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#the reader is male but uses gender neutral pronouns
bump1nthen1ght · 2 days
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Between the Neon (Male!Android x AMAB!Reader)
Pairing: AMAB!Reader x Male!Robot
Genre: Sci-fi, CyberPunk, Prostitute!Reader, Fluffy Smut
Word Count: 1714 words
Warnings: Explicit Content Ahead (18+ ONLY)
Summary: After leaving his last appointment completely satisfied, Axel wasted no time in coming back to request more of your services.
Request: Anything with Axel please! (From kinktober)
A/N: Soooo I totally forgot that the original drabble with Axel (Which you can find here) was gender neutral, and didn’t realize until I had fully written out the fic 🤦‍♀️. Soo I decided to write two versions, one with an AFAB!Reader and one with an AMAB!Reader, with the reader still using they/them pronouns. Hope y’all enjoy!
Link to AFAB!Reader is Here!
After many years of working, you’ve grown a good sense for customers; Who will tip well, who’s going to cause problems, and the special few who will become your favorites.
You knew immediately that Axel was going to go in the latter category. But what you hadn’t expected was for him to jump to your #1 patron within a month of your first rendezvous. Man was eager and had some money to spend, that was for sure.
“Hmm, good bot.” Your thumb rubs across his smooth skull-plating, moaning as his synthetic tongue slides around your shaft. His vents exhale hot steam, like a heating pad between your legs. He had gotten that body mod after three sessions together, something to prevent him  from overheating amidst the countless orgasms. The nodes of textured tongue send shivers down your spine, making you sink into your plush work bed. “Fuck, your getting good at this, Axel.”
Axel had learned on his second visit that your cock was his favorite flavor, always begging for a taste at the beginning of every session. He had been slightly clumsy at first, but once he learned your biology, he took it up like a dedicated scholar. You had even caught him looking at extensive diagrams of the human genitalia after one session, making notes on what made you specifically shiver and cum.
“I’m close, baby.” Axel moans into your crotch, face lit in bright blue blush. Machinery whirrs as your thighs press into the sides of his neck, his own personal heaven. Your toes curl behind his neck, orgasm striking quick and hard “Fuck~” You pant, hips jerking and humping into Axel’s jaw, spit and cum running down his chin. He swallows it all up eagerly,always desperate for another taste.
You have to pull him off your cock, slightly overstimulated and eager for the next part of your session. Axel has a stupid wide grin on his face, his digital pupils turned into glitchy hearts.
What a cutie.
You kiss Axel’s cheek as he crawls up your body, letting him snuggle into your neck and hug you with sticky hands.
“I wanna try something new today.” You whisper in his audial port. Axel whimpers.
“Yes p-please.” He lets you pull away from the embrace, obediently following orders to sit on the edge of the bed. Axel is always quick to try new things, desperately excited to explore your body and all its new sensations.
You remember the first time you rode him, how his glitchy voice echoed across your apartment. 
“O-o-oh stars!”
His hands had struggled choosing between gripping your hips and playing with your nipples, watching all of you bounce in his dick. That dilemma was solved when you flipped into reverse cowboy and he was able to palm your jiggling ass cheeks.
“You’re incredible! Incredible!” He had yelped as he overloaded inside you, licking your thighs clean of cum right after. He then spent the next 20 minutes caressing your butt, watching the way it wiggled with every hip movement.
That's what inspired you tonight.
You flip around to your stomach, holding your weight on your elbows and shimmying your hips. Your fingers come down to your ass cheeks and spread them wide open. 
“Come here, baby.”
Axel scrambles up the bed, aching cock in his grip, lemon-lime coolant dripping down the shaft. He’s quick to line up with your hole, but doesn’t sink in just yet. He never does without permission.
Good boy.
“Now put your hands on my hips.” Your voice guides him along, shaky digits glancing across your pelvis. His leaking tip pressed against your entrance, so close to just slipping inside you. Another burst of air comes from his vents.
“Now's the fun part.” Settling into your knees, you throw your ass back onto Axel, cock sliding in like a hot knife through butter. His digits leave indents on your love handles, his voice glitching.
“Fu-uck!” He pants, his eyes going cross from the sudden grip on his dick. Your velvety hole holds him tight, his nodes rubbing as his hips jump a little. You smirk, swiveling your hips.
“You gotta good grip back there?” Your voice purrs, and you take Axel’s lusty moans as a definite ‘yes’. 
Axel’s voice melts into whines as you slide him out till the tip, only to shriek and glitch when you throw your ass back on to him. You give him little time to recover, using his hands for stability to throw it back and over and over onto his cock. Streams of coolant run down his cock and down your balls, sloshing together with skin and wiring.
“Oh, stars and galaxies~” Axel moans, leaning his torso forward to help his balance. “You feel so go-od.” Axel’s tongue lolls out in a pant, more steam pumping from his vents. “That ass.” His voice teeters off, hands wandering down to your jiggling backside.
“You wanna slap it, Axel?” You swivel your hips again, core clenching as you put an extra shimmy in your hips.
“Y-yes. Will that h-hurt you-ungh!” 
Your walls clench onto Axel’s cock, bottom lip bitten between your teeth at the idea.
“No, baby. I want it.”
A mixture between a delighted giggle and a ravenous moan squeal from Axel’s audial ports. One hand moves from your hips to your ass, never leaving the skin. He gives a tentative squeeze, mindful of his robotic strength, before giving you a soft tap. It’s sweet, but you crave more. 
“You can do it harder, Axel. In fact….”
You pause your bouncing, craving to see Axel’s expression. His cheeks grow bright with his coolant, his pupils flickering back and forth between the arch of your back and your face.
“Why’d you stop?”
“Patience, sweet thing.” You grip onto the bedspread below, adjusting your knees upward into proper doggy style. “Here, grab onto my hips again.” Axel follows your instructions dutifully, finding his palace on your pelvis. His plating shudders as you rock forward, pulling his cock out to the tip. Axel rushes to follow, hands still in place, but resists. “Okay, now pull me back. Like I was doing before.”
There’s an audible click as Axel turns his head, slightly confused. But as always he’s an obedient boy, and does as he’s told.
He goes slow, still timid and unsure. But a crackling groan from his chest tells you he’s catching on quickly as he pulls you back onto his cock.
“Ok, now pull out a bit.”
Big globs of coolant drop down your cock and onto Axel’s shaft as he does, another shudder. His digits shake against your skin.
“Now, pull me back and push your hips up.”
Axel increases his pace a bit, impatience finally getting to him, chasing your warmth. A texture head bumps against your prostate, and you make sure to emphasize your moan.
“Again.” 
Axel, ever the fast learner, humps into you again, nodes scraping along your inner walls with a little more force. You bite your lip.
“Again, faster.”
Your right hand spreads forward, knuckles clenching into the fabric. Axel, ever the quick learner, thrusts again with more gusto. Another crackling moan from behind you. He doesn’t wait for your instruction, following the unspoken and humping into you.
“Yes, just like that.”
Axel is quick in finding his rhythm, engines whirring as his hips speed up. Your cheap mattress squeaks, bed frame now hitting the wall as Axel throws his weight into you.
“Oh, yes.” Axel moans, eyes transfixed by you jiggling ass, jiggling because of him.
“Ungh, right there!” Your neck arches backward, mouth open wide with your tongue sticking out. Axel’s head easily finds your prostate with every hit, even as Axel himself grows more frantic. Mechanical parts that you’ve never heard from him before kick into gear, helping him move with more and more force.
“Ooo-oh!” Axel digits grow slick on your sweat, struggling to find a grip. But he doesn’t care, clawing into the fat and chasing the high of your asshole around his cock. Cum and fluids spatter onto your ass cheeks, even reaching your lower back as Axel fucks you hard and fast.
“Slap my ass!”
This time the mix of adrenaline and lust are too much, overloading Axel’s more gentler sensibilities, and he gives you a proper spank. The noise echoes across the room.
“Fuck!” Your hole milks him for all his worth. Axel’s digits rub across the handprint no doubt on your skin, right before slapping the other side just as hard. “Yes! Yes!”
Your headboard crashes into your wall now, shaking the very foundations of your shitty apartment. The gears in Axel’s legs work overtime, and you're sure the only thing that could stop him now would be his own orgasm, not any kind of exhaustion.
Speaking of which-
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. W-where do you want-”
“Inside, creampie me!”
It’s like a password, sending Axel into a whole new mode of fucking. His cockhead pounds the very end of your hole, hands knotting into your ass. You feel a buzzing running up your stomach and down your legs, your cock twitching with beads of precum. Your skin feels like it's on fire.
“So good, so good, so good.” Axel’s voice babbles, no amount of steam from his vents preventing the rising heat in his wiring. “Oh, stars”
An explosion of cum bursts inside of you, filling you up like a sex toy, spurting out of the sides. You reach your high at that moment, toes curling and asshole clenching onto Axel’s cock.
The poor bot nearly collapses after he pulls out, his modesty plate shuddering to close as his temperature warning beep goes off. He falls onto his side, arm thrown over his face. 
It takes you a while to catch your breath, trying to remember the last time a client left you this cock-drunk. Once you do, you sidle up to Axel, enjoying the excess warmth of his body, like a giant heating pad.
“That was….awesome.”
Axel pants, arm slipping under your hips to pull you closer. His system beeps again, no doubt sending him advisories to push your hot, warm-blooded body away. But those are quickly deflected, Axel nuzzling his face into your hair.
Yup, definitely one of your favorites.
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flappingdragon · 2 months
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⚠️NSFW Ahead⚠️
What if MC was an angel but they were also there when Lucifer was an angel?
Starting out, what if MC was really young when their connection to Lucifer first began?
What if at one point MC had to attend an angel meeting bc of their guardian angel and they developed a silly-little-kids-crush on Lucifer the moment they laid eyes on him?
Imagine MC with starry, sparkling eyes while they gawk at how magnificently beautiful he is.
And during the meeting, Lucifer randomly comes up to MC and is like, “And what is your name?”
MC would be so shy bc that’s what little kids are like when their crush pays any attention to them and MC would whisper their name and he’d go, “Oh, really? That’s such a beautiful name.” And makes MC so happy because Lucifer just said he likes their name!
But skip a little into the future where angel MC gets a little older but they get really scared over something and they run into the nearest dark place, which just happened to be the alleyway where Lucifer was walking by.
He sees MC sniffling and gets so worried and approches them calmly then says your name and goes, “Are you alright? Is something the matter?” But MC doesn’t want to talk to him and just positions their body away from Lucifer, getting all defensive and defiant.
Lucifer eventually gets close enough to where he can crouch in front on MC and place his hand on their back, soothing them by rubbing it slowly.
“Can you tell me what happened?” But MC would still refuse to talk and Lucifer would sigh in defeat.
He digs something out of his pocket and presents it to MC and they look at it. With MC’s attention, he says, “This is a magical necklace. See?” And he would make the necklace softly glow with his magic and MC is in awe with it.
He then takes MC’s hand and places the necklace in their palm, closing their hand around it before saying, “If you ever feel scared, hold this necklace right against your chest, and I will always be with you in spirit. No matter what challenges you face, just know that with this necklace, I will never leave your side.”
Then they never saw Lucifer again after that day, but MC has always worn the necklace and never let it out of their sight.
Then fast forward to when the war begins.
MC is older now, about maybe 7000 angel years (looks like about 20-30 human years) and their frantically looking around to see if they can find Lucifer.
They know he’s probably forgotten about them, but that doesn’t mean MC won’t fight along side him.
But MC’s heart is shattered when they see Lucifer is falling from the heavens.
They scream and run towards him but they couldn’t help him. They’re on their knees and they start to cry.
After the war comes to an end, MC is devastated and broken. They’re not in their right mind anymore, with having just witnessed the love of their life slip from their fingers and fall to his death.
MC thinks Lucifer is dead until several thousands of years later, Lucifer’s face shows up in the Celestial Realm once again accompanied by his brothers and the demon kind’s son. But this time his wings are black, he has pointed spirals adjourning his head, and aura is that of a demon.
MC hears wind that Lucifer and his brothers are here as a last resort to restore peace between the Devildom and the Celestial Realm.
So when Lucifer and company enter the main estate of the Celestial Realm, MC waits by patiently until the sun dims down and the doors finally open once more.
MC waits until Lucifer is by himself.
Lucifer is walking into an alleyway when MC walks up behind him. They’re about to grab his shoulder, but Lucifer reacts quickly and pins MC to the wall, his forearm on their chest.
“Who are you?” But MC is too stunned to speak. He asks again and MC snaps out of it.
MC explains everything and Lucifer slowly backs away from MC.
“Show me.” MC looks at him confused. “Show me the necklace. Prove it to me. Prove to me who you say you are.”
And MC shows him the necklace.
Lucifer walks as close as he can and shows his own version of the necklace.
They’re the same shape, same design. A gold heart with a tiny angel feather in the middle, only now, Lucifer’s is black.
Lucifer brings his closer to MC’s and both necklaces start to glow. Lucifer slowly looks up at MC and looks into their eyes for the first time ever since that fateful day, and wraps his arms around their neck, leaning in to kiss them.
MC immediately kisses back and wraps their arms around his waist, pulling him closer.
MC’s heart is pounding, thinking of how long they wanted this day to come and now they finally have it.
