Sandpaper🪨

Just my main account so I can make sideblogs off of it. Nothing to see here.🔞 Asks?

[teeth-farie]

Restroom Rendezvous

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)/Reader

…: I’m back from the dead! I can’t guarantee that I’ll post often, but I at least wanted to share something I wrote. Deadpool has been my hyperfixation since I saw DP&W last summer, so this is set right after that. Thanks for reading!

~~

Wade totally wasn’t caught up on Vanessa’s rejection, not at all. Things don’t work out sometimes, and that was fine, really, it was. She let him down easy, he was thankful for that, at the very least. People change. She had and so had he. They simply weren’t what each other needed anymore. 

It hit him bitterly, that he can admit. He spent many long nights drowning his sorrows in ice cream cartons and reruns of the great British bake off, and a couple nights actually drowning himself in the bathtub. It was a rough period, but life goes on. 

He’s since come to terms that romance just isn’t in the cards for him, not when most people ended up nauseous after a first impression. However, that wouldn’t stop him from living vicariously through Logan’s love life. 

He’d put up a good fight so far, but Wade would be damned if he let all that go to waste because The Wolverine doesn’t know how to flirt with this universe's population. Seriously, he’s never seen someone be so politically incorrect and over correct in his life. 

It all leads them to a seedy little bar, but one with enough charm to know you probably won’t be getting an std. Probably.

He has to tug Logan away from the bar and to the pool table before he can get too shitfaced, sighing in exasperation. 

“It’s like you don’t even want to find anyone.”

“You said I’d be getting laid, not that I’d fall in love.”

“Oh, but don’t you just love the trope of strangers to fuck buddies to lovers?”

Logan snorts a puff of air from his nose as he grabs a pool stick and rubs the little thing of blue chalk on the end of it.  

Wade turns to scope the bar population, leaning up against the edge of the pool table as Logan lined up pole tip to white ball, cradled by his fingers. 

“At first I was like, ‘let him have some time, he’s new to this universe’, but now I’m like, ‘fuck it, he’s had enough time!’,” Wade begins, the sounds of pool balls clacking making him roll his eyes. 

“See, that’s exactly it! I took you here to mingle and now you’re huddled away playing fucking pool. Alone. You aren’t even playing with anyone.”

Clack. Roll. 

“I didn’t even think you could play pool alone, it seems like a very obvious two player game, but you do know best,” 

Clack. Thunk!

“OW!!” Wade turns dramatically, hand on his ass to face the other man with a look of betrayal. 

“Did you just hit my ass with a pool ball?”

“Shouldn’t be sittin’ on the table there then, bub.”

Wade frowns and Logan chuckles to himself, jaw flexing with his hidden grin. 

“You’re gonna make me do the work for you, huh? You big baby. You big 5’3 baby.”

SNIKT!

“YEESH, don’t get your panties in a twist, I’m leavin!”

There’s that saying of ‘there’s always more fish in the sea’, but the fish out here look a little too dead eyed for his tastes. Well, Logie’s tastes. 

Just when he’s about to call it quits, he spots you (Duh, you know what you came here for). 

There’s nothing outright that he can pinpoint that draws him to you. Maybe it’s the way you dress, or the way you hold yourself, but something about you makes him feel just about as giddy as a kid in a candy shop. Part of him wonders if maybe he could snatch you for himself. 

Checking his breath in a cupped hand, he winces and shrugs. It’s not like the rest of him was all that better. 

Wade leans up against the bar next to you, dark hoodie shadowing his mottled face under the overhead lights. His smile still gleams, crooked lower teeth and blistered gums. 

“You’ve been looking over at me and my friend a lot, I noticed it.”

“Ah, guilty as charged.” You respond, a split smile, beer on your breath. “I’m sorry though, if it made you uncomfortable.”

“No! No no, the opposite, actually,” he sits down on the barstool, leaning on his elbows against the sticky countertop. “See, my friend over there,” he points over his shoulder, voice suddenly low and conspirative.

 You follow the point of his thumb to his friend, thick and burly, bent over the edge of the pool table to line up another shot. Truly a magnificent specimen, but your eyes don’t seem to be on that prize. 

“I’ve been trying to set him up for ages now, and between you and me, he thinks you’re real cute.”

“He does, does he?” 

“Oh yeah, super cute. He might seem like an asshole, but he’s a real softie at the center, all gooey and shit.”

