Chapter Text
"Who the hell summons a demon in the middle of the day on a Thursday?" Sonar griped. "Seems like more of a Saturday night activity, to me."
"It is," said Malevola. "A lot of the good demons are booked all weekend. You have to settle for a weekday appointment, if you don't call in advance."
Sonar raised an eyebrow. "And how does one call in advance?"
Makevola shrugged. "Telephone, mate. Same as anywhere else." She shifted her attention back to the door they stood in front of. "You ready?"
"Not sure how much help I'll actually be like this." He gestured to all of himself—his hybrid form, ill equipped for fighting. "But yeah, rip it."
Malevola knocked, and a few seconds later footsteps could be heard approaching. The door to the frat house swung open to reveal a young man in hooded red robes, whose eyes darted back and forth between the two heroes in apparent confusion before settling on Malevola. "Are you—? We haven't completed the ritual, yet. How did—?"
"We're with the IRS," said Sonar. "We received a tip that an organization located at this address has been erroneously filing as a nonprofit. We'd like to speak to someone in charge."
Predictably, he tried to slam the door shut, but Malevola was faster. She rammed her shoulder into the wood, and the man stumbled back from the force. The door hit the wall with a crash that reverberated through the entryway and gave Sonar an excellent view of both the room beyond and the now-fleeing cultist.
Malevola sprang forward and pinned him to the ground in seconds, while Sonar trailed behind, chittering to make sure there was no one else in the vicinity. "I think this floor's clear," he decided.
"Where's the summoning circle?" Malevola demanded.
"Fools!" the cultist howled. "You will never stop the Great Coming!"
"Sure, man, whatever." Sonar planted one shoe on the guy's back so Malevola could stand and open a portal to the holding cells at SDN headquarters. When she was done, he took her sword in a practiced motion and they switched places. Malevola flung the still-squabbling cultist through the portal like he weighed nothing, Sonar tossed her her sword, and boom, bad guy secured.
"Ally-oop!" Sonar gave her a gleeful high five. "Slam dunk, babey!"
"You know it. Now, where's the rest?"
Sonar closed his eyes and swiveled his ears. "Basement."
He followed the faint sound of chanting through a common area littered with old beer cans and red solo cups to an unassuming door near the kitchen. As soon as he opened it, a sinister energy surrounded them, and he felt his hackles rising, on edge. The two heroes shared a nod and began to make their way down the stairs.
The basement was mostly filled with junk: boxes of Christmas decor, a pair of cornhole boards, a beer pong table that had seen better days, and a washer and dryer that had to be from the nineties, at least. Said junk had been pushed to the outer edges of the room to make space for the large, surprisingly intricate pentagram that had been spray painted onto the concrete floor. A group of nine cultists were gathered along the edges of the circle, all chanting in latin, if Sonar was remembering his languages correctly.
One of the robed figures turned as Sonar and Malevola reached the bottom of the staircase. "Hey, Tony, who was at the—holy shit! That's not Tony!"
The chanting stopped abruptly, and the eight other figures turned as one to glare at the intruders.
"Where's Tony?" said someone else. An inquisitive murmur swept through the group.
"He's taking a piss," Sonar tried.
"Bullshit." The murmuring grew angrier.
"They're trying to stop the Coming," said the cultist at the head of the circle. "Get 'em!"
The room erupted into motion. Sonar yelped as he barely managed to duck a punch, disoriented by the sudden cacophony. He swung low, catching his attacker in the gut and bashing him in the back of the head with his elbow when he doubled over. Even as one fell, another took his place, managing to land a blow to his temple that made his ears ring.
Someone grabbed him from behind, trapping him, and the man in front got him right between the eyes, snapping his head back painfully. Panicked, Sonar flung his foot out and kicked him into the pong table, then thrashed until he managed to sink his fangs into the arm of whoever was holding him. As soon as he was free, he turned and kneed the final man in the dick, kicking him for good measure as he went down.
Sonar wiped his bloody mouth on his arm while he tried to catch his breath, then checked on Malevola. He didn't need to look far—she was dealing with the last of the others, clobbering him with the butt of her sword and likely concussing him. Behind her, the final cultist was still chanting, quieter and more urgent than before.
