#afab Masc Reader

[bi-lil-guy]

Guys, Horrendous News In Transville. I Can't Find The One Meme Of Kid Snapping Killer "Our Boyfriend's On His Period, What Pussy Size Is He Again?" And I Don't Think I'm Gonna Recover.

[killmeprettypleasee]

𝐔𝐧𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

Imagine── Skipping in the woods going to your grandmother's house to accompany and give her these cookies your mother made for her.

While you navigated through the woods you were met with a big wolf,, his gaze scare you causing you to jerk back and fall on your butt, your basket fell and the cookies cracked inside, its crumbs scattering on the dirt floor.

The wolf looked down at you and apologies immediately,, despite his scarred scary face he was actually kind hearted!

He promised to make it up to you──

Now you were on the ground with your ass up and chest pressed to the ground.

His cock pistoning in and out of you, his knot teasingly pressed against your hole causing you to shudder.

"I hope you're- h-having a good time.. fuh-fuck.. agh~ you're so tight pretty boy!"

He would let out little grunts against your ear as he whispered dirty words against your ear, calling you a good boy while he breeds your little boy pussy.

And after that, he walked you to your grandma's house without the cookie basket and with your ass and pussy leaking uncomfortably with his seed underneath your garments.

✁__________________________________

[vifilms]

eighteen+, mdni.

jock!abby who plays soccer is so head-over heels in love with you, but she promises to keep what you have going just between the two of you. ellie’s your best friend and the two of them can’t stand each other but two months ago at some stupid frat party, too many beers and three joints later abby was eating you out like her life depended on it. you were too high, and she was too drunk but god was she fucking you so damn good. strong arms pinning you to the edge of the bed, as her mouth sucked on your bundle of nerves, before she would let go, letting her tongue soothe over your clit and you moaning her name like a prayer in the process.

jock!abby talks you through it the entire time, and she’s so stupidly pretty with her blonde locks falling over her face like a golden waterfall. her blue eyes are so dark, they’re almost gray and then she has two fingers inside you. they’re thick and long and she’s reaching places you can’t. still, her words making you whine over and over, your hips moving uncontrollably but she pins them down with her brute force.

“Yeah, baby, I know how good this feels. I’m so fucking wet right now from this pretty pussy. You taste so good, baby. I could just eat you up forever. Want me to stay here, crushed by these pretty thighs of yours?”

jock!abby nearly crumbles when she rubs her cunt on top of yours, clits nudging against each other as you practically scream. you know this won’t be the only time you stumble into her bed, you know the next time you’ll be completely sober because god, does abby know how to fuck. she finds a rhythm that’s good for the both of you and she takes control on top. abby can’t help but think about how perfect the two of you fit together, her thighs against yours but she needs a better angle. so, she lifts your leg and places it on her shoulder and you want to come right there.

jock!abby can hear your sweet slick against her, her thighs, god it’s everywhere. she wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve dripped to her sheets, not that she minds. she’s fucking you so hard and you can feel a shiver run down your spine. you want to stay like this forever. her pussy feels so good against yours. you know this shouldn’t be happening. you shouldn’t be fucking ellie’s nemesis but god, the devil has never felt better.

“Be a good girl, baby. Come for me. I’m so close just need to feel your cum on me, need to feel it on my cunt. Please baby, show me how much you want this. Fuck, baby, right there. Yeah? Such a good fucking girl. Fuuucckkkkk.”

jock!abby comes with you, and your body jolts as you feel her slick stick to your swollen lips, it’s so messy and utterly fucking divine, sending both of you into pure euphoria. her biceps are so big, and she holds her weight as she devours your mouth with hers. her skilled tongue staking claim on you. fuck she feels exquisite and her wet pussy is still against yours and you never want her to move. all you want is her sweet, freckled face and the nectar you’re sure tastes delightful as honey, tucked between her thighs.

“You did so well, baby. Now, let’s see how good this pretty cunt takes my cock, huh? What do you think about that, gorgeous?”

[breathinlove]

fucking ellie with the strap ellie williams smut drabble

daily click to help palestine read this

cw: strap usage and min ass play? e!receiving, strap referred to as cock, not explicit if readers fem or masc, they're in love.

thinking 'bout... making ellie ride your strap until she gets tired and you coo “baby's tired? you tired, huh?” when you notice her going slower.

“mhmm… yeah” she whined, nodding. you hold her flushed face, mesmerized by her teary green eyes and freckled cheeks that were tainted pink.

she leans in to kiss you and you gently kiss her back but roughly thrust up into her to give your own clit attention again, making ellie moan against your lips.

“on fours, baby. come on.” you pull out, eyeing her puffy clit and stretched out cunt, helping her up.

she eagerly crawls on the bed, turning her ass to you as she holds her weight on her elbows and knees. she looks back at you with the sweetest smile and you just wanna make her cum.

you run your fingers along her back, making her squirm under you. you're pressed up against her, strap agaisnt her ass.

“jus’fuck me.” she reaches out for your strap, pushing it inside of her wet pussy. you smile at that.

“so needy for cock, aren't you?” she doesn't see it, but she can hear you smiling and she does too.

“yeah… need your cock.” she moans, pushing back on you, strap bumping harder on your clit. you moan back.

 “ohhh that's right, but let me do that for you, ‘kay?” you hold and kiss her lower back and her arches. you kiss lower and lower and she's clenching around your strap.

you spit down her ass before starting to thrust hard and slow. she hasn't stopped moaning, your thumb meets her spit wet asshole and you rub it. it's getting harder to thrust and you're soaked.

“tightest fucking pussy.” you grunt and slap her ass. she moans even louder and you can feel your clit throb.

you keep your pace, holding her waist and caressing her back. pleasuring her and yourself with every thrust.

“yesyesyes 'm close.” her arms dropped and her face pressed up against the mattress. “faster.”

“i got you.” and you're thrusting fast and hard, ellie's a moaning mess of ‘yes's. you feel yourself close to orgasm too.

