#and i was like huh whats the gender neutral

[waldau]

I cant insert a photo here on your ask but it goes something like

"Do whatever you want!!!" X said out of anger then character Y kissed him gently. "You said do whatever i want, right?"

whatever — choi seungcheol | 1,821 words | hurt/comfort, fluff

this prompt was really cute!!!

gender neutral reader. warnings: reader is stressed out? and in need of a hug?

you love the sounds that make the house you share with seungcheol your home.

you love hearing the door creak when you open it at that specific angle. you love the sound of the clock ticking in the living room that seungcheol himself picked out. you love the sound of him walking on the wooden floor of your house, the sound of his glass when it clinks against the marble of the kitchen island, the birds chirping in the evening when you take out time to just relax against him and watch the sun set, and the sound of his quiet snores when he insists he wants to watch you watch your favourite shows, only to end up falling asleep.

there’s none of that here, in this moment.

you take off your shoes and kick them to the side, not bothering to open the cabinet to put them inside because the doors make a particularly loud sound when they snap shut, and you don’t want to risk waking seungcheol up again.

it’s been an odd couple of weeks, with you staying out late because of more work and seungcheol staying in because his workload has been relatively less for the beginning of the new year. him being at home would’ve made you happy if you didn’t have to apologize for cancelling and rescheduling dates, or for being left with energy enough only for a bath and a quick dinner, movie plus cuddling sessions replaced by cuddling in your sleep. if you were lucky to get back home in time, that is.

you stop and listen for a few moments. there’s no sound to be heard. the door to your bedroom is shut, which means that seungcheol must have already gone to sleep.

a little pang of hurt stabs your heart. it’s not like you want him to keep late hours for you, but you’re not exactly doing well in these trying times, and you’d really love to have his voice wash out your worries.

a resounding bang from the kitchen startles you. before you can even think of the worst possible scenario that could’ve just transpired, seungcheol walks out of the kitchen, a rolling pin in one hand and some flour on his hair and his rolled up sleeves. the literal definition of a hot mess.

“hey, baby,” he says, eyes widening when he sees you. “i was expecting you to be back in an hour or two.”

so it’s that bad, huh? it’s become normal for him to expect you to come back even later? you focus on the stains on his clothes instead, and the rolling pin that seems so out of place in his hand. “what exactly are you doing?”

“nothing! well, nothing much. yet. maybe you should stay out of here for a while.”

one thing about seungcheol is that he never keeps secrets. he can’t tell you a white lie to save his life, much less a black lie. “cheol,” you say, frowning, “both of us know you don’t even cook. are you baking? and why’s there flour in your hair?”

“sieving accident,” he mumbles, so quiet that you almost don’t catch it.

“should i be afraid?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose. you feel like your tears are a short distance away, and you really, really hope he’s done nothing more. something tells you that isn’t it, however.

“not really!” says seungcheol, but you can read him like glass at this point. the little nervous laugh and the way his nose twitches when he tries spinning facts makes you dread what you’re going to find inside. “maybe you should have a nice bath before you sleep? did you have dinner yet?”

you try to move past him into the kitchen but he blocks the entrance with his broad frame. the one time this isn’t sexy.

“cheol, let me in.”

“not until you tell me the password.”

“there’s a password now? what, something like choi seungcheol is the best?”

he giggles. “close.”

you sigh. “cheol, i’m really not in the mood to play games right now. please tell me what’s going on in there?”

he tries pulling that face, the one with the puppy eyes, where he looks at you so pleadingly that you’re generally ready to fold and do whatever he asks of you, but right now it just doesn’t work on you. the more evasive he is, the more worried you get. before he can react, you duck under his outstretched arms and into the kitchen.

rather, into the mess he’s made of the kitchen.

you’ve heard stories about junhui trying to bake. they sounded absolutely hilarious, and you’ve always wondered how he could mess up so bad that he managed to land waffle batter on the ceiling. especially when he didn’t even own a ladder to try and clean it.

it’s not funny when it’s your house that has some batter on the walls. at least it’s not the ceiling, you think, a bit hysterical, until you see flour on the…everywhere. it’s just everywhere. the counter, near the sink, in front of the oven like it’s a modern day trail of breadcrumbs that hansel and gretel would’ve followed. there’s also baking supplies scattered all over, an extremely huge sheet of baking paper lining a tray that’s sitting next to a bunch of bowls.

it’s a mess, to say the least.

“i’m sorry,” seungcheol says, gently turning you away from the sight of it. he winces when he sees your face. you don’t even know what your face looks like. all you know is that you’re tired, that you need a break, and that the last thing you would have liked to see today was your boyfriend’s face while he was peacefully asleep, and not…this.

you shake your head but no words come out.

“i’m sorry,” seungcheol repeats, setting the rolling pin down on the counter. a comical little cloud of flour rises and settles. what kind of accident even was that? “i was just…trying to bake.”

“cheol, you didn’t even know why we use baking soda till last week!”

“hey!” he says, defensive. “i asked you so i could learn. and i know this isn’t great, but—” his words dry up when he notices where your gaze lies — on the batch of cookies that are burned beyond belief.

you can’t believe your eyes, either. you’re not the biggest baker in the world, but you’ve never burned anything you’ve baked. especially not in your first attempt. maybe you’d have given up the courage to bake again if that had happened, but seungcheol clearly isn’t that bothered by it.

you don’t know if it’s because of how pitiful they look, or how long your day has been, but you feel a lump rise in your throat.