Just as Sonar opened his mouth to warn her, the single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling exploded, throwing the room into sudden darkness. In the center of the pentagram, an eerie pink light appeared, splitting open the floor to make way for the clawed hands that burst through. The creature pulled itself from the portal, crawling, form shifting and shivering in a way that made him sick to look at. It drew itself up to stand on two legs, slowly solidifying into…
A woman.
Her skin was a light purple color, and she had pointed ears and horns, like Mal, but other than that, she looked pretty normal. She was wearing a tight black leotard that seemed to have materialized with her, and she was watching him with bright pink eyes. Sonar watched her right back, gaze darting downwards toward her ample—claws!
Obviously, her claws, which looked quite formidable as she trailed them slowly upwards along her own torso toward her chest, until she was cupping her—
Okay! This was getting weird.
Sonar knew never to underestimate a sexy lady. After all, Mal was one of the sexiest ladies he knew, and she was fucking terrifying when she wanted to be. He fixed his eyes firmly on the woman's face and began backing away.
She was following him. "Mal?" he called, uncertain.
Malevola looked over her shoulder as she kicked the lead cultist into a portal. "Fuck!" she swore. "That's a succubus, Sonar. Don't let it touch you!"
"Right, got it." The succubus was matching him step for step. Her forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air, and her tail lashed like Mal's did sometimes when they sparred, right before she—oh fuck.
Sonar threw himself back with a shout as she lunged, fearsome claws grabbing at where he'd been moments before. "Malevola!" he shrieked, scrambling away in blind terror.
"I gotta deal with these assholes before they get up!" She threw two more of the robed men into the portal. "Just—run, Sonar!"
Sonar was already doing that, but he picked a more targeted direction at Malevola's instruction and made a bee-line for the stairs. He took them two at a time, throwing himself through the door at the top, heart hammering in his ears. The succubus, who was decently shorter than him in her chosen form, lost precious time on the staircase, and he'd already darted behind the kitchen island by the time she crested the top. She stalked closer, cloven feet lound on the linoleum tile, eyes narrowed to predatory slits.
She inched around one side, and Sonar mirrored her, keeping the counter between them, the only barrier between his more feeble form and certain doom. God, why did he always end up in physical fights with supers in his hybrid form? He could handle normie criminals, like this, but supernatural creatures were a whole different ballgame.
They orbited the island in a tense stalemate. One rotation, then two. A hysterical laugh bubbled up before Sonar could stop it, and he reached up to grip his ears with shaking hands. "God, it's like Dead by Daylight. Fuck—!"
The succubus leapt onto the countertop and darted forward, effectively vaulting it. She caught Sonar by the throat before he could escape and slammed him into the wall with deceptive strength. The impact had him blinking spots from his vision, hands coming up to clutch at her arm, but her grip was like iron.
"Have you ever thought of trying basketball?" Sonar croaked. "You've got a crazy vertic—ohgodpleasedon'tkillme!"
Her grip tightened, cutting off any further pleas for mercy and leaving him struggling for air as she leaned in. The world grew fuzzy at the edges, until all he could see was her fanged grin looming closer and closer.
And then she kissed him, right on the tip of his snout.
All Sonar could manage was pathetic, questioning wheeze. The next thing he knew, the grip on his throat was gone and he found himself slumped against the wall, trying and failing to catch his breath. A crash to his right drew his attention back to the kitchen, and he turned to find Malevola with her sword buried in the ruined surface of the counter, snarling. The succubus, smaller and faster, leapt up to slash at her while she struggled to dislodge it, dancing around the taller woman's attempts to kick her away.
"It's so on, bitch," Malevola hissed, hot and growly in a way that made Sonar's stomach flip. She left her sword where it was and snatched a pot and pan from a nearby drying rack. The succubus swung again, and she blocked the swipe with the pot, then swung the frying pan into the other demon's head with a echoing clang, which sent her reeling.
Malevola met Sonar's eyes over the rubble of the kitchen island, expression twisting in concern. "You good, mate?"
Sonar flashed her a floppy thumbs up. "Yeah!"