Their first kiss is slow and sensual, then they break it to gasp for air. When they share their second kiss, a flame ignites their heart’s desires and they share a passionate and equally lustful hunger for each other, their lips moving fast and sloppy.
By the time they share their third kiss, they’re in MC’s bedroom, Lucifer on his back on MC’s bed.
They both kiss with such veracity as if it would satiate their ever-growing desire for each other.
MC’s hands are focused on removing Lucifer’s clothing, while Lucifer’s are focused on removing MC’s clothing. But when they both are naked and exploring each other’s bodies, they stop moving for a moment to stare into each other’s eyes.
“Are you sure you want this?”
MC kisses Lucifer and preps him with a bottle of lube he had summoned.
Hearing Lucifer moan for the first time only makes MC harder. MC scissors Lucifer open until they think he’s ready and Lucifer hands them the bottle of lube.
MC wastes so time in lathering themself up and inserting themself inside Lucifer.
MC loves the way Lucifer arches his back and clenches the bed sheets.
MC adores the sound of Lucifer’s sounds. They sound so pretty, so perfect, exactly how they imagined them to be.
Then MC starts to move and they don’t stop until the sun brightens again and they both pass out from exhaustion.
It’s only the morning after that Lucifer reveals the truth about the necklace.
“It’s a necklace that ties one soul to another, then their souls form an eternal bond. A bond that can never be broken.”
A Soulmate Bond.
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the-moon-files · 6 months
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Linked Universe Incorrect Quotes (ft. Masc!You)
Your many, many nicknames: Guide, Hero's Guide, Lead, Star (Guiding Star), Princey, Prince
Reader: (he/him)
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(This gif got chosen bc i fully believe they could get goofy enough to act like the monty python campaign sometimes)
Wars, wistfully: I love hearing my Guide shouting at someone else. It makes such a nice change.
You: Listen, listen, the ‘how the fucks’ and 'why are you so dumbs’ don’t matter. All that matters is that I have a magic gun.
Hyrule, looking at your unconscious body: I need a moment alone to heal him.
The Rest of the Chain: Of course, take care of him please.
(leaves)
Hyrule, leaning over you: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not asleep.
You, sitting up: Yeah, no shit.
Sky: Ha! Don't you know the trappers trap can trap the trapper??
Sky: ...I must be losing it, I'm quoting Star.
(dead quiet in camp, everyone knowing the look on your face when you get annoyed at their reckless/self-sacrificing actions)
You: When I die, I want every Link here to lower me into my grave so they can let me down one last time.
(explosion of arguing and several "Hey wait a minute-!"s)
Time, accidentally forgetting never to ask his Guide for advice: If this plan goes down the drain, where should we regroup?
You: The afterlife, I guess.
You: Why is it that I always lose things as soon as I need them?!
Four: Actually, it's not that you lose things when you need them. You lose them a while before. It's just that you LOOK for things when you need them.
You: Okay yeah thanks so much Link, that's great to hear, now, WHERE'S THE FUCKING FIRST AID KIT??
Legend: But what do I get out of it Princey?
You: A night of fashion, mischief, mayhem, and possible death.
Legend: Ooh, check, check, and check; not sure about that last one tho.
You: It won't be you.
Legend: I'll get my rings.
You: Why are you guys acting like this??
Twilight: Oh, we're not acting. We really are like this.
Link: Cause your pretty and your smart, and your ignoring me so your obviously my type.
You, who was distracted: I'm sorry- what were you saying?
Link: Perfect.
Thanks for reading this shitpost lmao
I just needed smth more my flavor of reader, and reader/Chain so I made this snack to satisfy me for now
Ill probably be making a fic in the future but for now bs like this will have to do
(Might use some of these quotes in it acc lol)
Peace out,
🌙
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libraryraccoon · 25 days
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DAD!READER AND YUU WHEN ??!
I know it's weird, I know it's supposed to be us, that we don't see him, but I really, really want to adopt Yuu from Twisted Wonderland-
This child had to go through so many troubles and have so many traumas (8 maybe 9 Overblots, having to find himself in another world without knowing anything, knowing no one, no one explains things to him, no one to talk to who could understand,... and more)... All I want is giving them a hug, a home, peace and just adopting them.
They are precious. Need to be protect and nobody will do it, so let me do it.
I NEED someone to write a Yuu and Dad!(Male or GN)Reader. Where the reader just punch Crowley in the face and protect Yuu, and maybe adopt all the children in that fucking school because they are all traumatized and need better parents. Maybe Dad!Reader is a therapist and does therapy sessions with them, because they all need it, not only Yuu.
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l05t1nth3v01d · 2 years
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Why the fuck do you think I'm especially typing in gn/male reader?
SO I CAN READ FEM!READER!?!?!?!?
I think the fuck not.
Normalise marking your stories correctly and stop mis-using the god damn hashtags.
It's so annoying
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691 notes · View notes
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This won't really change my writing but I'm curious and wanted to ask; is anyone bothered by me exclusively using they/them when writing about the yautja? I've noticed very few people do this so I wanted to know what you guys think about it. Does it make any of you uncomfortable?
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the99thfanboy · 2 years
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✨Tag your fic with the reader's gender✨
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imaginethathaikyuu · 1 year
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I’m sorry but I have so many people ask for SPECIFICALLY MALEs/o and all you say is there is no need for pronouns but you do female. Bffr
what
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letssimptogether · 10 months
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Slashers x Pregnant! Reader
✨ reader almost gets hurt by a victim/victim uses reader as leverage — requested by anon ✨
includes: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, and Poly! Ghostface
warnings: mentions or possible descriptions of (slight!) violence, cursing
a/n: i might use some manga as lil cover pictures when writing multiple slashers/idk what picture to use idk i think they’re cute teehee😅🤭 anyways, sorry for the wait—i hope you all enjoy! readers pronouns are gender neutral💜💜
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💜Bo Sinclair
You just finished doing the dishes, when you heard a knock at the door. Unsure it was one of the boys, you scooted from your comfy couch spot and opened the door.
To your surprise, it was not one of the boys—and much to the unexpected visitor's surprise, someone opened the damned door.
“Please, you have to help me.” The man begged in front of you, big sloppy tears pouring from his eyes.
You paused and looked at the male in front of you before raising a brow. You knew what was up, but you never had to deal with the victims before, especially now that you’re over a month pregnant—Bo really doesn’t want you talking or handling them.
“They’re going to get me,” He choke and sobbed, “I need your help.”
Unsure of what to do, you stood there for a few seconds longer, thinking of what the safest option was, but also one that wouldn’t put the boys in danger.
Over the surprise visitor's shoulder, you could see Bo approaching, and he was just a few buildings away—while staring at Bo, and trying to decide your option, the visitor turned around to catch what you were looking at and met Bo’s now rage-filled demeanor.
Quickly, he shoved you to the floor, hopping over you; only stepping on your arm. The minute Bo reached you, he gently helped you up and cupped your cheek. He then pressed a small kiss to your nose and asked you to go to your guy’s shared bedroom.
You could hear each sloshing stabbing sound and the man’s blood-curdling screams almost all night before Bo accompanied you in bed.
🩷Vincent Sinclair
You happily made your way towards the Wax Museum, a plate of food in your hand for your beloved since you know Vincent most likely hasn’t eaten yet.
Once you got to the entrance of the museum, much to your startle, the door was already open. And to make matters worse, you hear two voices giggling.
You stood still beside the entrance, your free hand holding where your womb is, pausing to think of your best option for safety for you and the growing baby. Vincent must've known of their presence, so it's only a matter of time now. Once their whispering died down, you snuck inside the building, peeking around each corner and listening to make sure nobody could see or hear you. You turned a corner too quick in your need to get to Vincent, that you bumped your hip on a nearby table, almost causing you to drop your plate. "Shit," You silently muttered, panicking slightly from your slight bump. "What was that?" A man asked just faint enough for you to hear, causing your panic to rise more. "Maybe it's the dog from earlier?" A woman responded questioningly. As if on cue, Vincent sneaks around the corner and places a comforting hand on your shoulder, while also signaling you to shush before pointing in the direction of where the intruders. He quickly puts his hand over his mask's mouth, then presses it softly to where your baby bump's growing like a little kiss. And from there, he went to take care of the two.
💜Lester Sinclair
You were riding in the truck with Lester, as he went to run errands when a stranger waved you guys down alongside the road.
“Hey! Hi—sorry to bother you guys,” The stranger stumbled nervously, “Something happened and we really need to get to our friends, would one of us be able to catch a ride to the nearest town?”
You and Lester exchanged unsure glances, but Lester agreed nonetheless. You scooted to the middle seat closer Lester, giving him one last worried glance before patting the seat for the stranger.
The three of you rode in an uncomfortable silence, occasionally making some small talk about the small town of Ambrose, and how the two of you like it.
“Ain’t too bad,” Lester spoke up, “Pretty quiet. Everyone minds their own business for the most part.”
The strangers phone started to ring, and they quickly apologized and answered, stiffening in statue after what seemed 10 seconds. They nervously side eyed Lester and you a few times, while giving verbal acknowledgments over the phone.
“Excuse me—can you stop the car?” They asked, feigning a polite exterior, their jaw quivering and the right hand upon the door handle shook nervously.
“Mhm,” Lester slowed to a stop, but before the old beat up truck could even get to a halt, the stranger opened the door, and grabbed you, pulling the both of you out of the car, leaving only Lester in the drivers seat.
“Stay back, freak! Or—or else!” The stranger shoved you to the ground, then pointing a finger to Lester, to prove a point to him that they’re not above violence.
You tried to crawl away, but the stranger had other plans.
“Get back here, bitch,” The strangers focus was too engrossed into you, they didn’t notice Lester hop out of the truck, “I heard what you did to my friends!”
The stranger went to reach for you, but was stopped by Lester pulling them back and punching perpetrator in the throat.
“Hell is wrong with you hitting a pregnant person,” Lester’s punches did not ease up until the strangers face looked like a bloody pulp.
Once he finished, he walked over to where you stood yourself up, and pulled you in for a hug, and pressed a kiss to your forehead and knelt down to press a kiss to your tummy.
“Y’okay, sugar?” He grasped your hand, and walked you to the truck and helped you sit down comfortably.
🩷Thomas Hewitt
You and Luda sat in the kitchen knitting things for the baby that’s on the way.
“Y/N, would you be a dear and check on the pie?” Luda politely inquired.
“Of course!” You opened the oven to check, but the pie wasn’t fully done, so you reset the timer for about 5 minutes.
You took your seat back, and continued knitting your baby blanket. Luda stood up, and started cleaning the counters and washing the dishes used to make the cherry pie.
Faint scrambling and screaming could be heard coming from the basement, but you just turned on the small radio and continuing knitting zigzags into the blankets design.
Until someone managed to scramble their way to the first floor, scrambling through the living room, and then the kitchen.
“You two! Hey! You have to help me!” The man pleaded, “He’s trying to kill me down there!”
The man pointed down in the basement, and Luda looked at him unimpressed. She was sneaking her way to find something to hit the person with without being detected, but the man grabbed onto your hand and tried pulling you with him.
“Please! You have to listen to me; he’s going to kill me—then he’s going to kill you too!” He sobbed, ripping you from your chair at the small table.
“I—” You didn’t get a chance to respond or call for help before the man pulled you outside and down the wooden steps.
“Tommy!” You hear Luda Mae call out, “They’re trying to take Y/N!”
About two minutes later, Thomas ran through the door, his chainsaw rumbling with a seething rage. Within a minute, your captor was mowed down by Thomas, who then dropped the (now off) chainsaw, and spun you in the air with his embrace, pressing his forehead to yours.
That night, Thomas made you a warm bath and you enjoyed a cool cup of sweet tea while you got to munch on the pie you and Luda made from earlier.
💜Brahms Heelshire
It was a cool Sunday afternoon, and you were waiting for Malcolm to bring groceries to the house for you and Brahms—who was hiding upstairs, waiting for your okay to come out.
You sat in the living room, sipping on your favorite hot beverage while rereading a book you started, but haven’t finished.
Faint knocking could be heard from the front door, so you placed your book and drink down, and peeled through the door.
Malcom finally arrived; which means Brahms can come out soon!
“Afternoon, Malcolm!” You gave a small smile with your greeting, which dropped when you saw the man who delivers Brahms and your groceries arrived empty handed.
“Malcolm wh—” You were cut off by his quick ramblings.
“Y/N, you have to get out of here,” He quickly blurted out, “Brahms is alive; he-he’s been living in the walls!”
Mentally, you rolled your eyes. You knew this, obviously—he is your partner after all.
“What do you mean?” You faked concern, even though you had a feeling you knew how this would end.
The grocery boy would enter, prohibited to leave; his fate sealed past the front door.
“Brahms—I SAW him, Y/N.” He huffed, pacing in a nervous circle.
“I think you’re just seeing things, Malcolm. I live here, don’t you think I’d know if he’s here? Wouldn’t I have seen or heard him?” You retorted, raising an eyebrow, trying your best to gaslight him into leaving you and Brahms alone.
He grasped your hand, “If you refuse to believe it, I have no choice. We’re getting out of here and somewhere safe.”
Little did he know, Brahms was watching the whole interaction. And boy is he pissed.
He snuck out through one of the walls, and approached Malcolm from behind.
“Y/N,” He whined, walking towards where Malcom had a grip on your wrist, “Don’t go.”
“Get him Brahms!” You cried, ripping your arm away from Malcolm and backing away.
