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jangofctts · 2 years

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Hot Venom (Adrian Chase/Vigilante x fem!reader) PART TWO

Rated: Mature, Explicit 18+

Word Count: 8.2k oh my god I am sorry

Warnings: smut, explicit language, mentions of blood/injury, stitches, mentions of violence, vaginal fingering, oral (female & male receiving), overstimulations, multiple orgasms, unprotected vaginal sex (dont be a dick, wrap that stick), brief titty fuckin (lmk if I missed anything please!!)

You hate Vigilante.

At least—that’s what you tell yourself and everyone else.

It’s easy enough. You’re not a normally personable person anyhow and so the biting responses and quips blend with the act.

It’s unfortunate how well you work with him—so much so that it’s nearly impossible to shake him from your side. Fuck—even Chris commented on it.

Avoid, avoid, avoid. It’s all you can do.

Sadly, there comes a time, following the rather rough mission, that you are abandoned before all your problems and mixed anxieties. A cruel punishment the universe has bestowed upon you—

“Want a ride home?”

You swallow and work your jaw, looking over your shoulder in search for Harcourt or Adebayo—they usually let you mooch rides.

No one remains in the dark lot. It’s empty save for yourself and Vigilante.

Damn it. “I think I’ll walk.”

Vigilante scoffs, propping his hands onto his hips. “You run marathons or something? I know you’re all hardcore and shit, but I don’t think you can teleport. We’re miles out of town—that’s fuckin’ insane, dude.”

You clench your fist. What is it? Ten miles from the gas station on the edge of Evergreen? That’s a little far—even for you.

“C’mon, get in the Vigilante-mobile,” he presses, gesturing to the grey Sebring, illuminated by the lone streetlamp.

“Vigilante-mobile?”

“Yeah! isn’t it awesome?” He says. You can hear the proud smile through his mask. “I even picked up a new air freshener—Mango Mai Tai. Smells just like the beach.”

A long silence ensues. You eye him wearily. He gestures to his car again.

“I’m taking the bus.”

Vigilante deflates a bit as you turn on your heel to fucking who knows where. There’s probably not even a bus that runs after midnight—

His hand clamps around your shoulder—it’s not meant to be violent—it’s not his fault you got stabbed in the shoulder. An oversight on your part—that fucking lima bean gremlin bastard somehow turned your own knife on you. Embarrassing. You bite your tongue to muffle your cry, buckling your arm into yourself to nurse the razor sharp pain that races down your arm like a hot poker through flesh. It reduces to a blistering throb after a few agonizing moments—your breath seizing in your lungs.

“Woah, you good?” Vigilante questions, reaching for your arm again to inspect the damage. You flinch and shoo him away. “Ah, shit. You’re bleeding all over your suit! Y’know, this is why you don’t wear white—”

“Shut up, Viggy,” you hiss through clenched teeth. Fine. Fuck it. You’ll let him give you a lift. You stomp towards the Sebring. “Unlock the door.”

“Alright! Vigilante-mobile for the win!” He hoots, fist pumping the air. He jogs after you, the metal keyring clinking as he twirls it around his index finger. There’s a beaded alligator attached to the ring. What’s he named it again? Ah, right, Jeffrey Dahmer. That’s fucked up. “I call Baby Driver.”

He skips to the driver’s side and pries open his door. Your fingers find the underside of the handle and jiggle it a few times. You sigh. It’s locked.

“Hang on,” Vigilante says, jabbing the automatic locks on the inside of the door. It clicks open and then shut in the same second, long before you can open the door.

You glare at Vigilante over the roof of his car. The locks click—your fingers yank on the handle. God fucking damnit.

“Gotta be quicker than that,” Vigilante laughs. You used to do this with your brother eons ago—shit gets old real quick. Vigilante does it a third time. He beats your reaction time yet again. “Oop—too slow.”

“I’m going to rip this door off your fucking car,” you snarl. “Let me in. Now.”

“Yeesh—ok, ok,” he yields, holding up his hands in defeat. “You’re no fun.”

The car rocks as you both settle into your seats. He puts his key into the ignition and the car rumbles to life—an earsplitting wave of mariachi music blasts through the speakers—full volume. Vigilante jolts and rushes to twist the dial to a more considerate volume for your now ringing ears. He hurriedly flicks through the local stations until he finds one featuring grainy old rock songs. “Whoops.”

“Just drive—please?” You beg, dipping your fingers beneath your mask to rub at your temples. A migraine threatens to push at the front of your skull—or it’s a concussion—probably the more likely cause for your headache.

“Sure thing.”

A tension hangs in the air as the car rolls down the empty highway, the concrete wet with midnight rains and illuminated by the occasional light or odd porch light attached to darkened houses. You bite your tongue to keep the winces at bay each time the tires roll over a dip. Vigilante glances at you and then back to the road.

“You don’t talk very much do you?” Your lack of response gives him enough of an answer. “Well, that’s ok, I don’t mind talking.”

“I gathered that,” you mutter under your breath. He doesn’t hear you.

Vigilante drums on the steering wheel, and reaches over to fiddle with the nobs of the radio again. “What kinda music do you like? You peg me as an R&B type of chick or like, punk rock. Hozier, maybe?”

You shrug.

Vigilante leans over even further, seatbelt pulling taught against his chest, and pops open the glove compartment. A handgun lies atop a mess of unorganized CDs—he pushes it to the side and rummages through a few of the plastic cases. The gun is somehow less surprising than him owning a copy of Baby One More Time. He picks three at random and lays them over his thigh. He nods his head in approval. “I got AC/DC, Green Day—ohoho, nice! Van Halen!”

He flaunts the case between his index and middle finger. He then dumps the CDs into your lap. “Here—m’lady’s choice.”

“Thanks…”

The cheap plastic clinks together as you shuffle through them. Can’t a girl just sit in silence while they slowly bleed out to death in some sociopath’s Chrysler Sebring? The answer is no. Vigilante does not thrive in quiet situations. You’ve learned that the hard way.

The static, jaunty beat of Bad Moon Rising swells through speakers. You set the CDs onto the dashboard. “I like this song,” you say, cranking up the dial in hopes it’ll dispel anymore of Vigilante’s attempts of engagement.

Over the roar of the music, he turns his head and gives you a thumbs up. He pats his chest and leans over to your side of the car. “I love this song! I knew you had good taste in tunes!”

He taps his foot and starts to drum his fingers onto the steering wheel, his out of tune singing rising above the lyrics. “I know you’re a stick in the mud, Ghostie—but come on! Lighten up!”

You must be loosing a shit ton of blood, that and the blow to your ego, convinces you to mumble along. It’s enough to appease him—thank fuck.

Settling against the window, you watch the familiar scenery of Evergreen roll into view. Vigilante slows for a stop sign. “Wait, where am I taking you? I can’t just leave you on a park bench.”

“That’s fine,” you mutter. Your place is only about a mile away from here. A step a head of you, Vigilante locks the doors to keep you from ditching the car—you swear.

“Um, no, it’s not?” He asserts as if the idea is the craziest thing he’s ever heard. “There’s like, murderous criminals out there—what if they take your social security number? I should know! I’ve apprehended like ten of them.”

Your face twists in confusion under your mask. “Why the fuck would a murderer want my social security number, Viggy?”

He shrugs, red visor glinting as it catches a stray beam of light. “Like I said, crazy people, Ghost.”

You roll your tongue over the back of your teeth. Your mouth tastes like blood. God, this man is strange. “Do you…cary your social security card?”

He laughs for a little too long to be convincing. “What are you, a cop?” He cruises past the stop sign and glances at you. He clears his throat. “No…”

“Lord Jesus—“

“What? It’s easy access!” Vigilante cries. “People who memorize that shit are psychopaths.”

“Easy access for what?” You retort. “Who’s asking you for that? Your fucking server at Burger King?”

He snorts and holds up his hand as if scorned. “I dunno—tax returns? Geez, Ghostie, let a man breathe, okay?” He takes a long breath. “And Burger King? Dude, that place is trash—I am a man of taste.”

“Tch’yeah, bad taste.”

Vigilante shakes a gloved finger at you. “Because you’re a close, good, friend—and because you’re absolutely smokin’—I will let that slide.”

You roll your eyes and sink deeper into your seat. This is ridiculous. Another silence ensues, lasting until you are well into the middle of town.

“Seriously, where am I going?” Vigilante asks again. The array of neon lights blinking in dark shop windows roll over him, casting his blue suit in a multitude of color.

You worry your teeth over your swollen bottom lip and weigh the consequences. On one hand Vigilante will know where you live, the other—well—it’s not like you’ll have a place to live anymore if the Butterflies take over the whole world. Worst case, you’ll just shoot the bastard if he tries anything funny. You cave.

“Take a right up here.”

You feed Vigilante the directions until the familiar outlay of your neighborhood comes into view. He rolls to a stop in front of your house. In the driveway sits your car and a black, unmarked government vehicle. “Shit—I forgot my roommate is home.”

“So? Just sneak through the window,” Vigilante supplies. “I do it all the time.”

“No, dude,” you groan. “Her girlfriend is a detective—they’d come knocking if they heard me breaking in. Also I live on the second floor.”

You throw your head back against the headrest. Fucking hell. You’re in no condition to climb—your head is swimming, your shoulder hurts, you’re bleeding everywhere and your ears won’t stop ringing.

“I can boost you—“

“No—they can’t see you—us like this. I have a job man—we’ll get arrested.”

Sagging against the seat, you curl into yourself and lean against the window. You can’t feel the cool glass through your mask, but it offers comfort nonetheless. Your pulse pounds in your ears. Vigilante considers you for a moment.

“Ghost—you’re like, bleeding all over my seat,” Vigilante states. You frown, a spark of irritation flaring within your chest. Way to state the obvious. “Not that’s it’s not hot or anything—god you’re sexiest girl I know—but the Vigilante-mobile ain’t made for blood stains. Trust me.”

You offer a weak apology. You’re fading fast—

Vigilante makes a sound low in his throat, yanks the parking break down and presses on the gas. “That’s it—I’m just gonna take you to to Casa de Vigilante.”

“What? No—“

“Don’t sweat it! I promise there’s no dishes in the sink or anything,” Vigilante assures. He bumps your shoulder and suddenly gasps. “You can meet Peacemaker!”

You pathetically watch as your house disappears. Being kidnapped was not on your list of things to do today. “Viggy, I already know who Peacemaker is.”

“No not that Peacemaker, silly goose,” Adrian giggles. “My goldfish! His name is Peacemaker, duh.”

Ok…

Vigilante’s place is a ten minute drive from yours, closer to the other side of town. You should pay more attention to the street names but fuck—you’re hovering that dangerous tightrope above an endless drop, careening forward into the abyss of unconsciousness. The car is warm, Vigilante is humming along to the radio, and your bleeding wounds have blurred into a dull, faraway thought. His hazy announcement of your arrival doesn’t even reach your ears. You’re fine sleeping here—

Your door is opened, you don’t stop yourself from tipping into Vigilante’s unsuspecting hands. He curses and gently pushes you back against the seat. Your head lolls to the side.

“Yikes…you don’t look so good.“

“Just…just give me a second,” your slurred words stick to your tongue like molasses. You will your body to move—get up—but all you can do is swing one pathetic leg out of the car.

Vigilante clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “I gotcha.”

He reaches in and slides a hand under your arm and across your back while the other hooks under the backs of your knees. “Watch your head, Ghost.” Vigilante lifts you too fast—your forehead cracks against the top of the frame. Lucky you have a mask on—still sorta hurt though. “Oops, sorry.”

Vigilante kicks the door closed with his foot and carries you to his doorstep. This time, as he stumbles in, he minds your head. He flips on the light switch with his elbow—his place is much cleaner than you expected. It’s nice even.

Vigilante sets you down onto the kitchen counter and just like he’s promised, there’s no dirty dishes in the sink. He moves about the place, throwing open cabinets until he finds what he’s looking for. Vigilante pulls out a med bag and dumps it on your left beside the sink. “Alright—Doctor Vigilante will patch you up. Suit off.”

You grunt. “Buy me a drink first, hotshot.”

“Well, I try,” Vigilante sniffs. “But you never want me to.”

He patiently waits for you to acquiesce. Besides the fact that it feels like you limbs are made of lead, there’s one tiny, flaw about your suit…

“C’mon, Ghost,” Vigilante encourages, “I’m not going to let my second best friend forever bleed out on my kitchen counter.”

“I can’t.”

Vigilante scoffs and reaches his hand out to mess with the collar of your suit, you shoo him away. “Yes you can.”

“No,” you mutter. “I can’t—I have to take off my mask to take off my suit.”

“Oh.”

Blood seeps down the mask—why hadn’t you noticed it before? The hot liquid trickles down the sides of your face and mouth, leaking through the white fabric covering your throat and collarbones. You can feel his eyes on you, watching the spread of deep crimson stain and overtake. He lets the silence settle and you know what he’s going to say. You see it in the way his padded shoulders raise to take a breath and the crackling curiosity that practically sparks off of him. Nonetheless, it’s still like getting shot pointblank in the chest the second he asks.

“Let me see your face.”

Such a simple question shouldn’t scare you. Pure and simple fear that better belongs on a feral dog backed into a corner with only its sharp, needlepoint teeth to protect itself. Getting into this line of work should have scared you—throwing your life down at the feet of an uncaring Amanda Waller with the promise of death and gut wrenching adrenaline should have terrified you. Someone—a friend—asking to look upon your face should not.

“I’m open to trade.”

You’re clever enough to realize that this is his way of assuring you can rely on him—that trust is a two way street. He knows the importance of a secret identity better than anyone else—how these sorts of things aren’t meant to be known—but both of you are making exceptions tonight, even if it’s dangerous. Playing with matchsticks around a barrel of gasoline, one slip of a finger and you’ll both go up into volatile flames that will rattle the very seams of the earth. Vigilante is showing you how willing he is to offer a piece of himself at your feet—so long as you do the same.

You sigh and close your eyes. “O-ok…yeah—yeah.”

Your fingertips find the edges of your mask. You take another inhale—the last breath before plunging into an ice cold sea—and maybe…maybe it’s not as scary as you once thought.

You dip your chin and pull it off your head, wincing as it pulls a few of your hairs. It clatters against the granite counter.

“Oh my god. Holy shit!” Vigilante nearly shouts. Your chest fills with cold dread. “Dude, I know you! You’re the barista across the street from Fennel Fields—I cant believe the hot barista is in my apartment. Chris is gonna flip—“

Before your curiosity as to who this guy actually is runs rampant, Vigilante grabs the back of his mask and pulls. Soft black hair, dimples, pointed nose, clean shaven—

“Oh, fuck."

Adrian Chase takes his glasses out of his back pocket and slides them up his nose. He smiles. “You remember me?”

“Yeah, I fucking remember you,” you sneer, brows furrowing. “You order ungodly amounts of caramel macchiatos—that’s not healthy man. Everyone thinks you’re a crack head, Adrian.”

Adrian straightens his spine, a goofy grin tugging at his lips. “You know my name?”

You scowl, and reach for the med bag. It’s like being drunk as your fingers fumble with the stubborn zipper. Wow, this night really took a turn for the worse.

“I know your name too," he says proudly. He then states it, first, middle and last, with as much reverence as he can muster. You don’t want to know the lengths he took to find your full name.

“Why do you know that?” You sigh, finally getting the zipper to yield. You dig through the bag, fruitful in your search for gauze.

“Uh, duh—you’re like a solid eleven,” Adrian laughs, pale green eyes crinkling around the edges. “No offense but the goth girl with blue hair? Freakayyyy—and that super buff viking ass dude? Terrifying. Plus you know how to make my drink right—everyone else’s tastes like dog water.”

“Bro, it’s just coffee,” you grumble. You’ll never admit it—but you always make sure to add extra caramel. It’s against store policy—but you make exceptions.

“I’ve been trying to get your number for ages.”

You throw up your hand and sigh. “Why didn’t you just ask me? Fuck—it doesn’t matter. You have my number now.”

Harcourt made sure of that.

Adrian fishes out the bottle of alcohol and hands it to you. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do for all these months? I wrote out my number for you all the time on those receipts!”

“Dude, those go in the shredder. I don’t even see them.”

“Oh,” Adrian pauses and rubs his thumb over his chin. He has a nick under the curve of his jaw. “You didn’t see the napkins either?”

“That was your number?” You ask sharply. “I thought those were hieroglyphs or something.”

Adrian pouts, fiddling with the bottle cap to the alcohol. He watches as you wince, face twisting as you dab at the gash on your hairline—it’ll need stitches. You don’t have to look at yourself in a mirror to know you look like you’ve been dragged through hell.

“Cobra Kai really did a number on you,” Adrian states, reaching for another gauze pad. He tears it open with his teeth and turns on the faucet to dampen it with water. He then leans towards you, delicately dabbing at your split lip. It stings.

Completely focused on cleaning the trail of blood over your chin and the new cleft in your lip, you study him. Your heart lurches in your chest—you’ve always found him attractive. A little creepy? Yeah. He’s sweet though—nicer than anyone you’ve had the pleasure of knowing. Minus the whole sociopath thing.

Y’know…” Adrian’s eyes meet yours. “You don’t have to spend your entire paycheck on buying shitty coffee just to hang out with me.”

He works his jaw, the muscles jumping under the skin. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his thumb. “Economos said you didn’t like me.”