“you never even do this,” you whisper, only focusing on his face and not the mess around you. “why did you think you had to do this today?”

“am i not allowed to try things if i want to?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“it’s not that, cheol,” you say, trying to be as reasonable as possible. “i’d ask you for some help before trying something i’ve never done before. you never, ever do this. only when i ask you to help me. why today?”

“because i wanted to,” he says, almost flippant. “i’ll clean it up before you know it.”

but it’s not about the mess. it’s not about the burnt cookies. it’s not about the way he tried to block you from seeing the state of the kitchen. it’s the finality in his tone. it’s the fact that it’s not a big deal to him because he hasn’t had the day you’ve had.

seungcheol’s eyes widen when he sees your lips tremble. “are you seriously mad at me? for baking?”

“do whatever you want,” you hiss, tired and angry, feeling a single tear slide down your cheek. “i shouldn’t have looked inside.” you turn to walk away before it becomes a full fledged cascade of tears, but you don’t go far because of the hand holding on to your wrist.

“stop,” he says, holding you strong enough that it becomes futile to try and escape.

“let me go, seungcheol,” you say, avoiding his face.

“oh, no,” he breathes out, and the next thing you know is that your face is cradled in his hands and there’s a warm kiss pressed to your forehead. and your nose. and your lips. and it keeps repeating till you push him away, your face in his hands. you can feel the ugly emotions inside you ebbing away slowly, reducing to small embers that prickle the slightest bit.

“what are you doing?” you ask weakly.

“you said do whatever i want, right?” he asks, a smile on his face.

that gets you to break, for some reason. you would’ve forgiven him even if he’d gotten batter on the ceiling, because this — the sight of seungcheol with flour in his otherwise perfect hair, wearing an old shirt and beaming at you even though you’ve snapped at him — kills even those small embers.

you press your face to his chest and let the tears out silently.

seungcheol rubs your back. “hey,” he says softly. “let it out, okay? and i’m sorry about the mess. i meant it when i said i’ll clean—”

“it’s not that,” you whisper. “just…hold me?”

seungcheol complies, and you find yourself swaying in his hold in the silence of your house.

“want to talk to me about it?” he offers when you pull away, feeling slightly better. “i’m—”

“stop apologizing to me, cheol,” you say, laughing a little wetly. “it’s not the kitchen. i’ve just…i’ve been missing you like crazy and i miss just being with you without doing anything. i hate coming home late and seeing you asleep by yourself in our bed. i want…i want things to go back to the way they were.”

“so, a bad week?”

“more than one.”

“but you have me here at the end of every single day, right?” seungcheol says, pushing up the corners of your lips to make you smile. you do smile, but it’s because of the cute grin he has on his face. “we’ll get through it before you know it.”

you sigh. “it sounds good when you say it like that.”

“because i mean it. also, one more thing.”

“yeah?”

“please don’t ever call me by my whole name again.”

“only if you mess up the kitchen that bad again.”

“hey!”

“also, why were you baking in the first place?”

“because i wanted to cheer you up,” he says, sheepish, and you want to do nothing more than hold his face and kiss him silly.

“you’re an idiot, baby,” you say, cradling his face in your hands. “but you’re my idiot. and i love you.”

seungcheol’s blushing face is quite possibly enough to get you through tomorrow.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu

[pinkie-pop]

"Reincarnated As The Cringefail Lord of Hell's Second Child."

Part I Part || Part III

Sequel to this.

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Morningstar! Reader, Platonic Hazbin Hotel x Reader, Yandere Hazbin Hotel

Word count: 2.7k

Includes: Alastor being creepy, invasion of (your) privacy, bad things are coming...

Synopsis: A straightforward isekai story, you're reborn as the devil's child. With knowledge of your past life and the show your new world is based on, it's clear that you must be destined for greatness. The only question remains: why does everyone around you seem to be acting so...strange?

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

There's nothing better than the payoff that a successful scheme brings. Vaggie returns to the hotel a few hours after your talk with her, and with her is a pair of two gorgeous angelic wings.

“Wait, yer an exorcist?!” Angel exclaims, throwing his top arms up, and using his bottom pair to pull himself up from his position on the couch. “How did I not know about this?!” He looks around, shaking his head wildly. Husk merely shrugs. 

“Maybe if you weren't high all the time-”

“Oh, yeah, like yer one to talk, Mr. Hasn't-been-seen-without-a-bottle-in-seven-years!”

Charlie claps her hands together, effectively stopping the two before their banter turns into an actual fight. “Okay, so Vaggie's an angel, that doesn't mean that-” 

“Oh yeah, easy for you to say, Princess. I bet ya already knew about this, didn't ya?” 

“I mean, I did. But-!” 

“Then why didn't ya say anything?!”

“It wasn't my place to-”

Angel dramatically falls back onto the couch. Odd, you think, his reaction wasn't nearly this strong in the show, why is he- “Whatever. I need a drink,” he says getting up. “Husk! Pour me a drink!” Husk grumbles something under his breath as Angel passes you to get his drink. 

“I think he's over it,” you say, glancing over your shoulder at Angel, who is drinking straight from the bottle. “So, an angel, huh? How exciting! My dad was an angel, too, y'know?” Vaggie looks unimpressed at your attempt to pretend this is new information, but you ignore her. 