Brahms quickly gripped Malcolm’s neck, squeezing so hard his poor face turned a blueish purple from the lack of oxygen due to Brahms’ rage.
As soon as Malcom’s body felt limp, Brahms ran towards your slightly nervous form, nuzzling his masked face into your neck, whimpering softly while rubbing your belly.
🩷Poly! Ghostface
You laid sprawled out upon the bed that the three of you shared, watching nostalgic horror movies. Your phone wasn’t too far from your reach due to the boys needing a ride later.
As if on cue, said device started ringing with Stu’s ringtone.
“Hey, babe!” You perked up, “You need me to come scoop you guys up?”
“Mhm-ow!” The sound of slapping could be heard on your end, and Stu groaned over the phone.
“Hi cutie,” Billy snatched the phone from Stu, “Seems nobody’s here. Can you come get us now?”
“Absolutely!” You beamed before hanging up, running to your car, and starting it.
Once you got to the location they sent you, you pulled into the driveway, turned your lights off, and parked the car.
With few lights lit in the house, you could only make out one figure running around in the dark rather than two. Nonetheless, you brushed it off due to how dim the house was, and you turned your music back up, rubbing your hand over the slight bump.
The figure snuck out of the house, and knocked on the window of the car.
“Are you their ride, bitch?” She sneered, “I overheard those fuck-faces on the phone talking about a ride.”
You tried to lock the doors, which you left unlocked for the boys, but the assailant was faster to open the door. She tried to rip you out of the car as you covered yourself up for defense, both not realizing the seatbelt was on.
“Billy!” You screamed out, “Stu, help please!”
The stranger retracted their fist to hit you, but was pulled back by Billy’s grip, before he plunged a knife into her. She glared at you as she tried to hit Stu who blocked her path, gladly taking a turn stabbing her in the ribs.
They dropped her, and both huddled around you, pressing kisses to your forehead and cheek while their hands hold your baby bump.
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galacticgraffiti · 6 months
Text
✿⋅ Oh, to be Alone with You ⋅✿
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NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI
Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 2.6k Descriptors: I try my best to write inclusively. Reader uses she/her pronouns and is mentioned in her physicality but not described in detail. If anything escaped me, please let me know! Sorry I couldn't make this more gender neutral, but since this fic is a gift to @naariel I thought I'd use her pronouns. Warnings: dirty daydreams, yearning, lusting after someone, male masturbation, dirty talk, fantasy of PiV sex within the daydream, bath sex, this is written from Halsin's POV
⋆⋅ Inspired by this insane artwork by @naariel ⋅⋆
Author's note: I've been pondering, rotating and marinating this artwork in my mind for WEEKS. It haunts me in the best possible way and I am so happy Naariel gave me permission to reference her art! If you are not already following her, you definitely should - her skill and talent are infinite.
Masterlist ⋆ If you prefer AO3
───── ⋆⋅✿⋅⋆ ─────
Oh, to be Alone with You
Halsin sighs when he finally sits down, long limbs sprawling on the too-small chair that can barely contain him.
Chairs. What superfluous oddities, where a big tree stump might have sufficed. If one has to make them at all, why not at least make them comfortable? Why not sit in the meadows, why not find a place to lay where the sun has warmed a rock that has been washed and polished by the rain? But no, the rules of the city demand he be contained within four walls instead of roaming free, they demand he bathe in a wooden tub instead of out in the wilds, they demand he wear clothes and be polite to people even as they trample the Oak Father’s creations beneath their boots without even stopping to look and enjoy nature’s gifts.
Halsin shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose to stave off the oncoming headache. It has been a long day and he is so tired. A long week. A long few weeks, if he is being honest with himself. In all these centuries, times have been- well-  rough, to say the least. But whatever haunts the Sword Coast now… it’s different. Bigger than the invasions of Goblins across the land, bigger than the Shadow druids, bigger even than the Shadow Curse that has occupied Halsin’s every waking hour for nigh on one hundred years.
At least, Thaniel and Oliver have been reunited, some life returning to the lands as it always should have been. A victory, chased for so long, tasting sweet only for a moment before the stale urgency of the matter at hand had seeped back into Halsin’s mind: Mindflayers infecting innocents, magic-infused tadpoles, an Elder Brain… There are too many battles to be fought, and not one of them to be won.
Halsin presses his lips together and tries to banish the dark thoughts from his mind. There are some good things that have come out of this: They have not lost a fight yet, and his newfound companions are… stimulating, to say the least. Fighting alongside them has been a joy and a privilege - watching their blades sear, their magic erupt, their arrows pierce their targets as the bear Halsin rips through flesh and bone. The fighting is necessary, and his companions are more skilled than he could have ever wished for. This day may have been hard, but it was successful nonetheless, and now he is here, freshly bathed and ready to find some rest for the night. If only it could be under the stars, far outside the city walls, he would almost call himself happy. Instead, he must bed down alone, encased by  too many walls and a too-small bed frame.
Halsin misses the smell of grass that has not been trampled by hundreds of boot-clad feet, he misses the feeling of bark against his fur, he misses his wildshape and trodding through calm forests instead of bloodied battlefields. He misses air that is crisp and clean and doesn't smell of artificially molten metals. He misses the Grove, he misses Thaniel and he misses the woods. The city has been forsaken by Silvanus, and even if this place is a small oasis of nature, it is not the same as being out among the Oak Father’s creations.
He cracks his neck, his hair tickling his collarbones. Halsin curses quietly to himself, pushing a curl behind his ear. He needs to cut his hair - it’s getting too long. And he needs to braid it again, his plaits are all out of sorts. It might be a hassle to do it without a mirror- but maybe he could ask-
No.
Shaking his head as if to will the thought away, he slumps into the discomfort of the chair a little more.
No, he shouldn't ask her anything. Nothing that would involve her hands on him, at least. Certainly not her fingers buried in his hair, tugging softly, her voice gently commanding that he tilt his head a different way. He can’t ask for that. It would only lead to him asking for more:
More of her hands on him, more of her skin against his, more than innocent touches and whispered goodnights across the campfire. He would ask for everything: To bury himself inside her until the world fades away, to devour her until she is slick with sweat from the pleasure he brings her. To be the keeper of her heart, just as he yearns for her to be the keeper of his.
Halsin can feel the familiar tightness in his back as the golden shimmer of his wildshape travels up to his shoulder blades. One thought of her, and already the bear stirs.
He remembers everything that happened today, even as he tries so hard to think of something else:
He remembers the way she smells, of sweet berries, blood and leather. He remembers her looking up at him, as her fingers clutch her weapon tightly. He remembers the fire in her eyes after the slaughter, the glow in her cheeks when she turned around to look at him and found only the bear. He remembers how she smiled at him, even after all that violence, a smile like the sinking sun, bloodied and red, but more beautiful than he could ever have dreamed up.
And as the day progressed: Her arm bumping into his, her head tilting up when she asked him a question and wanted to read his expression. How her hands slipped around him to reach for some food at the campfire earlier when they rested. Her sweet breath on his face and a mumbled excuse when she walked into him, still drowsy with sleep. And all Halsin wanted to do was pull her into his lap and bury his nose in the crook of her neck and forget about the world, forget about everyone watching, and have her, right then, in that moment. Have her all to himself, make her his very own. To feel her around him, to show her the depth of his affection, the desperation of his desire, the magnitude of his commitment.
All he wanted in that moment - all he still wants - is to touch her, to feel her in ways that he cannot ask for because he is scared she will not want the same thing he does. Halsin wants to lick the sweat off her skin, he wants to be buried between her thighs whenever they can steal away, even for a few minutes, he wants her taste on his tongue when he fights, and to wrap himself around her when they sleep.
The force of his own thoughts makes Halsin shudder, glowing desire stirring deep in his belly.
Her tongue in his mouth, his hands on her skin: How soft she would be against him. How wonderful to hear her voice break when she cries out for him, how she would taste if he could lick her off his fingers, the honey of her thighs, the salt of her sweat. He would give anything to know the expression on her face when she is lost to mindless bliss- he would give everything to know that he is the cause of it.
A low moan escapes his throat then, and Halsin presses his lips together when his mind returns from memory and sweet imagination to this house in the midst of a bustling city. This is not nature, where he can do what pleases him when it pleases him. No, the city - ‘civilisation’ as they call it - comes with rules, expectations, limitations.
He is in someone else’s home, exhausted from the day, the blood barely washed off his skin. And yet, all he can think about is… her. All he can feel is the constriction of his clothing, the confinement of leather where he longs to be touched. He wants to shed like the bear sheds his fur after the winter, he wants to feel free again.
Halsin hums, breathing deeply, willing away the golden sparks of his wildshape that dance along his fingertips. He listens intently, fingers dancing across his thighs, drumming an impatient rhythm.
Nothing in the house stirs. Maybe they are all gone still, running their errands, finding bath houses, visiting old friends and merchants they used to know before they return here for a long night’s rest. Maybe Halsin can have a small pocket of time to himself. Time to dream himself away, to give in to the desire he has harboured for so long.
Maybe… he could use this opportunity to release some of that tension that has settled deep in his belly. Refocus his attention. Maybe it’ll be for the best- not to think of her constantly anymore, not of her smell, or the colour of her eyes, of the way her fingers linger on his for a moment too long whenever they touch, or how much he wished they could have bathed together when he sank into the tub earlier that night.
The city has many downsides, but baths are one of the few things to enjoy. Hot springs are wonderful, but few and far between. Nature provides: The bear does not mind the coldness of a stream in the woods, or the iciness of a mountain lake. But there is nothing like a steaming bath to help prevent the sore ache that settles in his bones after a fight.
If only it was acceptable to ask her if she would join him. If only it had been her hands washing dirt and grime and blood from his skin, brushing his hair, kneading tired muscles, her hands much smaller than his, but strong and determined. Loving.
Halsin lets his head fall back, spine cracking as he settles in the small, uncomfortable chair, spreading his legs to cup his hardening cock. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine it…
She glistens in the dim light, thin streams of water trickling down her skin when she emerges from the bath, her lashes stuck together as she beams at him.
“Mhh, we should have done this ages ago!”
“I could not agree more, my heart.” Halsin loves seeing her like this. She looks happy, like she has not a care in the world.
She crawls up into his lap, settling on him, her thighs bracketing his. Her hands run across his chest, lathering him in soap that smells of lavender and thyme. Halsin’s heart is beating in his throat when she leans in to kiss his collarbone, her lips soft, her hair smelling of smoke and flowers as it always does.
Desire surges inside him, crackling like lightning in his veins, and he sends the bear away, far away. This is a moment he wants for himself: Skin against skin, tongues exploring, hands intertwined. This is no place for fangs and claws, not tonight. Halsin unlaces his trousers with steady fingers, though even those few seconds seem unbearable to him. When his hand finally wraps around his cock, he breathes a sigh of relief, only to feel dissatisfied moments after. He wants her hands, her eyes on him, her voice dripping with lust. For now, his imagination will have to do.
He dreams himself back to the bath, thinking of all he could have had, if he had only had the courage to ask.
Her skin is burning hot against his, her fingers leave a flaming trail wherever she touches him.
“Is this alright, my love?” Her voice is full of concern and affection, as it always is when she asks about his comfort and well-being.
“More than alright.” Halsin’s breaths grow shaky when she moves her hips, shallowly grinding down against him. “Gods, I want to-”
“Mhhm?” There is a curious twinkle in her eye. “What is it you want? Tell me. I’m sure I could make your dreams come true.”
Halsin shifts when the wooden backing of the chair digs into his back as he bucks his hips, fucking into his hand that is wrapped around his cock - a poor substitution for what - for who - he really wants.
A growl rings out in the empty room when he closes his eyes and imagines her again.
Her thighs look so lovely, spread wide so he can fit between them. She smells of the bath salts and of herself, and her voice talks to him through the thick fog of his desire.
“I know what you want, don’t I, bear? I’ll take such good care of you if you let me. I’ll make sure you don’t even have to ask for it. I’ll let you taste me, whenever you want- wherever you want. I’ll help you focus- you can focus on me, can’t you? There you go…”
Halsin is panting, his hand moving faster.
She feels good, so good when she sinks down on him, wet with arousal and so willing to take him.
“You, little flower, are the jewel of nature’s creation,” he mumbles. “You are all I could ever want and more. I want to taste you on my tongue, always- for there to never be a day where I won’t know the way you drip for me- for you to never go a day without being satisfied, without feeling loved and cared for. Your happiness is all I want- your ecstasy all I desire. Let me take care of you.”
She moans, her head falling back as she starts to roll her hips, taking him deeper and deeper with each stroke.
“I’ll take care of you as you do of me,” she whispers. “I’ll make sure to provide for you all you could ever need or want. You give and give, let me give you everything I am in return. Be selfish, bear. Take what you want, swallow me whole, devour me without worrying whether it’s too much. I want you to. Mark me- make me yours. Tell the whole world I belong to you, whichever way you desire.”
Her movements are desperate now, her words only sighs and moans, breathless as she buries her head against his shoulder. Halsin inhales the scent of her hair, sinks into her words as the fog of lust that has settled on his brain grows thicker and heavier, until there is not a thought left on his mind but her.
“Halsin-” Gods, his name sounds so sweet off her tongue. “Halsin, I want you to fill me. Please- please, I want to feel full with you, today and every day you’ll fucking let me. I want to fight knowing you are still dripping down my thighs, I want to kiss you under the stars and know I’ll never be without you again.”
