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whatiswrongwithpeople · 3 days ago

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Unspoken Understandings

part 2 to “Shattered Silence” (Jayce Talis x reader)

Part 1

Summary: After that fateful night in the lab both ,Jayce and you, have been unsure how to address the sudden shift in your dynamic. However, sometimes all it takes is a certain yordle to force Jayce to take a break from his work and leave the lab.

Warnings: none, no spoilers for s2, no canon plot, a good amount of domestic fluff

Notes: I am really REALLY surprised about how much love “Shattered Silence” has received and hope that you enjoy this follow up just as much. <3 Once again , this has been written in my notes app, I hope I didn’t miss any mistakes.

Tags🏷️ @a-queen-blr @anxious-doodler @brabuscoffwe

The days after the break-in were a blur of frantic packing and moving. You had to find a new place fast—nothing too fancy, just something safe, something that could hold your things and the remaining bits of your research. But the weight of it all pressed down on you, your muscles aching from days spent running between your old and new apartment. You didn’t have the luxury of time to process what had happened the night you stormed into the lab, or even think much about him.

But the nights…

The nights were when you couldn’t stop thinking about how, despite everything, Jayce had held you. How, for a brief moment, you had leaned into him without fear of rejection. You’d allowed yourself to feel vulnerable, and he hadn’t pushed you away.

Now, you found yourself trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest every time you thought about him, but the silence between you both felt suffocating.

Meanwhile, Jayce had buried himself in his work. The breakthrough he’d been chasing for months was nearly within reach, and that goal, that obsession, kept him up at night. But even as his mind raced with equations and possibilities, something nagged at him—a thought that he couldn’t shake, no matter how hard he tried.

It had started that night when you had collapsed into his arms, your trembling form clinging onto him like a lifeline. The way your body had felt in his embrace, how you had allowed him to hold and comfort you… something about it just felt right. And the days since? It was almost like he couldn't think straight without you. Your presence had become something he couldn’t quite get out of his head. Every time he closed his eyes, your face would appear—raw, vulnerable, but somehow more real than anything else in his life.

But what exactly was that thing between you? Was it something real, or just the aftershock of an unexpected and stressful situation? Jayce couldn’t even bring himself to ask.

---

It was late when Heimerdinger found him pacing in the lab, his mind so tangled in equations that the pieces didn’t seem to fit anymore.

“You’re working too hard, Jayce.” Heimerdinger’s voice was calm, but there was a quiet insistence behind it. He hadn’t seen the young inventor so distracted in what felt like ages.

Jayce, who had been scribbling furiously on a piece of paper, didn’t even look up. “I’m close to figuring this out. I just need a few more adjustments,” he said, but his voice lacked the usual tone of conviction.

Heimerdinger tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze studying the younger man. It didn’t take long for him to figure out the nature of the inventor’s problems. “You were always quick to tell me how distracting it was when you were around her. How you could hardly think clearly when she was near.” Heimerdinger spoke , a nonchalant tone covering up the intention behind his statement.

Jayce froze, his pen hovering mid-air. He couldn’t remember ever having said that, but since the incident the times of feeling annoyed by you felt so far away. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was true. That really had been how he’d felt around you, hadn’t it? You had always found a way of breaking through his concentration, making him second-guess his thoughts and decisions.

But now? He didn’t feel distracted anymore. The thought of you didn’t pull him away from his work—it was more like you were... quieting the noise in his mind. Every time he thought about you, his thoughts slowed, calmed. The gears in his brain didn’t spin at a hundred miles per hour anymore. They… rested.

Sighing, Jayce met Heimerdinger’s knowing gaze. "It’s not the same,” he said, his voice quieter now, unsure. “It’s... different.”

Heimerdinger gave him a pointed look, crossing his arms behind his back as he looked up at the young man. “You’ve been working non-stop for days, Jayce. Sometimes the best breakthroughs come when we step away from the work for a little while. You’re going to burn yourself out if you keep this up."

Jayce opened his mouth to argue, but Heimerdinger was already walking toward the door. “I’m forcing you out of here. Take a break. Go see her,” he said, an almost cheerful tone in his voice. And with that, he was gone.

Jayce sat in stunned silence for a moment, the yordle’s words hanging in the air. Go see her? If he was honest to himself, he hadn’t even thought about it. A part of his mind harbouring a feeling of anxiousness regarding the inevitable confrontation. But something in Heimerdinger’s voice made him hesitate. It was as if the older man had seen through all the layers of self-doubt Jayce had buried himself under.

With the scrape of his chair he stood up. He needed to get out of the lab. He needed to breathe. He needed to see you.

---

It wasn’t hard to find your new place. Jayce had always been able to track down anything and anyone, with ease—Piltover wasn’t exactly a large city after all.

But as he stood outside your new apartment, his stomach churned. The weight of everything he had avoided saying hung over him like a dark storm cloud. He had no idea how this would play out—what could he even say? That he hadn’t been able to think straight since the night you’d come to him? That he’d wanted to be there for you, but had no clue how to navigate what had happened between you both?

But before he could completely lose his nerve, the door to the apartment opened, and you appeared.

You looked… tired. Your hair was pulled back in a messy up-do, and your shirt was slightly wrinkled, but there was something comforting about the chaos surrounding you. Not wanting to stare , his golden eyes quickly drifting to the space behind you. It was clearly your place now, your sanctuary, but it was still a work in progress.

You saw him before he could even open his mouth to say anything, and a flicker of surprise crossed your face. “Jayce? What are you—”

“I—uh, I came to check on you,” he said, running a hand through his hair, suddenly awkward. His nervous gaze switching back and forth between you and the wood on your door. “See how you’re doing… with the new place and everything.”

You raised an eyebrow but stepped aside, allowing him to enter. “Well,” you said with a tired half-smile, “it’s been a lot of work. Still don’t know where half my things are.”

Jayce chuckled as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His mind reeling at how your presence suddenly made him feel less anxious, like he didn’t have to carry his burdens anymore . Not here, not now.

You motioned toward a pile of boxes in the corner of the living room, your smile sheepish, almost apologetic. “You wouldn’t happen to be good at putting together furniture, would you?”

Without a second thought, Jayce was moving toward the pile, rolling up his sleeves with a quiet determination. “I can manage,” he said with a grin, glancing back at you. “But only if you promise not to laugh at my attempts.”

You smirked, feeling a flicker of warmth in your chest. “No promises,” you teased, but there was a lightness in your voice now where tiredness had been before.

For the next few hours, the two of you worked side by side, not really talking, but filling the space between you with easy silence. There was something almost intimate in the simplicity of it—a shared task, each moment feeling like it stitched something new into the fabric of your newfound connection. The screech of a screwdriver, the soft clink of metal against wood, and the occasional, shared chuckle when one of you fumbled—it was like you were building something together, but not just the furniture. It was this. Whatever it was that had started to grow between you.

You worked in rhythm, so comfortable with him that it didn’t even feel strange. You caught yourself looking up at him a few times, watching the way he moved, how the muscles in his arms flexed when assembling the pieces and silently admiring the way the light caught the lines of his face. Jayce wasn’t just the scientist, the bold, sometimes aloof figure you'd known—here, in this space, he felt… real. Vulnerable, even. The arrogant mask you had become so accustomed to had slipped away, leaving only the person beneath. And for the first time, you saw him as someone who was just as human as you.

When the last piece of furniture was assembled, both of you collapsed onto the couch. The apartment was still a mess, but somehow, it felt more like home now. After hours of unpacking, moving boxes, and trying to make sense of the chaos, you and Jayce had both reached a kind of quiet, shared exhaustion. There was something about the way the late afternoon light filtered through the windows—golden and warm—that made everything feel a little less overwhelming.

Jayce was beside you on the couch, leaning back against the cushions with his sleeves still rolled up, hair unkempt and his face still a little flushed from the work. Normally, by now you’d be bickering with each other, exchanging sarcastic remarks til one of you would have enough and storm out of the room. But ever since your distraught form had stormed into his lab, that usual dynamic was missing. The crackling back-and-forth had faded into something quieter, something more... honest.

“So, this is it, huh?” you said, glancing around the room. It was a mix of completed and incomplete, a snapshot of a new beginning. “Still a long way to go, but... it’s getting there.”

Jayce surveyed the room, his gaze lingering on the boxes and the half-finished furniture scattered around. “It’s... definitely not what I expected,” he said, his lips twitching into a smile. “You still got a ton of stuff for someone who has been robbed.” You laughed lightly, but it wasn’t a tense laugh like it would have been just a few days ago. It was more... genuine.

The silence stretched a little longer, and you found yourself thinking about how easily you used to hide behind the jabs and insults. You had both spent so much time pretending—pretending that you couldn’t stand each other, pretending like there was nothing more beneath the surface. But nevertheless, despite years of constant back and forth, Jayce had been the one your heart had led you to when your mind was in a state of absolute panic.

“You know, I’ve spent a lot of time pretending,” you said softly, looking at him from the corner of your eye. “Pretending like we couldn’t get along, pretending like I didn’t... care.”

Jayce’s eyes flicked over to you, something unreadable in his gaze. For a moment, he didn’t respond, allowing the truth to settle between you.

“I think I was pretending, too,” he said finally, his voice low and honest. “Pretending I didn’t want... this.” He gestured loosely between you two, his hand hovering in the air, as if the words were more difficult to articulate than the feelings behind them.

There it was. That truth you had both danced around for so long. And now, it didn’t feel awkward. It felt like a breath you both had been holding ever since Jayce had comforted you that fateful night, waiting for the right moment to exhale.

You turned toward him, your body instinctively moving closer. You didn’t have to think about it. The space between you was just too small now, too important to leave empty. As if by reflex, your hand reached out, softly brushing his arm, letting your fingers rest gently against his. The touch was tentative at first but you felt him respond instantly—his hand turning slightly, his fingers seeking yours, meeting you halfway.

It was subtle, a small connection that sent a rush of warmth through you. Neither of you said anything. The words didn’t feel necessary anymore. Jayce shifted a little, his knee brushing against yours, his hand gently drawing you closer. He wasn’t in a rush. You weren’t either. But as the space between you closed even more, something shifted, and you both knew the moment was right.

Jayce’s thumb traced along the back of your hand, his touch light but deliberate. Slowly, he turned toward you, his body leaning in, and you could feel his breath on your lips before his mouth even touched yours. It wasn’t a desperate move, but one full of quiet intent, like this was something that had been building between you for far too long.

His lips met yours gently at first—just a soft brush, testing, as though waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. Neither of you did. The kiss deepened, slowly, naturally. His hand moved to your jaw, tilting your head slightly as his other hand slid around your waist, his electric touch finding its way underneath your shirt, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body against yours felt so right, so easy, just like it had back in the lab when he had shielded you from your troubles, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You melted into him. There was no rush, no hesitation now. Just the soft pressure of his lips on yours, the tender way his hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if memorizing the feel of of your skin underneath his fingertips.

When you pulled back, there was no immediate rush to fill the space with words. The air between you felt charged, but in a quiet, intimate way. You both breathed deeply, your lips tingling from the kiss, your pulse still racing a marathon in your chest.

Jayce’s hand lingered on your waist, his thumb absently tracing circles on your skin. “Guess we don’t have to pretend to not like each other anymore,” he murmured, his voice hushed, almost unsure, like the weight of everything was finally settling in. You shook your head slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips as your hand found his again. “No. I guess not.”

Jayce leaned back into the couch, his body angled closer to yours now. His eyes twinkled with that familiar teasing glint, but there was something new in the way he looked at you. Something lighter. “So, dinner? I think I’ve earned it.”

You chuckled, your fingers still intertwined with his as you stood. “You’ve already helped me move half my furniture, Jayce. You’re definitely sticking around.”

He flashed you a relaxed grin, leaning back against the couch with a satisfied sigh. “Guess I don’t have a choice.”

Letting go of his hand, you turned toward the kitchen, starting to gather ingredients, and Jayce followed you, leaning in just enough to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Need any help?”

You glanced at him with a smile. “Unless you’ve got a Hextech gadget to chop vegetables, I’ve got it under control.”

Jayce chuckled and stepped back, settling in at the table as you started to prepare a meal. There was something comforting in his quiet presence, in the easy rhythm of the evening. You moved around each other effortlessly, the space between you filled with warmth rather than words.

Soon enough, you set the table and sat down together, the simple meal feeling more like a shared moment than just food. Jayce took a bite, then raised an eyebrow in approval. “I’m impressed. Didn’t expect you to be this good at it.”

You laughed, your fingers brushing his as you reached for your drink. “I’m full of surprises.” He smiled at that, his eyes lingering on your face , as if trying to capture the moment.

After dinner, you started to clear the table and do the dishes when Jayce moved to help. You smiled and gently took the dish towel from his hands. “I’ve got this,” you said softly. He gave you a mock pout in return. “I was just getting into it.” Looking up at him, you smiled fondly at his behaviour. “You’ve done enough for today.”

Jayce stepped closer, golden eyes soft as his hand reached out for the towel again. “I don’t mind,” he murmured, his warmth filling the tiny space of your kitchen and wrapping around you like a safety blanket.

“Thanks,” you whispered, cheeks burning with a soft blush as you suddenly felt the quiet comfort of his presence in a way that made everything else feel far away.

Jayce leaned in to brush a kiss against your forehead, light but sincere. “Anytime.”

And just like that, everything felt perfectly in place.

