#ngl I’ve already decided Not-Meg and Hades have had a thing for a while and it’s completely gone over the imps’ heads

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Disney!Hades x OFC/F!Reader Drabble

Rated T for tears because the process for this was having an imagine in my head, jotting it down on a word doc, and then crying for days as I tried to make it readable.

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At first, neither Pain nor Panic had any idea what they were looking at.

They’d scampered into the throne room, for once all-too-eager to see the aftermath of Hades' anger in the face of a failed plan. It was rare, afterall, that a grand scheme failed and it wasn’t due to the imps’ incompetence, but because of some other poor soul’s honest mistakes.

In this case, it was their newest recruit, and first indentured mortal since Meg to be tied down to the underworld pre-daisy pushing. Pain and Panic had initially referred to this particular human as ‘Not-Meg’, among other colorful titles, and it seemed like that had been an involuntarily smart decision. She wasn’t long for the waking or under-world after running - er, swimming afoul of charybdis and needing to be saved.

They’d been banished from the throne room while their boss dealt with the mortal woman, but after a good 15 minute countdown, Pain and Panic had agreed that she had to be but a pile of ashes by now - or charred down to the bone in several places at the very least.

But… this… well…

What they’d just walked into wasn’t an outcome either of the duo would’ve come up with if they had a millennium to guess.

Not-Meg was straddling the throne, lower half angled toward the back with her bare legs haphazardly strewn over the obsidian armrests. However, her back was arched dramatically until she was making an almost perfect arc, until her flushed face was visible upside down. Her soft features were taut, stress cinching at her brow and lips quivering as she whimpered. Very little left to the imagination as the mortal’s signature pale dress was pulled down and bunched around her hips.

And taking its place in clinging to her every curve was none other than the Lord of the Dead himself.

Hades was anchoring the little mortal woman with one arm wrapped around her waist. His other was busy, free hand kneading at the soft mound of her breast as he indulgently lavished the other in his mouth.

Although slow to the uptake (as always), Panic felt the same onslaught of emotions as Pain. A combined malaise of confusion, shock, disgust, and uncomfortable warmth dawned upon them both. It was so strong that one of them must’ve squealed or shrieked, for in an instant Replacement-Meg’s eyes shot wide open.

She gasped at the upside down image of two gaping cretins, body instinctively curling inward as she grabbed for Hades. Predictably, the god’s head snapped up, pupils shrinking at an unnerving rate within blazing eyes.

“What.

       Do you two.

                Think.

You’re doing?!”

As he began to huff and puff - fairly standard - there was visible restraint when it came to Hades actually exploding. He pulled the mortal to his chest until she was lost in the charcoal fabric of his robes as if to shield her. As if her modesty - no, her safety from his outburst was a high priority.

In a daze, Panic raised his hand. “S-sir? What -“

before he was blasted in the face with searing flames.

“GET OUT!!!!”

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Running was typically the best (and only) way to escape Hades wrath - though with these deep injuries, the imps couldn’t get far before having to catch their breath.

Panic shivered, still feeling the sting of fire at his back and singing his tail while Pain was doubled-over, huffing and puffing at his side. Both wore dual expressions of distress as their tiny brains attempted to wrap around what had just transpired.

“Maybe we should actually try to learn her name now?” Pain suggested after a beat of silence, normal agonized moaning and screams of the dead notwithstanding.