“Mhm,”

“Ok, ok, I see I’m losing you a bit- but what’s the harm? Come on over, just don’t say I brought you over here.”

You sigh, resting your cheek on your palm, and he can’t help but feel a little scrutinized under your gaze. 

“You know, it wasn’t him I was staring at.”

“I…oh, pfft, yeah, this whole thing,” he gestures to his face, scarred and tumored flesh pulled taut and tender. “Wanted a ticket to the freak show?”

“No, not like that,” you say quickly, a little hot in embarrassment. “I meant, I think you’re…cute.”

Wade almost balks at you, silent before scoffing. “Cute? Pardon my French, but are you fucking blind?”

You laugh, and you’re a little worried that you probably shouldn't have. “Listen…”

“Wilson. Wade Wilson. Did that sound cool?”

“Wade,” you say, and the way you say it makes him feel all tingly at the base of his spine. “You seem like you really love your friend.”

“Totally! We’re BFF’s, best friends forever, we’ve got the matching necklaces, too.” He tugs on the thin chain dangled around his neck, a half heart charm jingling underneath his hoodie. 

You’re resting your hand on his thigh, a deliberate movement that makes his fingers twitch a little, necklace falling back under his shirt. You lick your lips a little, and he’s back under your spell.

“Wouldn’t your friend want you to…have a little fun?”

His mouth falls open to say something, then closes, then opens again. “F..fun? I like fun, what kinda fun are we talking about?”

Your head leans back with a laugh at his flustering, hand squeezing his thigh just a little tighter. He shifts in his seat and you notice it, of course you do. 

“The kind of fun where you follow me into the bathrooms and I,” you stop, fingers inching up just a little bit higher on his thigh, just shy of bumping this fic rating from mature up to explicit. “Well,” you sigh out, and move your hand away entirely. “I wouldn’t want to give it away, not when you can come see for yourself.”

“Yes,” he strains, leaning up in his seat like he was ready to jump you right then and there. “I want that, I wanna have some fun with you—if, if you still want it?”

“Honey, I’ve been groping you for the last minute, of course I still want to.”

“Right! Right, right, right,”

“Leave a bit of distance, don’t make it so obvious,” you say to him, getting up from your seat and nodding towards the bathrooms with a wink before you leave. 

Wade’s heart pounds in his ears almost louder than the bar's music. Surprisingly jazzy, they probably came on a themed night. In ways, he thinks his heart might be singing too. 

He looks over to Logan, finding him still at that damn table. At least this time it looks like someone’s joined him, or he hopes so. He really wants to be following you right now. 

Then, with a skittish bit of flair, Wade slinks away into the crowd. 

—

Wade’s tarnished skin feels impossibly hot when your mouth makes contact, lips and tongue over the length of his jugular. His hands wander, catching on your clothing, rumpling the fabric under his grip. Yeah, this fic is getting rated explicit. 

“This is fucked,” he huffs, head lolling back against the bathroom stall. You make a questioning sound against his neck and his whole body shivers. “S’posed to be hooking you up with Lo’, not…not…” you’ve found the tender little spot below his ear as he speaks, blunt teeth pressing firm and he hates how reactive he is to it. 

“God, you’re not playing fair, this isn’t fair,” he wheedles, tugging on your clothes. 

You laugh and wiggle your leg between his, hip pressing against his groin, and you’re pleased to find him half chubbed already. “If I were fair, I’d be talking to your friend right now instead of kissing a cutie in the bathroom.”

“I’m- am I the cutie?”

“Yes, you’re the cutie.”

You’re mouthing lower and Wade is sure his heart is going to burst from his chest Alien style. Your teeth catch on the chain of his necklace, a touch of your tongue against his skin and you tug, breathing out a laugh when he whimpers. 

“That shouldn’t have been so hot,”

“But aren’t you glad it was?” 

You’re only stopped by the neckline of his hoodie, lavishing your mouth over the exposed skin of his throat. He’s breathing heavy, Adam’s apple bobbing beneath your teeth. 

He’d never thought anyone would want to be close to his cancer riddled skin, let alone kiss. The scabbing and sores of his skin don’t bother you, you devour him all the same. 

Just as he thinks it can’t get any better, he feels your fingers tug on the waistband of his jeans. 