The curses that are falling from his lips are ungodly, but Halsin does not care. He is desperate now, mouth open as he calls her name and thinks of the words he wishes he could hear her say.
“Come for me, bear. Come inside me, lay claim to me as only you ever could- f-fuck- make me yours- please- Halsin, I’m yours, I’m yours and yours and yours, as long as you’ll have me- forever if you want to-”
With a cry of her name on his lips, Halsin gives in to pleasure and lets himself be overtaken by a wave of bliss. His thighs tremble as he spills over his hand, sticky warmth dripping from his fingers. He does not open his eyes. Not yet. He wants to stay in the fantasy just a moment longer.
“Halsin, I-”
His eyes open, blood rushing to his cheeks as he returns to the real world and finds her standing in the doorway.
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I'm going fucking feral. Running into the woods hoping to find him there, who's with me -
@purgetrooperfox @ashotofspotchka @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ulchabhangorm @queen--kenobi @samspenandsword @rescuethewretched @pinkiemme @baba-fett @witchklng @ladykatakuri @certified-anakinfucker @fanfiction-i-llike @voidinfernal @foxferret02 @rosieofcorona @savagemickey03 @perseny @margoisthemoon2 @shiiunn @saucyhedgehog @tonysoffice @pupshr00m @supercalifragilisticprincess @palpipeen @silly-gooseastarion @mila-bee @shit-i-say-throughout-the-day @idkwhatsgoingonwithme @aeryntheofficial @jekasha @gub @nogitsune-the @solarrexplosion @hexqueensupreme @unofficialavenger90 @frankiesghost @curtaincaramba
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bump1nthen1ght · 2 days
Text
Between the Neon (Male!Android x AFAB!Reader)
Pairing: AFAB!Reader x Male!Robot
Genre: Sci-fi, CyberPunk, Prostitute!Reader, Fluffy Smut
Word Count: 1714 words
Warning: Explicit Content Ahead (18+ ONLY)
Summary: After leaving his last appointment completely satisfied, Axel wasted no time in coming back to request more of your services.
Request: Anything with Axel please! (From kinktober)
A/N: Soooo I totally forgot that the original drabble with Axel (Which you can find here) was gender neutral, and didn’t realize until I had fully written out the fic 🤦‍♀️. Soo I decided to write two versions, one with an AFAB!Reader and one with an AMAB!Reader, with the reader still using they/them pronouns. Hope y’all enjoy!
Link to AMAB!Reader is Here!
After many years of working, you’ve grown a good sense for customers; Who will tip well, who’s going to cause problems, and the special few who will become your favorites.
You knew immediately that Axel was going to go in the latter category. But what you hadn’t expected was for him to jump to your #1 patron within a month of your first rendezvous. Man was eager and had some money to spend, that was for sure.
“Hmm, good bot.” Your thumb rubs across his smooth skull-plating, moaning as his synthetic tongue fucks against your g-spot. His vents exhale hot steam, like a heating pad between your legs. He had gotten that body mod after three sessions together, something to prevent him  from overheating amidst the countless orgasms. The nodes of textured tongue send shivers down your spine, making you sink into your plush work bed. “Fuck, your getting good at this, Axel.”
Axel had learned on his second visit that your pussy was his favorite flavor, always begging for a taste at the beginning of every session. He had been slightly clumsy at first, but once he learned your biology, he took it up like a dedicated scholar. You had even caught him looking at extensive diagrams of the human vulva after one session, making notes on what made you specifically shiver and cum.
“I’m close, baby.” Axel moans into your mound, face lit in bright blue blush. Machinery whirrs as your thighs press into the sides of his head, his own personal heaven. Your toes curl behind his neck, orgasm striking quick and hard “Fuck~” You pant, hips jerking and humping into Axel’s jaw, your juices running down his chin. He laps them up like a dog, always desperate for another taste.
You have to pull him away from your cunt, slightly overstimulated and eager for the next part of your session. Axel has a stupid wide grin on his face, his digital pupils turned into glitchy hearts.
What a cutie.
You kiss Axel’s cheek as he crawls up your body, letting him snuggle into your neck and hug you with sticky hands.
“I wanna try something new today.” You whisper in his audial port. Axel whimpers.
“Yes p-please.” He lets you pull away from the embrace, obediently following orders to sit on the edge of the bed. Axel is always quick to try new things, desperately excited to explore your body and all its new sensations.
You remember the first time you rode him, how his glitchy voice echoed across your apartment. 
“O-o-oh stars!”
His hands had struggled choosing between gripping your hips and fondling your tits, watching all of you bounce in his dick. That dilemma was solved when you flipped into reverse cowgirl and he was able to palm your jiggling ass cheeks.
“You’re incredible! Incredible!” He had yelped as he overloaded inside you, licking your thighs clean of cum right after. He then spent the next 20 minutes caressing your butt, watching the way it wiggled with every hip movement.
That's what inspired you tonight.
You flip around to your stomach, holding your weight on your elbows and shimmying your hips. Your fingers come down to your pussy lips and spread them wide open. 
“Come here, baby.”
Axel scrambles up the bed, aching cock in his grip, lemon-lime coolant dripping down the shaft. He’s quick to line up with your hole, but doesn’t sink in just yet. He never does without permission.
Good boy.
“Now put your hands on my hips.” Your voice guides him along, shaky digits glancing across your pelvis. His leaking tip pressed against your entrance, so close to just slipping inside you. Another burst of air comes from his vents.
“Now's the fun part.” Settling into your knees, you throw your ass back onto Axel, cock sliding in like a hot knife through butter. His digits leave indents on your love handles, his voice glitching.
“Fu-uck!” He pants, his eyes going cross from the sudden grip on his dick. Your velvety walls hold him tight, his nodes rubbing as he his hips jump a little. You smirk, swiveling your hips.
“You gotta good grip back there?” Your voice purrs, and you take Axel’s lusty moans as a definite ‘yes’. 
Axel’s voice melts into whines as you slide him out till the tip, only to shriek and glitch when you throw your ass back on to him. You give him little time to recover, using his hands for stability to throw it back and over and over onto his cock. Streams of coolant run down his cock and between your pussy lips, sloshing together with skin and wiring.
“Oh, stars and galaxies~” Axel moans, leaning his torso forward to help his balance. “You feel so go-od.” Axel's tongue lolls out in a pant, more steam pumping from his vents. “That ass.” His voice teeters off, hands wandering down to your jiggling backside.
“You wanna slap it, Axel?” You swivel your hips again, core clenching as you put an extra shimmy in your hips.
“Y-yes. Will that h-hurt you-ungh!” 
Your pussy walls clench onto Axel’s cock, bottom lip bitten between your teeth at the idea.
“No, baby. I want it.”
A mixture between a delighted giggle and a ravenous moan squeal from Axel’s audial ports. One hand moves from your hips to your ass, never leaving the skin. He gives a tentative squeeze, mindful of his robotic strength, before giving you a soft tap. It’s sweet, but you crave more. 
“You can do it harder, Axel. In fact….”
You pause your bouncing, craving to see Axel’s expression. His cheeks grow bright with his coolant, his pupils flickering back and forth between the arch of your back and your face.
“Why’d you stop?”
“Patience, sweet thing.” You grip onto the bedspread below, adjusting your knees upward into proper doggy style. “Here, grab onto my hips again.” Axel follows your instructions dutifully, finding his palace on your pelvis. His plating shudders as you rock forward, pulling his cock out to the tip. Axel rushes to follow, hands still in place, but resists. “Okay, now pull me back. Like I was doing before.”
There’s an audible click as Axel turns his head, slightly confused. But as always he’s an obedient boy, and does as he’s told.
He goes slow, still timid and unsure. But a crackling groan from his chest tells you he’s catching on quickly as pulls you back onto his cock.
“Ok, now pull out a bit.”
Big globs of coolant drop down your pussy and onto Axel’s shaft as he does, another shudder. His digits shale against your skin.
“Now, pull me back and push your hips up.”
Axel increases his pace a bit, impatience finally getting to him, chasing your warmth. A texture head bumps against your g-spot, and you make sure to emphasize your moan.
“Again.” 
Axel, ever the fast learner, humps into you again, nodes scraping along your inner walls with a little more force. You bite your lip.
“Again, faster.”
Your right hand spreads forward, knuckles clenching into the fabric. Axel, ever the quick learner, thrusts again with more gusto. Another crackling moan from behind you. He doesn’t wait for your instruction, following the unspoken and humping into you.
“Yes, just like that.”
Axel is quick in finding his rhythm, engines whirring as his hips speed up. Your cheap mattress squeaks, bed frame now hitting the wall as Axel throws his weight into you.
“Oh, yes.” Axel moans, eyes transfixed by you jiggling ass, jiggling because of him.
“Ungh, right there!” Your neck arches backward, mouth open wide with your tongue sticking out. Axel’s head easily find your g-spot with every hit, even as Axel himself grows more frantic. Mechanical parts that you’ve never heard from him before kick into gear, helping him move with more and more force.
“Ooo-oh!” Axel digits grow slick on your sweat, struggling to find a grip. But he doesn’t care, clawing into the fat and chasing the high of your cunt on his cock. Cum and fluids spatter onto your ass cheeks, even reach your lower back as Axel fucks you hard and fast.
“Slap my ass!”
This time the mix of adrenaline and lust are too much, overloading Axel’s more gentler sensibilities, and he gives you a proper spank. The noise echoes across the room.
“Fuck!” Your pussy milks him for all his worth. Axels digits rub across the handprint do doubt on your skin, right before slapping the other side just as hard. “Yes! Yes!”
Your headboard crashes into your wall now, shaking the very foundations of your shitty apartment. The gears in Axel’s legs work overtime, and you're sure the only thing that could stop him now would be his own orgasm, not any kind of exhaustion.
Speaking of which-
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. W-where do you want-”
“Inside, creampie me!”
It’s like a password, sending Axel into a whole new mode of fucking. His cockhead pounds the very end of your pussy, hands knotting into your ass. You feel a buzzing running up your stomach and down your legs. Your skin feels like it's on fire.
“So good, so good, so good.” Axel’s voice babbles, no amount of steam for  his vents preventing the rising heat in his wiring. “Oh, stars”
An explosion of cum bursts in your cunt, filling you up like a sex toy, spurting out of the sides. You reach your high at that moment, toes curling and pussy flexing onto Axel’s cock.
The poor bot nearly collapses after he pulls out, his modesty plate shuddering to close as his temperature warning beep goes off. He falls onto his side, arm thrown over his face. 
It takes you a while to catch your breath, trying to remember the last time a client left you this cock-drunk. Once you do, you sidle up to Axel, enjoying the excess warmth of his body, like a giant heating pad.
“That was….awesome.”
Axel pants, arm slipping under your hips to pull you closer. His system beeps again, no doubt sending him advisories to push your hot, warm-blooded body away. But those are quickly deflected, Axel nuzzling his face into your hair.
Yup, definitely one of your favorites.
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devourable · 1 year
Text
† church boy
[ sfw | tw : religion (not named but heavily implied), sacrilege, potential religious trauma? as well as general yandere content but it’s v tame ]
male yandere x gender neutral reader! only pronoun used for reader is ‘you’. i havent written like this in a very long time so i apologize if this is bad ;_;
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abraham lived a simple life for the majority of his 21 years on this planet. he was born and raised in a religious household, the only son of a wealthy pastor, surrounded by typical bible-thumping folk who taught him that *** was above everything, above him, above the things he loved, and putting anything (or anyone) above his faith would surely result in his damnation. and his whole life, he believed that.
that was… until you entered his life.
it happened at a fundraiser he was volunteering at. it was any other day for the boy, handing out advertisements and chatting with everyone that came and went. an average, mundane event for him where he’d talk about the same things he did every day, smile, wave, everything that was expected of him.
after the last person in his line had left, he looked down to begin organizing his things so he could join the rest of the party. when he was shadowed by someone stepping in front of him again, he expected to see a familiar face — maybe someone that might’ve forgotten something? but when he looked up…
abraham’s breath caught in his throat. he swore the earth had stopped spinning the second your eyes locked.
whether if you were there because you shared the same religion, was dragged there by a friend/family member, or simply because there was free food, he had no clue - but it didn't matter. your looks, the way you moved, the sound of your voice — why was it all so... enchanting?
he couldn’t help the slight stutter in his words as he hastily offered you a pamphlet, quickly introducing himself and inquiring about you. what was your name? were you new to the church? why haven’t you met before?
the soft laugh you emitted as you spoke and the feeling of your skin grazing his felt like fire. and your name... oh, the poor boy didn’t even realize it, but he couldn’t help it — within moments of knowing you, he had grown totally enamored!
abraham found himself hovering by your side for the rest of the event. he was awkward, you’d quickly realize, but it was in that sort of sweet, inexperienced way. he was desperate to know you, to get closer to you, hoping that maybe if he could understand you, he’d figure out how to quell these intense feelings that had built within him — but to you and everyone else, he was simply making sure a new face wasn’t alone during the event. he was just being a good little pastor’s boy! that’s what he told himself too, over and over again.
he was being good by making you laugh. he was being good by giving you his number. and it was good that he grew elated by the idea of getting to see you again after this. he was a good person, so what if he was neglecting his duties to be around you? he did what he was supposed to all the time, surely he could be forgiven just this once.
right?
his obsession with you didn’t take long to blossom after that first meeting. you started to infiltrate every part of his life in one way or another. his prayers became tangled up with thoughts of you. rather than reading the bible, he’d reread the texts between the two of you while he waited for you to respond to them. when he went to church, he found himself scanning the pews in hopes of spotting you among the congregation rather than finding a seat right away. when service began, he couldn’t focus on the preaching taking place because he was too busy thinking of ways to see you again.
despite the utter adoration abraham had grown to feel for you.. at some point, for the first time in his life, he couldn’t help but wonder — was he becoming sinful? was he growing gluttonous for your attention? he couldn’t have been, he had been so devout his entire life! it was fine for him to miss a few services to see you as long as he made up for it later…
he couldn’t tell if you were an angel, as heaven-sent as he felt you to be, or if you were the embodiment of temptation, pulling him away from his faith and beckoning him to sin. were you both? could you be both? with the progression of his obsession with you, his conflicted feelings about his relationship with his faith grew alongside it.
maybe you just weren’t any good for him.
but your name and god seemed to always come up at the same time…
so maybe, it was a sign that he had someone new to worship.