“c-cumming.” she moans with a raspy and tired voice, she's gone

“yeah, cream my cock.” you moan, getting lost in the pleasure of your clit bumping against the base of the strap everytime you thrust into her.

you fuck her through her orgasm as she cums around your strap. you don't stop, chasing your own high that doesn't take long to catch up.

“f-fuck.” you moan, thrusting deeper and ellie lets out a pornographic moan.

the base of your strap meets her ass and you ride it, cumming against the strap and her ass. you pull out as you fall next to her, both your bodies sweaty.

she holds you, you two filling eachother's faces with kisses and eachother's ears with 'i love you's.

[sweetiesaccharine]

Human!Alastor x Spouse!Reader

Just to be clear, this is my first time writing Alastor so he might be very OOC💔 also English is not my first language so I apologize for any grammatical errors during this… happy reading! <3

Content: Smut, Reader is Afab but gender neutral, vaginal sex, biting, Kitchen sex, implied aftercare, Needy Alastor, might be OOC(?)

❗️MDNI❗️

You were home washing the dishes you previously used. Waiting patiently for your husband to finally come home from his work at the radio station.

As you were finishing it up you don’t notice the door unlocking, nor the hands that somehow slithered their way around your waist.

“Ah-!” You let out a gasp, “Alastor! I didn’t even hear you come in..” you say, a bit flustered by his sudden display of affection.

“I’m sorry, Dear.. I hope I didn’t frighten you.” He answers you, rubbing circles on your waist as an apology.

A giggle can be heard from you as blush starts to dust your cheeks from his simple display of physical affection,

“Hehe.. not at all, honey. Just a bit surprised you didn’t call out first or anything. How was work today?”

“Mmh.. it was alright, nothing out of the ordinary.” Alastor plainly responds as he moves one of his hands down the front of your body..

“Well I’m-“ you accidentally cut yourself off with a gasp as you feel his hand slither under your garments and down to your bundle of nerves.

“Alastor..? What are you d-.. doing?” You try to ask him as his fingers rub soft circles on your clothed clit. Your hand start to shake as you hold onto the cleaned plate you previously were washing.

You quickly put the plate down and your hands grip tightly on the counter in-front of you.

You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.. and suddenly you feel him grinding against your ass, His other hand is tightly gripping your hip. He dips a finger inside your wet hole, his thumb rubbing circles on your sensitive bud.

You can’t help but throw your head back against his shoulder as your legs start to tremble..

“A-… Alastor..” you manage to say his name, even though it’s very quiet due to your moans and whimpers suppressing your ability to create coherent words.

Alastor groans as you moan out his name and starts kissing your neck. He graces his teeth against the sensitive flesh before biting down harshly, making you yelp. He traces his tongue on the new bite mark on your neck.

Your legs almost give out on themselves but before you can even hit the floor Alastor’s hands quickly grab you and pull you up, placing you on the kitchen counter.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him as his hands make quick work of your bottoms, pulling them down and throwing them to the side to later clean up.

He sloppily unbuttons his pants just wanting so badly to feel your warm gummy walls around him. With a bit of work he manages to free his member from his pants and underwear before lining himself up with your entrance.

He looks into your eyes.. he looks so needy today.. his hair messy and face flushed.. just the sight of him alone is enough to make your cunt clench around nothing, Eagerly waiting for him to fill you up.

“Is.. this alright, my love?” He asks as he lovingly gazed into your eyes. His eyes filled with desire and admiration.

“Yeah…” you softly respond, pulling him in by the collar of his shirt to plant a heated kiss on his lips. He grabs your sides and slowly but surely pushes himself inside of your hole, Alastor let’s out a moan at the feeling of your gummy walls around his cock.

Your nails dig into the back of his white button up shirt as he starts thrusting into you in a slow pace to get you both used to the feeling.

When your husband starts speeding up his movement, you simply can’t help but grab his chin and kiss him. The feeling of his cock sliding out of your hole before he thrusts it back inside has your toes curling.

“You feel amazing, Mon amour… I’ve missed you so much..” Alastor softly whispers into your ear as his thrusts start getting sloppy, indicating that his climax is close..

You move one of your hands from a the vice grip on your husband’s shirt down to your tiny bud and you rub harsh circles on it, trying to get yourself close to your peak aswell.

A particularly harsh thrust manages to make the building knot in your stomach snap. Your orgasm quickly washing over you and Alastor following you right after, cumming deep inside of you, painting your inner walls white with his seed.

Both of your breathing is heavy as Alastor eventually pulls out after you both bask in the afterglow of your respectable orgasms.

Alastor moves one of his hands and grabs yours. Bringing the back of it up to his lips and kissing the pretty ring sitting on your finger.

“I love you, Alastor..”

“I love you too, Mon ange.. now, let’s get cleaned up..~”

Alastor purrs as he picks you up bridal style and begins to walk to your bathroom.. the dishes beside the kitchen counter now long forgotten.

[sloth-babied]

Just for a Few Minutes

Shuri x POC reader

Summary: In the midst of a mission, you and Shuri get stranded in space. Months later of failing to get back home, you catch her crying and try to make her feel better.

or

Reader is a touch-starved pathetic loser who Shuri takes an interest in.

Contains: Angst, hurt/comfort, shy reader, smut (18+), and a sprinkle of fluff.

Word count: 2.7k

Shuri’s been stuck at the wheel, stressing on getting back home. She hates this ship, if you can even call it that. It’s old and rusty. You’re surprised the ship hasn’t blown up yet.

You got used to the grumbling and shouting. It’s the same pattern over and over again, and it always ends with a dent in the metal wall or absolute silence: Shuri cheers, believing she’s tracked Earth’s location, then shouts profanities that you don’t understand when the janky ship randomly reroutes the coordinates.

All day Shuri sits in the cockpit, determined she’ll beat the ship at its ridiculous game, and you watch with crossed fingers each time. You often try to lend a hand, although she’s not very fun to work with when she’s angry.