“Is this ok?” You’re asking, all soft and hushed, like you haven’t unraveled him at the very seams. 

“Uh,” he stammers like an idiot, flushed red and sweating. “Yes, yes, it’s ok, it’s more than ok, actually! I’d really uh, it’d be totally cool, totally consensual—“

You cut him off with a kiss, fumbling with his buttons and pulling down the zipper with a huff puffed from your nose. 

His pants shuck down easily enough, caught around his thighs while your hand finds his erection. The first touch is like bliss, your fingers wrapping around his mottled cock and tugging, toying with the foreskin around the tender head. 

You make a pleased sound, reverberating into his mouth as you give him a testing squeeze, his hips canting forward. 

It feels better than he anticipated, much better, though he supposes it’s due to only having his right (and left) hand for a while. 

“No undies, huh?” You’re laughing, a sickly sweet sound that makes his knees feel weak. “And here I thought you were just trying to set your friend up. Were you hoping for this all along?”

He shakes his head, though it’s more like a frantic twitch. “Huuh, nuh-uh,” 

“No? I think you did,” his cock weeps enough to make the slide of your fist easy, the soft palm of your hand so much better than his own blistered one. “I think you were hoping I’d pick you, that I’d come kiss you all better, make you feel good.”

“Please,” is all he can muster, nosing against your head with a pitiful sound. 

“Oh, you poor thing,” you croon, letting go of his cock to put your cupped palm below his chin, expectant. “Come on, get it wet for me, Wade.”

It’s all but purred, the way you say it. Like butter and cotton candy had a baby and it was your voice. And he’s obeying, gathering the saliva in his mouth and spitting it into your palm, flushed red hot and wanting. 

“Good boy,” you whisper and he thinks he’s in love. 

Your wet hand is grabbing his cock again, slick and dripping. 

“Tell me what you like, cutie.”

“Tighter? Oof- not that tight, j-just kinda- ohhh,”

His body feels like it’s blooming, warmth flooding into his nerves different from the anxious, hormonal flush of his blood. He sucks his lip in between his teeth, eyes rolling when the web of your finger and thumb catch on the head.  

“Now that’s a pretty expression,” up and down, up and down, wet and messy. “I think it’s cool, how your dick is like the rest of you. Nice on the hands…” you thumb over the uneven skin, thumb pressing against the more tender and raw flesh, pulsing with his heartbeat. 

“Oh, ha..haha, r-ribbed for your pleasure, amiright?”

“Oh, Wade…” your tongue slides across the shell of his ear, saccharine voice a heady whisper. “I’m not the one that’s gonna be bent over.” 

“Oh my god,” he wheezes, hands shooting up to cover his face in near comedic embarrassment. 

You laugh in his ear and it sounds utterly mocking, your voice trailing off into a sigh of a moan (which isn’t helping him in the slightest- or it is, and that’s why he’s suffering).

“God, you’re wet, I don’t think I even needed you to spit at all.” You thumb over the head, a back and forth rub that gets your fingertips sticky with his pre. “Look at that, like a fucking garden hose.”

Wade huffs loudly through his hands, spreading his fingers to peek out, pupils dilated under the milky sheen of his eyes. “Don’t stop,” it comes out strained and weak when he says it. “K-keep talking, I need- I-I—“ 

His hips jerk in aborted thrusts, biting on his own tongue when his teeth clench. He whimpers, and you kiss him better, tongue against tongue. 

“Close,” he still tries to whimper anyway, his balls drawing up to his body in anticipation, the building of his orgasm festering in his gut. 

“Close? Alright, alright,” you start to shuffle him forward and he makes an indignant sound when he’s pulled away from your mouth. “Aw, don’t look at me like that, I’m just trying to avoid getting a stain on my clothes.”

You position him over the toilet and he grabs at the tank of it, your hand wrapping around him from behind and pointing his cock down to the bowl. It’s not the first time he's jerked off over a toilet, but this time is definitely more enjoyable. 

“There you go,” he can hear the smile in your voice, feel your hands wrapped tight around him. It makes him feel kinda jelly inside, soft and jiggly and vulnerable. 

He finds himself holding onto the hand on his stomach, your other making quick work of his erection, pumping quickly to push him right back to the edge again. 

“C-can you,” he swallows, tries to catch his bearings. 

“Can I what, sweetheart?” 