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hazelfoureyes · 2 months
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Do you think you could do a male version of the radioapple is the safe word? Or maybe just a gender neutral pronouned story? I adore it so much
of course! I am happy to adapt my stories whenever possible 🥺✨ sometimes I can’t but this one was an easy enough shift! didn’t tag the horny deer cult, this is the same story but with the hardware swapped out. Will tag in new pieces 🙏 warning; I almost exclusively watch femboy gay porn and it shows
The Safeword is RadioApple (Part 1)
(RadioApple x MaleReader)
Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins
tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer x Reader, smut, RadioApple in a sense, male reader, creampie, breath play, rough sex, Alastor is an eternal little shit, soft jazz, hard jazz, Luci calls himself Daddy, 🗣️ READER GETS SPITROASTED, threesome, asshole hulk smashed, half assed blowjob, help I got too horny on main
MINORS DNI BRUH
“Sir.”
Lucifer jumped, whipping around and shoving Alastor’s face away. “You are a living nightmare, fuck!” He hated being snuck up on, as most people do. Adjusting his hat, he looked around the hotel lobby to see if anyone else witnessed his personal jump scare. Charlie and Vaggie were seated nearby, but hadn’t paid them any attention.
“I aim to please! Now,” Alastor gestured to the stairs, “I, unfortunately, need to show you something upstairs.”
“Ha!” Lucifer forced out a laugh, “Ha. Haaa- Not a chance, scarecrow. Find someone else to search for your brain.” He smirked to himself. “Did you hear that Charlie? I made a joke.”
But Charlie was not laughing. She finally turned her focus to them. “Dad, you have to start trying to get along with Alastor.” She looked to Alastor who was nodding along as if he actually cared at all, “He’s trying to spend time with you. Come on, Dad. For me?”
With a pout, he dramatically crossed his arms, “Fine. I’ll play nice, for you. Not for him.” Lucifer glared daggers at Alastor. “Fuck him.”
“Daaad!” She groaned.
“Yeah yeah, I’m going.” 
Alastor let his microphone follow behind Lucifer’s back, an unseen and unfelt safety net so he couldn’t back out. When they approached Alastor’s door, Lucifer put up his hands as if to physically stop the situation from progressing, “There is no way in all of hell I am going in your bedroom.”
Alastor’s eyes rolled, frustrated already with the interaction. “Are you sure about that?” He pushed the door open, using his mic to make contact with the small of Lucifer’s back. He stopped resisting when he finally looked into the room.
He took a step in, willingly, and as he saw you sitting in the center of the bed in just your sleep robe, he let out a quiet, “What the fuck is this?”
Then a louder, “Heeey, kitten…”. The sound of the door locking made his head whip back to Alastor, teeth bared.
“Luci.”
Softened under the sound of his own name from your lips he brought his attention back to the bed.
It was no secret to anyone that you two were fond of each other. It was the little things you did that endeared the fallen angel to you, how you doted on him. Filling his glass at dinner when you noticed it getting close to empty, holding the door for him, keeping eye contact when he went off on some excited tangent.
Everyone was also aware you were Alastor’s person. And Alastor would give you anything you wanted in death; and today you happened to want Luci.
You’d seen the broadcasts of the King of Hell defending his daughter during the last extermination. The power he gave off, even from your screen, brought goosebumps down your arms. So when you found your way to the hotel, you were elated to see Lucifer himself readily available for interactions. Your luck continued, as your father’s love of jazz had been passed down to you and allowed the radio demon to notice your presence among the sea of new residents. Following the sounds of Nat ‘King’ Cole, he found you one evening in your room, and a mutual fondness for music bore a new friend. And then, more. 
Soon enough you were a regular member of the Hazbin Hotel core crew, by way of Alastor.
That’d been some months ago now, and you finally had the courage to ask Alastor for a special favor.
No part of him understood your motivation, but the idea of making the king of hell pussy-whipped to his darling was understanding enough. And, of course, the pleasure of watching you enjoy yourself. While he was capable all his own, he was happy to allow someone else to fill in. Not to mention—- no, actually, definitely mention the fact it would give him a little more power in the tense dynamic between himself and Lucifer.
For Alastor, sharing you physically wasn’t an issue.  Sex was something he did for your pleasure, though he did enjoy the control he held over you in those intimate moments.
Watching you mewl under someone else, knowing he gave the permission, that Lucifer would never have a chance in Hell if The Radio Demon didn't allow it, made his head dizzy with the loss of blood flow. Whatever pleasure Lucifer could give you was pleasure he has granted you both. The idea of someone pining for you but never having a chance unless he says so made him feel powerful.
“I have a request, of sorts.” You tried to keep your smile still, cheeks twitching with pure nerves. The room was lit by only two small lamps on either nightstand and the light coming from the half open bathroom.
Lucifer approached you, making a dramatic point of going past Alastor. The radio demon chuckled, the king of hell scowled. He placed one knee on the end of the bed, trying to forget this was the spot you shared most nights with Alastor. His smile encouraged you to continue.
“You can say no.” You added quickly. 
“Why would I ever do that?” Lucifer continued to smile at you, too sweetly for what you were going to ask.
“Many reasons.” You added quicker. 
“Come on, tell Luci.” He laughed softly at the idea of denying you anything.
You pressed the tips of your index fingers together nervously, “I want you to fuck me.”
He tried to blink but his eyelids only seemed to rise further and further up his face with every attempt.
“You what now?”
His eyes darted to Alastor, who was now crawling onto the bed and settling behind you. 
“It was a fairly straightforward statement, sir.” Alastor’s tone was always teetering on mocking when he addressed Lucifer, “My dear would like you, for some god awful reason, to bed him.”
If this hadn’t been such a shock, Lucifer would have quipped, “Oh because you can’t, you overdressed maitre d’?”
But when he opened his mouth, there was nothing. He just stared at you. Alastor’s long legs and lanky arms came down beside you, behind you. You looked like the enticing light of an angler fish’s lure, sharp teeth shining just over your shoulder. 
“I thought-,” he motioned between the two of you.
You nodded, “Alastor is happy when I’m happy. And right now, I’d be overjoyed to spend an evening taking care of you.”
Oh, why couldn’t you have said it so sweetly the first time? Take care of him? You always did. Every time he felt something lacking he’d find you close behind offering him just the thing.
Whether a smile, or supportive word, or just a sympathetic ear.
Shifting onto your hands and knees, you crawled toward Lucifer. His face was flush, his brows knitted together in some mix of worry and confusion.
“You don’t have to do that, kitten. I don’t need that.” He reached out a hand to touch your cheek but stopped himself; he’d never touched you before. He had gone out of his way to avoid it, because he couldn’t bear what it would do to him. He’d just be hurting himself, he had thought. His hand began to pull away but you reached out with both of yours and took hold of his wrist.
“I don’t have to do anything, ever, Luci,” Alastor’s grin widened as you said it. A hum of approval only he could hear. A silent, ‘That’s my boy.’
“This is about what I want.” You leaned up to rest your cheek in his open palm, “I’ll accept any answer from you.” Your eyes staring up at him promised safety, “So, what do you want?”
He buried his face in his free hand, opening his fingers to look over you once more. In the shade of the canopied bed, Alastor sat motionless. But Lucifer couldn’t see him, not because of the shadows but because his focus was so purely on you. He had absolute tunnel vision, which happened often when you two would speak. Lucifer made a low sound, coming from somewhere deep in his chest,  hidden beneath all his shame and sense of inadequacy.
Your question was answered as he removed his hat, tossing it to the chaise lounge near the wall. You sat back on your legs and gave him space to remove his coat. Your heart seemed to double its pace, skin practically vibrating. A not-insignificant part of you expected a gentle but firm, “kindly fuck off.”
He seemed to be avoiding eye contact as he pulled his bow tie loose, only returning his knee to the bed when he’d kicked off his boots. Just the shifting of the weight of the bed made your thighs twitch, finally. Alastor leaned backed and watched, Lucifer’s gaze was full of uncertainty as he crawled to you. 
Hilarious. Already worth the price of admission. 
Both on your knees, you leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on Lucifer’s lips. Pulling back, you looked at him and he felt like we’re looking at the sun. Your face was so bright, and warm. What light were you reflecting back at him? Surely not his own. That was long dead. Long buried under bruised wings and lost promises. 
You snaked your fingers into his hair and brought him in for a deeper kiss. When you bit gently on his bottom lip, he shakily opened his mouth. Your grin spread across both of your faces as you pushed your way past his lips.
Lucifer’s tongue was long, and tapered more than you’d expected. It moved, unsure, against yours. Your hands slunk out of his hair and down his chest, sliding until finding the buttons of his vest. 
You felt him gasp into you, and when you began to open his shirt he pulled away, “It’s been… a very long time.”
A scream echoed in your skulll, your own scream, thankfully entirely in your mind. He was so cute. So soft. He looked so worried, you wanted to rip him to pieces with affection. Was that possible? You were going to try.
Your hands fumbled over his belt, the tremble in your fingers making the pants button feel like an aptitude test. Your mouth returned to him, kissing down his cheeks and into the space under his jaw. Finally you could slip your hand down into his pants, and you hissed without thinking.
He was painfully hard, throbbing head pressed into his skin. Your own cock twitched under your robe at the feeling.
Did you do this? Had you gotten the King like this with just a question and a kiss? Tip nearly purple with pressure, you rested your forehead on his collarbone and watched his stomach jump as you wrapped your fingers around it.
Alastor fought back a laugh, tongue nearly cut clean off with the attempt. This was better than he had expected. And he had just the idea to push it over the top.
When your head dipped to swipe your tongue over Lucifer’s cock, you both startled at the sudden sound of music. First you looked to the radio, then to Alastor.
One hand was loosening his bow tie, the other unbuckling his pants. 
“Don’t stop on my accord,” he bit his bottom lip, watching your attention return to Lucifer’s lap. 
Lucifer raised a finger in protest, “I wasn’t aware this was a group activity.”
“The more the merrier.” Alastor whipped his belt off and tossed it to the floor, other hand pulling his member free.
“Three’s a crowd.” 
“Two heads are better than one.” When Alastor lifted your robe away and sunk himself into you, hole soft and ready for him already, you moaned into the blonde hair at the base of Lucifer’s cock.
Your breath over his shaft and now down his balls made his hips buck against you. Your hands gripped at Lucifer’s thighs, trying to get steady enough to return your mouth to his waiting heat. You could smell his arousal, your head dizzy with so many of your senses being assaulted by both men. 
“You okay, kitten?” A concerned hand came to your cheek. 
Your watery, lust clouded eyes met his, “It feels so good, Luci.” His dick jerked. When you finally managed to get him in your mouth his head fell back, legs under him twitching with the need to move along to the bobbing of your head. Lucifer was wider than Alastor, the corners of your mouth burning as you tried to take in as much of him as possible. 
Alastor’s hand raked long nails down your back, a whine ran from your throat and down Lucifer’s shaft.  He moaned in turn, trying to not connect the dots between himself and Alastor.
“I think you may need a little demonstration, from someone more–, “ Alastor leaned down, his face now inches from Lucifer’s. His hand wrapped around your neck, “experienced.” He pulled you up by your throat.
Lucifer watched, your knees no longer touching the bed as Alastor fucked up into you. One hand gripping your throat, one arm holding your body against his. Your face began to redden, and your thighs noticeably clenching as best they could, legs open and feet on either side of Alastor’s body. Your cock hard and bouncing with every thrust. Lucifer winced, you looked pained, he wanted—
“Aa--Alastor,” Your voice was like honey, thick and sweet around Alastor’s name. Lucifer’s face fell flat, how could he have that? What did he need to do to have you say his name in such a debauched way? Why did that gangly sack of bones get all of the fun?
“See? He can handle more than you’d expect.” Alastor grinned, planting a kiss on your neck. You could see Lucifer watching through your wet eyelashes, his cock twitching repeatedly as his hand finally came down to touch himself. 
With the hand not holding onto Alastor’s wrist at your throat, you reached out for Lucifer. “Luci.” 
Alastor let you fall forward. Keeping your hips in the air and knees dangling just above the comforter, he continued his rough pace into your tight heat. Pulling your body on and off of his length with harsh drags he watched you lick from the base to the top of Lucifer’s member. Each thrust from him knocking your chin against it. 