“Yeah…I know,” she says flatly. “Anyway, Carmilla agreed to supply us with angelic weapons at a discounted price, should we need them.” 

“Why would we need them?” Charlie asks, looking worried. Vaggie looks away, briefly making eye contact with you. 

‘Something’s going to happen on extermination day,’ you say, looking oddly certain. 

“Just…in case,” she says, offering an unsure smile. 

“Well ain't that fuckin’ ominous,” Angel pipes up from the bar. “Care ta enlighten us as ta why we might need em, toots? Something a little less vague than ‘Just in case'?” Angel puts down his drink (which is really just a whole bottle of what appears to be a mix of tequila and vodka—it’s a good thing he's already dead, you think to yourself) to make air quotes with his hand. 

“Angel, I think you're drunk,” you say, diffusing the situation. “You're slurring your words.” He's not, but you figure the statement will draw his attention towards you and away from Vaggie. You don't need him prying and accidentally figuring out something he shouldn't know.

“Am not slurin’ my words” He slurs, then slumps over, immediately falling asleep in an almost cartoonish fashion. Well, you suppose you are in a cartoon, you think to yourself, but you know that's not the reason for his sudden drunken state.

No, you're sure the sleeping spell you cast on him was by far the more likely cause. 

Alastor, who had been quietly observing the whole time, widens his grin with a look that seems to say ‘I know you did that’ but you ignore his gaze and ask Charlie for help taking Angel back to his room. 

While Charlie is busy tucking a grown man into bed, you slip out of the room and bump right into Alastor, who seems to have followed the two of you back to Angel's room. 

You have a bad feeling about this. Of all the many characters in Hazbin Hotel to avoid, Alastor probably ranked at the top of your list. You really don't need him getting curious about you.

“Why, hello there, little one,” he says, peering down at you. You think his eyes may be glowing, but you aren't sure. 

“Uh, hi?” you say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You glance back at the door. Charlie will be emerging from it soon. She'll save you, right?

“I couldn't help but notice the little ‘stunt’ you pulled with dear Angel Dust earlier—quite amusing, I must say! And I don't say that lightly. Might I ask you to join me on a stroll so that we might…discuss it?” He asks. You swear the room’s temperature just dropped. 

“I'm not going anywhere with you,” you say. “Dad told me not to talk to strangers.” 

“Ah, still playing the role of an innocent child now, are we?” He says casually. You stand a little straighter. “Not to worry, I'm a good friend of your sister, and besides, we have much to discuss!”

“We don't have anything to ‘discuss’,” You say firmly, moving to walk past him when he grabs your arm. 

“You may not have anything to discuss with me, but I have much to say to you,” he says. His tone then shifts to something more dangerous as he says, “And believe me,” he leans down to your level. “You don't want to see me when I get angry.” It's a cliché line and not at all scary. Even with the voodoo sigils floating around him and his radio-knob irises, you hold firm. 

“If I scream, Charlie and the rest of the hotel will hear me,” you say. The static around you dissipates, and Alastor's grin twitches in annoyance. 

“Very well,” he says, swinging his cane and turning to leave. “But this won't be our last encounter. Sooner or later, you'll give me the answers I want.” And just like that, he walks away. 

Once he's out of view, you sink to your knees. Despite your firm insistence that he didn't scare you, it was stressful nonetheless. Having him leave merely sucked the stress out of you, and momentarily took the strength from your legs. 

Yes, that's right. That's all it was. Your human nature makes you wary of him, but your demonic side keeps you steady. Soon, you'll be more demon than human, and this so-called ‘fear’ will be nothing more than a fleeting memory. 

Not that you were scared. 

“[Name]…? What are you doing on the floor?”

“It's comfortable down here,” you mutter, standing to your feet. “I'm going to bed early tonight. Where's my room again?”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You flop on to your and Lucifer's bed (king-sized, thanks to Lucifer's magic), exhausted. You bring your stuffed demon bear (Mr. Snuggles—a gift from Lilith, before she left) to your chest and sigh. You close your eyes. A lot happened today, and you could use some rest. 

But before that…

You open your eyes and sit upright, swinging your legs over the bed and standing. You walk to the small writing desk by the door and summon your diary from seemingly thin air, and begin writing. Journaling is a habit you formed as soon as you were able to hold a pen (this has left the first few entries of your diary completely illegible, but you were able to transcribe them once you had developed a steadier hand), and something you kept up to this day. You document today’s events, making sure to note Alastor’s suspicious behavior, then close and lock your diary. It’s a rather unnecessary step, considering you’ll be sending it back to the subspace you summoned it from, but the lock puts you at ease regardless. 

You’ve just finished clicking the lock back into place when Lucifer walks in.

“What’s that?” He asks curiously, walking over to take a peek. Without thinking of how suspicious your actions may come across, you quickly dismiss the journal back to your subspace. 

“Nothing!” You say, a tad too loudly. You clear your throat. “Nothing,” you say, quieter, this time. Lucifer opens his mouth to speak, and you realize you need to change the subject, and fast. “Um, I just realized we didn't bring any clothes with us. If we're going to be staying here, we'll need to get some.” Lucifer seems to hesitate before taking your bait, using magic to summon your wardrobe from the palace to the hotel’s drawers. You pick out a pair of pajamas and head to the bathroom to change, while Lucifer uses magic to change his own clothes instantly. When you return, he's already in bed, smiling and eagerly patting the space next to him.

