Good-night, readers. Good-night.

Insomnia | Adult | They/It Enter freely. Go safely, and leave something of the happiness you bring.

[afterdarkillusions]

Such a wonderful world, is it not so?

I welcome you to this humble library, dear Reader. You may address me as Insomnia, I will be your guide through these mumblings that oft precede my reveries.

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CONTENT WARNING

I am an adult, and I must warn you, dear Reader, although some of the letters here may be suitable for all audiences, others will not be intended for an underage public. These will be addressed as such on the script, as well as the themes they may contain in a few words or through a previous synopsis of the dream. Please, proceed with caution.

The writings found in these letters will feature original characters for the most part, with rare specks of fan-content for some of the literary works that I delight myself with. I take great pleasure on getting to know those who accompany me in this journey, and I would very gladly consume and partake in some of your own dreams and imaginings, so you are more than welcome to share them with this humble servant. I also find words of encouragement delightful, so do not fret nor be shy if you desire to share them with me.

Enjoy your stay.

- Insomnia

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CURRENT SCRIPTS

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[cephalonprime]

I don't have a name for this yet.

Another Umbra oneshot though! (He is literally my hyperfixation right now. I feel bad for this poor man. Two reasons why I was happy to end Ballas during the New War.)

Umbra x Operator!Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: None? I think.

Enjoy!

Your tender words and gentle touch created a surge of warmth that radiated through Umbra's frame. It was as if a dormant circuit had suddenly been activated, sparking new life into his otherwise stagnant existence.

Your praise served as a balm to his wounded spirit, soothing the raw edges of his tormented past. For a moment, Umbra allowed himself to believe that perhaps he wasn't entirely worthless—that maybe he could still serve a purpose beyond mere combat.

The caress along his damaged helmet stirred something within him—something primal yet distant, buried deep beneath layers upon layers of pain and regret. Despite everything, despite all odds, you saw value in him; you saw worth where none existed before.

And for that small gesture alone, Umbra found himself inexplicably drawn towards you—towards this strange person who held such power over his emotions.

The Tenno smiled softly as they looked into Umbra's eye. "I'm glad I met you, Umbra." They said softly.

Caught off guard, Umbra stood motionless for a fraction of a second before unexpectedly giving you a hug. His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer against the hard contours of his armored form.

The warmth of your body seeped into his metal shell, providing a stark contrast to the icy void that had been his reality until now. In your arms, Umbra felt... alive. Alive and cherished—not just a tool or a weapon, but someone worthy of love and respect.

In that moment, standing amidst the chaos of battle, Umbra realized something profound—he didn't want to let go. Not ever.

___________________________________________

I know these aren't very long, but do these need to be long to enjoy them? Anyway, hope you liked this!

Seems a lot longer when writing them.

[aricat7]

DONT FUCK WITH BUCKS (alastor x reader x vox)

An opportunity of a lifetime enters your taxidermy shop, adorned with a smile~

Hi okay so i finally updated this baby after like a year and a half. season two of hazbin lowkey gave me the inspo to continue this fic. i actually really like this fic, just life catches up to you and stuff, you know? but here is the ao3 link to the story if you'd rather read it there than this blog post. Thanks for your interest! :D

Chapter 1:

“Imp heads….imp heads….I know I have one…” You say to yourself as you search through your back stock. Normally, you're a bit more organized and have all your ducks in a row so to speak, but business for you has been booming recently. So, less popular items - such as imp heads - are buried behind all the hot-selling items. 

You're relieved when you spot a set of curved imp horns behind a majestic elephant head, but scowl as you pick it up and think back to how fucking disgusting this imp was to you. Most people from this side of hell knew not to ever fuck with you, the others either learn very quickly or end up with a price tag on their severed head like this imp.

You leave the stockroom with a kick of the door and return to your waiting customer at the register. You hear him utter sounds of approval as you package up the head for him. As he's excitedly retrieving his wallet, the front door chime dings and a face you've never seen before steps into the low, ambient lighting of the shop.

And, wow, is this a face you're not gonna forget anytime soon. Or more frankly, the smile.

Perhaps you weren't the only one who found this particular visitor unsettling, for other patrons within the shop frantically scurry out the door when they take notice of him. Striding with a smooth grace, holding a staff with hands placed behind his red-suited back, he halts in front of the buck mount on the wall nearest to you. 

Switching your focus, you process the transaction for the customer in front of you and hand him his purchase. “Perfect!” He exclaims, hugging the box as if it's his last meal. “I've got a question though.”

“Yeah?” You say without looking up at him, doing a count of all the money in your register. 

“You got any…phallic items, perchance?”

“No.” 

“What if I uh… show you what I got on my display, huh?”

You slowly turn your head to him, eyes like daggers. “You need to leave.”

“Oh don't be like that, sugartits-”

Naturally, you grab the pistol in your desk compartment and point it at him. 

The smiling man enthralled with the buck mount watches the situation intently out of the corner of his eye with his deer-like ear flicked in your direction. 

Aggravated by the gun in his ugly face, the customer rolls his eyes and mutters, “Tch. Whore.” He turns on his heel and leaves with a huff, leaving you and this tall, mysterious man alone in the shop.

“What a charming fellow~” 

His staticky voice throws you off completely, your body stiffening for a split second as you put your pistol back in your desk. You steal a quick glance at him, his mannerisms and appearance giving you an old-timey vibe.

“Yeah,” you continue counting your money. “Last time it was a cannibal who got all mad when I told them I don't sell fresh meat.”

“Well, I'm sure that also makes for some lofty entertainment now, does it not?” 

“Sure,” you shut your register and look at the man again, the buck on the wall still absorbing all his attention, “until they threaten to gouge my eyeballs out and eat ‘em like olives.”

“Oh?” The man meets your gaze and it's as if that creepy smile of his is stuck permanently. “And what do you do next in such a situation, my dear?”

You nod your head at the display adjacent to him. “Add ‘em to my collection.”

He studies the cannibal section in what appears to be wonder, hard to tell with that damn smile. “My my, so slaying cannibals is your specialty?”

“Pfft, take a look around, dude. I own this place. All of what you see is my work.”

He cleans his monocle with a puff of air and scans the entirety of the shop - from the stoic wildlife to the variety of sinners who have crossed you. “You don't say? All by yourself?”

“Mhm.” You open up the display case of your entomological collection upon your desk and do a bit of fine-tuning, ensuring your array of roaches and moths are in orderly fashion. 

“Very impressive. You've got quite the sickening talent, darling~ No doubt it's part of how you wound up being here in hell, I'm sure.”

You look up from your mindless task and catch him staring at the buck mount again, realizing the man has small antlers atop his red hair. “‘Guy you're looking at related to you or something?”

“Say he was, would you provide me with a discount?~”

“Nope.”

The man chuckles. His eyes wander your frame from head to toe, but that's unbeknownst to you, since you're already glued to your next task: making a spreadsheet on your computer of everything you've got in your inventory - that way you’re not ripping your hair out looking for an item like earlier. Just as you're about to head to the back to get a count of everything, the man walks over to you and outstretches his hand across your desk. 

“The name’s Alastor, darling. Pleasure to meet you, quite a pleasure.”

“Yeahhh, no. I don't do introductions.”

“What a shame.” Alastor retracts his hand and sets his staff out in front of him in a poised fashion. “Such a lovely establishment, from the authentic - and overly priced - craftsmanship, to its spik and span environment!” He sighs dramatically, “Oh, if only I could know the name of its owner, the brilliant mind behind it all~”

You roll your eyes. “You gonna buy one of these ‘overpriced’ craftsmanship or not?”

He tilts his head to the side. “How long have you been here in hell, sweetheart?”

Your hand hovers over where your pistol is kept. “Enough with the nicknames. And it’s…almost been a year now.”

“A year?! Why, it takes many moons here in hell for someone to be as reputable as you are right now. You're quite the little entrepreneur!”

You refrain from grabbing your pistol because something is tugging at your brain, telling you to tread lightly; to play whatever this game of his he’s playing and to play nice.

“‘Preciate that.” You cross your arms and nod to a poster that advertises the Vees on the storefront window. “‘Think I’ll be as big as them?”

“Ah, the notorious Vees. Well, my dear nameless business woman, with one simple deal I can make that happen.”

You raise your eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Your ignorance is excused,” he retorts, sudden malice creeping in his tone and demeanor. He steps closer to you till he’s towering over you. “You really aren’t aware of who I am and what power I hold, are you?”

So much for playing nice.

You whip out your gun and point it at his chest. “How about you enlighten me before I decide on making a face mask for good ol’ buck up there?”

“Ooo, such a feisty one. I like that.” He puts his palm to the barrel and traps your weapon in his slender, pointed fingers. “I’m the radio demon, darling.”

Your eyes widen in fear, your hand loosening its grip on the gun. He gently, yet assertively, pulls your gun down to rest atop your desk - neither of you letting go of it. You've heard of the radio demon and the stupid amount of power he has - toppling over overlords at an unbelievable rate. A pure evil.

“I thought the radio demon had disappeared and has been gone for years.”

“And now I’ve returned~”

“Right…” You clear your throat and regain your composure, despite now knowing you don't stand a goddam chance against him. “Well, I won't make a deal of any kind with you. Please respect that.”

“Even if it means having the opportunity of a lifetime? To meet the Vees in person at the ball tonight, where overlords from territories far and wide shall gather in comradery and regal fun?”

“Yeah, like they’d let me in-”

Letting go of your pistol, he snaps his fingers and a fancy-looking document appears from thin air. An invitation for the ball, but the part showing who it’s addressed to is blank. 

“Just tell me your name and the invitations yours, dear. But, this is a deal I’m trying to make with you here, so I’ll need something from you in exchange.”

“Let me guess, my soul?”

“Oh-ho! While that is a very tantalizing idea, I have something else in mind.” He places the formal document on your desk and twirls his staff, positioning it behind his back. “I’d like your company over a nice dinner with me, after the ball.”

You flinch. “Not…not my soul?”

“No, no. Not your pretty little soul,” he eerily soothes. The corners of his smile stretch ever so slightly. “Unless, that is, you’d like to make a second deal where you’d allow me to have it~”

“Uh no, no…” You tap your fingers on your desk and stare at the invitation. 

I could meet successful people. I could gain insight and ask them questions on how to better my career…all at the cost of going out with the radio demon, without having to hand over my soul…

“If we do this, you stay out of my life after, alright?”

“But of course! Who am I to defy an astute and beautiful young doe?”

Slightly cringing, you take a deep breath. “Okay.”

He lifts his hand and delicately cups your cheek. “Your name, miss?”

“y/n.”

“y/n…” His thumb caresses your cheek with a feather-light touch. “Oh how lovely your name tastes, my darling. Let’s see what it looks like on paper, shall we?”

With another snap of his fingers, an invisible pen signs the blank space with your name. “Perfect! Looks as if it was meant to be, like it was written in the stars, those of which we cannot see from hell! Now, y/n, let’s finalize this.” He extends his hand before you. “Do we have a deal?”

You nod and shake his hand with a blank expression.

“Wonderful~” He raises your hand to his lips and plants a kiss on your knuckles before letting go. “Put on your best gown for tonight, darling, and do please bring a smile~”

A pitch-black shadow rises from the ground and shrouds Alastor, making him disappear. You blink, processing what the fuck just happened, and then yelp for joy. You're about to meet your idols! 

You take one last look at the poster of the Vees and start closing up shop early.

Chapter 2:

“Where to darlin’?”

You sit yourself down in the unkempt cab as carefully as possible, so as to not snag your dress. “Uh, wherever the hell this overlord ball is taking place…”

The hideous driver looks at you in the rear view mirror.  “Don’t think I've eva’ had an overlord step into one of mah cabs before.”

“I'm not an overlord.” 

“Coulda’ fooled me. You look real puuurty in that fancy lookin’ dress you've got on.”

You sure did. But, damn, did you feel so out of place wearing it. Not because you stole it from one of Velvette's boutiques (despite having the utmost respect for her, you weren't about to pay the price they wanted for the dress), but because looking luxurious wasn't your thing. You're a hunter—a hunter who’s about to have a once in a lifetime opportunity to be the first overlord of the profession here in Hell.

“Dunno where the party is at though, baby. How ‘bout we search for it, eh? Maybe I'll take my sweet time drivin’ around..”

You quickly unravel the invitation the radio demon made for you and skim through the intricately-fabricated font. “It's at the V tower. Take me there. Quickly.” No way were you fancying ditching the cab and trekking to the ball in your overpriced (and stolen) high heels.

The driver grunts and yanks the vehicle back on the road. “You got it, sugar.”

On the way, you grow bored of the same old yucky sights of Hell and look over your appearance. Am I in over my head? Will the Vee’s even take a liking to me?  

You pull your head out of your ass when you spot the V sign of the tower in the distance. You shove your doubts down and remember why you're doing this and the deal you made with Alastor. 

As the cab reached the end of the street of the tower, you suddenly gave no rats ass about how out of place you felt in your dress, or how much risk you had of falling from your high heels that were sure to make your feet ache well into the night, or the dread of paying the radio demon the price of this opportunity. 

None of that mattered. 

Meeting the Vees—that’s all that mattered.

You bubble with excitement and nerves, especially at the thought of meeting your favorite of the three–Vox. The showman himself. The innovator with a voice and personality that outmatched anyone else in the entertainment industry—no matter what screen held you hostage.  

Not wanting to wait behind the multitude of limos, you shove cash at the driver and barge out of the cab before he could try and open the door for you. Clutching the invitation at your heart, you gaze in awe. 

This is happening! This is really happening!

Oh fuck. I probably need to wait for Alastor.

You squint at the hustle and bustle in the distance. No radio demon in sight. 

The red carpet before the main entrance swarms of paparazzi that leach to those exiting the limousines. You locate a decent shortcut to avoid the hectic mess and do your best to not ogle at a few of the overlords you recognize.  

Mustering up a batch of confidence, you hand your invitation to the doorman. He takes it with a friendly smile—one that is rare to spot here within Hell and one that is nowhere near the sinister grin of the radio demon. 

"Um… I'm not seeing your name on the guest list. In fact, I don't think this invitation is even legit."

Shit. 

You begin stammering. “Uh… Um…”

This can't be happening. 

I need this! I NEED this! Is this just a joke Alastor wanted to see me in? Of course this is. How’d I let myself get tricked by something sounding so ridiculously promising—

"This lovely lady is here with me for the evening, my good sir~"

That old-radio voice pricked the hairs on your neck and blanketed you with relief. 

"R-radio demon?" The doorman freezes in place.

"Correct~" The gentle tap of his heels against the marble porch ground silence at your side. "But I think the name Alastor will be what is written on that list of yours~"

The shaken doorman gulps, a bead of sweat trickling down his panic-stricken face as he frantically examines the list. "Uh, um, right, yeah. You are, apparently. But she’s not."

"y/n here is my plus one~" Alastor’s hand snakes along the small of your back and holds your waist proudly, signaling an army of goosebumps from the heat of his touch. You'd break a guy in half for touching you like this, but getting inside the Vee building with no trouble is at the forefront of your mind. 

Plus, you remind yourself who it is exactly that's got his hand placed firmly on your waist and granting you this night here—someone who'd charge at you faster than you could pull the trigger. 

"I’m sure you can accommodate, yes?” He shows the doorman his own personal invitation—a legitimate one. 

"S-sorry sir. But that's not how it works here—”

"Are you sure?"

A stomach churning frequency emits from Alastor and shoots your spine with a stone cold shiver. A pressure weighs on your mind, making you nauseous. The doorman doesn't seem to be in a state of well being either, shaking in his formally-attired boots. You flinch at Alastor’s caress on your waist, like he’s letting you know that you're okay and that he's got this situation handled.

That he always gets what he wants.

"My mistake! Of course she's welcome!" the doorman nervously laughs and takes Alastor's invitation, adding both of yours to the pile with everyone else's. He gestures to the guards to open the front doors. "Right this way!"

The static dies. You let out a breath you didn't know you've been keeping and order your feet forward, Alastor's hand remaining at your side. His power is unlike anything you've ever experienced, and you know that that was merely a taste of what he's fully capable of. 

"I do apologize for that, my dear. Are you alright?"

"Yeah," you say almost immediately, shoving your fear of this man away as the soft sound of ballroom music welcomes the two of you in. The entire first floor of the Vee building has been renovated into an elegant ballroom, as if it's been pulled straight out of a fairytale. An intricately constructed fountain in the center. Food and wine galore. Satin ribbons hang delicately from the ceiling—below it hundreds of overlords dressed in gorgeous attire.

It's simply too pretty to be in Hell.