She didn't look very convinced, but the succubus tackled her before she could say anything else, straddling her hips and slashing straight down toward her face. Sonar couldn't help but feel a little jealous—he loved straddling Mal. Top ten best friend activities.
Again, Malevola used the kitchenware to shield herself, then swung it up to knock the other demon to the side and flipped them, pinning her to the ground. Now Sonar was really jealous, and pretty turned on as well. What he wouldn't give right now, for Mal to pin him down like that and—
"Sonar!"
He jumped, wide eyes darting to Malevola, who tossed her head to indicate the countertop behind her.
"My sword!"
"Shit, alright." Sonar pulled himself up on shaky legs and stumbled the few steps to the counter. He grabbed the handle and pulled, but it was lodged pretty well. He tried again, but his arms felt like wet noodles.
"Now, Vic!" Something about her tone sent adrenaline shooting through him, heart thumping. Sonar braced his leg on the counter and wrenched at the sword with his entire body. He whooped as it finally came free, hefting it up above his head with the blade angled down.
"Heads up, Mal!"
Malevola waited until the last second to release the succubus and roll away, and by then it was too late. Sonar drove the sword through the other demon's gut, pinning her once more, then stepped back to lean on the shattered counter for support. As he watched, Malevola stood and stabbed the creature three more times, even after it had stopped moving, until it was nothing but a smoking corpse. It should have been a morbid sight, but Sonar was only really looking at Mal—the way her biceps rippled as she thrust the blade down, the smear of black blood that landed on her cheekbone, the fire in her glowing eyes. All of it was so, so—
"You alright, babes?" She was looking at him, now, expression softening as she drew closer.
"Yeah," Sonar said breathlessly. "You?
"Eh, she scraped me up a bit, but it'll buff. At least I got her."
"Yeah, you did. That was hot as fuck."
Malevola's eyes narrowed. She reached out to take Sonar by the jaw, tilting his head up so she could look him over, which only made him embarrassingly aware of their height difference. Sonar's legs went noodly, burning like he'd just run a marathon, and he nearly fell over when she abruptly released him.
"Shit," she said. "She got you, didn't she?"
"Define 'got.'"
"She kissed you."
"Ohh. Yeah, she did."
"Okay… okay." Mal ran her hands through her hair in a rare display of stress. "This isn't good. We gotta get you home, like, yesterday. Let me call Robert."
"Why?" Sonar asked, though he had to admit home sounded pretty good right now. Even though the fight was over, he still couldn't seem to get his breath back, and he was starting to feel warm, almost feverish.
Malevola didn't answer; she'd already opened a private comm line with Robert. She seemed to be summarizing the mission, which was boring, so Sonar let his thoughts drift a bit, only half-listening.
Robert…
Now that was a good-looking man. Sonar didn't really make a habit of hitting on the men at the office, mainly because Flambae had that territory covered, and he didn't feel like having to explain that his freak flag flew both ways. Most people assumed he was straight based on vibes, and he let them. He'd learned a long time ago that sometimes it was easier to play into people's expectations.
But Robert…
Sonar hadn't thought much of him, at first, until he'd fired him. Then, he'd thought about Robert and revenge pretty much every second of every day for the next week or so. Then, after returning to the team, Robert's name had become associated with regret, and he'd wallowed in those thoughts 24/7 too.
Now, though, when Sonar thought of Robert, he thought of redemption.
And also sex. Because the guy was hot, okay! Physically, he was a little unassuming, but his voice was shiver-inducing and his stupid sincerity had touched Sonar's heart (gross), and those two things made him look ten times better to Sonar's fucked up brain, and he couldn't help it.
So, he had a little crush. So, what?
No one knew but Mal, and he'd sworn her to secrecy, and given her a blowjob in exchange for her silence. So nothing would ever come of it.
And now he'd gotten so distracted he wasn't listening at all. Shit. What was happening, again?
"…but she managed to put a curse on Sonar," Malevola was saying. "…yes, Robert, a sex curse. That's kind of the whole deal, with succubi. We need to get home before it fully settles, because once it does, he's going to be even more of an HR violation than he already is."
Sex curse. Solar turned the phrase over in his sluggish mind, and considered how damp his boxers felt. Yeah, that made sense.