When you popped the head back into your mouth and moaned around it from Alastor’s continued fucking, Lucifer gripped your hair with both hands. Alastor’s own erection jumped in you, the king of hell himself buckling from his dearest’s mouth. He could break him entirely by just pulling you off of Lucifer’s cock and refusing to return you. He was positive Lucifer would cry into his ruined orgasm if he did such a thing.
Tempting.
But, he promised to play along, for you. And he would, at his own terms. 
He pushed aside the thought entirely, instead returning to the task in front of him. Your tongue was pinned down when Lucifer was in your mouth, cock too fat to allow any room for movement. You abandoned trying to suck him off, and changed tactics to lick and kiss the sensitive flesh in your hands. 
Lucifer’s mind was—- he wasn't sure where exactly. His consciousness splintered around you. The feeling of you; your tongue was swirling around him, the first contact he’s had other than himself in literal years. The sound of you; your soft moans and huffs were both audible and physical, the hot breath ghosting over him. The sight of you; head in his lap as he leaned back, your ass in the air and making a satisfying slapping noise every time– 
Alastor. His eyes met Lucifer’s and a wicked grin took hold of his features. Lucifer could practically hear Alastor whisper across your body, ‘Watch this.’ Maybe Alastor had thought it, but he kept it to himself. 
Your hands began pumping Lucifer’s length while your body was slightly dragged away as Alastor backed up and let your knees find some solid ground again. 
Lucifer sat on his legs still, eyes flitting from between your face to the place you and Alastor connected. He could see Alastor disappearing inside you, and every intrusion had you gasping and mewling into the blankets. Your hand was still gently stroking him with outstretched arms, eyes clenched close.
Alastor smirked up at Lucifer, coming down over your back to reach around your body and find your dick, now pulsing under his hand. Immediately, you reacted. Legs squeezing together, hands stilling around your king’s cock. With a bite and lick to your shoulder blade, the radio demon set a bruising pace against you. That warmth in your core was spreading down as you felt him press against your g-spot with every kiss of his hips. 
You choked out his name, a chant Lucifer had never wanted to hear before now. How could you make Alastor’s name sound so delicious? He wrapped his fingers around yours on his dick and began moving with you. Your eyes rolled up to him, a weak smile forming before your orgasm made your face tighten. Alastor knew your body so well, bringing you to orgasm was like playing a well practiced song on the piano. Both required strong and fast fingers and a sense of rhythm. His hands working your shaft, fingers ghosting over your balls and head with every stroke up and down. 
With a few more deeper, shorter moves Alastor stilled, too. Your knees slid down as your hips sank into the bed, your own release sticky and already cooling under you.
Lucifer let your hand go limp, swallowing hard. He wasn’t ignorant to the way Alastor smiled at him as he reclined into the headboard, tucking himself back into his pants. 
“I have complete faith in you, for once.” Alastor teased Lucifer, hand motioning to your still limp body. His smile seemed to dare Lucifer, challenge him, to keep going even with Alastor’s release sitting pretty in you. 
Luci took a deep breath, steadying himself mentally, before pushing the hair from your forehead, “Hey there, kitten. What do ya need?”
With an uncharacteristic hunger in your eyes, you forced your line of sight up to him, “You, Luci.” Visibly shuddering, you sat up and brought your legs towards him, your knees touching each other in an odd display of shyness. Your hand felt at your entrance, Alastor’s seed just beginning to find its way from your relaxed and stretched hole. 
“Is it okay?” You asked, spreading the thick fluid between your fingers in front of Luci. 
Something between a grimace and a pout came over him, it wasn’t his ideal situation but the idea of — just how much he’d slip and slide in and out of your with the added lubrication made him feel feral. He wasn’t stupid, he knew Alastor hoped to ruin you and sour his experience. He decided to not allow it. 
With a kiss to his nose, you wrapped your arms around his neck and lied back. You weren’t sure you were breathing anymore when you felt his scorching head slot up with your entrance. He rubbed the leaking fluid over himself and you with swipes up and down your ass, teasing your entrance with every pass. The difference between his heat and the cooled cum made him shiver in turn. 
As he began to press into you, your body instinctively scooted away. It took both of your hands hooked under his arms to stay still enough for him to make any real headway. 
Luci stopped, your face clearly pained. Your head shook in response, “Please, you just have to keep going. I’ll adjust.” While both of his heads swelled with pride – Alastor’s cock clearly smaller – Luci didn’t notice the wild eyes of the radio demon. 
Alastor brought a hand to his face, red eyes peering between his spread fingers, smile threatening to break at the seams as he watched Lucifer Morningstar fucking his cum into his darling dear. 
 What a pitiful sight. How humiliating.
What would Charlie think of her big bad daddy? What would the other sins say? If they could see their king now, slick and shiny?
Your nails cut into his skin, and you were worried you were tearing slightly. Instead of attempting to thrust his way in, he chose to just continually press. The way your body seemed to be splitting made you second guess your decisions. But when his head finally popped in, your bullied boy cunt got some reprieve. He stopped, taking deep breaths. 
Tears were collecting on your waterline, Luci noticed and leaned on an elbow to wipe them away. His blonde hair was falling forward now, tickling at your forehead. 
You nodded, answering a question he didn’t ask, and he continued to force your walls open to accommodate him. The only sound in the room was the soft instrumental jazz number playing from atop the dresser. Your voice was stuck in your throat, Luci was focusing too hard to form words. Alastor could speak, but the music was just too enjoyable to interrupt. 
Finally, after what could have been two minutes or twenty, you felt Luci bottom out. You had to just lie there for a second, never having felt something so solid in your otherwise soft body. No slight to Alastor, who was perfectly skilled in his abilities. Luci was just—- more than you had expected. 
As he pulled out, you thanked the heavens and hell and the rings within that Alastor had left you so wet and already softened. The first few thrusts were genuinely uncomfortable, the pleasure you felt almost entirely mental, drawn from the reality of who was pulling your insides back and forth. You were so tight around him that he too was almost pained; so much pressure but no way to move enough to get any release.
Slowly, the ring of your entrance relented and Luci could finally move at a normal pace. He would take himself out to his head before slipping back in. Every thrust made your body spread around him, a semi-truck through a field of sunflowers. Your body didn’t stand a chance, and you were grateful he chose gentleness for his entrance.
He leaned back on both hands, using the position to fucked up into you at an angle. He knew very well where to hit to begin gathering your pleasure.
Alastor dropped his head, yours between his legs. His hair made a short curtain, hiding the look he was giving you from Luci. He adores the faces you make when you are happy. Excited. Pleasured. You tried to offer him a smile, but you couldn’t manage it for long. Your eyes would roll back, lips tighten as you focused on the feeling Luci was providing. Focused on the sensations, of being so full, so sticky wet, so wanted. But Alastor was still watching, the sight of Luci blocked from his view as he enjoyed every little twitch of your mouth, every whimper. 
It wasn’t jealousy, it was something more personal that stung Luci. While he couldn’t actually discern the looks you two gave each other, Luci felt very much the odd man out. But, he considered his position. Literally. He was leaning as far from your body as he could. He remembered the way you said Alastor’s name. Alastor had showed him exactly what to do, albeit in his usual obnoxious, showy fashion.
Sitting up, Luci adjusted your legs and slotted himself between them. Alastor leaned back, relinquishing your focus. Both of you looked at Luci though as one of his hands came to enclose your throat.
Alastor was almost impressed. Almost. You brought both hands to wrap around his wrist, glancing to Alastor behind you.
The words came out of Alastor as half warning, half instruction, “If he needs you to stop, he’ll tap two fingers twice on you, wherever he can reach.” Lucifer nodded, eyes not meeting Alastor’s. He kept them on your face, watching for any sign of distress as he tightened his grip. The way your muscles clenched around him earned you a hiss.
He began to move again, the new position causing his stomach to rut against your returning erection as he buried himself in you. More clenching; He tightened his grip more. 
“Are you sure he isn’t hurting?” Luci asked, your eyes closed and nails digging into his wrists.
“Nonsense. Can’t you feel him? Or does he just grip me like that?” The cocky expression made Luci unconsciously clench his fist on your neck. A gentle tap tap snapped him back to you. He loosened up again, his eyes large and apologetic.
You unconsciously tightened your own grip on his dick, grinding up into him for more friction. Your body had finally relaxed, pleasure freely flowing from where you and Luci tangled together. You closed your eyes, the pressure constant on the veins to your head. Blood flow restricted just enough to lower your oxygen levels and raise the nitrogen oxide in your body. It resulted in a dizzying feeling, maybe there was a primal panic that caused your body to feel heightened pleasure. You didn’t feel scared, or in danger. You felt —— ah there it was. You felt weak. You felt docile. You felt like you existed purely to give pleasure and the idea turned you on. In every day life you’d never allow someone to use you, to push you around. You were anything but subservient. That’s why it was so enthralling now. It was so strange a sensation. And to give yourself so fully to the king of hell, the originator of all sin? You groaned, head rolling back. 
Luci watched your head loll, drank in your groans and gasps and felt himself get dizzy too. More. Say his name like you did Alastor’s. Praise how well he fucked you. Reward him. Love him.
He pulled out suddenly, his head leaving you for the first time since it managed to fit in initially. Luci put both hands on your hips and directed you to roll onto your stomach. He pulled your ass up, knees bent. You crawled up enough to rest your forehead on the crook of Alastor’s leg, one lazily outstretched and the other bent under him slightly. Luci wasted no time pushing back in. He leaned over you and pressed his hand into your back, forcing your chest to be slightly crushed into the bed. He pulled out and slammed back into you, tearing a yelp from you as he hit deeper than he had before, stomach lurching into your chest with the impact.
He stopped, unsure, until he felt your hand reach under yourself and rest at the junction of his knee and calf. His other hand came to your right hip, and he used it to keep you from sliding up the bed. Letting his eyes close again, he focused on the feeling of you around him. His crotch and thighs were covered in oil and cum, his balls tight against him. Every drag out of you made his body jerk back into you with need. It felt so good, too good. He needed more. He pressed hard into you, oversized tip of his cock opening parts of you never before reached. He made shorter thrusts now, ensuring he bottomed out every time. It was too deep, too much of a stretch. Your moans slowly devolved into screams, the pleasure mixed with a soft burning. 
You could feel him spreading open your body, soft walls helpless to resist his raging member. The feeling of your silky boy cunt sliding along his cock, your tight hole gripping him, was driving him mad.
You were screaming. Actual, pleasured screams, threatening to alert the entire hotel to your activities. Wails that started shrill and dipped into a gutteral cry filled the room with every thrust of Lucifer’s frenzied hips.
A tiny part of your brain felt embarrassed, a dying animal shrieking into Alastor’s thigh.
An ever shrinking part of Lucifer existed too, the piece of him too preoccupied with your two fingers on his leg to enjoy you. It got smaller and smaller, no longer a blockade to his pleasure, but a safety net allowing him to walk the tightrope of sadism.
The radio’s volume dial rolled, smooth jazz now blaring and drowning out your painfully pleasured cries. Alastor was fine with allowing someone to take care of your needs at his permission but strangers had no business enjoying your sounds.
As Luci became lost in the sensation of your body trying to suck him in whole, his hand on your back began to press down. Your breaths got shorter, it got harder to expand your lungs fully.
Face turned and drooling onto the fabric of Alastor’s pants, you started gasping out his name, “Luci! Nngh Luciiii, Lucifer.”
Your lips dropped his name and it fell like lead into his thoughts. He fought the urge to close his eyes again as he felt his orgasm building. He watched your flushed skin jump beneath every punishing thrust, his name a spell you could now barely whisper, not enough breathe to scream. Your upper body was entirely buried into the mattress. It felt like your back might snap with Luci’s loss of control. You kept your hand on his leg, ever ready to tap out.
The yellow of his eyes turned red, just like the skin of your ass where his hip bones chaffed. “You take me so well, kitten.” He ground out, “Daddy’s gonna cum.”
Alastor’s eyes glowed a blood red from the end of the bed, a wickedly devious grin across his face at the opportunity before him, he looked up at Luci and said with a commanding tone, “Cum.”
Luci was already over that peak when his eyes flew up to catch Alastor’s, it was too late to stop his orgasm. He was helpless to disobey, despite his now desperate desire to never cum again. With a moan, and a hiss, he pressed your body fully into the mattress. Your body now flush, he waited until his cock stopped jerking his long overdue seed into your bruised ass.
Luci lied on top of you even after you were full to the brim with his cum. It was already forcing its way out around his softening cock when he managed to roll off of you and onto his back.
Staring at the canopy of the bed, he felt two emotions rise to the surface. First, concern. He turned to you, and you gave a weak thumbs up.
Second, rage.
“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Fuck you.” He looked to Alastor, who was grinning as he pet your head, whispering something to you. 
“Little late for dirty talk, your highness.”
Lucifer growled, but Alastor’s palm pressed against his forehead and pushed him back down to the bed.
“I sleep on the left. I’d prefer you on the right.” he gently moved your head from his lap, “Beside me, my dear. A darling barrier.” Alastor didn’t look at Lucifer, just slid off the bed and walked into the en-suite bathroom. “No outside clothes under the comforter.” Alastor called from the bathroom before the sound of rushing water poured in.
You rolled onto your back, still catching your breath. Body sprawled out on the massive bed like a starfish.