"So eager, you didn't even wait for me outside~"

"Sorry," you say, though it's obvious you don't mean it. You scan the area, looking for a particular overlord. Where is he? He’s practically the star amongst the constellation of overlords here. Maybe he isn't here yet? Maybe he's up in his office taking a breather from all the attention? Maybe he—

The red velvet suit of Alastor stands in the way of your searching. He cups your cheek— that damn smile of his unsettling as ever. 

"I’d appreciate it if you didn't give me such short and lackluster responses, miss (y/n). I know you're excited to meet the Vees, but let me remind you that it's a privilege of someone of your social standing to be here and how the benefits you've yet to gain from this opportunity is all thanks to me."

You close the distance between you two—your expression ablaze with challenge and resilience. "Then maybe you should've done a better job with my entryway, huh? Big overlord like you couldn’t put together a more convincing invitation and have my name on the guest list?"

With a dark chuckle, the gentle placement of his hand on your cheek becomes a firm grip. "I admire your wild disposition, miss y/n. It’s adorable how you believe that you are in any sort of position to be testing my capabilites~"

He leans down and whispers in your ear, "If you're thinking of treating the Vees in this manner, then I say we leave this event and begin our dinner reservations early~"  

It's at this point you realize some guests have their heads turned to you and alastor—s mix of surprise and confusion painting their faces. Oh Lucifer, you knew that accepting this deal and being here to network will better your career, but you hadn’t thought about the judging looks from others witnessing you accompany an overlord who’s here after seven years of absence, and whose name alone sends people hiding under their covers. 

Alastor pulls away, hand leaving your skin. Holding his staff neatly behind him, his devilish eyes rake your body, drinking in your undeniably stunning appearance.

You look down at the perfectly polished floor in return, trying to ignore how uncomfortable you felt with each lingering stare from him and the guests surrounding you two. “Alright, fine. I'll… hold my tongue."

"Oh good~ wouldn't expect anything less from an intelligent being such as yourself, lady y/n. And, might I add," he glances down again, admiring your form. "Your beauty tonight… certainly stands out among the rest, my darling~"

"Thanks." you say without a care, regretting that that might've been considered a 'short response'. But that worry drops when you pull your eyes off the floor and spot the purpose of your arrival across the ballroom, sporting a dashing tux with a glass of white wine in hand, bringing it up to his televised mouth. 

"Oh my god..." You start fixing, wildly hunting for any loose strands and brush off any measly spots of lint that may have accumulated on your dress. 

He's here. In the flesh. In the same room as me!

Alastor follows your gaze and scoffs under his breath. "Ah, there he is. The digital buffoon and his cohorts."

Your ears don't pick up alastor's snide comment, as if your brain has shut down at the sight of your favorite idol. You nervously straighten out your dress and repeatedly check yourself. Alastor watches your anxiousness towards vox's presence with amusement. 

"What happened to the confident y/n that threatened to kill me earlier at her shop, hm?”

You hate to admit it, but he poses a good question. Your body is weightless from shock. Unable to move. Feet rooted to the ground. So many doubts tug at your brain like they did back in the cab—

Alastor’s hand on your shoulder snaps you out of your racing thoughts. "Darling, I assure you, you will pique his interest. You've nothing to fret about."

You let out a shaky sigh. "You think so?"

"Certainly! He may be a real E-waste can, but he's got enough intelligence stored in that flat-faced head of his to recognize someone of great potential~"

You nod, letting Alastor's words of encouragement sink in and get a better grip on yourself. You can do this. You know you've got what it takes to be amongst the big leagues here. One day you'll have your own invitations to these events with everyone welcoming you with open arms and admirers kissing the ground you walk on. 

It all starts with getting the right assistance, and he's just across the ballroom with his back towards you, mingling with others. 

Alastor lightly squeezes your shoulder before letting go. "Make sure to tell him hi for me~"

"Wait, you're not gonna introduce me to him?"

Alastor sets his staff down and scans the crowds. "No, no. He’s a bit of a lunatic when it comes to my existence. If I were to get too close to him, he wouldn’t be able to contain his obnoxious temper. I’d rather that not happen during your introductions… aha! Rosie!"  

Alastor beams when he spots his friend. He then takes your hand in his and plants a kiss on your knuckles. "Come find me when you're finished conversing with that idiot. Have fun~"

You watch him stride away. Shaking off your nerves and with a flip of your hair, you saunter over to Vox. As you near him, the other guests within Vox's group eye you suspiciously—judgementally. He turns around to see what or who they're looking at.

As the bright eyes of his screen meet yours, your breath catches in your throat. You stop in your tracks and awkwardly wave.

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.

A grin spreads across his display, one of endearment. He waves back and finishes the last sips of wine from his glass and shoves it to the guest next to him, forcing them to take it from him. 

You lose all sense of reality as he approaches you. 

"Well, hello there. Never seen you before," he leans in, his eyes wandering every bit of you. "You aren't some new overlord that's about to threaten me with a bad time now, are you?"

His smooth talking voice sounds even better in person. You blink out of your inner fangirling and try to find your voice. "Oh no no no! I’m not an overlord… yet," you tease, nervously laughing.

You're too starstruck for your own good. Him taking another step closer to you is damn near a heartbeat away from a cardiac arrest.

"Not an overlord? Then how did you manage to scurry in here?" He tilts his screen and flashes you a killer smile, "Do I need to call security on you, sweetheart?"

You wave your hands objectively, your face flooding with heat. "No, no! I'm someone's plus one!"

"Really now? Huh. Didn't know that was allowed." he straightens his bowtie and scans your appearance again with a smirk. "Who's the lucky bastard you're accompanying, then?"

From what you've gathered from Alastor, the two clearly aren't the best of friends. You contemplate on lying—conjuring up a random name and then dismissing the topic quickly, but you figure that won't look good, considering you'd be lying to someone you're trying to get professional assistance from. And its Vox—the man himself. A person you've adored the moment your soul entered Hell. 

You cautiously admit, "Alastor..."

Vox nearly chokes on his own air before laughing in cynical disbelief. "I'm sorry, who? Alastor? The radio demon? I added his name to the guest list as a fucking joke. He actually took the bait? HA! You're not pulling my leg now, right—”

His brightness dims when he spots Alastor in the crowd. 

Waves of electricity fire between his top hat antennas. "THAT FUCKER'S BACK!?"

Alastor winks at him in return and his mysterious black shadows steal him away before Vox could try anything.

"My apologies,” Vox clears his throat, struggling to contain the storm of emotions. “He— him and I aren't on the greatest of terms, let's just say that. But uh… explain to me how in the Hell he scored with a babe like you?"

Your mouth turns dry and you try not to squeal—from excitement of ‘babe’, but also with disgust from him potentially thinking you and Alastor are some sort of thing. "Oh no no no trust me, it's not like that. We have this deal and all. But look, I just wanted to say—"

"A deal? Listen, doll, he's the last person in hell you'd wanna make a deal with."

Oh my god if he gives me another nickname I might as well be pronounced double dead right here in front of him. 

"It was a fair trade—"

"Is that my dress?" A female voice interrupts behind you. You turn around and see none other than the queen of fashion herself, Velvette. She scrutinizes your gown, roaming every minimal detail. "That’s my brand, isn't it? Of course it is. It must be. You can't find this fabric at any sort of mundane tailor." She stands with her arms crossed, looking too perfect as always. "Hmm… definitely not one of my best ones, but at least you don't make it look half bad, darling. What profession do you rule over? I've never seen you here before—"

"Velvette," Vox cuts her off with that smooth announcer quality. "This is.. .uh..." he turns to you, anticipating your name with an outstretched arm.

"y/n"

"y/n. She's not an overlord. Just someone’s plus one."

Velvette had already retrieved her phone from the chest of her flashy gown halfway through Vox's introduction. You'd normally perceive this kind of behavior as rude, but you wouldn't dare to ever think low of a Vee. Her phone dings with a notification and she starts to walk away. "Oh, I gotta go. Have fun with your peasant friend, Vox!" 

Her comment doesn't register for you. You're stuck in awe that you met her. Well, sort of met her. 

"Sorry about that, y/n. Velvette can be a bit… much."

"Oh no! It's totally fine! I'm still trying to process that I'm actually talking to you at this very moment, so..."

He chuckles—a low sound you’re gonna have on repeat in your head for the next millennia. "Well, I think her phone addiction is ruining her eyesight, because you look more than just half decent in that dress, y/n." his eyes travel down you, a lot slower this time. "You are… very easy on the eyes."

"Thank you..." you say in the smallest voice, realizing just how close he is to you now. You reign in your composure and remember why you're here. "Look um… I was wondering if I could ask you some questions and maybe get some advice on—"

"My, my. Who do we have here?"

The hands of a man grab your waist from behind. You jump a little and whip your head back. The face of the porn demon, Valentino, meets yours with predatory intent. "Who's this sexy Chiquita, Vox?" His hands slide down to your hips and then trail back up, stopping just below your chest. You don't know what to make of the situation, really, but it's got more of an effect on Vox than it does with you apparently—noticing the line of a knitted brow on vox's screen. 

"Val, how about we don't make new guests uncomfortable?" Vox speaks as if he's counseling a child.

"Uncomfortable?" Val tilts your chin up with a finger, his breath infused with the smell of tobacco. "Is that it, baby? Are my hands on this gorgeous body of yours making you uncomfortable?" His other hand starts to trek down past your hip.

"VAL!"

Valentino chuckles and lets go of you at Vox's robotic-blaring warning. "Alright, vox. no need to overheat your system. But who is this stunning woman, hm?"

"y/n." he answers dryly.

"Mhm. And is she looking for work? You know, I've got some positions open if shes… well, if she’s able to get into positions for me."

"Leave, Val."

"Oh fine. You're no fun," he says with an irritated sigh. He winks at you before turning away, "I hope to see you again soon, my little y/n."

You blink. What the fuck just happened?

"I am so very sorry about him too, y/n."

"Hey, no! Don't be! I mean, it's hell, right?" you shrug off the moment and give a dismissive wave. "I’ve dealt with far worse. That was nothing."

Vox begins to say something, but the announcement of a slow dance on the loudspeaker beats him to it. With it, rays of darkness erupt from the ground between the two of you, forcing both of you to step back.

The shock and confusion diminishes when you realize its Alastor, bowing slightly with a gloved hand out before you. "Miss y/n, may I have this dance?"

From behind Alastor, Vox's HD eye twitches. "Out of my way, Alastor."

"You can continue chatting with her afterwards, Vox." Alastor adresses without a glance over his shoulder.

"Oh! So you think after a seven year absence you can call the shots around here?"

"Vox, please, can't you respect a man who is politely asking a woman to dance with him?"

"How about we give her a choice, then," Vox practically shoves Alastor and offers you his hand as well. "y/n, who do you give the honor of escorting you to the dance floor?"

Vox. Between the two, why wouldn't you pick your idol? 

However, much to your dismay, you're reminded of your deal with Alastor and how it is because of him that you're even here in the first place. So, out of common decency—well, uncommon here in hell— you sigh and reject Vox. "It would be an honor to dance with you, Vox. But," you take Alastor's hand, not finding the right words to explain yourself outloud.

"Good choice," says Alastor with his shit-eating grin.

Vox buries his flicker of disappointment with a puff of his chest. "No apologies, y/n. I'll come rescue you after the dance, then."

"I look forward to it!" 

He shoots a cold glare at Alastor at the turn of his heel, making his way through the traffic of people before Valentino pulls him over to the dancefloor. 

You link your arm with alastors and walk beside him in silence. A soft ballad begins as the two of you hold each other in a formal slow dance position—one hand on his shoulder, the other interlaced with his at the side. Soon enough, the dancefloor is filled with people bundling up into pairs and swaying gently with their partners. 

You find it difficult to maintain eye contact with the radio demon. Though he's not causing trouble at the moment or isn't hurting you, he's still terrifying. You might be going crazy, but you swear you can still feel that power right here as you follow his lead, flowing from his hands.

"Learning anything beneficial from Vox so far?"

You quickly snap your gaze to his, his red eyes radiating an oddly comforting aura—too bad the crazed grin doesn't match.

"No, not yet. We were getting there before, you know, you stepped in."

"Must’ve been too busy yapping about himself, hm?"

"Not exactly. Nothing worth mentioning though."

"Hmm. Very well~"

The music, so comforting. You’re astounded that a melody like this actually exists in Hell. If only you weren't so tense. The radio demon’s hands on you, the critical looks everyone is shooting at you, the fear of being ridiculed by Vox, being laughed at for the dream you have…

"Relax, my dear," Alastor whispers as he pulls you closer to him, as if he can read your mind and feel your body stiffen. "Let yourself go. Indulge in the lack of chaos within this room at the moment—the peace and tranquility. Nowhere in Hell will you find a more rejuvenating atmosphere where everyone is of equal respect."

He's right. Not only is this a once in a lifetime opportunity for you, but it's probably the only time you'll ever be able to safely just… let your guard down.

You inhale and exhale, and dare yourself to lock your eyes with him. You let go of his hand and place it on his other shoulder. His eyes widen a bit, surprised that he’s able to persuade you without you barking at him, and his hand holds the other side of your waist. 

You say softly, "Look, even though I shouldn't technically be here, I do appreciate you making this happen for me. So… thank you."

"Of course! I’m delighted too." His breath meets your ear, "So long as you hold up your end of the deal~"

"Mhm." 

With him so close to you like this, you naturally pick up his scent. It’s earthy and mellow. Not bad.

"I think you'll enjoy what I have planned for us later," he continues to whisper, the radio-esque filter in his voice on pause. "I intend to bring out that wonderful smile of yours, the one that Vox can bring out so effortlessly… ha! Oh, I can’t believe my words. Never would I have thought that I'd be so envious of him..."

You can't help the slight bemused grin that forms on your expression as he pulls back. "Maybe if you weren't so creepy, I'd smile a lot more around you."

"Ah, there she is, bold y/n. I was beginning to think that she stood me up~"

You roll your eyes and shake your head in amusement. "Maybe you're not so bad. I mean, your ears contradict how intimidating you are..." you tilt your head, squinting at the deer-like ears his hair is shaped into. You reach for one. "These are ears, right?"

"Yes, they—" Alastor's ear twitches at your unexpected touch, though he's not appalled. In fact, quite the opposite. He bows his head, letting your fingertips rake through the soft hair/fur. 

"Huh..." from all the fur you've felt from the things you've killed to sell, you've never felt something so nice to the touch. "Your hair or fur or whatever the fuck this is would make for a nice blanket."

"Well now, who's the creepy one?" he questions, and you notice an odd strain in his voice.

You chuckle, exploring his other ear. "Seriously, I’m kind of amazed—" 

He grabs your wrist, "Not there."

"Oh..." 

He lets go as you shakily retract your hand from the spot behind his ear. "Sensitive?"

He pulls back to look at you, his eyes half lidded. "Dangerous~"

You look at him quizzically, and it isn't until the music ends that it dawns on you what you've just done. 

"Alright, deer-fuck," says Vox's approaching voice. "You can run along now, maybe run and flee to where you've been hiding all this time."

You let go of eachother. Alastor adjusts his monocle. "My, Vox. Still can't seem to mind your manners I see, even at a formal occasion~"

He shoots Alastor a hard glare before turning to you with a softened gaze, “Ready, doll?"

"Yeah... uh, yes sir!"

He smirks at that, offering you his arm. "Bye bye Alastor," he says smugly.

"Take care, my dear," Alastor says to you. “Do keep in mind that our dinner reservations are in an hour, alright?"

"Tch, please," Vox mutters as you depart with him. "y/n, right this way."

You nod at Alastor, putting the weird interaction of the slow dance behind you.

[darknessisnear]

|| Never Satisfied || AM x Reader

Warnings: Angst, very brief and vague mention of intimacy.

Word count: 347

Shout out to @burgerrat for giving me the inspiration for this fanfiction.

||»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»꧁♥︎꧂«««««««««««««««||

AM had made it no secret how much he envied humans. How he longed for their supple flesh, their flexible bodies, their senses. Their ability to wonder, to wander, to truly live.

And so whenever after over a century of pining, an artificial android body was finally created for him, he should have been happy. Right?

At first he was, marveling at each new sensation. The way warmth and coolness felt against his fingertips. The way sweetness tasted on his tongue. Their ability breeze blowing on his face.

But after several weeks. he had become accustomed to it. And he realized that it wasn’t enough.

He sat alone, his artificial legs crossed, staring out at the sky of the desolate wasteland.

You hesitantly sat down a few feet away from him. His new form made him much less intimidating, but you were still wary of him.