You roll your eyes and pick up another square of gauze. “Economos is a fuckin’ cockwaffle. He probably just told you that to piss you off.”

Adrian licks his lips and fishes out a suture kit. After taking off his gloves, he takes out a needle, a line of thread and forceps. He asks you to lean forward, you do so. He steadies your forehead with his pinkies as his other fingers work to suture your wound. His hands are a little clammy. “You still always have a stick up your butt—you’re only nice to Adebayo and Harcourt.”

You hiss at the tiny pricks and tugging of your skin being sewn shut. “I just…I like you more than I should.”

Adrian perks up, processes your words, then frowns. His brows furrow together as he steps back to look at you. “Wait hold up—that makes no sense. You’re mean to me so people will think you hate me?” He snorts and returns to his task. “And everyone thinks I’m the crazy one.”

Adrian finishes up the last stitch. He pinches your cheek and jostles your face. “Voila—all done.”

You mumble your thanks.

“Suit off—don’t think I forgot about your arm, Ghost.”

You puff up your cheeks and release a long stream of air. Your muscles protest as you shift your arms, tugging at the tight fabric. Adrian whistles in appreciation as you shimmy the suit down to your waist. The only thing you wear is a black sports bra—not exactly thrilling, but you can see the excitement thrum in Adrian’s eyes. Perv.

You pick up the needle and thread, set one closing up your own jagged flesh this time. Your hand shakes—

Adrian envelopes your hand in his and works the needle out of your fingers. “I’ll do it.”

He’s entirely focused on sewing the wound shut, leaving behind quick and neat sutures (however, after each one he does glance at your tits). You’ll barely have a scar once it heals. You wonder how many times he’s had to preform this on himself to get this kind of accuracy. For you there have been plenty of nights huddled against the bathtub, fading in and out in attempt to close your wounds. You don’t like needles—not when you’re behind the wheel.

You and Adrian drift into another silence. You’re sure what it is that compels you to offer a further explanation to Adrian. You don’t mean to be this way—cowardly and shying away from any type of feeling that doesn’t revolve around pain. There’s bruises on your conscious and you’re terrified to wonder if it’s an outside source, or your own wretched blade that snuck it’s way through your ribcage—ripped apart the soft tissue to release the acrid smoke that bellows from your lungs. Same goes for the darkness that pulls you by your hair at night and pushes your mouth into your pillow to teach you to appreciate breathing. You always think you’ve beat this darkness into submission—it always comes back—your still don’t appreciate breathing.

Vigilante—Adrian—reminds you of this.

“Listen,” you say, chewing the words that are rooted in place like a rusty nail bent into wood. “I need you to understand that I push you away because it’s the only thing I know how to do anymore.”

Adrian blinks in surprise. He opens his mouth to say something but you stop him, holding up your palm like a white flag. “You also need to understand that everyone in my life has left or died—so I never bother believing that people are going to stay.”

“My dad left my mom,” Adrian admits softly. “I get it.”

He finishes up your arm and sets the suture kit to the side. His eyes drop to your cleavage again. “Is it a bad time to say that I’m incredibly hard right now? You got a nice rack—“

You start laughing—deep belly laughs that hurt every aching muscle and stinging scrape. Adrian’s face is set in a look of confusion and before he can question as to why you’re laughing, you cup his face and wrestle him into a kiss.

It takes Adrian a moment for his brain to catch up—when it does, he’s surging forward. Your teeth knock against his, reopening the cut on your bottom lip. The taste of iron fills your mouths, staining your lips and tongue scarlet. The smell of gunpowder and isopropyl linger on his skin, along with he subtle whiff of Adrian’s Old Spice deodorant. His hand whispers up your jaw, he slants his head and deepens the kiss by pulling your jaw open. His warm tongue slides against yours, licking deep into your mouth with a low moan. You shudder, allowing him to explore and taste your mouth—it’s his to take. Adrian retreats, sucking and nipping at your parted lips.

You don’t go very far when you part for air—hovering close enough that your lips still skim his. Your eyes flutter open. Pink tints his cheeks, glasses askew—his chest heaves. “Holy fuck.”

You share that sentiment. With a smile you gingerly remove his glasses and set them to the side. You reach for his hands, guiding them to your chest. He gapes. “Go ahead.”

Adrian wastes no time in shoving your bra up and over your head, flinging it into the abyss of his apartment. He’s bouncing on his toes with unbridled joy as your breasts spill out. You shiver as the cool air skates over your nipples. He catches your lips in another sweeping kiss, sticky and obscene as his tongue twists with yours. You clench your legs together as a wave of arousal surges through your abdomen. It raises a notch above scalding as Adrian’s hands cup your breasts, fondling the soft skin. You jolt, breath stuttering as his fingers pinch your pebbled nipples—you always pegged Adrian as an ass man—guess not. He’s having the time of his life toying with your chest, vocal with his vulgar appreciation.

He presses a kiss to the side of your mouth, swipes his tongue down to your jaw and all the way down to the base of your throat. Adrian then peppers a trail of slick kisses up to your ear. “I wanna eat you out.”

His boldness startles you. Your breath catches in your throat as a delicious heat sparks in your lower belly and floods through your entire body. The image your brain conjures of Adrian between your legs—

“I’ve been dreaming about it a lot,” He admits, settling onto his knees over the cold linoleum tiles. His hands rest on he outsides of your thighs. “Like, I could blow my load right now just thinking about it—“

You don’t give him a second more of his endless rambles. You grab Adrian by the front of his shirt, drag him halfway up and meet him in the middle. Your mouth meets his in a kiss, all jagged edges and desperation. You groan into his mouth. “Please, Adrian.”

His warm breath fans over your lips and chin. “Yeah? Yeah, ok—fuck, ok.”

Adrian stands again, planting ravenous kisses and sharp nips along the line of your jaw and down the column of your throat. He leaves a patterned trail of teethmarks down your sternum and rushes to cup your breasts. You squirm as his calloused thumbs roll over your perked nipples, dipping his head to run his tongue over them. He pinches them roughly—you jolt and wrench his head back by the hair lining the back of his head. You’re met with a cheesy, unapologetic grin.

“Careful,” you chide. The moment you let go, his mouth latches right back to where it was. You arch into his tongue as it rolls agains your stinging nipples—an apology of sorts.

Adrian bows his head, panting against your chest, greedy with his touches as his hands hook into your rolled down suit. You wiggle to help him out, preening as he curses at the reveal of the bare skin of your calves and thighs. The fabric pools around your ankles, lust-drunk eyes devouring the sight of your naked profile, all his for the taking. He kneels again.

Goosebumps erupt over your skin as he runs his warm palms down the sides of your thighs. Adrian plants a kiss onto the swell of your tit and jumps to your navel, peppering sweet kisses onto your tummy. You huff and shy away as his fingers lightly skate over your sensitive sides.

Adrian snickers. “Ticklish?” He tests his cruel theory by dragging his blunt nail up your bruised ribcage.

You retaliate by shoving your fingers into the crook of his neck. Adrain crumples with a squeal and bats away your hand. “Ticklish?” You mock.

“Yield—I yield! I promise I won’t tickle you,” Adrian swears, settling back down between your legs. He nuzzles his face into your navel. “Your skin is so soft.”

Adrian’s hands hook under your knees and urges your legs to spread apart. Adrian licks his lips and smiles up at you. “You have a beautiful pussy, you know that?”

“Adrian—“

Your reprimand is cut short as he scrapes the blunt edges of his teeth along the insides of your thighs, threatening to catch soft flesh between the hard enamel. You’re a fool for letting your guard down—

Adrian clamps down, hard, into the meat of your thigh. Acting on instinct, your hand whips out and cracks against the side of his face. Adrian recoils, cupping the reddening mark painting his cheek. He looks up at you, lips parted in shock. “Don’t bite me that hard.”

And then you see it—unfurling like a vine of creeping, black ivy in those pale green eyes of his. His pink tongue flicks out over his bottom lip, pupils dialing into black disks. He drops his hand to readjust himself in his pants. Unbelievable. “You fucking sicko—you liked that, didn’t you?”

A coy smile curls over his lips. He trails his fingers around the bite mark, blood welling under the little grooves matching his set pearly white teeth. You flinch. He didn’t break skin, but it’ll become a gnarly bruise in the coming hour. “Do it again.”

“No,” you seethe. “Eat me out like you said you would.”

Adrian pouts but does what he’s told. Adrian mouths a warm kiss over his mark and smooths his calloused hands over your hips, settling for a moment to trace little circles with his thumbs onto the soft protrusion of bone there. Seemingly satisfied, he then shifts his hands closer to your aching cunt. His hot breath fans over your pussy as he uses his thumbs to glide through your slick folds, curious with his exploration. He makes a little hum of appreciation low in his throat when the pads of his thumbs part your soaking folds

“You’re mine,” he mutters to himself. “All mine.”

And then all working thoughts are abruptly severed by your own choppy gasp when a soft, dexterous heat eagerly envelopes your clit.

Fuck, it nearly hurts with how fucking good it feels. You haven’t had the time to take care of your own needs lately—exhaustion dispelled your attempts of self pleasure. Every time your fingers found your swollen clit, you’d accidentally drift to sleep, leaving you teased and far more frustrated. The noise you make sounds like something right out of a shitty porno—desperate, high pitched and airy. Adrian’s soft mouth is a furnace—a slick furnace between your folds, his tongue like velvet that flattens over your clit. Adrian hums low in his throat as he tastes you, readjusting his grip to push himself closer.

Fuck, this is heaven. This is what fucking Nirvana feels like, spread out on Adrian’s kitchen counter, your legs open and twitching around his head. Adrian moans into you—shit, you need more.

His fingers curl around your thighs, his tongue swirling gentle circles around your swollen, aching clit. Your hips jerk into Adrian’s heated mouth, the sore tendons and muscles tightening and refusing to relax—wound up and terrified that his skilled mouth will abandon you and leave you hanging—shattered into a heap of neediness that only he can solve. You should’ve known he’d be an expert at this—

Two lithe fingers press at the entrance of your cunt. You cry his name, lower back seizing, as Adrian sinks them into your clenching hole and curls them, only to retract them a moment later to shovel more of your wetness onto his tongue—as if simply using his mouth wasn’t enough for him. Like he needs to savor every drop of your arousal like you’re his only hope of salvation. You whine and arch off the counter, hands burying themselves into his soft curls as Adrian strokes and crooks his fingertips, plucking little gasps and moans from you easier than breathing. Sparks of pleasure ricochet through your abdomen, dragging you close to the precipice.

The tip of Adrian’s tongue locks on that little spot, right under the hood of your clit that makes your leg jump on its own, forcing out high pitched mewls that echo through the kitchen. You’re sprinting towards your high—his fingers and tongue a deadly mix. Your orgasm takes you by surprise—a lighter to gunpowder the second Adrian’s wrecked moan meets your ears.

Everything seizes into a tight ball as your release claws through your body like lightning. Your heels dig into his back, fist tightening in his hair as your lungs squeeze—choking on sweet air. The pain of your injuries mixed with the pleasure Adrian gives you plays a rough tug of war with your consciousness—one step to either side and you’re done for. Your high creeps into every cell, every limb until they fall lax—god damn, your hands are shaking.

“Do it again,” He moans, opening his mouth as wide as it’ll go so he can devour more of you. You groan and toss your head back as Adrian keeps going. “That was fucking hot—wish I got that on film.”

You can feel the mixture of his saliva and your own flood of arousal dripping down your cunt and onto the counter—you’ll have to clean up later, you think absentmindedly. Your thighs shake as Adrian pushes you towards another high. Your thighs quiver, struggling not to close them and suffocate Adrian as he redoubles his efforts. It’s raw and bordering that serrated edge of overstimulation.

You clench around Adrian’s fingers and moan a half garbled cry of his name. “You’re doing so good—s’good, Adrian—“

He shudders. Interesting.

Adrian squeezes your ass. Your back arches and you’re fronted with your second orgasm—behind your eyelids it flashes a blinding white, your thighs going rigid. You shatter and cum in his willing mouth, wailing his name to the high heavens. You hope the neighbors don’t hear. Adrian groans raggedly and drags you through it. Fucking hell—you haven’t cum this hard in your entire life. It’s hot and seismic, a chain reaction of lightning cracking against old, dry wood—imploding and rushing up from your center in equal parts madness and ecstasy.

You’re fighting the urge to pass out as things slowly return to you. Adrian’s tongue still laps against your pulsing clit, the angle of his fingers still pressing up tight against your throbbing cunt. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you buck and squirm in his arms—hypersensitive to each touch. Even the hold on your hip, while innocent in nature, is blistering as if you suffered from a fever. You shudder as a salty tear rolls down your cheek. He slowly pulls out of your swollen heat and holds your thigh open with wet fingers, pausing to give your sensitive clit a few more lazy, gentle sucks. Adrian releases you once you jerk away from the sensation. Through the ringing in your ears you pick up Adrian’s raspy praise—thanking you while spattering worshipping kisses up your thighs.

Your belly flinches under Adrian’s prickly stubble as he travels up, seizing and worshiping every inch he’s freely given before you shoo him away—not that you will. He palms at your breast and slots his narrow body between your quivering legs once again. Heat blooms under your cheeks, hotter than star fire as Adrian gingerly sucks your earlobe into his mouth and breathes out a muted moan of your name—committing the very essence of you to his memory for the rest of his days.

“You smell like coffee beans,” Adrian says, shoving his nose into your hair and taking a big whiff. “And coconut.”

You roll your eyes and cup his face. You squish his cheeks and kiss him, one that leaves you both panting and dizzy with arousal. His lips are a wet mess—you laugh as you swipe your thumb over his lips and promptly suck the mix of your arousal and his saliva into your mouth. Adrian’s mouth drops open—a mix of adoration and lust.

His hand drops to adjust the front of his suit. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You shake your head. “You’re such a weirdo.”

Adrian pouts in mock offense. “You’re the one fucking the weirdo—speaking of which…do you wanna—y’know.” He raises a brow, grabs at imaginary hips and thrusts his pelvis up.

Ridiculous. “Sure, Adrian.”

He nods his head and scoops you into his arms. “Baller.”

With that he brings you to his room—again, much neater than you previously thought. Peacemaker the fish sits atop his dresser, mindlessly swimming in its LED illuminated tank. You don’t have time to admire the fish as Adrian settles you onto the bed, head resting against his memory foam pillows. You raise your head to watch Adrian peel off his suit, stumbling and jumping on one foot as he rips his pants free. His boxers have little hearts all over them—distorted by the serious tent he’s pitching.

“C’mere, lover boy,” you beckon. He pulls the top part of his suit off and flings it to the ground. His lean, pale chest is littered with jagged scars—you want to smooth your fingers over all of them—memorize them.

Adrian steps out of his boxers and plants his hands on his hips, exposing the entirety of his naked body for your viewing. “Like what you see? I know Vigilante junior certainly does.”

Your eyes bulge. Jesus Christ—

You would assume, just by looking at Adrian’s stature and build, his dick would reflect that. On the skinner side and maybe a little bit above average. But no—oh, no, no—you have just been humbled within an inch of your life.

Not only is he long, he’s thick too. Flushed a rosy read, rock hard and leaking. “Thimble” your ass. “You’re gonna split me in half with that.”

Adrian’s face drops into genuine surprise. His hand, equally as large as his cock, wraps around the base. “What? Don’t be silly—it’s average.”

His cock bobs as he crawls up the bed, he throws a leg over you and straddles your hips. “No the fuck it’s not—“

“I think I would know,” he snorts, resting his weight onto the front of your thighs, “you don’t even have a dick.”

You mutter a swear under your breath. “Whatever—just go slow.”

Adrian pauses at that, eyes flitting longingly to your lips. He grabs his cock and pumps himself once. “Do you want a taste?”

Fuck it. Why not. You nod and skate your hands up his muscled thighs, urging him closer. The angle is going to be weird but you don’t really care. Once Adrian straddles your middle, as high as he can go without knocking his forehead into the wall, you tilt your head and twist your tongue along the underside of his cock, following the gentle curve up with your tongue. He shutters. Pursing your lips, you run the shaft between them, wetting the throbbing skin to ease the movements of your hand that reaches up to tenderly stroke his length. You use the tip of your tongue to dip along the ridges of his frenulum, then over the tip, your tongue lapping the bead of salty moisture that collects there.

Adrian puffs out a curse, his restless fingers threading through your hair. He guides you closer, sinking his cock further against the flat of your tongue. He whines as the soft warmth of your mouth slips over the flushed tip of cock, his thick length twitching as you hollow out your cheeks. You bob your head, cautious of your teeth catching as you slowly work him in as far as this angle allows—even like this, not even halfway into your mouth, you’re starting to feel the prickly sensation of your lips stretching a bit too much—jaw aching with strain. You groan as your eyes flutter shut. You’d be fine here—half of him in your mouth while your hand compensates for the rest.

He’s fine with the amount you can fit. A slurry of whimpers and half finished sentences fall from his parted lips, thin neck arched as he rocks his hips into your heated mouth. You realize then, pride flaring, that he’s not used to this. Not with how sensitive he is, twitching, abdomen jumping under your hands as they run up his body. Adrian cants his hips forward, crying your name as your hand slides over his thigh to find his balls. You roll them in your palm, hollow your cheeks and swirl your tongue around his tip.