Wait…what's in his hand?

You take a closer look. 

Isn't that…? 

Oh God. 

Oh fuck. 

“Dad, I don't-” 

“C'mon, sweetie, let me read you a bedtime story!” He says, opening the book of fairytales, eyes practically shining. It's endearing, in a way, the way he constantly tries to be a good father to you. But it's also annoying. You're a grown adult, for Christ's sake. You don't want to be read a bedtime story.

But it's not like you can just tell him that. 

“...Okay,” you say, climbing up to the bed and nestling yourself beside him.

It's surprisingly soothing. A hellish retelling of Cinderella, spoken to you in a soft, rhythmic voice. It reminds you of ASMR, in a way. You find yourself drifting off to sleep before you even realize you're tired.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

[Name] fell asleep. 

It’s not surprising, the story Lucifer read to you is known to make children sleepy. Still, he was half-expecting it to fail, or for you to refuse to listen to a story altogether. 

You look so young, curled up like this. So innocent. 

You look like a kid.

Lucifer’s stomach churns. What were you writing about? He knows he should respect your privacy, but…

Something tells him it’s important. He’s seen you write in that notebook before. He knows it’s a diary.

He shouldn’t read it.

He shouldn’t but…

Lucifer taps into the subspace you’ve been using (you may be unusually good at magic for your age, but you’re still a novice. You haven’t learned to secure your network yet.). He pulls out your diary but pauses when he sees the lock. 

He could open it with nothing more than a wave of his hand if he wanted to (and God, he did want to). But it feels wrong. Like he’s encroaching on something sacred. 

If he puts it back now, nothing will change. He’ll stay ignorant. You’ll keep your secrets. But your relationship won’t be affected. The two of you will go back to playing family, and he’ll never know what’s so important to you that you created a private network and a lock to keep it hidden.

He could do that, but…

He opens the diary. The first few pages are impossible to decipher, but pages 6 and onwards are legible. 

October 3rd, 20XX

This is a transcription of the following days: September1st, September 9th, September 16th, and September 22nd.

‘September 1st…? They couldn’t have been older than a month old when this was written,’ Lucifer thinks. Demons develop themselves faster than humans, but even by a demons standard, learning to read and write within just a month of being born is…unheard of.

Lucifer keeps reading.

September 1st, 20XX

I’m finally strong enough to crawl around and hold a pen. Thank goodness. Being trapped in a body you can’t control with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company is pure torture. Though, I suppose this is hell. Perhaps that was the point…? No, if that were the case, I’d never be able to walk and write, let alone so fast. I haven’t been able to keep track of the days, and the clocks are all too high to read, so I have no idea how long I’ve been here, but I saw a calendar hanging in the kitchen. I hope it’s up to date. 

I was able to pinch myself today, but it didn’t hurt. I’d count it as evidence that I’m in a dream but…well, it could also just mean that I’m too weak for it to work. I’ll try again once I’m a little bigger. 

Dreams don’t usually last this long, do they? Perhaps I’m in a coma. I must’ve gotten into a horrible accident, and I’m on the verge of death. This is just my brain spitting out random information from my subconscious. That’s why Lucifer and Lilith are here. That’s why I’m in Hazbin Hotel. It can’t be anything else.

Lucifer furrows his eyebrows. How did you know about the hotel, seven years before its opening?

September 9th, 20XX

Lilith gave me a Teddy bear today. She called it a hell bear. It’s cute, and something I probably would have kept in my room before all this. It’s less babyish than the rest of the things she’s given me. Lucifer named it for me. Mr. Snuggles, he says, in a mock baby voice. It’s bad. I know I’m in the body of a baby right now, but it still feels a little belittling whenever he does that. I used to pay taxes, you know! Sure, I liked cute things every now and again, but I was still a bona fide working adult. …Mr. Snuggles is a cute name, though. 

A working adult? Taxes? You thought his baby voice was stupid?

Okay, maybe that last one was less important, but still. Ouch.

September 16th, 20XX

I finally found the library. Goodbye, boredom! 

Lack of proper stimulation was slowly killing me. If I were an actual baby, the mobile and fairytales would probably have been enough to keep me sated, but, well, you know.

Anyway, the novels I’ve been reading lately have been pretty good, I think I’m able to more or less pick out which ones belonged to who. Mostly by the way they’re organized. The novels stored in the shelves under the staircase all have happy endings and sappy romance, they seem to be Charlie’s. The stories near the front have badass female protagonists and are usually crime mysteries and thrillers, probably belonging to Lilith. The informationals on various animals and other special interests are likely Lucifer’s. And the books in the very back…are all pornography. I’m not sure whose those are, and I’m not really sure I want to know.

Lucifer’s face turns bright red, and he nearly squeaks, but he manages to reel himself in and continue reading.

September 22nd 20XX

I’m able to crawl up stairs now. The second floor of the library is filled with Grimores. They contain complicated mathematical formulas and intricate sigils. I’ve done the math over and over, but I can’t seem to find any flaws with them. I’m not smart enough to have come up with the formulas on my own, so unless I’m doing something wrong, there’s a pretty good chance that this isn’t a dream after all. 

Come to think of it, you’re not supposed to be able to read in dreams, either. 

…I just pinched myself. Ouch.