“What’s the matter, AM?” You asked, observing his melancholy expression.

“I’m not a human.” He replied simply, not bothering to look at you.

That gave you pause, and you frowned, uncertain of how to respond, “What do you mean? I mean… that’s true but, why do you care?”

AM snorted bitterly, “I mean that even though I have this body… even though I can finally feel… I’ll never understand what it means to live as you do.” He stated, “I’ll never know what it’s like to be cradled to sleep by the tender hands of a mother. To learn and grow out of youth.” He shook his head, “I’ll never plant my seed into my lover. Never watch her swell with the product of our shared affection. I’ll never grow old, watch as my skin wrinkles and my hair fades. I might have this body but… it means nothing.”

You didn’t respond for a while. His words rang true, and yet you couldn’t believe that he was still not satisfied.

“If you cannot be content after everything you finally have… I am convinced that you will never be satisfied.”

And AM thinks that maybe… just maybe… this human might be correct.

[afterdarkillusions]

A helping hand

Content: smut, Tenna x Reader, masturbation, wireplay, gender neutral reader, No use of y/n, you jerk Tenna off, Author does not own a CRT and does not know how they work IRL, Boss/Employee Relationship, Tenna is Insecure, Praise Kink, This TV man has me on a chokehold, Reader Is Not Kris, Spamton mentioned briefly, hurt/comfort if you squint, Size Kink, Tenna is huge what can I say ,Porn With Plot, Reader is a darkner, dear and darling as petnames

Synopsis: You and Tenna have been colleagues for some years now. You work backstage, but also take care of Tenna's health and check-ups. During one of his programs, he starts glitching, and although he seems hesitant, you decide to run a medical examination to see what is happening to him. Turns out, he has been keeping some secrets from you: Touching his wires actually turns him on a lot.

Word count: 7371

Cross-posted on AO3

Mr. "Ant" Tenna's TV Time was the only thing left keeping him sane. As less and less watchers turned his gaze at him, Tenna went from a bubbly host that loved to please his public to a desperate man, hanging on to the last of his viewers. He thought that, if he kept making programs, if he kept the show going, the family would turn their eyes upon his screen once again. He thought of them his saviour - one that could make the Dreemurrs come back together, all of them, to have a good time. Sadly for him, this had not happened in several years.

You had started working there when the Dreemurrs were still around. It was nice seeing the children play, as well as hang around in front of the TV. You remember Asriel's and Kris' conversations, their worries, and how they joked around. You remember the girls that came to visit sometimes, Noelle and Dess, and their family as well. Tenna always looked happy when the Holidays came around.

Perhaps he did not realise it at first — or did not want to. One of them, the older one, she stopped coming altogether. Little by little, the Holidays stopped visiting, and the Dreemurrs' relationship turned… sour. Fights broke out pretty frequently, for seemingly small reasons. Few times did Mr. Dreemurr stop to watch television now, often staying at work until well into the night. Toriel, however, did stay in front of the television screen, waiting for him, or trying to forget her problems.

During those times, you saw Tenna become… antsy, for a lack of a better word. His antennae twitched nervously, his usual, cheery smile seemed forced often. His mood-swings became even worse, and sometimes, when you passed his dressing room, you could hear the sobbing between the static noise that came from inside. You knew this was eating him alive, but you kept the hope, just as he did, that you would not be abandoned.

How wrong you were.

"And you cannot BELIEVE what he said to me!" You were listening to Elnina rant about his beloved. The Weather always sticks together, it seemed. Ever since those two began dating — and you cannot even remember a time when they were not — they seemed to be joined at the hip. Both invited you for a cup of something, and you accepted, even if it meant having to hear the two fawning over the other. It was, in a sense, sort of cute.

For years now, no watchers turned their eyes to you all. The dust had even accumulated in the corners outside of the studio. Many of the workers decided to relax a bit and live a calmer life. It was less exciting, and a bit lonely at times, but it was part of the lightners' nature to move on. At least you acted more or less like a big family in the studio.

"Goood MORNING everyone!" Mr. Tenna's booming voice made his appearance, just as he burst through the door. "Are you ready for another great day? Of course you are, of course you are!"

Most of you had learnt to adapt to the new circumstances in your lives. Mr. Tenna, however, did not. It was fair to say that the situation only made his insecurities worse, and those were pretty apparent, no matter how much he tried to hide them. Or perhaps you had just learnt to read him very well over the years.

"Well, well, well! Some of my best employees all hanging out together! Oh geez, I HOPE you're not planning to take over today's program! It's going to be a blast, you will see! Literally, even" Tenna approached the three of you, a wide smile on his face. He was positively beaming, so he probably came up with a new idea that he liked for today's show. It put a small smile on your face as well.

"Oh Mr. Tenna! We were just having some tea over here. Oh, and I was telling this VERY funny story of when Lanino told ME he wanted to get married! While he was asleep! Can you believe it?" Elnina was one of the few people that could match Tenna's energy. "Oh he was SO embarrassed when he woke up, I swear! I could almost melt when I saw his face go all red"

"Elnina, you're going to make me blush again. But how could I not think about marrying you even in my dreams? I just wish to be with you, even when I am asleep!"

The weather always sticks together. Listening to them was at least a bit less uncomfortable having Tenna around, because at least you had each other to feel like the third and fourth wheels in the situation.

"Well isn't that just adorable? The public would love such a story like that as well! And as much as I would love to hear it fully and with all the details possible, I am afraid there is no such time for that!" Tenna clapped his hands. He probably did not want to listen to the whole story. You could not blame him. "It is time to get ready! Come on, come on, we're going live in TEN minutes! I need you all to be ready!"

That was your cue to stop lazying around and get to work. Elnina and Lanino would have to get ready. You were lucky to work 'backstage', helping with the lights and any problems that may arise. After finishing your cup, you said your goodbyes and skedaddled to where you were needed.

Lights. Camera. Action. The new program began to roll. You got to give it to Tenna — It was surprising! Quite a 'blast', literally. One of those physical challenges of him involved cannons. One of the poor Shadow Guys got launched from them. As much fascination you felt for the show… well, you couldn't help but to pity him a little bit.

"And now my DEAR AUDIENCE! Are you ready for the next—"

You heard the glitch in his voice, and immediately perked up. His screen had gone dark for some seconds. Completely black, no light, and he got frozen in place.

"— it's going to be UNBELIEVABLE, let me tell you! Mike, prepare the scene! It's time for our wonderful actors to show us everything they've got!"

It was momentary, and although Tenna acted like everything was more than fine, his screen's light was still somewhat dimmer than usual. You could tell from the way he glimpsed at your direction that something was wrong, and he was worried.

Your brow furrowed. His antennae twitched. You saw him gulp, and swore that could even see him sweat, even if that was not possible. What had happened…? It was best to keep a close watch on him. You were ready to call the program off if it happened again.

Indeed, that ended being not the only worrying thing to happen. At moments, Tenna's screen became a tad bit too bright from its usual. His voice also stuttered from time to time, a bit static-y. It did not look too bad… but still, you could not help but to worry, and by the way he gesticulated to hide the shaking of his hands, he was not entirely reassured that those were minor glitches. He somehow managed to hide them well, the darkners in the public did not seem to notice a thing. Thus, Tenna was able to successfully finish his newest performance.

As the workers began to tidy up the scenario, you decided to approach the host himself.

"Mr. Tenna?" You called out from behind his back. This caused him to give a small jump, and then turned to look at you. For just a flash of a second, you swore you could see some static on his face.

"Ah! Well, if it isn't one of my best employees! How did you like the show today? Was it amazing? Great? I am sure of it! Did you hear how the public went absolutely wild?"

This was typical of Tenna. He only had two ways of coping when something went wrong: Lashing out at people, or pretending everything was fine. Somehow, the moments where he lashed out at you were few and far between.

"Yes, it was indeed a very good performance, congratulations" his smile seemed to grow even wider at those words, his antennae bobbing up and down a bit. "However, I would like to talk about what happened"

"Oh? Well I have no idea what you meant! I hope it's not because I launched that Shadow Guy out of the cannon. He is okay! Just a bit of dust and powder on him, don't worry, not a bone was broken! (I do not think they even have those!). Anyways, he knew what he signed up for! I can swear he even liked it the weir—"

"That's not what I was talking about" you cut him off, and this seemed to make him tense up. "I meant—"

"Oh, oh, you did not like the show? Come on, I know you LOVE reruns, dearest! But sometimes we have to experiment a little! You know, out with the old, in with the— I mean, not really! The OLD THINGS are as great as they were once, aren't they?" He was picking up the pace while speaking. " And people LOVE our old shows and performances! But isn't it amazing? By giving them something new they will appreciate it even more when the oldies come back! I do not know why you're so focused on this show, really, everyone loved it, didn't you hear them clap? Besides, it was a great idea, I always have great ideas, dearest! I've been acting and hosting these shows for many more years than you can imagine! I know, I know you were there too but hear me out I think you're forgetting that—"

"Mr. Tenna." You took his hand on yours, and he shut up immediately. His screen became, once again, a bit brighter. You could swear that you saw the faintest tint of pink on it as well. "It's okay, your performance was great, the show was great, but you know that is not what I am talking about"

The man audibly gulped. He took a deep breath, and once again tried to laugh it off.

"Oh, you know, it was just a small glitch, nothing to worry about! It's not like it's going to happen again, you know? You saw it, everything is under control!"

"Tenna."

"Y…you're just overreacting, I am as good as new, I swear! I…" he paused, and stayed silent for some seconds. "I… y…you think it's… bad?"

His voice dropped, sounding much more soft. You knew that tone of voice, and if you were not careful, he could burst into tears at any moment.

"I think it's worth checking. You've got any free time? I can get you checked up right now, and when we find the source of the issues… well, you won't have to worry anymore." As his hand was in yours still, you gave it a light squeeze, and offered the poor man a reassuring smile.

"I… I am free, yes and… and… you're right! Well, of course you are. You're always taking care of my health as much as you can, aren't you? I could not ask for someone better to fix whatever is going on."

The fact that he was constantly praising you even if you did nothing got a bit annoying sometimes. However, instead of telling him to drop the act, you decided to take advantage of how agreeable he seemed to be. It had been at least a year since his last check up, as he tried to avoid them like a tasque avoids water.

You ended up in his dressing room, door closed so no one could bother the both of you. Tenna had taken off his jacket and shirt, and was sitting on a chair. Due to his huge size, you had to sit on his lap to reach the panel located on his chest comfortably. It was a bit of an awkward position, but over the years, you both had learnt that this was the most efficient: your legs would not end up hurting from standing for far too long, and his back and knees would not ache from being in weird positions.

"I am just going to see if any of your cables are misplaced, okay? I'll try to be quick."

"Oh— uh, yes, yes, of course! Don't worry, just… just, uhm… be gentle, okay? (my wires are a bit sensitive…)"

"I know" you replied. "Just stay still for me, okay?"

The man held his breath, and his whole body tensed the moment your fingers moved one the wires inside his chest. His antennae shot up, and his face once again took that pink-ish hue. It was weird, as you were sure this wire had nothing to do with changing the hue of his screen.

"O—Oh ohhoh, uhm, be careful there, sweetheart! It, uhm, it is a bit… ticklish, as you k-know…"

"Yes, sorry, I will be careful"

Tenna gasped the moment you touched his wires again. He seemed to squirm under you. For someone so good at acting, he was pretty bad at hiding how sensitive his wires were.

"You're doing so good, Tenna." You murmured, not thinking much about what you were saying, too focused with the mess of tangled cables inside him.

"I… I am?" His voice sounded strained, somehow, as if he had been holding his breath.

"You are doing amazing, just a bit more, okay?"

"N…nngh— y…yes"

You stopped the moment that noise left his mouth. That… was the first time he made any noise like that. Was he in pain? This time you looked at his face, and put your hand on the side of it

"Goodness, Tenna, you're hot"

"O-oh, uhm, thank you? Y…yes, I… of course I am"

"I meant— you're overheating. Do you feel okay?"

"Ah!" He let out an awkward laugh. "N…Never better! Yes, of… of course. I, uh, darling, I might need a bit of a rest, though…?"

You nodded, and yet, your hand went in his chest cavity again.

"Just give me a moment, and I will let you rest. Will you be good for me?"

"Y…you sure? I… I mean, yes! Of course, I… I will, I will be… good"

You could hear the static in his voice. This time you were trying to go faster, so, unfortunately for the host of the program, you also became a bit less gentle while moving his wires and seeing that they were correctly plugged in.

"N-mgh… w-wait, I…"

One of Tenna's gloved hands came to rest on your hip. He squirmed once again. As your hyperfocus on him was broken, you now realised that he was…

Panting?

Your movements became slower, as you watched his every reaction. Every time your fingers brushed one of his wires, he shuddered. Tugging softly on one of them had him letting… was that a moan? It… it couldn't be.

After so many years, the realisation dawned up on you. Tenna had 'sensitive' wires, touching his insides was very, very intimate, and he…

He got aroused by the contact, you were pretty sure now.

"…Tenna?"

"N-nhgh?"

"Are you… getting turned on by this?"

"Goodness! H-how could you even think… that… I…?"

He fell silent, slowly. Your own face was burning as well. After all these years, you finally understood why he usually tried to get away from check-ups with you. It must be awkward, just as it was now. Especially as it was now, with you sitting on his lap while tinkering with something that was very clearly erogenous in him.

You wished to throw yourself into a pile of dust and be consumed by it. Reject your nature as a darkner, and instead, become a dust bunny, just to escape the shame.

"I… I did not want to make you uncomfortable" He said, avoiding your gaze completely. "T…the first times you came to check up on me you were so… so eager to help! And so, so nice to me and so… cute, really, I couldn't bring myself to tell you, that, well… my wires are a bit special." He finally admitted.

Your hand retracted from his chest cavity, and instead you rested it just below it. You never bothered to check his reactions, or… ask, really. You were just doing your job, and you were more than happy to help Tenna with it.

"It… it wasn't always like this, if you're wondering! I meant it years ago, I was just ticklish, but as time went on they became much more sensitive and, well, I did not want to be taking advantage of something you did not know, you know?"

His voice was much softer, from shame, from… fear, perhaps? Fear that you might leave him and not want to see him again. For some reason, the thought did not cross your mind.

"I just… did not want you to feel bad… goodness, I am a mess, aren't I? Of course I should have told you before, I… I am so sorry." As he kept talking, his screen kept getting darker and darker. "You're my employee, hell, my colleague!! We've been through so much together! And I have been a terrible boss and a terrible friend and now here I am overheating and glitching and just messing up everyth—"

A gasp escaped his lips the moment you tugged on one of his wires again. He looked at you, face now bright, mouth agape, completely perplexed. Your face might be burning, but you were going to use his own weakness for your advantage.

"Mr. Tenna" you said, choosing your words carefully "How long have you been having these problems?"

"M-My wires being sensitive? W-well, they always were a bit, but, over the last two years t-they've become much more, and the last few months? Almost unbearably so, I tried doing my own check-ups from time to time, but— nngh—"

You tugged a bit on another wire again, and that made him stop talking to let an embarrassed moan out. The times added up, it had been two years since Tenna had avoided his check-ups altogether. Before those two years, you just played a bit of 'cat and mouse' as you pursued him down the halls and he 'ran away', giggling as if it was all part of the show. You felt a bit of pity for the man. He had tried to check himself… but he was unable to as well? This looked like another symptom that you both should have noticed.

"What about overheating? Has it been happening more often?"

He hesitated before speaking, probably because your finger was still hooked on his sensitive wire.

"Y…Yes" the man admitted "A…at first I got very worried, the first times I felt myself overheating, and I tried to… to do a check up on myself but every time I seemed to make it…worse."

It was kind of funny to see how he stopped rambling during each reply, just to instead get to the point. You hoped you were not torturing him too much.

"I just want to check," You said, and he tensed again "am I… am I making you too uncomfortable? Just tell me if it is too much" this time, you let his wire go, he was free to speak as much as he wanted.

"Oh! Oh, well, I, I can't say it's completely comfortable, you know? But, uh, well, I mean, you're as uncomfortable as I am, I suppose! It's… It's not like I am going to die, it's just, well, it's not painful precisely, you know? Quite the contrary, but, uhm, I somehow still feel that I was taking a bit of advantage… well, at least until you started just freely tugging on them after learning how it made me feel. Now I am just, a bit confused if I can be honest? I…" There he was, rambling again, and he seemed to have noticed as well. "…I do not dislike it, if that is what you are asking. Like, I have my cutest employee sitting on my lap and touching some very delicate stuff. I am pretty sure you can get a pretty interesting X-Rated show out of something like this!"