“Shit—“ Adrian yanks himself out of your mouth and leans over you, elbow steading himself against the headboard. His cock, shiny with your saliva bounces onto the swell of your breasts, twitching and dribbling beads of viscous precum. He’s not all the way there in his head as his hips rock against your sternum on their own. Poor lover boy is wrecked—

You shift so that his cock now lays over your perked nipple, your hands rubbing his outer thighs in encouragement. “Look at me, Adrian.”

His eyes crack open, meeting your gaze before they immediately drop to find where he’s positioned. His words rush out in a choppy stream. “Can I fuck your tits? Please? Fuck, I’ll—“

You respond to his request by pushing them together, giving Adrian the friction he craves. Wild eyes glued to your breasts, he rocks his hips, up and down, up and down—entranced by the way the tip of his cock disappears between the soft flesh of your tits, only to reappear a second later. The movement are eased by a mix of your saliva and his leaking cock—but even after the skin dries out slightly, he keeps going. The friction is dry. Adrian nearly looses it right then and there—so fucking close to cumming all over your chest and neck.

Adrian curls into you, chest heaving as your run your hands down his spine, murmuring soft praise. “You can let go like this—I don’t mind.”

Adrian shakes his head that’s now nestled in the crook of your neck. “Nooo—I wanna fuck you.”

You chuckle and pet the back of his head. “Then do it.”

After taking a couple more moments to regain his footing, Adrian then moves off of you and instead kneels with your legs thrown over your hips. Nervous energy crackles under your skin as Adrian runs the blunt head of his cock through your folds, slicking himself up with your arousal. You hope he has some sense not to fucking destroy you with his dick.

Your breath catches in your chest, your nails digging into the flesh of his forearm as the wide tip of him pushes into your entrance—he shudders as you clench and wiggle. It doesn’t exactly hurt, but fuck—you force yourself to inhale and exhale, relaxing your clenching muscles that resist him. You’ll feel him for days, you think, as your cunt swallows inch after glorious inch.

You both groan as he finally bottoms out. His jaw is clenched tight as sweat beads at his hairline—arms shaking as he battles the urge of bursting inside of you this very second. You appreciate the respite, but own impatience tickles up your spine, arousal washing over you with hot claws of need. You gyrate your hips in tiny circles, feeling him throb as you squeeze around him.

A ragged moans severs his stuttered approval as your gentle rocking tilts into needy jolts. At this angle it’s difficult to fuck yourself onto his cock, but the measly thrusts are meant to tempt him into giving you want you want. “I’m going to cum if you keep doing that.”

“Isn’t that the point?” You ask coquettishly, arching your back and letting your eyes flutter shut.

You dig the heel of your foot into the small of his back and grab at his sculpted shoulders—and that’s it. Adrian snarls your name, hooks his hands under the bends in knees and pulls his cock nearly all the way out only to slam back in. There’s no time to adjust or even think before Adrian sets a pace, desperate and rabid. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own well deserved end. Adrian shifts, widening his kneeling stance to sink lower into your body, to mold himself closer to you. You turn your head to nip at his ear, cherry red from arousal and exertion. His soft hair tickles your neck as his staggered exhales burn hot over your sweat soaked skin.

Adrian turns his head to steal a wet kiss. “You feel like heaven—fuck. I already want you again.“

You choke out a groan, your arousal beginning to drip down your thighs—the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter.

“F-fuck, I felt that,” Adrian huffs, burying his hand into your hair. He pulls your head to better suit his desire to tongue your parted mouth. “You like hearing me talk, don’t you?”

Electric heat sears down each vertebrae in your spine. You can only nod weakly. Unable to process words at the moment, you paw at his hand and plant his long fingers between your bodies. He picks up on your line of thinking quickly and begins to rub tight, little circles over your swollen clit. There’s barely any build up—no show or drawn out act that brings to your next orgasm—just a blinding surge of devastating warmth that knocks you off your feet and steals away all the air left in your lungs. Your nails dig into Adrian’s back as you shake and grapple for a foothold in your own sanity—the steady warmth of his body and your bounding heartbeat and anchor against the madness that threatens to drown you. You can’t turn back now—hot venom is mixing with your blood. You can feel it in your fingertips and taste the sweetness on your tongue—like the songs of los saints, like heart blood and the bright, gold light of something more.

His kisses morph into little pricks of his teeth as his hips stutter and struggle to keep a definitive pattern. His curses string together and blur into nonsensical noises and loose tongue admittances that are comparable to moving inches from an imploding star. The maw of his gravity has bitten you like a bear trap and to escape it, you would have to sever your limb—it’ll never happen.

Fuck—you need to give him that same relief. With a sweet whisper of his name against the shell of his ear, Adrian bursts. His moan jumps up a pitch as his eyes slam shut and buries his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder as he cums hard. He’s shuddering as his hips erratically jerk, hot spurts of his release coating your insides and beginning to leak over the sheets.

It’s a miracle—a task you thought impossible. You’ve fucked Adrian to the point of muteness. His hips come to a stop—collapsing over your boneless self. You don’t mind the weight of him—it’s comfy. Your fingers run through the messy sweep of his black hair—he all but purrs atop you. Time beats away like the bass pounding in your chest, rhythm flooding arteries and veins in time with his rapid pulse. Fatigue makes you feel it in your blood—ache a close second to the drifting minutes here.

You…you don’t mind when his fingers interlace with yours. Somewhere inside you, you are polishing the word absence with your tongue and learning not to be terrified of all you lack and what is to gain. This comes with ache—but you know that cuts always close. Spit out the blood and watch your body pull itself together into something new.

Adrian shifts and kicks his chin onto your chest. “Are you hungry?”

You blink down at him and smooth your thumb across his cheekbone, tenderly stroking the dimples that appear when he smiles. “For what?”

He shrugs. “I dunno—burritos?”

You laugh softly. “Sure, Adrian.”

#weLL #jshhkwejrh #adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader #adrian chase #vigilante #peacemaker #chris smith #dc comics #peacemaker show #dc #I am so sorry if there are mistakes akajerkh

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thatsarcasticgemini · 3 years

Text

Alone time

Ash Lynx x reader

A/n: Banana fish broke me, but writing is my coping mechanism, so...This is an AU where Ash and the reader are married and live in Japan, Ash being a model. Also, Shorter is alive cause I said do ( i would die for him to live tbh). I am so sorry for any mistakes.

Babysitting is a very challenging task, especially when the kid is a carbon copy of the most intelligent, cheeky and bratty man Eiji had ever met. Isaac Callenreese was giving the man a headache and pills were not fixing it. Sure, he knew what he was getting into and knew how much Ash and Y/N needed a break from parenting, but why on earth did he agree? At least Shorter was there to help him right?

Wrong! Shorter was like a second kid. Yelling, running, coloring, making a mess and getting little Isaac even more agitated. Just how much energy did the 5 year old have?

“Shorter, please! You are 30! Your playing days are over. You’re gonna break something and I will yell. I almost had Isaac under control, but then you came along to ruin the peace we had. Isaac come here right now or I’ll call Ash!”

“Jeez, Eiji...you almost sound like a grandpa! I haven’t seen Isaac in about a year. I missed him a lot, you know? Little gremlin did a lot of growing up!” said Shorter, with the same goofy smile he had all those years ago. Isaac was seated on the his lap, looking up at his favourite uncle with a wide grin. Based off the resemblance between him and Ash, Eiji could already sense some sort of comment coming.

“Nuh-uh. I wanna stay right here. Call dad “dad” please. And I love uncle Shorter, he’s taller, funnier and smarter than you, uncle Ji. He was telling me how dad knows how to ride a motocycle! It doesn’t get better than this!”

“Yes it does. If you stay quiet for five more minutes, I can get the rice done and I can tell you how Ash and Y/N..”

“Mom and dad, uncle Ji!”

“How mom and dad met while we eat. Does that sound nice?”

“Dunno, let me ask uncle Shorter too.” The two began whispering to each other while Eiji rolled his eyes. Just one more hour and Ash would be here to pick his spawn up. After a minute, both Shorter and Isaac nodded their heads and went to sit down at the kitche table.

Once the table was set and the rice was done cooking, Eiji put it is bowls are brought it to the table. They all dug in, but Isaac seemed to be watching Eiji with great intrest, expecting the story he was promised.

“So Ash and Y/N...”

“Mom and dad. Continue uncle Ji.”

“Mom and dad met around 9 years ago. They met here, in Tokyo, and I am proud to announce that I am the one who got them to meet up, since Y/N went to the same highschool as me. We were both on the drama club in my third year. She was about 2 years younger than me, but she was so mature. Anyway, they started dating around three months after they met. The had a really pretty relationship. You dad was so hooked he embarrassed himself in front of her on multiple ocations. They got married two years later, lived together for two more years and then you came along. You were a very loved little boy. I wish I took a picture of the face your dad made when he held you for the first time.”

“Yeah! He teared up, but don’t tell him you know. You had this little puff of blond hair on your head, it was as fluffy as the little kitty we saw this morning, if not fluffier.” Isaac had look in his eyes that Eiji had only seen once before and that was when Ash told him about Dino and his childhood. The tiny blond seemed to be so vulnarable almost like a porcelain figure.

“What about mom? Was she happy to see me?” There it was. The love Isaac, much like his father, held for her. It was like they would both die if it wasn’t for her love.

“Well of course she was. She really loves you, you know? Your mom loved you even before she had the pleasure of holding you. You have been one of her favourite people ever since she found out you were in her belly. They both love you a lot.”

“Then why am I here? Why wouldn’t they take me with them? Why do they want alone time?” Eiji couldn’t find an answer. He looked at Shorter, who still had that dumb grin.

“Well, Isaac, mom and dad need to rest every once in a while. Since mom got pregnant with your brother or sister, she hasn’t really been able to rest properly, so dad wanted alone time with her to help her rest, but I am sure they will both be so very happy to see you.”

Just like magic, there was a knock at the door, Eiji went to open it, while Isaac trailed behind him, with his little backpack in hand. The door opened to reveal Ash and the boy jumped in his arms at the speed of light.

“Wow! Hi bub! I missed you so much. How was today hmm? Did you have fun with uncle Ji and uncle Shorter? Were they nice to you?”

“Mhm, they told me how you and mama met. I miss mama, is she in the car?”

“No bub, she’s at home. She missed you too. Told me we should race all of the cars and get home in under ten minutes. We have cake.” And with that, Isaac was set back on the ground and the little boy dashed to the car.

“Damn gremlin didn’t even say bye. Here i was thinking we have something special.”

“Hi Shorter! Hi Eiji! I can’t thank you enough for tonight. She really needed it.”

“It’s ok Ash. He is a little loud and Shorter here is never truly helpful, but it’s our pleasure. Are Y/N and the baby ok?”

“Hm, not really. I mean the baby seems to be fine, but she isn’t. Throws up everything she eats. The doctor said it is because her body is getting used to the pregnancy, but this didn’t happen when we had Isaac. I’m just worried for her.”

“She’s strong. She can take it I’m sure.” Shorter nodded, agreeing with Eiji’s statement.

“I know Eiji, I’m not worried about that. Truth is she seems happy to be pregnant. She’s beaming all the time, even after she got everything she ate out, and I feel bad. I feel like she’s in pain. Her smile makes me feel even worse.” Shorter laid a hand on his best friend’s shoulder, taking his sunglasses off.

“Ash...listen to me. Y/N is someone who’s never lied to you about anything. She’s been genuine about everything. She would never fake a smile and she would tell you if she wanted to abort the baby. The fact that she’s smiling and being her bubbly self only means that the pregnacy isn’t that hard on her. Trust me Ash. I see the look in her eyes when the baby is brought up in any conversation. She’ll be fine. You’ll be a bigger family. Loosen up a little.”

“Thank you Shorter. I owe both of you a drink. I’ll call you. Thank you for babysitting again.” And with that, all three of tehm smiled at each other while Ash picked the tiny shark backpack and went back to the car.

Once inside, the older blond turned towards the younger one, smiling.

“Ready to see mom, bub?”

“Mhm! Is she feeling better?”

“Yep.”

The car ride was one of the happy moments Ash wanted to hold onto. The sang together and talked about how Shorter told Isaac about the motorcycle.

“It’s true, you know? I do know how to ride one. When you’re older, I can teach you too.”

“I wanna ride one now. I’ve seen my friends with theirs, I want one too!”

“Those are lame. I’m talking about the real ones. That’s the true fun.”

Once at home, Ash dropped everything on the floor and went to help his son hung his coat on the wall. The little boy jumped out of his red sneakers and ran down the hall yelling for his mom.

“In the kitchen baby. I was cutting you a slice of cake.It’s vanilla, since I know you like the chocolate one’s less. Where’s daddy?”

“Right behind you.” said Ash, placing his hands on her hips and swaying her a little. She turned around to give him a kiss on the cheek, but her 5 month bump got in the way, making her pull a frustred face and Ash smile even more. Isaac pushed his dad to the side a little, making grabby hands at his mom. No matter how old he acted, his real age was always given away by his gestures around his mom.

Getting his slice of cake, Isaac turned back towards the living room. Eating on the couch was never truly forbidden.

“Mama, tomorrow is Yuri’s birthday. He celebrating it at home, I have the invitation in my drawing notebook. Can I go?”

“Sure you can. we just have to go buy a gift in the morning.”

“A birthday huh? That means a little more alone time for us two.” Y/N hid her face in her husband’s neck, smiling a little. Ash’s finger went to the back of her neck, getting her to look up at him to give her a kiss, but then...

“Gross! He likes cars mama, go brainstorm on that insted of smooching dad in the kitchen!”

#ash lynx x reader #ash lynx #shorter wong #eiji okumura #banana fish

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soupbabe · 3 years

Note

Heard you wanted to be spammed with requests-

So uh- Idk if you do platonic headcanons but- maybe platonic Stardust crusaders with a pillar crusader? Doesn't matter what,,, gender the bby pillar person is,,, just,,, sweet pillar babe who's tall af- and totally acts like a doofus at times---

You dont have to do this tho uvu

Stardust Crusaders + Pillarman! Reader HCs

It says Pillar*man* in title, but reader will be gender neutral, I think that's just the species (?) name! Also I like doing platonic requests so I don't mind doing this at all ! <3

Joseph Joestar

He met you around the time he met Santana

You were stuck in the same Pillar as the youngest pillarman, also playing the role of a guard dog before you were turned into stone

The main difference between you and your (uh forced adopted?) brother is that your face broke out in a huge smile and giggles filled the room when he booped your nose and told you to be happy

You were loyal to Kars, but throughout the time in Battle Tendency that decreased due to the realization that he never cared about you and did abandon you without thought

Joseph was there to comfort you through it and you helped in defeating Kars in return

After BT, you were sent to be studied at the Speedwagon Foundation and years later they were able to replicate the red stone of Aja for you

Ultimate Y/N ! Ultimate Y/N !

Sunburn no more

You became a nature deity, similar to Kars

First thing you did when the study was done was prank Joseph into thinking that the Ultimate Lifeform came back

Although it didn't work all too well, your forced down smile and stifled giggles definitely wasn't a sign of Kars, despite the mighty wings you sprouted

You lived with Suzi Q and Joseph for the majority of your new life and you adored being apart of their lives

Also they did make you babysit Holly numerous times even though you had no idea what a human baby looked like until now

Should've learned their lesson when one time you were caught making a rough sketch of what would have been a traditional pillarman tattoo on a 10 year old Holly, claiming that it's needed for her to grow up big and strong like you

Although you weren't a stand user, you had experience fighting ancient supernatural beings stronger than some stand users and you were a deity among men. Joseph didn't wait to take you with him when he found out that Dio was making a return

When Holly got sick and it was clear the crusaders had to go to Egypt, you didn't hesitate to sign up. It was a rare time that you were serious and your loyalty to your aged best friend shined through. You loved his family and you saw Holly grow up, of course you'd be there for him

Throughout SDC, you mostly just laughed at him (mostly during the fight with Mariah) and cracked jokes with him to ease tense situations

Also that bit at the end of the show where he pretended that Dio possessed his body?? He got that from you and you both laughed while Jotaro gave you both a glare

Iggy

Oh my god you barked back.

Y'all gossip with each other in dog, you're a nature deity, of course you can understand him perfectly

Added bonus of your powers is that he naturally relaxes with you

Sleepy gremlin

Jotaro Kujo

It took him a while to warm up to you

You were raised by Kars and Esidisi, dealing people who come off as cold and have occasional outbursts of anger come natural to you

He first doesn't think of you as anything when he first saw you

It wasn't until you sized him up, easily towering over the 6'5" teen, his eyes widened in astonishment a little

He has no problems with you, you're respectful to his mother and you respect his privacy for the most part

You're real bonding moment was when you made a lame, but fairfly obscure, fish pun when beating up the stand user of Dark Blue Moon

You both talked about marine life, he was genuinely interested in your experiences with ancient marine species and types of life before evolution made them what they were today

Although he doesn't like the happy go lucky types of people (they remind him of his annoying fangirls) you'll be the exception

A moment you both really became friends was in the Steely Dan fight

You shot your hand up in excitement, offering to aid in beating the hell out of the cocky bastard that mistreated Jotaro and Joseph

It was a good moment for you both to have light hearted banter and you ended the fight with a smile and a high five

Although persuading Joot to do the high five went more like: "Jotaro please" "No." "Pleassseeeeeee" "*sigh* Leave me alone after this."