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cherie-doll · 2 days ago

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𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: They're Your Bodyguards (Royalty x Knight AU Part #2)

𖠁 Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

❦ Based off this hc I had written a while back

Price

He upholds his noble promises, he wouldn't ever dare to wander too close into your life

With every string tugging at his heart, he restrains the overwhelming feelings, he remembers the oaths he's made

To keep in this way was dancing death's waltz

Oh, but your soft silhouette blending in the foliage with the aura of golden sun was refreshing like morning dew, how is it possible for the human heart to long for something it has never had? We dream of a haven, but is there hardly one on this earth?

He longs to have what is restricted, maybe what has been out of reach has always appealed to us, since children we want what is above us, as young people we crave what makes us feel alive, and in our limited existence we continue to search for it

It was all forsaken; what was left unsaid, the silent sentiment, the shared glances that were neither given nor taken, for nothing was accidental nor hidden between the both of you... only guarded

Ghost

Here is another fool, one who thinks love is a controlled emotion, have pity on him!

The only salvation he can be found guilty of on base of selfishness is imagining you imagining him, secretly he loses himself in fantasies of a future that can never be

He hath nothing but muted passion for you

And from the silence, is it possible to determine the outcome? It does nothing more but to hurt one's feelings, does the bearer more hurt than partaking in improper fantasies, for it is all in vain and a reaching for and grasping at the wind

In the end the happiest fool is miserable, the most disciplined king conquers nothing, and the bravest knight afraid of battle

What pain for nothing!

Soap

Not a word from your lips heard, not a touch felt nor a sensation given, but those eyes speak for the entire soul

This story doesn't have to be a tragedy, because no matter what it will never end the way everybody wants it to, "vivamus, moriendum est", but you'll let yourselves live blissfully

Nothing can stifle his silent joy, his merry face goes about all day desirous of crushing you with a million acts of affection

The mindless dialogue he recites, staring off into nothing as he finds your capricious eyes shining like a glow the lake flashes at the evening sun

He'll find beauty in your entire being and relate it to things because if one day, you find each other a long way off, the sentiment will remain and the earth will remember you and remind him

Gaz

What's forbidden only makes the temptation greater, hm?

With such yearning and softening of his eyes does he gaze at you, it's a feeling that's so heavy and present in the air it's impossible to ignore, an energy only igniting between you both

He's engulfed in dreams of what could be, but surely it's not all just a figment of his imagination, to a certain point you mirror his thoughts

The emotions that won't stop growing rise to the surface and threaten to breakthrough, ruining his discipline, yet are always present and showing through every act and small interaction with you

The brushing against one another, the whispers that want to turn into screams, the heart begging to be let out

Roach

It had been dawning on him, a premonition of sorts in the air since he started serving your family, as if it was destined to happen

Now as he gazes up at you from his head lying on your lap, your bodies hidden from view by the tall hedges and vines in the garden, he almost melts at the sight of you

Even if the weather isn't favorable, you walk hand in hand, free of worries for an evening or night, it feels as if the sky could be never-changing and the circumstance always right

And as he reflects back on this years later, he remembers it fondly, though now gone and far away from one another, he gathers these memories and wonders if there was no ending to it, would you two have kept laughing innocently?

He would let your name slip from his lips one last time as if calling you softly into the fading sunlight

Alejandro

Every time you cross paths after meeting and loving in secret it is like the morning after a heavy torrent of rain, you cannot hide the smiles breaking out onto your faces, nor the fidgeting of hands wanting to embrace each other

An impulse so strong that it can barely be contained when he gazes deep within your cherub eyes, your lashes fluttering as the shimmering sunlight reflects on water, this scene all too perfect

Curiously, he will gaze at you and construct the most beautiful verses he seriously believes he would have made a great poet

You're everything he's held dear, not only does he love tenderly but deeply, you hit every feeling spot within him unveiling a new world

Rudy

Oh, but he's so respectful, so contained, so true to his word, until he finds himself alone in your chambers, faced with an order he has the right to deny or be a little selfish

For once he is given choice and it is difficult to remember his priorities

How could he deny? When you're murmuring so softly, and you're welcoming him so well, making the weight on his shoulders feel lighter even if it's a false feeling only for a little while

He'll cherish that moment for a lifetime, because for once he's known what heaven feels like, smiling easier and more often

His mind drifting back to you, you're unforgettable, not just a fleeting moment but an experience

Phillip Graves

He looks curiously at what is before him; the kingdom's precious flower, and as he gazes he becomes entranced in a thread that with time will become too hard to be undone by a single pull

It starts out as a foolish act but soon grows into much more, but was he ready for what came with it? The yearning, the sensitivity and vulnerability he was exposing himself to?

With every look that gained new meaning and lost their playfulness, you became all too attached and duty no longer was first

Perhaps this was the beginning of your descent, your spiraling into doom and recklessness, crumbling and giving in to your heart who beats so wildly only once in this ephemeral sentiment

Makarov

The repetitive phrase that leaves your lips every time, "we can't do this" or "we shouldn't", always the regret setting in after saying you've let go

And frankly, he doesn't care nor does he care whether you completely let go of it or not, it'll be your stone to carry, not his

Just feel the pull between you, focus on the fact that you're in his arms right now, your royal attire loosely around your shoulders and your worries and responsibilities should be a mile off by now

Concentrate on what you feel, he's trying to remind you, there is nothing selfish in enjoying the sensations for a little while

Or is he trying to put his conscience at ease with these words he tells you? What a reflection of his soul they are, and what truth do they carry

Keegan

You find him deeply captivating and intriguing, you feel bad for having so much curiosity for him

In a room full of people and yet you always wonder if he's there among the crowd, and with so much noise in the world does he stop and listen for your voice?

So dreamlike were these short moments of delight it must've been a dream, you met only at midnight behind heavy velvet curtains that obscured all light

You could only feel with your fingertips and hear soft murmurs that you tried to memorize, you would later pray in your tucked corner of the room, whispering softly into your blankets that it was real

Someone felt for you and the memories had really happened

König

The brooding figure that wishes he had the privilege of learning about you without repercussions, without that nagging thought of it coming back to bite at him

To color in the blank spaces of unknown, wishing to reside in the intimacy of your heart and mind, to navigate what is familiar

The blossoming interest in you reflecting in his eyes, making you feel a strange sense of safety when with him, a calming feeling that you welcome too well when in his presence you find rare to recreate when alone

Not even castle walls could grant as much security as he could, they were old and empty, standing many years and guarding many families before you, it was only a false sense of security that had been handed down to you

But he, he was your own, your own to cherish and love for now and even if his love wasn't a family heirloom to pass down maybe that was fine, let yourself hold this selfishness close to your chest

Horangi

A gambling game he is playing, it's as if he has a thing for chasing after what is not secure nor certain, but that's what makes it appealing

He doesn't stick much to rules, if he does it's only for a short time until he finds his own way of doing things, he was never concerned with playing the game fair

So he's not hesitant nor does he shy from trying risky things with you, it's all a game to him

The momentum only increasing as the stakes rise and he finds himself almost tying his fate to you, wanting for once in his life a secure future he can be sure to have, to reach out for and receive

Nikto

The craving for something different and rattling came to you when you discovered his tarnished past

It was so different to what you knew, and maybe it was in that darkness and chaos that you found comfort, a world you wanted him to share with you, more intimate than any touch

More erotic and through-provoking were his shards of soul revealed to you than an affair, and his growing confusion at how easily he shared parts of him with you

A hidden memory arising from the depths of his mind, trying to show him how comforting it felt to be perceived for what you were, he wanted to indulge in it a little longer each time

He knew his desires and dreams wouldn't change a thing in his life, but this peace freed him from the chains that had been weighing heavy, he felt lighter and allowed himself to long for someone

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saphiccarma · 2 days ago

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- The Red Means I Love You

Relationships - Mob Boss!WandaNat x Reader

Summary - Natsha isn't very happy when she finds out about what happened at your last outing and you aren't very happy with the result of your latest mission

Warnings: mentions of sex. Murder of side characters. Let me know if I missed any

Pt.1 Pt. 2

You woke up slowly, first registering the lack of bodies around you, and sat up. Blinking away sleep, you pouted when you noticed Natasha and Wanda were gone from bed. Your thighs ached as you slid out of the bed and threw on an oversized shirt and snagged your discarded panties off the floor. Memories of last night made your cheeks heat as you made your way down the stairs.

Natasha firm grip, her slender fingers, her hot breath in your ear. It left you breathless all over again.

Wanda hadn't participated, supposedly away on some task, but she had come back once you were finished, slipping into the bed next to you. You had tensed, wondering if you should leave, but Natasha had only tightened her grip around your waist and pulled you closer. You think at some point you had snuggled up to Wanda, but you could hardly remember.

It had been a week since you had that weird encounter with that woman in the alley, but you had failed to mention it to Natasha, scared of her reaction. You had said the cut was a mere result of your clumsiness, but you could tell that Natasha didn't fully believe you.

Taking soft steps down the stairs, you meandered into the kitchen. Natasha sat at the counter, her arms crossed as she leaned forward and Wanda stood at the stove, a spatula in hand as she flipped some pancakes. Natasha's head jerked in your direction; a smirk firmly planted on her lips. You made your way over to her, letting out a surprised sound when she gripped your hips and pulled you into her lap.

You squirmed for a moment, getting comfortable, before settling. Her head rested on your shoulder, and you could smell her perfume. Warm breath fanned across your neck as she placed a tender kiss there. You hummed in content, tilting your chin to the side as she pressed another kiss on your neck.

"Sleep well?" she asked, her hands moving from your hips to rest on your thighs, rather high up. You wiggled in her lap, unsure if you were able to do this right now, but Natasha pinned you down.

You forced an answer past your lips, brain still foggy with sleep, "Yeah."

She hummed in content with your answer and pressed a soft kiss to your neck again. Wanda rolled her eyes as she faced the two of you, turning off the stove and reaching up to grab a plate out of the cabinets.

"Breakfast is ready if you're done teasing her Natasha," Wanda gave you a look that could be described as pity, but you also detected amusement in her eyes. You blushed deeply, your cheeks a light shade of pink.

Natasha groaned dramatically against your neck before placing one last kiss and releasing you with a pat on your thigh. You hopped off her lap, legs shaky beneath you, and grabbed a plate off the counter. You loaded a couple pancakes onto it and grabbed a couple sausages that you just now noticed. Wanda and Natasha followed, placing food on their own plates, and you sat down on the table. It was silent as you dug into your food. The quiet was somewhat uncomfortable, but also nice.

You shifted in your seat while you finished the rest of your food, clearing your throat awkwardly, and Natasha glanced up. She cast a sideways glance at Wanda who hardly paid her attention as you poked around the crumbs on your plate. Licking your lips, you peeked at Natasha, hesitance shimmering in your eyes.

"If you have something to say, say it," Wanda sighed, fixing you with a stern look.

You flushed, dipping your head back down, "Uhm- I maybepossiblygotsnuckuplastweek." When you were given two exasperated looks that told you neither women understood your gibberish, you cleared your throat once more, and quietly mumbled, "I got snuck up on last week."

There was a tense silence that enveloped the room, and you could feel the anger radiating off of Natasha in waves. Out of the corner of your eye you saw her gripping her knife tightly, and Wanda was clenching her jaw. You fidgeted in your seat, shifting and bouncing your leg as you waited for an answer. Natasha had trained you better than that, you were meant to be able to handle yourself.

"Who?" her voice was low, filled with a sharp danger that cut through the silence.

"I'm not sure," you shrugged, but that clearly wasn't the right answer because her glare turned to you and you scrambled for a response, "It was a woman, she had a knife."

Realization clicked in Natasha's eyes, and you could tell she was angry at you now. You sunk into your seat, shoulders rising to your ears, and lips pursing nervously. She shoved out of her seat with a harsh exhale of air and stomped up the stairs. You sat frozen in your seat, listening to her unusually heavy footsteps upstairs, before she came storming down and was out the door in a flash. Wanda spent the whole time casually finishing her food, seemingly not caring for her wife's sharp temper.

When Natasha left, Wanda glanced up at you, a pitying smirk playing on her lips, "She just cares," her voice was light, but it held a tone of warning, "She'll be expecting you later."

You nodded, somewhat numbly, and cleared your plate. Heading upstairs, you got dressed in your clothes from last night, choosing to wear fresh clothes when you got back to base, and prepared to spend the day with an angry Natasha.

^_____________^

The wooden floor was warm as it pressed up against your stomach, a thin cat suit the only thing in between, as you stared down the scope of your rifle. A shaky exhale escaped you as you adjusted it once more. Natasha stood below, her arms uncrossed, one propped on her hip and the other dangling. She looked frightening with her red lipstick that shone in the pale light and her hair pulled into a tight ponytail. She wore tight clothing, not too tight, but if you looked closely, you could see all her curves outlined.

Bucky stood next to her, his arms crossed and metal fingers glinting. He wore a gun strapped around his back, unashamed, while Natasha's were hidden in her boots. She was making a trade deal with Tony Stark, or at least, it was supposed to be that. Supposedly, he had agreed to give Natasha the money, but for some reason you didn't believe it. In the one instance you had met the man, he seemed prideful, unwilling to surrender to Natasha so easily.

Which was the reason you sat up in the rafters, hands clenched tightly around a gun, and one eye closed as you exhaled slowly. You were backup. Although you highly doubted that it would be needed, Natasha was perfectly capable of caring for herself, and Bucky was an absolute machine when he had to be. The door to the building open, a man in a black suit entering. His goatee instantly helped you label him as Stark, and two people trailed behind him. You hadn't seen them before, but they both had handguns strapped to their thighs, and large, bulky statures. One of them carried a suitcase.

You saw Natasha raise a perfect brow; annoyance written across her face. You could tell by her clenched jaw and fisted hand. She had given Stark the explicit instruction to bring no one, and if there were two then there had to be more. Your heart picked up in speed as Tony neared your boss and you saw Bucky's stance tense.