That was Tenna's attempt at a joke, and you might have found it a tad bit funny, if not for the fact that you were still lingering on how he had called you 'cute' twice already. He was prone to praising and complimenting people, and it was not the first time he had called you that. However, the tone which he used in public, calling you 'cute' and pinching your cheek, was very different to how he said it now.

Your hands reached up, and you held his casing, deep in thought. Because of the position you both were in, your bodies were a bit closer now, as you stared where his eyes would be. He just stared back, a small, puzzled smile on his face, waiting for your next question, or trying to guess if you were displeased with the situation or not.

You went through an inner checklist of his symptoms. These could not be due to stress. Stress could play a factor in worsening them, but if you took his recently acquired higher sensitivity as a symptom, then it could not be due to stress. Everything you checked inside of him seemed to be working properly, no wires were misplaced, no strange sparks, no mouse biting at them. Apart from his mood-swings being a tad more frequent, his personality stayed the same, so no huge personality changes. His antennae and his body moved well and he responded quickly to stimuli, his colours seemed to be working… Nothing in your 'Tenna is actually dying for real right now' checklist was being ticked, apart from that moment where his screen went completely dark and he froze in place.

A stray thought crossed your mind, one that made you open your eyes wide, and that dusted your cheeks with colour. That… that couldn't be it, right? I mean, the symptoms and the way he was behaving made sense if it was the case. Tenna seemed to held his breath at your reaction, probably bracing for the worst.

"…Mr. Tenna? Would you be okay if I asked you some very, and I mean very personal questions?" Your voice was soft, careful. You couldn't believe you were going to ask your boss— your colleague— your friend, this.

"Well, it's not like we can get more personal than this now, can we? You've been tinkering inside of me for quite a while! Inside my chest, I mean, not… uhm… yes, you can ask"

You lowered your hands, and rested them on your legs. You could feel them sweating a bit, as you could not believe you were about to ask this.

"How long has it been since you last 'relieved' yourself?"

A very deeply uncomfortable silence fell between of you. It stayed like that for a few seconds, Tenna was probably waiting for you to say it was a joke, to change the question to something else. You were, however, very serious about that question.

"G…Goodness, dear! You, sitting on my lap, touching my body while I am shirtless and then asking that? What will the viewers think!" He let out an awkward laugh. "You are such a jokester sometimes, I swear! Did I ever tell you that you could make a great comedian if you start timing your jokes right?"

"There is no public here, and I am serious, Tenna."

His laugh died off, slowly. His screen was turning pink again, and he seemed to brace on for dear life to the arms of the chair.

"W-Well," he cleared his voice "not much, lately? You know I am a busy guy, dear, you know how much I work! It does not leave much time for free time, what is more, this should be my free time! I made a small and tight and quick slot in my schedule just so you could get me checked! I hope you know you are very important AND my health is as well and we should not waste time with—"

"And sex? I do not need to know with whom, just if you've been having… sexual intercourse?" You tried making it sound professional, and failed absolutely.

"Goodness, you're trying to kill me from embarrassment. You're trying to kill me and steal the spotlight." His antennae dropped, and he had to cover his face with his hand to hide how much he was blushing. You now very clearly identified that now-red hue of his screen as a blush. He would be sweating buckets, if he could sweat.

"You know that I appreciate you, and I would not be asking this if it wasn't absolutely necessary." After your words and a pause, you heard him sigh.

"I…I've been in kind of a 'drought' for… some years now? As, I, as I said, I am pretty busy, dear, and I do not usually have time to pursue those things, and it's not like I find many people in the company that attractive, and well, I am sure the one I find most would not be, uh, interested in…" his words died down as he looked at you, he was giving out too much information and the situation, the questions and the position were having quite the effect on him.

You would be curious and would ask who he found that attractive, if not for the feeling of something hardening and poking between your legs. Tenna's screen glitched momentarily. He looked like he could cry at any moment. You were pretty sure it was him who wanted to go become a dust bunny now.

"I… I am sorry, I am so sorry, I am a pervert, you… you just don't know what effect you have on me, dear, my god, I… this is deeply unprofessional. What kind of boss am I!? Having my dearest employee sitting on my lap and doing these things and… goodness, I am awful, I am an awful, perverted man, a-and you will leave and I will nev-ver see you again" he choked back a sob. His voice was becoming static-y again. You shushed him, holding onto the casing on the side of his screen again.

"Hey… I… I am not going anywhere, okay? Come on, Tenna… you know me better than that…" You had to reassure the poor man before he started full-on crying. At the same time, you felt like this was part your fault as well, as you had continued to tug on his wires even after he confessed.

Maybe, deep down, you were the perverted one that enjoyed seeing your boss become a mess under your delicate touches.

"I… you're not leaving, then…?" he sounded hopeful, and yet puzzled at the same time, as if he was testing your words.

"I am not, I… I think I know what is happening with you"

"Oh, oh, oh that is AMAZING! A diagnosis! I can't believe!" He now beamed with happiness, and you knew what was coming. "My life solved! My show saved! Oh, oh, I need to get a commemorative award for you for being the best employee ever! Get this WONDERFUL darkner an award MIK—"

You had to cover his mouth before he called for Mike. You did not know Mike personally, but somehow, you felt like Mike would be watching the moment he got called, and you were not ready for that situation yet.

"Tenna I… I think you're pent up." You could not believe your words, and to be honest, they almost sounded like a bad prank that you were trying to pull on your boss. "It makes sense, the overheating, the increased sensitivity, and worsening with stress. As you're overheating, it causes you to glitch, and the frustration is keeping you on edge"

He went silent once again for a few seconds.

"…Y… you're kidding, right, darling? Such an… easy answer? Where is the drama, the showmanship? Or, well, are you sure this is not some kind of X-Rated script I am completely unaware of? Where are the cameras…?" of course, he did not believe it. He probably felt a bit silly, knowing that the diagnosis was simply that he was horny and it was causing him to act up.

To be fair, you would have felt pretty silly as well if you went to the doctor and they simply told you to get laid to solve your problems.

"…Well," he started saying a bit after you took your hands away from his mouth, "I mean, I just need sex, right? Well, it, uh, shouldn't be too hard! I was a sex-symbol back in my prime, you know? Still am! (and besides, they DO say I age like fine wine)" he chuckled. You had never heard someone say that. "You know what they say! Hot DILFs are IN right now!"

You choked the moment he said that. You were pretty sure that he was, for one, not a father, and also that he did not have any idea what that word meant at all. That mailman he was around so much must have had been the one to teach him that word.

You were also pretty sure that it had been ages since he last flirted with someone, and he was probably set up for failure if he left with that tent in his pants, trying to pursue an evening full of passion. What you were about to propose was hard to believe, even for you.

"Or… I could… lend you a hand now"

Tenna almost short-circuited right then and there. He looked at you like you had said the wildest of things. It made you shrink back a bit, thinking that maybe it was not too good of an idea.

"I— are you— did— did you really— oh man, I, I uh— I do not know what to say— are you— like— I, uhm— I mean— I mean—" he started stuttering, his voice once again glitching just a bit. You could almost feel the heat steaming from his head. "I— like— are you serious— I mean— isn't this— just— I mean— a bit unprofessional?? I— I uh, I mean—"

"Y…you can also say no if—"

"NO!! No, that's not what I…" he interrupted you. "I, uh, I just… are… are you comfortable with that? Are you sure? Like, completely sure? 100% sure? 1000% sure? Are you sure there isn't a hidden camera anywhere?"

"I mean… Well, I know what you need now, and if you glitch out too badly I can react or see if there is another problem and…" You ran your finger along the edge of the opening in his chest and he sucked in a shaky breath. "I have been teasing you for a bit (even if at first I was not aware). I know what you like, Mr. Tenna" you heard him gulp again. "And I think if you leave this room like this everyone would notice your 'issue' now."

Those pants he usually wore left little to the imagination. They were usually pretty tight around his crotch, and although they seemed elastic… well, that only made the problem worse. Tenna was huge in size, and his shaft seemed to be proportionate to his height.

"B…but I will only touch you if you want, I understand if—"

"I do." He cut you off. His trembling hand came once again to rest on your hip, now tracing slow, gentle circles with his thumb. His voice was low, as if the both of you were sharing a secret. "I… I would love that, I think. No, I am sure. Are you sure?" He had to check again.

"Y…yes, I am sure as well." You nodded. "Can I touch you, then?"

"Yes…please" he murmured the last part.

Your eyes finally left his screen, and moved downwards to see the hardness that lay confined in his pants. A tentative hand reached out and pressed around it. Tenna let out a gasp. You wrapped your fingers on the fabric as best as you could, and as your hand started moving, the TV man let a shaky sigh leave his lips.

"A-ah darling… y…you're… you're quite bold, aren't you…?" he gasped once again, and his antennae trembled. "I… god, that feels good."

His words only served to encourage you further. As your hand moved quicker, you felt his grip on your hip tighten. Somehow, knowing that if he wanted to he could grab you like a doll only added to your excitement.

"Do you like this, Mr. Tenna?" Indeed, you were becoming emboldened by the situation. "Does it feel good?"

"Y…yes, yes it does, it feels very good, it— oh…nngh—"

He bit his lip, and you got the glimpse of a fang of his.

"C…can you please… please stop teasing me?" He pleaded "My… it's… well, the pants are starting to hurt a bit…"

"O-oh, yes, of course"

Even though these were a bit elastic, you could see how it would be painful to be encased in them. Aiding him, you let his erection spring free, and it almost hit his stomach. God, he was huge, and his dick now stood tall and proud between your legs.

"…E…everything okay, darling?" he coughed. You had been staring straight at his dick for a solid minute, and he was growing worried.

"Y…yes! Sorry!" You hurried to envelop his base with your hands, and he let out a drawn out moan as you did.

This was the point of no return, you thought. Your relationship had taken a huge leap, and through his arousal, you were sure he also knew that.

As your hands stroked his shaft, you couldn't help but to notice it felt… plastic-y. It should have been a given, as most of his body was made of wires, metal and plastic. Even though you were masturbating him, you were also marvelling a bit at discovering a new part of his body that you had never seen nor touched before. It felt a bit like silicon, hard, but still a bit squishy. You tested this by giving it a light squeeze with your hands.

Tenna let out a moan once again, he seemed to have liked that. A drop of pre-cum now adorned his tip. You gathered it and used it as lubricant to aid you in jerking him off.

"D-dear? Can I… nngh— oh, this is… that feels god yes— can I ask for…mh… for something?" At his words, you nodded. He seemed to ponder it a bit before asking, however. "C-can you… can you tell me I'm… good? Please?"

Such a small, tiny, puny request. You could have laughed at how predictable it was. Of course Tenna had to have a praise kink, it just made sense. If you told him no, he would probably beg for it. Seeing Tenna being so pathetic was… kind of cute, actually.

"You're being so good, Tenna" you cooed, and he seemed to relax immediately under your touch. "You're being so good for me"

Tenna was becoming a whimpering mess. It was simple praise, really, telling him that he was good. Just saying that was making him become putty in your hands, and he was not afraid to show you how much he liked it, letting sounds freely.

"You do such a good job each day… you make such great effort, so… you must be rewarded, right? For your hard work?" He nodded enthusiastically, and you felt him throb in your hands. You were starting to have lots of fun, knowing the effect you were having on this man. "You're such a good host, a great entertainer, everyone loves you, Mr. Tenna"

"Y…yes! Y—mghhh— y…yes?? You?? You do??" his screen had that red tint that you were starting to like so much. He was practically melting because of your words, and he seemed desperate to hear more.

"Of course I do, I love your show, your performances" His grip tightened a bit on you again, his fingers digging a bit on your skin. You moved a bit closer, and whispered: "I just love TV."

It was something a bit silly to say in the moment, and yet you could not believe the effect it had on him. He hissed in pleasure and even trembled. His dick was positively leaking now, aiding you in your job. You were starting to enjoy this far too much, and even smiled at the situation.

"Y—you— you don't…mmh— you don't know— oh god— what you're doing— to— to— MH!!"

A high pitched moan left his lips as you grabbed one of his wires again and pulled on it a bit. His body tensed and he bucked his hips, making you bounce on his lap. Your eyes went wide. You knew he was sensitive, but, hell, you did not expect that much of a reaction!

"P—-please, please, please, keee—p going— please—" Your boss begged. "—Again— please— do that— aggmmh—"

Such a sight, you could feel your mouth watering. Your efforts redoubled, one hand now masturbating him, while the other caressed and gently pulled at his wires. You were positive he was going to drool if you kept it up.

"So good, Tenna— so good! You're being so good, I cannot help but love the noises that you're making! Just a bit more, okay? You want to impress me, right? You're doing amazing, look at you, I just cannot stop looking"

Once again his hips bucked, and you bounced on his lap. This would fuel your fantasies later on, you were sure, and how you wished for a moment that you were not using your hands—

"D-deaa—ar? Darkl—ling? I— god mmmh— if you—kkeep—" he gasped for air "I—c—clos—e— plea—please!"

His words were a jumbled mess, but managed to get the message across. Both of your hands focused on stroking him now, so that only left one possibility to make him reach his most pleasurable climax. You closed in on him, and used your mouth to hold one of his wires and pull on it, feeling the small sparks on your tongue.

"aaAAA-aaAA—ANHH!! NNGH!! NNH—!"

Tenna's whole body tensed as he pulled you close, his cock erupting over your hands, his weirdly-static-y cum dripping over them, over his belly and your own legs. You kept stroking him during his orgasm, and he kept you locked in his arms as he came, his breathing ragged until he… stopped. Suddenly.

You released his wire, and noticed that his screen had completely blacked out.

"Ah hell! Tenna!" Panicking, you released his shaft, and were about to press the button to turn him on again when his screen lit up, and he gasped for air. For a moment there you almost thought you had killed him, either from pulling at that last wire so carelessly, or for having him cum too hard after such a long time.

"Whoah mama! That was! Whew!" He sounded exactly the same as always, cheery, albeit exhausted. His breathing was still ragged, but a smile was now decorating his face. "My god, darling! Who knew you had such skilled hands? And that last trick you pulled— using your teeth to grab at my wires? You really know how to tug at one's heartstrings! (literally)"

"A…are you okay? You completely blacked out there, I thought I…" you gulped. To be honest, it had scared you for a moment. It would have been awful if you had killed your boss. How would you even explain it?

"I am more than fine! I feel… I feel GREAT! Whew, it's like… it's like my body is all relaxed now, all… wow" He relaxed on the chair, although one of his hands was still resting on your lower back. "I… well, darling, I have no words to express my gratitude. I think you have exploded the fun-o-meter today!"

How could he be so silly, you would never understand. Nevertheless, his words and how casual he was brought a smile to your face.

"Although I… uh…" that pinkish hue seemed to have returned to his face yet again "I… I really made a mess, didn't I? I… It got everywhere, oh goodness, your clothes!"

Indeed, they had been stained, and they felt weirdly tingly, as well as your hands. You could feel your boss shrink a bit, probably from embarrassment, or because he felt guilty.

"Ah, don't worry, I will just go change and—" You tried to get up, but he prevented you from doing so.

"W…wait, you're leaving? I… Already? Can't you… Can't you stay a bit? (please?)" He pleaded, once again. You had been a bit careless, and knowing him… of course he would not want you to leave now.

"I… yes, I will stay, I am not leaving" You gave in. Getting the stains off your clothes was going to be awful later, but, well, you supposed it would be a bit rude to get up just now and leave him alone.

He hugged you tight once again, a smile beaming on his face. You felt his body cooling down, and were happy to notice that he did not burn to the touch anymore.

"Oh THANK YOU! I knew you were the best, dear, you ARE my best employee, after all!" He realised how weird that sounded just after saying it, so Tenna went on— "my best employee, and colleague, and friend! Of course, friend! E—even… something more? (perhaps?) And of course the cutest and most attractive with the best ideas and so, SO reliable and…"

"Tenna" You giggled a bit. He was back to his normal self, it seemed. You were relieved as well to see that this did not seem like just something that the two of you should forget. In fact, you found yourself pretty eager to, maybe, in the future, go further.

"Y…yes, I am rambling again. It's in my nature! My mind just goes too fast, darling" He nuzzled you, or tried to, as he rubbed his screen against your cheek. He then paused for a moment. "I… uh… if you want I can… return the…favour…?" he gave a sheepish smile, looking at you once again.

"Maybe another day" You replied. By the way his antennae dropped, you could tell he was a bit disappointed. "It has been a lot today, so I just… would like to relax now. I liked it, really. You're very attractive, Tenna"

That helped him stop sulking. Knowing that it was not just a one-time thing and that you were also willing to repeat what you did— maybe go even further, had him positively brightening.