I thank that you can't see stands. I can only imagine the endless lighthearted fights you and Star Platinum would have, you both giving each other proud smiles of how strong your friend has become

Noriaki Kakyoin

You gave a welcoming and cheerful aura when he woke up at the Kujo household

Out of all Crusaders, I do like to think that you would think of Kakyoin as more of a little brother

Probably because you miss Santana a bit tbh, red hair and a more reserved personality?? Easy for that to happen

Although you do make sure to keep that distinction between the two separate beings, gotta be healthy bby

You were one to always encourage him to get more out of his shell and be the friend he deserved

He would encourage you to speak about Pillarman society/culture when you both roomed together

One time you pranked him by giving him a handful cherries and giving him a tiny jumpscare when the cherries actually did turn back into your hand

Sometimes you both make fun of Polnareff together </3

Jean-Pierre Polnareff

,,,,big tall gentle giant? Oh my god he would've melted for you at first

He flirted with you first thing after the fight with Avdol, only to be immediately shut down with your laughter

It's not the first time someone hit on you, but his attempt was so cheesy and bad that it was funny

Don't worry he didn't keep on flirting with you though, it was clear that you weren't interested

That and you told him that you were over 1000 years old

You both were outgoing so it wasn't a big surprise that you two got along so well

He actually enjoys your tales of past fights and how it was like not being able to be in the sun for the longest time

That and he asked for hair care tips, your hair is very beautiful to him and to keep it as such even when you were turned to stone? Impressive

You both are dumbasses together, but you're the one to save his ass all the time

Especially during the first fight with Hol Horse, guns can't kill you and even then your skin can create a harsh shell to soften the blow

You just laughed it off, said that it tickled, and encouraged Polnareff to chase after the (now) frightened cowboy

You and Polnareff also have a lot in common too and you both are able to be for each other when it comes to Polnareff's grief over his sister and you technically being the only pillarman alive

Omg Y/N I can't believe you have yourself an emotional support himbo I'm jealous

You're also a wingman/wingwoman for him, years and years of experience (and using Joseph in his younger years as a "what not to do" reference) led you to being the perfect helper in getting whoever Polnareff wants

Muhammad Avdol

He's read about the Pillarmen, but he never thought that they were actually real

So when he met you he was flabbergasted

You and Avdol's friendship is like him unintentionally parenting a 7 foot 5 year old on one of those kid leashes

He knows that almost nothing can cause you great harm, but he still worries

Because of that his favorite form of hanging out with you involves chatting over tea or showing you foods you might not be aware of

In all honesty, it's greatly appreciated since your diet switched from vampires and humans to absorbing like 2-3 raw cows every other week. Your "palate" is not as expansive as you may think

While in India, you were able to buy some Henna and Avdol was very open to you giving him a mock Pillar tattoo

He wore it with pride and was very greatful

Sometimes when he gets homesick you make your arm into a chicken, and although it isn't the real thing, he appreciates it

You also show him ancient Pillar rituals too and it's his favorite thing to listen to

In return, you bother him to show you how to read tarot and tell him about (in your words) "occult business~"

You balance each other out and Avdol cherishes you greatly

When the mission to Egypt was over, he did name a chicken after you btw

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba part 3 #jojos bizzare adventure stardust crusaders #jjba x reader #stardust crusaders headcanons #stardust crusaders x reader #Joseph Joestar x reader #jotaro kujo x reader #jean pierre polnareff x reader #noriaki kakyoin x reader #muhammad avdol x reader #platonic x reader #platonic headcanons

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murswrites · 3 years

Text

Fluff Alphabet ⎯ Harry Bingham

Character/Celeb: Harry Bingham Fandom: The Society MASTERLIST Request from anon: Hello! Can I please request fluff alphabet with Harry Bingham please? Thank you 😌

A/N Yes, he’s a dick in the show but he’s hot shut up. Also this headcanon is sorta in-between the whole thing where it’s just the teenagers and then the real world.

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Everyone thinks Harry finds the “standard of beauty” to be the deciding factor (plus status) in who he likes, but deep down he enjoys someone who makes him feel safe.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

He’s never really thought about it and I’m sure even then, he’s not interested in having kids. I’m sure he’s worried about screwing up like his parents did.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Just laying/sitting beside each other is usually how it goes. But Harry enjoys holding you whenever you spend the night.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Harry’s a certified show-off, so before the field trip he’s definitely taking you out to expensive restaurants and on joy rides in one of his cars. But after everyone is stuck in New West Ham, your dates are far simpler. Usually just sitting under a tree during free time eating together or watching a movie on his projector at home.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

“You are my... favorite person.”

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

He doesn’t like feeling he owes someone something so he honestly doesn’t really realize the feeling of being “indebted” to you was... in fact loving you.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Despite popular belief, Harry is very gentle. He may be a dick to the whole world but with you, he’s kind and genuine. May it be with his words or how he hugs you.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

I feel like the gif above sort of explains it, he’s rather feel your wrist that your hand because (and don’t tell anyone) Harry has clammy hands all the time. It grosses him out and he’s afraid it does the same to you.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

He kind of thinks everyone who isn’t rich isn’t worth his time so honestly? Uh, Harry thought you were boring and not worth his time. Sorry, it’s not cute, I know.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Yes, Harry is that kid that would hog all of his toys on a play date because they’re his. It’s a little toxic how he reacts to certain situations but I’m sure he’d try to work on it if you asked.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

You initiated the first kiss. Harry a bad kisser when you first meet him, he’s only ever kissed like he’s seen in the movies and everyone who had been with him up until that point never said a word. So when you tell him “hey this kinda sucks”, he’s very confused. But you teach him how to kiss you in a way that works and he’s a quick learner.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

You do, I feel like Harry is scared to trust someone completely so he probably holds back on saying that he loves you. But once you say it, he seems to be more comfortable doing so.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

Junior prom, definitely. It may have been chaotic and technically boring but you made it fun for Harry. You two danced the night away. Maybe Harry loves the memory more now since senior prom was a bust... he doesn’t really know.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Before the field trip, he would have bought you extravagant gifts and beautiful things. But after? Harry would probably feel ashamed that he couldn’t give you all and more since he’s been taught that material things = how much you love a person. It would be hard for him to unlearn this.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

I think it would be a warm light pink, it’s soft and soothing. It makes him feel safe.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

He’s honestly basic, so things like “babe”, “baby” or an ugly nickname he chose to make you “angry” with. (ex: gremlin)

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Gardening, when he was younger his mother and him would plant flowers together. Harry hasn’t done it in years but he has fond memories of it.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Watch movies, order takeout. After the field trip it’s pretty much the same minus takeout.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

One word (kind of). A game of fugitive. He is weirdly obsessed with this game, but it brings together his favorite things. Fast cars and telling people what to do. (aka having control)

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Around others, he’s a bit of a meathead with no emotions. But with you he tends to actually open up a bit.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Long and fast car rides with the hood down. It’s weird how adrenaline helps Harry calm down.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Literally everything, Harry will always be a rich kid at heart so it’s honestly in his nature to show off when he can. But despite how he acts, he’s not too proud of himself since his parents never really said they were.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

Harry wouldn’t make it over the top (surprisingly), it would probably be during a picnic or a movie and he’d pull out the box like “here” and then ask.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

Indigo Night - Tamino

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Sometimes, but he knows his parents are on the rocks so it makes him nervous.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

I have a sneaking suspicion he’s allergic to like every animal on the planet. But I think he’d get a short hair cat. Probably the standard brown tabby.

#harry bingham #harry bingham x reader #alex fitzalan #the society #the society imagine #harry bingham imagine #the society x reader #fluff alphabet #pew pew pew? more like queue queue queue

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goldentsum · 4 years

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━ jealousy

REQUESTS: (seperately) bokuto, hinata, and akaashi x jealous s/o. say that she isn’t a very jealous person to begin with but there’s another girl who seemed to have taken a liking to the boys and she doesn’t like it. add some angst if you will :) hopefully ends with some fluff.

🎕 asked by: nonnie 🎕

CHARACTERS: bokuto koutarou, hinata shouyou, and akaashi keiji

GENRE: angst, fluff

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i don’t know if i did it right but D: i’m rlly active rn cus im excited idk why-- also hinata has a lot of dialogue in this one

━ bokuto ♡

bokuto is a jealous baby owl and you know it,, know it too well... he gets pouty if your attention is elsewhere even for a minute!

you, on the other hand, is as cool as a cucumber. well, that what it looks like anyway.

you get jealous quite a lot, to be honest, but your pride won’t live if you show it so you just try to shrug it off every time

but when kou gets a little too much attention it pisses you the fuck off

you get snappy and your mood is down for the day but kou is always on his way to make it better~

the baby owl may be oblivious but when the topic is about you, he pays attention to your every movement and to what makes you tick

so when someone!! a person you hate because of their flirty attitude and rude remarks gets a little too close to your baby--

oh, it's about to go down!

you’re in the cafeteria sitting on one of the free tables, waiting for your hyperactive baby owl, when you see a certain someone clinging to Bokuto and pressing their chest against his arm

aND WHAT PISSES YOU OFF MORE IS THE OBLIVIOUS SMILE ON BOKUTO’S FACE

you turned around and looked at the juice box you bought for bokuto and grabbed it roughly, stabbing the straw to drink it yourself

you knew how popular bokuto was and how ‘plain’ you were but it still hurt when people never respecting bo’s personal space and your relationship as you two were publicly open with your relationship

akaashi, who was lagging behind bokuto, saw this and quickly rescued the dense captain making a certain someone whines about it but akaashi paid no mind and dragged bo away and towards your table

“hey, babe!”

you looked at him and rolled your eyes, scoffing a little with the straw still on your mouth as you proceed to ignore him

bokuto’s eyes widen at that and sat closer to you, leaning closer and putting his head on your shoulder, nuzzling at you.

this usually makes you break but nope, your pride said nope and you ate lunch with bo pouting and whining to you. akaashi who watched the whole scene sighed.

the next time you saw bokuto was at dismissal with him racing to your classroom the moment the bell rang. he went inside when your teacher dismissed you and waited on the side for you even though you were ignoring him. but what slightly shocked you was the serious face he has on.

when everyone else was gone and you were about to go to, bokuto grabbed your hand and made you stay

“what’s wrong? please talk to me...” He whispered, hugging you close to his body.

you pouted at that, the gesture cracking your cold demeanor quickly. you sighed and hugged back the sweet boy.

“i’m sorry for ignoring you, kou...”

you felt his smile on your skin making you smile too

“It’s okay but please explain...”

his innocent words and eyes made you shy. maybe you overreacted a little bit but your ego is too big sometimes

you averted your eyes and looked at your shoes, bokuto’s arms still around you.

“cus... you let (h/n) touch you and you were smiling too!”

you whined a bit, looking up at him. his surprised expression then turned into relief and he started laughing

“who knew you were the jealous type too, (Y/n)!”

you pouted and hid your face on his chest,

“shut up... i’m human too, ya know... and you’re not one to talk, you’re the one who always gets jealous..”

“That’s cus my girlfriend is too pretty and too many guys have their eyes on you!”

you scoffed playfully at that, not having the energy to remind bokuto that those guys were just asking for some notes or something to you, knowing well that it would brew into bokuto pulling up his ‘facts’ and arguments on you again that those guys were unto something...

“shut up, you owl”

“your owl~”

━ hinata ♡

this small bean is also one of the easily jealous type and he creates a safe and danger distance around you in his mind

there’s only a certain distance a guy can come close to you and if that line gets crossed, he goes pROTECTIVE MODE

tanaka and noya are proud of their pupil as they watch him circle around you like a rabid dog or crow?

he is always with you! ALWAYS! And he always buys you some cold drink or if you don’t bring lunch, he lets you share his bento with the courtesy of his mother as he asks her to make a bigger lunch for him when he knew that you don’t really bring your own lunch.

so when it was lunchtime and hinata was nowhere in sight, that worries you a LOT

you run to the courtyard where you two usually hangs out with kageyama but was surprised to only see Kageyama and his milk box

jogging up to the tall male and you asked him about shoyou and you heard an answer you were not expecting to hear

“some fancy pink letter asked him to go to the rooftop, it said that they wanted to say something to that tangerine”

(y/n).exe has stopped working

kageyama looked at you with a quirked brow, still sipping on the milk box, he poked you with a curious look

“why did you let him go, you idiot!” you said, surprising kageyama who pouted and glared at you

“why the hell are you yelling? he’s just meeting someone!”

“you dense blueberry!” you shouted and hit kageyama on the shoulder with a light scowl

kageyama was about to retort when a familiar childish growling caught his attention as you both looked at the side and saw a glaring hinata racing towards you two at a fast rate

“why you kageyama--! don’t get too close to my girlfriends!”

hinata slotted himself between you two and started bickering with the tol blueberry

you sighed at the scene in front of you and a light pink object caught your attention. there it was, a pink chocolate bar in hinata’s hand as he waved it around, trying to punch kageyama.

you frowned at it and started walking away, leaving kageyama and hinata at the courtyard. hiding from hinata, you ate lunch in the bathroom stall as icky feelings start to grow.

after lunch, you quickly run to your classroom wanting to avoid seeing hinata at the moment

but luck wasn’t at your side when Hinata dragged you off and got inside the janitor’s closet with you.

“hinata, what are you doing! lunch is already finished, i’m gonna be late for class!”

you tried to leave the small room but hinata closed the door when you tried to open it

“no! you left me with kageyama all lunch break!”

“i-i had a stomach ache and went to the nurse’s office--”

“i went there too, you weren’t in there”

an awkward silence filled the small room while you looked at hinata with surprise

“i-it doesn’t matter--”

“It does matter! If you feel the need to lie to me then it’s a big matter!” hinata said, frowning at you

you sighed and let hinata hold your hand

“please tell me what’s wrong”

“i heard you got confessed to”

hinata blew a fuse at that and started waving his hands furiously, “h-how’d you know?! i didn’t accept it, i promise--!”

“you didn’t?”

hinata stopped for a moment and looked at you, eyebrows furrowing

“yeah, i got myself the best girlfriend... why would i wanna change that?”

you went closer to Hinata, letting your body hit his and hugged him

“i-i’m sorry... it’s just that, i thought you would find someone better and leave me...”

“I WOULD NEVER! You’re the best girlfriend in the whole wide world, (Y/n)!”

“You’re the best boyfriend too, little tangerine”

━━ akaashi ♡

let’s be real here, you’re definitely the jealous one in the relationship. I mean having a boyfriend who’s too pretty to comprehend and easily attracts a lot of attention can make you like that. but you hide it pretty well, well most of the time anyway...

akaashi always ALWAYS pays attention to you and knows everything that can trigger you to become sad, angry, jealous, and happy

he always makes sure that you’re always fine and happy, that you’re comfortable and content

we stan the perfect boyfie 🥺

bUT he can be quite dense sometimes when it’s not about you or volleyball.. fUKURODANI PPL ARE DENSE

girls would always flock his classroom before you can get there, snacks and treats in their hands to give it to akaashi and being the petty little gremlin that you are, you were pouty

akaashi sighed because it’s always either you were pouty or bokuto is and sometimes the worst-case scenario happened where both of you are pouty at the sAME TIME!

akaashi= Mom Daddy

you reached our final form of pouty when you saw a certain someone a bitch dragged akaashi to talk to him or whatever and being the curious thing you are, you followed them and hid behind the vending machine, listening to their convo

“you know, your girlfriend is cheating on you, right?”

wHY THAT BITCH! She just lied like it’s her common language wtf!

you prayed that your baby boo won’t believe her cus YOU ARE NOT CHEATING ON HIM! why tf would you cheat on him when you hit the jackpot? tf

“and you must know that spreading rumors and lies about a person can take you off the first string in the track team right?”

oOF--! YOUR BOYFIE REALLY POPPED OFF HUH

you snickered behind your hands, listening to the lying snake stutter a complain but akaashi cut her off

“if this is all then I’m going now but if i hear any rumor circling around (y/n), i won’t hesitate to take action myself.”

the snake scoffed at that and walked away, stomping

there was silence for a moment but then keiji called out, surprising you

“i know you’re here, (y/n)”

you stiffened at that and moved away from your hiding spot while coming up with excuses

“i-i wasn’t doing anything! she just dragged you off so i followed--!”

akaashi smiled softly at you, walking closer and patted your head gently making you feel flustered.

“i know, let’s go? you must be hungry”

“you won’t leave me for her, right, keiji?”

akaashi shook his head at your question, a small smile on his face and looked at you, letting his hand fall and held your smaller hand in his

“it’s not like you’ll let me leave”

“HEY! you make it seem like i’m holding you as a hostage or something!”

“hmm”

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

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Demon Brothers Meeting the MC’s Family

I mean, if they have any family at all, what could they even tell them anyway? “Sorry Mom, still in Hell so I won’t make Thanksgiving but I’m doing great though!” This is another long one folks, but I lowkey kind of love it a whole lot. Sooo fun to write. One of my favorite posts so far.

Lucifer

Thinks it's a little weird that they’re so adamant to introduce their family to a literal demon but also kinda gets it. Family is the most important thing to him too.

Is very focused on making a good first impression, from image to attitude. Their approval isn’t going to do jack to stop him from being with the MC but he’d still take pride in being able to charm them for a night. Besides, if the MC cares then so does he.

Has more experience with the human world than the others so he’d know a lot of the do’s and don'ts already. They won’t need to worry about him making some kind of slip up.