And when she’s not angry, she cries. But only when she thinks you’re asleep. You’ll lay on your bed, back facing the rest of the ship, and glue your eyes on the wall, unable to sleep while she stifles her sobs either in the bathroom or her bed. 

Unlike Shuri, you didn’t have anyone to lose. Your teammates would tease you—call you a lone wolf. Unfortunately, they’re not wrong. 

Today, you hear the same quiet sniffling. 

You lay there, hesitant to move so she doesn’t know you’re listening. Or trying not to listen. But it’s hard not to when you’re a light sleeper. 

The benefit of being a light sleeper? No one can sneak up on you. 

The setback? Waking up to the only person you see every day cry almost every night.

However this night—or day, who knows really—is different. She doesn’t lay in the bed across from yours. Instead she sits in the cockpit, elbows on her lap and face buried in her hands.

Shuri’s body jumps when she hears the soft pads of your feet make their way over to her, but she doesn’t look at you. Maybe that’s for the best considering you have no idea what draws you to take the co-pilot’s seat. 

You’re unsure what to do. You rarely find yourself in a situation where you have to comfort someone, much less yourself. 

Looking straight ahead at the stars and distant galaxies, you speak. 

“I don’t miss anyone.” Wow. You’re already terrible at this.

Nonetheless, Shuri’s faintly head lifts, curious to hear where you’re going next.

You gulp, hoping you only say the right words.

“I mean, like, I don’t have anyone to, like, you know, miss. And there’s no one on Earth who’s, you know, missing me right now. Or looking for me for that matter. But I know that there are people searching for you.”

Shuri also looks ahead. “We’re galaxies away,” she states hopelessly.

“Which is probably why they’re taking so long,” you jokingly reply in an attempt to seem sensible.

You turn to Shuri, and the glint of hope that used to live in her eyes has gone, replaced with exhaustion.

“They’ll travel through those galaxies,” you hope to reassure her. “They will.”

You don’t even know if you believe that, though it doesn’t matter if you do or not as long as she believes it. 

For a minute, no one makes a sound before Shuri starts to whimper again.

An inaudible “woah” comes out of your mouth when you watch her conceal her face back in her hands. Mentally, you’re unsure how to react, which is ironic because your body somehow does: your bottom lifts off the seat and your arms make their way around the princess.

That’s what you do to make people feel better, right?

Her body stiffens and you scold yourself for being so hasty. You attempt to pull away and apologize before she snakes her arms around you, burying her head between your shoulder and neck. You stay there for a while, your knees on the hard floor as she soaks your shirt. 

You don’t say anything and she doesn’t need anything to be said. Silence is just fine.

You’re not used to offering affection, not even a simple hug. Its unfamiliarity makes you a little uncomfortable but you stay. She's the one who pulls away eventually. 

“Tired,” she says plainly.

You get on your feet and back up while she stands. The space between you and Shuri returns, mostly because of you. For you, really.

You attempt to shake off the odd feeling on your skin and in your chest as Shuri sits on her bed. She doesn’t tuck herself in though. She just looks at you.

You hate to say that the face she’s wearing seems familiar. It’s a face you’ve ignored on Earth. A face that wants something from you, but you don’t know what. Or you pretend you don’t know.

This time it’s different. You can sense what she wants, and like all the times before, you choose to ignore it, muttering a “goodnight” as you hurriedly walk to your bed.

“Wait.”

There’s no thought to it when your body halts. However, the anticipation flusters you.

It takes a second after you point your ear to her. You hear a heavy exhale leave her nose. 

“Can you…lie down with me?”

If you heard this on Earth, you’d simply tell her to go to sleep. At the moment you consider not even facing her again, but you regrettably turn your shoulder. And damn. There’s that face again–the inner corners of her eyebrows softly angled upward.

��Just for a few minutes,” she adds. 

Her eyes slowly glide away as she recognizes what she just requested. She wonders why she even asked you such a thing. She starts to shake her head, nearly retracting what she said.

“Sure,” you say. This is probably a mistake.

Your answer obviously surprises her. You don’t have that type of relationship to even lay together, let alone make any physical contact that wasn’t a pat on the shoulder.

You take up the little space left after Shuri scooches. She faces the wall and you lay on your back, unable to move freely. Even your leg hangs off the edge.

But you still can’t seem to shake off that feeling. 

It feels strange. Sort of awkward. But something about it also feels…nice, you think. You’ve never done this with someone. The thought of it was too foreign to even consider.

The version of you before would have cringed at the possibility of this happening. But this version of you–the one who has spent months stranded in space, building whatever connection you have with Shuri–doesn’t mind her back pressed against your arm. This version of you doesn’t mind how warm she feels next to you despite the spacecraft’s low temperatures.

You stare at the back of her head contemplating whether or not you should throw your arm over her waist. To comfort her, of course. 

No, probably not. 

Facing the ceiling again, you wait for Shuri to fall asleep until you hear sniffling again. You can’t solve sorrow with one conversation, can you?

“Shuri?” You whisper. She doesn’t respond. You turn over and place your hand on her bicep. “Shuri,” you try again.

You pull at her with no force and she rolls on her back, wiping her cheek. 

“Sorry,” she murmurs sheepishly.

“No, no,” you reach for her face. “It’s alright.”

She gives you full access, staring at you when you begin rubbing away as many tears as you can. You hit a point where her face is mostly dried up, but you don’t remove your hand. You both lay on your sides and you just keep cleaning.

Shuri reaches for your cheek, dragging the back of her hand up and down, mimicking your touch. Your eyes flutter shut, welcoming the new sensation.

She whispers your name.

You open your eyes. “What?”

God, that face.

“I’m gonna kiss you.”

Your hand pauses on her cheek. “Okay.”

She grabs your neck, pressing her lips to yours. And it feels…really good. Her lips are soft, but dry. She observes the same for your lips, but none of you actually mind.  

Oh man, is this what you’ve deprived yourself of all this time? You can’t get enough of this. You can’t get enough of her, especially when she tilts her head, kissing you deeper. She eagerly pushes you on your back and gets on top of you, hungrily molding herself against you. 