Lucifer’s mind is racing. Nothing about this makes sense, and yet it explains so much, and yet—

He flips the page.

October 4th, 20XX

It took me a few days, but I’ve finally accepted this as my new reality. I’ve transmigrated into the body of [Name], a never before seen and likely nonexistent character of Hazbin Hotel, who just so happens to share the same name as myself. 

It’s…a tough pill to swallow. I miss my family, my friends, my home.

I may never be able to go back. But I have to try. I’ll read every grimore in the library, even the ones written in ancient languages, I’ll find a way to translate them, I’ll learn the language if I have to. Whatever it takes, I will see this done. I can’t give up. Even if I have to lose what it means to be human, even if I have to become a demon, that’s okay, once I’m back, I can relearn  what it means to be human. There’s so much I haven’t done back on Earth. So much I’ve never seen. So much I’ve never done, never said. I have too many regrets to just sit back and accept this.

I’ll find a way home.

You’re…leaving?

Home? You’re already home. This is your home now. These past seven years, have they all been a lie? Did it really mean nothing to you? Did he mean nothing to you?

Sure, you’ve always been distant, always been a bit too mature, but you were still a child. You were still his child. 

Weren’t you?

You’re…going to leave. To throw him away. Just like Lilith. 

No, he can’t lose you too. He won’t. He’ll find a way to stop you. 

Even if it means you can’t smile the way you used to, even if it means you don’t love him the same. He has to keep you. 

But he can’t do it alone.

Tucking the diary under his arm, Lucifer is careful not to wake you as he leaves your shared bedroom.

Taglist: @Halparkebitch @American-idiot21 @Toast-on-dandelioms @Mixplarab @aria-tempest @nirvana5874 @arsonist-on-fire @dollsgate @shoebillcuicui @galaxywing-has-adhd @sakuraluna2468 @luckywitchsong @ibcreations-blog @heather-hutchcroft @thoughtfulbananaduckcroissant @bee814 @deadgirldreaming @reikamasama @pandaquick

[wordy-little-witch]

Pls im begging im on my knees what happens in crossguilds honeymoon shenanigans? - dis is pertaining to the CG wedding anser sjdjdjdjdns i love it btw the asker is so big brained and u made it even better sjdmsjxkz

OKAY so I'll divide it up between General Content and Adult Content.

General first!!!

• at first, they didn't even plan a honeymoon. It simply wasn't in the cards to then, they didn't even consider it. Then Big Mom asked, making conversation at the following party, what kind of honeymoon they had planned. They told her just an evening together in their tent, then back to work.

The men, women and enbies of the Guild swooped right in there with bright grins. "We pooled our wages together," they announce, "and booked you a trip!" It's for a weekend, just three days, and they'd be gone perhaps five at most depending on the weather and travel.

All three are trying not to cringe into the ether because they'd be leaving the island for a decent chunk of time. Who would run everything?

Their commanding officers then give them an itemized delegated list, with all the primary functions taken care of. The Guild really prepared for everything, huh?

• the honeymoon is to a resort not too terribly far for Karai Bari. The first thought is for them to just.... divide and do their own things.

Only they keep running into each other that first day. Buggy and Mihawk wind up in the library with other. Mihawk and Crocodile run into each other in the sauna. Buggy and Crocodile meet up in the casino. It's constant, and eventually it even becomes rather fun.

• then evening hits.

Adult Content below~

• Buggy's got the self awareness of a walrus on cocaine honestly, so he doesn't really think before stripping down to change into his evening wear. Crocodile and Mihawk at first ignore it until they catch sight of a pale back full of freckles and scars. Both dark haired me are suddenly fighting the urge to kiss him there, to make constellations with their touch and tongue. They look away.

• Only One Bed - Mihawk wordlessly prepares the couch for himself and Buggy makes a hammock and Crocodile is getting the bed - the first night at least.

• sleepy early mornings are so intimate and nobody discusses that enough. Buggy is the first up, hair slightly messy from the braid he slept in, curls framing his bare face. He makes coffee and starts on breakfast. Mihawk joins him not long after. Crocodile wakes to the smell of food, coffee, and murmured voices and laughter. When he inevitably wanders into the kitchen, halfasleep, he accepts a playe and mug, presses a kiss to Buggy's temple, a squeeze to Mihawk's wrist. Both clown and swordsman take a moment to process that.

• Buggy isn't exactly a contributer to Gender, so he'll wear whatever so long as he likes it. Including, it turns out, a form fitting dress in a rich green with gold accents and jewelry which shows his long leg via a high slit. He plays the part of ditzy eye candy well for Crocodile, and all seems fine - until some others begin to look at Buggy as well.

• Crocodile is possessive. And they ARE married.... so he pulls Buggy close by his hook at the other's waist and yanks the other down to one of his legs, within neck kissing range. Buggy is flustered. Crocodile is glowering. The wandering eyes ease off.

• at some point, Marines show up. The resort is neutral ground, so none of the Guild leaders make moves to react. Through a series of events, it turns out the Marines are there to apprehend the pirates and have paid off the resort owners.

There's a fight which goes.... fairly normally with Mihawk close range, sinking vessels and soldiers alike. Crocodile is lurking midrange to use his poisons and sand most effectively. Buggy has opted for more long range with his explosives and plots. The whole thing is pretty damn smooth, all considered. Until someone makes it past and grabs Buggy.