"What do you mean, we can't? I don't give a shit about procedure, mate. The more people he sees, the worse it's going to get. If we take him to medical, he'll be blowing the nurse before—oh, my fucking—fine! In and out. As soon as they're sure he's not dying, we're going home. Sonar!"
"Yeah?"
"Did you catch that? We gotta go to medical before we go home." Malevola pulled her sword from the pile of ash that had once been the succubus. "Alright?"
"Fine," Sonar huffed, coming to stand beside her as she slashed a portal open. He swayed slightly on his feet, and she placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. It made the breathless feeling subside a bit, but the simmering heat in his belly only grew.
"In and out," Malevola reassured. "Let's go."
"What did I tell you? See? He's fine, just horny."
Malevola leaned back in the infirmary chair as the nurse finished healing the last of her cuts. He'd already treated Sonar's bruised face, which had been decidedly awkward, and confirmed that his healing powers were useless against the curse itself, which hadn't seemed to surprise Malevola. She gave him a quiet thanks as he slipped out, then returned her focus to Robert, who was standing in the middle of the room.
"I know. I'm sorry. We just wanted to be sure." His eyes darted to Sonar, who was hiding his face in Malevola's neck, peering blearily back through strands of dark hair.
"Can we go, now?" Sonar mumbled, pressing his snout harder against Malevola's skin in a desperate attempt to mask the smell of Robert.
"Yes," Malevola decided. Her tone said the rest: whether we're allowed to or not.
"Wait." Robert looked nervous. "Can I talk to you outside? It'll take two minutes, tops."
Malevola stood, ran a gentle hand through Sonar's fur, then stalked out of the room without a word. Robert hurried to follow, and then Sonar was alone.
Typically, the door wouldn't be nearly enough to keep him from eavesdropping, but now, all he could hear was quiet murmuring. The words were drowned out by the sound of his heartbeat, loud and rapid. He could feel each pulse at the base of his skull and sides of his neck, and yet he still couldn't seem to suck in enough air to stop feeling faint. His chest ached from the strain, and with no one present to judge him for it, he opened his mouth to pant, desperate to satiate his body's need for oxygen and cool down. Even his eyes were starting to feel hot. Every bit of fur-covered skin was sweltering. His hands and feet and ears burned.
And beneath it all, the pulsing ache between his thighs grew more and more intense. Without the mask of Malevola, he was picking up hints of Robert's scent, and it was only making things worse. Whining, Sonar rubbed his thighs together, but it did little to relieve the feeling. Desperate, he reached up to unbutton his blazer and tossed it over Malevola's empty chair.
Too many layers—skin, fur, clothes, more clothes. Tight, too tight. Sonar yanked his tie off next, then started working on his shirt buttons.
The door swung open, and Sonar jumped. He'd forgotten where he was, for a moment. Robert looked concerned, but Malevola was calm as she stepped forward and embraced him, guiding his nose to her neck. Her scent hit him again, and the wave of desire he felt nearly bowled him over.
"Mal," he gasped against her skin, past the point of shame. "I need you in me. Now."
"Jesus," said Robert.
Makevola shifted slightly, and the sound of a portal opening was such a relief, Sonar could have cried.
"Bye, Robert," said Malevola. Then, without waiting for an answer, she dragged Sonar through the portal and into their living room.
"Oh, thank fuck," Sonar sobbed, practically throwing himself into her open arms to lick and mouth at her neck. Her sword thunked against the ground as she let it fall, and then her hands were on his waist, steadying. He tugged her toward the couch, but she shook her head.
"Bed," she said, pointing down the hall in the direction of his room.
Sonar didn't need to be told twice. He made it to the door in record time, kicking his pants off on the way. Malevola followed him in, tossing his slacks in the general direction of the hamper.
Sonar's room was mostly bed—two king-sized mattresses pushed together and layered with blankets, pillows, and a few bat-themed plushies he'd been gifted. He'd given up on bedframes after the second time they'd collapsed, but Mal had done her best to help him make up for it, hanging a canopy and string lights to give the space a more private feel and provide softer lighting options for his sensitive eyes. What little room he had left was taken up by a low-sitting coffee table, which functioned as a night stand, and his desk, which housed his computer setup.