"Stark," she greeted starkly (pun intended), "Do you have the money?" Her tone was clipped, sharp and impatient. It was clear she wanted nothing more than to leave. Since that morning, Natasha had been in a snappy mood and had hardly spoken to you aside from ordering you onto this mission.

Your finger hovered over the trigger as Stark waved his hands around dramatically, "You could say that."

One of the men with the briefcase stepped closer, hauling the luggage to be propped up in his arms, and despite him being occupied, you still rested your pointer on the trigger. He was awfully close to Natasha. The butt of the gun dug into your shoulder from how much you leaned forward. The briefcase was popped open with a satisfying click that even you heard from your perch, but you could hardly see what was inside. Based on Natasha and Bucky's reaction, it was something interesting.

Your breath caught in your throat as Natasha took a step closer, her upper lip curling in distaste. Wiggling so that you leaned over the edge a bit more, you tried to peer into the box, but the lid was still obscuring your view.

"A brand-new arm," Stark gestured again, pride carrying through his tone, "For your little dog."

You could see Bucky conceal a flinch, his eyes hardening and shoulders tensing. Natasha looked up at Stark slowly.

"I asked for money, Stark." She spat his name like it was poison, a curse. The man shrugged flippantly, scoffing. He clearly had no regard for his life, addressing Natasha like that.

He placed a hand over his heart, "I'm hurt. I made this just for you and you don't want it?"

The man behind him shifted his hand to his gun. Your own finger pressed down on the trigger. Taking a deep breath, you aimed the gun towards him. Aim small miss small. You didn't actually want to shoot him; it was just a precaution if he tried anything. Natasha stepped forward, past the briefcase, and grabbed a fistful of Stark's shirt.

You hardly had time to process before you heard a gunshot ring out. For a moment you thought it was one of your people getting shot, but instead Bucky had shot the man with the gun. The one with the briefcase had dropped it, the object falling to the floor with a thud, and his hand was on his gun. Before you could think, your gun was swiveling in his direction and your finger was pressing down on the cold trigger.

The gun sounded off loudly in your ears as you watched the bullet whiz through the air. It pierced the man's head, blood splattering everywhere, even against Bucky's cheek. The brunette looked up at you, shocked, before nodding in approval.

"I'll be getting my money," Natasha snarled, her face right up in Stark's, both unfazed by the two deaths, "Whether I have to force you or not."

She dropped him to the floor, and you faintly saw the man roll his eyes. Natasha turned around, stomping off with Bucky following. Scrambling from your perch, you made your way down. There was a ringing in your ears and a haze coming over your mind.

You had killed a man. Numbly, you climbed into the car, your hands shaking as you buckled yourself and placed the gun next to you. Bucky and Natasha were unfazed by the blood that stained their clothes, the latter too caught up in her rage to notice your current state. You stared down at your hands. You had killed a man. He was going to kill Natasha. But you killed him. His blood had splashed out painting the floor with red droplets, and it stuck to Bucky's chin. You risked a glance up. Red specks dotted his face and there were a few on Natasha's clothes. Your hands were shaking violently.

Desperately, you clenched them into fists, trying to get the shaking to stop. Your rifle laid across the seat next to you.

Natasha had said you would have to kill. She said it wouldn't be easy; it would be shocking. But you hadn't expected it to rock you to your bones and send such a strong feeling through you. A man was dead because of you.

You had killed someone. The thought made your heart clench and you suppressed the thick lump in your throat.

He could have had a wife and kids. He could have- he could have- Your breathing increased rapidly. You tried to reign it in, calm yourself, and it just barely worked, allowing you to keep it together temporarily. In your dazed state, you hardly noticed the way the car was going until it pulled into Natasha's parking lot and the redhead was guiding you out of the car. Her hands were firm against you trembling form as she whispered soft words into your ear.

You heard Wanda ask a question, but the words were no more than nonsense to you. You had killed a man. It was inevitable, you knew that, but it still made anguish pulse through your veins. It was to protect Natasha, you told yourself, although the words did little to snap you out of your state. Guiding you up the stairs, Natasha put you on the bed, disappearing for a moment. Water started flowing in the bathroom. A bath.

She came back a moment later, helping you strip off your clothes as you stared into space, before leading you into the bath. She tried to dip you down into it, but you clung to her stubbornly.

"сердечко," she sighed, her voice unusually soft, "You smell, let me give you a bath. It'll help."

Whining, you shook your head, clinging to her even more. You weren't sure what you wanted, but letting go of her certainly wasn't it. With an exasperated sigh, Natahsa wrangled herself out of your tight grip just enough so that she could wiggle out of her own clothes. You didn't even stop to pause and stare per usual, instead letting her lower both of you into the tub. Natasha spread her legs and let you sit in front of her, her hands splaying across your stomach.

She placed a tender kiss to your temple, "Let's get you washed up."

Her slender fingers were gentle as she washed you up, lathering shampoo in your hair and then rinsing it out only to be replaced with conditioner. Her hands roamed all over you in no way sexual as she scrubbed your body down. You soaked up her care, lost in your thoughts as you stared numbly into the distance.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Her voice was soft and light in your ear, breath cold in contrast to the water.

You processed her question just enough to shake your head. Gently, her arms wrapped around you, and she pepper kisses to your neck. It was comforting, having her so close. There was no sexual intent to her movements, merely trying her best to provide a source of comfort that she didn't know how to give. The two of you sat in the tub until the water was cooling and Natasha's lips were turning blue and her teeth chattered. The famed mob boss didn't have the heart to force you out.

Your head lay against her shoulder, eyes fluttering shut every now and then, and chest rising and falling with content. It was moments later when Wanda entered, two fluffy towels in hand, and a slight frown on her face. She took in her wife's state and clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth.

"становится мягким?" The younger redhead tilted her head as she crouched next to the tub. (Going soft?)

Natasha glared at her as she shook her head. Wanda sighed but took hold of you under your armpits, ignoring your frustrated whines and attempts to cling to Natasha, and wrapped you up in the blanket. Time passed quickly after that, and when you were finally coming out of your daze, you were wrapped up in a warm blanket, a large hoodie draped across your shoulders, and pressed into Natasha's side.

You both lay on your sides, a hand slung over your waist as well, which you identified as Wanda's, and your breath caught in your throat. Natahsa must have noticed the light return to your eyes because she smiled down at you, her own eyes twinkling. A brief kiss was placed on your nose.

"I killed a man," you whispered, your voice raw and vulnerable. Saying the words out loud made the realization hit hard. You killed someone. What gave you the right? He could have had a life. A wife. Kids. People who loved him and cared about him, yet you disposed of him in mere seconds. Who were you to make that decision?

"Hey," Natasha's hand cupped your chin, tilting your face to look her in the eyes, "You were doing your job." Her words did little to comfort you, but when she pulled you closer, burying you into her, and Wanda pressed herself up against you, that helped. You sighed, somewhat content, and pushed away your emotional turmoil. "I'm proud of you."

You swallowed down the discomfort you felt as those words, instead humming happily and placing a soft kiss to her neck.

Taglist: @macaroni676 @gaylorvader @ashadash0904

#natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you

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inubaki · 3 days ago

Text

Taking What’s His

Chapter 3

-warning for Adam and Lucifer Smut and Impreg-

—a commission I bought from @libby-for-life! Art from @sir-tater-of-the-tot!

——

The first thing Adam felt was the heat. He wasn't awake to process it, but his skin was still affected by it. The hot air whipped at his hair and face, mind too clouded to realize he was falling. Claws gripped him hard as he felt the heat increase the further they fell. His veins felt like they were dipped in lava, his forehead aching like it was being split in two. Adam couldn't even cry out as they hit the unfamiliar terrain with enough force to crack the ground.

Those clawed hands dug deep into his side, a piercing pain that jolted Adam from his disoriented fall. He blinked slowly, his mind struggling to piece together the fragmented memories of Lucifer’s abduction. What had transpired in those chaotic moments? His surroundings swirled in a haze, the air thick with humidity, clinging to his skin like a suffocating shroud. Something slivered out of the corner of his eye and in a panic he looked up.

Adam let out a panicked scream as he was confronted by the unmistakable eyes of Lucifer, piercing him with an intensity that sent chills down his spine. The smile that followed was both unnerving and captivating, revealing a set of sharp, glistening teeth that seemed to gleam in the dim light. "Adam...you're awake," Lucifer purred, his voice a low, melodic tone that dripped with both faux sweetness and menace. He was oozing sexual desire.

Adam, heart racing and his breath coming in jagged gasps, found himself frozen on the ground. Each ragged inhalation intensified the fear coursing through him as he took in Lucifer's transformed visage. The figure before him was more formidable than he remembered—his horns had grown exponentially, twisting upward in a dark, imposing crown that emphasized both his power and his malevolence. Deep crimson eyes glowed like coals, full of anger and malevolence yet carried a soft look, locking onto Adam with a predatory intensity.

He had large fangs that reminded Adam of a snake, the largest dragon wings he'd ever seen, and pale red scales dotting his white skin.

A sharp tail, sinuous and agile, writhed behind Lucifer as if it were an extension of his will, driven by a restless energy that mirrored the tension in the strange place he woke up in. Adam's body felt heavy and uncooperative as if the weight of his own fear and the surreal reality before him had rendered him helpless. It was a terrifying moment, suspended in time, where Adam could only watch as the embodiment of darkness loomed ever closer.

"I'm relieved to see that you're finally awake," Lucifer whispered, his voice low and edged with an intensity that sent shivers down Adam's spine. He leaned closer, a predatory glint in his eyes, as a clawed hand reached out to grasp Adam's face. The tips of the claws grazed his skin, sharp enough to threaten but not quite breaking through the surface; there was an undeniable tension in the air as Lucifer held back as if wrestling with some inner turmoil.

Adam's heart raced, a mixture of fear and confusion swirling within him. ‘This was all wrong!’ his brain struggled to come to terms with reality. His Eden, his triumph- But shroud of the last of Lucifer’s blues burned the last his denial like wisps in Hell’s forever red skies. They both had Fallen. He could hardly form words as he whimpered, the sound escaping his lips before he could check himself. Lucifer's expression twisted in a disquieting blend of possessiveness and rage. "You were going to leave me? Abandon me?" he hissed, his breath hot against Adam’s cheek. "Who gave you the right, Adam?"

As the demon drew even nearer, his eyes darkened to a deeper shade of crimson, a vivid reflection of his simmering anger that intensified with every word. Adam could only shake his head, paralyzed by fear and desperation, aware that the fragile line between affection and violence was ready to snap in an instant.

"You have no idea how much I want to hurt you for doing that," Lucifer growled before sighing. He smiled at Adam as if he didn't just threaten him. "But no matter...now we're together. Like it was meant to be." He said it with such a firm voice that Adam knew he would never be able to argue with the demon. The clawed hand holding his face harshly let go, gently brushing the skin. "And my...you've certainly changed...I like the look."

Adam's eyebrows furrowed but he didn't get to speculate those words as Lucifer grinned down at him. "It seems the Fall burned your clothes. Lucky me~." Adam tried to stop Lucifer but a swift bite to his neck made him cry out in pain. "No. You're not going to take what's mine, Adam." Adam could only whimper as the strong clawed hand wrapped around his dick, massaging it roughly. Adam cried out, not having the energy to even muffle the noise he was making.

"How dare you try to leave? And for that harlot?" Lucifer growled between peppering his face with kisses, his lips feeling like coal on his already hot skin. "That woman doesn't know the first thing about you, Adam. Not like I do." A sharp bite on the cheek made Adam cry out. "She doesn't understand what you need. What we need. Someone like her doesn't deserve you."

"And you do?" Adam managed to get out. Lucifer's eyes darkened as he snarled. "Yes. I do deserve you. How can you even ask me that?!" He pinned Adam down, not caring that he was agitating Adam's injuries. "I gave you my first time, Adam! I don't want anyone else to have you and I don't want anyone else either!"

Adam struggled to get out of the vicious hold but this only seemed to make Lucifer angrier. He let another growl, smoke leaving his mouth as he said, "Enough talk. Perhaps I just need to prove it to you." That's when Adam noticed the appendages hanging from Lucifer's crotch. His eyes widened at just how big and girthy it was, far too heavy to do anything other than hang low. To make matters more horrifying, there were two. Lucifer had two dicks and a dripping pussy to match.

Lucifer smirked down at him, hot saliva dripping out of his maw as his sharp teeth started to grow. Adam wasn't prepared for what happened next. He was flipped onto his stomach, the wings he didn't even realize he had flapping wildly at the sharp turn of his body, and he felt a wet thick tongue slip inside him.

It was then Adam realized he also had a pussy.

Adam cried out at the intrusion, not prepared for such a thing but let out an involuntary moan as the tongue brushed a particular bundle of nerves. He tried to force himself not to rock into that tongue but judging from the deep and mean chuckle leaving Lucifer, Adam was failing miserably.

"See? That woman you tried leaving me for could never do this." Lucifer said before biting the large globes of flesh in front of him. Adam moaned harder, tears spilling over at how rough Lucifer was being. He loved what he was feeling, even if a part of him still wanted to run as fast as he could. To get as far away from the twisted version of his former friend.

Lucifer, as if reading his thoughts, bit his thighs in retaliation. "You're mine! You can run Adam. You can try. You might even manage to escape for a little while. But I will never stop hunting you because of this. You. Are. MINE!"

The demon plunged one of his dicks into him and Adam yelled, screaming at the stretch but moaning all the same. Lucifer took him rough and fast, not giving him any time to adjust before adding in the second cock. "Lucifer!" Adam slurred out, a sizable bump appearing in his stomach as the demon fucking him bruised his cervix.