Would love the irony if the MC’s family is religious at all. Christian/Jewish especially. May or may not play along with their little rituals but is going to make a lot of thinly veiled, passive-aggressive comments towards his "old man."

Would be most comfortable in a setting where there’s a lot of intellectual discussion or debate. He loves to steer a conversation down towards politics or other controversial things to get a rise out of people. The MC may need to reign him in if that’s a big no-go zone.

Isn’t really going to get along with any younger siblings the MC might have. Either he’s too stiff or too scary. If they’re looking for a playmate, look somewhere else.

Also not going to be particularly fond of any pets they have one way or another. Though he may take a shine to pitbulls or rottweilers because they remind him of Cerberus.

Mammon

You sure about this, MC? Him? Really? Are you really sure? He’s going to think they're crazy but he’s not going to refuse.

Will be so freaking excited if they’re from a well-to-do or, dare say, rich family. So much stuff to steal admire. Yeah, yeah no stealing from the MC’s family, he gets it... He’ll really try his best but it might be good to keep an eye on him.

Surprisingly though, he’s not going to be disgusted if they’re from a poor family either because the dude gets it. Money is hard to come by and things can be tough. He might even… pay... for some stuff while he’s there... You know, if he can. Don’t make a big deal out of it… He's got an image to keep.

He’ll try his best to not come off like a total scumbag and it may actually work. He’s rough around the edges but there’s plenty of chances for his better side to shine through as long as he stays on good behavior.

They will have to be sure that he doesn’t get to talking too much because his dumbass will let it slip that he’s a demon.

Mammon may not love kids but kids love him and any younger siblings are going to do the same. Even if he calls them little gremlins, he’ll let himself get roped into whatever game they’re playing and make it a lot of fun in the process.

Bring on the pets! He’s more of a dog person but he’ll play with a cat too. He may not be as animal-obsessed as Satan but he loves a good furry companion every once in a while.

Leviathan

NOOOOO and you can’t make him!!! A social event involving strangers where he has to make a good impression?? Fuck no, that sounds like actual hell and he doesn’t want anything to do with it!

… But he also can’t just let the MC go back to the human world alone because what if they meet someone better than him and get reminded that they’re with a good-for-nothing otaku…? Okay he's going. But he’s going to pout about it.

His first impression is going to make him come off like a nervous wreck no matter what. There’s really no polishing this bundle of anxiety. The best he can hope for is to ride this thing out until it's done.

Will be pretty quiet and cling to the MC like a life-raft the entire night. Refuses to be left alone with their family in any capacity, he could not handle the awkward silence. If they’re going to the bathroom, then he’s going too damnit.

If they have a pretty nerdy family then he might be a bit more comfortable. Especially if any of their siblings/parents game or are into anime. Steering conversation more towards his comfort zones will help him out a lot...

If they have little siblings who play a lot of video games then he is going to be the coolest person in the world. Period. He knows all the best strategies to practically any game out there, demonic or human. He may even loosen up a little bit and start smiling if he gets to wow an audience with his gaming prowess!

Like Lucifer he’s not going to be all that impressed with pets either way. He’ll think fish are pretty neat and probably even reptiles too but don’t expect him to get too cuddly with a dog or anything.

Satan

Doesn’t hate the idea but agrees that his name is going to have to change if they’re really serious about it. “Hey everybody this is my boyfriend, Satan!” is only going to be appealing to very niche circles...

Like Lucifer, he's going to be mindful of how he comes across. He'd rather the MC's family likes him than didn't, even if it's irrelevant, so expect him to be very polite and sociable. Damn near the perfect gentleman.

… Until something/someone sets off his temper. He may not go full Wrath on the situation but it's probably best to get him out of the room real quick so he can cool down.

Would love if the MC comes from an super educated family but it’s not a must. He's the kind of guy who will ask a lot of questions about any person's profession/skills and how things work regardless of background. He's curious that way.

Either way, he is going to show off his smarts and make sure that their family knows where his intellect is at. He wants them to know that the MC picked someone with a good head on their shoulders, after all.

Best keep him away from small children and bratty teens. He isn't exactly opposed to kids, but it takes one little shit to set him off and NO ONE looks good yelling at someone else's kid. Deserved or not.

Will there be cats? Do you have a cat? Please say you have a cat! He's okay with dogs too but if the MC has a cat this man will be ecstatic. The cat will love him and he will love it right back. Honestly, he's already adopted it. It's his now. Who's MC?

Asmodeus

Baby, you can take him anywhere and he’ll be the life of the party! A little family gathering doesn’t matter to him.

Is going to make sure that the moment he walks through the door the MC's family is in awe of what a catch they've got for themselves. He wants them to be proud of their little MC! To him, that translates to looking good and being fun!

Hope this is a house used to physical affection because he will not (and probably cannot) turn it off. Everyone gets hugs. Everyone.

Extra affectionate the whole night. He'll hold the MC's hand or arm or waist or really any part he can get away with. Kisses on the head and cheek aplenty. He may also lowkey butter up their parents with loads of compliments no matter what situation they're in.

If he's told to cool it on the touching though, he may get offended.

Is going to be better with teenage siblings than little, little ones. The man lives to give dating advice, fashion tips, or makeovers, you name it. Though he has to be careful to mention just human products and not some of the stuff he has back home.

Animal fur on his clothes? After he dressed himself so carefully?? No thanks. You can have your cute puppy or your little kitty. He'll take pictures, but he's probably not going pet much.

Beelzebub

Is honestly kind of honored by the suggestion. The MC is already a part of his family so it only seems natural to make him part of theirs. Though he has some reservations, mostly around his appetite...

He doesn't go up to the human world very much because it's really hard for him to stay fed. He's well-known enough in the Devildom that restaurants know what to expect when he walks in. Not so much up there.

Arrange the meeting around a state fair, festival, or carnival where the food is plentiful and he's golden. Hopefully their family won't be too disturbed by how bottomless his stomach is…

Beel is a sweetheart through and through but his lack of knowledge about how the human world, or humans in general, work might come back to bite him. He may need a little 101 about human manners before going.

Truthfully, their family is in for a real treat! This giant may look intimidating, but he's as gentle as they come. The kind of guy who will carry their grandmother’s bags with a smile on his face just for the sake of being helpful. 10/10 Sweetie, mother will approve.

Ooooh little kids are going to love Beel. He'll let their siblings hang off of him like a jungle gym. Will also play games with them if they want him to. Doesn't matter to him, their family is his family too and he wants to see them all happy.

Man wants dogs. Preferably big ones that he can rough-house with but little dogs he can cuddle work too. Do remind him that he can't just rip a whole-ass branch off a tree to play fetch like you could with Cerberus.

Belphegor

Really? You want that? Lol, okay but no promises. This is pretty much the equivalent of sticking two unlabeled chemicals together in a beaker and leaning in to see what happens. Who knows, but now you're stuck in the middle of it.

He's not going to try especially hard to make a good impression or change himself in any way. If their family is into people who are kind of chill and sarcastic then he'll get along swimmingly. If they were expecting more of a Satan type, yeah. No. He's not holding open any doors.

Won't be taking the whole thing all that seriously to be honest, like, what are a bunch of humans going to do if they don’t like him? Tell MC? They're certainly not going to be able to make him leave. He's humoring them at best, even if he's nice, so why bother fussing about it?

Might be a disrespectful little troll at times like pretending to fall asleep or making casual jokes like "Oh no, ma'am. I'm not all that comfortable with that cross over there because I'm a demon. …. Got ya, didn’t I? That'd be silly." *shit-eating grin*

Would appreciate a quiet, slightly introverted family the most. He's going to start getting annoyed if people in the house are too loud and may speed the whole thing along as a result.

Kids are things he'd rather avoid than have to interact with, but if pressed he will humor the little ones too. Don't expect him to do a whole lot of moving, though. If they're happy to just show him things that he can semi-pay attention to, that works for him.

MC has a pet? Is it fluffy? Is it lazy? Bring'em here. Like Beel, he likes big dogs but would rather just bury his face in fluff than try to wrestle it. He may actually fall asleep with them if they lay still enough for it.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #shall we date #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #whoyoubringinghome?

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crown-anon · 3 years

Text

@hearts1ck my beloved

November 1st

CW: explicit; more CWs under the cut

format: one-shot

people: GeorgeNotFound

pronouns: he/him; reader has male anatomy; more specifics under the cut

edited 14 March 2021

anonymous asked

consider. okay. CONSIDER. consider masochist george. okay?? okay. okay LISTEN.

I think I have a problem with gimmicks also. because. because. ever since strawberry milk george, I. I have not stopped thinking about strawberry flavored lube. because! listen okay hear me out.

(this is absolutely 110% a response to discovering that you share a birthday with him. what of it?)

I know everyone likes pillow princess george and. that's okay. that's FINE. these are not mutually exclusive.

george looking up at you with The LookTM wearing some pink strawberry milk lingerie. not even lingerie really! just something cute like that

& him being like. "I know you love me 👉👈 but I need you to fuck me like you don't"

so I was. thinking. that brat george is the exact kind of person to say (playfully & consensually) "but I don't wanna give you head, I just wanna fuck >:(" after you've got him worked up, maybe from teasing him throughout the day, or edging him a little. but you still need some type of lube. so you go to apply the first bottle you see and he's pink when he asks you "😳 is that ... strawberry ... ?" and you're confused like ??? bro you just asked me to fuck you into next week why're you interested in the flavored lube

but. but listen. he would get so enthusiastic about it. at first it's just "maybe I can stand to eat them out just a little bit before ..." and then after you come the first time it devolves really, really quickly into the need to just. take care of you. and it stretches on until you've come three or four times, and you're still shaking, and he's just. completely gone in subspace

hmm ... george climbing up onto your lap when he's done with you, going in to give you a kiss, and he tastes like strawberry. and he ends up moaning right into your mouth because he's been so horny but so? understimulated?? that he outright jumps as soon as his dick grazes your thigh. it would only take a couple stuttery grinds before he's finishing on both of your stomachs

and he's just so cute when comes, or when he bites down on your shoulder to keep himself quiet. and it's your birthdays. so, you decide you'll give him a reason to cry. and he'll finally get put in his place! it's a win-win for both of you!!

istg every time I send you an ask I discover something new about myself. you. you have made a dreamteam simp out of me. I am but a shell of the man I once was. I think I should thank you? [👑]

hearts1ck

i say this nearly every time you send stuff in but...... by god you own my soul. all of it. this – i – first of all, the implications of masochist george losing his fucking mind when you’re rough with him? guhhhfjklgjgf. and ,..d,,f,,, ,, ,, george in pink lingerie. i. i . a... pink satin slip maybe or .... ohghfd; oh my god those. that cat panty/bra set. im ascending im losing my brain as i type this i cannot –

okay im back on earth. he’d get into that rhythm and settle like liquid while he gets to work on you, and his subspace face is so self-satisfied and nearly smug so he’s just having the time of his life,,, and he makes such a loud noise when his dick twitches against your thigh and maybe... JUST MAYBE he whimpers extra watery when you drag his hips to grind against where you’re wet and dripping/your spent cock as if he’s the one who’d get overstimulated by it. when he finally leans away, eyelids heavy, you gently fit your hand over his jaw and ask, “did you even ask? it’s one thing to come without permission, but not even caring to ask? georgie, i might just be offended,” and he whines “green”s against your neck before you even check-in

and because u made it abt both of our birthdays ,,,, spanks for each year we’ve been alive methinks ??? and then the scratch down his ass gets him hard again and he’s so embarrassed by it, ,,, , ,, ,, ,, ,, ,

also thank god you’ve joined the george boat. i’m so proud of myself for hopefully being part of the reason you got dragged over here HJFKDHSKD

#👑 anon #(my beloved) #keep #anon thoughts: george #redsick #SHAWTY WANT THE WHOLE CREW SHAWTY BAD

as soon as you said birthday spanks I decided I had to write more about this. and I was going to leave more snippets in your askbox like the fucking gremlin creature I am, but then my thoughts started. actually having structure? and then I started writing it. and I tried to do homework and write on study breaks only but. I just kept coming back to this. this is the polar opposite of writer's block. I think I'm cursed or something. so here I am rushing to finish this so that I may rest in peace!!

yes I've been writing nonstop since I sent you that ask. what of it. what the fuck of it.

when I said I discover something new about myself every time we interact, I. I'm serious. I think I might be insane or something. I'm way too sadistic. you'll see. what the fuck is this? what the fuck did I just write??

this would have done so much critical psychic damage if I had posted it on November 1st in real life, but mental illness says I can't let my horny thoughts rattle around in my brain for that long. so!! it's you guys's problem now xoxoxo

I'm not fucking proofreading this. love you though 💗

I did end up proofreading actually. oops! looks like posting at 23:00 isn't always a good idea.

November 1st

CW: explicit, anal (kind of vague), bondage (collar + leash), corruption, domspace (I think??), edging, handjob, humiliation, masochism, oral, praise, sadism, spanking, subspace, swearing. I call George a whore and a slut at least once. and also, George calls yellow at one point. this one kind of surprised me so just. Be Careful. I cannot believe I wrote this. I don't know where this came from.

format: one-shot

people: GeorgeNotFound

pronouns: he/him; I use the word "sir;" reader has male anatomy; I use the words "cock," "dick," and "head;" reader can ejaculate

—

dawn shines through drawn curtains, illuminating the tile floor and your robed figure reflecting off it. batter sizzles in the skillet as you flip the last pancake over. this side looks golden brown, like honeycomb or caramelized sugar. that delicious, freshly-baked fragrance mingles with scented candles. it's perfect, you smile. he's going to love it.

you lift the pancake with a spatula, stacking it on top of the others on his plate. you bring it to his seat at the table, along with the butter, the syrup, the honey, the jam…and you go to pour him a drink.

"hey baby," you greet warmly to the sleepyhead rubbing his eyes in the entryway, still clinging to a pillow. his hair's a mess, only wearing socks and a sweatshirt that reaches down past his thighs. you reckon he'd only just crawled out of bed.

"morning…" he yawns, stumbling past you to take his seat.

"milk?" you ask, he only nods. "did you sleep okay?"

he hums affirmatively. "I…can we…"

one track mind, you joke inwardly. but you don't blame him. "of course," you open the fridge.

you hear him pause. "…is it too early for that?"

"no, no!" you give him a lighthearted laugh. "I kind of expected it, to be honest…I want it, too."

he's silent under the noise of you rummaging through the fridge. "I—"

"sorry—it looks like all we have is strawberry milk. is that alright?"

"yeah…yeah, that's alright. I…actually…wanted to try something new." you shut the fridge, he's fidgeting in his seat.

"hit me with it," your expression is gentle. you pass his cup off to him, but he holds his hand over yours a little too long, looking up at you.

"fuck me like you hate me."

you don't know if it's hearing him swear, or the way he said it so calmly, or how he closed his eyes and swallowed hard before his tone could dip down into something lower. but like a match in an torrent of gasoline, suddenly you're burning up.

you only realize you're staring when he bites his lip and looks down. you start to say something, but the words don't form.

he laughs nonthreateningly, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "is that a yes?"

you laugh with him. "I…yes, absolutely yes." you turn back around to make your own stack of pancakes. "you should eat first, though."

"what?" he teases. "will I need the energy?"

you smile. "yeah. I think you will." you can practically feel him open his mouth in protest, but he stays silent after that.

and it stays mostly silent while you cook your pancakes. you hear the clinking of his fork on his plate, but it isn't very disruptive. it sounds like he's hurrying to finish his food.

when you go back to the table with your own platter, he's already done eating. he's red down to his neck, fidgeting with the hem of his sweatshirt, looking at you expectantly. you spot a pair of tassels peeking out from under it, just below his hip bones. is that…

he pulls the hem up just a bit, holding your gaze. he smiles, apparently satisfied watching your face heat up.

"I—you should go…go get ready," you manage. he gets up before you even finish your sentence, only stopping to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

except it isn't quick, when he slides his hand down to rest firmly on your collar, and leans in to trail kisses down your neck. "a-and leave that on," you stutter.

he pauses, just under your jaw. "leave what on?" he murmurs.

your breath catches, you shut your eyes. "whatever the fuck it is you're wearing under there."

he's hardly grazing your skin, but you can feel how hot he is next to you. it takes all of your willpower not to shiver.

he pulls back quickly, only his hand lingering. "I don't know what you're talking about." and just like that, he disappears into your bedroom.

you reach up a hand tentatively to your collar, hot to the touch. I'm in way too deep, you decide, and force yourself to take a bite of your food despite your nerves.

—

"that," you hiss. "that fucking outfit. that."

"oh, this?" he bites his lip, hooking his thumb in the keyhole. "this's just what I went to bed in last night."

"fuck you. we both know that isn't true."

he tugs gently on his top, pulling it a little to the side. "what's the big deal? can't I wear something special for my birthday?"

"it's special, all right," and you leave it at that, opting instead to slot between his legs where he sits waiting on the edge of the bed. you bring up a hand to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb across his cheek. you'll never get enough of the way he looks at you, like you're intoxicating.

…? you frown.

"is something…missing?" he perks up instantly at "missing."

"what…?" he chooses his words carefully.

"the collar—your collar. where is it?" you turn away to start going through your bedside table, but the way his lips quirk up into a sly smile isn't lost on you.

that's lube…that's a vibrator…where the fuck is it…? "w-what collar?" he stumbles over his words.

your mind jumps to say, the collar that came with that outfit, or I know you know what I'm talking about, but you won't give him the satisfaction. you decide to speak a little darker, only a firm "George." you hear him swallow.