Sonar knelt down to bundle up the various bed-things on one mattress and toss them to the other, leaving just two pillows and the fitted sheet. He doubted either one of them was going to feel like doing laundry, after this. Malevola joined him on the bare mattress, crawling closer to pull him in for a kiss that quickly grew heated. Sonar gasped into her mouth, guiding her hands to his shirt in an obvious request, and she pulled back to give him a considering look.
"You sure? You've lost a lot of shirts already."
"They're just white button-ups." Sonar shrugged, then lowered his voice to a purr. "Do it."
Mal sighed, but he knew he had her. Sure enough, her demeanor shifted to something far more heated, and she tore his shirt open, sending buttons flying with barely any effort. She was just so strong.
"Hell yes," Sonar growled as she began to mouth at his chest, starting about half-way down where his fur thinned to regular human chest hair. He wrapped his arms around her back, then gripped the straps of her jumpsuit tightly, plotting.
Malevola fisted her hand in the fur at the back of his neck and tugged him away, scruffing him. "Absolutely not. I don't have nearly as many of these."
Sonar went limp in her grasp. "Mmuh," he said, eloquently.
Malevola rolled her eyes and dropped him on the bed. "Get ready," she ordered, squeezing his ass through his boxers for good measure.
Sonar's heart leapt, excitement zipping down his spine like lightning. He shrugged out of his ruined shirt, then rolled onto his front, chest to the bed and hips raised invitingly. His sensitive hearing caught the hitch of Malevola's breath as she finished stripping and looked him over, and his ears warmed a bit from the attention.
She slid his boxers down and banished them to wherever she'd put her jumpsuit. Sonar flicked his tail up, essentially presenting himself, and couldn't help the way it wagged at her appreciative hum.
"Ready?" she checked.
Sonar wiggled his ass. "Yes, yesyesyes, c'mon."
She pressed the head of her cock against his entrance, and he was so wet that the first half sank in with almost no resistance. Malevola pulled out slightly, then pushed back in, a little bit deeper, and that was it, Sonar couldn't fucking take it anymore. He drove himself back in one swift motion, and both of them cried out when their hips met.
"Vic," she gasped, curling over him, breasts pressed deliciously against his back.
"Hnnh," Sonar replied, basking in the sheer and utter relief of being filled.
Malevola raised herself again and placed a steadying hand on his hip. "You want it rough?"
"Yes, give it to me.
She pulled back, and he couldn't help but clench down at the loss, unwilling to let her go. Then, she grabbed him by the scruff again, pinning him to the bed, and every muscle went slack. He could do nothing but take it as she slammed her hips forward and started a harsh rhythm, punching high, breathy cries from him with each thrust. Sonar scrabbled for a pillow and bit down on it to spare their neighbors the indignity.
His climax was approaching embarrassingly quickly, but after essentially being edged for an hour after being hit with an aphrodisiac, Sonar couldn't find it in himself to care.
"Mal!" he cried, tilting his head to the side in what he hoped was an obvious invitation.
Malevola, like the beautiful, incredible, phenomenal best friend that she was, understood. She bent over him and sunk her teeth into his shoulder, where the fur was thinnest, holding him in place in a way that made his instincts sing. Every muscle in his pelvis squeezed in anticipation, pulling taughter and taughter, until the tension in his lower abdomen snapped.
Sonar came with a high-pitched chitter, gushing around Malevola as she fucked him through it, wave after wave of ecstacy until he finally went limp with a broken moan. The only thing holding his hips up was Malevola's grip, which turned bruising as her own peak approached. Despite his own release, and the pleasant aftershocks that were still wracking him, Sonar could still feel a deep, unsated need, and he knew just how to fulfill it.
"Want your knot, Mal," he begged. "Give it to me, inside, mmh, come on."
"Fuck," Malevola groaned, directly into his ear, and sure enough, the base of her cock was swelling. "You sure?"
"So sure," Sonar moaned. "I want it. Need it, need you. Come inside."
With a rumbling growl, Malevola pressed harder against him, until she managed to stuff the whole thing inside, plugging him up as she filled him. The sensation was so intense he nearly came again, and then she reached around to stroke his clit with her thumb and forefinger, and he did. He clamped down around her like a vice, sobbing as he shook apart beneath her, until they both collapsed against the sheets, spent.