A moan escapes the back of your throat when her lips move to your jaw, trailing down. Her lips tingle down your neck, particularly when she rests there to mark your skin. 

You enjoy this feeling. The overwhelming state you’ve never allowed yourself to enter before.

Shuri lifts the hem of your shirt, snaking her hand under your pants. Your thighs instinctively open as she cups your pussy and your breath hitches when her thumb begins circling your clit.

Jesus, you’re sensitive. You’ve touched yourself here and there, but it never felt like this. 

You choose to look down and your arousal grows just by the disappearance of her hand beneath your clothing. She slides her middle finger between your folds and you dismiss her chuckles when she recognizes how incredibly wet you are. You’re too horny and touch-starved to even worry about it. 

She sits up, one hand at your pussy and the other next to your head. She inserts a finger and drags it out, continuing this motion as her thumb messily rubs your bud.

“You like it when I do this?” Oh, she knows you do.

“Yeah,” you mutter after she inserts her ring finger, staring at you writhe below her.

You turn away, squeezing your eyes shut. Your arm sits on your forehead, covering your eyes, but Shuri pulls the arm away from your face.

“Keep looking at me,” she commands softly.

As piercing as her eyes are, you do as she says and she rewards you by pumping faster. Your mouth opens, your breath quickens, and your hand grips her pillow and the other flies to her bicep, seeking to hold something. 

She hums, responding to your desperate whines; your wetness coating her fingers. She takes advantage of your parted mouth and consumes your lips, slipping in her tongue.

You can’t tell if it’s her fingers or her tongue that make you cum, but holy shit, who fucking cares at this point? Your body shakes and your hips lift involuntarily. And even better, Shuri continues to thrust in and out of you, gradually slowing her pace as your orgasm sends you into a disorientated state of ecstasy.

You pull away from her lips, catching your breath.

Shuri smirks. “You look pretty when you cum.” 

And you’re brought back down to…well, not Earth. With a groan, you cover your face, but only for a second, too keen to see an expression that wasn’t a frown on her face.

“I bet you’d look even better,” you sit up to kiss her. “Can you lay back?” 

She obeys, switching positions with you. You hope to appease her even though you don’t fully know what you’re doing. 

“Tell me what to do,” you rub her knee. “I wanna make you feel good, but I don’t know where to start.”

An inquisitive look appears on her face, processing what you’ve just told her. She leans up using her elbows to support her.

“Was that your first time?” 

You tilt your head side to side. “Sorta, yeah. I mean, there was this one girl a while ago, but she didn’t get…as far as you did.” 

You didn’t let her get as far as Shuri did, to be specific.

“Bast,” she gapes at you. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Please don’t make it awkward.”

She shakes her head. “I…Okay, yeah–no. I won’t.” The gears keep turning in her head to the point where she smiles to herself. “I’m your first?”

“Okay,” you murmur, shifting away from her before Shuri draws you back with your wrist.

“Don’t go,” she giggles. “That’s okay. I’ll guide you.” She pecks your lips. “I’m sorry.” She pecks your lips again. “We’ll go slow.”

You nod nervously.

“What do you wanna do, hm?” She caresses your cheek, seeing how tense you’ve become. 

You peer down at her pants, shrugging. “Wanna touch you…however you want me to.”

“However?” She gives you one last kiss below your jaw before laying on her back. “Okay. Help me take this off.”

The heat kicks back in. You start removing her pants until she impatiently kicks the rest off the bed, leading you both to laugh. 

“Just start by kissing me first,” Shuri reaches for your arm.

You happily oblige, enveloping her lips with yours, your body between her legs. You breathe her in—promptly addicted, that’s for sure. Your chests press together and you can feel her breasts beneath you, nipples as firm as yours. 

Your hand hesitantly slides under her shirt. You stop before you reach her breast. “Is it okay if-”

“It’s okay,” she drags your hand to her breast and you gently squeeze before flicking her nipple. You successfully earn a moan from her. Fuck, you only wanna do things that’ll get a noise out of her. 

You kiss her chin, her jaw, dip to her neck, then down to her clavicle, hoping to descend further. Shuri reads your mind, removing her shirt and throwing it aside. You fervently reconnect your mouth to her skin, stopping at her sternum. Her hand shoots to the back of your head when your lips slide to her breast and your tongue circles around her areola, flicking on her nipple before engulfing it. Another moan leaves her, encouraging you to suck. Your free hand plays with her other breast, flicking and tugging before gliding down to her pussy. You find her clitoris beneath her underwear, circling it between your index and middle finger.

Shuri mumbles in Xhosa as you slip off her underwear.

Your mouth releases her breast and you get up. You gaze at her body, licking your lips. You stay there, naively contemplating what you hope to do to her. She notices. 

Her half-lidded eyes inspect your expression. “What do you wanna do?” 

Your fingers keep playing with her as you think. You look down at them, enthralled by her body’s response to your touch. You land on something. “Wanna eat you out.”

Shuri lets out a breathy laugh. “I’m surprised you know what cunnilingus is,” she jokes.

You chuckle. “Shut up.”

You aim for her stomach, kissing your way down to her pussy. You remove your fingers from her clit, pausing once you’ve positioned your head between her legs. Your eyes lock on hers when you flatten your tongue and lick.

“Yeah,” her hand lands on the side of head, watching you intently. “Just keep doing that.”

And you do. You lick and suck her, allowing the volume of her voice to guide you. You wrap your arms around each of her thighs, getting comfortable the more she coats your mouth and chin.

“Does that feel good?” You muffle against her pussy.

“Yeah,” she grinds on your face. “Feels…feels really good.”

Shuri gasps your name and throws her head back when you sneak a finger inside her cunt, thrusting in and out. She whimpers when you add another digit, curling the pads of your fingers. She curses in her native language, sighing, “right there,” when you hit her spot and you stare, admiring her whine and whimper because of you.

You continue to suck her clit until her body shudders intensely as she approaches her climax. She wonders if you’ve switched off the ship’s gravity because her mind spaces off blissfully.