Lucifer turned onto his side, hand caressing your arm. “Are you okay, kitten? I didn’t mean to lose myself like that.” He felt shame, like he had done something terrible. “And— I didn’t help you finish. That’s pretty shitty.”
But it fell away when you smiled back at him, “I feel great. Sore, but great all the same.” You let your fingers clumsily lace with his. “I really like you, Luci. And I don’t need to cum to enjoy myself. You can always try again, ya know?”
Lucifer felt his face grow warm, but couldn’t press you to clarify what exactly that meant before Alastor scooped you up and carried you to the bath.
There was a moment where he was alone, noticing the radio was back to a tolerable volume, the water splashing softly out of view. He felt out of place, like he had accidentally walked into a stranger’s home. He wasn’t sure what to do next, where to go from there when Alastor’s head popped back into the room, annoyed, “Are you coming or not? Those are clean sheets.”
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mayhemories · 1 year
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Neteyam x readers kids to lovers eventually, before WOTW bc I carnt handle his death
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Eywa, A Sign
Ohhh it kills me, I love this boy. He died for what? Pandora Jesus better resurrects him next time, or I will have words with Mr Cameron. Not sure if I did your request justice, hope I did <3 
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar) 
Requested: Yes | No
Warnings: None? Just straight fluff. Reader is an orphan trope/parental death. Mentions of death. 
Words: 1.58k
Author’s Notes: Neteyam is roughly 18/19 here, Reader is 18, Lo’ak and Kiri are 17, and my girl Tuk is still the same. Set before Way of the Water. 
Please note that the reader utilises she/her pronouns. If you’d prefer male or gender-neutral pronouns in fic I’m more than happy to repost a male or gn version of the story, otherwise include any pronoun preferences in the request box!
Read below the cut
Many Na’vi died following Toruk Macto. Either due to the impact of the battlefield violence or, their wounds upon return to their clan. Your parents, two brave Omatikaya warriors, died at the hands of the Sky People during a routine raid on supply shipments. 
Jake and Neytiri were quick to take you under their care, love and protection. Practically becoming one of their own. Being a few months younger than Neteyam and a year older than the twins, Kiri and Lo’ak, you slipped right in.
Jake was never afraid to reprimand you like you were his own, either. Like the time you were twelve, Lo’ak eleven:
“Now what did I tell you two?” Jake had you and Lo’ak lined up against the wall of the clan stronghold, sprung by the Olo’eyktan from the moment you came sneaking back in after curfew. 
“Don’t be in the forest after eclipse-” You and Lo’ak mumbled under your breaths, knowing that Jake wouldn’t let up.
“Yes! That’s right, don’t be in the forest after eclipse!” he said, exasperated, holding his hands above his head, dragging them down across his face. “And where were you two knuckleheads?” His face was annoyed, though his eyes were soft. We were his kids, god forbid anything happened to us. 
“Look dad (y/n) had nothing to do with it, it was all me-” Lo’ak started, but you finished,
“Sir, Lo’ak didn’t want to go, I wanted to go.” You and Lo’ak shared a small smile, he was your brother, through and through. 
Jake shook his head, hands on hips. 
“Go, go, both of you. Wash up.” He was stern, but as you two skxawngs ran past him you saw the gentle smile lay on his lips. 
As you got older you noticed Jake becoming harder and harder on his boys. For whatever reason Lo’ak almost gave up on pleasing Jake, felt like he could never be enough for him, a spec of dust compared to Neteyam’s glittering gold. Maybe that was why, why he was so impulsive and reckless, consistently. Any attention being good attention for Lo’ak. Regardless of his intentions, you liked that about him. He encourages your sense of adventure like a brother should, was always there to catch you when you fall. Neteyam and Lo’ak were different sides of the same coin, both living to please Jake in one way or another. Jake saw himself in Lo’ak and that scared him, you knew that,
But Neteyam…shit, Neteyam. 
You always saw Neteyam differently. As kids, he felt too cool for you to be around. This developed over time as you, yourself developed. As you felt awkward and out of place in your body, tail giving away every thought and feeling, Neteyam got taller, got broader, got sweeter. As an awkward teenager, your little soft spot evolved into a full-blown crush. You kept it under wraps sure, Lo’ak teasing you here and there but he never thought anything serious of it. Shit, you tried not to think anything of it. He was the future Olo’eyktan, he was the future of the clan. 
Now, freshly eighteen you were considered a woman: A relatively fierce Ikran rider, bow made from wood of the tree to replace the Hometree that was lost to the Sky People, a hunter. You surpassed any ritual trail of clan-life easily, save for one. Save for probably the most important one. 
Finding a mate. 
So, here you were, kneeling on the beautiful deep green moss surrounding the base of the Tree of Voices. The tree was glowing purple, fading to a light pink and back again, streaks of white travelled up and down the tendril of the tree, where you’ve made the bond. The hum of the ancestors created a white noise in you mind, helping to create a true vision. Praying to Eywa always gave you a sense of calm, like all anxieties were being blown right through your body, energy settling itself back into the world. 
“My dear All-Mother Eywa, I come to you now for guidance, for advice.” You started, clamping your eyes shut to encourage any kind of vision, so that you may see into the realm beyond that of physical sight. 
Neteyam knew it was wrong, to listen to your private prayers with Eywa. But he did not make a move to leave his advantageous spot, hidden amongst trees and rocks, he could watch you freely. His whole life felt like it revolved around you, and your alluring presence, strong heart, strong mind. 
Neteyam officially became a man the year prior, it was expected of him as the future clan leader to have already chosen a woman. And, in some ways he had. It had always been you, it was always you. Neteyam loved you, and it was never as a sister as Lo’ak has. When you were children you would play family. Neteyam was the dad, you the mum, Kiri and Lo’ak the kids. Neteyam knew from a young age that he didn’t want to play family with anyone else. 
He assumed Neytiri always knew, too. She never pressured him in claiming a mate, or even talking about it. Jake, well he was less switched on when it came to Neteyam’s shy nature. He was always pestering Neteyam about it-
Jake had flown Neteyam and himself to a floating mountain so that him and his first born son could speak freely: “Look, I’m not even saying you have to mate straight away! But at least court someone Neteyam, you’re the future of this clan-” Jake started, but for the first and last time in his life, Neteyam cut his father off.
“I am waiting for (y/n)!” Neteyam yelled, holding the bridge of his nose, anticipating that Jake would come back with a raised voice as he most often did. It did not come. Instead Jake closed the distance between him and his son, wrapping his arms around his beautiful baby boy, who wasn’t a baby anymore. Neteyam loosened, wrapping his still lanky arms around his father. With his chin resting on Neteyam’s head, Jake chuckled:
“Well then, wait for her as long as you need.” 
“I love her.” Neteyam admitted quietly. 
“I know you do, kid.” 
Neteyam shook the memory from his mind, and focused back on your kneeling, praying figure in front of him. 
“My mother Eywa, what am I to do?” You felt exasperated, lost. “I… I am afraid that the one I love does not love me Eywa.” 
Neteyam’s chest tightened, although he always knew it was a possibility that you may not want him, he tried his hardest swaying anyone else’s decision in the matter. The glares he had sent to all the young na’vi during their teen years, and at your own ceremony of womanhood, Neteyam made it clear with growls and possessive hovering that he was waiting for you. Although, maybe he could’ve made it clearer to you. 
“Great Eywa please, please show me a sign that Neteyam and I will be named mates.” you whispered, scared to admit his name in the scenario, aloud. 
Neteyam felt like he could vomit. He slowly approached you, kneeling beside you, as if he were beginning to pray, himself.
You could feel his heat, his being as he sat down, you didn’t need to open your eyes to confirm. Besides that, you could feel all the blood drain from your body and rush back up to your cheeks and ears. Clearing your throat, you decided that this was a good a sign as any. 
“Neteyam” You opened your eyes, his beautiful warm honey ones already locked on your face, “how much of that did you hear?” 
Neteyam hung his head in shame, shaking some of his braids from their resting places, blood rushing to his cheeks. 
“I am so sorry, I know I shouldn’t have listened to your private words spoken with Eywa.” Neteyam spoke softly, like he always did with you. “But I could not help it, especially knowing you have not chosen a mate yet.” Neteyam spoke around a lump in his throat, “I needed to know why.” 
Your mind was rushing a million miles per minute. But fake bravado was something that Lo’ak taught you, and something you could hide behind.
“You know, you haven’t chosen anyone either. My ceremony was last week, yours was last year.” You said, catching his eye again, with a slight smile on your lips. Neteyam laughed. Shit, you loved that sound. You could die happy now, hearing his laugh. 
“I have chosen,” your stomach dropped at his words, though sensing your anxiety Neteyam wove one of his hands with yours, and pinned you to the spot with his warm eyes. “I just had to wait a year for her to choose me too.” 
And all at once it felt like Eywa had breathed life into you, and Neteyam. Like your soul was made of milk and honey and you were going to flow on forever. 
You kissed him, your hands cupped his beautiful face, his slender fingers settling on your waist, nestling between beads and cloth. 
He came out of the kiss laughing, needing air. You let out a laugh too, keeping your foreheads together. 
“I see you.” You whispered, still scared that if you speak too loud this dream will dissipate into the colours of Pandora’s jungle, floating away from you entirely. 
“I have only ever seen you,” Neteyam said, smiling. His silver freckles set alight from the glow of the Tree of Voices. 
Happiness was simple.
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togegiri · 3 months
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✎ᝰ ❛ PORT MAFIA'S GUIDE TO BE A HOUSEHUSBAND! ❜ — dazai osamu. chuuya nakahara. akutagawa ryunosuke.
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౨ৎ⋆˚。⋆ content. A simple guide on being a good househusband created by the port mafia members or should I say ex-port mafia member.
₊˚⊹ ᰔ warnings. gender neutral reader. you/your and they/them pronouns is used. (name) will be used. tooth rottening fluff. there maybe some grammar mistakes. suggestive in dazai's parts. ( 3.5k words. )
note. I had fun writing this I hope you all will like it!
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— THE SPOILING TYPE. 太宰 治 | dazai osamu.
[ “welcome home my darling~ lookie look, I didn't burn down the kitchen! our neighbor lent us her recipe for the castella cake you like, hehe aren't you proud of me? don't I deserve a reward, like a kiss! c’mon just a little for being a great husband for you~” ] 
You two met when you saw him terribly injured due to one of his missions. You first tried to stop his wounds from bleeding but the brunette haired man stopped you glaring and interrogating on what you were doing to him. You, being an honest citizen, said you wanted to help him. Reluctantly he let you help him, still suspicious of you. 
Though his suspicion stopped once you stopped his bleeding and helped him tend to his injuries. He's grateful for that and because of this he formed a friendship with you even though it was small. Due to this small interactions and many more in the past years you two have become a loving husband and lover. He still remembers the day you two met. 
He remembers it was a dark night yet in his words, an angel came and saved him. Exaggerating the events that has followed making you chuckle awkwardly everytime a stranger asked as they are met with this lovesick buffoons rambling about how amazing their lover is. 
After a few months of being married you worry about his job in the port mafia thus leading him to quit his job and become a full time husband for your sake. Living in a small apartment, being with you almost 24/7 and a shining ring in his ring finger that indicates you two will be together till death do you two apart made him the happiest man there is. 
Although he's good at loving you unconditionally, spoiling you with his kisses, and making you laugh through your everyday life, he's quite a terrible cook. You still remember the time he almost burned down the kitchen for trying to cook a curry. Also the time he accidentally burned himself. 
“Ouch ouch ouch!” the curly haired male said, touching his small burnt hand. You looked at him in worry as his eyes formed small tears in the corner, “oh, osamu I told you it was hot,” you scolded him as he pouted at this. “I'm sorry,” he sulked, making you chuckle, “cmon put your hand on the water,” he does as you were told.
“ne ne since I injured myself don't I get a kiss to make it feel better~”
“don't tell me you purposely did that just to get a kiss,”
“I could never do that~” 
He put a innocent front making giggle at his silliness, “still a no,” 
“Oh cmoooon~” 
What a whiny husband you have. 
Although sometimes he purposely injures himself just for you to kiss him better. In other chores he's quite good at, sweeping, wiping the windows, killing a cockroach, and many more. He especially loves it when its shopping day or your day offs because he get to have more time with his darling lover. 
Whenever you two are shopping together he already has a coupon for everything you buy. Solely because while you are out at your job he's out in the store looking for coupons or he's talking to your neighbors.
Your neighbors quite love your husband as they tell you how lucky you are for having a loving and handsome husband and a gentleman to boot too. He always talks to them like a gossipy housewife knowing all the tea in the neighborhood because of that.
Due to having good relationships with the neighbors. Everytime he asks for help on something such as cooking, or chores. A Lot of people are glad to help him or aid him with his problem. He also likes to talk to you about any recent gossip in the neighborhood. He always gets the bath ready whenever its almost time to get home. 
He will be pouty and sulky if you don't get home in time like you usually do. Running ahead to you once he hears the key clanking and hugging you tightly. You chuckle at this, apologizing to him for working a little bit late. 
“Sorry, I had to work a little bit late,” you awkwardly hugged him back as he hugged you tightly. “Sorry isn't enough you know, I missed you,” osamu nuzzled onto him inhaling your scent as you pat his head.