Malevola spooned up behind him, throwing an arm over his waist as they breathed together. The tightness in Sonar's chest loosened, and he was finally able to catch his breath, sighing in relief. The fuzzy, light-headed feeling faded, until he felt almost normal, and the day's events hit him like a truck.
"Damn, she got me good, didn't she?"
Malevola nodded against his back. "Unfortunately."
"This is like a heat, but worse. Are we gonna have to take off work?"
"About that…" Malevola stroked a hand through the fur on his hips, down his fuzzy thigh until the fur thinned, and back up. "I can help you through this like a heat, but it's not exactly the same. There's a few things that might help break the curse faster, if you're down to try."
"I'll try anything once," Sonar quipped. "What's the cure, doc?"
"Multiple partners, for one. The more, the better."
"Hmm," Sonar considered. He'd cleared most of his old contacts when they stopped partying. "I might still have Jenny's number? Or Dan, but he's probably still pissed about the Batcoin thing." Maybe that was a good thing, though. Sonar didn't mind an angry fuck every once in a while, though he typically preferred when it was all part of the fun.
"Actually," said Malevola, voice thick with barely-restrained anticipation. "Robert offered to help."
Sonar was so stunned that he managed an entire five seconds of uninterrupted silence before he yelled.
"What?!" He made to sit up, and they both grimaced when it pulled painfully at where they were still connected. "Holy shit, for real?!"
Mal tugged him back against her, squeezing him to convey her own excitement at the prospect. "Yeah. He kinda knew you were crushing."
"Dammit, Mal, did you tell?"
She laughed. "Nah. He said he's already been with a couple of the others, and he finally realized all our teasing is actually flirting. Plus, you kept trying to feed him bits of your lunch, like you were scavenging for him or something. Gave yourself away with that one, mate."
"Fuck!" said Sonar.
"We just did that," said Mal, and he scoffed, shoving her with his elbow. This started a round of play-fighting that ended abruptly when her knot made itself known again. Sighing, Mal pulled him back into place.
"Seriously, though," she said. "I told him we'd talk it over when you were more lucid and let him know. What do you think? Do you—"
"Yes."
"Sonar, you didn't even let me—"
"Yeeeees. Are you fucking kidding? Yes, I want Robert to come over here and blow my back out. Why is this even a question?"
"Because of consent, Vic. And maybe he wants you to blow his back out. Did you think of that?"
"Oh, I can do that," Sonar said darkly. "I consent. I consent so hard. Where's my phone?"
"In your pants, probably."
"Where's my pants?"
"The hamper. Just use mine." Malevola pulled up Robert's contact and handed him her phone. Sonar's fingers hovered over the keyboard.
"What should I say?"
Malevola snorted. "Yes?"
"No, Mal, that's too desperate. We're playing it cool."
Eventually, he settled on: Offer accepted. Pleasure doing business with you. Literally. ;)) Just lmk when you want mal to portal you over"
…
This is sonar btw
Give me 30, Robert replied, and Sonar could feel his tail wagging against Mal's belly as he read it. Then, he recalled that he was covered in cum, fur messy and sweaty.
"We need to take a shower," he decided. "I need to shave my ass."
"Your ass?" said Malevola. "All of it?"
Sonar snorted. "God, no. Just some landscaping stuff. Wanna make a good first impression. Help me up, we gotta go."
She pulled him to his feet, watching sympathetically when he winced and limped toward the bathroom. "Sorry about that," she said.
Sonar waved her off. "I literally asked for it, don't sweat it."
It wasn't until he was in the shower, soap in one hand and seldom-used razor in the other, that it hit him. "Oh, my God. Mal!"
"What, Sonar?" She poked her head through the shower curtain, and he felt a bit bad for yelling when he saw the concern on her face, but it was important.
"I just got it," he said. "The guy, he said… The Great Cumming. Like, cum." He mimed a jerking-off motion for good measure, and Mal facepalmed. Actually facepalmed.
"Shut up and move over," she said. "We've got like ten minutes before Robert gets here."
"Ten minutes? Shit, I haven't even started on my ass!"