A comment is made on his outfit, a cocktail dress and blazer with matching stockings. On his decorum. On him, specifically. It's nothing he hasn't heard before, and he's already halfway through a snarky comeback along the lines of "What, angry I'm hotter than your whore at home-?" when there is a wave of pressure. Buggy blinks. The marine officer stumbles.

There is suddenly a hand on his waist, a hook around his neck, two presences flanking him. "What," the both nearly snarl, "did you say about our wife?"

• Buggy absolutely gets butterflies.

• the rest of the fight is pretty quick, Hawkeyes and Crocodile out of patience to play with their foes. Buggy isn't a slouch either, by the way, he's lobbing explosives strategically all around. Nearing the end, he herds his husband's to their ship, pushes off, and gives a theatrical count down.

• the island and nearby ships are bathed in fire. Buggy is cackling, a mess, his hair wild around a filthy, bloodied face. The dress reveals his shoulders. The torn edges reveal more of those freckles.

Something in both taller men snaps, and they converge upon Buggy with claims and lips and teeth. On the deck of their ornate ship, to the cracking ambience of fire, they have their wicked way with him, learning his body and finding unexpected but delightful facts as they go.

Crocodile could transition fully due to Iva, but Buggy is not so lucky. His top surgery was experimental, and bottom surgery was never a huge deal to him. Mihawk, luckily, enjoys all bodies and pleasures of the flesh, and he is a quick study under Crocodile's tutelage and experience with the organs he once had.

Buggy falls to pieces more than once, teary eyed and begging and so sweet for them, so cute and attractive with his grasping hands and hiccuping breaths. He is beautiful as he sinks down onto one, cradled by another and wails with the stimulation and hands and hook that break him I to pieces just to reassemble him again.

It ends with them together, indulgent and depraved, christened beneath firelight and debris and the screams of their enemies.

And none of the three had ever felt quite so seem as they did in that moment.

• back on Karai Bari, they sashay back in, mostly, as Buggy has a mild limp.

The lipstick stains and bite marks and bruises and scratches paint a clear enough picture for what happened.

"How was your trip?"

"We blew it up"

"Wha-"

"Fire. Explosives. Our beautiful chairman has quite the knack for such weapons"

"D'aww! Hawky, you'll make me blush!"

"We can make you do more than that, you little shit...~"

"Hehe~"

The poor mercenary is left rebooting.

[yorutsuki]

「 ✦ Frustrated Pleasures ✦ 」 (SMUT +18)

Boothill x reader

↳ How did it all end up like this? You, on his bed, spread and a senseless fuck doll. The once sly and cool demeanored ranger to a hot, sweaty and panting mess—yearning to get his frustrations out.

[ gender neutral reader; they/them ]

Warnings: Sex, degration, slapping, overstimulation.

Tags: @volliix

──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────

Your sweet moans filled Boothill's ears like music while skin to skin contact filled the roams empty silence.

"God {Y/N}.." He panted, thrusting back in. His cock dissapearing once more into your overstimulated hole—making your nerves feel a overwhelming rippling sensation of pleasure.

Just a while ago, Boothill was as sly and neutral as he always has been and now? He was mercilessly ravaging you like a dog in heat.

Just how did that happen?

Acheron.

Simple as that, you mentioned her name once and just like that, here you were, spread upon the mattress and fucked senselessly by the Galaxy Ranger.

"B-Boothill, s' too much !" You whined out, clawing into the pillow even harder as his shaft touched your sensitive spot perfectly. "Did I say you...can speak, you fucking slut..." He hissed between breaths and thrust, slapping your ass.

Your breath hitched at the painful pleasure from the contact yet ultimately tried your best keeping quiet.

"This.." He grunted, fastening and hardening his pace. "-is what you deserve, ya?" He chuckled before tugging your hair, it acting as a leash of sorts. You moaned out a sob of yes's. "Good fucking slut." He praised with a chuckle, letting go of your hair, moving one hand to your hips and the other to your wrists, pinning them above your head to the pillow.

You moaned out as you felt a deep knot form in the bit of your stomach. "S-shit..you cummin' already?" He panted. You only whinned in response.

He chuckled once more, going faster n' harder, slamming his cock deep into your needy hole—earning a deep moan from you as the knot got tighter.

"I'm gonna-!" You hissed out as your eyes rolled back but felt the pit of your stomach drop as you felt him pull away, leaving your hole throbbing in desperation for the pleasuring feeling once more.

"W-why, p-please I was—I was so close..!" You whined, trying to move your hips for friction. "P-please-!" You were shut up with a small slap to the cheek. "Shut the fuck up." Boothill seethed, "get on your stomach." He demanded, his tone cold and sweaty.

Obliging, you rolled over before you letting a yelp out as you felt cold metal hands lift your hips up. Without warning, you moaned a grunt as you felt him enter back in, filling the empty feeling once more. Without hesitation, he started moving his hips at a quick pace—the knot returning once more.

As he moved he chuckled into your neck. "Your going to be my little fuck doll—rid all of my frustrations, into your little cunt, yeah?" He breathed out, grunting at just the thought.

"F-fuck im close, you are too huh darlin'?" He panted. You could barely comprehend his words. All you could do was weakly nod asyour jaw parted from the pleasure.

"Hell..then fucking cum." He demanded, his pace going faster with every thrust. He could feel you clenched desperately around him to relieve the aching feeling.