"w-well," his voice is shaky, "you only told me to leave on whatever I was wearing under my shirt. and…I wasn't wearing that collar at breakfast…s-so technically…"

you stop looking immediately. you turn to take him in, legs crossed, stance confident, but expression showing uncertainty. you can see the regret on his face. "get up." he takes a shallow breath. "get up."

"I'm—"

"don't I'm sorry me," you snap. "you look for your fucking collar on your own."

he slips off the bed, looking ashamed, but starts digging through the drawer all the same. "I really am sorry," he murmurs. you take his place sitting on the bed. he finds what he's looking for rather quickly: a simple white leather collar with a bell, and a leash. he hands them off to you shyly. "um, here…"

"good boy," you praise. "kneel."

he shuts his eyes and does as he's told. you can see the bliss wash over his face just at being ordered around. his lips part a little as he lets out a heavy breath. if only I knew what this would do to him, you muse, I'd have done this ages ago.

you fasten the collar, revelling in how he shivers at the gentle sensation of cold leather hanging around his neck. you leave it a little bit loose, but still comfortable, and hook the leash in its place. he sits obediently still on his knees, looking deep in thought.

"Oh, I know what I'm gonna do to you," you bait. "how old are you today?"

"mmm. twenty-five." he looks down.

you smile, holding tight onto the leash. "I'm gonna edge you. twenty-five times."

he flinches away immediately, yet hums in pleasant surprise when the leash snaps taught. the bell jingles stiffly. "no way. that's way too much."

"I think you should've thought about that before you wore that to breakfast," you decide, tugging a little. he's caught off-guard and stumbles forward, stopping himself by leaving a clumsy pair of kisses on the inside of your thigh. the metal and leather feel refreshingly cool against your feverish skin. "we've got all day, baby."

you expect to hear some kind of protest, you're crazy. or a playful taunt, I'm better off doing this by myself. but he knits his brows and openly moans at the thought. "all day…" he repeats.

he looks up at you, almost pleading, and you can hear the resignation in his voice when he whispers "alright."

"get up here," you command. "on top of me." as he climbs up into your lap, a little too eagerly, you add, "and take your dick out."

you shrug your robe off your shoulders while he's working on his panties, and without thinking, you ask, "color?"

he stops, leaving his head poking cutely over the waistband. he looks up at you again. "…what?"

"um…color," you explain. "like, how are you doing? is this okay? I don't actually want to hurt you. uhhh…green means good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop."

he stifles a laugh. "you're such a nerd. I'm okay."

"alright." you blush a little. "we can stop whenever you need to. this is for you…" you think of something horribly unsexy to say. "…birthday boy."

now he's really laughing, with his whole body. you think the way it makes his collar jingle is cute. "oh my god. shut up. just shut up," his expression turns serious, and he drops to a whisper, "and fuck me."

that got you hot again. you pull him by the leash into a kiss, you bite his lip, you eat him up. and you grab the both of you together with your other hand, you moan in tandem. you can feel how you took him by surprise in the way he twitches under your thumb, the way he leans into you with his whole body. you part from the kiss and he leans back on his heels, panting hard, holding on to your shoulders for support. you can feel him shaking a little.

when you move your hand all the way up the first time, you squeeze both of your heads gently, and he practically falls into you. muffled in the crook of your neck, he begs, "god, do that again."

so you do. again. and again. what was a string of stuttered breaths turns into a single broken moan as you jerk the both of you off. when you think you're getting close, you let go of yourself to focus all your attention on him.

"fuck, sir," he whines—hahaha, that sir made your cock leak a little. he shut his eyes tight. "I-I-I think—I think I'm—"

just like that, you stop, and he goes slack, practically laying on you. but he doesn't grind back, or even move to touch himself. that won't last very long.

you let him come back down, knowing edging takes a lot out of you; maybe even more so than actually coming does. slowly but surely, his breathing steadies. you rub between his shoulderblades affectionately, still trying to ground yourself, too.

once you've found your voice again, you question, "are you gonna count for me?"

he makes a sound against your skin, somewhere between excitement and fear. "…o-one." you revel in how fucked-out he sounds already.

"one what?" you prod.

he seems at a loss, like he's forgotten himself, what he said. after a minute or two of pondering, he catches on. "…sir."

it's your turn to moan. your dick jumps at the honorific, still mostly untouched against your stomach. "good boy." and you dive back in. twenty-four to go.

—

it's noon. you're working on nineteen. and your partner's getting much more…expressive. he's started biting his hand to keep himself quiet, but he's still…

"I-I—oh fuck, I'm—fuck, I-I'm—I'm—" he whimpers through his teeth. and he yelps, whole body shaking, bell jingling incessantly, when he comes all over your hand and stomach.

you take your hand off him immediately, and this time he does try to reach down, ride through it, but you grab both his wrists to stop him. he grinds down uselessly against your thigh and your dick. although you're still hard, and only a hairline trigger away from coming yourself, it doesn't stop you from keeping this brat in line. you only bite your lip and close your eyes.

he leans his forehead against yours, moving in to give you a kiss, but you push him away.

"did you never learn how to fucking count?" you growl.

he winces. "I-I-I-I'm…I'm sorry—"

you scowl at your hand, covered in come. "here, slut," you raise it up to his lips. "clean this off for me."

he tears up a little, but takes your fingers into his mouth all the same. pretty quickly, though, he spits them back out.

"it doesn't taste good…" he complains.

"oh? oh, it doesn't?" you mock. "but it felt good, when you came without my permission, like a cheap fucking whore."

a couple of tears spill over, roll down his cheeks, yet he says nothing, only moving back in to lap his come off your hand. you can see it in his expression that he's not very happy about it, but he doesn't protest further.

"is this good enough, sir?" he asks, when it seems that he's gotten it all. it looks clean enough, you agree. you grab him by the chin, hooking your thumb in his mouth. you don't even have to tell him to suck.

"you come without my approval again, and it's over. you can go back to playing minecraft—or what-the-fuck-ever—with your friends for your birthday. do you want to sleep on the couch, Georgie?"

if he wasn't crying before, he's definitely crying now. he doesn't shake his head, but he circles your fingertip with his tongue enthusiastically, as if to say, I'll be good, I'll be good this time, looking up at you doe-eyed.

"bend over for me," you demand. "across my lap."

he does so immediately. he slips a little bit while he's changing positions, you hear the bell ring, and he scrambles to correct himself. he settles with his ankles crossed and his head in his hands, propping himself up on his elbows. you feel a little bad, you admit, but you won't budge; he has a safeword, you trust that he'll use it.

"let's try that again," your tone softens. "I want you to count for me, okay?"

he nods.

you pull his panties to the side, pause briefly, and bring down your hand with a satisfying smack.

"ohhhhhh—" he moans, jolting a little. "—holy shit, did you just spank me?"

your stomach drops, you go to rub him gently where you just hit him. "is that okay—?"

"it's hot, it's so hot, fuck," he shifts in your lap. "um, sorry…one."

seriously, something about hearing him swear awakens something in you, every time. you're fired up. you spank him again.

"mmm—two…" is he…? "three…"

you pause to massage his ass again, and to speak. "you're…you're hard again, aren't you?"

you didn't even spank him yet, but he lets out a moan. "fuck, I—I just. I want you. I want this. so, so much."

you wonder if this is actually the same George who was fidgeting with his pillow in the dining room this morning.

"you're so bad, getting turned on by something like this," you tease. he only moans in response.

"four—five—six—seven…" he chokes out. "it's starting to sting…"

you take a break, kneading the skin where your angry red handprint is starting to take shape.

"eight…nine…but god, it hurts so good…" he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "ten…"

at ten, you linger for a moment, holding a handful of his ass. "does it?"

"yes—yesyesyes," he buries his face in the pillow, and shivers. "fuck, eleven…twelve…"

you pull his panties down to his knees, and switch sides. he lifts his hips up, so I can reach him better, you guess. you don't miss the telltale glint of a butt plug, but you'll get to that later.

"thirteen—fourteen—fifteen—sixteen," he moans between slaps. he's gripping the pillowcase so hard his knuckles are white.

in this new position, the way he jumps with every hit makes his cock brush against yours just right. fuck, you're still hard from earlier. this time you're the one who whimpers.

"seventeen, eighteen," he pauses, breathless. you pull gently on his leash, he arches his back and moans, "n-nineteen." his bell jingles.

he grinds down, just for a moment, and the friction is delicious. you're a little dizzy, you think you might've thrust back. you both sigh at the feeling.

"…t-twenty…see? I-I can count…I'm a good boy…I'm good for you…aren't I?"

"you are," you murmur, but you aren't sure he hears you. "you're so good…"

"twenty-one—twenty-two…I-I feel like I haven't done anything right today…twenty-three…"

"…George…?" you hear a muffled sob.

"twenty-four…" he mumbles.

"George?" you start to get concerned. he just keeps crying. "hey…" you whisper. you gently prompt him to turn him over; the pillow's a little wet. you pull the panties off all the way, and get him out of the bra, which had a little stray come on it. you help him sit up in your lap, and pull him into a hug.

"am I really just a whore…?" he asks brokenly.

"you've been so good for me, baby. you've done everything I've asked." you wipe his tears away with your thumb. "are you okay?"

"but I—" he coughs. "—I came too soon, I came without your permission…"

you kiss his hair, and hold him to your chest. "you've been so patient. I'm proud of you."

he finally wraps his arms around you. "I-I'm sorry."

"nonsense," you reassure. "your comfort takes priority. are you okay? color?"

"I…" he searches for the words. "I dunno. yellow? I…that hurt, I think. being…degraded?"

you comb through his hair with your fingers. "I understand. thank you for telling me. I love you."

—

you stay like that for a minute. you grab him a snack and a drink, but for the most part, you just enjoy each other's company, tangled-up together. you don't bother putting your clothes back on.

it's later in the evening. you're straddling him, peppering his shoulders with kisses, and he's giggling underneath you. he turns over to give you a short and sweet kiss.

"baby?" he says, looking expectantly.

"what is it?" you sit back on your heels.

he hesitates. "…I wanna keep going. from earlier."

you're serious again. "are you sure you're okay?" you grab his hand, bringing it up to kiss his fingertips. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm alright," he assures. "I remember you promising me an all-day thing, though."

you blush, a little surprised by his forwardness. "of course. I think…I…" you laugh. "I wanna fuck you."

"yeah?" he smiles, leaning up close. "show me how much."

you hold his jaw while you kiss him, biting his bottom lip between your teeth. he tastes like the coffee and cream you made him earlier. you feel his breath hitch. he reaches up to hold your shoulders.

you pull back. "hey, blow me first."

"what? why?" he giggled.

"it's been a couple hours, I'm not hard anymore," you coax. "I thought you liked taking orders?"

he cringed. "but come tastes gross!"

you slid off him and hopped off the bed, opening the drawer. "suit yourself. you get to watch me jack off, then."

"fine by me, I think you look good when you masturbate."

"ohhh, I forget, you're too blissed-out to pay attention to how I look when you're getting fucking owned."

"I am not!"

"you are too!" he sticks his tongue out at you.

you open the lid, pouring a little on your hand, a little on your cock. it's translucent pink, seems a little fragrant. you give yourself a couple of strokes with a sigh.

he's quiet for a second, then, shyly, "um…is that…strawberry flavored…?"

you bite your lip. "I thought you weren't gonna give me head?"

"I was just curious." it's a weak lie, but you say nothing.

your eyes are shut, but you can feel him moving around a bit on the bed, you hear his bell ring a couple times. you feel a hand on your thigh, so you decide to peek. and holy shit.

your partner's made his way to the floor, on his knees between your legs, holding his leash in his mouth, his fucking mouth, what the fuck. his thumb's rubbing circles on the inside of your thigh. the half-lidded look he's giving you should be criminal.

"you—I thought you said you wouldn't…" you can't find the words. you reach out and take the leash from his mouth. you see your hand shake in front of you.

"I'm just watching…" he whispers, looking up at you, mesmerized.

you're only able to get a couple of pumps in before he's joining you, hand over yours as you get yourself off. just the extra sensation of somebody else's touch is enough to make you bite back a moan.

"fuck—!" you jolt when he licks a stripe up the underside. he mouths over the head, jerking you off on his own now. you move to grip the sheets in one hand, his leash in the other. and you come without warning. you see it end up on his hand and your stomach before you shut your eyes tight.

he's quiet while you're coming down, just helping you ride it out, giving you kisses on your thighs. when you look back down at him, he's got two of his fingertips in his mouth, licking them clean. he stands up abruptly, it startles you a little. you see his bell ring. and he grabs you by the hips and leans down to your midriff.

"…I don't think I cleaned you off all the way earlier…" he breathes, and he starts to lap up the mess of his and your come that's been on you since this afternoon.

what the fuck. why is this so hot? why is he so hot? all too soon, your spent cock twitches in interest at your lover. he cups it with a hand, smiling against your tummy. you're so sensitive it hurts. you think you mean to say something, but nothing comes out.

"hmm…?" he bites his lip. "you still want some more?" all you can do is whine. at this point, you don't know if it's in protest or invitation.

you don't get the chance to find out either, because fuck, he's really going down on you now. you don't know what the fuck he's doing with his tongue, or where his gag reflex went, but at this rate you're gonna come again.

"George—George, baby, I—slow down, I-I'm—" you plead. his leash slips out of your hand, you tip your head back.

he swallows.

—

the last thing you remember is coming harder than you ever have in your life. you think you held him by his hair. you might've fucked his mouth a little. he's never let you come in his mouth before…fuck…

it's nighttime now. he's riding your thigh, got one of his legs slotted between yours. the friction between his knee and your overstimulated cock feels embarrassingly good. you're so dizzy, all you can articulate is a loud moan. you don't sound at all like you remember. his bell keeps ringing and ringing and ringing as he grinds against you.

he leans down, one arm holding your hip, the other keeping himself propped up. he bites your shoulder, hard, hard enough to bruise. he comes on both of your stomachs.

"George," you beg. you're losing your voice.

"mmmmmmsir," he slurs. "fuck me."

"George, I…" you don't know what you're saying. the end of your sentence turns into a whimper.

"you need me to get you hard again? you need me to rile you up?" he turns to kiss your jaw, feeling around for your dick. "like this?"

"George," you sound urgent, until he squeezes right around the head, and you forget what you were saying. you're pretty fucking close to forgetting who you are entirely.

he sits up on top of you, grinning. "love the way you say my name, sir."

that name. all it takes is the way he says that fucking name and you're ready to go again. you flip the two of you over, so that you're towering over him instead. "you still didn't. fucking. ask me. if you could come."

he giggles, a little crazed. he hooks his arms around his knees, hugging them to his chest.. "so what? so what? you gonna fuck me 'till I behave?"

"yes," you reach down, "I think I will." and you pull out the butt plug he (probably forgot he) had in all day.

"fuck—" he sobs. you watch his dick bob. precome drips into a pool on his stomach. "—green—green—so fucking green."

you're still sensitive from coming twice—you're pretty sure he is too. you lean down to give him a kiss, you moan into each other's mouths. he tastes like strawberries and his and your come. it is a little gross, you admit. but he's so tight and so fucking cute that you can't bring yourself to care. you part, and there's a line of salvia connecting the two of you.

"wait—" you say, but it comes out like a growl. "roll over."

he gets on his hands and knees, reaching back and spreading himself open for you. fuck.

you fuck him like that, holding the leash tight, loving the way he arches his back into the bed. the bell on his collar jingles incessantly.

you spank him, one last time.

"th-that's twenty-f-five—oh, fuck, sir," he growls, clinging on to the blankets for dear life.

you pin one of his hands in place and reach down to touch him. he starts laughing again.

"mmmmmmay I please come, sir? I—fuck—I'm so close, soclosesoclose," his breath stutters, you can hear the breaks in his voice. he buries his face in the blankets.

I'm close, you think, but the words don't make it out. "you're so good—you're so fucking good—come for me—fuck, come for me."

—

you're a mess. there's some drying solution of come and lube on your stomach. not to mention whatever the fuck's going on with your hair. your robe is discarded haphazardly on the floor. you think you've got a hickey, but you can't remember where.

actually, you're both a mess. he's also covered in come, sweat, and lube. he's got a red ring around his neck where you pulled him by the leash a little too hard. he's just covered in bruises. he clings to your arm, still fast asleep. you both passed out pretty quickly after…whatever that was, but you got back up a couple hours later. it doesn't look like he did, though.

actually, your whole bedroom is a mess. a blanket or two ended up discarded on the floor. there's an empty bottle of edible lube somewhere around here. your kitty lingerie set, still dirty, somehow ended up hanging in the closet. the first time you woke up you were both cuddling with a butt plug that you misplaced in the heat of the moment.

you don't think you've ever seen him like that. you can't even put it into words. you've never spanked him. he's never called you sir. you've never come in his mouth. he's never…begged for you like that before. you've never been so exhausted after coming that you both just, just fainted.

you feel lightheaded, and dead tired. you know you both must have gotten back up and gone at it at least a couple more times, but it's blurry, you can't remember. all you know is your vibrator's missing, and you feel…unusually empty, like you do the morning-after getting railed a little too hard.

last night…what the fuck happened last night?

you contemplate getting up, slipping your arm out of his embrace, pulling the covers back up around him, leaving to make breakfast. you're kind of disgusting, several hours after sex without cleaning up properly. you want to get yourselves some washcloths, maybe take shower together, or run him a bath. you know he's gotta be way more sore than you are.

you catch yourself staring, lost in thought; he just looks too cute when he's very clearly roughed up, but still sleeping soundly. and with the way he wanted…the way he needed you yesterday, you don't think he would want to wake up alone.

maybe it's okay if we sleep in a little longer.

you stroke his hair and whisper, "happy birthday, baby boy."