"Don't try to deny it!" Lucifer growled as he noticed the pain-filled pleasure in Adam's eyes. "I can feel your desires! You want this! But you're afraid to allow yourself to want it." Lucifer's claws pierced his hips as the demon continued to fuck him.

"You're mine Adam! Say it!"

"I'm yours!" Adam cried as Lucifer came into him. The First Human could feel the dicks blow its load inside him, coating his womb in fertile seed. Lucifer finished off with one more bite to his throat before slipping out of him. He shoved the semen back in, determined to tie Adam to him in the most intimate way possible. Adam moaned, his oversensitive pussy quivering as those fingers entered him.

Adam sighed when they left him. Despite feeling satisfied, Adam was tired and could feel his muscles burn at the thought of moving at all. He half expected Lucifer to shove the same forbidden fruit between his lips. To desert him in their shared fluids as he once done.

But Lucifer wasn't done with him. Adam groaned as he was rolled onto his back and Lucifer's grinning face came into view. "It's my turn now, Adam." His turn? Adam moaned, tears picking his eyes Lucifer began to rub his dick back to full mast.

"My turn...to think that I could have lost this. That you would have taken it away..." Lucifer growled before showing Adam his dripping honeypot. Adam's was bigger and more fatter while Lucifer seemed leaner like the rest of him.

He smiled as he gently lowered himself onto Adam, still pinning the First Man to the ground in case he got any ideas of leaving. Lucifer threw his head back, eyes burning red as he felt Adam enter him. "Yes! I missed this!" Lucifer's wings flared around them as he bounced on Adam's cock. Adam grunted at the feeling of a tight pussy around him. It had been so long since he felt like this.

Lucifer was stirring up old emotions within Adam, feelings he had long buried and convinced himself didn’t exist anymore. He had believed he could escape the weight of those emotions in the Garden, naively thinking he could embrace his time with Lucifer without any deeper attachments or complications. Yet, that illusion was quickly shattering. Beneath the surface of his fear, a fragile seed of hope began to take root, quietly blossoming in the depths of his heart. A gentle, persistent voice echoed in his mind, coaxing him to consider the possibility, "Maybe this time it would be different." It was a whisper that ignited a flicker of optimism, challenging the walls he had built around himself for so long.

Adam shoved it back down.

Lucifer continued to fuck himself on Adam, and the First Man was meeting him halfway now until he came inside Lucifer. The demon came around his cock and they both breathed heavily, staring at each other as they climbed down from their high.

Adam didn't know what to do, but he supposed his body did it for him. He passed out.

6 months later:

Adam stirred from a restless sleep, the darkness of the night wrapping around him like a heavy blanket. He took a slow, deliberate breath, focusing on keeping his breathing steady and calm. In his mind, he had meticulously crafted a plan, rehearsing every detail with a determination that bordered on desperation. Tonight was the night he would make his escape.

The opulence of the palace, a grand structure that Lucifer had designed to dazzle and delight, felt suffocating to Adam. Each exquisite ornament and shimmering surface served as a painful reminder of his confinement. It had been six long months since he had been thrust into this realm of torment, and during that time, he had attempted to break free on three separate occasions, each endeavor thwarted by Lucifer’s fierce protectiveness and unyielding fury.

Every time Adam tried to leave, Lucifer's wrath descended upon him like a storm, leaving him feeling more trapped than ever. The combination of anger and possessiveness in Lucifer's eyes shattered any hope Adam had for a future outside the palace walls. Adam could feel the weight of despair creeping into his heart, and it was becoming an unbearable burden.

This immense pressure was taking a toll not just on him, but also on the precious life growing inside him. Adam placed a hand on his abdomen, anguish flooding through him as he thought about the risk he was taking. How could Lucifer be so blind to the damage he was causing? The constant turmoil and fear were toxic, and he knew, deep down, that such relentless stress couldn’t possibly be good for his baby. A sense of urgency pulsed through him; he had to find a way to escape this gilded cage before it was too late.

Adam stared at the sleeping form of the demon sprawled beside him, his heart a mix of frustration and bewilderment. Lucifer, the King of Hell, whose very presence commanded fear and respect from countless souls to come. Yet here he was, seemingly at peace, yet undeniably pregnant as well, a state that only added to Adam’s tumultuous emotions.

Every hour that ticked by felt like a prison sentence. Adam was acutely aware of every moment spent in the lavish confines of the demon's expansive palace, with its opulent furnishings and dark, oppressive beauty. The silence of the room only intensified his irritation. It was maddening to be locked away in this hellish world, forced to play house with a being who was used to having his way with everything and everyone, and who had no concept of the word "no."

Despite the bond that was forming through their impending parenthood, Adam couldn't shake the feeling of being held captive. It was a twisted kind of irony; the man who was to become a parent alongside him was also the very force that kept him from his freedom. Adam’s resolve hardened as he looked at Lucifer, snoring softly, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in Adam’s heart.

Tonight would be different. Tonight, he would make his move. He had a plan, and he was determined to execute it. He would break free from this gilded cage, redefine his destiny, and reclaim his life. No longer would he allow himself to be a reluctant participant in Lucifer’s game.

That night, under the shroud of darkness, Adam had subtly laced Lucifer's drink with a carefully concocted mixture of plants during their dinner. It wasn't anything harmful, not to the powerful demon nor to the life still nestled within him, but rather an expertly mixed elixir designed to lull a creature like Lucifer into a deep, undisturbed slumber. As the hour grew late and the flickering candlelight danced across the room, Adam could see the signs of the concoction taking effect; Lucifer's eyes, usually so full of mischief and fire, began to droop heavily and Adam had suggested they go to bed.

With soft, deliberate movements, Adam slipped out of bed, his heart racing at the thought of what he was about to do. He took care not to disturb Lucifer, who now lay sprawled peacefully, the calm surface of his face a stark contrast to the turbulent waves of anxiety stirring within Adam. He reached for the hastily hidden sack he had prepared—a sturdy leather satchel he had made filled with the essentials for his escape. Inside were the few possessions he could not leave behind: a worn cloak and some provisions.

As he gathered his belongings, Adam cast a lingering glance at the sleeping figure beside him. The drink was doing its job well, weaving a cocoon of tranquility around Lucifer, allowing Adam just enough time to slip away undetected. Quietly, he gathered the last of his things, every rustle of fabric echoing in the stillness of the room, before finally stepping softly toward the door. Adam took a deep breath, the weight of his decision heavy on his shoulders, but he knew he had to seize this fleeting moment of freedom.

Adam should have known that escaping from the palace would not be a simple task. A sense of urgency weighed heavily on him as he navigated the opulent halls, each step feeling more precarious than the last. The echoes of his footsteps reverberated through the corridors, suddenly interrupted by a low, menacing growl that rolled through the air like thunder. Adam's heart raced, panic surging through him as he realized that Lucifer was already awake, and the window of opportunity for his escape was narrowing rapidly.

Despite the considerable burden of six months of pregnancy, a fierce instinct propelled Adam forward. He sprinted down the lavishly adorned corridor, its walls lined with intricate tapestries and gilded mirrors that reflected both his fear and determination. Just as he thought he might make it, a voice pierced the tense silence, filled with emotion. “ADAM!”

He flinched at the sound, spinning around to see Lucifer standing at the far end of the hall. The sight sent a jolt of mixed emotions through him. Lucifer's breath came in ragged gasps, his presence imposing and intense. His eyes—deep pools of swirling anger, fear, and pain—locked onto Adam, creating an electric tension in the air. Adam stood frozen for a moment, torn between the instinct to flee and the pull of the demon he had once known.

Lucifer stepped forward, the weight of his own pregnancy evident in the way he moved, each step slow and deliberate as he approached Adam. The tension hung in the air, thick with anticipation, but Adam felt an unsettling certainty settle in his chest—he had failed in his attempt to escape. He braced himself for the familiar sounds of rage that usually accompanied their encounters: the guttural growls and the fierce, possessive tones that marked Lucifer’s wrath.

To Adam’s shock, however, the scene before him unfolded in a way he had never anticipated. In an unexpected outburst, Lucifer fell to his knees, his large, crimson eyes brimming with tears that shimmered in the dim light around them. His hands clutched desperately at his swollen stomach, as if trying to hold onto something precious yet intangible.

“Why? Why won't you love me?!” he wailed, his voice cracking under the weight of his despair. Each word resonated with a vulnerability that disarmed Adam, leaving him speechless. His heart raced as he took in the sight of this powerful demon, usually so commanding, now reduced to a figure of anguish.

“Haven't I shown you how much I love you?!” Lucifer’s voice carried desperation, echoing through the silence that followed his outburst. Adam’s mind raced, grappling with the depth of his own shock and the turmoil he felt as he looked down at Lucifer. Love had always been a complicated weave between them, but seeing this raw display of emotion turned everything he thought he knew upside down.

"Please... don’t abandon me..." Lucifer pleaded, his voice trembling as he knelt on the ground, desperately crawling toward Adam. Each move was laborious; the weight of his pregnant belly made it difficult, but he pushed through the discomfort, his heart heavy with longing. Finally, he reached Adam’s feet, resting his forehead against the cool ground in a show of vulnerability.

Adam gazed down at the demon, his own feelings swirling in a tumultuous storm. He felt confusion, sorrow, and an undeniable pull toward Lucifer. The sight before him was heartbreaking: Lucifer, usually so proud and formidable, was reduced to this state of desperation, tears streaming down his cheeks as he continued to sob.

"I’m so sorry for keeping you here..." Lucifer continued, his voice cracking with emotion. "But please... I just didn’t want to be alone! I—I love you! You opened my eyes to wonders I never thought were possible in Eden, and yet, time and again, you keep leaving me!" There was a raw honesty in his words, an aching plea that echoed in the silence around them, a testament to the bond they shared, and the fear of losing it all.

A chilling realization swept over Adam as he stood frozen, confronted with the intense emotions radiating from Lucifer. The sight before him stirred something deep within—a haunting echo of his own past in the lush, vibrant expanse of Eden. In that paradise, he had felt an agonizing desperation as he pleaded with Lucifer not to forsake him for Lilith. Now, in this moment, it was as if he was witnessing Lucifer transformed before his very eyes; the mighty being reduced to a quaking shadow of his former self, tears streaming down his face.

Lucifer clung to Adam's legs, his grip fierce and unyielding, a desperate man seeking comfort from him. The vulnerability displayed in that moment struck Adam to his core. He could recall the searing loneliness that had once plagued him, a profound ache that now mirrored Lucifer's own torment. The demon's cries echoed in the silence, a haunting melody of despair that resonated with Adam's understanding of loss and yearning.

Never before had Adam experienced such profound sorrow during his time in Eden, a place where joy usually reigned supreme. But now, witnessing Lucifer in this way, as fragile as freshly fallen leaves trembling in the wind, illuminated a shared pain he never thought he’d recognize in another. The realization filled him with a sense of empathy and understanding, bridging the vast chasm that had once separated them. In that moment, both their hearts bore the weight of their respective histories—bound together by the poignant thread of longing and heartache.

"Oh...oh, Lucifer... it seems we're quite the pair, don't you think?" Adam murmured softly, sinking down to meet Lucifer's gaze at eye level. The demon looked up, his usually fiery eyes now shimmering with vulnerability and regret, his cheeks stained from the tears he had shed moments earlier. Adam was careful to keep their delicate, rounded bellies apart as he pulled Lucifer gently into his embrace, wrapping his arms around him with a tenderness that spoke volumes.

Lucifer gasped in surprise at the sudden warmth of the hug, his breath hitching as he felt the weight of Adam's affection. "Please... please, Adam... don’t leave me," he pleaded, his voice trembling, the sincerity lacing his words evident in every syllable. "I know I messed up. I was wrong to... to act the way I did. To leave you first." The admission hung between them, heavy with the pain of their shared history. As more tears slipped silently from Adam's eyes, he held Lucifer closer, the bond between them pulsing with unspoken understanding and the hope of forgiveness.

In that pivotal moment, a profound revelation washed over Adam like a tidal wave. He understood that he had unwittingly replaced the role of Lucifer’s partner, usurping Lilith’s place by his side in a cosmic dance of power and influence. The weight of this realization sank deep into his core: it was he who had taken the fateful plunge into the abyss, not Lilith, who had long been cast aside.

As he stood there, locked in the dark intensity of Lucifer’s sad gaze, Adam felt a surge of something mixed with an unsettling twinge of happiness. He was the one destined to share in the dominion of chaos and rebellion—a stark contrast to Adam’s silent suffering, his bitterness festering from the betrayal of being left behind. The shadows of their new reality loomed large, yet Adam could not shake the exhilaration of his newfound place.

In this altered timeline, he was no longer a mere pawn; he would become a ruler alongside Lucifer. Together, they could forge a new legacy, one that eclipsed the painful memories of abandonment. He reveled in the knowledge that it was he, not Lilith, who strode beside the Morning Star.

Adam remained silent, his expression a mixture of concern and tenderness, as he carefully gathered Lucifer into his arms. The demon, his body feeling heavy with exhaustion, allowed himself to be cradled, the turmoil of emotions swirling within him like a tempest. Adam's heartbeat echoed softly in his ears, a steady reminder of the warmth and safety found in this moment of closeness.

As they reached their shared bedroom, the familiar scent of soft linen and the dim glow of Hell's light wrapped around them like a comforting embrace. Adam gently laid Lucifer onto the bed, the soft mattress cradling his tired frame. With a deliberate and soothing motion, Adam tucked the sheets around them, ensuring that Lucifer felt secure and protected in their sanctuary.

