms around your body, his one hand on your throat, the other around your waist. “Mr. Alastor!” Keep up the façade, if this wasn’t a dream you couldn’t risk him finding out who you are. “This is hardly appropriate!” 

Alastor had every intention of confronting you tonight. He had every intention of demanding to know why you were here, at ~his~ Hotel. He wanted to know just how much power you had. You should have more souls than Carmilla herself at this point in time. You should be an Overlord rivaling that of Zestial. Yet you spent your undead years flitting back and forth between here and Earth? He wanted to know why. He wanted to know how. 

The I.M.P. had only recently uncovered such power, but there were others in Hell - most notably the Succubi - who could travel back and forth between the realms. He wanted to know how you had uncovered such power for yourself, being a Human Sinner and all. 

Yet, his eyes landed on the blue flower Angel had put in your hair, and now he couldn’t think straight. He couldn’t think about anything other than Vox and how he stood in the streets of the Entertainment District mere hours ago, holding your hand, trying to claim you for himself. 

He wanted your soul that very first day you stepped into the Hotel. He didn’t know why, he just knew he had to have you. He had to possess you. You had to be his. 

That night in the library when he probed you for your power, he couldn’t stop looking at your neck and the blood thrumming through it. How lovely you would look with a collar wrapped around your throat. How lovely you would look at the other end of a chain. Yet, his mind kept returning to thoughts of your blood. He had licked his lips in anticipation. He didn’t just want to own you, he wanted to taste you. 

Thankfully, you had caught on to his little game and shoved him away. He didn’t know what he would of done had you not. Sure, he was a Cannibal in this life and the one before it, but he never had the urge to devour before. He ate because he liked the power it gave him, not because of the power beheld by his victims. But you? Oh, you smelled divine and he knew you would taste delicious. 

So when he saw you hand in hand with Vox, well… He couldn’t have that now, could he? And then you rode off, disappearing and leaving him and Vox absolutely flabbergasted. You had shown him up. He couldn’t have you showing him up. 

It made him look weak. 

You squirmed in his arms, trying to break free. He clamped down around you harder. With his one hand around your waist, the other went to the flower in your hair. Holding it between his fingers, he summoned his green Hellfire and burnt it to a crisp. 

And then you had the audacity to laugh at him, “Jealous your little boyfriend is moving on?” 

Alastor growled, threatening to bite your head off. Then, something unexpected happened, he felt you suck in a shaky breath. Not because you were afraid - never because you were afraid - but because his growl had turned you on, and your ass was now perfectly aligned with his crotch. 

His cock twitched to life in his pants at the thought, and you both froze. 

Alastor was mortified. This has never happened before. He’s rarely had this ever happen in front of someone else, let alone because of someone else. The demon didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. It had caught him more off guard than it had you. He didn’t…

You ground your ass into his hips.

The demon’s breath hitched, his lips pressing into your ear. You rolled your hips again, and the wave of pleasure it sent through him had his dick hardening. The demon instinctively grabbed onto your hips, not to stop you, but to pull you closer, to give you leverage as you rolled again. 

His breath was shaky in your ear, his body leaning into you. You brought your hands up and went for his hair, threading your fingers behind his head for leverage. 

Something buzzed between the two of you, almost as if Alastor's magic was instinctively reacting to your body. His static reached out to caress your form, making its way up your thighs, over your hips, and curling around your breasts.

A small gasp escaped your lips that had Alastor's blood singing.

On the next roll, the demon moved with you, running his lengthening member up your ass as your hips moved down. 

“Fu.. Fuck,” he breathed into your ear, a wave of pleasure running through his body that had him practically bucking at the knees.

Your head fell back against his chest, your face flush with desire.

Shit, were you enjoying this as much as he was?

The demon spun you around, reaching out to cup your cheeks...

… and you side-kicked him square in the chest, sending him flying backward onto the swampy ground. Then you ran. Zipping past trees, branches smacking you in the face, you ran desperately for that source of light.

You didn’t dare summon any of your magic to get away. If Alastor didn’t already know you were the Shadow, this wasn’t the time to have him figure it out. 

You practically fell face-first onto a wooden floor, having entered a room through a hole in the wall. Yes, definitely a pocket dimension.

Not slowing to look around, you slammed through the door and landed in the hallway of the Hotel, kicking the wood shut behind you. 

Catching your breath, you sat and waited, waiting for the demon to barrel out after you. As you sat there and waited for Alastor to come and kill you, the scent of warm vanilla, orange, and mint hit your nose - coming from you.

Jesus, you smelled like a turned on victim.

The world behind the door remained silent. Not even the crickets of the swamp could be heard. 

“What in the fuck just happened?” Angel stood shell-shocked behind you. He wore a set of pink pajamas, Fat Nuggets tucked sleepily under his arms. The demon looked between you and the door: Alastor’s door. 

He gave you a knowing smile, “Did you hate fuck him?” 

Shit. Not a dream.

"Now kiss" *side kicks you and runs* "I said 'kiss' not 'kick!"

*Yes, that was a Captain America reference! Thought it would be funny to have that as the code for the speakeasy lol

-> Chapter Seven

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

Tag List (Let me know if you want to be added!)

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @goyablogsstuff

[sukimii]

Clingy

Tags: fuff, slight angst, foul language, touch-starved!Reader

Notes: Before reading any of my fics please read this first, thank you.

"Do you even love me?"

"Yes" your answer is immediate, with no hesitation. Of course, you love him, if you could write it in the sky you would. Yet now, the man you love is angry at you, with a mix of disappointment while you're on the verge of crying.

"Then why the fuck aren't you initiating shit?"

You know you should say something. You know you should open up and explain your behavior, but it's easier said than done. Because in the past, whenever you opened up no one listened. They either pretended not to hear or changed the topic of conversation. So you settled on pretending.

Over the years you became good at faking your moods and smiles. It came naturally for you to plaster a smile on your face and make it believable. You became good at pretending you were fine, when in fact you wanted nothing more than to have someone to listen. But no one ever did. No one cared enough to listen to the end, because as long as it doesn't concern them your insecurities are irrelevant.

"If I don't text you, you don't. If I don't call you, you don't. If I don't kiss you, you don't. Why the fuck are we in a relationship then?" The anger in his voice is deafening. It makes you want to crawl on yourself, wishing to disappear. You can feel his resentment in your bones. You know you should speak up, but your voice seems to be stuck in your throat.

"I didn't call you for three fucking days to see if you would. And guess what? You didn't!" Bakugou's eyes narrow on you, waiting for an answer that he will probably never get. "Why the fuck aren't you speaking?! Do you even give a shit about me? About our relationship?"

"I-I do care"

"Fucking bullshit." He scoffs, one hand dragging along the roots of his hair while the other one curled into a fist. "If you cared you would've reached for me. If you cared you would show it through your actions. If you cared-"

You can't listen to all your flaws.

He's listing the very same things people in your past had complained about. The sad part is that you already know the endgame, which only worsens the angst creeping up your back.

Bakugou is the only person you managed to fall in love with. He's the only one that makes you feel important, the only one that always waits for you. He is the first one that makes your heart beat so loud to the point of tuning out the world. He is the only one that keeps you on your toes. The only one that can awaken emotions buried in the depths of your heart and soul.

But now, having him complain about you was destroying your already fragile heart. All the wounds that you managed to somehow patch over the years are now ripped open again. It hurts. His words are like stabs, and you don't have the strength to listen. Because the man you love isn't willing to wait anymore.

You should've seen this coming. It was bound to happen. But your childish self, that small part of you that believes in hope, thought he was going to be the exception. You feel betrayed, by yourself. And you snap.

"BECAUSE YOU WILL HATE IT!"

Your breathing is heavy and ragged, tears already spilling down your cheeks while Bakugou is stunned to silence, watching you with both his eyebrows raised. Then he frowns.

"Why would I hate it?"

"Because everyone does, sooner or later." You can feel snot threatening to drip down your nose, and you sniff, using the abused napkin in your hand to wipe it. "You say now that you want me to do all those things, but as soon as I do you will get sick of me. So-" you choke back another sob, gathering your phone and bag. "It's best if we break up. Sorry for wasting your time" and with those final words, you get up from the table, intent on leaving his house.

It's always like this.

In every relationship that you had, it always ended up with them complaining about you. Something, at the end of the day, made you unable to satisfy them properly. There's always something wrong with you. You. You're your own reason why no one can ever stand you. Right now, all you want to do is get back to your house and cry out all your frustrations. But before you reach the handle, something tugs your other wrist, spinning you around into a hard chest.

"You're not going away, not when you're opening up. Fucking finally" Bakugou drags you back to the living room, this time on the couch. All your protests fall on deaf ears, even the attempts of pushing him away are an utter failure.

"Sit your ass down and start chirpin'."

To Bakugou it's clear that there is a problem, which might run deeper than he originally expected. So he waits for you to speak up.

Yet again, you seem to lose your voice, uncomfortable under his stare, and you look anywhere but at him.

After several beats of silence - disrupted by your sniffs in a poor attempt to not cry- Bakugou sighs. "If we- if you don't speak up, I don't know how to help you. I already have a feeling of what the problem might be, but I want you to tell me. I want to hear it from you."

You mull a little over his words, weighing down your options. The past experiences with childhood friends, exes, and family members, taught you to never expect anything from anyone. Sometimes people pretend to listen because their goal is to seem nice, but once they realize that the problem is nothing interesting, they drop the subject. And as much as you love Bakugou, you don't believe he'll be any different.

"There's nothing too important. It's exactly what I said it is. You think I don't want to hold your hand? You think I don't want to wrap my whole body on you like a koala all day? I crave physical touch, I crave it so bad, but I can't. I can't" as you keep spilling out your frustrations, your voice grows bitter and resentful. "Because you enjoy it in the beginning, but then you'll get sick of it and call me clingy, just like everyone else did! I know that after, you'll tell me to 'get a life', to 'go bother someone else' and I don't want it to happen again! Because I'll be the one getting heartbroken while you all keep surfing life as if you didn't stump on my stupid, useless feelings! You're no different from the others, once you get what you want then I hold no value in your eyes. Just another bitch to add to the fuck list no-" Bakugou is quick to cover your mouth with his palm, and you finally look at him.

He looks… sad. His eyes are soft, mouth pressed into a thin line as he looks at you with what you could describe as pity. But in reality, you couldn't be any farther from the truth, because Bakugou isn't pitying you. No. He understands you.

"We already fucked, two months ago. And I'm still here, aren't I?" His voice is gentle, probably the softest you've ever heard him. As if trying to soothe a wounded animal. It's endearing.

Blinking the heavy veil of unshed tears away, you give him a couple of nods.

"Do you really think I would do something like that to you? Do you think I would say to anybody that I love them?" his palm slides down your neck until it rests comfortably at the back of your head. With breath stuck in your lungs, you offer him a soft shake of your head, no. You don't think Bakugou is that type, but you never know.

"Do you have any idea of how much I want you to do all those things? Fuck- be a fucking leech for all I care, just-!" His forehead lightly bumps into yours, the tip of the nose rubbing a couple of times against yours. His eyes are transfixed into yours, and you can feel goosebumps raise on your whole body at the intensity of his stare.

"I don't care if I'm in an uncomfortable position. I don't care if you're all sweaty from working out or if I'm barely standing because of a rough day. I want you to do anything you want. You want to spoon me? Do it. You want to hold my hand in public? Do it. You want hugs when I'm busy? Do it. Fuckin' do it. I don't care. Fuck- I could be in the middle of an important call and I still wouldn't refuse your attention!" His head dips into the crook of your shoulder while leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.

"I don't care what shit-stain you dated before me, all I care about is for you to be comfortable with me. Do you understand?" His arms are circling your back, holding you tight, but not enough to cut the breath out of you. You sniff, suppressing another sob that threatens to come out.

"Y-yes"

"Then hug me" He gives you a squeeze, voice barely above a whisper. "Please"

You know that this doesn't count as a potential improvement since, again, Bakugou is the one that initiated the physical contact. But you oblige, wrapping your arms around his neck.

For several minutes, you bask in the silence, enjoying the comfort and warmth. Until Bakugou speaks again, voice partially muffled by your clothes.

"I noticed how different you are with that weir- Hatsume."

"She-" you clear your throat, trying to get rid of the ragged tone "she never pushed me away. Probably the only one that never did." you don't want to relieve the past, but with Bakugou seems right. Up until now, he showed nothing but understanding.

"There were times when I would visit her back when she was in UA. She didn't mind when I would sleep on her while she worked on her babies. One day I remember falling asleep on her back, and she didn't complain. She- she was the only one that never called me a bother."

"You didn't do anything too scared I would…" he trails, lifting a little his head just enough to see your eyes.

"Call me clingy." You finish for him. His arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer.

"Even my parents pushed me away. I used to seek physical attention all the time. If it were possible, I would stay with you like this all day, but I know it's impossible. And I don't want you to think that I-… I don't want to be a burden. An inconvenience. I don't want you to hate me because of that. So I give you space. I let you initiate everything on your own terms because I'm scared of being annoying."

Bakugou listens. He knows that if he speaks you might try to make the conversation take a detour. So he waits for you to continue.

"I used to like sleepovers. I used to beg my parents to let me sleep at a friend's house. But then they told me no because I would be a bother, and that people are too nice to tell me that. Even holding hands was something I enjoyed, until someone slapped my hand away."

That detail doesn't sit right with Bakugou, and whoever slapped your hand was already on his piss-the-fuck-off list.

"Is this why you keep refusing to stay the night?" When you nod, Bakugou feels like the heaviest stone has just been lifted from his chest. When he slept with you for the first time, he asked you to stay over. It was late, and dark outside, and letting you wander the streets where danger lurked wasn't something he was keen on. Plus, it would give him more time to spend with you. But when you got up and dressed, turning down his offer saying that you were busy the next day, he walked you home.

The second time, again, you shut him down. He tried to be understanding. At the time, he couldn't understand why you refused to crash at his place when he did overstay at yours. At first, he thought you didn't like his apartment, or that you didn't feel comfortable enough. So, he bought a couple of plants, hoping that it will ease you, and stuffed his bathroom with products he saw at yours. He made sure to put hairclips and hair ties near the sink, in a pink-stained glass bowl. And different types of pads were stashed in the first drawer, just in case. He also added some décor, similar to your aesthetic, but even that didn't work. Despite your compliments, saying that you loved the changes he made, it still wasn't enough to make you stay.

Another time he tried again was three weeks ago. He tried his hardest to fuck you stupid, he hoped that six hours of constant sex will tire you out enough that you will cave, and finally spend the night at his. He tried different positions that he knew would strain your legs. Positions that will weaken your body, and time for you to recover were minimal. If he was generous, only a minute before he went at it again. Despite all his efforts, you still went home. Bruised, body screaming in pain at the effort, and on the verge of passing out, you asked him to take you home. And Bakugou, at that point, began to think that maybe you didn't love him.