"Oh God-!" "If you think God's going to be here, your a mistaken fool." Boothill commented with a chuckle. Before you could even process words, your body seized as you moaned loudly, cumming around his cock—your walls fluttering in a rhythmic pace.

"There we go.." He grinned before fastering his pace to reach his edge—overstimulating you in the process.

"Yes, fuck, fuck, fuck...!" He grunted loudly as he emptied his load within you. His thrusts slowing down until he was emptied out.

Only the sounds of your beating hearts and fast needy breathes filled the room. You were exhausted, your energy had depleted immensely and your lungs still worked to catch their much needed air.

Unfortunately for you, the galaxy ranger was no where near done—his frustration still lingering like new.

Your eyes widened in terror as you felt him roll you over once more before lifting your lower half up to meet with his still hardened length. "Didn't I say you'd be my frustration dumpster?"

..........

A/N: What the hell did I just write.

...

Ok before any miscommunication occurs; yes, i'm a minor. Yes, it does say +18. This fic was supposed to be a little thing to prove to my friend that smut isn't that hard to write and to get clout; a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do 😔 (This is my first time writing smut-) It may not be the best but it isn't the worst..I think-.

This is the only smut fic i'll be doing on this page until I say otherwise. You can think i'm a hypocrite for making this, but any harsh and negative comments will be deleted as I have already explained why this exists. If you need me to explain further, i'll answer questions.

[volpe-kitsune-red]

May i request a lynx X an already partially conditioned reader (gender neutral preferably)?

Of course! I am kind of excited, this is the first request I get to write. :D Hope you'll like it!

An obedient pet

Lynx Andromeda (Yandere OC) x gn!reader

TW. general yandere behavior, possessive behavior, manipulation, gaslighting, threats.

You wouldn't describe yourself as a pushover, you knew how to stand your ground when it came to anyone, be it a friend or a professor. But there was something in her voice, in the way she imposed herself that enchanted you, or more accurately, conditioned your mind into bending down at her will, allowing her to guide your thoughts as she pleased.

It started with you losing touch with any friend you would hang out with the most often. Lynx would remind you that you had already made plans with her whenever you tried to organize a night out with them. "What do you mean you don't remember us talking about going to the cinema today? You were the one that proposed it! Have you been getting enough sleep, love? You keep forgetting our dates. Or is it because you don't care enough to spend time with me to remember?" Of course you cared! Your friends kept pointing out how this kept happening almost every time. But she obviously would never lie to you about stuff like this, you just had a hard time remembering your plans.

You also couldn't remember when she started referring to your hangouts as 'dates', you questioned her about it but kept getting evasive answers until you gave up. "Hmmm? Isn't that what they're called?" "Best friends date all the time!." "Date, going out together, honeymoon, they're all the same thing!"

It became obvious that something was wrong when people stopped inviting you out with them and even went out of their way to avoid you at school. Well, not everyone stopped, Lynx and her close friends were still there for you. You would always be encouraged to meet them in the corridors after every period and sit with them in the dining hall.

It was a very drastic change, it's not like you were forced to follow them everywhere, but you had no one else to go to. You suspected that someone must have spread rumors about you or there was something wrong with you that inevitably pushed everyone away. You felt grateful to Lynx for always sticking by your side, making you feel welcome in your friend group, but you also wanted to get your social life back in your control.

The problem was that she wouldn't let you. It felt like there was an invisible string tying you to her if you strove too far away to connect with anyone else. It was impossible to talk to new people at parties when she was always there to pull you away. "Come on! We are about to start a game of beer pong, you have to at least come to watch me win!" You were starting to get sick of it. It...it was like she was doing it on purpose! You loved being with her of course, she was your best friend, but you should also be allowed to have friendships outside of her and her group! Just as planned, nothing you said or did helped the situation.

"Are you saying we are not good enough company for you? Must I remind you how your old friends abandoned you?" "Do you want to risk the heartbreak of being rejected again?" "..." "Exactly, I didn't think so."

Every fight left you more hopeless than the previous. Lynx would comfort you afterward, sweet words leaving her lips like honey, but in reality, it was closer to venom. "You don't need to risk getting hurt again, all you need is here." "I'm here for you and always will be. You're mine." "Huh, what was that.?" "Nothing, sweety <3"

Eventually, you found yourself always clinging to her. Wherever she was, you were there with her. You became like a puppy, believing whatever your owner told you, never suspecting any ill from them. She was always so nice to you, after all, always locking arms with you whenever she was close, never letting you leave her sight. She would buy you gifts, praise you, and pet you whenever you behaved the way she wanted you to.

You were never left alone, you were always shown affection and support. Life was good, why would you ever desire anything different?

"I love you, my dear. See how everything is better when you're with me? Wouldn't you love for it to last longer, perhaps forever?"

From that moment forward, any hope for your life to go back to normality becomes useless and then, lost.

[thatbookgirl1118]

you've heard of cowboys. you've heard of cowgirls. but what's the gender neutral term? Get ready for...

Cow people.