Looking down at Lucifer, who was struggling to contain the tears welling in his vibrant eyes, Adam's voice broke the silence, gentle yet laced with vulnerability. "I know you love me," he began, his gaze steady and sincere. "But at this moment, I can't say the same." The admission hung heavy in the air, a bittersweet truth that elicited a faint tremor in Lucifer’s chin as the weight of his heartbreak threatened to spill over.

Lucifer’s heart ached, and fresh tears brimmed in his eyes, shimmering like the last rays of sunlight filtering through the window. Yet, before despair could take hold, Adam's hand came up, gently shushing him as if to calm the storm within.

"But," Adam continued, his tone shifting to a hopeful whisper, "I could learn to love you if we do this the right way... okay?" His words wrapped around them, laced with unspoken promise, inviting Lucifer to believe in the possibility of a future forged through understanding and patience.

"Thank you, Adam..." Lucifer whispered, his voice barely rising above the soft rustle of the sheets. As Adam tenderly wiped the tears from Lucifer's cheeks with his thumb, a wave of comfort enveloped them both. Their spirits, worn from the night they had faced, found solace in this quiet moment.

The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls as the light of Hell surrounded them. They were curled together on the bed, exhaustion pulling at their limbs. Adam's heartbeat drummed steadily against Lucifer's side, a soothing rhythm that lulled him into a peaceful state.

Lucifer’s lips curled into a gentle smile in his sleep, the weight of worry lifting from his shoulders. For the first time in months, he felt a flicker of hope that Adam was truly there to stay, that he wouldn't vanish into the pits of Hell.

Adam, too, succumbed to a deep slumber, his brow unfurrowing and the tension in his shoulders easing as he breathed in the familiar scent of Lucifer’s hair. In that intimate embrace, the world outside ceased to exist, and both men drifted off into a serene night, cocooned in each other’s warmth.

——

Pervs:

I wanted to post this so badly. So I’ll post the finished colored page of Tater’s work afterwards. Living in America, I will be very busy in the next two days with Thanksgiving. then I have some of my smaller pictures up for it.

#adamsapple #guitarduck #adam x lucifer #lucifer x adam #traditional art #my art #commission by libby #by sir tater of the tots commission art #I will post the colored version later #Late happy birthday to me #hazbin hotel #Corrupted Lucifer #corrupted Adam

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walkintomymystery · 3 days ago

Text

Fall Into Me

(Set after Sonic 3) Defeated, world-weary, and impossibly lost, Shadow allows himself to be taken back into G.U.N custody. While they decide his fate, he is housed in a secret facility hidden deep in the heart of one of the country's National Parks. Still reeling from the heartbreaks that have shaped his life, Shadow never expected to find the closest thing to a home he'd known in over fifty years.

Pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x Original Female Character

Warnings for this chapter: none!

Chapter Three

It took all his strength to open his eyes.

Shadow immediately knew that something was wrong, but his thoughts were scattered and impossible to retrieve. He even had to remind himself to breathe.

Time seemed to slow as his consciousness coagulated, and all the while he stared at the floor, just trying to remember who he was, where he was, what he was doing there.

Slowly, his senses came back to him, one at a time. The burning heat beating down on his back. The taste of copper under his tongue. The roar of bullets all around him.

Shadow was bent double, kneeling against cold, hard metal. Finally, instinct kicked in and he tried to move, but his wrists were bolted to the floor. The bracers he’d been shackled with were stuck fast to the ground, as if magnetised.

The noise was deafening now, gunfire and screaming, shattering glass and sparking metal. Shadow tried in vain to pin his ears to his head to block it out but nothing helped.

He tried to move again, groaning with the effort, but he was trapped. He wanted to raise his head but the position he was stuck in meant he could only see a foot or so in front of him. The gnawing in his muscles was starting to grow painful.

Teeth bared in a frustrated growl, Shadow tried to push up, tried to raise his chin to at least see where he was, but his arms were thrust out in front of him, keeping him pinned. His back ached, his muscles searing. And still, that awful noise, screaming and screeching, pain and endless tragedy.

“Shadow!”

His heart dropped in his chest, then surged forward, pushing against his ribs.

Shadow forced his head up as far as he could. In the distance, he saw a familiar flash of pale blue.

“Shadow, help me! They’re almost here! Help, please! I don’t know where grandpa is. Sha-”

A gunshot split the air in two.

Shadow shot up in bed, scrabbling at the sheets. He gasped, pulling in a sharp breath, but the air was so cold, it made his lungs contract.

Panic muddled his thoughts. He practically fell out of bed, staggering like a fawn on unsteady legs. He could still hear gunfire crackling all around him.

Shadow clutched at his chest, trying to ease a pain he still wasn’t used to, and stumbled to catch his balance.

“Ma…” He tried to form the word but it caught in his throat, choking him. “Mari…”

Still gasping for air despite the shocking pain, he shot out his arm and grabbed onto the nearest solid thing, the back of a chair. It was so dark, Shadow could hardly see his own hand in front of him.

It had felt so real. It still felt real.

Pulling in another deep breath, Shadow found a spot on the wall in front of him and fixed his gaze there. Just a dream. Just another bad dream. But Maria’s voice still echoed in his ears. If it wasn’t real, then why did it hurt so much?

Shadow’s grip tightened on the back of the chair. His body had reacted as if he were really in danger. He could feel adrenaline coursing through his blood, awakening every muscle, preparing him to stand his ground or run for cover.

That was twice he’d drifted off now. It was more sleep than he’d gotten in his entire life thus far. He’d never felt the need before. The slow creep of fatigue had always been completely foreign to him. If this was the new normal, he didn’t want it.

Shadow’s gaze dropped to the band around his wrist, outstretched in front of him.

‘Bracers’. That’s what the fox had called them. A neat solution to cut him off from his powers.

Shadow turned his wrist over, studying the brassy ring that completely covered his own. They were heavy and clumsy, he still hadn’t got used to the weight of them. They threw off his balance, and the dull static that rolled through his body from their mechanism was starting to make his jaw ache.

The fox had them on her own wrists. So these people, whoever they were, controlled her powers too.

He’d never seen anyone with that kind of telekinetic control before. The strength in her movement, the flash of fire behind her eyes, was formidable. The fox was a force to be reckoned with. She seemed to mean him no harm, but then, people never did at first.

Shadow slowly unpicked his fingers from the back of the chair. The room had stilled at last.

He took a step back, then another, until the backs of his legs hit the bed.

It was so quiet. How could a base packed full of humans be so silent? Even the ARK used to reverberate gently with the sound of the engines, a low hum of a lullaby for all onboard.

With a sickening lurch, Shadow wondered if the bracers had dulled his senses permanently. There was a time he could feel the planet turn. He could hear whispered voices as clear as a bell and anticipate the moves of others before they themselves had even thought to make them.

Now, he felt as if he were underwater, several feet below the churning surface, reaching and grasping but never getting anywhere. If he didn’t focus, the world felt distant and fragile, like everything was blanketed in a thick layer of snow.

Never had he been so grateful for the power instilled in him at his conception. Now that Shadow knew what it was like to live without it, he would never forsake that gift again. If he ever got it back.

Slowly, Shadow straightened up. His heart had finally fallen into a steady rhythm again.

Still fighting to take control of his breathing, he sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress was firm, it hardly gave way as he sank down, a bed fit for an army base.

But the fox, Kit, she said this was a research centre. A labyrinthine laboratory hidden within the heart of a national forest, miles from any towns, or people, or a way off this awful planet. It didn’t make sense.

With a sigh, Shadow lay down on his side and stared into the darkness.

Outside, thunder rolled across the sky, growling and clawing at the walls of his room. There were no windows, but he could practically feel the rain beating the ground outside, churning up the earth as well as his dreams.

Dreams. He’d hadn’t dreamt for such a long time, not since the ARK. On the rare occasion he did drift off, it was beside Maria’s hospital bed, or while she read aloud from one of her many, many books.

Back then, his dreams left him with a warm feeling of belonging, the safety of family. They were all gone now. He was the only one left. And now that his body craved sleep, there were only nightmares to fill the void.

Shadow gazed around his new room. His eyes had finally had time to adjust, so now he could pick out the squarish shapes of the furniture and a slight sheen off the spines of the books they’d given him.

Know your enemy.

Shadow slipped off the bed and tucked his fingertip over the edge of one of the books. If he was going to be stuck here indefinitely, he should learn all he could.

He flicked on the lamp, then sat down at the table in the corner and began to read.

The first book contained a map of the area. With aching eyes, Shadow studied the landscape, the rocks and the trees, the mountains and the deep blue rivers that snaked through the forests. There was nothing for miles, just endless, empty woodland.

The next book offered information about the history of the border between this country and its neighbour. The next was a heavy tome listing all the flora and fauna that could be found in the National Park. He drank it all in, absorbing all the information he could.

Shadow read all night long, while the storm raged outside.

When morning finally rolled in, Shadow heard muffled movement in the room next to his. His neighbour was getting ready to start their shift.

Shadow could hear footsteps in the hall too, scientists, cooks, guards, all on their way to work. He ignored them, and returned his attention to the passage before him about the history of the park.

The knock at the door shouldn’t have surprised him.

Shadow grimaced. He was having trouble getting used to the dullness of senses. He should have heard his visitor coming long before they got close to the door.

They knocked again. Then a voice called out,

“Shadow? I’m here to take you to breakfast.”

Kit.

He waited with his ears flicked towards the door, his gaze still on the open page before him.

Kit knocked again, louder this time. She was right, she was persistent.

“Shadow?”

He waited in silence, not moving, hardly breathing.

“C’mon, Shadow. We’re not so bad. I just wanna show you around the base. You can come back to your room right after.”

Finally, after a wait that seemed to stretch on for hours, he heard Kit turn and walk back down the corridor.

Shadow hesitated to relax just yet. Perhaps she’d gone to get a couple of guards to break down the door.

He waited there for a few moments, listening intently for any sign that he was about to be hoisted roughly from his room, but nothing came. She’d left him alone, for now.

This went on for three days.

Shadow stayed in his room, in the dark. To keep his mind active, he devoured every book on the shelf, and searched his room from top to bottom for cameras or microphones, but came up empty-handed. He read the books again, from cover to cover. Anything to stave off the creeping, awful lure of sleep.

Sleep meant nightmares. Sleep meant letting his guard down. Sleep was unnatural and unusual to him. He didn’t want it, he knew in his core he didn’t need it, and Shadow would use every last ounce of his remaining strength to keep it at bay.

Every morning, at around the same time, Kit knocked on the door. She called his name, told him it was time for breakfast, waited and waited, then gave up and left.

On the second day, she came back in the evening to tell him that dinner was being served in the dining hall.

Shadow’s stomach growled at the thought, but he stayed silent. He would not give in so easily.

At night, he lay in bed shivering. Shadow had never felt anything like it. Growing up on the temperature-controlled ARK meant he’d never felt the cold before. He was sure he’d still be freezing even if he had his powers.

Shadow tried and tried to resist getting under the covers. So far, he’d managed to keep sleep, and the nightmares, at arm’s length, but the pull of the warm blankets soon grew too strong.

On his third pale, bleak morning, Shadow opened the wardrobe they’d given him. Inside, hanging from a rail, were a number of different clothes in every colour imaginable, as if whoever had left them for him hadn’t dared to guess what he might like.

Shadow huffed. How embarrassing, to be reduced to this.

He pulled down a navy blue shirt, then changed his mind. He pulled on a deep red jumper and slipped it over his head, adjusting and pulling at the material until it sat comfortably over his quills.

He threw the shirt over the bulky, grey box that sat on his bedside table. It had two wide, staring eyes, and a series of buttons at its heart. He couldn’t imagine what it must be for, communication, security, perhaps both. All he knew was that if they were going to plant a camera somewhere, it would be right between its round sockets.

Feeling utterly defeated, Shadow climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling. The blankets and sheets they’d provided barely warded off the cold, but it was better than nothing.

Shadow tucked his nose under the collar of his sweater and closed his eyes, willing morning to come soon.

On his fourth day at The Hill, Shadow watched the door, waiting.

Reliable as ever, he heard the sounds of his neighbour stirring, then the endless drum of footsteps out in the hall. At last, beneath it all, he heard the distinctive step of Kit’s boots.

Shadow opened the door a fraction of a second after she knocked.

He must have surprised her because Kit froze, her hand still high in the air, her knuckles edged towards him.

She recovered quickly though. With an easy smile he recognised from their first meeting, Kit lowered her arm.

“He lives!”

She took him in with a glance, the raw exhaustion in his eyes, the way hunger arched his back, then finally, the jumper he’d pulled on to keep himself warm.

He thought he saw the briefest flash of concern in her face before she plastered a smirk over it.

“Well, don’t you look handsome.”

Shadow stayed silent. Not that it mattered. Kit seemed to have a talent for guessing what he was thinking. That, or she didn’t care, and barrelled on regardless.

“See, I think there must have been some kind of miscommunication,” Kit raised her eyebrows. “I said, ‘I’ll come by tomorrow to show you around’. And you heard ‘lock yourself in your room and starve yourself for three days’.”

Still, Shadow said nothing. Kit was more than capable of filling the silences unaided.

She waited, hoping for a rebuttal, a bit of fight from the most fearsome force in the galaxy, and seemed disappointed when she came up empty.

“Easily done, I guess,” she said quietly.

Shadow let his gaze slip away from her to watch a human emerge from the room opposite his. The man, an engineer by the look of his uniform, merely spared them a cursory glance before heading off to work.

Shadow looked back at Kit when he caught her looking him up and down. She was clearly as curious about him as the scientist that had examined him when he first arrived. He was curious about her too, though where Kit found amusement, he found only exasperation and fear.