“I'm sorry,” you patted his head as he smiled, “you have to pay for it in bed tonight so get ready~” 
“w- wait osamu I still have work tomorrow,” 
“Sounds like a you problem~” he smiled cheekily at you as he peppered your face with kisses. You felt your whole face hot as you sigh at this, “fine,” he giggled cheekily. 
He loves spoiling you with food or anything particularly. Because of him being an ex-mafia he has enough money to cost him for life. He could've easily bought a mansion for you but he quite likes the small apartment you two live in. 
Whenever he's out shopping on his own he loves to buy the pretty clothes, or accessories his lover would like. He would secretly put all the gifts in your closet or anywhere you would first see it. He then would go on a rant about how you would look pretty on it once you ask what it is for. 
He loves making you bento's although some of his cooking sometimes looked half burnt or not even cooked well yet. Yet you still eat because it's from your husband. 
He will worship the ground you walk on and will do as you ask. He's like a lovesick puppy following you. His love for you will never falter so just come home and be in his arms where he will give you all his love, make you laugh, and feed you warm food even though it's half bad he hopes you'll like it. Afterall to be a househusband is to be able to make your lover smile and not make them cry a single tear. That is dazai osamu's motto.
His very own way of being a good househusband. 
“Welcome home darling~ would you like dinner? bath? or me~” He greeted you with a smile as you chuckle at this, the brunette male giggling as he saw you, “I made dinner and also baked castella its kinda half burnt though, you dont mind right,” 
“if it's from my husband I don't mind,” you said kissing his cheek, the ex mafia smiled at this. “Good! cmon cmon lets eat, I bet your starving my dear,”
— THE WORRYWART TYPE. 中原中也 | nakahara chuya.
[ “Why did you come home 10 minutes late? Nevermind that, are you hurt? Does your shoulder hurt, your back? want a message, or do you wanna go bath first? or do you wanna eat dinner first? I bought pudding for dessert, worried? of course I'm worried jeez, just go get a bath you stink,” ] 
The classic worrywart type, he worries about every move he does and every move you make, making you sigh in defeat at your husband. The two of you met as cliché as any shoujo manga, under a rainy day and seeing him passed out and injured. Being a good citizen you brought him to your home and tended him. Once he woke up he seemed to have a fever prolonging his stay at your house. Delirious due to his fever he seeked the warmth of your hands. The gentle fleeting touches you give him those days of his illness. 
The day he became not so delirious he became flustered at his past actions saying in a forceful tone to forget about those events. Without knowing it, you two became friends, then lovers, to a happily married couple. Figuring his job is filled with too much violence that may lead you to getting used by his enemies. He simply quit and became a full time househusband in your dainty little home. 
He gives you everything he thinks is best, that's the reason why you two have diamond rings, his love for you is like a diamond, never breaking and always shining. Whenever he feels lonely he kisses the ring placed on his ring sighing as he stops himself from calling you afraid that he'll bother you mid work.
He's quite the best cook too. He makes those perfect bento, neatly done and cooked right by yours truly. He also made those cute character bento like my melody and many more. Once he hears from you that you loved it he heart will swell from pride as he gives you a cocky smirk and the saying, “of course it is good, I'm your husband that means nothing but the best should be given to you.” 
He's quite strict at making your bento, the kind of husband who will make a good diet of your bento. He also memorized all your favorite desserts, food, vegetables, fruit, and what scent you like many more too. He wants the best of the best for you so he'll go all out for it. 
Even if he hides it, he does miss you every time you have to leave for work. Putting on a strong front which you can easily see as he hurries you to leave for work already.
“Did you bring your umbrella? the news said it'll rain you know,” the ginger haired male said as he stood near the door as you put on your shoes, “Yes I did,” he nodded at this.
“What about your bento? Do you have it?” you chuckle at his questions, “Yes I do,” he furrowed his brows seeing your tie crooked, “your tie is crooked wait a minute,” he goes closer to you fixing it loosening it a bit. 
“There, jeez your hair is still messy too,” he sighs at this taking a comb thats hidden in his pocket combing your hair, “there, now go before you get late,” you giggle at him as you began to step near the door as he then took your wrist. Stopping you as he forced you to look back at him kissing you in the lips softly. This caught you by surprise as he took off his lips to your own.
“Have a safe trip,” he says, a small blush coating his cheeks making you smile at him, “Thank you darling.” 
Although he's quite a worrywart and always on you about everything. He has his soft sides too. How he shamelessly shows you off around the neighborhood by his words. At first he was quite cold to them, not speaking a single word only giving them a few answers if they asked him to. 
Although when they started asking questions for his lover he became a little bit ecstatic talking to them showing off how amazing their lover is. Slowly everyone in the neighborhood grew to like him because of this. The auntie's around your simple house were always glad to help you two out on anything. Although you were more on the chattier side your husband was more on the silent side speaking when spoken to. 
He prefers making things for you to show his appreciation. While he does like spoiling you with his riches. He loves it when he,  the things that make you happy. Thus the reason why he took crocheting as a hobby. 
Like dazai, he loves it when it's the weekend because it means your day off and that means he gets to spend more time with you. Which always consists of you two baking, you learning how to crochet to get closer to your husband. You are making him learn more about your hobbies. 
He loves physical affection although quite a tsundere when he's the one asking for it thus him leading to be more on the acts of service type of guy. 
“No that's not how you do it,” you stopped your movements as chuuya pointed out the wrong way you crochet. He goes closer to you as he smiles showing you how it goes, “its like this,” you nodded your head.
“I see, thank you chuuya,” he smiles blushing a little, “welcome and..uhh..d- dont I deserve a reward for that?” at his bold words your eyes widen smiling as you gave him a kiss in the cheek making him huff in pride. 
He's very good at giving you messages, that's why he likes doing them. He loves it when there is a 50% off sale while he is rich from his former job. Nothing beats the feeling of having a 50% off. 
He's a soft man at heart he just builds cold walls that may take time to burn down. Thus the reason why he worries for you a lot. Being a househusband means ensuring your health and keeping you comfortable in this simple life of husband and lover of yours. That is Nakahara Chuuya's motto on being your house husband.
“I'm hooomeee,” you announced feeling drowsy and tired as chuuya walked towards the door looking at you worried, “welcome home, is everything okay? Do you want a massage? Does anything hurt?” 
You smile at him seeing his usual worrywart and dotting self to you, “yeah, I'm fine just tired from work, my shoulder hurts a little bit though,” he smiles, “cmon lets go dinners ready and your bath is ready too, I'll massage you once your done with your bath.”
“your the best,”
“hmp, I know that,” he huffs as you chuckle, “I love you,” 
“I love you too.”
— THE PROTECTIVE TYPE. 芥川 龍之介 | akutagwa ryunosuke.
[ “Did you take overtime again? How many times have I told you to not do that? Do I have to come to work and punch those scumbags to not make you work too much? hmp! its not violence it's about just teaching them a lesson,” ] 
Another classic nagging wife-like of a husband. The first time you two met was a rocky start with him trying to kill you solely because you were tending his injuries you hated how bratty he was saying he doesn't need any help but ended up passing out in your arms. You sigh at his stubbornness and tend to him for the past few days he was unconscious. You knew he was a mafia due to his all black get up and bloody clothes. 
Yet helped him anyways because you just wanted to help him, it took time for him to open up and slowly burn down his tough walls. At Least 3 months of you two being ‘acquaintances’ to becoming ‘friends’ you chuckled at the times he was being cold to you. 
It took a lot of time till you two became lovers to the now husband and lover. Happily married and a small home in a small neighborhood. He's an alright cook, he's not good at it but he takes his time to learn things on cooking via cooking lessons by the neighborhood auntie's who graciously lend him a hand. 
He's popular with them because of how they thought he was an adorable husband for you. Although quite cold towards them the auntie's doesn't mind as they still coo at him. To be frank he didn't know how to be a good househusband.
He sucks at cooking, cleaning, and even being affectionate to you was a struggle for him. Though you didn't mind that, you let him learn at his own pace. Going to the neighborhood asking what laundry detergent is good for this specific fabric, how to iron clothes correctly, and many more.
“F- fuck… not again,” the raven haired male said furrowing his brows as he accidentally put too much force on breaking the egg that the shells wad put on the egg. He sighs as he takes another egg, breaking it not too hard, not too gentle, his eyes sparkle as he did it perfectly. 
“There,” he sighs as you look behind him, smiling and admiring your husband. He's so cute. Maybe you should give him something for always doing his best. 
The reason he quit being in the port mafia was because you like dazai and chuuya. He doesn't want to see you hurt and he especially doesn't want to see you being all worried and teary eyed to him. 
He hates messes, absolutely hates them and bugs too. He almost wrecked the whole house because he used his ability to kill a single cockroach who was flying and dodging his everymove. He was almost as his wits end at the single roach. 
While he has a lot of money due to being an exmafia he refuses to buy expensive ass vegetables and fruits that people overpriced in the mall. Every Time he's grocery shopping he's glaring at any overpriced vegetable, seasonings, etc. he lays his eyes upon. 
He doesn't like grocery shopping solely because he hates picking on which is far more good to have. This cabbage is nice but also this one too. Which should he choose? He always ends up thinking like that which makes him irritated. 
He furrow his brows looking at the two carrots, one in his right hand, seemingly with good color and quality, while the other is far more bigger and good quality. He glares at the carrots in his hands as the other people who feel his strong and intimidating aura.
Not to mention a man wearing all black with an apron and with his bitch face people start to back away in the vegetable aisle. 
Some people also misunderstand him there. How he was asking for the cornstarch flour but forgot what it was called asking the staff for the ‘white powder stuff' and the staff thinking it was cocaine. Thus the many reasons he hates grocery shopping. 
Just like Chuuya he is strict about your diet, he will go above and beyond for your bento's meals making sure everything is healthy there. He kind off has a grudge for electronic devices used for cleaning, like those small bots used for sweeping. 
When you bought that you swore he was about to start war on an inanimate object. He prefers cleaning in the old fashion way saying it's much cheaper and plus he cleans very good due to the neighbors teaching him about the many ways to clean your house. 
Speaking of cleaning because of the cleaning lessons the auntie's taught him in the neighborhood. He became a professional. Everytime you come home you swear your whole house was sparkling due to how clean it is. 
“Oh wow! you really outdone yourself dear,” you said in awe as you look at your spotless house making him huff in pride, “ of course, anyway go get a bath, dinners almost ready,” you nodded your head at his words as he forms a small smile at this. 
He hates it when you work overtime solely because he misses you and also hates it when you overwork yourself. 'If your work ends at 6:00 it ends at 6:00 okay? don't take overtime.' he says glaring at you, sending you off to work making you sweat drop at it. 
He spoils you with gifts while he was out shopping on his own. Passing by stalls and seeing things you might like and giving them to you directly without much of a word. He sucks at making things or being affectionate to you so he hopes these gifts will show how much he loves you. (Which is always expensive by the way, like diamond necklaces, Gucci bags, Prada things and many more.)
He sometimes calls you on work to see if you're okay and if you're doing alright, he can't help but worry for your safety and overall well-being. 
He once intimidated a coworker of yours because they were the sole reason you came home late for a whole week. He's awkward at it but he always tries his best to kiss you, hug you, and hold your hand. He still feels embarrassed for such things but he just needs time to get used to it. 
As for his motto, he truly doesn't know, he just wants to see you happy with him. Smiling only at him and being with him only. Does that count as a motto?
“You have everything you need right?” he asks standing near the door as you nodded your head, “of course,” he nodded, his eyes gazing away from you then back at you. 
You looked at him in confusion tilting your head to the side. As he took a step near you and closing the gap between you two. As his lips got in contact with your cheek. 
“Have a safe trip,” 
You smile at him, “thank you dear, I will,” 
“And don't take overtime got it?”
“Haha! I will not, see you,”
He huffs in pride, the color red coating his face. 
'I can't believe I kissed them like that,' thoughts of a man who has been married to you for years. 
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henrioo · 5 months
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I'm the only guy who uses masculine pronouns who gets really pissed off when he reads a fanfic and it says GENDER NEUTRAL, so when you read it you simply find what
"Girlfriend" "My girl" "My woman" "Mama"
Like, bitch doesn't matter if you're using a neutral pronoun, the moment you use a feminine pronoun stop being a gender-neutral reader
But I think this only gets worse in smut fanfics
The person goes there and puts GENDER NEUTRAL AFAB READER
So if you're a person with afab who isn't cis, wow, a fanfic with my genitals but neutral pronouns so I don't have dysphoria or feel uncomfortable!
And guess what? Again you will find it there
"good girl" "my girl" "my woman" "my girlfriend" and blah blah
Look man, let's be honest, do you want to write solely for female and Afab readers? Okay, it's your right! You can do this completely at will and with a clear conscience
But for god's sake! DON'T PUT ON THAT YOU'RE A FUCKING GENDER NEUTRAL READER IF YOU'RE GOING TO EVENTUALLY USE FEMALE PRONOUNS
THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS, IF YOU WANT TO USE FEMALE PRONOUNS JUST SAY IT'S A FUCKING FEM READER, IT WILL SAVE US READERS WITH MALE OR NEUTRAL PRONOUNS FROM READING THIS
That's it, my outburst of personal hatred and at the same time an extra determination to write more male reader
Because besides having a lot of fem content, it seems that the creators who try to make it gender neutral are too stupid to understand how gender and neutral pronouns work
Just say it's a FEM reader, you're not gonna die if you do this asshole
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