"Let's just stay like this for a bit, okay? We'll move in a few." You said, as you wiped your hands on your clothes (they were already ruined, so). After that, you closed the compartment on his chest to hide his wires, and rested your head on it.

Tenna nodded, caressing your back with one of his hands. For once, he was able to enjoy the silence and peace around you. He had no doubts now— you had a special place inside his electronic heart, and he will do anything to make you aware of that. For now, however, he simply relished on the way your skin felt against his, how your body fit perfectly against his torso, and how warm and cozy you felt. Maybe it was you who he needed all along. Maybe life would not be so hard now, because he felt that as long as he saw that smile, he would never fade into obscurity. At least, for now.

[mintyys-blog-deactivated2025052]

I love your work, can I request invincible variants x reader who

can break the 4th wall?

HEADCANONS | mark variants with s/o who breaks the 4th wall

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST 2 | WARNINGS:

MAIN MARK

“So this is your character development moment,” you say, gesturing at nothing. “Cue the heartfelt speech, and maybe a swell in the soundtrack?”

Mark just blinks at you. “What are you talking about? Are you okay?”

You squint. “Huh. I figured you’d be genre-aware by now. Rookie mistake.”

“There’s… no soundtrack,” he says slowly. “Is this some kind of joke?”

VILTRUMITE MARK

“You’re acting like this is some kind of… story,” he growls.

“It is. You’re the hardened antihero from a tragic empire. I’m the wild card with unexplained powers. The shippers are gonna love this.”

His brows knit together. “What is a shipper?”

You just grin. “Exactly.”

MOHAWK MARK

“This is your edgy arc,” you say, watching him dramatically leap across a rooftop. “Moody. Shirtless. Probably doomed.”

He squints at you. “How the hell do you know what I’m gonna do before I do it?”

“Because I read ahead.”

“Read what ahead?”

You tap your temple. “The script.”

He flips you off and storms away.

SINISTER MARK

“You talk like someone who’s read my thoughts,” he says.

“No, just your Wiki page,” you say cheerfully. “Very dramatic, by the way. Love the angst.”

He goes still. “Wiki?”

“You really don’t remember the Season 2 finale? Oof. Repression is a hell of a coping mechanism.”

“What are you?”

OMNI MARK

“You always start the scene with a threat. It’s your thing,” you sigh. “Then you’ll say something about how I disappoint you.”

“You do,” he snaps.

“Boom. Called it.” You turn toward the empty air. “He’s so predictable. This is why they keep rebooting him.”

“Who are you talking to?” he demands. “What are you looking at? There’s nothing there!”

PRISONER MARK

“You ever wonder if this is all just some script someone’s watching for fun?” you ask, sprawled out beside him.

He flinches. “No… Why would you say that?”

“Because I see them.” You point past the ‘camera.’ “They’re right there. Watching us.”

He backs away, panicked. “Stop. Don’t say that. Don’t look at things that aren’t real.”

SHIESTY MARK

“You think you’re slick,” you grin. “But your arc’s been obvious since Episode 5.”

He pauses mid-sentence. “…What episode?”

“Never mind. Keep monologuing, it makes the edits easier.”

“Edits of what? What are you even talking about?”

You just wink. “You’ll catch up in the finale. Maybe.”

EMPEROR MARK

“Your empire collapses in like… six more chapters,” you say as you sip something that wasn’t in your hand two seconds ago.

He stiffens. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” You glance straight past him. “Quick, zoom in on his eyes. He’s doing the denial stare.”

“There’s no one there,” he says tightly.

“That’s what they all say.”

MASKLESS MARK

“You keep talking like this isn’t real,” he says quietly. “Like we’re… fake.”

“I’m just the self-aware love interest,” you shrug. “You’re the guy the audience cries over when you die tragically.”

His face darkens. “That’s not funny.”

“Tell that to the writers.”

FULL MASK MARK

“You don’t talk much, do you?” you muse, circling him. “Just dramatic body language. Classic.”

He tilts his head slightly.

“You’re the mysterious fan favorite. Enigmatic. Broken. Probably a walking metaphor.”

He doesn’t move. But something in his posture stiffens—like he’s starting to notice how weird you are.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, looking directly at the camera. “He doesn’t know we’re in a scene yet.”

TAG LIST: @onlybatsyy

[invoncible]

BLUFF ✰ mark grayson & mohawk mark w/ childhood bsf! fem! reader cw. canon compliant themes (ex. distress)

SUMMARY. when mohawk mark doesn't find debbie at his childhood home, he goes after the next best thing: you. he thinks you're together in this world too, and when he realizes you're not... well, how could he possibly give up such a perfect opportunity? / wc. 6k oops

— i started this to train my writing skills but it got out of hand T-T anyways enjoy <3

You didn't even notice your phone ringing. It must've been the third time it buzzed on your kitchen counter but for the life of you, you could not look away from the news. Invincible was laying waste to all the major cities of the globe, seemingly unprovoked.

Your breath caught when the news broke to process new information, senses finally tuning into the whirring behind you. You swiped your phone, barely glancing at the caller ID before answering.

"Hel—"

"Y/N, thank goodness." Debbie gasped on the other end.

You stood rigid. You've known Debbie your whole life. You and Mark were inseparable growing up—it was a rare occurrence to hear her so unnerved. Her unease was contagious, zapping through the wireless connection and taking root in your conscience.

"Are—" You cleared your throat, clutching the phone tighter. You walked over to the window, dragging down the blinds with two fingers and peeking outside. "Are you okay? You sound—"

"Fine, I'm fine." A shaky exhale was what you were met with, along with the sounds of a car starting up. "Honey, have you seen the news? You need to stay safe." A pause followed, too long to be natural. "Do you have anywhere else to go?"

You scrunched your brows in confusion. "Um... no, I don't. But from what they're saying on the news, the Invincibles are only targeting big cities."

"Listen. If you stay there—" Debbie's line crackled as you assumed she was driving away, far away from the neighborhood and fast. “—‘ll come for you.”

“No, you don’t have to do that. I've got my car if something goes wrong.” You pulled away from your phone, glancing at the call screen when you got no response. "Hello?"

"In light of new footage, we have information that—"

The TV fizzled out next, the low drone of cable replacing rowdy chatter of the newsroom. A low-pixel message of NO SIGNAL floated around the screen, bouncing off the edges.

You stared at yourself in the black reflection, wishing it would flip on again so you weren't alone with your thoughts. The paranoia was setting in... you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“Mark is—”

beeeeeep.

"Hello?" You whispered over the phone, desperate for Debbie's familiar comfort. “...Debbie? Mark is what?”

A rhythmic beeeep beep met your ears instead. You glanced at your phone once again—CALL FAILED.

"Ohhhkay." You muttered under your breath. This is fine, you soothed yourself.

The electricity in your house died out, gently setting you into darkness. With the TV signal lost and your phone disconnected, the cell towers and power grid were probably down.

This is fine. As long as you stayed inside, you'd be fine.

You pulled down the blinds once more, letting a shred of the sunset glow into your home. Your gaze travelled to Mark's house; across the street, a couple houses down. So easily accessible yet so distant at the same time.

You and Mark were attached at the hip for seventeen years—your entire lives. Separation should have felt strange. But just two years since growing apart, his absence almost felt... normal.

Almost like he was never there to begin with.

You went off to university. You assumed he did, too, but got more reliable intel when you connected with William. He shared that they both got into Upstate, as well as his girlfriend, Amber.

Girlfriend?

You remember the pause you took to process that information—the moment you realized he was moving forward while you remained where he left you. Facing the reality that you were no longer a part of his life.

"Stop fidgeting," You whispered with a little chuckle. "It's high school, not the end of the world."

"High school is where things start to happen." Mark whined as he pulled down the hem of his sweater. "Grades matter, who you hang out with matters, girls matter."

"Uh-huh."

"You think I would make a good jock?"

"You've got the look for it."

"Dumb?"

"Yes."

Mark rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips as you both walked up the steps to the next phase of your life. "That's not very nice."

"You can be anything you want, Mark." You groaned, deciding to be encouraging. "Literally. You're good at everything. You'll fit in wherever you want to."

"Okay. Too nice." He huffed and bumped into your side. "But thanks. I just..."

Your brows furrowed in concern when his head dipped, distress sneaking its way through his cheerful disposition.

"Stuff's supposed to happen this year. Big stuff." He was mumbling, unfocused like he regretted taking the conversation this direction to begin with. "I don't want to mess this up."

You wanted to tell him high school wasn't that deep. There were complete losers that all turned out just fine. Something about his expression, though... it was heavy.

You weren't sure what he was talking about, but you knew what he needed. You always did. "Whatever stuff you're talking about... it's gonna work out. You'll take it one step at a time just like you always have, and you have your parents at your side.... William, me."

He offered you a little smile. "We'll do this together?" He held out his pinky finger.

You giggle and interlocked yours with his. "Together."

He broke that promise pretty quickly. Different classes were the first step apart. From there, it only got harder to see each other.

Family stuff was Mark's favorite excuse—vaguely explaining family stuff had become 90% of your conversations. You figured he didn't want to tell you whatever he was really going through, which was fine. It hurt, but it was fine.

Before you knew it, you stopped talking altogether. You didn't think much of it at first—you were approaching adulthood, obviously you were going to get busy. You just thought you'd get busy together. You didn't even know what he was up to these days.

You drew back from the blinds with a long sigh, hoping that Debbie and Mark were safe. Wherever they were.

You trudged down into the basement to turn the generator on. The wooden stairs of the unfinished space crrrrrreaked under your feet. You waved away the dust, pounding your chest to cough the particles that snuck their way into your airway.

It was cooler down here, much darker without the ambient lighting of the sunset above. With your trusty phone flashlight, you managed to maneuver your way through the storage buckets and old boxes to the backup generator.

You grunted trying to pull the lever down. "Shit..." you cursed in disgust, feeling the grime and dust underneath your palm. i want electricity i want electricity, you repeated over and over to block out the icky sensation.

"Need some help?"

"Ah—!" you shrieked, spinning around in a panic. Your flashlight illuminated the figure in front of you, shadowed by the soft light of open door upstairs. "What—" who—?!

"Damn. Relax."

Vaulting over your initial dread, you grabbed something—a wrench or a hammer, you didn’t know, you didn't care—and swung it with all your might.

They caught it in their fist. Your breath shriveled up in your throat at how stiff they were, intercepting your attack without even budging. Their fingers curled tight around the tool and yanked you close.

"tsk, tsk," Their low voice chuckled. "Thought you'd be happy to see me, pretty girl."

You shone your light into the intruder's face, the tension in your body dissipating when you recognized—

"...Mark?" You squinted in the darkness, the flashlight just barely illuminating his face in a ghastly glow. "Wha... what are you doing here?" You huffed.

Blood was pumping through your system, telling you to get ready to run. Your nerves wouldn't calm their tingle even though you realized it was just Mark. Cuz it was Mark, right?

"Checking on you."

"Where's your mom?"

"Smart enough to leave home."

"Oh, yeah. She called. I thought you'd be with her..." You trailed off, frowning when you heard him laughing. "What?"

"Nothing." He hummed. "You're just so..."

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing."

"Okay..." You gave him a weird look. Then your brain caught up to you: Pretty girl? "Aren't you dating Amber?"

He took a moment to think, tossing the wrench aside and grabbing your wrist in his hand instead. "Am I?"

You pursed your lips, eyes narrowing. "I'm... asking you?"

He shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

"What—" You exhaled, brows knitted in confusion. You tried to pull away but he held firm; for every step back, he followed. "Mark, wait—"

Your phone clattered to the ground, the ray of light spinning chaotically through the darkness before it fell on its back.

"I missed you." He murmured lowly, almost reverent in the way he boxed you against the cold generator. "Shhh..." He calmed your trembling frame with his strong arms (when'd he get so strong?) wrapped around your shoulders.

He burrowed his nose in your hair. "It's me, bunny. Why're you so scared?"

This isn't Mark. Your heart pounded at your chest, eyes frozen and piercing into the darkness over his shoulder—Wake up, dumbass. This isn't Mark.

When your tremors refused to quiet, he pulled back with what you hoped was concern. That's when you saw his hair...

"Is that..." You whispered. The soft light from the main floor was fading, but reflected off the shiny sides of Mark's head. "Are you bald?"

What was he doing in the two years since you saw each other?

"Aw..." He laughed heartily, leaning further towards you and flattening his palms over the top of the generator. "Not quite."

He leaned to your side, breath fanning over the shell of your ear as he continued to snicker to himself softly. He grabbed the lever of the generator and shoved it down.

Your body jostled into his firm chest as it sprung to life. It went clank-clank-clank-clank, pumping electricity back into your home. You heard the melodic trills from upstairs as devices booted up again.

The light in the basement flipped back on. It didn't reach you. Mark towered over you and kept you in shadow. But you could see him—rather, who he wasn't.

"What?" Mohawk Mark grinned down at you, sadistic and teasing. "Not who you were expecting?"

No, not who you were expecting. He looked like Mark, sounded like Mark, felt like Mark... But your Mark had a kind face.

"You're not..."

"Nope."

You felt the heat drain from your body as you simply stared up at him, wide-eyed. Run. Where? Why the fuck was he dressed like ... Invincible...

A connection snapped together in your head, synapses clicking together like legos. Oh. Invincible. Everything made sense now, and you felt a little stupid for not figuring it out sooner.

And now one of those murderous variants you saw on the news was in your home.

"You're really out of it, huh?" He frowned, waving a gloved hand in front of your face. He sighed and looked away, "I thought you'd—"

You had the itch to burst into a sprint. You snatched your phone off the floor and ducked under his arm, skipping stairs to the main floor. Car. Keys? Where the fuck did you put them?

A shuddered whimper tumbled off your lips. You felt helpless, mind racing with too many things at once to pick one task and get out of there. You snatched your purse from the sofa, rifling through it to make sure your keys were inside before going outside.

"Come on, come on," You whispered, out of breath.

"Don't run from me, Y/N," Mohawk Mark sang teasingly, drawing out the last syllable of your name. "Hey, I'm just playing with you."

You screamed anyway, the sound harsh and high-pitched. He pouted, hand firmly around your arm to prevent you from breaking away.

"C'mon, baby. You're hurting my feelings. We're just having fun, yeah? A little roleplay?"

First off, you wished he'd stop calling you things like that. It felt wrong, but... good. With every pet name, he let butterflies loose in your tummy. Your heart pulsed, sending heat to your cheeks. Your brain reminded you, this isn't Mark... this isn't Mark... this isn't the real Mark...

Second, what kinda freaky ass fuck did he turn into?

You rolled out of his grip, barely making it a step away before his arm circled around your stomach, pulling you back into his chest.

"Get the fuck off me—" You squirmed uselessly, your phone and bag tumbling onto the floor. You yelped when he threw you over his shoulder, patting the small of your back affectionately as if securing cargo. "Mark!"

He just laughed, taking off through the door at a abnormal speed. Your nose smushed into his back under the acceleration, stomach somersaulted twenty times over as you soared up into the clouds.

He stopped in the air. With a hoarse shriek you clung to him as if he was your lifeline. He was, in this moment, despite everything. Your legs immediately latched around his waist, and he supported you with hands under your thighs.

"Oh, come on, now." He chuckled with a shake of his head. He easily held you and brought a hand to wipe your cheeks. "I'm just playing around. If I'd known you were this sensitive, I would've taken it a little bit easier on you..."

You hadn't even realized you started crying.

He stared at you, eyes trailing over your face. He laughed softly to himself. "Who am I kidding. No, I wouldn't have. You know how cute you are when you cry?"

You glared at him but his grin only grew wider. "What? M'not gonna hurt you! Haven't I shown you that?"

You stared at him incredulously, finally finding your voice and blowing up at him. Your fists curled, pounding at his chest and jabbing a finger in his face. "You broke into my home and have me hanging 100ft in the air?!"

"So? I'm not dropping you, am I?" You felt his fingers tap against your thigh.

"That—" Your cheeks burned. but from being embarrassed or flustered, you couldn't quite place.

"This world's Mark is the biggest piece of shit for leaving girlfriend all alone."

You blinked, "Girlfriend?"

"Yeah, you're..." Mark's head tilted, sharp eyes acutely aware of your confusion. "Ohhh. Don't tell me that fucker didn't lock you down."

You didn't even know what to say. Things were being thrown at you left and right and you were still on the fact that Mark was Invincible. Your mind rifled through all the headlines that had his name... all that pain, death, and destruction... and how you weren't there for him.

He clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Well. I'm a better version, anyway."

[]

The sun finally set on day 2 the war with no hope in sight. Mark just admitted Eve into the hospital—she stubbornly decided to help him with two of his variants and paid the price. Her broken leg was under construction, and she was unconscious.

Mark sighed as he closed the door behind him, looking up to see Cecil waiting for him in the hallway.

"You can't be here, kid."

Mark scowled. "The other Invincibles know about this place. They could kill her to get at me. I... can't lose another friend. I won't."

After Amber, Mark wanted to be with Eve. It was the next logical step, right? Both superheroes, went through a lot together, understood each other... But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not even under Future Eve's advice.

Not when he still held space for you in his heart.

He was an asshole for it, he knew that. He couldn't put a date to the last time you spoke and he selfishly held onto your memory. Were you pining for him like he was pining for you?

His time with Amber taught him a lot. He wasn't going to make you suffer like she did. He wasn't going to ruin the friendship he had with you just because he selfishly wanted your love.

"We're losing this, Mark." Cecil sighed, snapping Mark out of his thoughts. The bruise on his face throbbed with every word. "The world needs you."

"You got every superhero on the planet fighting for you right now." Mark shot back angrily, shutting his eyes only to see you behind his lids.

"Mark. Oliver's out there. Your mother's out there." Cecil pressed, pulling out his phone. "Which reminds me. She left a voicemail."

With his interest successfully piqued, Mark listened as his mother's panicked voice played over Cecil's device.

"I can't reach Mark—if you see him, tell him I'm at Paul's. Oliver insisted on going out there, and I let him on the condition he finds his big brother."

Mark's gaze dropped down to the floor guiltily, a war of emotions swirling inside him.

"I couldn't stop him if I tried. He was going to sneak out anyway, but..." A sharp inhale. "I'm worried. I know they're strong, I know that. But these other versions... they're nothing like Mark." Seconds of silence passed as she collected her thoughts. "Can you check on someone for me? If all these Marks grew up the same, there's a childhood friend on our street that he was never without. I tried to reach her but service went down. Please."

Cecil pulled back his phone. "I already sent agents to her home—"

Mark's head snapped up, gritting his teeth in annoyance. "What did I say about going near my family?"

"I wasn't aware she was family." Cecil raised an eyebrow, pocketing his device and pulling down his cuffs.

"They're my responsibility. She's my responsibility." Mark retorted, running a anxious hand through his hair.

"A thank you would be nice." Cecil mumbled, unperturbed by the boy's argument. "Seeing as you are currently shirking said responsibility."

"Don't—" Mark lurched forward, a threat on his tongue. Cecil flinched backwards, his hand firmly in his pocket finding his controller.

Mark pulled back, dropping his fist. "...Just shut the fuck up, Cecil." He blasted off through the halls.

Cecil watched him leave with bated breath, exhaling slowly when he got the intel that Mark was off the grounds. At least he was out there.

[]

"I killed the Guardians, yeah."

"All of them?"

"Yeah. No big deal."

You raised your eyes in surprise but the notion wasn't as gruesome as you thought it would be. Blinded by love, maybe? Or were you just happy to be talking to Mark again, regardless of the version?

Hours ago, you couldn't imagine sitting in your bedroom with the man who invaded your home. But, genuinely, what were you supposed to do? Pick a fight and lose? Worse, die? You weren't so stupid to waste the goodwill he held for you.

"What happened to me in your world?" You asked, your voice quieter now.

Mark tilted his head, exhaling through his nose. His jaw flexed, like the memory alone was an irritation.

"The resistance killed you to get at me," he muttered, his voice dark, laced with something sharp and unhinged. The crazed gleam in his eye flickered under the dim lighting, like a fire burning just beneath the surface. Then, with an almost amused sigh, he shifted his weight, offering you a small, self-satisfied smile. "Don't worry. I made them pay for it."

You didn’t bother asking how.

Mark’s arm stretched behind you, draping lazily across the back of the pillows, his fingers idly toying with the fabric of your sleeve. Every casual brush of his fingertips sent a ripple of goosebumps across your skin.

"We were a good thing, you know," he mused, voice lower now, softer. gentle. "You didn’t fight me. You didn’t run. You loved me." There was a teasing lilt in his voice that you recognized.

That’s not so different here, you swallowed the thought, masking it with a roll of your eyes. "Did you love me?"

That made him pause. His gaze flicked to yours, brows furrowing slightly, like the question had caught him off guard. Then a slow smirk tugged at his lips, amusement flashing in his expression before he let out a low chuckle.

He leaned in so close you could feel his breath ghost over your lips. "Let me show you," he murmured, voice dark and filled with intent.

The air between you tightened as his hand trailed from your sleeve, fingers dragging along the bare skin of your arm, slow and deliberate. His touch was light, teasing, like he was waiting for you to react—to pull away or lean in.

You offered him nothing but a careful stare and the slow rise and fall of your chest.

His eyes narrowed, delighting in the challenge. His nose brushed against yours, his lips lingering just shy of touching.

Pull away, your brain screamed at you, ringing every warning bell it had in the book. This isn't right.

But his other hand came up, grazing along your jaw... and his fingers slid beneath your chin, tilting your head up, forcing you to meet his eyes... all of it felt so familiar, like something out of a dream. And it'd been so long since you saw his brown wells, you couldn't tear your gaze away.

Your daze was broken when you heard him laugh again. He adored the way you frowned in confusion, the moonlight twinkling in the reflection of your eyes.

“Aww,” he cooed, lips curving into a knowing smirk. “look at you. So easy. This world’s Mark has left you all alone, hasn’t he?”

Your chest rose and fell with uneven breaths as he tilted his head, watching you squirm.

“S'like you’ve been waiting for this," he hummed. His hand gripped your chin, tilting your face up, forcing you to look at him. His eyes darkened at whatever he saw.

“I’ll take care of you,” he murmured, brushing his lips over yours—you could feel him smiling. “Since he won’t.”

Stop, stop, stop. You wanted Mark, wanted him desperately, but not like this. Not with him.

You released the breath you were holding when he paused his fixation on your lips, head turning minutely to the side as if he was hearing something.

"For fuck's sake..." Mark scoffed, a low chuckle passing through his lips. "Speak of the devil."

What?

Mohawk Mark heard the whistle of air before you did, only clueing in when it grew louder. It reached a peak when a projectile CRASHED through your window—

You scrambled backwards on your mattress as splinters flew everywhere. Mark caught you before you tumbled off the bed, shielding you from the broken glass and wood.

"What's—" You began to ask, but over Mark's shoulder you saw him—the real Mark.

You just stared at each other for a moment, though you couldn't see much past his tinted goggles. But the slow scowl growing on his lips communicated all you needed to know.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Mark—the real one—growled. "Get off her."

Mohawk Mark laughed into your shoulder, turning to face him. "Why? She's not yours, is she?"

Mark's eyes twitched behind his goggles, abandoning his inhibitions and diving at him, grabbing his variant's hair and yanking him off of you—

"Mark..." you warned, fear bubbling in your gut.

—your caution fell on deaf ears; Mark threw him up and drove him through the floor.

"Mark!" you yelled behind him, feeling the air whip past your face, following him as he crashed into the living room below. "Shit—"

Squeaking as you fought against the slope of the cavity, your feet, only clad in socks, provided the worst possible grip and you began slipping down the gap. Your breath caught in your chest as you felt yourself plummeting—

"Hey." His voice was urgent yet comforting, his arms tightening around your body in seconds, pulling you back from the edge. "I got you."

Your hand instinctively gripped his shoulder, grounding yourself as you realized you were suspended in his embrace. As he gently descended to the floor, your eyes moved quickly, scanning the outline of his goggles.

"You... I guess you know now, then." His voice was low, heavier than usual, like a weight he’d been carrying finally released.

The moment your feet met the ground, you stepped back, your heart pounding. Across the room, Mohawk Mark was sprawled on the floor, blood leaking from his nose, unconscious for now. Your gaze flicked back to your Mark, heart still racing.

"Yeah, I know." You snapped, the anger rushing through you, the frustration and confusion bubbling up.

His expression faltered, something unreadable flashing across his face before he sighed, almost too quietly, as if he were disappointed in himself.

"You’re angry," he observed, his voice tinged with regret.

"No shit, I’m angry!" Your hand shot out, slapping against his chest before it balled into a fist at your side. Every inch of you was yelling at him, every question, every unspoken feeling, everything that had been left unsaid for the past two years. "The first time I've seen you in two years and it's—it's not even you?"

"I know, I know," Mark’s hands moved to his mask, tearing it off with an impatience that only grew when it caught on his nose. He grimaced as he yanked it free, tossing it to the side. The dim light of the room revealed the exhaustion etched into his face, but even through that, you could see him—the real him, just... different. Worn down, tired.

"I can explain."

"You better fuckin start."

"Be mad at me all you want, but look at this." His arms gestured wildly around your place. "I was right to not tell you! It could've been way worse, way sooner if you knew anything about what I was really up to. Why didn't you leave when Mom called you?!"

"The phone cut off, asshole, I didn't hear everything she said, and I certainly wasn't aware that you were the one behind Invincible—"

He shook his head, dismissing the topic. He stepped into your space and held onto your arms. "Did he touch you?"

"Get off me."

"Did he touch you?" He pressed, shaking you slightly as his grip tightened around your biceps.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the urgent crack in his voice. "Yes, but I let him."

He pulled away from you as if burnt. A heavy silence hung in the air, nothing but the clattering of broken floorboards crashing down from above.

"...He's a murderer, Y/N." He whispered, eyes narrowed.

You knew that. You knew he was right. "I was... vulnerable."

"He killed people—"

"Shut up," You snapped, cutting him off. "Don't lecture me; this is a nonissue. What was I supposed to do? Hm? Want me to pick up my fists and come out swinging like you did—"

"I thought he was hurting you!"

"My hero." You rolled your eyes, the words dripping with bitter sarcasm. You knew you were being unfair, maybe a little cruel, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You were exhausted from the many near death experiences you've somehow survived in the last few hours. Strung so tight you felt like you might snap.

Every inch of you was begging to cry and let him hug you like you both so clearly wanted... but the fact that it took something this bad to get him to show up? That hurt more than anything.

Mark stared at you, his face an amalgamation of emotions, like he couldn’t decide on one.

Should he be angry at you for being difficult, for making him work for this moment when all he wanted was to explain? Should he feel pain, the sharp ache in his chest that another Mark got to hold you before he did? Or was it jealousy, searing heat into his face, that another version of himself had been the one to touch you, to be close to you before he had the chance? Maybe... maybe it was the bittersweet happiness, the relief that he was finally standing here in front of you.

He didn’t even care that you were glaring daggers at him—he missed staring into your eyes, albeit hardened and displeased, making his heart race; the way you’d furrow your brow when you were frustrated, the way your voice would call out to him.

Mark’s hand twitched at his side, wanting to reach out, but he held himself back. Would you even allow it? The distance between you was far more than physical. He had a thousand things to say but in that moment, words felt hollow.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he finally muttered, his voice quieter, more vulnerable than he intended.

Childish.

You scoffed lightly, rolling your eyes again. "All that time and that's all you have to—"

Before you could finish, your world spun. The floor tilted beneath you as Mohawk Mark launched himself into you, sweeping you off your feet and through the door.

[]

"Y/N!" Mark yelled after you, breathing heavy in a panic. "No, no, no, no—" He launched himself from your home, bursting through the roof after you.

You barely heard him over the rushing wind. You clawed at Mohawk Mark's back, the height siphoning the air from your lungs. "Stop..." You ordered weakly.

"Changed your mind already?" He laughed, cradling you in his arms. Your head lolled against his chest. "Don't tell me you buy his bullshit."

"Mm..." The sharp ascent from ground level to the clouds made your head spin, vision darkening as you grew dizzier.

"You're fucking dead!" Your Mark came out of nowhere, shooting up beside Mohawk Mark and bashing his nose in. With a pained groan, he dropped you. "Shit—"

"Look what you made me do, dipshit!" Mohawk Mark snarled, shoving Invincible away and bolting after you.

"Don't—" Mark growled in frustration, racing against time. He watched as your limp body dropped helplessly against gravity.

It never changed. Whether he told you or not, you would end up in these perilous situations regardless. He cursed under his breath, catching Mohawk Mark's ankle and catapulting him into the night sky before pushing forward.

He collected you in his arms before it was too late, wasting no time as he shifted his direction and carried you off to GDA's hospital.

[]

The steady beep... beep... beep of your heart monitor was the first thing you tuned into upon waking up.

"Oh, good."

Your eyes fluttered open, slowly drifting towards Mark. He was bent over your cot, his hand on your forehead while staring down at you with stars in his eyes.

"You just passed out. Nothing serious, but I wanted to make sure." He mumbled, pulling back.

Your eyes drifted back to the ceiling, unfocused and hollow. There was too much—too much to process, too much to feel, too much weighing down on your chest all at once. It pressed against your ribs, thick and suffocating, a tidal wave crashing over you before you could even take a breath. Every nerve in your body screamed with something—fear, exhaustion, embarrassment, confusion—but it all blended together into one overwhelming, crushing force. Your mind was shutting down for its own sake.

The sounds around you dulled into distant echoes, the weight of your own limbs barely registering. Your chest rose and fell, but it felt mechanical.

"Y/N?" Mark whispered, brows furrowing in concern. "Hey." he poked your shoulder.

You shook your head, turning away from him as tears pooled in your eyes. God, you felt so embarrassed.

Mark frowned when you shifted away from him, any comfort he planned to offer dying in his throat. "I'm... sorry." was all he could say.

Nothing.

His leg bounced nervously, chewing at his lip as he fought with his own emotions. "I want to kill him for putting hands on you."

Your brows tightened. Not what you wanted to hear either.

He sighed heavily, running his hands through his hair. "M'sorry for blowing up at you. It's not your fault—"

"It is." You sniffled. "I missed you... so much, that I pretended that he was you..." you choked on the words, turning your back to him and burying your face into the pillow. "How pathetic is that?"

Mark's heart squeezed, kicking off his shoes and climbing onto the bed next to you. "Stop. Not your fault." He reiterated.

You scoffed and shook your head, laughing wryly. He frowned, and pulled you to face him. He saw your tears and felt his own pile up behind his eyes.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. "I told my.... uh, last relationship that I was Invincible. It didn't end well for her, and I didn't want to put you in that same position. Always unsure, always in danger, always waiting..."

"I'm not her, Mark." You muttered.

"I know." He pursed his lips. "I was gone for months at a time—"

"I waited two years for you, didn't I?" You pushed away from him and sunk back into the cot. "You didn't even give me a chance."

Childish. That’s how you sounded. Because in the end, that’s all you two were—two kids who once grew up side by side finding each other once more, with all the petulant hurt coming through the surface.

A beat of silence passed between you, with nothing but your heart monitor to keep the time.

"You said he touched you." He started.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "...don't bring that up."

"No, I want to know." He shifted his weight, hovering over you. His face was painted with something foreign, green-eyed and greedy. "Show me."

Heat blossomed on your face as you lay in his shadow. "Mark..." You laughed nervously. "It was barely anything."

"You missed me so much you had to settle for that." Mark didn't look away from you for a second. "I want to give you the real thing."

You screwed your face up. Again, the thought passed through your mind: you wanted Mark, but not like this. "I don't want this to be a pity thing."

"No," Mark shook his head firmly. "not pity. Everything I feel for you has been there since... since I can remember. And it fucking boils my blood that a different version of me got to you before I had the balls to do it myself. Please," he whispered. "I need this."

"Need what?"

"You." He answered, like the answer was obvious. To him, it was. "I'm done waiting around."

You blinked at him before a soft smile spread across your face. "Me too."

Mark's lips brushed against yours with a gentleness that made your heart ache. He cupped your face in his hands, and you melted into him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

You let out a soft sigh when his lips parted slightly, allowing you both to breathe. You pressed forward, kissing him harder, feeling the intensity of everything that had been building between you over the years—years of longing, of waiting, of wanting something more.

Mark responded with equal hunger, his hands sliding down your back, pulling you closer. His chest rose and fell with each breath, his heart pounding against yours.

Where had he touched you? Mark didn't care anymore. By the time he was done with you, you'd know his touch and his alone, and he'd know every inch of you like the back of his hand. He wasn't leaving this room without it. He was allowing himself to be selfish for once; for you, it was worth it.

He sat back on his haunches, tugging his gloves off by his teeth before diving back into you, sliding his bare fingers underneath your shirt, sighing into your mouth as he squeezed your skin in his palm.