He became self-conscious. Because why else wouldn't you want to spend more time with him? Why would you only have sex and then drop out as soon as you felt like sleeping?

Yet that theory wasn't exactly making sense, because the very next day you asked him to stay over at yours.

But now, Bakugou understands. He now knows what the problem is, and he has to admit that you told him way more than he originally expected. He's glad you did so, it's a step in the right direction, and he believes that improvements will happen soon.

One hand moves on the back of your head, cradling you closer while his lips ghost the skin right below your ear.

"Let's take baby steps" he murmurs, leaving a feathery kiss on the side of your neck. Your arms hook around his shoulders, leaning into him.

"Stay tonight" He feels your body tense up, and before you can utter a word -already knowing what you were going to say, he squeezes you, silently adding the 'please' that was lingering on the tip of his tongue.

When he feels your body relax in his hold, and a soft 'ok' leaves your lips, Bakugou allows himself to smile, happy with the outcome.

[chrisevansonly]

𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒚 | 𝒐𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓 𝒑𝒊𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊

☁︎ oscar piastri x female reader

☁︎ oscar is experiencing thanksgiving with your family for the first time….and boy is it crazy

☁︎ no warnings just fluff and maybe a tad overwhelmed oscar lol

☁︎ i can’t believe october is starting to come to an end, these little fall fics have been making me so happy, i think ill do another one in december too to get ready for christmas 🤭 p.s thanksgiving in canada is beginning of october in contrast to the USA which is end of november in case you’re confused :)

Thanksgiving was a little chaotic in your family, when everyone gathered together and all sat down for the annual fall meal, only this year it was your boyfriend Oscar’s first time attending it with you. He knew you got your vibrant and extroverted personality from your parents, but now that he looks back on it, he’s pretty sure your entire family played a part in it.

“Oscar when do you and my little sunshine plan on having children hmm?” your grandma asked, causing you to choke on your water

“Nana!”

Oscar laughed patting your back gently to help with your coughing

“I think whenever the time is right, we’re in no rush”

“Well you’re only getting older!”

You shook your head at the old woman’s antics your mother stepping in before you

“Mom, leave these two alone, they’re both still in their early twenties, no babies for them, eat your turkey”

“Never too early to have a baby, such nonsense!”

Leaning over to Oscar you looked at him apologetically

“I’m sorry, she’s very persistent”

He only smiled, kissing your forehead as he squeezed your knee under the table

“I don’t mind at all, it’ll happen someday anyway”

The two of you may have been young but you both knew that you were endgame for each other, there was no one else on earth more perfect for either of you, and everyone was starting to see that.

“So Oscar, i’ve been watching your season, looks pretty good this year”

It was your father’s time to chime in, Oscar nodding as he gave your father 100% of his attention.

“Yes, it’s been going really well, the car feels good this year, so i’m looking forward to finishing the next few races and then having some time off” he replied, a bit hesitantly as he always did with your dad

“That’s good to hear, I’d love to come see a race sometime”

You smiled

“You should come to Las Vegas with us dad! You and mom have been wanting to go back there so why not?”

In hindsight you should have asked Oscar first if he was okay with this, but knowing him, he wouldn’t mind at all. He loved spending time with your family as much as you did with his.

“Oh that’s a great idea honey, i’m sure we can figure something out!”

The rest of dinner went off without a hitch, calm conversation and laughter shared between everyone, you could already feel the classic thanksgiving hangover hitting you as you lounged on the couch tucked into Oscar’s side, your eyes heavy and tired.

“NO YOU JUST SLAPPED ME WITH ANOTHER PICK UP UP 4 IM GONNA KILL YOU!!!”

Oscar laughed hearing your little cousins playing uno in the other room as you rolled your eyes. If anyone was the loudest on these holidays it was the kiddos.

“YEAH WELL YOU JUST SUCK AT THE GAME THEN!”

It wasn’t long before your aunt went in there and told them off, quiet chatter resuming after the mini scream fest over the classical card game had ensued. Truth be told you were nervous for Oscar to experience thanksgiving with your family because you weren’t always put together and fancy, you were loud and energetic, your family loved playing games, having treasure hunts and playing games of charades.

You knew deep down it wouldn’t everyone’s cup of tea but Oscar wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d never felt more comfortable and at home like he did with you when you visited your family. It made him feel normal and accepted, he didn’t have to worry about the media, the race track or the constant murmurs going around the paddock.

“How was your first thanksgiving experience love?”

He smiled down at you, his finger tips running up and down your back

“I loved it, really it was so much, I can’t wait to keep experiencing this craziness with you”

“Oscar loves the thanksgiving craziness…never thought i’d say that”

The Aussie laughed leaning down to kiss you

“Well now I get to experience a different craziness from yours everyday”

“Hey!”

You frowned jokingly but he was quick to once again bring his lips to yours, deepening the kiss enough to have your face flush, thankfully your family too enamoured in their own activities to notice your little display of affection.

“I love you and all your craziness darling, it’s what makes you, you.” he stated softly, taking his time to admire you

“I love you more.”

Oscar had all he needed right in front of him, he’d never felt more welcomed and appreciated than he did right now, curled up on the couch at your parents house after a delicious dinner, something he would continue to be apart of for years…and years to come.

[libby-for-life]

A Dragon's Tale part 2. Read part 1 for this to make sense. Adamsapple endgame

Adam woke up feeling content and warm. It had been quite a while since he felt this comfortable. That's when he heard a deep rumble and realized that he wasn't alone. Adam's instinct kicked in and bucked the thing off his back. The red and white dragon flew into another tree. Adam didn't look back this time and made a portal to his apartment in Heaven before closing it once he was safely inside.

He forced his true angelic form back until he resembled a more welcomed form of Heaven before sighing. "Jesus, I let that thing sleep on me?!" Adam growled. He didn't care that this was the first time in a long time he actually slept well. He didn't care that the dragon was more playful then anything. Dragons were evil. Everyone knew that. Sera said that.

Adam reassured himself that everything would be fine as he sank into the plush cushions of his couch. "I'll just take some time, maybe a month or two, and search for a new Ring in Hell where I can let loose." It seemed like a reliable plan to him - finding a different Ring with no unexpected surprises. And no dragons.

The next few months were hell for him and wasn't that ironic considering Adam lived in Heaven, a paradise made for souls like him. Every use of golden wings was a reminder that they weren't truly his. Every time he looked in the mirror, his fake face stared back, desperate for him to let loose and be in his true form.

"Stop it," he told himself as he shoved a donut into his mouth while he walked with Lute. "Just a few more days."

"A few more days of what?" Lute asked, her sharp bronze eyes looking at him in curiosity. Adam shook his head. As much as he trusted Lute, he would not put the burden of his secret on her shoulders. She was as loyal as they come. Having her lie to her home and friends was something he could never ask of her.

"It's nothing, Lute," Adam said calmly, trying to reassure his loyal lieutenant. Lute's skeptical expression indicated that she wasn't entirely convinced by his response, but she chose to trust him nonetheless. "If you insist, Sir."

Finally, the day arrived. Adam chose a secluded forest in Envy with a lake nearby. It wasn't as nice as the Ring of Wrath, but it would do. If Adam didn't let loose his true form, he might spontaneously combust from the strain of trying to hide it.

He breathed in and closed the portal. He let the disguise melt away until he was back to his true dragon form and he let out a laugh. Finally! He could let loose and run wild. Adam bounded through the forest, his scales gleaming in the low light of Envy.

He flew and hunted down small creatures before letting them go, not truly hurting any of them though Adam probably did scar a few animals. He was so busy playing around by himself that he didn't notice the red eyes watching him. He also didn't notice the creature creeping closer.

Adam yelped, letting loose a string of fire into the air as he was tackled. He snarled and hissed but choked it back once he realized he was looking at the same dragon from Wrath. "Oh, hell no!" Adam growled. "How the fuck did you find me?!"

The dragon simply looked down at him...in amusement? No. This was an animal. As smart as some animals were, they weren't that smart. Adam was just being paranoid because he was in Hell with the same dragon from a different Ring.

"Get off of me! I'm not playing with you!" Adam screamed and tried to bite at the dragon's jugular. The dragon simply rolled them to dislodge Adam's grip and get a firmer hold to pin down.

"No! Get off! GET OFF!" Adam yelled. The dragon obliged and immediately, Adam flew off. He should have known that wouldn't be the end. That damn dragon followed him and tackled him out of the sky. They hit the ground hard.

And the thing had the audacity to look smug about it. Adam was beginning to think this wasn't a normal dragon. Or at least more intelligent than Adam gave it credit for. "Look...just....I need this. I don't get to do this a lot. You have no idea how strict Heaven is. If I...play with you...will you stop being so aggressive?"

The dragon got off him and Adam sighed in relief. Right. Play. What would they even do? "Ever hunt before?" The dragon snorted and Adam realized how dumb that sounded. He just asked a predator if it ever hunted prey before. Adam would've snorted too.

"Fine. Help me hunt or whatever. We aren't killing them though. We catch and release." Adam instructed, wondering why he was bothering to explain this to an animal. As smart as this animal probably was, would it understand the meaning of hunting without killing? Even Adam, who wasn't an animal, found it hard to control his instincts like that in the throws of hunting.

For the next two hours, Adam and Lucifer hunted prey and let them go after successfully catching them. Lucifer seemed to be having fun, and he was no longer tackling him, so that was good.

But Adam was getting tired and the big-toothed yawn he produced wasn't subtle at all. He settled down on the surprisingly soft grass and grunted when he felt that wonderful all-encompassing warmth envelope him.

"Get off you dumb dragon," Adam hissed, his voice carrying a hint of annoyance but lacking any real heat. The adrenaline from hunting with the dragon coursed through his veins, leaving him simultaneously exhilarated and exhausted. All he really wanted at that moment was to lie down and take a nap.

Soon, he was asleep again. The red and white dragon simply smirked. "Look how cute you are." He whispered, gently licking the golden ear before sucking on it. Adam grumbled and Lucifer let go.

"Hmmm...perhaps next time."

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

I saw you were looking for requests. What about a Carol x Reader where R and Carol have been in a relationship for sometime. Reader is hurt during the events of the last battle of EndGame. Carol doesn’t notice R is missing until everyone is kneeling over the fallen Tony and Carol realizes she can’t find R. They all help search and R is found, Carol is so scared. Angst please! You can end it however.

Lost and Found

Carol Danvers x Avenger!GN!Reader

Word Count: 444

Warnings: a little bit of angst

A/N: sorry it took so long I lost inspiration for a bit

You lay there, amidst the rubble and chaos of the final battle against Thanos, pain shooting through your body as you struggled to keep your eyes open. The battle had been fierce, and you had fought alongside Carol Danvers, your partner, your love. But now, as the dust settled and the victorious Avengers gathered around Tony Stark's fallen form, you were alone, unnoticed, lost in the aftermath.

Carol, consumed by the urgency of the moment, hadn't noticed your absence until it was too late. She searched frantically, her heart pounding with fear as she realized you were missing. "Where are you?" she whispered, her voice choked with panic.

Meanwhile, you struggled to move, your body battered and bruised. You tried to call out to Carol, to let her know you were still alive, but the words caught in your throat as darkness threatened to engulf you.

But then, a familiar voice cut through the haze of pain and despair. "There you are," Carol's voice, filled with relief and anguish, as she finally found you, crumpled and broken but alive. She fell to her knees beside you, gathering you into her arms, her hands gentle yet desperate as she checked you over for injuries.

"I'm here, Carol," you managed to croak, tears welling in your eyes as you clung to her, grateful beyond words that she had found you.

Carol's eyes were filled with tears as well, her voice trembling with emotion. "I thought I lost you," she whispered, her fingers tracing the lines of your face as if to reassure herself that you were real, that you were still with her.

You reached up, cupping her cheek in your hand, your thumb brushing away the tears that stained her cheeks. "You'll never lose me, Carol," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'll always be here, with you."

For a moment, you simply held each other, drawing strength from the warmth of each other's embrace, grateful for the miracle of your survival, of your love. But then, reality intruded once more, and you knew that you had to move, to help your friends, your family, in the aftermath of the battle.

Together, you and Carol rose to your feet, facing the uncertain future that lay ahead. But as long as you had each other, you knew that you could face anything, conquer any obstacle that stood in your way.

And so, hand in hand, you walked away from the wreckage of the past, towards a future filled with hope and possibility, secure in the knowledge that no matter what trials may come, you would face them together, as partners, as lovers, as soulmates.

[mygnolia]

get better! | 6. join stream 4 special guest

SMAU! synopsis -› in which your neighbor and popular twitch streamer park sunghoon breaks his arm, so he switches to vlog style content that matches up with yours! now everyone’s curious why 1) you have a cute boy in your apartment, 2) sunghoon’s not on his grind anymore, and 3) when are you two going to date!?

[1.9K WC] To be neighbors in the same apartment complex is a blessing- especially when all of your friends are across town. When you knock on Sunghoon’s door, it’s followed by a loud sound akin to a crash (is sunghoon okay???), before Sunghoon opens the door running a hand through his hair, feeling nervous.

“Hi.” He chokes out. “Come in.” You glance at his cast to make sure he’s okay, and despite his tweet from earlier where he took it off, it looks fine.

“Hi..? You..okay?” and the boy in question gives you a tight lipped smile. Was he…nervous?

You take in his apartment- it’s minimalistic in the best way, with succulents on the windows and polaroids of him and his friends hanging near the TV. While much of the furniture is white, it looks clean, and you’re glad that Sunghoon really does take care of his space. Twitch must pay him well (or used to) to have an apartment this nice.

He ushers you to his gaming room, where you see his extensive set-up. With monitors, cameras, headphones, and a glowing keyboard, you’re enamored by the way he’s gotten everything set-up all without his wires being tangled.

“I’m live- but I’m muted.” He starts, and his camera records him saying something, but the live audience on the other side is curious as to who he’s talking to since you were out of frame.

“Wait, I need a chair, right?” And it makes Sunghoon pause his one handed typing on the keyboard, mumbling a quiet ‘oh,’ before he stands back up.

“Here. Sit.” Sunghoon pushes you slightly to the gaming chair before your can protest, his movement awkward and robotic as he makes you sit down. The thought of Sunghoon being as nervous as you makes you smile, before you remember who you’re in front of.

‘IS THAT HIS GF’ ‘omg with yn rent free’ ‘YNNN I LOVE UR VIDS’ ‘bro they’re LITERALLY DATING’

When your eyes scan the messages, you call for Sunghoon to come back, who’s barely passed the door. “Let me unmute and introduce myself.” You suggest. And the streamer finds his palm becoming even more sweaty as he clicks a few buttons to turn the mic on. You watch him intently, and send him a warm smile as your thanks.