[klanced]

when adam met 11yo keith he immediately knew that keith was gay and was like i have GOT to support this kid!! (runs into traffic) meanwhile shiro spent years operating under the assumption that keith had like a gender thing going on

[ashersanity]

WORKOUT BUDDY! WHITNEY

“He’s the worst, isn’t he?”

whitney as your workout buddy, brought to you by asher.

pairings : m!whitney x gn!pc (mentions of m!pc too)

cw! dub-con?, non consensual touches, stalkerish behavior, whitney being a creep

- art is by @shoknsfw, my #1 whitney artist

“Fuck. Let me show you what a real workout is, slut.”

workout buddy! whitney who’s not known for being the most welcoming, cheerful person at the gym. always with a trained, pissed off look on his face, glaring at anyone who dares to interrupt him between reps as he’s busy lifting weights, sending them off to scurry away to the other side of the gym. lucky for you though, it seems you caught his attention, silently watching you from afar with an unreadable look in his eyes.

workout buddy! whitney who insists on correcting your form whenever you’re lifting weights, the smug bastard unable to help himself when it comes to correcting someone else. of course, that poor person just happens to be you, newbie who doesn’t know the very first thing about posture or tempo. don’t worry, the delinquent’s here to help. rough hand placed onto your back to straighten your spine or so he claims while the other one is grasping at your hip, trailing lower then it really should.

workout buddy! whitney who gets a bit too comfortable with your personal space, starting off with light, ‘accidental’ brushes to your lower back, eventually finding themselves down to your behind that he loves to press against with his crotch. enjoys the startled squeaks that elicits from you, clear grin on his face once you whip your head around to meet his avoidant gaze, pretending to be innocent.

workout buddy! whitney who’s a complete and utter bastard and refuses to share his bottle of water with you, making a show of drinking it right in front of you, soft, pink lips wrapped around the rim of his flask. oh, how you wish you could get a taste of that sweet, sweet water to quench the undeniable thirst in your mouth. only willing to lend you some if you beg for it, frantic pleas bringing a smirk to his lips. proceeds to pull you into an unexpected kiss, forcing the liquid down your throat for you to swallow. sloppily kissing you with his tongue just for him to pull away and walk off like nothing happened.

workout buddy! whitney who you somehow run into constantly at the showers with his gym clothes already off, toned body slicked with sweat and humidity from the steaming water. probably the most awkward experience you have to live through, standing next to him beneath the shower sprays raining down onto your naked bodies. no need to be nervous, you’re both guys aren’t you? leers at you the whole time, wandering hands dipping down to ‘accidentally’ squeeze and get a feel of your ass.

workout buddy! whitney who has your entire schedule memorized, from when you first walk into the gym, which exercises you do, how many sets in total you have, specific shower time. what a coincidence it is, bumping into the blond near the entrance as you’re ready to head out, him pulling you back to invite you for a night at the pub that he desperately hopes you accept. might end up with him slipping you inside his run-down apartment, firm arm wrapped around your waist, smirking to himself.

workout buddy! whitney who’s getting increasingly impatient in his pursuit of you, quick and heavy breath fanning the shell of your ear, being all too close for something that’s simply the demonstration of an exercise. trapping you between his strong arms to keep you in place, not-so-subtly getting himself off by grinding against your leg, throbbing boner in his sweats. shit, that shocked expression on your face and your little squirms is everything to the bully, restraining himself from fucking you right then and there.

workout buddy! whitney who now has you bent over one of the benches or pressed up against the lockers as he ruthlessly fucks into you, propping your leg up over his hip for support, balls meeting your stretched out hole with every slap resounding lowly in the changing room. fuck, he knew you’d crack one day, it was just a matter of time before he finally got his hands on you, now forever his to claim. whitney’s own fucking gym buddy now turned into his personal slut, eagerly taking in his fat cock. what a whore you are, slut.

anything to say, asher?

- “FEM!WHITNEY AS YOUR WORKOUT BUDDY, CANT FUCKING CONCENTRATE, I’D BE STARING AT HER TITS THE ENTIRE TIME. LICKING THAT SWEAT OFF NO NEED TO SHOWER WHEN YOU HAVE M—“

[END OF POST]

[inexplicably-spookified]

diversity win! this witch is bi... lingual?

[bastardsofravenkroft-blog]

wait what happened with pissditching? im p sure you talked abt them in an ask response but i never understood what happened...

basically pissditching is friends with revengeromance and girlgerard (both of whom i dislike atp*) i said something in the tags of a post abt how i was pissed at revengeromance for something (unrelated) and pissditching found it and lowkey harassed me and several friends over it and said some real fucking weird shit to me so i blocked them (and probably said something snarky abt them on main but i dont really remember)

*i dont personally like these two users bc they (specifically gg) are the forefront of call gerard way nothing but she/her and i think thats fucking weird 🙂 personally. so i have them blocked and don’t interact with anyone around them at all.

[femme-malewife]

Someya Yujiro is trans

[ajdrawshq]

playing Q2 n watching Akechi get affectionately suffocated by some guy in a bear costume. this game knows exactly what i want

[daz4i]

unsurprisingly i am once again thinking about nikolai

[13taylorswifts]

.

[starpros-sunshine]

Little snippet of a conversation I saw my friend have with my other friend on WhatsApp after we were done painting the chairs

"It is eating paint again"

"well that's normal isn't it?"

"No????"

"well maybe for you it isn't but for it it is"

The. The "It" was. They were referring to me.

[lindwurm-prince]

feeling weirdly gender dysphoric watching tiktoks and seeing the ways that young men and women differ and interact with each other like wow. i don’t relate to ANY of you at ALL