—

edited 14 March 2021

#limeade-zest #georgenotfound x reader #george x reader #george davidson x reader

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clevermonkey93 · 3 years

Text

Mr Frilly part 2

Part 1

Jaskier makes pizza with Geralt and Ciri. It’s cute and fluffy. Oh and they flirt.

also on ao3

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Jaskier wasn’t nervous. He absolutely wasn’t nervous. Except he was. He totally was because he had a dinner date – was it even a date? It’s just dinner, come on Jask – with a gorgeous hunk of a complete dork of a dad that was utterly besotted with his angelic little gremlin. And Jaskier had just met him. Just met Geralt and Ciri and already he was determined not to blow it. Frankly, Jaskier didn’t care if Geralt wasn’t interested – he's probably ten years older than me, he’s got a kid, he might be straight-straight not just kinda straight – but he so desperately wanted to spend more time with them both and get to know them.

God knows he could use some more friends. Valdo seemed to have left their relationship with all their mutual friends, but I suppose that’s what happens when you date a guy from university for four years and just make friends with all his music friends and –

Jaskier wanted so badly to get this right.

Which is why he stood outside the Rivia house – a beautiful old tall town house which Jaskier would have bet has one of those gorgeous long winding gardens – with a distinctly not-rubbish film and some flowers. A simple but beautiful bunch of wildflowers that Jaskier had stared at for at least fifteen minutes at the shop after he’d left Geralt and Ciri in confectionary. He’d decided to risk it but they’re white and delicate so if he's read the vibe completely wrong they’re obviously for Ciri.

He knocked. Geralt said not to ring the doorbell because next door has a baby.

Oh God I should have changed. Why am I still wearing my shopping clothes and this dumb scarf –

“Hey, Jaskier.”

Jaskier looked up to see Geralt at the doorway, long white hair tied up now and an apron at his waist – oh man why is that sexy?

He had a flour smudge on his cheek and his shirt was covered in flecks. Jaskier was about to tease him and ask why he’s only got a tiny apron when he's wearing a black shirt when he heard footsteps behind the man.

“Mr Frilly!” Ciri cheered as she joined them in the doorway. She was wearing a full-size apron which on a child should look utterly ridiculous but she was also wearing an expression that said she was in charge.

“Already started on dinner I see!” Jaskier said with a grin.

Geralt looked down at his shirt and gave a very sweet shrug before standing to the side and gesturing for Jaskier to join them inside.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he offered. Ciri had already bounded back down the hallway so Jaskier shuffled in and started to wiggle his shoes off with his feet. This inadvertently drew attention to the flowers in his hand.

“Uh, I brought these,” Jaskier started, studying Geralt’s face carefully. Beneath the white smudge of flour there was a distinct pink blush. He didn’t think Geralt looked uncomfortable but oh God it’s so hard to tell. “I brought these.” He repeated quietly.

Jaskier inched the flowers forward to Geralt and thank God he took them. Geralt smiled. No doubt there, that was a proper nice smile.

“Thank you, Jaskier,” he said softly. Jaskier felt Geralt's hand on his shoulder and he was about to say something when –

“Daddy, the dough has gotten SO big!”

Jaskier and Geralt shared a little laugh before Geralt lead him further into the house.

The kitchen was in surprising order considering the state of the chefs, and Jaskier and Geralt walked in to find Ciri proudly holding up a bowl of proofing dough.

“I’ll show you how to make a base,” Ciri said excitedly.

“Wash your hands, Ciri,” Geralt reminded her and Jaskier also took his turn at the sink. As he dried his hands, we watched Geralt dig around a cupboard for a vase, as though he hadn’t used one in a long time, before carefully arranging the flowers to sit in the middle of the kitchen table.

It was a wonderfully sweet evening. Jaskier and Ciri both managed to get covered in flour as they tried to shape pizza crusts while Geralt seemed to be able to do it blind and helping them at the same time.

Jaskier had figured they’d be using tomato puree (he won’t admit to how many years at university he’d lived on pasta and tomato puree) but Geralt brought over a pan of homemade tomato sauce that smelled so good. Even better was the proud little smile he made when Jaskier told him how good it smelled. Best yet was the blush and sudden inhale Geralt didn’t manage to hide when Jaskier couldn’t resist sticking a finger in to try a lick.

“Toppings!” Ciri exclaimed as she carried what Jaskier assumed was a stack of everything from the fridge. Cheese quickly went absolutely everywhere as they each assembled a pizza and it turned out the pair had a tradition of making an extra Frankenstein pizza with every topping.

They loaded them into the oven – “Daddy's going to build a pizza oven in the garden next spring,” Ciri excitedly informed Jaskier. “But they’re still good in the oven.”

Geralt started to clear up while the pizzas cooked, and Ciri immediately vanished. Jaskier stood next to him at the sink to dry things up.

“Thank you for asking me over,” Jaskier said, even though it was clearly Ciri that asked. “I'm really glad I’m here.”

Geralt Hmmed at that, and Jaskier had started to notice it might be his default setting but it sounded like a happy Hmm at least. “What would your Saturday night have been otherwise?” Geralt asked.

“Oh, um,” Jaskier hesitated and dammit he knew he was blushing but he’s going to think I'm so naive and just struggling and – “Well, I’m usually performing at some venue or another, if I’ve managed to get any bookings.” He looked over at Geralt and he seemed interested, not like he suddenly regretted inviting a hipster over, so, “I sing and, uh, play guitar. Among other things.”

Geralt nodded, and definitely didn’t look at Jaskier's mouth when he bit his lip nervously, except Jaskier definitely saw his eyes dart down.

Jaskier shrugged. “But nobody knows me around here. Not yet anyway,” Jaskier laughed quietly. “I’m on at the open mic night this week at Posada's –”

“The live night at The Mandrake is pretty good,” Geralt cut in. Jaskier couldn’t have contained his smile even if he’d tried. Honestly, so many people laughed at him for still trying and –

Breathe, Jask.

“Yeah? What kind of music do they usually have? I mean, well, a lot of my covers usually go down really well, but I also play a lot of my own songs,” Jaskier asked as he dried up the last bowl. Damn it, he was starting to ramble. But he looked over again at Geralt and the man was nodding, and Jaskier thought he might have Hmmed again. Silently though. Jaskier got a little distracted again watching Geralt dry his hands on Jaskier's dish towel and then start to put things away.

“Hmm? What sort of things do you write?” Geralt finally asked, and he definitely stood closer than he needed to as he reached around Jaskier to pick crockery up from the counter.

Jaskier was absolutely not about to reply something like meeting hot dads at the supermarket when the oven timer beeped loudly.

“Pizza!!”

Jaskier jumped a little at Ciri's sudden – immediate – reappearance and although he had no real reason to blush, his cheeks felt like they were on fire.

Geralt laughed ever so quietly. Jaskier eyed him carefully as the man's mouth turned up in the slightest smirk. Oh, Geralt was teasing him.

Jaskier flicked the dish towel at Geralt before joining Ciri at the oven, taking the mitts from her before she could try to hurt herself carrying too many hot pizzas. They took the pizzas to the lounge and before Jaskier could worry about where he should sit, Ciri sat him in the middle of the sofa because that’s where guests sit, Mr. Frilly.

“What film are we watching?” Ciri asked, sat on the floor in front of the telly to get to the DVD player.

“Oh!” Jaskier popped up again and went to his bag. “Have you guys seen The Princess Bride?”

Ciri had not and Gert agreed it was a not-rubbish film. Not that Jaskier would have judged him too harshly if he didn’t liked his favourite film.

He sat between Geralt and Ciri as they ate pizza, and Jaskier definitely agreed it was at least the best pizza in town and quite frankly until he tried ‘Papa Vesemir's’ pizza, he was willing to say best ever. They watched the film, Geralt and Jaskier both half watching Ciri watch it for the first time. When Geralt took his hair out from its bun, Jaskier couldn’t help but reach over to tuck a stray lock behind his ear before Geralt tied half of it back anyway.

Away from the warm kitchen, it cooled down quickly in the lounge so Geralt pulled the throw blanket over them from the back of the sofa. He laughed softly when Jaskier stole the opportunity to tuck in closer as his arms were raised, and then laughed properly when Ciri used Jaskier's distraction to steal his frilly scarf.

Jaskier must have dozed off towards the end of the film because he woke up to Geralt carefully easing him up from leaning against his chest as the credits rolled. “Just putting Ciri to bed.”

Ah, yes, parenting to be done. Jaskier blinked himself awake somewhat while Geralt followed Ciri upstairs. As he listened to muffled arguments about whether she'd brushed her teeth for long enough and how many stories she needed before sleep, Jaskier took their cleared plates back to the kitchen.

He was putting the last of the clean dishes away when Geralt reappeared.

“The princess sleeps?” Jaskier asked softly. Geralt Hmmed at him, leaning against the door frame in a way that looked far too good for him to not be aware.

“Are you awake now?” Geralt teased, and Jaskier admirably resisted sticking his tongue out. Really though, he only resisted because he finally closed the distance between them and leaned up, hopeful, towards Geralt. He was pretty sure, but Oh god what if he really had misread things –

Geralt kissed him. He kissed him softly, steadily and with a firm hand holding Jaskier's hip to his waist.

Jaskier sighed, only loud enough for Geralt to just hear. “Yeah, I'm awake.”

#I wrote a thing #geraskier #geraskier fanfic #witcher fanfic #geraskier modern au #single dad geralt #jaskier has the hots for single dad geralt #geraskier being cute #geraskier snuggles #ciri is the sweetest angel gremlin #all fluff no plot

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thegreymoon · 3 years

Text

Word of Honor

Poor Heartless Amethyst Fiend 😢

Murder and betrayal are hard when they love you so much and you learned to love them too 💔

***

I love these two 😂

***

LMAO, look at him causing a mess and then sitting back to enjoy the show 😂

***

Uh-oh, boyfriend is mad 😅

***

Eh?

This doesn’t sound right 🤔 How much does A-Xu know about WKX anyway? He knows that he wants Gao Chong dead and the Jianghu dissolved into chaos. But does he know he’s a Ghost? Much less Ghost chief?

***

Careful, king, your insanity is showing 😬

***

Oh, shit, no! 😭

Why do I always underestimate how brutal this show is going to get 😭 I thought he was going to get knocked about a bit so that we can mock him for getting beaten up by two senior citizens, but no, it had to be blood!

***

Wait... this loser actually came through for her?

I still don’t trust him as far as I can throw him 😠 Waiting for him to turn again.

***

Super creepy.

He looks like he and Chucky would be best friends 👇👇

***

Oh, yes, become a monk and leave the sect in the hands of two children that are surrounded by vipers inside and out 🙄

Fantastic plan! What could possibly go wrong?

***

God, I hope at least some of those kegs are filled with gunpowder instead of wine 🙄🙄

There has been entirely too much talking and talking and talking in this episode and not enough fighting!

***

Well. This looks unhygienic and like a good way to obtain blood poisoning and disease 😬

***

OMG, Lao Wen, I’ve been yelling the same thing at my computer for the past 20 minutes! 😭😭

WE ARE ON THE SAME PAGE HERE!! PLEASE FIGHT ALREADY!!

***

LMAO, I love him 😂

***

OMFG, please stop breaking up already 😫

Must we go through this every two episodes? 😭

***

Mind control??

Interesting 🤔🤔

***

Oh, so the Ghost Valley and Scorpions are collaborating!

But it is the traitor Ghost, so not really? 🤔 Anyway, her disguise is laughable.

She should take classes from the rival Ghost ladies. I could paint on a better moustache than this!

***

Well, shit.

This was brutal.

***

I feel sorry for him.

I actually believe him that he is trying to do the right thing. IDK, I have nothing to base this on except for that one scene when he paid respects to his old friends and cried in front of their memorial tablets. Also, I feel like it would be too easy if WKX was to be entirely right about him being evil, plus I’m not even half-way through this show and plots need to be messy.

***

Fighting! Finally!

***

Oh, cutie, you are going to be so wrong, so many times! Listen to A-Xu! He seems to be way more level-headed than you!

Anyway, it’s about time his crazy ass got taken down a peg or two.

***

Ahahahaha, smack him, A-Xu!! 🤗🤗

I hate him so much. I know he hasn’t really done anything yet, but just look at his stupid moustache 🤢 He’s so smackable! Also, he betrayed Aunt Luo so he can just die. I bet he’s collaborating with the Scorpions and the the traitor Ghost to discredit Gao Cheng. Shen Shen is a jackass, but at least he seems honestly devoted to First Brother. This one is so fucking slimy.

***

Oh, thank fuck.

Anyway, this has got to be some record for the shortest breakup in history.

***

LMAO, look at his stupid loser face 😂😂 Flee, Chengling! Flee!

Suffer, asshole! He 100% had something to do with this whole mess. But why is everyone after Chengling now? He no longer has the Glazed Armour piece with him 🤔

***

OK, don’t judge, don’t judge, but this guy is hot 🔥🔥

***

Actually, I take that back, there is nothing to judge, he’s very, very attractive and I have excellent taste 🔥🔥🔥

***

And down comes the monument.

***

Eh. There goes my favourite colourful villain 🙁

***

What wealth? Didn’t your sorry ass admit to squandering it all away?

***

WHAT?? DA GE, WHY??

It’s the other one! You should kill the other one!! 😭😭

***

LMAO, look at their stupid evil faces!

Anyway, what are the odds that he destroyed the real Glazed Armour when WKX made dozens of fake pieces that are floating all over the Jianghu? My bet is on zero.

***

What a horrible way to kill yourself 🙁

This show just won’t let me thirst in peace 😠😠

***

Anyway, you have got to love how shocked and dismayed he always looks when his chaotic schemes end up hurting the wrong people 😕

Did he learn anything when the senior citizen poly alliance ended up dead because of him? Of course not! We had to do a repeat. He deserves to have A-Xu yell at him a bit.

***

Of course 🙄🙄

***

When he’s a bloodthirsty dumbass, but he’s sad and you love him anyway 🙄

***

LMAO, don’t hold back, A-Xu! Tell him what you really think! 😂

***

Villain confirmed!

Thank you for validating me, A-Xu! He’s been giving off shady vibes from the very beginning!

***

LMAO, look at him, back on his bullshit already 🙄

Cutie, haven’t you had enough?

***

That’s right, A-Xu! He more than deserves the scolding!!

***

Die. 💀💀

I can excuse being a slimy sleaze ball but I draw the line at his stupid cartoon villain face with his stupid villain moustache 🤢

Scorpion, baby, I don’t know what your damage is, but please do better!

***

LMAO, Ye Baiyi is a gift that keeps on giving 😂😂

***

LMAO, EXCUSE ME??

YOUR CHILD, LAO WEN?? 🧐🧐

***

Great minds think alike 😂😂

I am living for the enmity between YBY and WKX 😂😂 Also, poor A-Xu, he now has two gremlins to defuse 😂😂

***

Wait, he’s alive?

I thought Gao Chong killed him??

***

So, is Scorpion and illegitimate son he’s manipulating into killing for him or something? 🤔

Is this a Meng Yao situation? Am I getting this right? If so, I’m hoping for a similar outcome 💀💀 Go on, Scorpion, do it! End him and make me proud!!

#word of honor #woh spoilers #woh ep15 #woh ep16

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inkribbon796 · 3 years

Text

Not So Baby Brother

Summary: Tubbo is trying desperately to bury his past, if only everyone around him wasn’t interested in digging back up in front of him.

A/N: Warning for hinted child abuse and endangerment. Both to Tubbo, Puffy, Schlatt, and to Michael. I try to keep the majority of it off screen or undetailed but it’s still there. These events coupled with his time with the SMP makes Tubbo in this AU who he is in the present. Which is emotionally withdrawn and prone to pushing people away.

Tubbo in the first flashback was about four, while Schlatt and Puffy were about 10.

~::~ 13 Years Ago ~::~

Tubbo was in his bed, hiding under the covers, hands over his ears as he heard the arguing and smashing of things across the house. The little four year old was so scared and he didn’t know what to do.

Then his door opened and Tubbo hiccuped in fear. He tried to stay quiet and still, hoping that if he did the person would just leave him alone.

A hand came down where his shoulder was.

Tubbo flinched.

“Tubster? You awake?”

The little boy let out a breath of relief, it was his big brother. Still scared, Tubbo peeked his head out from underneath the covers to see both his siblings there: Schlatt and Puffy.

Schlatt looked bad but he still smiled at Tubbo. “Hey don’t cry, c’mere[1].”

Tubbo was already crawling his way over to Schlatt and crying, and he couldn’t stop.

“C’mon,[2] you know what he’s gonna[3] do if he catches you crying,” Schlatt tried to calm him down.

Puffy came to sit next to them, her own eyes wet. Schlatt slightly rocked Tubbo to try and comfort him.

“Hey, T-Man,” Schlatt tried to soothe him. “Kinda[4] loud isn’t it?”