“Hi guys.” you wave at the camera before giving him the green light to get the chair that you need.

‘omg she’s so pretty’ ‘who is this wtf’ ‘where’s hoon lol’ ‘HIII YNNNNN’

A smile makes it’s way on your face with the last message. “My name is ____, and Sunghoon’s invited me over. Did he say anything to you guys?”

‘stream is called join live 4 special guest’ ‘nooo he never said anything’ ‘are you two tgt or what’

“We’re not together.” You confirm with a nervous smile, afraid of what would happen if his diehard fans found out about his relationship. “He’s just here to teach me bedwars.” The chat gets even faster- if it’s even possible. Questions and theories about your friendship with Sunghoon continue to pop up. “But don’t leave!” You say after you see some disinterest. “You guys should totally learn with me. Is there anyone who also doesn’t know how to play? Just..” You try to find the right words. “Think of Sunghoon as like, your boyfriend who’s teaching you bedwars.”

‘are he the one you keep tweeting about’ ‘YN IS HERE WOAHH’ ‘no yn you’re the gf he’s teaching’ ’so endgame couple!!’

The scraping of the chair as your neighbor tries to bring it in with one hand is funny to listen to outside of the door, and you giggle when you hear him curse, leaning out of frame to see if he’s okay or if he needs help.

“I heard that.” Sunghoon says when he’s in your range of vision, and it catches on the mic. With the way his viewers see your face light up now that he’s here, they automatically assume you two really have something going on. You’re only relieved to have him take over, no longer having to see some of the negative messages that fly by. At least on YouTube, you could ignore it all. Here? it’s all live, and you see it all.

Sunghoon sets up the chair and makes sure you’re comfortable before assuming his spot.

“What’s up bae-bees?” And you fight yet another smile at that stupid name. “This is Y/N. Makes vlog content but I think my gameplay is much more fun to watch. And by the way, check out our Q n A on her channel.” He glances over to you, and now that you’re properly able to look at him, you see the makeup that he had on for the photoshoot; and you can’t just not admit that Sunghoon is cute with his blush across the nose and freckles. You saw the after photoshoot post from him, too.

‘wait so dating rumors..???’ ‘DATING OR SIBLINGS’

“Are you two dating? Absolutely not.” He sends you a teasing grin, one that makes you swat at his shoulder with an indignant look- yeah, you’re not beating these dating allegations.

“Wow, you hate me? We spend like, 7 hours together the other day, and then you texted me saying you were outside- I thought we were friends!” And Sunghoon feels a flood of panic pass through him. Yes- he knows exactly what you mean. But his chat? his friends? Everyone who has just heard you speak? They have zero idea without context.

You’re not use to phrasing things as a streamer, and in an effort to calm his faster than light chat, Sunghoon stammers, “Yeah, we were cleaning so much of your new place. And those texts were all jokes- I’d never do that to a friend.”

Nodding in agreement without understanding the commotion you’ve caused, you try to read more of the chat.

‘pick me’ ‘ur too cute for her’ ‘she’s so cringe’

When Sunghoon sees the same things you do, his expression hardens, suddenly feeling upset. He was worried that this would happen. “Just because ____ isn’t in the gaming space or a streamer doesn’t mean you guys have the right to be mean to her. She puts in just as much effort into her videos and marketing her channel as much as I do for my gameplays. Please be nice, or I won’t be as willing to do special streams in the future.”

With appreciation, you pat his wrist, which is out of frame. You’re not really sure how to defend yourself against such baseless accusations, and considering Sunghoon’s not even your boyfriend, they have a reason to be so much more toxic and rude towards you without him defending you the way a boyfriend would.

“Maybe I should leave-“ You whisper to only him, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Sunghoon shakes his head. “No, let me return the favor- plus, you wanted to learn bedwars. I’ll teach you the ropes.” His reassuring words make you feel more inclined to stay, not feeling as negative and embarrassed as before. He returns his attention to the chat after uncovering his mic, seeing some of his friends have seen the special title for today’s stream and joined.

“Hi Riki, Hee, Jay. Where’s Jake?” You peer over to see their verified badges with special colors appear, and Sunghoon reads their comments out loud. “Okay- enough of that. I’ll be teaching her how to play, now, so I might not be checking chat. As always, please be nice, and seeing as all my friends are in chat, there are even more mods available to ban you guys.” His voice is stern, but you can tell how much Sunghoon hates being mean to his fans.

simjake: ‘hi y/n please kick his ass so he’ll stfu.’

Sunghoon catches he quicker than you do, reading it with widened eyes. “Please kick his ass so he’ll shut the fuck up? Dude, If we’re on fortnite tonight, you’re last choice for squads.”

“But you can’t even play, Sunghoon.” You point out, and he frowns- trying his best to pretend that a kid on a bike wasn’t the whole reason he’s going bankrupt.

“I’m learning how to use it with the cast.”

“Don’t doctors tell you to literally not use it so it heals faster?” And he shrugs. Sunghoon’s arm really isn’t healing anytime soon, even if he swears it is.

“Well- anyways.” He uses his good arm to pull up the running tab for Minecraft, his avatar already in an empty lobby for you to practice. “Y/N is going to learn bedwars!”

Your face falls, and you look over to Sunghoon in horror. “I thought we were going to learn first. Without the stream.

He shakes his head with a half shrug, and moves his mouse around to make sure it’s still working like how he needs it to. “I think chat will find it funny to watch.”

You straighten up with determination and tell him to scoot over so you can place your hands on and familiarize yourself with the keyboard.

“Try the spacebar,” Sunghoon says with pride, and you laugh at how nerdy it sounds coming from him. After clicking the key a few times, and experimentally typing in the MInecraft chat, he begins to explain how to play, and you do your best to listen to him as he instructs you. “You know how to play, yes?” And your slight experience whenever you come to play on Sunoo’s set-up comes in handy for basic things like managing the game controls.

His 20k viewers all noticed a few things that neither of you picked up- both too engrossed in learning how to bridge without falling off, but also trying to fight and defend from other players.

They noticed how you liked to poke fun at Sunghoon sometimes- similar to your Youtube video where you’d make small but funny digs, and Sunghoon would go along with it. Everyone noticed how he was gently reassuring you with a hand on your shoulder or his fingers intertwining with yours when you stood up in frustration to pull it back to the mouse. Sunghoon here wasn’t the same flirty streamer who read his chat, called people his wife, or yelled at his friends (all in good fun!) when they lost match point; he was doting, and calm, with eye-crinkling smiles and praises everytime you bridged enough blocks to the other side. And after a bit more than an hour, you became tired of falling off the cliff from dynamite, or running out of golden apples to eat when you were running away- all to Sunghoon’s amusement.

You bid farewell to his chat, who all had fun watching you get excited while playing. For the gamers who watched Sunghoon’s channel, you le gameplay and reactions reminded them of the excitement it felt to play for the first time, and the problems they used to encounter trying to get better.

Sunghoon returns, with his chin resting on his good hand was he lazily reads chat. “He’s so in love.” He reads, scoffing. “Absolutely not, me and her are just friends. I’d do it for anyone.”

‘he’s so whipped’ simjake: ‘simphoon’ ‘someone get this man a gf’ heeonmic: ‘SIMPHOON BYEEE’

For the rest of his live, Sunghoon practices playing, blaming you offhandedly for cursing his keyboard and it was the reason why he was doing so bad. “Stop bothering ____ with us dating. Honestly she probably doesn’t even want a boyfriend.”

And how he was wrong.

prev. | ml. | next.

REN SAYS... i am my own writer. yes, i included sunghoon's selfie with biceps even though technically it wasn't needed because my brain needs it to be canon...

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[thegreatestsandwich]

I was watching endgame the other day and I was wondering how would Namor react if he witnessed his s/o dissapearing in front of his eyes? Can you add a lot of angst? I really want to be destroyed :)

I reached and you were gone (Namor x f!reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Namor x F!reader

Word count: 544 words

Summary: Thanos's snap not only affected the surface-dwellers.

Warning: Angst because Infinity War and Endgame destroyed me to the core

A/N: I went to see black panther again and let me tell you! I fell in love with him again and I'm not ashamed

Coments, Reblogs and Asks are happily received! I love to read your lovely coments :)

It started with an abrupt wakening and sweat covering your body. You didn’t knew what was happening, your body felt strange, like something wanting to claw its way out of your body with choking desperation. But you couldn’t place what was wrong.

You tried to put it away from your mind as today was an important day, you were designated by the elder to bring K'uk'ulkan his food for the week, it was a great honor, something you never thought you would be in charge of.

It felt good to believe that the elder see you as capable enough for this duty, so when they gave you the basket full of different kind of fruits and vegetables, you knew you couldn’t mess up. You were confident.

But that strange feeling was still inside of you, deep, deep down, there it was, that strange electricity that wanted to wash over your body with something, something you still couldn’t place.

You shook your head, trying to bring yourself back into reality.

It was quiet in his room, you noticed him painting on one of his murals, you couldn’t help but smile at his art. You carefully walked into the room, trying your best to not disturb his peace, you knew how stressful he has been after the several attacks the surface-dwellers had been made to each other, all of you could feel the vibration of the waters with their wars.

You stumbled with your next step making you frown so you stopped.

“Je'el u páajtal a p'atik te'elo'.” You can leave it there. He told you without taking a glance at you, his fingers taking a bit more of paint before touching the wall. “Níib óolal.” Thank you.

You carefully place the basket on the floor, you wiped your forehead, your hand coming away slick with sweat and you began wondering why your body was betraying you this way. This wasn’t the first time you had asked to bring something to K'uk'ulkan, why were you acting this way? You tried to move but you couldn’t the sensation was becoming stronger, you lifted your hands to your face when the numbness was starting to affected them. That’s when you saw it.

You gasped, tripping on the basked and falling to the floor. Namor quickly turned around, his dark eyes watching you crawling back towards one of the walls, he stood up quickly and made his way towards you.

His hands grabbed your arms, trying to keep you in focus. “Ba'ax le jéelo'?” What is it. Namor’s eyes searched yours and found only confusion. “(Y/N) t'aan tin wéetel.” Talk to me. He could see the fear on your eyes, your hands quickly grabbing his arms and he felt you shake in fear.

You opened your mouth to answer him but the only thing that came out was his name, your eyes becoming unfocused before everything turning to black.

Namor’s eyes widened when you slowly disappearing in a pile of dust, his breath quickened as he stood up, turning around his cave, trying to find you but he was completely alone. He felt a soft breeze and his eyes saw how the dust that covered his floor softly dispered.

You were gone.

And he didn't know what to do.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Assistant 11

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, cheating, creep behaviour, violence, anger. These warnings are not exhaustive.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As an assistant at the Daily Planet, you’re rarely noticed. Until you are.

Characters: Clark Kent

Note: I expect we're near the endgame now.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Lord Farquaad loves unnecessary vowels. Take care. 💖

🖊🖊🖊

Clark lands with an impact that makes your skull rattle. Your ears ring as the world around you smears. He lets you go and you stumble away. He keeps you off balance as he grabs you again, spinning you as you whimper helplessly.

He rips your hoodie down your arms, tugging it free only to use the sleeve to restrain your wrists. He keeps you facing away from him, forcing you to your knees as he shoves his knee into your back. He puts you on your stomach and bends your legs up, securing your feet with the other sleeve so you’re facedown in the dirt.

You heave as your tears spring out unchecked. He parts from you, his soles mulching the dirt as your sobs echo. You squirm until you fall onto your side, bound helpless as you let your horror mount to frantic screams.

“Help! Someone!”

He hushes you and bends to grip your jaw. You quiet, choking on your voice as you look past him. Canopies of leaves ripple above him, you smell water nearby, a freshness that lends a coolness to the air. He snarls and drags you across the ground, placing you against the brush along the jutting rock wall.

“Scream all you want. No one out here.”

“Please, Clark, please,” you plead through pathetic babbles, “I didn’t–why– why did you– Richard—”

“You promised you loved me. That you would never hurt me–”

“I was scared–”

“You lied to me,” he growls as he paces back and forth, “you betrayed me!”

“No, no, I was just afraid. I was afraid you’d hurt me, Clark, honey, I swear–”

“Hurt you?”

“You’re married,” you whimper, “I knew we could never be together–”

“I know.” He grits out as he stops to face you, his eyes glowing eerie crimson, “you know. Lois is dead. This was our chance and you ran–”

“Dead? Clark–”

“Stop lying,” he barks, “I can hear your fucking heart amp up every time you do. So stop.”

You sniffle and shudder in the dirt. Prickly vines poke at you as you give in to the futility. You’re not getting away this time. Your lashes are webbed with tears, adding a soft glare to your vision. You look up at Clark and pout.

“I can be better… please,” you beg. “What are you going to do to me?”

He raises his chin and stares up at the sun. You murmur and curl your fingers into your palm. You wait in the deafening silence of the moment. The chitter of birds and scramble of critters is dulled by your dread.

“Make you better,” he says as he spins to face the sprawl of trees.

He clutches his fists tight and a sudden rush of air blows over you as he zips up into the sky. It feels as if the earth lurches beneath the force of his departure. You fall back against the rock wall, leaning your elbow on it as you gape up after him.

“SOMEONE!” You screech, even as you know he’s right, that no one will hear, “SOMEONE PLEASEEEEEEEE!”

🖊

Your lungs burn and your throat turns raw. You have nothing left. Your fruitless screams die as you lay in the dirt, wriggling only a few inches this way or that. Twigs and pebbles jab through your clothing and the dewy patches of grass stain the fabric. 

This is it. This is the end. The sheen of disbelief slowly fades. That denial that it couldn’t be real. You are just an intern and he is just a journalist. A lonely man looking for company where he shouldn’t. No, he is a murderer. You witnessed it. You’ve seen the rage in him, you felt it, the insatiability that cannot be denied.

More than that, he is inhuman. He is something else. He is lauded as a superhero yet lurks like a villain behind the mask of Clark Kent.

You quiver and let out a deep heave. Breathless, exhausted, defeated. You let your head rest on the ground as the warmth of the sun pools over you through a gap in the branches above.

Sweat beads over your forehead and dampens your cheeks. It gathers beneath your clothing and trickles along your neck and back. You languish there in the beating of the summer heat and wait. For what comes next. For the inevitable.

As resignation sets in, your fate doesn’t seem so scary. Death is a finality. It is an end. It means that you will be free, even if that freedom is nothingness. There is relief in knowing that those weeks of torture have come to a head. You’ve met the climax and now you’re in the falling action, plummeting towards the finale.