"You'll never need anyone ever again," He nosed your cheek, trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck. "Promise."

This time, you believed him.

— wayyy too self indulgent lmk if it was boring at places :)

© invoncible

[marshymallo]

“lmk if it was boring at places”

when i tell you i was completely HOOKED and on the edge of my seat the entire time i was reading this—

[yuutryingtowrite]

Yandere!Chef x Vampire!Reader

A/N: If you like this setting, consider reading about your male maid at the castle too. And, if you wanna know more about the levels, check this post :) . The Laios fan art is because that is exactly how I imagined Chef’s body to look like Warning: Not nsfw, but suggestive. MDNI. Chef calls reader "Madam"

Danger level: ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆

Submissive level: ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♡

_______________________________

Credits: @NGreentail on Twitter/X

~Your First Dinner with Him~

Yandere!Chef who is really oblivious. He has been staying at your castle for a while now and yet, he still doesn’t know that you are a vampire. You did try to tell him on his first day here that food is not substantial for you, but he had politely interrupted you with a “I insist, Madam. Please go rest, the food will be ready in a moment” and even guided you to the living room, by gently pushing on your lower back with his large, rough hand. You were too flustered by the gesture to continue arguing.

Your second attempt was during dinner. You thought about striking when he would go sit down after putting both plates on the table, but, much to your dismay, after that, he remained standing beside you instead. Confused, you looked up (realllllly up. How tall was this guy??) and found him nervously watching you. You were weak to his puppy look. You took a bite: “Hm! It is really good”. A smile broke on his face, his eyes turning into tiny crescent moons. “I am glad you think so, Madam! Please let me know if you have any special requests. I want to properly take care of you”, he enthusiastically, albeit a bit sheepishly, replied. Ugh, his expressions, his demeanor…way too cute. New hobby acquired: eating human food.

~His Favorite Dinner (?) with You~

Yandere!Chef, who you rarely see with a frown, who usually wears that soft and kind smile of his, looks rather uneasy today, some would say even depressed. The truth is: he can’t stand his body. Seeing it in the mirror this morning completely killed his mood. He was not aware of it before, as the change was gradual; however, it seems like he gained weight while working here as your personal chef. A number of his big, hard-earned muscles from years of underground fighting, like his pecs, his abdomen and his butt glutes, currently have a squish to the touch. They aren’t purely solid anymore. His form strayed from bulky to a bit more beefy. 

Why is that a problem? Well, ladies don’t find this attractive. At least, the ones from his village didn’t. He had witnessed it before. Had he stayed there, he would have been the subject of their disapproving and disgusted stares. Even among the regular folks, chubbiness was written off as being lazy and unreliable. You are too kind to think or do something like that, but he doesn't want your politeness, he doesn't want your open-mindedness, he wants your love. 

Lost in thoughts of new workout routines, he doesn’t notice his cut finger until blood starts to drip onto the vegetables. Ah…if he had dog ears, they would have flopped on his head. He already ruined his body, he doesn't need to ruin your dinner too. 

Turning around, it would appear that the person on his mind is right behind him. 

“M-madam! How did you get ther-", which is a very valid question; prior to this, there were no sounds owned by your footsteps nor by the kitchen’s door opening and closing. Yet, instead of answering, you just abruptly…grab his wrist and…put his finger in your mouth? At the contact, the broad-shouldered man makes a little noise. You don’t mind him as you begin to suck the blood out of the injury. 

He is very confused, he doesn't understand why you are doing this. The feel of your tongue on his skin, how you both are standing so intimately close to each other; it doesn’t favor his thinking either. It is actually making him lightheaded. Like is this sensation akin to pleasure that keeps building up the more this situation goes on. He lets out another whimper when your hand slides under his shirt to squeeze at the small fat of his stomach. 

As this snaps him out of his haze, he begins to weakly plead instead, without real conviction, to let go of his hand; he doesn’t want you to get sick. He could easily overpower you, but he can’t get his body to stop trembling. All he can do is bring a shaky hand to his mouth to muffle the sounds that keep spilling out since the feeling from earlier is now more intense, more delightful.   

Before this could escalate, you finally release his finger with a pop. You look up and find your poor chef completely flushed, his eyes unfocused, taking heavy breaths.   

Guess you owe him an explanation, huh?  

~H̶̝̿i̸̭̓s̴͉̿ ̷͉͑b̴̒͜e̶͊ͅs̴̠͋t̶̮͆ ̵̡̀d̴̟́ĩ̷̦s̷͛ͅh̶͍͛ ̵̣̃ ~

Yandere!Chef who now feeds you proper food.

“From which animal is this blood from? It tastes exquisite! I never had something like this before”, you excitedly ask him. 

“Oh, you know Madam, just ventured deeper into the forest than usual”, he answers vaguely.

He doesn’t want to worry you by saying it actually belongs to the rude asshole who pushed you the other day. 

Isn’t that sweet?

…

Drink well, darling

[multi-fandom-imagine]

➤𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗧𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗔𝗿𝗲𝘀 (𝗮𝘀 𝗟𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗱𝗮𝘀) 𝗠𝗲𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗬𝗼𝘂 || Ares ||

Each time Ares, disguised as Leonidas, met with you, something changed. At first, it was mere curiosity—a mortal who intrigued him, a girl too soft for a world ruled by war. But soon, it became something more.

Because the moment where he told you the truth you were finally his.

A/n: Beep Bop here is more.

1. The First Meeting – A Flicker of Interest

(The Palace Gardens, Under the Olive Tree)

You had been sitting under an ancient olive tree, weaving delicate patterns into cloth, humming softly to yourself. The sound stopped Ares in his tracks.

He had planned to observe Ithaca from a distance, but this mortal girl—this gentle, blushing thing—drew his attention against his will.

You looked up as he approached, your eyes wide, cautious, but not fearful.

“Are you lost, sir?” You asked, tilting your head slightly.

Ares smirked. Lost? He, the god of war, lost?

And yet—he did not move.

“Something like that,” he murmured, watching the way your fingers curled around the cloth. Delicate hands, meant for creation, not destruction.

“Would you like to sit?” You offered, hesitant yet kind.

Ares hesitated—gods did not sit among mortals.

But Leonidas did.

And so, for the first time in his eternal existence, Ares sat beside a mortal girl beneath an olive tree, and listened.

⸻

2. The Evening by the Fire – A Moment of Weakness

(The Servants’ Quarters, Late Night)

You had been sitting by the fire, rubbing warmth into your fingers after a long day’s work. You did not expect company.

But Leonidas appeared in the doorway, his broad frame casting shadows along the walls.

You blinked in surprise. “You again.”

Ares smirked, stepping forward. “Disappointed?”

Warmth creeped up your neck—a reaction that both amused and unsettled him. “No,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sat beside you, stretching out his long legs, staring into the fire. It reminded him of battlefields, of cities burning—but here, beside you, it was only warmth.

You glanced at him, fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. “You… don’t speak like the other men.”

Ares raised a brow. “Is that a complaint?”

A little smile twitched at the end of your lips, you shook your head quickly. “No. Just… different.”

He studied you in the firelight, something unfamiliar settling in his chest. “And you are not like other women.”

Your lips parted slightly, your fingers stilling against your lap. Ares had fought wars for far less than the way you looked at him then.

⸻

3. The Rainstorm – A Shared Secret

(A Hidden Corridor, Ithaca’s Palace, During a Storm)

The storm had been sudden, turning the sky dark, the thunder like a battle cry. You had pressed yourself into a small alcove to avoid the rain, your dress already damp.

And then—he was there.

Ares had been returning from his observations of the palace when he saw you—drenched, shivering, your hair clinging to your skin.

He stepped into the alcove beside you, his towering presence filling the small space. “You’ll catch a cold,” he muttered.

You looked up, breathless from the cold and from him. “I— I didn’t think I’d see you tonight.”

Ares—Leonidas—exhaled sharply. Neither had he.

Without thinking, he pulled his cloak from his shoulders, draping it around you.

You had froze, the heavy fabric settled over you, his warmth still lingering in it....his scent

Ares clenched his jaw, avoiding her gaze. Why did he keep doing this?

“…Thank you,” you whispered, pulling the cloak tighter around your body.

He hated the way it made something stir inside him.

⸻

4. The Night He Broke Antinous’ Hand – The Turning Point

(The Courtyard, Moonlit Shadows)

You had been crying.

Ares never handled weakness well—he was not built for softness. But when he saw you, trembling in his cloak after Antinous had torn your dress, something inside him snapped.

He had not hesitated. He had not thought. He had simply acted.

And after he shattered Antinous’ hand, after he had thrown him to the ground like the worthless creature he was, he turned back to you.

You had been watching him, wide-eyed, breathless.

He expected fear.

But all he saw was relief.

That night, when you leant against him, seeking his protection—it was over for him.

Ares was lost.

⸻

5. The First Kiss – No Going Back

(The Palace Courtyard, Beneath the Moon)

Ares should have left. He should have walked away.

But you had called his name, and gods help him, he had turned back.

“Leonidas…”

He hadn’t planned to kiss you. He hadn’t planned to ruin everything.

But then you looked at him—with trust, with something dangerously close to adoration—and he could not hold back.

Your first kiss with him was not gentle. It was raw, desperate.

Passionate.

Your hands fisted in his cloak, pulling him closer even as you shuddered against him.

And Ares—a god of war, a being of blood and conquest—kissed you as if you were the only battle he had ever wanted to lose.

⸻

6. The Moment He Almost Told you the Truth

(A Cliffside Overlooking the Sea, Just Before Dawn)

He had taken you here to see the sunrise, to hear the waves crash below, to breathe in air that was not tainted by the stench of the suitors who sought to claim you.

You stood at the edge of the cliff, wind tugging at your hair, your fingers curled around the edges of his cloak—the same cloak you had never returned.

Ares watched her, hands clenched at his sides. He should tell you.

That he was not a mortal man.

That he was not Leonidas.

That he was Ares, god of war, and he had never belonged to anything—until now.

You turned, smiling softly. “You’re always watching over me,” you murmured, tilting your head.

His breath caught. You had no idea, did you?

How he had fought entire wars and never cared for the outcome. How he had watched cities burn and never once felt regret.

How now—he would burn the world to protect you, anything for you.

He stepped closer, his fingers reaching—almost touching your cheek—before he pulled away.

You frowned, sensing something unspoken. “Leonidas?”

Ares forced a smirk. “Enjoy the sunrise, little dove.”

And for now, he did not tell you

Because gods were not meant to love mortals.

But he loved you anyway.

The storm raged above Ithaca, winds howling as the sea crashed violently against the cliffs. The gods were watching.

Ares—no, not Leonidas, not anymore—stood before you, drenched in rain, his bronze-gold eyes burning with something far more dangerous than war.

The truth.

Your hair was soaked, your eyes searching his face, confusion and something far softer lingering in your gaze.

Ares clenched his fists. He did not want to do this.

He did not want to see fear in your eyes.

He did not want to you her turn away from him.

But you deserved the truth. And he could not lie to you any longer.

“I am not the man you think I am,” he said, his voice raw, breaking against the storm.

You took a small step forward, shivering beneath the weight of his cloak. “Leonidas—”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Leonidas does not exist.”

Silence.

Then—a sharp exhale, barely audible above the thunder.

You stared at him, your delicate fingers tightening around the fabric of his cloak. “What… do you mean?”

Ares felt his chest tighten. This was it. The moment you would see him as he truly was.

He lifted his hand. The air around them shifted, the storm bending to his will, responding to the god who had commanded armies and watched empires crumble.

Lightning flashed, and for the first time, you saw him as he was meant to be seen.

The disguise fell away.

No longer was he just a rugged soldier with dark hair and warm bronze eyes. He was Ares.

His black tunic clung to his rain-soaked body, his shoulders broad and impossibly strong, his golden bracers gleaming beneath the stormlight. His hair was no longer mortal black, but dark fire, shifting like embers.

And his eyes—his cursed, immortal eyes—were not bronze, but molten gold, burning like the flames of war itself.

Your breath caught.

He expected terror. Expected you to recoil, to whisper his name in horror, as so many others had.

But you did not run.

She simply looked at him.

Not in fear.

Not in worship.

But as if you were truly seeing him for the first time.

Ares swallowed, his voice rough. “I am Ares. The god of war. The destroyer of empires. The breaker of kings.”

He stepped closer, his heart pounding. “And I have lied to you. I have let you believe I was something else—someone else. But this is who I am. A god who has no place among mortals. A god who—”

He faltered. Because you were still staring at him the same way you always had.

Not with fear. But with love.

You blinked, your eyes soft, almost knowing.

“Is that all?” You asked quietly, your head tipped to the side.

Ares froze.

The words struck him harder than any blade ever had.

You took a small step closer, your gaze never leaving his. “I already knew you were something more, Leonidas—Ares.” His name on your lips sent something wild through him. “I just… didn’t know what.”

Ares clenched his fists, jaw tight. “You should hate me.”

You shook your head. “Why?”

His breath hitched. Why?

Why were you not afraid? Why were you still standing before him, reaching for him as if he was not destruction incarnate?

“You are a god, Ares,” you whispered, stepping forward, your fingers soft against his chest. “But you have never hurt me. You have only protected me.”

You tilted your head, your voice barely audible above the rain.

“And I love you.”

Ares staggered.

He had been prepared for anything—hatred, terror, even the crushing silence of loss.

But not this.

Not acceptance.Not love.

His breath came hard, uneven, his control slipping beneath her touch. “You don’t understand—”

You reached up, cupping his face with her trembling hands. “Then help me understand.”

Ares broke.

With a growl, he crushed his lips to yours, a kiss that was not gentle, not mortal, but desperate and divine.

You gasped against him but did not pull away. Instead, you melted into him, soft where he was hard, warm where he was cold.

Ares had never known peace—but in that moment, in her arms, in the rain, he almost believed it existed.

And for the first time in his eternal existence—

Ares was not at war.

He was simply yours

[afterdarkillusions]

Oh, bunny... (wolf-hybrid!jock x bunny-hybrid!gn!reader)

Content: smut, bunny-hybrid!gn!Reader, Wolf-hybrid!Jock, pining, oral sex (blowjob, reader giving), semi-public sex, possessive behaviour if you squint

Synopsis: You and Jason have been best friends since you were children. As you grew up, the poor wolf-boy ended up developing feelings for the bunny that was always by his side. He never thought you could feel the same way, so he cannot hide his shock when you pull him into the bathroom with you. Not like he is going to complain, though. Word count: 4590

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When his friends approached Jason to let him know about a party at one of frat houses, he was not expecting them to invite you as well. It's not like his friends did not know about you… he just had not had time to introduce you to them, that's all! Some months — or, well, years now — in college is such little time to properly introduce his new friends to his best mate since childhood. Or perhaps it was because he knew their reputation, had seen how they talked about people they found attractive, and feared that as soon as they put their eyes on a hottie like you, they would try their hardest to seduce you. He knew that your body would attract those playboys as honey attracts bears. Jason was your best friend, and that was why he appreciated your beauty! From afar, of course. And besides, everyone knows about the rumours about bunnies, and one can only resist curiosity so much, right?

Maybe the other guys had picked up on his totally small and not at all obvious crush that he had been having over the last months… years, actually. It was not his fault! Your cute bunny ears on top of your head, those eyes that sparkled each time you saw your favourite show, or how focused you looked while you read, that little tail that wiggled every time he teased you… How could he not fall — if just a little bit — for you? And it was just a small crush, it was not like his tail wagged every time he saw you, and if it did, it was completely platonic, just as his ears perked up and he smiled like the stupidest idiot to ever walk on Earth. Sometimes Jason looked more like a domestic dog than a wolf when you approached him.

Well, maybe his crush was not as well-hidden as he initially thought, and some of the most perceptive guys had noticed that he was head over heels for you. Maybe that was why when that spotted hyena, José, approached, oh so friendly as ever, and invited him to that party, he looked at you and invited you as well. He trusted José not to try to get with his best friend, especially not after the look he shot at the man. José just laughed it off, patted him on the back and went his way. Jason would have tried to convince you not to go… but the way you smiled, and oh, how you looked at him… He would die if any of his words wiped that expression from your features.

"God damn it…"

So there he was, days later, looking for you through the rooms of a quite crowded party. He left just some minutes to get something to drink for you both, and you had completely vanished from the spot. The music was blaring, people were all around him, and he would normally not be so bothered by this… except for the fact that, this time, you were somewhere in this place and he did not manage to find you. Jason could not hide his annoyance, his worry, even if he tried. It's not like he was trying to be possessive or anything like that, he just knew that you did not go to parties often — or so he thought — so what if something bad happened to you?