“You seem to be under the impression that you’re funny,” he said at last.

Surprised, Kit’s large ears flicked, twitching in his direction.

They truly were ridiculous. Shadow found it hard to hold her gaze, he kept finding his eyes drifting upwards.

“I do, don’t I.” Kit crossed her arms, bunching up the oversized T-shirt she wore to keep herself warm. “Now you’re here, I can give you the tour.”

She turned and headed up the corridor, towards the hubbub of life he’d been avoiding for four days.

Shadow stayed in the doorway, obstinate and calm, though beneath the surface, his patience was already wearing thin.

“I don’t want a tour.”

Kit looked back at him over her shoulder, annoyingly confident, completely at ease.

“Only Santa Clause cares about what you want, Shadow.”

“Who is-”

He stopped, his mind turning over and over as memories sluggishly rose to the surface.

In the last month of the year, Gerald would always make sure to bring seasonal festivities to that tiny corner of the ARK that felt like home. He vaguely remembered a big, jolly man in a red suit through the haze of his early years, and Maria’s wide, excited smile.

Shadow brushed the sickening mist of nostalgia from his vision.

He had to focus, though hunger and exhaustion clawed divertingly at the back of his mind. He needed to eat, he needed a better understanding of his surroundings, and he needed his questions answered. Time to figure out just how much danger he was really in.

Shadow drew in a breath, then closed the door to his room and followed after Kit.

She showed him to the cafeteria first, where she grabbed them both some breakfast. Kit pointed out which foods she generally avoided and which, despite appearances, were actually rather nice. Shadow decided to trust her experience.

The cafeteria was enormous. At least a hundred neat rows of tables and chairs filled the room, and the air was thick with sleepy chatter.

Somehow, he still managed to be the centre of attention. Shadow could feel a thousand pairs of eyes on his back wherever they walked. Kit seemed to pass through without much reaction though. Some of the humans even greeted her warmly by name.

Food in hand, Kit led Shadow through the base, pointing out any areas of interest along the way.

The base consisted of seven floors, all hidden deep within the heart of the mountain.

Ground level, where they were, housed the cafeteria, the mess and some of the sleeping quarters. The floor above, Kit said, was for storage. Beneath their feet was another floor of dormitories, then below that were four levels of laboratories, work spaces, and more storage for all the equipment needed to keep such a large base running smoothly.

Kit spoke easily as she showed him around, enthusiastic and relaxed, as if she really were his tour guide and she’d made the same spiel a hundred times.

Shadow couldn’t get a read on her. Confident and unafraid, Kit spoke to him as if she thought they might soon be good friends.

Shadow said nothing. When in doubt, keep silent. Only speak when absolutely necessary. That was the best way to survive.

But was that something he really needed to worry about? He was always watchful, but Kit had assured him that he would be safe here. No one wanted to harm him, she’d said. She seemed to believe it. But he’d been lied to so many times before.

Shadow thought he might be allowed to slip off back to his room after the tour but instead, Kit led him outdoors, through the same entranceway they brought him through when he first arrived.

In the daylight, the scene was completely different. Once a sparse, black wilderness, the clearing that surrounded the foot of the great mountain range was now glowing with life.

Above him stretched the bluest sky Shadow had ever seen. There wasn't a single cloud. Warm golden light streamed down like water, soaking the grass and warming his still aching muscles.

The air smelt clean and sweet. No acrid smog, no sparking metal, no fear. Just a soft breeze floating through the trees and the smell of flowers he couldn’t name.

He looked round to find Kit had sat down against the mountain’s flank, resting her back against the mossy rock.

Shadow hesitated before joining her. He crossed one leg over the other and carefully sank to the ground, his fingers splayed at his sides.

His heart thumped in his chest as more memories rose in his mind.

One of Maria’s wishes had been to lay in the grass again, to run her fingertips over feathered seed pods and dig her nails into sun-warmed soil. Shadow found himself thinking, not for the first time, that it should be her sitting there instead of him. It didn’t even occur to him that it was the first time he’d ever felt the grass beneath his feet.

“Here.”

Kit passed him one of the pastries she’d chosen for them, holding it aloft in the centre of her palm. When Shadow barely acknowledged it, she sighed.

“Please. For me.”

Shadow could have laughed. He watched Kit rethink her strategy.

“For yourself, then.”

Shadow’s stomach growled. Though a voice in the back of his mind screamed at him to not give in, to just wait it out a few more days, he knew that the only way to stay strong and keep his wandering mind sharp was to eat.

Begrudgingly, he took the pastry, making sure that his fingers didn’t brush Kit’s hand. He took a tentative bite, ignoring the enormous smile that broke across his keeper’s face.

Satisfied, Kit relaxed back against the rock and tilted her chin up to the sky.

She truly seemed to not fear him. Kit had said in their first meeting that she’d read all about him, and seen all available footage of the chaos he caused after he was taken out of stasis, but she wasn’t afraid. Perhaps she thought she was stronger than him, and Shadow supposed she was while his bracers were switched on, but arrogance was something he could use to his advantage.

Kit nodded towards the tree line.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it. Lisa says there are hundreds of National Parks across this country, some are twice as big as this one. Once you’ve been here a little longer, I think she’ll let you come out on patrol with me.”

She took a bite of her own breakfast, then nudged his arm with her elbow, encouraging him to keep eating.

Shadow scowled, but did take another bite. The raspberry danish she’d chosen for him was so sweet, he almost couldn’t bear it. Sickly and chewy, it stuck to the roof of his mouth, and he had to poke it at it with the tip of his tongue.

“There’s a huge river a few miles that way that ends up in a waterfall. I’ve never gone that far but maybe we could hike out and see it sometime. And there’s this meadow I like to go to. The flowers always start to die around this time of year but there’s still grass, taller than me. Even with these ears.”

She grinned at him, but Shadow found her irreverence aggravating.

“Patrol?” he repeated

“Mm?”

“You talked about going on patrol.”

“It’s part of the work we do here. The park is home to hundreds of different species, there’s fish in the lakes, bears, deer, birds, lynx, everything you could think of. But the humans have ruined their own climate. You wouldn’t think it but this ecosystem is dying. Reversing that is part of Lisa’s work.”

Shadow watched a pair of soldiers tramp through the grass in their big, heavy boots. They spoke in hushed voices, stealing glances at him, but didn't dare to meet his gaze. They didn’t seem like conservationists.

“Lisa. She’s a scientist?”

“Yeah, she’s worked here for years. They’ve been studying the biodiversity in the forest. The soldiers work as fire watchers too.”

The sun was still steadily rising through the sky, bathing them in warm orange light.

Kit pushed her arms up above her head, stretching and basking in the sunlight, and Shadow fought the urge to do the same.

“Wildfires are very common in Glacier. I left some books about the park in your room, did you find them? I thought you might like to learn about where you’ll be staying. There’s only one main road in the park but the woodland is dense. People get lost out here easily. We can help them get back on the right track. A lot of important work goes on here. This is a good place.”

Shadow couldn’t resist sneering at that.

Of course, Kit noticed immediately.

“You don’t trust scientists.”

“I can’t trust anyone.”

“Well, you can trust Lisa.”

“She made these?”

He held up his wrists. The bracers still buzzed unpleasantly, a steady, uncomfortable shockwave that turned his stomach and made his head swim.

Kit nodded, her hand coming up to absentmindedly rest against one of her own bracers.

“Her and her colleagues.”

Shadow scoffed.

“This is environmental science?”

“I think we count as ‘environmental’.”

Kit smiled again. She was always doing that. It was infuriating.

Shadow didn’t like the implication that they had anything in common. Just because they were both alien on this planet, it didn’t mean that they were anything alike, just like with Sonic and his friends. There was no ‘we’. Only ‘him’ and ‘them’. The fox needed to decide whose side she was on.

Shadow huffed and tucked his index finger under one of his bracers, trying to ease the ache that it sent shooting through his bones.

“You said I’m free here, that there are no bars and no handcuffs. What would you call these?”

Kit shrugged.

“A precaution.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“I understand it. We’re allowed wherever we want. We’re given food and warmth and safety. In return, they just ask that our powers are under control.”

“I can control mine just fine.”

A soft breeze swept through the clearing, pooling at the foot of the mountain and rolling over them.

Shadow watched the wind play with Kit’s short hair.

Something seemed to pass between them. Shadow had bared his teeth, metaphorically and literally. Kit could either step back or stand her ground.

Unsurprisingly, she seemed unfazed. Kit just smiled again, though perhaps that was her way of hiding how nervous she really was.

“I knew you’d come round, eventually,” Kit said, sounding almost smug as she deftly changed the subject. “You couldn’t stay in your room forever.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t send your soldiers in after me.”

“They’re not my soldiers. And anyway, I knew you were okay. I could still hear you moving around.”

Shadow’s scowl deepened.

“What?”

Kit flicked her left ear, drawing attention to them again.

“I could hear you.”

Shadow’s teeth clenched together, tightening his jaw till it ached.

Indignity upon indignity. It wasn’t bad enough that they were keeping him here or that they watched his every move and controlled his body, he had been assigned a keeper with hearing so acute, she could pick out his movements from three rooms away.

She really was an odd sort of creature. She was all out of proportion. Kit was shorter than him but her long ears technically made her taller, balanced out by her long, fox’s tail that swayed from side to side as she walked.

A fennec, she’d said. He supposed he’d heard stories of the different species across the galaxy, but Shadow couldn’t remember ever hearing about a tribe like hers.

Inside the base, he’d thought her fur was black like his, but now in the sunlight, he could see it was actually deep purple, apart from the whitish spots that freckled up her nose, between her eyes, to her forehead. He’d seen the same colour in the books she’d left for him, in hyacinths and blackcurrants, violets and figs.

Her eyes were like lavender, bright and expressive, and Shadow found it hard to hold her gaze for too long without feeling like she could see right into him.

Instead, he looked back at the tree line. The pines reached so high, they seemed to brush the turquoise sky. The woodland stretched back until it disappeared into a dark smudge on the horizon. The mountain range they had their backs to was just one of many in the park; he'd read about them in another of the books Kit left for him.

“Listen, I know it’s strange,” Kit went on, her voice much softer now, to the point of earnestness. “But don’t worry about the soldiers. They aren’t always the most trusting but the scientists here are all very kind. They just want to work. And they’re curious about other worlds like mine.”

Foreboding pushed its long, cold fingers into Shadow’s stomach and slowly closed into a fist, gripping him tight.

“Are they curious about me?” he asked, though he dreaded the answer.

“We all are,” Kit shrugged again. “Who wouldn’t be?”

It was an unsettling thought. Shadow still didn’t know what he was doing here. A part of him was too afraid to ask. He’d never backed down from a fight before, but these people had him over a barrel. He was powerless, completely lost, and guarded at all times by someone incredibly powerful but unabashedly interested in him, a worrying combination.

If they wanted his powers, they would’ve taken them already. If they wanted him dead, he wouldn’t be sitting here, eating breakfast and enjoying the sunshine. It was much more likely that they needed him for something, and Kit was their ambassador. But what would she gain from that?

“It really is safe here, Shadow. I know it must be scary but nothing can hurt you here. You could have a purpose. You could use your skills and your power to help people.”

“Why should I?”

His words held more venom than he intended but he didn’t care.

Human beings had brought only pain and suffering to his life. What had they ever done for him except take away the only things he’d ever cared about, the only home he’d ever known? Their selfishness and their greed would be their undoing, why should he stop them tearing themselves apart?

Kit tilted her head at him. She had the audacity to appear confused.

“Isn’t that why you were created?” she asked. “To help people?”

Something sharp twisted in Shadow’s gut. With a low, rumbling growl, he thrust out his hand and grabbed her wrist.

Kit’s other hand instinctively rose up as fire flashed in her eyes, but she did not summon her power to her. She kept it under the tips of her fingers, her whole body shaking with the effort.

Shadow pulled Kit close, her body twisted in towards his, until his nose was mere inches from hers.

“Do not,” Shadow seethed. “Presume for a single second that you know anything about me.”

He could barely get the words out from between his bared teeth. He chewed them up, spat them out, his fist tightening around Kit’s wrist.

She felt so small and snappable in his hand. The perpetual look of self-assured snark was gone, as was her irritating smile. Not so confident now.

“You will never know me. That’s mine. There are some things even humans will not and cannot take from me.”

Kit’s ears flattened against her head, her mouth falling open in surprise. She tightened her free hand into a fist, her eyes beginning to burn with purple fire, but her powers remained beneath the surface, broiling and trembling, but restrained.

“I’m not human,” Kit said, her voice low.

Her warm breath brushed his cheek. Shadow could feel her pulse hammering under his fingers.

He snarled.

“If you help keep me here, you may as well be.”

Shadow tightened his grip on her wrist, curious as to what she would do, but Kit still didn’t summon her powers. What was she waiting for? He was right, he was too valuable to damage. Kit was obviously under strict instructions to not be too rough with him.

His own power lay out of reach. He tried to stretch out to it, call it to him, but the connection had been broken. Shadow felt a chill seep up his back, making his fur stand on end and his chest tighten. He felt lost and angry and frightened, there wasn’t a safe place for Kit, for anyone, to stand.

But then the fire in Kit’s eyes died, and he felt her muscles go slack under his hand. She lifted her head back, moving away from him, and Shadow decided to let her go, allowing her to sit with her back against the rock again.

Her eyes never left him though, wary and watchful, but still not fearful. What would it take for her to finally understand the danger she was inflicting upon herself by trying to get close to him?

Feeling suddenly worn out by the day, Shadow rose to stand. He tapped the toe of his right shoe against the ground three times in quick succession, drawing attention to the battered old sneakers he’d dug out of the closet.