A gust sweeps over you and the earth shakes. You let out a yipe at the flash of colour and the clatter left behind. In a second, he is gone again, whooshing up into the expanse as the din of the forest resumes. You look over at the large ax leaning against the cliffside, a hand saw beside it, and few other tools you can’t place. What?

He returns, surprising you again. The clunk of a heavy chest hits the dirt. You flinch and try to turn your body. The effort leaves you hollow as you manage to roll against the jutting rock wall. 

Several more hurtling trips and Clark finally stands still, curls mussed from the excess but otherwise unshaken by his efforts. He grabs the ax as you stare at the wrapped packages of insulation, the bucket of plaster, and litany of materials. It can’t be–

He approaches a tree and swings the ax. He cuts through the trunk with a single strike. He lifts the gargantuan tree with a single arm and tosses it behind him. It bounces and rolls to a stop on the soft ground. He does it again, and again, and again. He clears at least a dozen trees without a glance or word in your direction.

You linger in stupefied silence. He approaches the pile of trees and pulls one out. He is little more than a blur as he works at breaking them down into neat planks. This has to be a nightmare. The distortion, the unreality of the moment can’t be true.

You gulp and lower your head. It makes you dizzy to watch him. You listen to the furor of his labour. The zip of the saw, the crack of the ax, and the rhythm of a hammer. When you peek over again, vision hazy with the beaming heat of the sun, there is a foundation built.

You shudder and blow out through your dry lips. You try to wet your mouth but your tongue is arid. You will against the ground, crushing your shoulder as you clench and unclench your fists.

You’re stunned by a sudden grip on your jaw that brings your head up. You nearly choke as Clark puts a bottle to your lips and pours water into your mouth. Your body gulps it down greedily as your thoughts remain disjointed and distorted.

He backs up and pulls the stump of a log over to sit across from you. He drains the last of the water and brings forward a paper bag. He doesn’t say a word as he reaches inside and takes out a granola bar. He wraps it and leans forward to offer it to you.

You stare at him. He presses it to your lips. You turn your face away.

“Eat,” he demands.

You sniff and push your head back against the side of the cliff, “why are you doing this?”

He sighs and retracts his arm. He breaks off a chunk of the bar. He doesn’t answer you.

“Clark, what are you doing?” You croak.

He gets off the log and comes closer, nearly straddling you as he drops onto his knees. He grabs your skull, turning your head straight, and forces the granola into your mouth. You murmur as he holds your jaw in place and your stare up at him with wide eyes.

“Eat.”

You don’t resist. You chew and swallow. He takes another piece and jams it through your lips; he does it again and again until the wrapper is empty. He backs up and perches again on the log.

You watch him as he looks over at his work so far. A whole wall built. It's not hard to guess at the goal, but you don’t understand why. Why doesn’t he just kill you? Like Lois. Like Richard.

“I’m building us a home,” he says as he drops his head into his hands and scratches along his hairlines, “just you and me.”

He sits up and combs his hair back. He stands and dusts off his palms. He stretches and peels off his shirt, revealing his broad chest and thickly muscled stomach. The hair along his torso speckles with his sweat.

“It must be done by nightfall,” he declares as he marches away.

You turn your attention back to the endless forest. You stare into the daunting sprawl and deflate. It isn’t a home he’s building, it’s a prison.

🖊

The house is complete. Clark carries you through the front door and puts you against the wall, just beneath the window. The interior is barren. No furniture, only a gaping fireplace and a small hoop anchored in the floor.

He unties you and stands over you, watching you as you sit up. Your shoulders and knees throb from being locked the whole day. He bends and pulls your left leg straight, he closes a metal cuff around your ankle and pushes a bolt into place. You kick your foot in fright as he lets it go and a chain clanks loudly as he lets it unfurl.

He attaches the other end to the loop in the floor. You whine and get to your knees.

“Clark, please, what are you doing?”

“I can’t trust you,” he sneers, “it’s for your own good…” he stands and looks above you, to the window, “you would only get lost out there.”

“No, please, you can trust me–”

He raises his hand and you quiet. You sit back on your heels and clasp your hands together. He shakes his head and waves you off, striding away without another word. He goes through the open door as you focus on the chain, touching the links in dread.

He returns and unzips a sleeping bag, spreading it over the floor. He leaves again, coming back with pillows and another blanket. He backs up, hands on his hips and looks over the makeshift set up.

“Tomorrow I will find a bed. Other things,” he turns and approaches the fireplace, resting his hand on the mantle above, “I will start a fire for the night. It’ll be cold soon.”

You want to scream. You want to wail. You want to call him a monster, tell him that he’s insane. But you know that won’t make this any better. You let go of the chain and raise yourself on your knees. You crawl on the blankets and make yourself small as you sit against the pillows.

“Thank you, Clark,” you squeak as you pull off your shoes and place them to the side.

He keeps his back to you, bowing his head as he sighs. Slowly, he shifts and glances over his shoulder. His eyes meet yours and he drags his hand off the mantle. He faces you as you carefully recline.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he says grimly, “but it has to be like this. Just for now.”

“I know,” you say as you wince and rub your shoulder.

He sniffs and reluctantly turns away. His steps are lighter as he goes back through the door, returning with an armful of split logs. He stacks them by the fireplace before he works at starting a fire. You listen to his efforts and close your eyes. Only to hide, not to sleep.

The scent of the fire fills the cabin and he pulls the door shut. He nears and his shadow looms over you. He tugs on the blanket as he climbs down next to you and swoops it over you as he wraps an arm over your middle. He draws you closer, his breath fanning across your hair.

“I know you’re scared but one day, you’ll see,” he rumbles as he bends his arm, fondling your chest. Your stomach knots as he presses his pelvis flush to you, “I saved you… like you saved me.” 

His hand trails down and you hold your breath. His fingertips touch the top of your jeans and he pauses. He brushes his arm back up and embraces you again.

“Not tonight,” he resigns glumly, “I don’t forgive you yet.”

[albatmobile]

romance and return policies pt. 6

final part of this ask!

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] || ao3

𓅪 Rated: E | 11.1k includes: alternate universe no powers, modern au, eventual polyamory, eventual relationships, eventual smut, gamestop au, spitroasting, orgy, oral, dp, fingering, bdsm, rope play, bondage, creampie, squirting, multiple orgasms, aftercare, orgasm control, strap on, alien dildos, xbox controller as a vibrator, pillow fight

𓅪 established roy harper x koriand'r eventual: jason todd x reader, Roy Harper x reader, koriand'r x reader endgame: Jason Todd x reader x Roy Harper x koriand'r

A few days after your joyride into town, all three of them come to annoy you at work. You don’t even bother with menus as you ring in their order before they can even sit down.

“So, if you’re all here, who’s running GameStop?” you joke.

It’s an unfortunate skill you have, making Roy spit liquid out of places that liquid shouldn’t. This is another prime example of the phenomenon. He loses it, choking out the sip of water he’d been taking mere inches away from your uniform. You and Jason wear similar looks of disgust, but quickly join in on Kori and Roy’s rambunctious laughter. 

Pam stops by, giving everyone at the table a thorny glare. She’s warned you many times that she doesn’t like your friends coming in and loitering, but you don’t give a fuck. She has you working not doubles but triples and somehow always misplaces your check, so getting paid takes twice as long. Right now, you’re the only one doing inventory and, for some god awful reason, the only person cleaning the toilets. Anytime you bring any of this up to her, she just reminds you that your restraining order is keeping away one of her best clients.

The fucking cunt.

When you tell them this much, Jason and Roy share a look.

Finally, Roy speaks, “It’s really time you join our cult, gorgeous.”

“Is that why you guys all came in?” you ask with a snort. “Is this a GameStop intervention?”

“Of sorts,” Jason starts. His deep voice leaves you to flush. 

“ORDER UP!”

You’re shocked out of your stupor and quickly back away from the table with a sheepish smile. You return with their food and quickly get swept up into the random 10 AM rush. 

Soon, you’re packing them up, wishing they could stay longer. The last thing you need right now is for Pam to assign you to empty out the grease trap, though, so you suppose it’s all for the best. 

You haven’t yet taken your break, so you follow the trio out to the parking lot, giggling with Kori over her newest Animal Crossing villager. Roy has his arm around her tan waist, with his knuckles brushing up against your hips with every step. You don’t realize you’re biting at your lower lip until Jason emulates Roy and wraps his muscular arm around your waist.

Your mouth drops, then quickly shuts, but not before he can notice. 

Jason chuckles quietly, squeezing you closer against his side as the four of you come to a halt in front of Roy’s Mustang and Jason’s bike, though not before his assured gait can falter.

You eye the raven-haired man curiously, noticing how antsy he seems. “What’s up?” you finally ask. Does he have to shit or something?

“Nothing,” he says, running a sharp hand through his dark hair as he focuses back in on Kori’s Animal Crossing rant.

You raise a dubious brow but allow him to lift you onto the hood of Roy’s red coupe. Roy easily jumps up beside you, with Kori stepping inside his spread legs to continue the tour of her island. Meanwhile, Jason looks off toward Main Street with a distant look behind his emerald eyes.

You watch as Jason and Roy share another look before you finally bite.

“I feel like I’m missing something,” you say, noticing how all three look guilty. You’re even more confused now. “What?” Kori looks at Roy, who looks at Jason, who purposefully avoids your gaze. “What!?”you ask again.

Roy runs a loose hand through his fiery locks as if to say you’re not going to get any answers from him. Instead, you turn to Jason, who’s shoved his hands deep in his pockets.

“S’just that,” Jaosn kicks at the pavement, ducking his head as he does so before meeting your gaze head on, “we came in to ask if you’d want to go on a double date tonight.”

Your eyes widen, not missing the implication that you’d be Jason’s date and that the four of you’d all probably end up fucking again. You already know your answer is yes, but you don’t want to seem too eager, god forbid.

“Yeah, I can do that.” 

You definitely don’t mind that this is steadily becoming a thing.

“Cool,” he says with a small smile that Roy’s wolfish grin easily dwarfs.

“We are on for tonight, then?” Kori asks you sweetly. She sets her Switch down next to Roy’s thigh on the hood to take your hands into her large ones.

“Yeah,” you reply with a bashful nod, squeezing her hands lightly as you do so.

She beams, squealing as she draws you into a suffocating hug, then smooshes Jason in Roy in as well. 

“Pick you up after your shift?” Roy asks, smirk still evident on his freckled cheeks. “Your place?”

“Yeah,” you look at Jason, noticing his blush is as hot as yours feels. “Sounds good.”

🎮🎮🎮🎮

At home, you’re freaking out.

What the fuck are you supposed to wear? None of them had mentioned any plans and you’d been too starstruck to ask for more details. This is exactly when Kori texts you to ask if she can come over and get ready with you. Butterflies fill your stomach as you agree.

Though you’d all fucked, this felt so much more intimate like you could somehow fuck everything up with this date alone. You really like all of them, but you don’t know necessarily where you all stand. Are you dating Jason and Kori and Roy are dating and sometimes the four of you fuck? Or did it go deeper? Were you all together?

Kori arrives minutes later, hands full of an abundance of colorful fabrics. “Hello, friend!” she greets you with a big smooch on the lips as you welcome her inside. 

It happens so fast that you don’t have time to reciprocate before she’s high-tailing it up to your room and throwing off her clothes. You gulp at the sight that greets you when you walk in.

“What’s up?” you ask, feeling anxiety seep over you. The pressure of the date, coupled with all the unknowns leaves you reeling. Now Kori’s here and you don’t even have the ability to freak out in peace. No, you have to pull it together before she notices-

“Are you alright?”

Shit.

You gulp as she approaches you. She bends down so she can cup your face in gentle concern.

“Just really nervous,” you manage to supply. Your eyes search her neon ones for salvation, something she easily grants.

“I am nervous as well,” the way she says your name makes you weak in the knees. Luckily, she’s there to support you. She guides you to the bed where all your vetoed outfits have landed and helps you to sit. 

“I don’t want to mess anything up,” you confess.

“You couldn’t,” she assures you, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “We will have the best time,” she beams, taking your hands within her own to bounce them, “I promise.”

You somehow believe her and allow your anxiety to slowly ebb. 

“Where are we even going, anyway?”

She gasps in excitement, “Jason has planned a picnic!”

“For the meteor shower?” You remember him mentioning it a few days ago but hadn’t realized it would be tonight.

Kori nods, getting up to go through the pile of your clothes.  “I think this would look lovely on you. I know they’ll both like it, too,” she adds with a genuine smile.

You blush, ducking your head before she can see, but it’s too late.

She crawls across the bed toward you with a black, tight cotton dress. It’s long sleeve which will keep you warm when the sun goes down, yet the front is low-cut enough to show off some serious cleavage. It’s perfect.

You take the dress from her outstretched form, sighing when her warm forehead rests against your own. She has her eyes closed, so all you can see are her long, red lashes splayed out across her sun-kissed skin. 

God, she’s fucking perfect. 

You allow your eyes to close, eyelashes tickling against hers as you melt against her.

All worries are expelled as her acrylics rake up and down your back, engraving your skin with her want. Her swollen lips make quick work of the rest of your anxieties as she lays you down with all the assurance in the world. You know everything’s going to be all right; she makes sure of it.

By the time the two of you are dressed, your legs are shaking, though not from any nerves.

She’s wearing jeans and a cropped hoodie that shows off the slightest sliver of her toned stomach as bounds down your steps toward your dates. Both men step out of the coupe as soon as they see the two of you approaching to greet you. 

Kori’s in front of you, so they greet her first. Pulling her in for a tight hug as you finish locking the door. 

Your nerves settle as a low static across your movements once you hear their chatter and you accidentally drop your keys. Before you can even bend down, Jason bounds your way to pick them up for you, sending you back to the night of your first date.

He holds the keys, taking your hands in his as he steps back to let you in. “You look incredible,” he says.

You smile, feeling the tell-tale sear of a blush staining across your cheeks when he leans in to give you a chaste kiss. You deepen it, but only slightly. Roy wolf-whistles, effectively breaking the two of you apart. 

Jason leads you over to him where the redhead immediately pulls you against his firm chest. You can’t help but laugh at his goofy grin as he runs his freckled hands up and down your curves in appreciation. He bites his lip as if to prevent himself from doing… well, you don’t exactly what goes on in his perverted mind, but you know he’s obviously thinking about something.

Just like last time, the four of you pile into the car, racing through the desolate desert streets just as the sun threatens to completely vacate the sky. Stars have begun to twinkle in the leaking indigo of the sky as you rev off further into the dying embers of the landscape.

“Jay and Star picked this place out for us, babe,” Roy says as he finally pulls off the road. “It looks insane, trust me.”

You and Kori bounce in their laps as you traverse the rocky terrain closer and closer to the mountains on the horizon. You continue to sing along to the radio with them until you can no longer ignore your impending thoughts. 