You want to see that again.

She releases a heavy sigh and lifts herself to look at you while you sit up.

“Did I do okay?” You ask.

She yanks you by your shirt and smashes her lips on yours, tasting herself. 

You laugh against her mouth. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She pulls away, but lingers with her forehead against yours. She drags her fingernails up and down your neck. “Thank you.”

And she means it. You’re both lonely already. She needed the distraction and you’re apparently much more desperate for affection than you thought you were.

Jokingly you furrow your brows anyway. 

“Do people normally thank each other after sex?”

She clicks her tongue and flicks your forehead, saying your name in a scolding manner.

“Ow!” You yelp, laughing as you palm the spot she flicked. 

Shuri smiles humorously, rubbing your forehead despite the lack of pain.

[yuanology]

i love you writers who create gender neutral reader fics that's actually gender neutral without implications of what the reader's gender is. i love you writers who uses they/them pronouns to refer to the reader. i love you writers who create masc reader fics of every genre and using cliché silly tropes because we can. i love you writers who create masc reader fics because they couldn't find any good fics that fit their own niche interest. i love you gender neutral & masc reader fic creators who realise that some of us are gay and want to give our favourites some good lovin'. i love you, all of you, every single one of you, and i hope you know that each one of you is why i create and why i continue to create. i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you.

[mothmoth0]

I really would love that fanfic writers learn but fr LEARN to tag theyr work.

Don't get me wrong, each user organizes their work in the way they feel is the correct one. BUT there are Tags for a reason and especially i'm talking to gender tags.

I know the fanfic thing is more comun for cis women and afab people, which is why as an amab woman sometimes it's so frustrating to read fanfics. Personally, the only problem I have is when the fanfic contains Smut, nsfw aspects or where they talk about genitals because, dysphoria. That's why if I want to read something most of the time I look for the Gender Neutral tags but apparently people don't know that GN means GENDER NEUTRAL.

You can specify genitals, of course because it is your work and you do what you want with your work, but the tags are there for a reason and if it's not the genitalia thing it's the gender roles applied in a character WITHOUT GENDER, there are people who fall into the binary but still do not want to read things with gender roles or specific genitalia and that's why we look for this specific tag.

Anyway writing is hard and each of us does it from our reality and personal experiences but please tag your fics according to their content, thanks <3

[pray4saint]

little heads up for gender indicators on smut i write (this is not applicable to other writers, this is just how i indicate reader's sex & gender on my smut posts)

fem!reader : i refer to the reader with she/her or she/they pronouns, i use feminine terms and petnames, reader has female anatomy and is referred to as a woman, girlfriend, or girl

afab!reader : i try to reduce pronoun use as much as possible, reader has female anatomy but i will commonly use they/them for reader, avoiding any gender indicating terms

masc!reader : i refer to the reader with he/him or he/they pronouns, i use masculine terms and petnames, reader has male anatomy and is referred to as a man, boyfriend, or boy

amab!reader : i try to reduce pronoun use as much as possible, reader has male anatomy but i will commonly use they/them for reader, avoiding any gender indicating terms

gn!reader : i avoid using any sex indicators and default pronouns are they/them, this normally only works with headcanons

tm/ftm!reader : i use masculine terms for reader, including man, boyfriend, and boy, but reader has female anatomy (sometimes tm!reader may have top surgery scars), and i write based on my experiences with my ftm exes

tf/mtf!reader : i use feminine terms for reader, including woman, girlfriend, and girl, but reader has male anatomy (sometimes tf!reader may have [barely noticeable] facial feminisation surgery scars), and i write based on what my mtf friends have told me makes them feel most comfortable

[killmeprettypleasee]

𝐔𝐧𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

Imagine── being a small harmless househusband, taking care of your husband who is twice the size of you, giving him meals, clean his clothes, and even helping him relief his stress.

Despite his intimidating size hes so careful and gentle with your small body,, he would never forgive himself if he even hurt you the slightest but.

Gently thrusting his cock into your boy pussy as he whispered sweet praises into your ear; "Good boy, such a sweet thing you are.."── just makes him shudder with love and pride.

He just loves how sweet, caring and selfless you are, always satisfying his needs first before yours, hes so proud of just having you,, he'd love you forever till the end if the earth, he would kill for his darling husband (Like literally).

His sweet baby boy is his treasure, aswell as his sunshine!

✁__________________________________

[ya-bug-boy]

Vampire Warden Ingo pampering his afab so (so is trans masc)

The blood week is hard but apparently orgasms are supposed to help with the pain?

Ingo uses his vampirism to his advantage

In prior Vampire Ingo headcanons, consuming blood is a pretty normalized thing now in modern monster integrated human society.

There's vending machines and boba vans that are exclusive to monsters who need to drink. But these are more like desserts compared to actual blood with the amount of sugar they put into it. Blood packets are supplied by the government to ensure safety for human residents.

Synthesized blood is much different compared to human blood but similar enough to sate their appetite.

Blood Moon week is Ingo's happiest time of the month.

He's almost relentless with how little breaks he gives you in between your back to back orgasms.

He's mostly using his tongue, manipulating its shape and roughness, trying to make you squirt everything out.

Ingo practically starves himself of blood the days prior to the week of your blood moon, so he can eat you out like no tomorrow.

Your darling vampire boyfriend just wants to help you, he says, as he guides you into bed, his levitation powers gently lifting and setting you down as he nuzzles in between your thighs.

[mattsdae]

i’m gonna say something controversial yet brave: people who write mattrey fics with their current age and make y/n a 20 something for no reason other than for self insert reasons kinda piss me off

why can’t you just… not mention age? maybe it’s bc i could never see them date someone so young (assuming they don’t have wives and kids) but what’s wrong with reader being a middle aged woman? or just not aging your character at all?

it’s like adding unnecessary descriptions to your character. you know that meme about wattpad fics where y/n puts her “dirty blonde hair into a messy bun”? people still do that unironically like what if the readers black? what if they have short hair? it’s way easier to just.. not describe your character physically so you can avoid alienating certain groups.