“We’ve got you,” Schlatt held Tubbo tightly, the younger brother still shaking and sobbing. “I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”

Tubbo nodded his head, clutching onto his brother. A little embrace of safety for a young boy whose life was so turbulent and scary. Tonight nothing would hurt, and that was what mattered to the young boy.

~::~ Present Day ~::~

“I was just thinking about it Tubbo . . . we like to have fun.”

“Schlatt, I can’t get out.”

“I know what you’ve been up to.”

“Uh, what have I been up to?”

“Everyone knows what you’ve been up to!”

“Do you know what we do to traitors, Tubbo?”

“. . . No?”

“Techno, you wanna come up here for a second?”

“Let’s just send a message, real quick.”

“Techno, if you would be so kind.”

“Murder him right now, on this fucking stage, and make it hurt!”

“Tubbo, I’m sorry, I’ll make it quick.”

“Techno, what the hell!”

“Wilbur!”

Tubbo shot up in bed, his eyes wild and heart racing. He was disoriented at first, expecting himself to be in some hole somewhere, still in pain after pulling himself together from a discorporation and desperate to escape before Schlatt found him again.

Tubbo surged out of bed, trying to get away.

Then he heard ruffling behind him and disgruntled child sobs.

And Tubbo came back to himself, he looked back to see Michael crying and Ranboo sitting up in his own bed. Tubbo mentally chastised himself.

“Mikey? Daddy’s sorry, did I wake you up?” Tubbo walked back to his bed, his pace quickening when Michael reached up and made grabby hands towards Tubbo.

Ranboo was already getting out of his bed and walking over to them. He looked like he was going to collapse in a heap of limbs on the floor. “Hmmm,” Ranboo hummed.

The two-toned teen stopped right outside the bed and gestured with his tail, “Can I join?”

Tubbo scooted over a bit, and Ranboo sat down as Tubbo tried to rock and soothe their adopted son. Ranboo making little cooing and odd vwoop noises, while Tubbo was humming some lullaby, that helped Michael fall back asleep with the familiarity.

A little family the two teens had carved for themselves.

Tubbo and Ranboo had found the small boy thrown away by some demon hunter as a “disappointing failure” and after Tubbo left Ranboo to tend to the scared and crying boy, Tubbo went to “fetch the adoption papers” and the mage was never seen again. Ranboo didn’t question what Tubbo had done but they took the boy, bundled him up in Tubbo’s jacket and got the boy some food before taking him into the Bee ‘n Boo before spending the next couple hours finishing the attic store room and Ranboo used their downstairs storage for all the establishment’s storage.

That day Ranboo busied himself around their bed and breakfast as Tubbo kept the boy entertained and fed. Michael immediately bonded with Tubbo, and Ranboo found himself falling in love with the boy as well.

The attic was immediately barred from all entry that wasn’t either of the owners. Tubbo made the announcement and was very firm. Beforehand it was frequently used as a temporary living space for Ranboo and Tubbo and they just didn’t want anyone in their personal space anymore.

Which was true but now Michael was there and Tubbo desperately didn’t want people like Quackity and Techno to find out about Michael quite yet. The boy had been through enough and . . . Tubbo wanted a little slice of peace.

He didn’t think that was too much to ask.

Right?

And it certainly didn’t help that bonds and possessions were treated like weaknesses to be exploited and used as currency. Sapnap and Dream had long since set a precedent for that.

So as Tubbo sat in the dark attic bedroom, holding his son in his arms, he pushed down his fear and focused on Michael, who needed him right now.

Soon the little boy was back asleep, tucked back into bed, and Tubbo threw up his arms. He got up because, after his nightmare, there was no way he was getting back to sleep.

So Tubbo changed into his suit and made sure he wasn’t wearing his horns before he left to go down to the staff lounge for a coffee.

“Tubs,” Ranboo called out, shifting in his suit and looking human. “You okay?”

“Yeah, go back ta[5] bed, bossman,” Tubbo dismissed.

“You sure, you’ve got a big day, and we got a lot to do here,” Ranboo looked uneasy.

Tubbo didn’t trust his voice at first, but when he did he told him, “Go back ta[5] bed. I’m grabbing a coffee.”

“Oh, okay,” Ranboo looked away and slowly went back into the room. Tubbo knew he wasn’t going to go back to sleep. But at least it gave Tubbo time to clear his head.

After three coffees, four hours of paperwork, and bullshiting around with Tommy for a bit; Tubbo was overjoyed to put on his Bomble Bee costume and start running around town with Tommy like a maniac.

It was freeing, the suit went on and he wasn’t Tubbo anymore. He was free.

Logic and Jackie were less than enthused to find them by themselves, and Tubbo didn’t appreciate the babysitter, but at least Logan didn’t talk down to Tubbo during it.

They went on a patrol around Brighton, and they were halfway through when Logan brought something up, “You have a sister?”

Tubbo flipped up his visor to glare at Logan, “Thought we agreed family wasn’t shit?”

“There was no agreement on that matter, that was merely a comment you made,” Logic sighed. “If you feel unsafe around your blood related family that is one thing, but demon magic or not you are still underage and the Coalition is bound to follow the law as far as it is actually protecting people.”

“I legally emancipated,” Tubbo countered, flicking his visor back down. “Tommy’s an idiot who doesn’t know how ta[5] do shit. I don’t need anyone ta[5] sign anything fer[6] me.”

“Do you have copies of those legal documents?” Logan asked.

“Yeah, at the BnB,” Tubbo told him. “You wanna pop on over?”[7]

“There’s no rush at the moment, you can email me those tonight when you get home,” Logan offered Tubbo an out. “However, I would like to know the nature of your relationship with your family. You don’t need to go into detail, I trust you had your reasons for emancipation if that was the route you chose to follow.”

“Don’t talk with my parents, if you can call ‘em[8] that, and I haven’t fer[6] years, I only really talk ta[5] my older sister?” Tubbo told him. “She lives in Gainesville with her girlfriend.”

“Are you on good terms with her?” Logan asked. “I wouldn’t want you in communication with someone who is hostile emotionally or physically to you or your family.”

“Nah, she’s alright, she’s part ‘a[9] the Server though, you wanna[10] meet her?” Tubbo smiled.

Logan thought on that, “We might want to send some kind of warning if we go over. Last I checked, several of them had sent me death threats. Does your sister know you’re working with us?”

“Oh yeah,” Tubbo lifted himself up with his bumble bee wings, looking quite proud of himself. “I got several pissed off texts from some ‘a[9] the guys after they saw me an’[11] Big Man on the news. It was great, Quackity screamed at me fer[6] at least five minutes.”

“Are you certain you will be safe when you visit your sister?” Logan asked again.

“Oh yeah,” Tubbo promised. “Come on.”

The logical Side continued to ask questions, letting Tubbo use his phone to send a supervised text to his sister: Puffy. Then they started making their way over.

When they got to the condo Puffy lived at, Tubbo didn’t even knock. In fact he practically kicked the door open.

“Puffy!” Tubbo cupped his hands over his ears and called into the townhouse, calling out at the top of his lungs. “You fuckin’[12] Niki in here?”

“Fuck you, Tubbo! You little gremlin piece ‘a[9] shit!” Someone shouted from upstairs.

Tubbo chuckled and announced loudly, “I bought company.”

“Hide the good kush[13]!” Someone else yelled and Tubbo laughed even more.

“Hey Hannah,” Tubbo greeted as he walked in and motioned for Logan to follow him. “Alyssa in?”

“Don’t care,” Hannah was on her phone, sitting in an armchair. “She’s probably off with Callahan.”

“Yeah, prolly[14],” Tubbo replied. He started walking towards the kitchen, he quietly motioned for Logan to follow him.

Tubbo immediately went for the fridge, leaving Logan to just look around the little space. It was obviously lived in, and on the far wall were some pictures of several women with various people Logan recognized as being from the Server. But there was one almost hidden, almost completely tucked behind a bowl full of different colored rocks. It was a small framed picture in the corner of the kitchen, almost hidden from view, of a much younger Tubbo surrounded by some people that Logan didn’t recognize.

Logan didn’t have long to inspect the photos and start making inferences that he would most likely never ask, because someone stomped into the kitchen.

She had fluffy hair that was a chestnut brown on one side, and white on the other. Flecks of rainbow hairs interspersed on both halves. She was one of the people in the picture, Logan quickly realized. She resembled Tubbo a little bit, and on prolonged examination, Logan noticed that her fluffy hair was hiding a set of thick, curled ram horns. The kind that looked capable of crushing someone’s skull if they made an impact.

Logan figured that Tubbo’s would probably look like that in a couple years, just a bit more like a goat’s.

Tubbo glanced at her before asking, “Where are those rad fuckin’ ice lollies yeh bought?”[15]

“You took them last week for Michael,” Puffy snapped.

“Ohhh, yeah, he loved those,” Tubbo smiled, closing the freezer. He gave her a smug look. “So you didn’t buy more then?”

“No,” she gave him the stink eye. Then she glanced at Logan. “Who’s your friend?”

“Pardon me,” Logan spoke up. “My name is Logic, from the Coalition, I believe I texted you a little bit ago.”

“Yeah, I did get something,” Puffy agreed hesitantly. “Who’s this?”

“My mentor,” Tubbo pointed at Logic as he closed the fridge

“Huhhh,” Puffy hummed. “Hey, Tubbo, why don’t you go into the next room and watch some Adventure Time?”

“Don’t kill him,” Tubbo told her pointedly.

“And take that fight from Bad and Big Q, are you insane?” Puffy told him. “Oh, wait, you build bombs, of course you are.”

Tubbo held up two fingers, his middle and index, and flipped her off before walking off.

“You asshole!” Puffy told him and Tubbo was already cackling in laughter. When he’d completely turned his back, Puffy rolled her eyes and smiled. “Ehhh, he’s a good kid.

“He is,” Logan agreed, “Tubbo is intelligent and resourceful. Even if he is threatening to set off explosives under the guise of experimentation.”

“Yep, that’s Tubs alright,” Puffy chuckled. “He always liked figuring out how stuff worked, even as a little kid. He’s like a baby mad scientist.”

“Excuse you, I am a full blown mad scientist, I e’en[16] have the arrest record ta[5] prove it!” Tubbo boasted from the other room.

“From what Tubbo has told me, you seem to approve of him working with us,” Logan commented.

“Hell yeah,” Puffy told him, leaning against the counter as she watched him. “Between Ranboo, the Bee ‘n Boo, and working with you guys; Tubbo’s happier than I’ve seen him in a while.”

“That is good,” Logan agreed. “Tubbo’s mental and physical well-being is of primary importance.”

“You talk like a textbook, you sure you’re not a robot?” Puffy asked.

“I do not classify as an inorganic being,” Logan answered.

“Sure you don’t,” Puffy smiled. “So what brings you to the neighborhood? I’m guessing you didn’t come over just to stand in our kitchen and look like Apple’s version of Robocop?”

“No, that’s not the reason I came to visit,” Logan agreed. “The Coalition prefers, if possible, to have a good working relationship with the families of our apprentices. So that in the case of emergencies they can be notified. While I am glad you and Tubbo seem to have a positive relationship, the more important question is are there any safety risks that any other members of your family would pose to Tubbo or his family?”

Puffy looked uneasy, “What has he told you?”

“Not much,” the logical Side admitted. “I haven’t known him for long enough, but when I asked him about his extraneous family, Tubbo mentioned he was emancipated, and that he was not in communication with his parents. He only mentioned you, and I have seen his son once.”

“We had an older brother,” Puffy frowned, looking over at the half-hidden picture. “Started turning into a demon around the same time as Tubbo and I, and he was . . .”

She looked down, “Well he was the type of demon you keep your kids away from, and I wasn’t there to keep my eyes on them.”

“That must have been a difficult experience for everyone,” Logan tried to offer his sympathies.

Puffy looked in the direction of the hidden picture, “I should have been there, it would have never happened if Phil and I had been there to stop them. But the real problem is Dream has something that can apparently restore a demon. I don’t know how thorough it is, or if it’s just something he tells Tommy and the others to make them afraid of what he can do. But he apparently needs some of the original demon’s essence or aura and both Schlatt and Will left those behind. Wilbur left Ghostbur behind, and Quackity cremated everything but Schlatt’s heart and five of his bones. Meaning if Dream gets his hands on even one of those bones then he could, if he does have that power, bring Schlatt back any time he wanted. And I’d ask you to get those bones from Quackity and Dream but that means going into the Server and there’s no way Dream would allow you in. Just, if Wilbur and Schlatt come back, promise me you’ll keep those three safe?”

“With my life,” Logan promised. “The death and manipulation of children are unacceptable.”

Puffy smiled, a breathy little snort coming from her, “You know, I always heard that legates were buttfuck insane. Glad to know you’re not.”

“I am not in the Coalition for fame and vainglory. Others might be, but I strive to make the world a better place, and such can only happen through the acquisition of knowledge and reason over fear. Of fact over fiction. Tubbo is, despite his demon aura and insistence to the contrary, still a child. And regardless of all of that he is a person who deserves to be in a safe and loving environment.”

“Yeah the Server’s never been that kind to minors,” Puffy scoffed. “It’s kinda[4] like taking a box of kittens and turning them into robotic war machines. Tubbo and Purpled just took to it better than the others.”

“How many minors are in the Server still?” Logan was concerned. The trio the heroes were dealing with already had their pasts marred by trauma and death, he’d never considered there were others still trapped in the same unsafe environment.

“You have three,” Puffy began counting. “Quackity still has Purpled and Fundy in Las Nevadas so they’re doing slightly better than they were before when they were working directly under Dream. You guys also got Jack, who just turned nineteen. But I would not trust Jack alone with Tommy, he threatened to kill him several times.”

“Thank you for the information,” Logan told her. “Anything else you can tell me about the other two minors?”

“So, Purpled is from a league of assassins and he loves money too much to defect,” Puffy dismissed. “You’d need to start paying him the big bucks to make him switch sides and Quackity already gave a good price. While Dream is paying his older brother through the nose to keep him out of Quackity’s hands as well. Punz is older than me though, so if Purpled went anywhere else it would be back with him. But Fundy is a different story. He’s Wilbur’s spawnling and Fundy is kinda[4] a basket case already. If you can get him away from Quackity, good, but I don’t imagine he’d go all that easily and Big Q’s only gonna[3] clamp down harder on him. Fundy and Tubbo were kinda[4] the server mascots back in the day since they were the babies of the group.”

“Everyone loved Tubbo,” Puffy smiled fondly before frowning sadly. “But that’s not the case anymore. He’s made himself a lot of enemies.”

“I see, thank you, I will relay the message to the others and we’ll do what we can for them,” Logan promised.

Puffy came off of the counter. “Thanks, no one in the Server really thought twice about those kids, they kinda[4] just tossed ‘em[8] around and personally I’m really glad you got the ones you do out of there. All three of ‘em[8] have been through enough.”

Then she went to poke her head out of the kitchen. “Tubbo, take yer friend and get out of my house, I don’t want you in here while we’re out.”

“Sure,” Tubbo kicked his feet up and already started for the front door. “Whate’er, go back ta snoggin’ yer girlfriend, I’ve got shit ta blow up.”[17]

And he was out, leaving Logan to immediately rush off after him, which got both of them out of the condo. Puffy watching them with a smile.

Tubbo, as it turns out, did not make good on his explosion test threats, he continued on his patrol, and then went back home to the Bee ‘n Boo. Walking in with a suit and his usual business-friendly smile. Logan, meanwhile, returned to the base to communicate with, especially Ethan, about what he had heard from Tubbo’s sister.

To clear his mind, Tubbo immediately went into his apiary to make sure his bees were alright. Which is exactly where Ranboo found Tubbo.

“Hey, Tubs,” Ranboo smiled and Tubbo managed a small smile back.

“Hey, bossman,” Tubbo was looking at him through the fringe of his hair, “how have things been?”

“Been alright,” Ranboo sat next to Tubbo, crossing his legs as he sat down. “You feeling better?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Tubbo denied, trying to ignore what had happened in the morning.

“Because,” Ranboo mentally halted, “this morning you screamed and you looked really scared, and I didn’t know how to help.”

“C’mon,[2] big man, I’m fine,” Tubbo lied. “E’eryone[18] has the occasional nightmares, I was just jumpy. Happens ta[5] e’eryone[18].”

“Y—” Ranboo looked away. “Yeah, I guess, but you know you can talk to me? Right?”

“Yeah, of course, same fer[6] you,” Tubbo told him, both teens knowing that they kept secrets from each other.

“I’m thinking,” Tubbo redirected, “pizza fer dinner. Wanna order somethin’?”[19]

“Sure, yeah,” Ranboo agreed and after Tubbo finished caring for the apiary, and the pizza was delivered, they both retired to their dwelling and Michael was very happy to settle down with both his dads for the night. The little boy stuffing his face with pizza, and trying to feed some to his stuffed toy chicken. The three of them watched cartoons until Michael fell asleep and Tubbo tucked him into bed.

Tubbo and Ranboo hoped that tomorrow would be a better day for all three of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations:

1. come here

2. come on

3. going to

4. kind of

5. to

6. for

7. You want to head on over?

8. them

9. of

10. want to

11. and

12. fucking

13. weed

14. probably

15. Where are those really fuckin’ good ice lollies [popsicles] you bought?

16. even

17. Whatever, go back to kissing your girlfriend, I’ve got shit to blow up.

18. Everyone

19. pizza for dinner. Want to order something?

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