You eye the desolate landscape skeptically. “Please tell me you guys aren’t taking me out here to murder me.”

You’re currently in the middle of nowhere and severely doubt that anyone would be able to find any of you out here this far off the road. Where are they even taking you, anyway? It’s all desert, no matter how far out you drive.

Finally, Roy jams on the brakes, twisting the wheel as he does so in a way that spins the car around with a screech. The Mustang rocks back and forth from the momentum as it settles into park right next to a group of desert trees. You’ve got a white-knuckled grip on Roy’s shoulder and the door, hating the way he throws his head back and laughs so effortlessly at your plight. Kori, on the other hand, giggles in delight at his blatant peacocking. 

The men help you and Kori out of the car before leading you over to the grassy knoll under the trees that offers a picture perfect view of the gleaming night sky.

A huge, fluffy blanket’s been laid out as a base, with tons of soft pillows littering the edge of it. Tiny lanterns with fake tea lights have been scattered across the area, casting an intimate glow over the whole setup. 

“It’s beautiful,” you say, awestruck as you turn back around to face them. “Thank you,” you breathe as you draw them all in for a group hug. 

You still don’t know if this is a date for you and Jason with Kori and Roy or if it’s for all of you. What you do know is that it’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for you.

“Took forever to find a good spot to watch the shower tonight,” Jason starts as he pulls out a large picnic basket from the trunk. Once he’s go everything, he takes your hand in his and leading you over to the blanket. “Plus, Kori wanted trees. Felt like a goddamned safari looking for this spot.”

You laugh, letting him lead you over to where Kori’s propped up on the blanket under a tree. 

She adjusts the pillows as you near, moving one behind her back and the trunk before clearing room for you. “Do you like it?” she asks, eagerly awaiting your response.

Jason and Roy guide you down to sit between her legs as they finish spreading out the food.

The way she looks with the moonlight melting across her tan skin skin, you can’t image a better location.

“Everything’s perfect,” you answer with a sheepish smile, ducking your head before she can see your blush.

Kori begins running her acrylics through your hair, softly humming something you can’t quite make out. The vibrations send shivers of happiness across your skin. 

She’s so beautiful.

“What did you end up making for us, Jason?” Kori asks, stirring you from your daydreams of her.

“You cooked?” you ask.

He’d mentioned to you that he liked to cook before, saying the next date, he’d have to make you something. You guess he’s stuck true to his word.

He’s so perfect.

“Roy helped, too, I guess,” he says. The raven shrugs nonchalantly, though his raging blush tells you everything you need to know.

“You did?” the redhead throws a wink your way at your question.

He’s so captivating.

You’re falling for them. Falling hard.

You’re entirely enamored with each and every one of them.

“If giving the chef a blowie counts, then yeah,” he jokes, but there’s an obvious anxious edge to it. Both he and Jason seem to gauge your reaction.

“Oh?” is all you manage.

Truthfully, you don’t mind at all. You feel no jealousy in the slightest, especially considering his girlfriend had just swallowed your come not even 30 minutes ago.

“We had our own intimacy as well,” Kori suddenly pipes up.

Both men’s ears perk up at Kori’s statement.

“Oh, worm?” Roy asks, sounding entirely surprised.

“Worm indeed,” you respond with a sheepish nod. Their attention gets to be too much and you seek refuge by starting down at the patterned blanket you’re all sitting on. You feel their eyes remain on you and decide to take a leap of faith. With a sigh, you ask, “What are we?”

Cue Roy’s signature spit take.

Jason is his unamused target, it seems. His button-up is now covered in grape soda, leaving him no choice but to remove it. You can’t help but stare, something he notices with a loose hand through his hair. He looks away shyly, but it only spurs you into action. 

You caress his jaw, drawing his attention back your way as you search his eyes for an answer.

Surprisingly, it’s Roy who supplies you with one.

“I- we, want this situation between us,” Roy gestures between himself and Kori, then between Jason and you, “to be… more permanent.” At this, Roy turns to Kori, who nods earnestly in agreement. 

“All of you?” you question in astonishment. You can hardly believe this is all actually happening. 

So, it hadn’t all just been a one-off event, then.

You can’t stop the beaming grin that spreads across your face.

“If that’s what you’d want, too,” Jason’s gentle voice soothes the butterflies you feel thrashing around your stomach.

You attempt to keep them waiting some, not wanting to seem too desperate, but you can’t help how your response spills out of you.

“Yes,” you breathe. “I’d like that a lot.”

It’s as if a dam’s broke.

The four of you take turns kissing each other, feeling out how it feels to just be. 

To be here, to be with them. It’s all perfect.

The chasteness of your movements soon lose their tentative nature, becoming more hasty, edging deeper as you take turns melding against their bodies.

To further the officialness, Kori strips your dress off of you, leaving you in your black thong in front of all of you dates to see.

“Oh, shit,” Roy groans in appreciation. He bites at his lower lip, smirking Jason’s way before nodding to Kori.

“I told you they’d like it,” she whispers to you, wasting no time in pulling off her jeans. It’s not enough, though. You need to see more of her. 

You gently kiss her, heads bobbing in perfect time with each other’s tantalizing movements. Your hands slowly slip into her bra, squeezing gently around her lofty breasts before coaxing them out of her bra and into the chilly night air. She pulls away with a light moan, lifting her cropped hoodie for you to get a good look at what’s been haunting your wet dreams.

You know exactly what you want. You shimmy backward, positioning yourself between her long, tanned legs. You want to hear how much she needs you.

“You want me to eat your pussy? It’s only fair I return the favor,” you tease lightly as you nuzzle into her juicy cunt. “Right, Kor?” You look up at her from where your face is pressed against her panties. Her sweet smell permeates the fabric as you tease your tongue against it, creating a wet spot that her arousal easily doubles.

She gasps and it’s then that you hear the tell-tale sign of zippers from behind the two of you. She looks starstruck, giving an all new meaning to her nickname.

“Please,” comes her breathless plea.

You finally push past her panties to taste her slick want, reveling in how she squirms against your hold on her hips. 

You’re on your knees, trapped arching between Kori’s long legs, when you hear Jason clear his throat. You give one long lick up Kori’s twitching cunt before turning around with her slick dribbling down onto your chin to where Jason and Roy have sidled up behind you.

Roy rubs his hands together greedily with a wicked glint behind his verdant eyes as he crawls closer to you, “Can we touch you, beautiful?” he asks you, tilting your chin up as he awaits your answer. 

When you nod, he easily descends upon your lips, placing a sure hand behind your head as he deepens the kiss into something absolutely filthy. As soon as you break apart, you draw Jason in for a wet kiss of his own. You get lost in his touch, only coming back to the moment when Roy groans as he fists himself to the erotic sight splayed out in front of him.

Kori guides you back to where you’ve pushed her underwear aside. You allow her acrylics to tangle in your locks as she forces your head back down against her arching hips. This time, when you bend down you spread your thighs even wider to grant Jason and Roy better access as you makeout with Kori’s perfect pussy.

“Shit,” Jason curses as his rough hands travel up the globes of your ass. All the while, Roy’s smoother ones trail up your spread, inner thighs.

Kori gasps as you flick at her clit, then quickly move to tease her entrance with the tip of your tongue. You flatten your tongue, dragging it across her length and repeat the motion until she whines for you to stop. You slurp the combination of drool and slick as you pull away with a pussy-drunk smile. She meets it with a panting, dazed one and removes her hand from your hair to push her own out of her eyes.

“Ah!” you exclaim, startling forward into Kori’s tits as Roy finally breeches your entrance with his index finger. 

“Eat our girl out, Jay.” Roy motions for Jason to lie down under your spread form to get a better angle. You can’t deny that the new nickname drives you crazy in the best possible way. “Show her she’s ours,” the redhead practically growls.

Before he follows Roy’s commands, however, Jason draws the redhead in for a teeth-clashing kiss. He pushes Roy’s cap up to get a better angle before discarding the offending article altogether.

Jason’s calloused hands draw another moan out of you as they assuredly grip your hips to keep you in place while he unleashes teasing licks against your pussy. Meanwhile, Roy remains on his knees so he can slowly push his thick finger into your tight heat. You exhale shakily as you back against his taunting, forcing his knuckle to finally sink inside of you with a whimper of relief.

Kori draws you back to her. You’d know that look anywhere- she’s ready to come.

“I want you,” her breath hitches around your name while your tongue steals the rest of her coherent words until she’s a withering mess under your touch. 

Her pornstar-worthy moans ring out across the landscape like a beautiful symphony. Kori’s wanton noises coupled with the wet whines you’re unleashing against her folds until the two of you create the lewdest duet this desert has ever heard. 

Roy continues to finger you while spreading your ass and positioning himself so he can eat you out from behind at the same time as Jason does from underneath your splayed thighs. The two men seem to be in competition of who can make you moan loudest while also testing what leaves you withering under their touch.

“Jay,” Roy’s deep voice sends vibrations across your sensitive pussy. 

You halt in your ministrations on Kori to turn your head and watch as Roy slurps your arousal into his mouth. At the contact, you arch with a breathless moan  that soon breaks as you watch Roy duck over Jason’s mouth to spit your slick into Jason’s expectant mouth.

Your thighs shake, wanting to close before you can come, but Jason won’t allow it.

Kori rubs at her clit, easily becoming distracted by the salacious scene unfolding in front of her until you once again descend upon her wet folds. She arches against the tree as she begs you for release, tugging at your hair as she draws closer and closer to the edge.

Panting, she draws you against her lips for a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss. 

“Fuck, Kori,” you groan against her plump lips, feeling your own impending orgasm drawing near. “You’re so fucking hot, I-”

She cuts off your rambling with another wet kiss. Her tongue flicks out to tease yours before sucking it into her mouth with a lewd slurp. Your hand works alongside hers to leave her shaking and whimpering against your lips as she comes undone by your hand. You smack her cunt, eating the groan she feeds into your open mouth as she rides it out.

You don’t have time to take pride in the panting state you’ve left her in before Jason and Roy threaten to leave you in one of your own.

Kori continues to smear her lip gloss across your puffy lips and moves in tandem with Jason to flick at your nipples. It’s when she grabs your ass from where she sits (yes, she’s really still that tall) to spread it for your men.

“Absolute fucking slut,” Roy grumbles against your aching cunt. “Such a good girl, baby.” You can’t help but whimper in response, feeling your body tense with anticipation of your building orgasm. “Jason, I think she wants to come,” Roy teases in a dark tone.

“You want to come?”

You nod desperately at Jason’s question, realizing too late that he can’t see you. The only response he needs is your desperate cry as both men double down on your dripping pussy. The sensation leaves you helplessly bucking against Roy’s fingers as they curl and squelch inside you for relief.

Kori eats your moans as they echo against your messy tangling of lips and tongues.

Jason’s fingers take over for Roy as he stands and thrusts his throbbing cock in the middle of your sapphic kiss. You eye the redheads with half-lidded eyes as you share Roy’s cock with your girlfriend. God, it feels so nice to say. After only a few moments in your mouth, Roy pulls out and releases across Kori’s and your expectant tongues.

“So fucking good to me,” Roy pants as he splatters the last of his come across your faces with a shaky groan. “Best fucking orgasm ever, swear it,” he says as he encases his lips around yours, swapping his come between your mouths before moving to Kori to do the same.

Jason moves out from under you, offering your knees relief as he lays you back against Kori’s stomach to fuck into you.

It’s a slow and cruel pace, only made crueler by how Roy and Kori touch you like they already know where you want to be touched. Each redhead takes a side, Roy sucking your tit into his mouth while Kori’s mouth draws you in for a kiss. Her acrylics tickle at your other erect nipples until you’re arching off of her and into Jason’s thrusts.

“Just like that,” Jason growls your name. “You’re so fucking tight.”

It’s when the two redheads move their attention down to your clit that you know you’re fucked. Roy spreads your folds with two fingers, watching as intensely as Jason does as his girthy cock disappears in and out of your squelching hole.

“Fuck- please,” you whimper. “I need to come, baby-” Without warning, you arch off of Kori. Neither she nor Roy stop their jerks against your clit as you slip off Jason’s dick with a gush of liquid. You’re wriggling in Kori and Roy’s arms as Jason releases across your expanding and retracting stomach as you pant out the remnants of your orgasm. 

“Did she just squirt on you, Jay?”

Jason snorts, looking down at his dripping cock, “Think so, Harper.” His deep voice sends waves of aftershock across your body while his steady hands draw you against his naked chest for a toe-curling kiss.

By the time you’ve all come down from the high, you realize the meteors have already begun streaming across the night sky, disappearing off behind the darkened valleys that lie ahead.

🎮🎮🎮🎮

You didn’t want to go home after the shower. There was no pressure to stay over, but you wanted to. You’re all official now and you want to make it official over and over again.

That’s how you ended up in their bed, facing Kori on your knees as Roy pounds into her in the same position Jason has you in. With Kori’s great height, the width of the bed is entirely too short, meaning you’re panting against her neck as she leaves bruising kisses against your delicate collarbone. 

With one hand on the bed, your other hand tangles in her fiery hair. She gasps into your mouth, grasping her free hand against your shoulder before slowly moving it lower. She caresses your tits as they bounce from Jason’s unforgiving teasing. He continues to draw desperate mewls from you as he fucks you with just the tip until your arousal visibly drips from your cunt onto the curve of his erection.

“Jay,” Roy breathes as he leans across Kori’s back to makeout with you. His hips continue shallowly snapping into Kori’s heat all the while. “Stop teasing her before I take over and give her what she really wants-” 

Before he can finish his statement, Jason pounds into you twice, leaving you reeling for more. Instead of giving it to you, he holds your hips steady to prevent you from bucking back against him.

“I want to try something,” Jason says suddenly. He pats gently at your side and gestures for you to mount Kori.

You don’t question it. You give her one more kiss before she flips from her knees onto her back so you can mount her. Meanwhile, you crawl across the mattress toward Roy who stands behind her. You make a show out of straddling Kori’s long torso, presenting your ass to Roy so that your ass is now flush against Roy’s hairy pelvis.

All three of you face Jason who’s kicked off his jeans completely. His wanton eyes take in the three of you darkly as he moves onto the middle of the mattress, precome leaking from his red-tipped cock.

“You want to watch me fuck them, Jay?” Roy asks, biting at his bottom lip as he greedily stares down at the two pussies in front of him. Roy always finds a way to render Jason speechless, this being one of those moments. “Alright,” he says easily. At this, Roy jiggles your ass, watching as the movement causes your clit to rub against Kori’s underneath you. Your moans ring out in unison, spurring movement from both men.

Before you can blink, Roy’s sinking inside you from behind, with Jason’s cock gagging you from the front. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when Kori’s delicate hands fondle your tits, licking teasingly at your nipples as you take both of their dicks at once.