[haunts-gh0st]

Dear fem! fanfic writers

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PUT FEM READER IN HASHTAGS. OTHERWISE, WE CANT FILTER THEM OUT. ITS SO ANNOYING TO SEE SOMETHING INTERESTING THEN "FEM!READER" OMG.

ALSO STATE THAT THE READER IS AFAB OR FEM AT THE VERY BEGINNING. TAG THE DAMN GENDER FOR THE SAKE OF EVERYONE.

[sloth-babied]

Stay the Night

Shuri x POC reader

Summary: You’ve been keeping it a secret that Shuri’s been your muse for a lot of your music. When you decide to show her a song you’ve been working on, she starts to piece together who you’ve been writing about.

or

Reader is a musician who stubbornly denies to one of the smartest people on Earth that she isn’t your muse.

Contains: Shy reader, tension, and angst if you really squint. No use of y/n.

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: No, I am not dead! Just burnt out, yk how it is. But I had motivation to write this, so I really hope yall enjoy! Not my best work, but it’s something. And sorry for not being active. 

(Also I recommend listening to The Internet while reading just bc that’s what I listened to, hence the title lol)

Shuri stares at you as you adjust the headphones on her head, hyper aware of the proximity between the two of you. She only nods when you ask if she’s comfortable before the heel of your palm rests on the desk. Your finger hovers over the computer keyboard, reluctant to press play.

“It’s just a draft, so you know, lower your expectations.”

“Just play the song,” she laughs lightly, very much aware that this was a first draft from the numerous times you told her before even handing her your headphones.

You murmur a quick and sheepish, “Okay,” and click the spacebar. Her shoulders bounce, entertained by your apprehensiveness.

You deeply inhale as your heart starts beating faster, in contrast to Shuri who simply bops her head gently to the rhythm, the ball of her foot tapping the wooden floor.

You rarely showed anyone your early drafts, either out of worry in case they disliked what they heard, or if their enjoyment would jinx your chances of actually finishing the track. Yeah, you can be a bit superstitious—that Shuri knows with all the wood-knocking you’ve done around her.

Which is why it was uncharacteristic of you to show Shuri your latest project. 

It presented itself as an impulsive, “You wanna hear this new song I’m working on?” and you couldn’t take it back when you were met with an enthusiastic ‘yes’.

Shuri’s brows furrow, the movement of her head much more exaggerated. 

“This is good!” She compliments you loudly, tapping on one side of the headphones. You shush her humorously, reminding her of your neighbors and the lack of soundproof foam on your walls. “Sorry,” she chuckles before whispering, “This is good,” again.

It’s mostly dark in the room, the only light source in the room coming from the computer screen. The light reflects on Shuri’s skin, her eyes closed when she isn’t occasionally stealing glances at the side of your face, curious about the words you’ve written; envious of who you’ve written it for, though she’s had hopeful suspicions.

Your eyes stay glued on the screen, too embarrassed to watch the person who was, unbeknownst to her, your muse. 

Truthfully, she had been the subject of many of your songs, released and unreleased, since you first fell in love with her. That was two years ago. Perhaps it was the exhaustion from the long day or the present time of night that made the idea of sharing your music more enticing. Or maybe, subconsciously, you had to tell her how you felt without actually telling her.

Shuri hums along to the chorus, naturally catching onto the melody and you scratch your cheek in an attempt to hide your smile. You feel giddy inside at the way her body reacts—just so in-sync like she always is with the rest of your music. 

Until the song hits the bridge. 

Through your peripheral vision, it’s hard to ignore Shuri’s head movement slowing down to a halt. You catch a proper glimpse of her, only for a second, and oh, no, her face has gone blank. You feel your chest heave and now your brain is spiraling, wondering what the hell is going on in hers.

Shuri looks off, really listening this time. She flicks another glance at you before the last chorus arrives. And when it ends, she removes the headphones at a pace that perturbs you a bit…a lot actually. You’re left uneasy when she holds your headphones on her lap. She hasn’t looked at you and she hasn’t said anything yet.

“I know it’s not great,” you scratch the back of your neck then steal the headphones from her, laying them on the desk. Aimlessly, you fumble with your laptop, laughing nervously to fill the silence. “It’s just a draft. I probably won’t even finish it.”

Shuri’s still not saying anything and, christ, is it bothering you. At this point you’d rather she say it’s downright bad instead of keeping you on edge like this. But eventually she speaks, and when you hear her say your name, you initially feel like you could breathe again because she finally said something. However, that only lasts for a second.

“Is this true?” 

Your finger freezes on the mouse. You turn your head in her direction but her gaze doesn’t meet yours. You’re unsure what to say.

“What you wrote…is it true?” 

She takes the mouse from you, the feel of her hand leaving tingles on your skin. She clicks back to the beginning of the bridge before removing the headphone jack. Your voice plays on the speaker and suddenly you’re too stunned to remind her of your neighbors.

What exactly did you write? Nothing specific, or so you thought.

Then she pauses the song, an audible click coming from the spacebar, anticipatedly eyeing you. 

You shrug as an attempt to seem oblivious. (One might call it ‘gaslighting’.) 

“I write little stories for my songs,” you try to play it off. “I mean, I guess some are real, but most of ‘em aren’t, you know?” 

“You wrote about our time at the beach.” She states plainly, leaning back against her chair. She’s referring you to the secret beach you snuck her into in your hometown—a beach only so many people know of.

You glance at the notification-free lock screen of your phone on the desk; another excuse not to look her in the eye. “I take inspiration from shit in my own life.”

“And in your last album you wrote about the time we went on that hike together.” She adds. Yikes, you were hoping she wouldn’t notice that. 

“We’re lost in the woods,

I’m lost in your eyes.”

Damn your corny attempts at being poetic. You nearly cringe recalling the moment you wrote that. 