It only makes him whine, a gutteral noise from the back of his throat. “Say I’m good,”

“Ha, you want to be a good boy? Want me to call you that?”

“Please,” really, it’s all he wants. At least in the moment. Or maybe after too, think about the way he made you happy and apply that to himself so he doesn’t seem like that much of a fuck up anymore. 

You don’t notice his inner quarrels, of course you don’t, but you still squeeze his hand back, dig your thumb into just the right spots with your other to make him push back against you. It’s enough to tip him over from the edge where he teetered, down into the fallen abyss or whatever poetic shit his mind could conjure. 

You keep his cock aimed and he spills into the toilet, shuddering with the force of it. It’s the deep rooted kind of orgasm, the kind that makes your eyes roll and bones go gelatinous. Yeah, that kind. It’s honestly the best orgasm he’s had in months, he thinks he could actually cry. 

No, scratch that, it’s not hot to cry after sex, even if it’s a bathroom handy. 

He feels your hand move up and down against his stomach, petting him, such a soft action that he does sniffle a little. 

“Good boy,” you say to him, tender, kind. 

Oh boy, here comes the waterworks. 

—

Wade would have been an idiot not to have grabbed your number after that night. Actually, it’s more like you grabbed his phone and put your number in yourself, which made him fall just ever a little bit more in love. 

It’s scary, he thinks, to try again after so much heartbreak. Vanessa would always be his friend, even if at one point, he had still wished it to be more. Actually, he thinks she might be proud of him for making another new friend, and that thought does make him feel warm inside. 

He meets you today at a cute little coffee shop for a technical first date after the restroom rendezvous (which he’s still surprised got no knocks on the door, thanks author).

It’s cliche, sickeningly so, but it’s so healing to his mangled up little heart that he’s damn well bringing a bouquet with him, too.

He knows it’s your favorite spot, not because you told him, but because he did some light stalking on his own. Hey, there’s nothing wrong with doing a little research! He had to make sure you weren’t an ax murderer or something (which would have just been another score in his book). 

He watches you from the window of the shop for a minute, a certain type of nervousness gnawing in his chest, more so than he felt with you before. Maybe it’s because this time it’s more than just a mindless fling. Maybe he just really likes you. 

You catch him when you look up from your phone, giving him a wave through the window and he gathers himself up once more, and pushes open the door. 

[bluesodafreak]

More art cuz I got brainrot

Im replaying the game because it's genuinely been a while. The part near the beginning where you go through the fashon district and hes super suspicious. (For Valid Reason) made me giggle a little bit because my first thought to the Image below was "man what would be going down in the market.." I forgot his lore for a second, but if MC would be clueless at that point to any of his history. ... So I made a little doodle LMAO

[ultrainfinitepit]

Gale pin design✨

[teeth-farie]

Does he squirt?????????

HAHAHAHAHHDNFNCJDJENDJJDDJN

106 has a penis but if there’s a will there’s a way

[teeth-farie]

Muriel with “touch me there, right there” HNGGGGAAHHHH😖😖😩😩😩😩😩 imagining him saying that omg

29- “Touch me there, right there.”

Muriel doesn’t often voice his desires. You often found yourself having to pry his wants from him, easing them out of him with gentle kisses and reassurance. However, you think you’ve discovered another way to get him to open up.

Purposely, you avoid where he really wants you, settling to ghost your fingers over his inner thighs. He shivers, hips squirming just slightly, angling down to lure you in. “Tell me what you want, Muriel.” You say, mouthing kisses against his stomach from where you lay.

He whines, turning his head into the pillows.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me, honey.”

His lower lip trembles, mossy eyes sparing you a glance before quickly looking away. His mouth feels too dry, his body too hot. Can’t you just help him?

“Please.” Is all he says. You click your tongue. “I need more than that. You gotta tell me what you want.”

With a huff and a surge of confidence, or perhaps desperation, Muriel reaches his hand down, fingers spreading his lips open to show the wet neediness of him. “Touch me there, right there.” Even if he says it in a whisper, red down to his chest, you grin.

“Good boy.” You croon, and your head goes between his legs.

[teeth-farie]

Recent muriel doodles

[teeth-farie]

The Fantastic Three 3D Mousepads!

My new mousepads are available for preorder!! Preorders end July 31st and the ship date will be announced after that. These are a LIMITED ITEM, meaning after preorders end they’re gone!