Is this heaven?

You’ve never moaned so loud before, feeling all inhibitions slip away with every thrust into your fucked-out form.

This is the first time you’ve felt Roy’s dick in you and holy shit are you going to need it in you more.

“Sharing so nicely for us,” Roy grunts as he pulls out of your slick cunt only to thrust it into Kori’s ready pussy beneath yours. “Is this what you wanted, Jay? To see my dick in their pretty little pussies so you can get off-” The redhead cuts himself off with a carnal moan as your tight heat welcomes him back.

Roy rewards you with a sharp smack against each ass cheek followed by Kori’s soothing hands as she spreads your cheeks further for the redhead. Her long nails leave loving indents against your skin, only spurring your pleasure on further.

While Roy switches between your cunts, Jason alternates between your willing mouths.

“Shit,” Jason groans, pulling Roy in for a clashing kiss above you and Kori’s panting forms. “I don’t think I can last much longer,” Jason’s words come out shaky as he fucks deeper down your throat.

You’re slowly getting used to Kori’s intimate faces enough to realize she’s close. You know you feel your own orgasm threatening to spill onto Roy’s jerky movements, but you hold strong.

You and Kori edge each other by playing with each other's nipples and making out. Eventually, she rubs your clit and you attempt to return the favor, but your arm is too short to reach hers. She just chuckles lightly and whispers against your ear for you to enjoy. You swear you almost come right then and there.

It’s a chain reaction. 

Jason pulls out of your mouth with a lewd ‘pop’ and emulates how Roy had come at the picnic. His sticky want coats both Kori’s and your tongues and even manages to splatter across your eyelashes. With Roy fucking into Kori during this, she follows Jason with a sweet sigh as you and Roy send her over the edge with your touch.

With Jason and Kori out, Roy doubles down on you. His strong grip secures around your hair, snapping your head back so you can look at him with every jerky thrust he shudders into you.

“Fuck me, please,” you beg, moaning when Kori picks up the pace on your clit and Jason’s mouth moves to encircle your tits with bruising care. “Roy!”

“You take that shit,” he grits against his teeth as he makes you come undone like never before. “Just like that, baby. Good girl,” he praises you as you cry out in pleasure.

Your orgasm wracks over you in dizzying waves that leave you wrecked and begging for his come as you buck against his thick cock. He obliges with a noise you’ve never heard from him before. He pulls out, jerking his cock as his come spurts onto your twitching cunt. The sticky arousal oozes and drips down from your cunt onto Kori’s in an erotic display that leaves Roy’s cock twitching. 

Kori’s lithe fingers trickle down, using the thick substance as lube on your pulsating clit and ultimately sending you over the edge.

Once you come down from another orgasm, you fall into the pile of their spent bodies.

“This bed’s too small for this shit,” you complain half-heartedly. Jason and Roy snort in response while Kori merely draws you closer to her body.

“So, I think us bribing her with nerd shit worked, y’all,” Roy jokes. You can’t help the laughter that spills from you as they all tiredly high-five each other over your come-covered body before cuddling around you. “You know this means you have to come work with us now, right?” Roy nudges you gently in the butt. “This is officially a cult and we’re taking over the world one GameStop at a time, are you up for it, cadet?”

“Roy,” you turn your head to the side to face him, “are you trying to make me vote you out of the cuddle pile Survivor style?”

“Yeah, say my name just like that, gorgeous,” he purrs against your ear, completely ignoring the rest of your sentence. “S’long as you promise to quit that shitty fucking job you have for the shitty fucking job we have.”

“It’s not that bad,” Jason mumbles, running his hands through your hair delicately. As you’ve gotten to know him, you realize it’s his way of saying he also wants you to quit your diner job. “They’ve been bugging me to hire someone new, anyway.”

You nod, thinking it over. “Okay,” you respond finally.

“Cool,” he says with a nod. “We have dental.” 

You can’t help but snort at Jason’s ridiculous idea of pillow talk. Regardless of the squished space, you fall asleep easily, surrounded by the ones you find yourself falling for more and more each day.

🎮🎮🎮🎮

Weeks fly by, then months, spending time with the three of them.

From aquarium dates to DIY spa treatments and nail painting weekends, you’ve never had such a blast. You’ve gotten a lot more comfortable with all of them as you all still figure out the mechanics of dating four people at once.

The bell above the diner rings out as Jason and Roy come to pick you up after your final shift at the diner. Next week, you’re scheduled to train with Kori for your first shift at GameStop.

“Where’s Kori?” you ask as you hop into Roy’s shitty car.

“Her sister’s in town,” Jason replies as he shifts under you in the front seat. “She should be back around dinner, though.”

Roy pats your thigh as he slides into the driver's seat. He gives it a squeeze before revving the engine. “Got a problem with it being just me and Jay, beautiful?”

You obviously don’t. They’d taken turns fucking to you last night while Kori’d been at work.

You ignore his question, noticing he’s missed his turn. “Where are we going?” you ask curiously.

“You still need to get your Xbox from your old place, right?” Roy asks way too nonchalantly for you to believe there’s not some sort of hidden meaning behind it.

You feel a certain calculatedness between him and Jason, as if you’re missing something they’ve clearly discussed. However, you push this aside as you make a mental checklist of what’s left. Your lease is up in a week and you’ve been steadily moving into a new place you’ll eventually share with them. 

“That and one extra box of plushies,” you say. You know Kori won’t allow you to donate any of them, anyway. If anything, you figure that they’ll be a nice welcome gift for her when the three of them officially move in with you a few weeks from now.

The place is perfect for what the four of you have going on. 

It’s close enough to town that getting to work will be easy but far enough away that it feels entirely your own. It’s a townhouse with a massive master bedroom, something Jason’s planning to fill with a custom bed for all four of you to fit on. There’s even a four-car garage due to the fact that the adjacent townhome isn’t in use and the landlord doesn’t give a fuck. 

You pull up to your old place, sharing a cheeky smile with Jason as the memories of your first time with him come flooding back to both of you. You grab your Xbox and take one last look around. 

A lot has changed since you first moved here, but the change has been good and you can’t complain.

The two of them share an unreadable look as you climb back into Jason’s lap. Before you can question it, Roy’s already peeling off. He’s blasting his college band’s EP at full blast as the three of you jet off under the blazing desert sun.

“You ready, Jay?” Roy asks cheekily.

Jason looks pissed that he’s even asked and refuses to give him a response.

“Ready for what?” you bite.

But all Roy does is smirk. “Don’t worry, baby. You’ll like it,” he purrs. His freckled fingers tap to the drumbeat against the steering wheel as he screeches down the main streets. His shitty Mustang takes you all the way to the edge of town to your new place.

Roy hops out of the car first, jogging, then sliding across the hood to open the door for you and Jason. The redhead helps you out of the coupe, taking your hand in his and pressing a gentle kiss atop it before doing the same to a begrudged Jason.

“Why are you guys acting so fucking weird?” you ask as they each take one of your hands into their own.

Roy remains quiet, forcing Jason to answer you. Jason’s seemed on edge ever since the two of them had picked you up from the diner. You don’t understand why he’s so nervous around you today.

“We have a surprise for you,” is all Jason says.

The more nervous he is, you’ve found, the quieter he becomes. Whatever the surprise is, the way he’s acting right now reminds you of your first date to the outside library. 

It’s cute.

“Kori helped, too,” Roy adds helpfully as he goes about unlocking the door.

Upon entry, everything looks normal. Nothing’s out of place, so you’re still entirely in the dark on the whole surprise. Well, dark in general, considering no one’s bothered to turn on any lights yet.

Jason flicks on the light to the stairs and takes the lead, seemingly nervous, while Roy trails behind you with a wicked smirk.

From behind you, Roy covers over your eyes as you make land on the second floor, though you accidentally stumble into Jason in front of you because of it.

“Sorry!” you squeak. You attempt to pry Roy’s freckled hands from your face so you can, you know, fucking see, but he remains resolute.

“Wouldn’t want to ruin your surprise, now would we, gorgeous?” he teases easily.

“Jason,” you beg for backup that never comes.

“He’s not gonna be any help, baby. This whole thing was his idea.” Roy’s breath tickles against your ear as you’re shuffled into a room. “Wasn’t it, Jason?”

“Shut it, Harper,” he hisses in response. Regardless of his harsh tone, Jason’s gentle with you as he situates you to sit on…?

“Is this a bed?”

Both men snort at your observation.

“Yeah.”

At Jason’s response, Roy finally lifts his hands from your eyes.

You look down at the huge fucking mattress you’re sitting on. It’s easily the size of two king-sized mattresses and would definitely be a comfortable fit for the four of you as you settle into your new shared space. Hell, they’ve even gone so far as to put on the sheets and everything.

You can tell it was Kori’s tall-ass that hung the TV because it’s way too fucking far up the wall, but at least it’s already set up with Roy’s Xbox. The room, no, the entire house needs some more work, but it’s an amazing and exciting start. Definitely a good surprise, you think to yourself with a smile.

It’s obvious that they’d just been over here from the screen that remains idle from the last game they’d been playing. 

“This is,” you turn around from where you are at the edge of the bed to get a better look at the ginormous contraption, “insane. I love it!” Jason seems genuinely pleased by your reaction and seems to finally relax a bit. Good. “I was seriously wondering why you were acting so nervous,” you snort in Jason’s direction.

Instead of smiling, he suddenly seems entirely nervous again.

Weird.

“Oh, that’s not because of the bed,” Roy jests toward a constipated-looking Jason. “Is it, Jay?”

Jason sighs, moving forward to crouch in front of you and the new bed, “I needed the dumbass’ help.” You raise a brow, first at him, then at Roy’s cheeky form behind him. “I want to please you.”

You can’t help it. You choke on your spit.

“You do, Jay,” you’re quick to reassure him, completely confused by whatever the fuck’s going on here.

His lips quirk slightly at the nickname. “I know, but I want to try something new, something I haven’t really done before. That’s why I want Roy to be here. I want to learn, but I also want it to feel good for you.”

“Uh,” you’re even more confused than before, “okay.” 

Jason, however, is saved by the bell as Kori FaceTimes you.

“You have seen the surprise, correct?” The redheaded woman beams at you through the screen. You lift your arm up and fall backward onto the comfy bed in lieu of a response, “Oh, yay!” she squeals, “You like it, then, yes?”

“Of course, Kor,” you say, giggling when she beams at your nickname for her. “I love y-it, so much,” you rush to add the last part to cover up your near slip. You weren’t going to be the first one to say it, especially not over the fucking phone. You go to hand the phone to Jason and Roy so they can say ‘hi,’ but they’re too busy eyeing your spread-out form on the mattress. “Uh, Kori?”

“Yes?” Her wide green eyes look at you with concern.

“Are you somewhere private by chance?”

“Private?” she asks dubiously. To make your predicament clearer for her, you flip around the camera to show Jason and Roy both donning their bedroom eyes. “Oh,” she mumbles cutely as the screen on her end starts jostling around.

Meanwhile, Roy joins you on the oversized bed while Jason sinks to his knees in front of you.

“You like it when I spank you, right?” Jason asks. You nod at him, not understanding the connection. “I want to do that and more with you, but I don’t really know how to without Roy’s experience, hence…” he trails off awkwardly. 

He’s not even looking at you, so he can’t see how you beam at his statement.

“Tell her what you want,” Roy encourages in a deep voice. His hand trickle up and down the arm closest to him while the other grabs for the phone. “You want a show, Star?”

“I would love one,” Kori says and you watch as she bites at her lip, settling into what seems to be in a bathroom. 

Roy props up the phone in just a way that allows Kori the perfect view of the three of you and the three of you the perfect view of her. As soon as he’s pleased with the positioning, he coaxes you in for a slow, deep kiss.

Your eyes flutter shut as the two men take turns kissing your lips and each other’s. When you go to trail your hand up Jason’s thigh, he stops you.

“We still need a safe word,” Jason mumbles against your lips, eyes searching yours with hesitation as if he’s afraid he’s said the wrong thing.

He hasn’t and you assure him of it with a sensual, slow kiss.

“Red?”

“Simple enough,” he concurs.

Everyone jumps when the console rings out a warning that it’ll be shutting down soon. It’s then that Roy’s face twists up coyly. 

“I think I have an idea,” Roy spouts suddenly. He quickly shoves on Jason’s sweats, going commando as he picks up his car keys and jogs out of the room at half-mast.

He returns moments later with… “Tape?” you question the object in his hands.

You’re lost.

He merely hands it to Jason before stripping back down. As he rejoins you on the bed, he languidly drapes across your body to draw you in for a toe-curling kiss. It’s then that you notice the rope as well. 

Your stomach flips in anticipation of what’s to come.

“You remember our safe word?” Jason asks before he rips the tape off of the roll with his teeth.

“I do,” you reassure him. Jason’s eyes flash with something you can’t quite place as he uses the tape to secure the controller against your upper thigh. He angles it in just a way that allows the edge of it to rest against your clit.

From there, Roy untangles the rope while Jason turns his attention to the survival game on the screen. The car he gets into vibrates intensely, sending you shooting forward into Roy’s firm chest, “Shit!” Roy’s laughter booms against your smooshed face until he helps you resituate.

“Should I crash the fucking car into a mountain, or something? It’s hard to focus on this and the driving’sall,” Jason grumbles. He cutely turns around, looking at Roy with an innocence the situation should not possess, but you’re so glad it does. “That way, when I accelerate, it doesn’t have to go anywhere but it’ll still vibrate.”

You and Roy share a look, leaving you to giggle. 

Roy snorts, “Sure, Jay.” 

Jason does end up crashing the car, sending the controller absolutely crazy as he does. 

You cry out in pleasure, wriggling against the sheets at the brief burst of vibration. Roy motions Jason closer as he lays the rope across your skin, helping Jason knot and twist it until you’re sufficiently hogtied. The silky rope is tight around each of your breasts, threading down between your pussy lips, then straight through to part your asscheeks salaciously.

Once Roy’s pleased, he commands Jason to slip you over onto your stomach so you face Kori.

Kori licks her index finger nice and slow for you, propping her phone up on the sink to give you all a nice view of her manicured nails slipping through her bush, all the way down to her clit. She begins rubbing slowly, watching sardonically as you whimper against the low vibrations. 

“As much as this is about Jason, baby,” Roy starts as  you feel someone lining up behind you and mewl pathetically. Your eyes can hardly focus on Kori on the screen in front of you, let alone the camera displaying you, Jason and Roy. “Would it be alright if I cut in?”

“Fuck,” you groan, feeling the phantom weight of his member bobbing close to your entrance. 