A year ago you went hiking with Shuri, and you insisted that you didn’t need any technology to navigate your way back home. You figured you’d walk back down the trail you walked up on, until you kept passing the same tree over and over again. Shuri laughed at you the entire time, comforted by the fact that she brought her Kimoyo bead bracelet with her, as you slowly started to freak out despite your refusal to admit you were wrong and maybe a map could’ve been useful.

“I hike all the time.” No, you don’t.

“No, you don’t,” Shuri shakes her head, one side of her lips tilting upwards. She leans forward and grabs the apron of your chair between your legs, rolling you closer to her until her knee hits the edge of your seat and your thighs loosely puzzle together. 

The light from the bright red motel sign across the street peaks through each horizontal slit of the blind curtain, and the cool night breeze outside lightly blows through the half-open window, lifting the curtain only a little, red occasionally sneaking under the bottom hem of the window covering. 

With the wind entering, the room should feel cool. It’s supposed to be. Yet your cheeks flush and the heat centered around your face tempts you to remove your hoodie because it’s easier to blame a jacket than the girl who’s figured you out.

You reattach your hand back on the mouse, unsure what you’d even do with it, but Shuri’s hand covers yours, your moist palm now stagnant on the object. 

“You released a single the year we met,” she says, her voice quieter than before but louder than a whisper. She doesn’t explain further. You remember the party two years ago and you know exactly what you wrote. Who are you to fool one of the most brilliant minds on the planet?

The computer screen dims, allowing you to notice the red illuminating on the back of her hand. You see red highlight the outline of her body and she stares at the red on the edge of your face. Then she looks at your eyes, your lips, then your eyes once again. Shuri slides her palm up to your elbow, her grip neither tight nor loose. 

“What are you so afraid of?” asks Shuri. 

You had spent so much of your romantic life dejected. Countless dating apps resulting in crappy dates. Or worse: friendships. Too many “The more I get to know you, the more I get friendly vibes from you”. Too many “Honestly, I don’t think I’m ready for this,” when really they realized they actually didn’t like you. Then when you knew someone in your own life who you liked romantically, the feeling—more often than not—wasn’t mutual. 

Best case scenario, you remain friends but things are only just a little awkward. Worst case scenario, they insist that things are okay then gradually ghost you. 

At this point, you were ready to give up.

“I don’t wanna…” you trail off.

She leans closer and whispers, “What?”

You stare off at anything that isn’t her. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

She leans down and tilts her face up, forcing your eyes to meet hers. She raises her brows. “Because…?”

You tuck your chin and your brows quirk. “Because?”

“I want you to tell me why you’re afraid of losing me,” she places her other hand on your armrest, trapping you, and you start stammering. “Since you do it so well in your songs.”

You can’t get anything out, though she doesn’t look away. You feel stuck, considering the numerous things you could tell her. Alternatively, you sigh. Fuck it. 

“I think I’ve told you enough,” you inhale, cupping one hand on her jaw and the other on the back of her neck before you firmly kiss her. Shuri lets out a muffled noise before reciprocating. 

And you both think, Finally.

Her body starts to sway backwards as you press against her, however she pushes you back against your chair. Her hands grab the sides of your face—one hand under your hood and the other over—refusing to let go now that she’s on her feet. Her upper body bends down just so her lips can live on yours, and a chuckle escapes both of you when your chair rolls backwards, almost hitting the wall behind you.

Admittedly, you enjoy sitting as she envelops your lips, but you decide to stand. Your hands slide down to her waist as you slowly walk her backwards until her legs meet the edge of your bed and she ends up landing on her bottom with her elbows supporting her weight as she gazes up at you, several red horizontal lines covering her body.

God, you can’t believe this is happening. You can’t believe Shuri wants you as much as you want her. Everything feels…unreal. Dream-like.

“Come here,” she pulls your wrist and you land on top of her. The bed bounces beneath you as her hand slithers up to your neck, drawing you in for a chaste kiss. She catches you in your thoughts. “You okay?” Is this okay? 

You nod, still admiring her below you. You whisper, “I didn’t think you’d…pay attention. To what I wrote. I didn’t know you were listening like that.”

Shuri caresses your neck with her thumb. She takes note of the neon blue light illuminating half of your face from a bar sign also across the street, below the motel sign. 

She kisses your cheek, your chin, then your lips once again. “I’ll always listen to you.”

[chilelemonz]

The New Moon Ball

MASC AFAB NB! OC reader X Vampire OC

A/N: hey guys! thank you so much for reading this is the first sort of long peice i've written so that's why i included the word count. i kinda wanna turn this into a series so let me know!

Summary: Apollo Van Helsing , an active and blood member of the Helsing Historians attends the New Moon Ball in place of their father, to observe and report when they awkwardly bump into Atlas Gomez, a prominent political figure in Vampiric Society.

Warnings: use or “mr” for reader but I believe that is it please let me know if I missed anything

Word Count: 1,454

~Enjoy~

He said it would be a fun lil game, he said it would spice up the bedroom. Now I’m running through the woods barefoot, lungs threatening to give out every few feet. 

I met Atlas about a year ago at a New Moon Ball ,it’s traditional to have someone a part of the human faction at a cryptid event. It showed peace and respect between the two kinds.  So I went in place of my father, Charles Van Helsing. We don’t hunt monsters anymore and we haven’t for centuries, the mortal and immortals came to a truce very long ago. The Van Helsing name stoped being hunters and became historians protecting the same creatures they used to kill. That was my job, cataloging and observing the inner workings of vampiric society.  Walking around the ballroom taking notes, that's when I saw him, a midnight black three peice suit, broad shoulders, shoulder length brown hair. Atlas Gomez, his presence indisputable as a well known figure in addition to being next in line for his clan, standing with an empty red stained glass in hand schmoozing other leaders,making small talk. It’s always been so intriguing to watch vampires in their natural habitat and guards down. They seem so human and then they open their mouth laughing exposing themselves as the predators they truly are while being so damn charming. 

“It’s rude to stare” A deep voice breaks me from thought. It was him. Atlas flashing his fangs through a smirk, starring darkly. The surrounding vampires now also looking my way,creating a bit of a scene.