☆ Link ☆

[teeth-farie]

Sacrilege has never been so sexy!

Buy a print here!

[teeth-farie]

The pest in front of Adam was pathetic, Adam watched as your friend cried and beg for his life to be spared. The tv that was in front of your friend was playing the recording of Adam riding you, and your friend had the nerve to try to ignore it. "Why are you doing this?! What have I done to you to deserve this?" Adam's eye twitched at the question, "What have you done, you ask? You were being a nuisance to my master. They don't need someone as worthless as you to bring their life down when they have me. I was created to bring them happiness, love, pleasure. The video your supposed to be watching is one of our sessions." Adam grabbed your friend's cheeks with one hand to forcefully turn their head towards the tv. Your friend could hear everything from the tape. The lewd sounds of moans and raw sex, your pleasure filled expressions, the movements of your bodies fucking like rabbits in heat. They couldn't believe that this was how their life was going to end, getting killed in the hands of a obsessed robot while watching a sex tape of their crush fucking said crazed robot. "You will never be good enough for master. Not like me. I'm everything they will ever need, they don't need you. You. Are. Nothing." Your friend let out a pained cry when Adam stabbed their thigh. "Shhh, this is the best part. Watch as my master fills me with their cum." After Adam said that, the tape played the scene of both him and you reaching your orgams. Adam's eyes beamed red as he glared down at your friends with a sinster smile. "Goodbye, pest." Adam then slit your old friends throat, their blood splattering on the dirty floors of the abandoned building. Your old friends body stops moving as his eyes lose life. Adam took off the coat that protected his cloths from the blood splatter and took out your old friends phone and went into your contacts and began to type a false message from your "friend" that they no longer wanted to speak to you and for you to stay away from them, and then sent the message. After that, Adam was quick to dispose the body as well as the phone. Then Adam began his trip back to your home. It was midnight when he left to take care of the pest, and the sun was beginning the rise when he came back. Adam's battery was on 15% percent, so he was terrible low and tired. But when he saw your sleeping face, he couldn't help a smile to bloom onto his face. "I will always protect you master, I love you so much." (5/5)

-🧇

AUGHHHHHHHHHGGGGHHH ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

Ok you gave me inspo for MORE ART

Adam when he gets a little too silly

[teeth-farie]

Artificial: Chapter Two

☞. . . A chapter about settling in!! The reader is DEFINITELY clueless as to what they’re supposed to do with this new friend. No spice yet, but mentions of his genital attachments. 1.6k words

Adam stares at you. You stare back. Adam stares at you. You turn away. This is a shitty situation, why did you do this, you’re so dumb. 

“My name is Adam.”

“Yeah, you said that.”

“I am here to serve your physical and emotional needs.”

“Yes, you said that too.”

“What is my first command, master?”

You visibly jerk, making a less-than-dignified sound. “Ok, ok, do not call me that. I’m not your master I’m- I’m just…” you groan, covering your face in your hands. 

Adam stares at you very quizzically for a robot, hands rising to his face to mimic the action. “Just?” He asks, voice smooth and light. You peek through your hands and he’s looking through his, artificial eyes looking at you too humanely for your comfort. 

“You…you’re very coherent for a sex doll.”

“I’m Adam, product number zero zero one three-“

“Yes, yes I know.”

You sit there silently for a moment longer, coming to terms with the fact that this is your life now, and you need to adjust to it. 

“I need a command, master.” He says quietly, almost like a whisper. That’s right, he was created to follow orders. 

“Ok, Adam, can you…can you stand?”

A smile spreads on his robotic face, seemingly pleased with the command as his fresh joints aid him in rising to his feet. He looks down at you expectantly, whether it’s for praise or another command you’re unsure. “Ok…” you stand, staring him in the face. He’s unblinking, wide cerulean blue. 

“You want commands, right?”

“Yes!”

“Then for your next one, go…go clean off that table.”

You jab your hand at your coffee table, pointing at the surface. There are only a few things out of place and a couple of tissues yet to be thrown away. Adam rushes to it, a bit wobbly in his first steps but soon finding his gait. He walks normally enough, albeit with a little lag and jostling here and there. He gives the tissue wad an inquisitive stare before plucking it up and depositing it in the small trash bin next to the table. He clears the rest easily, smiling triumphantly when he looks back at you. 

“Uh, good job.”