Surprisingly, it’s Jason who runs a calm hand through your hair before bundling it up and tugging your head back to meet their faces. Your mouth forms a tiny ‘o’ when your eyes rest upon theirs.

“We need a verbal response,” Jason’s voice sinfully dribbles across your name. You have no choice but to give in to his domineering demeanor.

“Please,” comes your wrecked response.

“Good boy, Jay,” Roy praises with a wolfish smirk as he drags Jason in for a searing kiss. “I just want a taste, promise, then she’s all yours. Control the remote for me for a sec, okay?” Roy turns his attention back to you with a wicked gaze. “You ready, beautiful?”

Were you ready for him to fuck you when you’ve been waiting for his dick ever since the first break room escapade? 

“I don’t think I can wait any longer, Roy,” you answer honestly. It seems to catch him off guard. His face opens up for you in a way you haven’t seen since he made it official in the desert.

“Really?” Roy asks as if shocked. Even Jason seems surprised by his reaction.

You bite at the corner of your lower lip, nodding coquettishly.

“Jay know this?” Roy asks breathlessly, looking at you like he wants to devour you right then and there. “How bad you want me?”

Your eyes flicker over to Jason, which he takes as an opportunity to rev the game, vibrating the controller.

“Answer him.” The shyness in Jason’s voice is completely gone. You might think he was even upset had it not been for the obvious tent in his boxers.

“I talk about you all the time,” you say as he slinks over your body, hovering over you with his larger form. You feel embarrassed to go on, but Kori’s encouraging coos leave you no choice but to divulge everything. “He asks me if I’m imagining it’s you when he’s fucking into me.” Jason releases a shaky exhale at your admission. “He stretches me out, telling me to imagine he’s getting me ready for the two of you to fuck my pussy at the same time-"

“Shit, Jay,” Roy breathes, turning his head around to face Jason’s blushing form. “Such a filthy mouth. I’ll need to punish you later, won’t I?”

He rolls his eyes, but Roy lets him off easy as he’s more preoccupied with lining himself up. The tip of his cock teases your already slick entrance, threatening to push through and fill you for the first time. You’re reeling when Jason decides to amp up the vibrations.

You arch upward into Roy’s body. Your dazed eyes try to focus on Kori in front of you, but everything feels so fucking good. You’re pretty sure your mouth is moving, but you have no idea if anything coherent comes out once Roy’s tip breaches your tight cunt. 

He pushes in slowly, murmuring sweet things in your ear as he fills your cunt with his girth. Jason’s slowed down the vibrations to nearly nothing so you can feel all of Roy as he fully settles inside you.

You’ve just gotten used to his thick cock when Jason makes a demand, “Moan for Kori.”

Roy groans, body shivering inside you as your eyes meet hers on the screen.

You blush, suddenly feeling shy as her half-lidded neon green eyes meet your widened ones. Jason won’t allow it, though as he amps up the controller to a nearly unbearable speed. You unleash an unholy moan, arousal leaking through the cracks in a way that leaves your partners visibly affected.

“More,” Kori commands and you have no choice but to give in.

Roy’s hips pick up the pace, thrusting deeper and deeper with each thrust until you’re wriggling around helplessly in their combined hold. The controller remains high as Jason claims your mouth in an aggressive kiss that matches Roy’s aggressive pace. Each thrust leaves the ropes tugging in all the right places, adding to the already intense sensations you’re assaulted with.

You don’t realize you’re coming until the strength of it forces Roy’s leaking cock out of your cunt. Just like at the picnic, you squirt everywhere, drenching everyone in the vicinity in your want. 

“It’s been so long since you’ve squirted for us, baby,” Roy says as he practically vibrates next to your panting form.

You’re too sensitive and whine until they untape the controller from your thigh, but the ropes stay on. There’s no time for recovery before Jason stakes his claim on you.

Jason tentatively fucks your dripping cunt until Roy’s gentle encouragement spurs him to shove his fingers in your mouth. Your tongue lulls out of your mouth in response, wanting- no, needing to be filled. The way you feel, coupled with the way they’re talking about you like a fucking object leaves you reeling.

“Kori,” you whimper as she watches you sardonically through the screen.

“She can’t help you, babe,” Jason’s husky voice groans against your ear. “You want Roy’s dick?” Your lulled tongue drooling is the only response the redhead needs as he lines himself up with your open mouth.

“If it gets to be too much, just snap your fingers, okay?” you nod gratefully at Jason’s carefulness.

It’s not too much at all. In fact, it’s everything you need and more.

You’ve never tried consecutive orgasms before, but damn if you didn’t feel like you were about to come again. This time, it builds with an icy tremor across your hot skin, blossoming across your face all the way down to your lower stomach.

Kori’s fingers speed up on the screen. She’s wet as fuck. You can hear it with every slick flick of her fingers against her creamy cunt. It’s all too much and entirely not enough.

“Mmph!” you groan against Roy’s cock as Jason drills into your g-spot. Each thrust tightens the ropes around your body in the most delicious way. You wriggle your ass helplessly in the air as you take their wanton ministrations.

Your eyes tear up as you take Roy’s impressive length deeper down your throat, attention on Kori as you near closer to coming undone again. Roy pulls out, smacking his dick against your cheeks and drawing the tip teasingly across your swollen, fuck-doll lips.

“You like Jay’s dick?” Roy smirks down at your lucid face. When you don’t respond, he tugs at the hold he has on your hair. “Answer us,” he demands, teeth gritted in arousal as he awaits your answer. 

“Feels,” you pant, moaning when Roy smacks your face lightly so you focus on finishing your sentence, “so good, Jason. Please!” you beg as his hips snap flush against your tight hole. “Feels so fucking good, baby.”

“You want to come?” Jason takes over control of your hair from Roy as he snaps your head back to force you into a dizzying kiss.

You nod, gasping as you pull apart. “Please, Jay,” you repeat again.

He groans at the nickname, doubling his efforts on your pussy.

“So beautiful,” Kori praises through the speakers.

Jason doesn’t last much longer. His hips snap into your tight heat a few more sloppy thrusts before his hot come fills inside your cunt deep. He groans, smacking your ass like you showed him you like as he pulls out. Roy doesn’t let too much come escape before he flips your sensitive come filled cunt around for Kori to see.

She wanted a show, so you’re going to give her one.

“Talk to her, Star,” Roy prompts as he fingers all the come that’s fallen to your thighs back inside your pussy with a lewd squelch. You pull away from him slightly, spurring slight concern, “Are you okay, baby? Do you need to use the safe word?” You shake your head with a gentle moan as you settle back toward him. “Are you sure?”

“Verbal,” Jason warns you.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you sigh. With this, you wriggle back even more toward Roy’s dripping fingers as if to prove your point.

Jason praises with a light kiss to your brow, “Good girl.” His eyes, however, are entirely focused on the mess Roy’s pushing in and out of your tight cunt.

“I wish I could taste you,” Star whimpers quietly into the speaker.

Though you can’t see her from your position, her voice is enough to send tantalizing shivers down your used body.

“Film this shit, Jay,” Roy says. The redheadneagerly hands the phone to Jason to film Roy fucking Jason’s come into you until Roy’s soon joins the mix.

You’re panting, entirely exhausted, as they show off you’re fucked-out form to a gasping Kori. It’s erotic enough of a sight that she sputters and comes onto her three fingers soon after you’ve been filled.

There’s a light knock on the bathroom door and Kori’s quick to sheepishly wave and hang up. However, she manages to catch the beginning of your orgasm as Jason and Roy lavish you with their fingers and tongues. You come with a muffled cry against the fingers Jason’s shoved in your mouth, releasing against the pads of Roy’s expert fingers.

You’re left groaning in overstimulation when it’s all done. 

They pepper kisses across your heated skin as you come down from the high, mewling all the while. Once you’re more coherent, Roy shows Jason how to remove the ropes that bind you.

“You were so good,” Jason sputters, looking to Roy for encouragement that this is what comes next. 

It apparently is because, the next thing you know, Roy’s rifling around in your bathroom shit for lotion. Roy instructs Jason to warm it between his hands slightly before placing it on your tender skin. 

They murmur praises against your ears, pressing kisses along your body as they continue the aftercare.

“How do you feel, gorgeous?” Roy asks. “Does anything hurt?”

“Mm,” you moan as their hands work gently against your body. “I feel really fucking good.”

“Nothing hurts?” Jason confirms.

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p’ as you lazily drawl the word from your fucked-out mouth.

“So,” Jason starts tentatively. His hands still their movements on your skin as if he’s suddenly nervous. “You’d want to try this again?” he asks somewhat shyly.

“Of course,” you say with a smile, “but next time I want Kori to fuck me with her alien strap, too.”

The look in both of their eyes prove that they agree completely.

🎮🎮🎮🎮

Later that night, Kori interrupts your gaming session as she bursts in with three bags of something that smells incredible.

“I brought takeout!” 

You pause the game to greet her with a chaste kiss that she deepens. “How was your sister?” you ask.

“It was good! We got lunch at the new place downtown you told me about,” she babbles as she presses another chaste kiss to your lips, then moves to greet Jason and Roy with much of the same. "Then we went shopping—oh!” she exclaims suddenly before producing a red dress from her bag. “I got this for you!”

It’s as red as your cheeks and easily matches the safeword from earlier. You take the dress gratefully, if not sheepishly, “Thank you, Kor. So, you had fun?”

“Mostly,” she hums as she sets out an abundance of steaming boxes. “Sometimes my sister can be…” Kori trails off, as if not knowing the word. 

“Difficult,” Roy supplies for her.

“Yes,” Kori beams in his direction “difficult.” You help her set out plates while she and Jason dish out enough food to feed an army. “I still had a good time, though. I miss her.”

“I take it you told her about us?” Jason asks, though he refuses to make eye contact with anyone. 

“I did,” she nods, seemingly worried that it’s the wrong answer. 

“And?” he questions.

“She did not care for it, Jason.” 

Jason responds as if on autopilot, “I see.”

Your stomach sinks. You’ve yet to tell anyone back home, but you’d hate to face rejection when you do. Even Roy seems disappointed, though he doesn’t look surprised. Meanwhile, Jason’s wearing his best version of a poker face, though you all know him well enough to see right through it.

Though you obviously feel affected by the rejection, you hate seeing how it wears on your partners. You're not going to let one person’s opinion come between who you’ve really been falling in love with.

You refuse to let Kori’s sister have this effect over any of you.

“Well, I like what we have,” you say suddenly. With your plate in hand, you sit back down at the table, blushing when all three easily follow behind you. “It’s unconventional, sure, but it’s not like we need approval from her or anyone,” you continue on before your anxiety can tell you to shut up. “Besides, us all living together is just the first step of, well, everything. We know what we want for ourselves and we’re doing it, of course people are going to be dicks about it, regardless of the, you know,” you trail off sheepishly as you look around the table at your awe-struck partners, “polyamory… anyway. Never mind.”

It’s completely quiet as your words sink over the sullied mood.

“She is right,” Kori’s the one who ends up breaking the silence. You wait for her to say more and are completely shocked when she does. “I love all of you.” 

You don’t mean to, but you gasp. No one’s yet to broach the L-word, so it takes you completely off guard.

“I’ve never been one to give a fuck what anyone says or thinks,” Jason says. “I love you guys, too.”

His serious face draws a smile to yours. Meanwhile, Roy looks like he’s just won the lottery.

“I love you all,” Roy quickly spouts.

No one pressures you and you almost consider keeping your feelings to yourself. Almost. 

They’ve all been there for you when no one else was and all they ask for in return is all you could ever ask of them. They’re all completely different and, yet all completely perfect for you. If they’re being this open, you want to be open with them, too.

“So, we’re all in love, then?” You blush, hoping it’s not too obvious, but it doesn’t seem to matter.

All of them are up and out of their seats to draw you into a group hug. Tiny kisses are scattered across everyone’s everywhere until, eventually, dinner moves to the new bed.

They make good on their word of the strap, something Kori completely dominates you with. She lays behind you as she fucks into you lazily with her ginormous alien-dick strap. Her hands trail up your body as you flick your tongue against Roy’s, who’s lying on his side facing you, while Jason fucks into him from behind, mirroring Kori’s position behind you.

It’s slow and intimate as the four of you meld together as lovers.

When you’re finished, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. They were all going to go back to their place, leaving you alone for the first night over at the new place.

“What is wrong?” Kori asks. The taller woman lifts your chin gently, searching your eyes with confusion. Her slow cleaning movements against your skin halt. “Is it me?”

“No, it’s not you,” you snort, turning around in her arms to give her a chaste, reassuring kiss. “Well, kind of,” you trail off sheepishly. At this, she quirks a brow, something you find entirely too cute. “I want this to feel even more like our place. I don’t want to stay here all alone,” you finish with a pout.

“We were already planning on staying the night, love,” Jason says and places a reassuring kiss against your forehead.

You brighten instantly. “You’re all staying?” you ask excitedly.

“Of course,” Jason says at the same time Roy says, “We do have a bed to break in, right?”

“It doesn’t just have to be sex,” you say.

You’re already feeling completely spent after such an adventurous day. All you want to do is snuggle in bed with them, watching shitty movies that Jason and Kori pick out. So, this is exactly what the four of you do. You’re all propped up on the new bed together as some old movie flickers across the screen. Roy had argued for Dirty Dancing but had conceded to Jason’s pick of Somewhere in Time. 

“Of course you’d pick a chick-flick,” Roy half-heartedly complains approximately 20 minutes in.

“Picked it out just for you, Harper,” Jason drawls just to be a dick. Before he can say any more, Roy quite literally hits him with a pillow over the face. “You redheaded fucking cunt,” Jason curses, taking the pillow and smacking him over his head in retaliation.

“PILLOW FIGHT!” Roy shouts. The redhead swipes the pillow from behind your back, standing on the bed in Jason’s big sweats to smack you and Kori in the face. 

You share one look with her before the two of you are up and joining in.

Roy attempts to get another one over on Jason, but Jason pulls his sweats down and tackles him to the mattress before he can. Roy wrestles with him, attempting to dodge the pillow Jason brings down upon him, but it’s in vain.

You take a different approach. You’re on your knees, giggling with Kori. You lightly take hits at each other back and forth like it’s soft porn as feathers empty out of it and litter into the air. You manage to keep it sexy until you accidentally get one good smack on her. 

Suddenly, it’s not so sexy.

Kori’s on your ass in an instant, decking you in the face with a new pillow, sending a new plume of feathers into the already-filled air. You double over in laughter, holding up your hands in surrender, but she doesn’t concede. Instead, she holds you down as Roy straddles you to finish you off in her honor.

Jason comes valiantly to your rescue. He’s able to get Roy off of you, but when it comes to Kori, he’s fucked. She decks him with two pillows to the face with a super strength you’re convinced she holds.