“I apologize sir, I’m just observing” bringing attention to the pin on my blazer showing my organiztion and occupation. Occasionally they will have humans dressed in beautiful gowns and suits walk around compelled to be the waiter and the horderve. The pin became part of the uniform after an incident

“Ah, Van Helsing Analyst '' he taunts now slowly walking up to me

“Tell me young one what have you analyzed this evening” he stands a few inches from my face,emerald eyes in full effect.

“Oh well I don’t really analyze I just observe and report all events back to headquarters, to make sure it’s in within the guidelines of the-” cutting me off abruptly

“Of the truce yes, yes, that crusty old piece of paper” casually brushing off the mention of international law “If you don’t mind me asking are Van Helsing by blood or association?”

  When the Van Helsing name became Van Helsing Historians LLC it became less of family business ofcourse family members still held higher ranks and didn’t always have time to do a report and go to event so it often fell on lower level analysts. Though there are rumors and whispers, older Van Helsings don’t agree with our new beliefs and refuse to come to events,threatning to bring back old ways. Other rumors say we're now scared of the same things we used to hunt. I wasn’t scared of them,but maybe I should’ve been.

“By blood” I state proudly not letting his closeness intimitate or stutter my words.

“A purebred gracing us with their presence” reaching down to kiss my hand “ And your name?” his lips ice cold on the back of my hand.

“Apollo” a little take back by such a formal greeting “Apollo Van Helsing”

“Mr. Van Helsing would you treat me to a dance?” the vampire asks his voice almost melodic, looking back it could have been the music or compulsion but if I was honest I would’ve still said…

“O-okay” a smirk and his fangs appearing again achieving his goal of flustering me.

I stuck my note pad in my back pocket and let a monster lead me to the dance floor. Faces and bodies inches apart, his cheek beside mine.

“I’ll lead” he whispers , the sound causing my heart rate to increase which I’m sure could hear as he wouldn’t stop smiling at me. He holds one of my hands with his own to our side and the other he leads to his shoulder. Then placing his hand on the small of my back under my jacket, making me shiver.

“Sorry, cold” he chuckles in my ear. I laugh a little bit too, I’d never though I’d hear a vampire say sorry.

“It’s okay my bad dancing wil cancel that out” 

I looked up, our height difference became very clear now.  He was a foot taller than me, fangs towering over my head. He leads slowly 1..2..3..1..2..3, then slowly quickening pace to more of salsa as the music sped up. It suddenly became clear we were making an even bigger scene before, glowing red, gold, and black eyes in dark corners of the ballroom watching us.

“Everyone’s staring” I whispered as he dipped me drawing even more attention to us.

“You’re handsome, I’m handsome. I thought analyst were supposed to be smart” he snarked in my ear while having a hand under my thigh. The tension building up to that remark and this moment. Lifting me back up once again faces inches apart as the song comes to close.

"Again,not an analyst" I snarcked back to the predator

The room erupts in applause , oh god everyone was watching us.

“And you said you were a bad dancer” he bows to the room and then shows me off before taking my hand and leading me off the floor, still dazed and a bit overwhelmed from the whole situation. I did lie, Van Helsing's held high social status for long time so things like ballroom dancing, fencing , and calligraphy were still implored on the new generation.

“Would you do me the honor of another?” he asked a smile on his face like a kid in the candy store and I was the candy, with a vampire though that comparison isn’t so sweet.

“Oh no I should really get going I have to take this back to catalog before closing”  knowing I could get into the catalogs whenever I pleased.

“Well please let me right down my number so you could observe me if you like or perhaps a one on one interview if your committee will allow it?”

This obviously his way of flirting but a one on one interview would be historic, alot of vampires refuse to speak to Van Helsings because… well to put it bluntly the killing of their kind to a point of almost extinction. Not to say we didn’t lose people we did but that was centuries ago but some of these shades have been alive that whole time so someone telling them to get over it all the time probably doesn’t help.

“Well I-” I didn’t realize til this moment his hand still on the small of my back now sliding down lightly grazing my ass to take the notepad out of my back pocket and flipping to an empty page. He than takes a pen out of his lapel pocket

“Oh smooth how many guys do you pull this on” Atlas having a pen on hand,of course there could’ve been many reasons but he wasn’t going to be the only person doing the teasing that night.

“ I am a large politcal figure for my species. I may have to sign document or treaties or give my number to a cute guy at the government ball”  he looks up from writing his number to see my reaction.

“I thought this was business” wanting to draw a line not for him but myself. I have been more involved with a vampire this evening than Van Helsings have in years, I had to get out of there.

“It can be what ever you want to be my dear Apollo” handing back my tablet and kissing my hand lips slightly warmer than before “I wait for the day to be called upon by you” God he had to know how good he sounded or what he was doing.

“I-” I could see this pleading look in the emerald jewels he called eyes “I’ll think about” finally taking my hand away and walking back to the entrance ,shutting the large the cathedral doors behind me. It locks it self as certain carvings in the door start to glow golden  revealing sigils and then the door unlocks itself swiftly. I open to see the comfort of my small apartment with boxes and files scattered a around and a half eaten cup-a-noodles on the coffe table.

“Home Sweet Home” I say into the void of my apartment once again making sure to shut the door behind me as the door is overtaken in gold light and morphs into the average apartment door. I flop onto the couch,still trying processing the events of the night.

A/N: IF YOU TOOK THE TIME TO READ THIS THANK YOU SO MUCH!! i understand it's not a mainstream character and you're taking a chance during your midngint tumblr scroll so thank you!! love, lemonz <3

**DO NOT STEAL, REPLICATE, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK. **

I strictly FORBID any form of reproduction, replication, or translation of my stories without my explicit consent. This includes reposting my stories on other websites, platforms, etc.

[plutosring]

people r still arguing with me over this topic like i dont have an old bay hot sauce pfp

“twst characters realizing youre a girl?!!!??!” literally stfu 😐