“I want my shoes back,” he said. “And more books.”

He felt Kit’s eyes on his back as he turned to leave but she didn’t rise to follow him.

“What?” she called out, and that irreverent lilt was back in her voice. “You’ve read them all already?”

Shadow didn’t respond. He just kept walking, his head bowed to avoid catching the gaze of any soldiers who passed him by.

Kit was right about one thing, he did appear free to move around wherever he liked. No one stopped him, or spared him more than a second glance as he headed back inside the base, through the winding corridors to his room.

He locked the door behind him and curled up on his bed, tucking his knees up into his chest.

Shadow pulled in shaky breath after shaky breath, his lungs shuddering and flitting like a hummingbird’s wing, until finally, he couldn’t stand it any longer. He began to cry.

Shadow lay there, his body shaking and trembling uncontrollably, until night fell.

Kit watched him go.

Her heart was still pounding like a bass drum, in her wrists, her ears, her neck. She could feel her blood pumping round her body, adrenaline pooling in every nerve. More than anything, she could still feel Shadow’s hand around her wrist.

Kit pulled in a long breath and slipped her hand around the ghost of his. The leather of his gloves had rubbed her fur uncomfortably. She wouldn’t be surprised if she had a bruise there tomorrow. Even without his powers, Shadow was strong, and a disquieting presence to be so close to.

His eyes. Kit couldn’t get them out of her head. Every time she closed her own, she could see scarlet burning through the darkness, the hot glow of a collapsing star, a power unlike anything the galaxy had ever seen.

When she finally felt strong enough to stand, her legs felt uncertain beneath her, and Kit thought she might stumble if she didn’t have the mountainside to lean against.

Not so bad for a first day, Kit thought, trying to keep positive. There was plenty of time for Shadow to warm up to her.

She followed his path back towards the base’s main entrance, but headed for the elevator rather than the sleeping quarters.

Kit travelled down two floors to Lisa’s favourite workspace, a huge array of research labs that filled the entire storey.

Each room was enormous, and consisted of enough stations that everyone had the freedom and the space to work without getting in someone else’s way. Microscopes, boxy computers, sheets and sheets of research pinned together in files, shelves and shelves of equipment, and an all manner of brightly coloured chemicals filled the room.

Kit’s nose immediately wrinkled. Even after all this time, she couldn’t get used to the sharp scents of disinfectant, charred metal, and latex gloves.

She found Lisa at her usual workbench, tying up her long brown hair to keep it out of her face.

When she saw Kit, she smiled, and pushed her round glasses further up her nose.

“Any luck today?”

Kit twisted her mouth, unsure of how to answer.

She hopped up onto one of the stools and leaned over the workbench, propping up her chin on her hand. She supposed in a lot of ways, today had been a success, but she still had so much work to do. Shadow seemed more out of each than ever.

“I finally got him to eat,” Kit offered. “And I showed him where everything is so hopefully he’ll start wandering around on his own soon. He asked a lot of questions, Lisa.”

“Well, that’s okay. So long as you were careful.”

“I was, don’t worry.”

Kit’s gaze dropped to her left wrist.

Shadow’s words rang like a bell in her head. He’d pulled her so close to him, she could feel every ragged rise and fall of his chest, and the power that lay dormant behind his eyes.

He could have snapped her wrist. He could have tried to pin her down, knock her out or worse, and run off into the woods, but he didn’t. Instead, Shadow had warned her to back off, and sharply reminded her that she had no idea what she was dealing with. She’d have to fix that.

”He wants his shoes back,” Kit said.

Lisa frowned.

“He won’t be able to use them. Without his chaos energy, they’re just shoes.”

As she spoke, she took a large white box from under the counter and carefully prised off its lid. Lisa pulled out yards and yards of stark black electrical wire and velcro pads, and began organising them on the bench.

Kit studied the hypnotic movement of her hands, her mind still turning and turning, over and over.

“It might make him more helpful.”

“We’ll see.”

Lisa raised the circular black harness, loosening the buckles between her deft hands. When she thought she’d got it to the right size, she held it above Kit’s head, waiting for permission.

“Ready to start?”

Kit stared at the headset, and considered Lisa’s question.

She felt tired today. Waiting four days for Shadow to emerge had taken a toll on her. Every morning she worried about him, every night she had to explain why she still hadn’t made any progress. And now she’d actually had a conversation with him, she felt as if all the energy had been sapped from her body.

A small part of her wondered if she’d be able to say ‘no’ if she wanted to, but Kit brushed the thought away. That was ridiculous. Lisa just wanted to help her. And if Kit could do anything to repay the kindness she and the other scientists had shown her, she wouldn’t miss a beat to do it.

Kit forced a smile and nodded, lowering her head so that Lisa could place the harness over her head.

“Sure.”

Next Chapter

Master List

#shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x oc #shadow x reader #sonic movie 3 #sth

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devildom-moss · 14 hours ago

Text

May poll story

NSFW - Asmodeus x Solomon x MC

(Asmodeus x Solomon x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (switchy overall but slightly sub!Solomon) (poly/threesome) (no penetration; oral - receiving; handjob - Asmo giving Solomon; dry humping; so much kissing; light praise; bondage; facial; cum eating; photos; lots of teasing; marking/hickeys; "master" for Solomon by Asmo; voyeurism; no reader/MC sex organs specified)

Word Count: +4,400

Asmo was hosting an intimate Asmo Night with his two favorite humans. Some nights, he simply wanted a bit of attention from you both – affection from two people he knew adored him for who he was. Fans were nice, but he wanted to be around someone he had feelings for, and in your case, his love was so intense it almost matched his love for himself. A relaxing sleepover with you and Solomon seemed like the perfect way to get his fill of adoration.

As usual, Asmo was a wonderful host, preparing games, activities, and an abundance of snacks – although the latter was planned, in part, to dissuade Solomon from attempting to cook. If Solomon had brought homemade food, that would have ruined the entire night.

With a long night ahead of you, Asmo sipped his Demonus slowly, fearing intoxication; there would be other nights to get drunk around either of you, but tonight, he wanted to feel in control of everything – to savor every word, look, and sensation that he eagerly anticipated. Asmo wanted to remember the way Solomon’s eyes darted between his body and yours as the two of you danced to music he had put on – the way his gaze felt hungry like some vicious predator in that moment and how Solomon had smothered his desire as the song came to an end, trying not to initiate something so early in the night. He wanted to fully enjoy the warmth of your lips on his neck when you lost the card game that Solomon insisted be made a little more interesting by turning it into a punishment game – no doubt hoping luck would be on his side tonight, especially with Barbatos not in attendance. You were all too happy to agree to Asmo’s – slightly restrained – punishment. All he wanted was for you to leave a hickey on him in a place where everyone would see it. Out of all the things Asmo could have asked for, that almost seemed innocent. Asmo wanted to engrave the praise you and Solomon gave him when he put on an impromptu fashion show. Your words were honey-sweet, pooling on your tongues so enticingly that he could hardly resist kissing both of you and tasting the words in his mouth.

Later in the night, Asmo stretched, letting out a soft little moan, and got up. “I was thinking – maybe we could all take a nice long bath together, hmm~? My bath is big enough for all of us. What do you think?”

Solomon scoffed and shook his head, seeing right through Asmo’s offer. “No thanks. You just want to get us both naked.”

“Well, of course, hun. Can’t blame a demon for trying, can you~?” Asmo winked. “What about you, MC?”

“You’re really going to leave me all alone in your room? That’s hardly good hosting etiquette.” Solomon cocked his head to the side, as if it was a veiled threat. “Besides, if you two bathe alone together, who knows how long you’ll be in there.”

“Ugh, Solomon! You’re such a meanie!” Asmo huffed. “You won’t let me get a good look at that body of yours, and now you want to keep MC all to yourself.”

“By all means,” Solomon shrugged, “leave me to my own devices – unsupervised in your room. Or maybe I’ll go prepare a snack while you two add unnecessary steps to getting clean.”

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone, Solomon!” you interjected quickly. He knew his cooking was universally considered a weapon, didn’t he? You’d never put it in such harsh words – but he had to understand that, right? “Besides, you’ll only get into trouble if you’re on your own for too long.”

Asmo caught your eyes, silently thanking you for sparing him – and everyone else in the House of Lamentation for that matter. “Anyway~ I’ll be back. Behave, you two.”

As Asmo made a hasty escape, Solomon smirked at you. “You don’t really think I’m so troublesome that I can’t be left alone, do you?”

It was clear to him that you had lied; after all, he knew his adorable apprentice inside and out. There was little that you could hide from him, but his self-confidence and desire wiped Solomon’s memory of his threat of extra-strength food poisoning; the only reason you wanted to stay with him that remained was because you were hoping for some alone time together. Solomon got up from Asmo’s hanging chair and walked over to you.

“Are you not troublesome?” you teased, inching over on the edge of the bed so Solomon could sit next to you.

Solomon chuckled, shook his head, and put one knee up on the bed next to your thigh. “Would you like me to be?”

“Meaning?” You gave Solomon a confused look, but as he straddled your lap and extended his arms behind your head, you knew exactly what he meant. Your eyes unintentionally darted towards Asmo’s bathroom door, worried that he would suddenly return.

“Fool around with me,” Solomon got closer and whispered in your ear, bringing your attention back to him.

“I don’t know, Sol.” It seemed mean to Asmo: making out – or more – with someone else in his bed while he was busy, especially on an Asmo night. If he walked in, saw that, and realized he wasn’t included, you thought, “Asmo might get pouty.”

Solomon’s low, gentle laugh rang in your ear before he began to kiss down your neck. “He’ll like it, trust me.”

Each kiss was slow and deliberate, aiming to leave his mark on you. Perhaps Solomon needed a way to remedy his jealousy from when you gave Asmo a hickey earlier – or perhaps he was simply overcome by his underlying desire to mark you as his own. Either way, Solomon continued to suck and nip down your skin until he was satisfied with his work. His hot breath, saliva, and the sweet moans that escaped his lips as he squirmed in your lap sent shivers up your spine. By the time he pulled away, your heart was racing.

“Oh!” Solomon grinned, took his wand out from his back pocket, and gave it a quick wave. You furrowed your brows; Solomon replaced his wand just as quickly as he had pulled it out. He brought his finger up to his lips and whispered, “had to cast a secret spell.”

“And you wonder why people think you’re shady? What did you do?” you laughed.

“I cast a spell to warm up Asmo’s towels for when he’s done with his bath.” Your heart melted immediately – only to feel jolted as Solomon added, “now, where were we?”

Solomon took advantage of the quickly-fading charm of his sweetness to push you on your back with a grin on his face. He leaned down close but hesitated slightly – waiting for any sign of resistance. “Please” formed silently on his lips, grazing yours in a chaste kiss, touching you lightly like a devotee may trace the outlines of an altar. You were sacred to Solomon; in all his years, he had never met another creature he regarded as so holy. No demon nor angel could have his worship like this. Every prayer that fell from Solomon’s lips was an act of love and devotion. Across all three realms, only you had given Solomon something worthy of divine adoration.

He could only hope that his reverence would translate, transcribed on your hallowed body with his lips and tongue. Solomon’s kisses grew deeper and more desperate, as if he was starved of your affection and intended to gorge himself on whatever love you offered. Nothing could come between him and his communion – not even the demon standing in the doorframe to the bathroom.

Kisses trailed down your neck as Solomon’s hand made its way under the hem of your shirt, teasing your bare skin with his fingertips. When he had buried himself in the crook of your neck, you could tell from his eagerness and attention to one particular area that he intended to mark you. Your brows knit together, but the ecstasy of Solomon’s lips was interrupted by the gentle biting feeling of someone else’s eyes on you, so you turned your gaze to the bathroom door.

Asmo’s eyes were half-lidded, and a seductive smirk sat on his face when he finally caught your eye. He held your gaze intently, as if determined to pull your attention away from Solomon for as long as he could. Only when Solomon panted hotly against your neck and softly, slowly dragged his nails along your stomach so lightly that your skin was as unaffected as a brilliant sapphire brushed over by a raven’s feather, causing you to shiver and gasp, did Asmo feel a compelling tinge of jealousy. His smile dropped, briefly slipping into a pout, before he resolved himself and strutted towards the two precious humans playing around in his bed.

Solomon felt Asmo’s presence, but he refused to acknowledge him until Asmo ran a lovely hand up Solomon’s back with an amused hum. “Just how far were you planning to go in my bed?”

“As far as I could,” Solomon admitted with a chuckle, sitting up and pressing his back against Asmo’s hand. “Problem?”

“May~be~” Asmo sang sweetly. “Depends on whose cute little idea this was. MC?”

“Solomon said you’d like it,” you blurted out under the scrutiny of Asmo’s honey-sweet tone. Solomon feigned offense and got off you so he could get a better look at Asmo, who was standing in a lovely pink silk robe decorated with red spider lilies and blood spatter, along with a matching bonnet.

“Betraying your own teacher?” Asmo hummed. “That’s my MC.”

“Yours?” Solomon scoffed and playfully added, “that mark on their neck isn’t your handiwork.”

You could feel the tension building in the room as Asmo’s affectionate stare turned from you towards Solomon with an inhuman wickedness – devious and sexy in a way that caused Solomon to shiver excitedly. Asmo cooed, “oh, poor Solomon. An appetizer sits in the stomach all the same, doesn’t it? I think MC’s had their fill of you, darling. I’m so gorgeous, I’m obviously the main course and dessert; isn’t that right, MC?”

The sense that Solomon and Asmo were trying to stake their claim on you was muddied by the seductive overtones and lustful stares they offered each other. Solomon was about to sit up and pull Asmo into a forceful, dominating kiss when Asmo snapped his fingers. The vines of roses that adorned Asmo’s bed shot out and quickly restrained Solomon, pulling him back towards the headboard.