The pillow fight only lasts so long before is devolves into a makeout pile. You kiss anyone and everyone you can get your hands on, writhing against their familiar bodies in the massacre of feathers that now coat the duvet. You and Kori eventually tire and shoo the men off the bed to swipe the excess feathers to the floor. 

With a clean bed and feathered hair, Kori grabs Roy bridal style. She deposits him into bed before joining him under the covers. Jason lifts you in the same way, tucking you into bed next to them with a dopey smile. You end up cuddling in between Jason and Roy with Kori splayed partially over you and the other redhead.

With all of them by your side, you now realize your first observation of this town had been incorrect. Yes, it’s true that, on the surface, the desert lacked life, the caring people you’ve surrounded yourself with, however, definitely do not. No, they make it beautiful, magical even.

Though at first, all you could see was red dust, Kori, Roy and Jason have since shown you the sturdy roots and budding flora that scatter across the horizon. It’s something you may have glanced over in the beginning, but now it’s all you can see. 

It’s different, sometimes dizzying, how everything in your life has changed since meeting them, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

No, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

A/N: really sad this one is finally coming to an end! this was the third fic i'd ever written for the fandom and now i'm sitting at 6!

let me know your thoughts or if you'd like to see any dialoge or scenes for this universe! i'd love to make oneshots for it

[end] || ao3 ||  pinned || ways to support

[griots-tales]

Hi! Can I request a t’challa x reader were this recently takes place after avengers endgame were the reader tells & introduces t’challa and shuri to t’challa and reader’s daughter

Sure thing! This is written for a Black AFAB reader living in America. Fluffy PG 13 stuff.

Your first embrace after five years was nothing short of life-giving. You trembled in his arms, breathing in his warmth and choking up with incoming sobs. Your tears soaked up the soft fabric of the olive hoodie he wore to blend in with the neighborhood, and he let you wrap your legs around him when he lifted you up.

The weather was a little warmer than usual, and the air was filled with distant conversation between people getting reunited with their families, just as they were doing... and nobody batted an eye when they saw people crying and hugging each other on the street.

The sun lit up T'Challa's tight curls and eyelashes as you pulled apart slightly, and you still couldn't believe it. It was the same man you thought you would never see again... well, except in your daughter.

T'Challa still didn't know about her. And neither did Shuri.

Your tears still flowed, because you just saw Shuri, who had also come all the way to the US to see you again. You collided with her, kissing her forehead and cuddling her like she would disappear again. Having a baby didn't make it any easier to live without the first.

The three of you hugged again, and you let go of Shuri only to kiss T'Challa for the first time in five years.

"Eww!" Shuri cried in mock disgust, seeing PDA less than six feet away from herself.

The nostalgia of hearing Shuri's chatter, and feeling T'Challa's body against yours hit you again. Bast, you had missed this dearly.

~

You had planned this out from the moment you recovered from the shock of people reappearing out of thin air. Both the siblings were unsuspecting and unassuming of what you were up to even as you walked up to the school at the outreach center.

Shuri was busy playing with a cat that had snuggled up to her in the middle of the park that you were all now in, while you and T'Challa watched, holding hands. He lazily fingered the beads on your braids, taking in how you had changed through the years. You had grown plumper with some post pregnancy fat still curling in love handles around your waist. He seemed to like it, as he smiled when his long fingers brushed subtly, but sensually over your midriff and hips.

The causative of half your stretch marks was about to arrive from her last lesson in school in less than a minute now, and you couldn't wait to see her, now more than ever.

The bell rang, and a high-pitched chorus of yelling ensued, signaling the end of the school day for the little ones. T'Challa smiled at the noise and looked at your expression. Your mischievous smile made him frown a little in suspicion.

"Hey- where are you going?" Shuri called after the tabby as it rushed off to the entrance of the park, which was near the school gate. Children rushed into their parents' arms in the distance, while some rushed out into the play area in the park. The cat followed some first graders around as they opened their tiny bags to bring out various bits of food that they had diligently saved during recess.

Both of them grinned at the sight, but you were focused on the one little girl with her hair done up in two little puffs by none other than you. She giggled and cuddled the cat before she looked up and saw you.

And when you glanced at T'Challa you thought, he knows. The look on T'Challa's face was one of dawning realization as the little girl came running straight to you. His nose sat on her face, albeit a little softer, if possible... and his eyes looked at their near identical twins from a distance. There was also your round face and huge, pillowy lips that turned a little down on the edges.

Shuri, as smart as she was, was in a little denial as she seemed puzzled at the girl's advance.

"Who's that?"

Neither of you answered, waiting for the girl to slow down as she came closer and finally, ran into your arms. You lifted her up like you always did and kissed her on the cheek.

T'Challa swallowed, his eyes welling with a myriad of shock, joy and pain. He stepped backwards to comprehend it fully: you had a child.... a five-year-old.... who looked a lot like him.

You grinned at him and neither of you spoke a word for a second. Shuri finally realized what was going on, and her eyes blew wide as saucers. Your daughter looked a little confused, but being the wise child she was, she decided to introduce herself first.

"Hi!" She said to Shuri, who was near her.

"H-hi! What's your name?" Shuri replied out of reflex.

"I'm Taraji, nice to meet you!" she squeaked, a little nervous, but excited and determined to make a new friend.

"Tara, do you know who these are?" you asked her.

She didn't answer immediately, shyly fiddling with the end of her green dashiki. "That's aunty,"

You put your arm around T'Challa. "And this?"

"That's Baba." she smiled.

T'Challa couldn't hold back his tears further than this; he pressed his sleeve into his eyes to be able to see his daughter better. She was the most beautiful thing in the whole world at that moment, and it brought him to his knees. Taraji approached him slowly from your arms, and T'Challa first held her little palms in his huge hands.

"Are you crying because you're happy?" She whispered curiously.

T'Challa nodded and hugged his daughter for the first time. "Ewe,"

Behind you, Shuri too burst into tears, and you held her as she tried to calm down. It worked out just as you had planned, and you couldn't feel happier and more complete with your sister your love, and your baby girl.

"Even Miss Brown cried when our old class came back... it's okay." She reassured her father, who nodded fervently as he examined every inch.

"I know... I'm just..." He murmured, "I should've seen it coming!" He laughed, catching your eye. You chuckled at him, remembering the nights in the early spring of 2018, that resulted in Taraji.

"So," He wiped his eyes again, "Taraji, hm? Taraji (Y/L/N)?"

The little girl grinned "Taraji (Y/L/N)." she confirmed, cutely mispronouncing your last name.

"Does she know?" T'Challa looked deep into her eyes. Shuri nodded. "Does she know who she is?"

You shrug. "Ask her, King."

Your babydaddy glanced at you before turning to his daughter. "Ungubani?"

The child stood up straight as she said this: "Ndingu Inkosazana T'Challa, Intombika Kumkani T'Challa."

I am Princess T'Challa, daughter of King T'Challa.

[mediumsizedwildcat]

edit: minors please do not interact. i can't control what you read, if you pop up in my notifications i'll block you

well, this spiraled out of “thought” into “ficlet”

durgetash, after durge quest, endgame, genderneutral (they/them) redemption durge, death, resurrection, sad, happy ending, major spoilers (obviously)

when allying with gortash, you meet him at the brain's location and walk the last bit together. he takes the netherstones from you and tries to command the brain. it retaliates, commands him to die.

what if durge realizes this before the brain commands?

what if-

“no.” free of bhaal, they wrap their arm around gortash's neck, nuzzle their nose against the side of his head. amused by defiance, the netherbrain hesitates.

the memories will never return, but this close to their former beloved, durge's heart lets them know exactly how important gortash actually was to them. “he's mine,” they growl.

the brain sends out a vibe, almost as if it means to caress as well as edge on. do it, it challenges, though it doesn't say it, doesn't think it for them to hear.

knowledge flashes in their mind, where to stab to prolong the blood loss. no doubt they studied this to get off to their victim's deaths. to torture efficiently, let their victims believe there was a way out.

durge snarls, shows their teeth to the brain, their dagger pierces skin. they hold their breath, listen to gortash's death sounds. his gasps, the pain in his voice, the satisfaction that it was durge in the end. hope they remembered.

a tear rolls down durge's face, drops and soaks into gortash's robe. they pull out the dagger, hold gortash as he sinks into their arms. part of them wonders if he is that fragile or if he pretends. the brain is satisfied. durge realizes they couldn't win this fight of minds no matter how hard they tried, certainly not with gortash in their arms. but there is an archwizard in their ranks.

durge passes the stones to gale. “your turn,” they say. they pick up the dagger from gortash's lap, wrap their arm around his waist.

gale hesitates, “are you sure?”

durge laughs, no humor behind it. “i'm in no condition to beat an elderbrain, but you're an archwizard. you defied mystra, bested that orb, you'll get that crown, you'll return it to mystra, and she'll free you. if you cannot do this, gale of waterdeep, none of us can.”

gale steps up to the challenge. he binds the brain with every move. it doesn't matter, the brain breaks free. the emperor pulls them into the astral prism.

durge looks up, turns to halsin, to shadowheart. “someone heal him,” they plead, gortash still in their arms, barely alive.

“soldier,” karlach warns, anger radiates from her.

“he can-” meeting the fury in karlach's eyes, durge chokes on their words.

“he planned to blow up children with toys! he sold me to zariel!” karlach picks up her battleaxe. “he doesn't get a second chance.”

durge holds gortash closer, as if to shield him. “ketheric died, orin died. i was much worse than them combined,” they remind. “i raped, killed, and ate babes. i haunted children's nightmares, made them watch as their parents sacrificed themselves to keep them safe. carved their names into their parent's flesh as i killed them, ate dwarf regularly, experimented, tortured, kept the corpses to satisfy sexual urges.”

their body shivers. those are unthinkable horrors to them now, something they would never dare. they're good now. their friends shaped them.

“he did what he knew, what he grew up to do, all he ever saw. if i get a second chance, why can't he? if i-”

gortash chokes and despite the blood loss, pushes out of durge's arms. durge reaches out, places their hand on his cheek, pushes their thumb against his lip.

“we can be better,” they say quietly, “we can be good. he can help with your engine, karlach.” they meet gortash's eyes, hopeful, pleading, “we can be good.”

gortash's expression twists into one of disgust. “weak,” he chokes out. “changed.”

durge's breath catches in their throat, tears begin to sting their eyes. “but,” they trace his bottom lip, “we can be better? together? we can-”

gortash turns his head up, snarls, bares his teeth. disgust in his gaze as it wanders over his former lover's body.

the emperor rolls its eyes. “the netherbrain-”

“shut it, ghaik,” lae'zel warns.

durge pulls their hand away, takes out stillmaker from its place on their thigh. they show it to gortash, a reminder of their time together. a gift from bane's tyrant to bhaal's spawn. “karlach,” their voice shakes with heartbreak, “i need a hand.”

with durge's knowledge of anatomy, they know exactly where to place stillmaker to avoid ribs and puncture the heart. karlach places her hand on the pommel, looks at durge, and nods.

durge turns their head away, closes their eyes, lets the tears fall. they nod. karlach pushes stillmaker into gortash's chest, right where durge positioned it. they pull it out together.

gortash gasps, then his body goes limp.

the party is quiet. they follow the emperor to prince orpheus. no one mentions durge carrying gortash's body.

durge uses the pain. they pretend to let the emperor eat the prince's brain, convince it to bring down the barrier. they use magical chackles to bind the emperor to prince orpheus. they hand the orphic hammer to lae'zel and urge her to free her people's prince.

somehow, durge manages to make them all work together. they carry gortash's body out of the astral prism, they promise voss that once this is over, they will remove the chackles. they watch as the allies they've gathered, the friends they've made, question their sanity. their leadership.

finally, durge speaks up. “i cannot fight.”

silence follows. none believe them. halsin is the first who understands.

“you speak truth,” he says. “the headaches, your intestines... i remember from my examinations. you would need healing at all times. no matter, we have come this far and you have put together a good team. you will be missed during the final battle, but, oak father willing, we will make it.”

make it they did. they defeated the netherbrain, they celebrated. durge reaches for withers' arm. withers understands, but denies.

“one last act to piss off the dead three,” durge pleads.

gortash returns to life in their arms. this time, no sign of disgust. he lifts his hand, cups durge's cheek, “you carried me all the way here?”

“we can be good, enver,” durge pleads again.

gortash smiles, pained by bane's torture. “we can,” he agrees.

[dribs-and-drabbles]

I was encouraged by @grapejuicegay to trash watch Pit Babe and so here I am but I have...questions...

Is Babe really getting off on hearing the sound of the engines?!

Why is Babe having sex with other Alphas (I can't believe I'm writing this 🤦🏽‍♀️) and not Omegas, especially if he doesn't like the way the Alphas smell? Is it because he's a 'Super Alpha' and prefers Alphas to Omegas? (oh dear god why am I doing this?!)

Isn't it a tad unfair to let him race using his special powers against others who don't have them?

I nearly choked on my water reading Pavel's tattoo thinking it said "Full Sausage" but then I remembered @slayerkitty or @sparklyeyedhimbo had already made a point of this and I thankfully realised it says "Full Savage" 😂

I actually can't stop thinking about how salty Babe's skin would be because that man would have been sweating in that car race...

Wait wait wait...are they really calling (translating) Babe having sex as the "concentration"?! Like it's a thing he needs to do to...release pent up energy?!...to focus his mind?!

Do we get to know if any of Babe's friends are also Alphas (or Omegas or Betas) or is he the only one?

Please! This is so silly (affectionate). They can't compete over a person...someone who has their own autonomy to say what he can do and with whom 😂 And, sorry, but Charlie, love, you should have had more confidence in Babe since you went to him as a fan.

How did Winner win that first one?... I can't believe this show has me googling how to win a drift race... "It's all about dominating the other driver..." ah, ok, now I get why they're doing this.

Oh, if I'd just continued watching I wouldn't have needed to google it 😂🤦🏽‍♀️

Kind of impressed by the actual drivers of these cars though.

Winner needs to take some advice from Elsa and Let It Go.

"I don't go into strangers' houses"... I smell a parallel in the future, it's that alpha stink.

*she squints* TINIDEE APARTMENTS?! Charlie is staying in the same building as Pat and Pran?! (*aaaand there she goes making it about Bad Buddy again*)

OMG what is it with villans and bonsai trees?! (I want a bonsai tree, does that mean I need to become a villainess? 🤔)

Why are they calling that guy 'Uncle'...he looks the same age?!

Okay, that was...not as bad as I first thought. Nut is a big bonus and Pavel and Pooh are doing a decent job. I do wonder if Babe and Charlie are endgame though or if Babe and Way are... Will I keep watching? Probably, now that I've started, but I may not do this each time...unless each ep throws up more questions. Thanks kk.