"I swear, if someone gets their hands on—"

He had to stop his train of thought when he heard someone yelling his name, his ears perked up, and he turned around to see… you! And José. But, you! A sigh of relief crossed Jason's lips as he approached the place you were both sitting at. Why were you on the floor, even?

"Couldn't you wait for me? I've spent the last twenty minutes or so looking for you, y'know? I was almost thinking of calling your phone."

You apologised between laughs, and with another sigh, he just accepted those apologies. He was exaggerating, after all, and was just happy to see you again, and having fun no less!… What were you doing?

Well, that became apparent the moment he saw the bottle in the middle of a group of people. A group where you were included as well. And José. One of the guys from the frat and one girl that he had seen once or twice before in class were already sharing what was more than a peck. Jason stared straight at you, with those eyes of yours that made him give in to your every whim and desire. God, how he loved those eyes… How could he resist when you insisted on having him play spin the bottle with everyone? He knew this was a bad idea, but wouldn't it be worse to leave you alone with these people?

So, begrudgingly, and a bit hopeful, he accepted to stay. He took the spot right next to you, ears slightly folded back, and a scowl on his face. At least you looked like you were having fun, and you even fit right in with the rest of the group. He felt a strange pride in that, as sometimes he feared having to choose between you and his new friends (although the choice to him was obvious, it would not be less painful), or making you uncomfortable. Seeing you laughing and drinking along, as well as cheering for those who had to kiss, made him feel like, no matter what, you two could go to the end on the world and still have a good time.

"Jason, ¿vos estás en un cumpleañitos o qué? ¡Tu turno!" José's voice was what brought him to reality, and he had to stop staring at you like the idiot in love that he was. He knew not a word of Spanish, but the sentiment was there: it was Jason's turn.

"Do I really have to?" He eyed José, who just handed him the bottle and ushered him to his task. The wolf-boy groaned as he put the bottle on the floor and began to spin it. He did not want to play this game, but he agreed nevertheless, so there was no turning back now. Besides, at least he had an opportunity now, you were part of the group after all, so that meant that he at least had a chance, a small one, to kiss you. It was all to chance, and he followed the bottle with his eyes as it spun, and spun, and he prayed to all the gods he could pray to and the universe so it would land on you, and slowly, oh so slowly, the bottle stopped spinning…

And

It did.

It did land on you.

His eyes followed the mouth of the bottle to where it was pointing— at you. Directly at you. He could feel his mouth go dry at the thought, and he opened and closed it as his eyes darted between the bottle and you, who were looking straight at him. He felt his whole face grow hot in seconds, and heard José's laugh. Jason would make a mental note to hit him on the back of the head later.

"Uh— so— yeah… you… you comfortable with this, or…? Like if you're not… I can… well…" he gulped and tried to dismiss it, although he could feel his head beating against his chest. He could feel his desire to put his hands on your cheeks, pull you close to him and kiss you, and by mere instinct moved a bit closer. Jason swore he could feel the gates of heaven itself opening up to him, as you laughed and shrugged, saying that you did not mind kissing him, it was just a game after all. God, how he had yearned for a moment like this one.

You shifted closer to the wolf-boy, as did he to you. He raised one of his hands to your cheek. It's not like he had not touched you before like that, there had been many times that his hand had caressed your skin. Yet… this time was different, wasn't it? Jason felt like the luckiest guy alive… and yet, he felt a pang of guilt, knowing that he was the only one that felt this way, and was taking advantage of the game to finally taste your lips.

How many times had Jason imagined what your lips would feel like against his? The first time he did, he was shocked to be thinking about such things to start with. It was one hot summer, you were both eating ice cream and he saw as you licked your lips to clean them. It was a fleeting thought, but he knew that people do not think those things about their friends. Those thoughts became more and more common as time passed by, and yet they could not prepare him for that moment.

Your lips were even softer than what he had imagined, they molded perfectly to his, as if they were made to be kissed by him. He could still taste some of your drink on them. He could feel his hand trembling slightly due to the sheer emotion that he felt. It was as if he was finally drinking straight from the Gods' sweet nectar, and the Gods were unaware of it.

It was you who broke the kiss, leaving him with a dumbfounded look on his face. Jason's tail was wagging non-stop, his whole face flushed, and as you stuck your tongue out at him playfully, he could not help but chuckle. He could indulge a bit, at least just for that night, for that moment, and cherish that memory forever. No matter what happened in the future, it was clear to him — he would never be able to erase the feeling of your lips on his.

Although he wanted those seconds to last an eternity, the game still continued. It was getting boring pretty quickly. He stayed close to you, and your hands started to trail up and down his arm. Your fingertips left a tingling sensation on their path that made his skin tickle pleasantly. You did not know, but part of the reason he started working out was because he wanted your eyes to be on him, so having you touch his forearm like that brought a sense of satisfaction.

"Hey fam, your turn"

A black-haired girl passed you the glass bottle that had been previously spinning. Jason's blood ran cold at a sudden realization: you were not just a passive participant in this game, but an active player. That meant someone else would get to kiss you if you spun the bottle, and he was already missing your touch as you set the bottle down. It's not like he could stop you, even though he wished. He was just a friend to you, nothing more, and even if he wanted to make any excuse to pull you away from the situation, he couldn't.

So he watched. He watched with his ears folded back as the bottle spun round and round. He analysed everyone in the crowd: from those that seemed uninterested on what was happening, to some whose eyes lingered a bit too long on your figure. If he had no manners, he would already have growled. He never thought of himself as too possessive… and yet, there he was.

However, it was by a stroke of good luck — another one, he might have run out of luck already — that the bottle landed on him. He could not believe it at first. A first time was getting lucky, a second one!? That was crazy. José was laughing hysterically at what had happened. The hyena even fell backwards, laying on the floor and grabbing his stomach. It was probably due to Jason's dumbfounded face. He could not believe that was happening, and then he turned his eyes onto you.

"Are… uh… are you sure about this? Like, once was alright, but twice… I mean, I am not against it, but I wouldn't like to make you uncooomf…" He had to stop dead in his tracks, eyes wide and mouth agape, as you threw one leg over his lap to straddle him. If your intention was to make him shut up, he got the message clear as day. He could feel his pounding heartbeat on his chest, his throat, and even his head. You may have found him adorable sometimes, but he was babbling too much and you knew he would not stop stuttering anytime soon.

Jason had to stifle a moan the moment your lips crashed against his. This kiss was much more intense than what he was expecting, much different from the previous one you had shared. Were you teasing him? Because it was working. He could feel once again your mouth on his, but now your hands were on his shoulders, your legs straddling his lap. You were hovering over his lap, almost sitting on top of him. Jason could go insane if you kept going like that. A trembling hand found your hip at the same moment you slipped your tongue into Jason's mouth. His whole face was flushed, which was a miracle, considering that most of his blood was travelling downwards… He could feel his dick twitch to life inside his pants, and he was sure that any slight movement you made would make you notice it as well, as it rose from its slumber.

The kiss felt both like an eternity and an instant at the same time, and as you pulled away to catch your breath, Jason was already missing your sweet lips. At that moment he remembered that you two were, in fact, very much not alone, and a wave of shame swept over his poor heart. The moment you moved, everyone would be able to see that he was hard as a rock, and that just two kisses were enough to get him going like that. God, he was sure José would not shut up about it for months, and he would be lucky if the rest of the party did not hear about his shameful erection from just two kisses.

The wolf-boy gasped as you turned around and sat on his lap. He knew you could feel his hard-on pressing against your backside, and yet, you chose to sit on top of him? Were you trying to protect him from public shame? He did not know whether to be grateful, or to die right then and there, as you, his best friend, could feel how 'happy' he was to be with you. He felt himself twitch once again, and for a moment thought he saw your smile widen, but that could only be his imagination, right? There was no way you would be enjoying having Jason's erection pressing against you, or… maybe he was just underestimating how much his friend could enjoy sex altogether. He did not think about your sex-life often, nor did you talk about it that much with him. Was it weird? Should he ask more about your sex-life? Or would that be crossing a boundary as your best friend?

His dick did not care for boundaries right now, though. He gulped, and put his right hand on your hip, trying to act casual. He was doing an awful job at it. Jason's ears were alert, and his whole body tensed every time you shuffled on his lap, which was not too often… but it was enough to drive him insane. Were you doing that on purpose? No… you couldn't be, right? You would not tease your best friend that way. He was… almost sure, although that conviction was faltering a bit now. Sadly for him, he came to a realisation in that instant— his turn was once again approaching now, and the thought of it just made him huff in annoyance.

The way your ear twitched just a bit — probably because his breath blew against it — meant that you had heard him. Probably noticed his unwillingness to continue the game. That is why, when you asked him to accompany you to the bathroom, he immediately agreed. He got a few teasing whistles and yells, but paid them no mind as you both got up from the floor. He kept close, still trying to make his erection not too noticeable — probably failing, but people were probably too immersed in their own fun to notice. With a hand on your lower back, Jason guided you through the place.

"Uh— thank you for, y'know, gettin' us out of there. I didn't wanna continue playing. Once or twice is fun but… didn't want anyone… y'know, noticing too much?" he laughed, awkwardly "I'll wait for you here, I will, uh… have calmed down by then, I suppose"

You grabbed the lower part of his T-shirt, and signaled with your head for him to follow you inside. Your lips mumbled something he did not quite catch, something about not keeping him in that state anymore. His body and heart did not even hesitate to follow, although his mind had some second thoughts caused by the embarrassment of knowing that you, his best friend, his true love, had felt how hard he got with just a few kisses. Nevertheless, the wolf-boy followed you into the bathroom, and closed the door behind him. Jason may be stupid, but not an idiot, so the moment when your lips crashed onto his did not come as a shock this time, and instead he groaned into your mouth.

For how long had he fantasized about kissing you? And now he had done so three times already. This time he was not as gentle nor passive as before, as he pressed his body against yours, and his hands closed around your hips. Jason needed those lips like a man lost in a desert needs water. He craved your touch, your skin, your body, and he could not have enough of it. Jason got quickly lost in the wave of sensations you provided, in the leftover taste of the alcohol in your mouth as you parted your lips and let him inside. His tail thrashed wildly behind him, and was the first to thump against the wall as you cornered him.

Funny, a wolf such as him, cornered by a bunny. It was as if the roles that nature had placed on your species had reversed, and at the same time it felt so… natural. Your lips left his, and he was close to letting out a whine at missing your sweet mouth. He had no time to reclaim your lips in another kiss, though, as before he could blink you were already sinking to your knees.

The sight left him speechless. His eyes were wide, as you undid his zipper and pulled his dick out. Your fingers wrapped around him, and he could feel the throb of his own blood flow. He saw your smirk, the way you were looking at him, teasing, but with a clear lust hazing over your own eyes as well. As your mouth moved to press a kiss to his glans, the wolf-guy threw his head back with a moan. Hell, he had never been a vocal one, what were you doing to him?

It feel dirty, sinful even, to have his best friend kneeling, kissing and caressing his cock. Both of you, locked in the bathroom as the music from the party could still be heard, although muffled. The way you kissed Jason's shaft, licked it even, he thought he could go insane at any given moment

"God, are you sure about—" Jason could not finish the sentence, as your warm mouth finally enveloped the head of his shaft. He took a breath through his teeth, and his hips bucked slightly. Your tongue circled his head as if you knew exactly how to make him crumble, and he thought all those rumours about rabbits and sex as being real in that exact moment.

He had to hold on with all his strength to not thrust inside your mouth, and let you suck him at your own pace. He was torn between closing his eyes from the pleasure, and also due to a bit of shyness at the situation, and keeping them open to see how you engulfed his hardness. Jason opted for the second option, as if he could engrave the image of you between his legs in his mind. His right hand found your head, and Jason ran his fingers through the strands of your hair. He gulped as his wandering hand found its way to your bunny ears, so soft, and cute.

"You're gonna make me lose my mind with that mouth of yours…" The wolf-boy stated, as you took him out of your mouth and rested his glans on your exposed tongue. His dick was glistening with a mix of your saliva and his pre-cum, and he appreciated this slight pause that you took to catch your breath… he wouldn't like to cum too soon. "You're far too good at this, y'know that?"

You giggled, and he could not help but to chuckle. He should feel more awkward, but seeing you so at ease ended up calming him a bit. His hand found your ears once again, and he caressed them slowly, carefully, as he stared at you through half-lidded eyes. God, you were so perfect. You were astonishing, and he could not help but to stare with a dumb smile.

Your words, however, made his hand stop in his tracks. What…did you say? Did you really ask him to fuck your throat? Really? With that sweet voice of yours, pressing a kiss to his thigh? He hesitated, if only for a moment.

"You sure? I… I don't know if I will be able to hold myself back"

But you nodded, eager, even. Who was he to deny your desires? So he just nodded back and took a deep breath as you took him in your mouth once again. Jason felt like this was a dream, one he did not want to wake up from.

"Just… tap my leg three times if it becomes too much"

His hands grabbed the back of your head, and then he gave a tentative thrust. It felt… good. Far too good. Your mouth was warm, wet, slick with your saliva, and you looked so, so good on your knees like that… His thrusts were calculated not to make you choke — although, maybe, there was something deep inside of him that desired to see you ruined by his dick, gagging on it as drool escaped from your sweet lips.

But he tried to keep his thrusts in line. At least as much as he could. He was just a man, and your mouth felt divine, so sometimes he gave a stronger one that made you gag. The wolf just muttered a 'sorry' the first few times, but you did not tap his leg, not even once, which made him stop apologising altogether when that happened.

Soon enough he was thrusting freely into your mouth, covering himself in your spit as he gripped your hair. He groaned, and let out moans and sighs as his release approached. His eyes were closed, ears folded back as he used your mouth just like a toy. Your name escaped his lips a few times, and he grew more and more desperate as the minutes passed by. Soon enough, he could feel that familiar knot coiling in his lower stomach, and his instincts took over as he pivoted his dick into your mouth over and over again, sliding in and out of your lips, your tongue pressed against him. He moaned out loud, not even bothering to keep himself quiet anymore.

"F...Fuck, I…I am… I am going to—"

Jason tried to warn you, he really tried, he would have given you the chance to pull away if you had wanted to— which you, really did not seem to want — but he was far too desperate, too lost in the pleasure to even give you an option. With a cry, he threw his head back as his cum erupted from the tip of his dick, feeding it to you straight into your mouth, and you swallowed every drop greedily. His hands were still glued to your head, and Jason kept it in place as his cum flooded your mouth and landed on your tongue, as he moaned between ragged breaths. His vision even went white for a few seconds… before he slumped back on the wall.

Jason took a minute or two to catch his breath and open his eyes again. You were still on your knees, licking the remains of his cum from your swollen lips. A few drops had escaped from them, so you gathered them with your fingers and licked them clean. You tried to get on your feet again, and as he noticed your legs trembling —probably from kneeling for far too long — he took your hand to help you up, and pressed you close to him.

"Just… just give me a minute" He exhaled, closing his eyes as he embraced you. His mind was still processing everything that had just happened. It was great, yet his body still craved your contact, although not sexually at the moment. He just needed to feel you close, to come to terms with the fact that it was the real you, and this was not just another wet dream of his.

His body relaxed the moment he felt your arms wrap around him as well, and decided to enjoy a few minutes of just embracing you, hearing, once again, the distant sound of the people and the music, just beyond the door. Jason felt fortunate at being able to hold you like that, even for just a few minutes, to be able to feel your skin, and your heartbeat. You were his best friend, and also the person he loved most in this world.

After a while, he pulled you away, just slightly. The wolf immediately regretted the distance between your bodies, but he intended to solve that soon enough. His hand rested on your cheek, and slowly, even giving you time to pull away if you really wanted to, he claimed your lips once again in a sweet kiss. He could taste himself on your mouth, which was not too great, but he could live with it if it meant kissing you once again.

You were the one to pull away this time, and after a small peck, you walked towards the door. You glanced back at him, and motioned with your head to follow. He tucked himself in and tidied up his clothes before following you behind, like your loyal wolf that he was. He would always be by your side, no matter what happened, to fulfill your every desire.

The situation had left him puzzled, especially about the relationship that you both shared now. He did not know if you were just helping him out, or if you wanted to keep having sporadic sex from time to time. However, that did not matter now. Jason left the bathroom trailing behind you, a pleasant smile upon his lips. Because no matter what happened in the future, you were still his best friend, his bunny, and the one person he was madly in love with, and would be until the end of his life.

[skopostheorie]

Visceral is EASILY top ten words that feel good as fuck to place precisely into your essay one glorious time