At first, Solomon chuckled and weakly tugged against the vines, putting on a show of struggling. When he did, he felt the vines wind around him more – stronger than before. Solomon looked surprised and tried a low-level unbinding spell to loosen the restraints, but it only backfired. The vines moved further up his arms, and one slipped around his waist. Solomon could feel faint traces of his own magic imbued in the vines now, causing the roses to glow a soft pink. Panic flashed in his eyes briefly as he realized what Asmo had done, but it dissolved into amusement and arousal.

“Lucifer has some very interesting books on how to deal with powerful sorcerers,” Asmo giggled at Solomon. “You can struggle, but that will only make it worse. Only the caster can undo the spell.”

“Asmo!” You sat up in protest. That seemed a bit excessive. However, your concern for Solomon melted when he met your eyes with a soft smile.

“It’s fine,” he reassured you.

“Besides,” Asmo interjected, gently turning your head back to face him, “if he was against it, he’d use his pact on me and be free right away. Trust me.”

You did; you trusted them both, and so when Asmo slowly pushed you back down on the bed, you let him. His charm didn’t work on you the way it did with others, but it was so easy to allow yourself to slip under Asmo’s seductive spell. He was so lovely as he pushed your shirt up and slowly kissed down your stomach, brushing his lips over the places Solomon’s fingers had dared to touch. Solomon may have tried to claim you first tonight, but Asmo was determined to overwrite every bit of Solomon’s seduction until the only man you could think of was him; he was the Avatar of Lust, after all. Asmo was programmed to make you come undone at his hands.

Every kiss and puff of air that left Asmo made you tremble and shiver until your hand found his bedsheets and bunched the soft threads against your palm. He heard your movements and giggled, lifting his head slightly and staring up at you seductively. Your body continued to shake under his gaze despite the momentary relief from the pleasure of his lips on your skin. He sat up, removed his bonnet, and chucked it to the floor. Asmo gently loosened your tight grip around his sheets and held your hand briefly before bringing it up to his lips, leaving a lingering, sensual kiss on the tops of your fingers. Slowly, Asmo moved your hand up to his slightly damp hair and guided your hand into a ball until you were gripping it. “Be as rough or as gentle as you need.”

Asmo lowered himself back down to your body until his hair tickled your bare skin, leaving small pools of water where his hair touched you or where droplets fell. The cool sensation of drying water was juxtaposed with Asmo’s hot mouth as his kisses got slower, sloppier, and sexier. He kissed you like he was devouring a dessert with all the lewd sexiness of an adult streamer. The intimacy of it felt overwhelming. Each motion was a clear sign of affectionate dedication. Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust, would go to war for your pleasure and make all forms of perverse, depraved, and beautiful love for your safety. His entire world was you and Solomon in his bed right now, and nothing short of the catastrophic end of all three realms would dare interrupt his blissful peace.

His delicate and thoughtful touches convinced you that Asmo had every intention of unraveling you with his mouth. Even Solomon could sense it as he watched on in amusement. You began to feel self-conscious and needy. Choosing to attempt a diversion, you whined and squirmed away from Asmo’s touch, but he only followed your movements with intensified desire. He knew you were loving this, and if you wanted to pause, you’d have to muster up all your strength and use your words. Whimpering his name, you interrupted his ceremonious flood of devotion. “Asmo, please, wait. I should be spoiling you.”

“Nonsense,” Asmo chuckled, licking a long stripe up your stomach before continuing, “letting me turn you on is spoiling me.”

Asmo pecked your lips lovingly, staring at you with overflowing adoration as he pulled away. It was almost unbearable. He pulled at every defense, like loosening the soft, satin ribbon of a corset, determined to undo your strength and set you at ease. With a heated smirk, Asmo looked up at you from between your thighs. Your clothes were disheveled – pants pulled unevenly around your hips, shirt pushed up to your chest, underwear peeking out over your pants, yet still exposing part of your ass. The only way you could look sexier, Asmo thought, was if he could get you out of those clothes, but he was far too eager and would settle for getting you out of your underwear.

Maintaining eye contact, Asmo slid your pants further down, and you lifted your legs to help him. They were tossed across the room as far as Asmo could manage while he was still fixated on you. He bent down to kiss your bare thigh, tickling you with his breath as he giggled. Mischievous as ever, Asmo quickly swiped his tongue over the wet spot on your underwear. The whimper he pulled from your lips delighted his ears.

“I love you,” Asmo whispered, leaning down to kiss your inner thigh once more. The tenderness in his voice melted your thoughts and stalled your tongue so that his declaration went unanswered – not that Asmo needed a reply when he pulled back and looked at you splayed beneath him. If this was not an act of love between you, then love must be more myth than reality.

Your underwear was discarded on the bed next to Solomon’s thigh – Asmo’s subtle attempt to tease him: leaving your damp underwear in his line of sight, just out of reach. Solomon tugged against his restraints with an annoyed sigh only for the vines to snap right back into place.

In a gentle display of strength, Asmo lifted you and repositioned your body so that you were laying with your head at the foot of the bed. On his knees, he looked down at you again. If only you were wearing my shirt, too, he thought. When Asmo bent down to kiss your inner thighs, Solomon was graced with the sight of Asmo’s gorgeous ass – a show that Asmo was well aware he was putting on, evidenced by the subtle roll of his hips as he moaned against your skin. If he wasn’t doing it on purpose, then he was too sexual for his own good.

The feeling of soft lips, hot breath, and vibrating moans melted every thought in your mind, and just seconds before a plea for more escaped your lips, Asmo pulled away. You whimpered, making an almost pathetic sound. Asmo giggled, thrilled by your cute desperation. “Ready for more, luv?”

“Mhmm.” You looked down at him, catching his burning gaze. He was loving this. In your periphery, you caught a glimpse of Solomon staring at you just as intensely. His cheeks flushed bright pink from the sound of your voice alone, but even the obscured sight of you on your back, waiting for Asmo’s next move so eagerly and obediently, had him throbbing in his pants.

“Good,” Asmo sighed in relief. “I can’t wait anymore.”

Asmo sunk down further than before, kissing you quickly before giving you a gentle lick. You gasped, and he rewarded you by sticking out his tongue, wet with saliva, and leaving it against you for a few seconds as he giggled, allowing you to simply feel the warm slick of his mouth.

Lust – as a pure essence – seeped from Asmo’s tongue. How else could you explain the aphrodisiacal effects he had on your body? It appeared effortless for him to leave you squirming and rolling your hips up against his mouth. Those lovely lips made a mess of you. Loud, needy moans that humiliated all who heard them served as proof of the sexual expertise of the demon between your legs. Your mind clouded. Your breath shortened. Your head lolled back.

You were being so perfect and pretty for Asmo that he couldn’t hold his own need back. His hips lowered just enough so he could leisurely grind against his bed, compounding his pleasure as he continued to taste and tease you. Asmo’s own moans reverberated against you and played as a beautiful accompaniment to your own that drove Solomon wild. Sexually intoxicating you was Asmo’s sole focus – entirely undisturbed until a soft groan from Solomon caught his ear – the sort that indicated a shameful degree of frustration that only made Asmo pull away from you slightly with a giggle. You whined.

“Poor thing,” Asmo cooed quietly, and, for a second, you weren’t sure whether he was talking about you or Solomon. “Should we give Solomon a bit of attention, too, MC?”

As much as you wanted Asmo to keep going, the opportunity to expand your circle of unearthly pleasure excited you – and you knew Asmo would never leave you unsatisfied. Head still hazy, you offered a slow nod as you shakily sat up. Asmo saw your unsteadiness and rose to meet you; a stabilizing hand found the back of your neck as he leaned in to kiss you affectionately. Your taste lingered on his tongue, shared with you through a deepening kiss that was cut cruelly short, the ache of which was only soothed by the adoration in Asmo’s eyes as he stared back at your bliss-stained face.

“My love is too beautiful.” Asmo cupped your cheek and ran his thumb along your lips before prompting your mouth open with it, “and so good, too.”

You bit down on him gently, earning a delighted laugh.

“Fuck,” Solomon sighed, growing impatient and eager for attention. The sight of you and Asmo flirting and being romantic was riling him up, stirring up this dark, predatory aura that dimmed the glow of the roses from a soft pink to a mysterious lavender. Even in the lowered lights, you saw his need and desperation cleanly – compressed and carefully restrained, ready to be made a mess of.

“My poor master,” Asmo giggled teasingly, turning and crawling over to Solomon, leisurely and wordlessly requiring for the release of his thumb – as if he was reluctant to let the appendage leave your mouth without proper attention. Perhaps another time, but at this moment, Solomon’s body called to him. Asmo leaned down, getting a closer look at the twitching tent in Solomon’s pants and running a single finger up it. “Should I give you a hand?”

“Just a hand?” Solomon scoffed. All that teasing and waiting, and the only thing you’ll give me is a hand, Solomon thought, pretty little brat.

“Trust me,” Asmo spoke sweetly enough to appease the great sorcerer, “you’ll like it.”

You and Solomon watched on in anticipation as Asmo undid Solomon’s pants and slid them slowly down his hips. To your surprise, Solomon’s cock sprang up.

“You naughty boy~” Asmo teased, “no underwear~? You weren’t expecting this, were you?”

“You really are a slutty old man,” you chuckled and approached him. Before Solomon could protest, you caught his lips in a heated kiss so intense that his embarrassment leaked from the tip of his cock. Asmo used it to lube up his hand in slow, circular motions around the head before he started stroking Solomon in equally slow motions. A rumbling sigh fed you and died in the back of your throat as Solomon eagerly accepted your kiss. That deep, debauched sound contrasted with the soft, submissive whimper that left his lips as you pulled away and attempted to cling to you.

“Grind on my ass, MC,” Asmo instructed, interrupting your kiss-induced haze.

“What?” you asked, playfully amused.

“Hump me, silly,” Asmo giggled and shook his ass for you slightly – still focusing on pleasuring Solomon. “Let me make you both feel good.”

You pet Asmo’s head gently before you positioned yourself behind him. With a firm grip, you pulled him flush against your hips and started to grind against his soft ass, earning an aroused “oh.” Solomon’s eyes met yours, and despite being bound by vines, he smirked at you, as if he could read your mind. Maybe it was the eroticism of the situation, but as you rolled your hips into Asmo’s, all you could think was fuck, this shouldn’t feel so good. Or maybe Solomon knew what you were thinking because the same thought crossed his mind.

“Do my soft, pretty hands feel good, master~?” Asmo asked, looking up a Solomon with the loveliest eyes – a look that unfortunately went ignored as Solomon watched your face contort in pleasure. Asmo’s only response was Solomon’s desperate attempt to thrust his hips up into Asmo’s hand at the same pace as you were humping his ass; it said enough, and the demon was all melodic giggles.

Was it Asmo’s warm, soft skin, or Solomon’s burning gaze holding you, or the moans of both men that filled the room? Maybe Asmo was using a spell on you? Something intensified the pleasure, and before you could figure out what was getting you so worked up, you were cumming against Asmo’s ass.

Asmo could feel you pulsing as your grinding slowed but refused to stop; a part of you still wanted more – couldn’t bear to separate your body from his. Asmo took advantage of Solomon’s evident excitement at getting to watch you cum and sped up his movements, pulling more lewd noises from Solomon.

“Fuck, please?” Solomon whined mindlessly, “I’m gonna cum.”

“I know~” Asmo cooed. “Be a good master and cum on my face, ‘kay?”

Solomon was so focused on biting back his moans that he couldn’t even manage a nod. Instead, he replied by following orders and spurting cum all over Asmo’s pretty face. Asmo looked up at Solomon; that lovely face that he had made a mess of made Solomon’s cock twitch. Asmo leaned in to kiss Solomon and stretched his arm over to the nightstand, grabbing his D.D.D. and opening the camera app. He pulled away with a seductive smile, turned, and handed you the device.

“Take a flattering picture, luv,” Asmo grinned. He wasn’t going to upload this moment; some things were too intimate to share – but not so intimate that proof of it should stay confined in memories. You snapped a few pictures – some lovelier than others, but one in particular caught your attention as you scrolled back. You showed it to Asmo for his nod of approval. He took his phone from your hand and gently tossed it on the bed so he could caress your face with both hands. “Beautiful.”

You weren’t sure if he meant you or the photo – or maybe you were, but you were too embarrassed to admit that the Avatar of Lust looked at a photo of himself and still turned to you in admiration, in worship. Yet, you, like a disciple, leaned in and began to clean his face with your tongue. Asmo was giddy at your touch, but with each slow trail your tongue traced, fervent arousal grew in him. Even Solomon, confined to watching, felt himself getting hard once more. He was enamored – so much so that he waited until you had cleaned every drop of cum off Asmo’s face before he dared interrupt by clearing his throat.

Asmo laughed and snapped his fingers, freeing Solomon from his binds.

Solomon chuckled, “you sure know how to show a few humans a good time.”

“It’s not over yet, is it?” You glanced down at Solomon’s crotch quickly.

“Of course not,” Solomon got to his knees and kissed Asmo’s forehead sweetly, placing his hand on the base of Asmo’s neck, as he stared at you lovingly, propositioning you. “Let’s give you a fun Asmo night.”

Once again, you weren’t sure who was at the receiving end, but you were certain night would bleed into morning. If the Devildom had a sun, your lovemaking would greet the sunrise in equal beauty.

(A/N: please ignore that this is half a year late and please enjoy the content. Turns out Obey me is almost done, but I'll keep giving you content to make you feel stuff for a while.)

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