Adam preens, his eyes flashing a more intense blue. He turns back to the table and nudges a book, propping it up neater against the corner of the table. He looks back at you again, almost like he’s on the edge of his seat. 

“Good job, again.”

His eyes are like a kaleidoscope of blues, all different shades and you begin to assume that color means he’s happy. He claps his hands lightly. “I did good.” He whispers to himself.

You’re absolutely astonished, utterly gobsmacked. He shouldn’t be able to have this level of awareness, should he? When you think of a sex doll you think of an ugly blow-up, and even when you ponder the best models you think of a silicone lump with some pre-recorded lines. But here he is, walking, responding, and interacting with his surroundings. My god, you think, what has technology come to? 

“So you can clean. Hm. Alright, how do you feel about helping around the house?”

“I am very good at following orders, master! Whatever you require, I will fulfill it!”

..

That’s really all there is to it. Somehow, someway, you’ve acquired a glorified Roomba. 

Adam was all too eager to receive orders, nearly vibrating with his excitement to please to the point you nearly forgot he was still in his underwear. Dressing him was a feat in itself too; rifling through your clothes to see what would fit and then having to help him step into pants and wrestle through shirts. But by the end of it, he looks like…a human. A regular, normal, human. You wonder if you’re experiencing some kind of uncanny valley with how human he looks. 

The robot seems to have his own tastes too, surprisingly enough. He made his claim on your apron, holding it out to you for your assistance and rearranging your kitchen appliances to his satisfaction. You can’t lie, he works hard, hungry only for your praise in return. 

He’s waterproof, as he’s told you many times, so things like washing dishes and mopping the floor are no issue for him and he seems to like how shiny he can make it. You think it’s self-explanatory as to why he’d be waterproof, but Adam seems to find joy in telling you all he can do, like he’s looking for more attention and praise. You suppose it’s in his nature to want to do good. 

Despite how good he is at tidying, Adam is awful at cooking. He insisted he try after you mumbled to yourself about dinner, grabbing at the fridge to look at your bounty. Which, admittedly, was not much at the moment. 

“I have access to thousands of hours of instructional cooking videos!” He had said when you asked how he could possibly know how to cook, and the reminder that you were living with an intelligent computer sex doll hit you like a ton of bricks. 

But…those videos hadn’t done him any good. Adam served you a plate of multiple foods with a pleased smile on his face, seemingly unaware of how visually unpleasing it was. 

What lay on the plate reminded you of some prison mush. You dug with your fork, finding sparse vegetables and undercooked meat amongst what looked like oatmeal, along with a random bone that did not look like it belonged to an animal. Adam still beamed, waiting for your approval of his dish. His wide, almost wet-looking eyes reminded you of an eager to please puppy and you couldn’t find it in you to turn him down.

You ate around the meat and suppressed your gag.

Night fell quicker than you anticipated. The day was consuming, both mentally and emotionally. Your life has been uprooted, reconstructed to allow for another person- if you could really call him that. You could have sent him back, and you won’t lie that you hadn’t thought about it. But…it felt almost like a betrayal to do so, like you were abandoning someone defenseless. 

The rest of Adam’s box lies in the middle of the living room, various cords and attachments left shamefully uncovered. You look down at it, the manual laying haphazardly on top of one of Adam’s genital attachments. You need the manual. Adam is watching you. Do you…go and grab it? Is it weird to just have his junk out in the open? There really needs to be a place to put all this-

Adam kneels down, investigating his former home. He plucks the manual up and flicks through. “You don’t need this, I can tell you all you need to know.” He smiles, such a soft thing. Then he picks up his phallic attachment right by the shaft. “I also know how to put this on, if you want me to, master.” His eyes flash pink and you feel your face get hot. 

“Uh-“

“I am made for this, after all. I don’t have anything plugged in right now, but I could-“

“No! No, that's ok!” You quickly yelp, shaking your hands out in front of you. 

“Just! Just put that down and- and do you like, get charged at night or…?”

Adam blinks, the pink fading from his eyes and turning back to blue. “Yes, master! There’s a charging cable in this box, my battery is currently at twenty-eight percent.” He looks back down, putting the phallus back into its cubby, giving the other vulva attachment a casual poke. You feel sweaty. “Do you want me to retrieve it-” 

“Yes, please do.”

You decided to place him on the floor while he charged. It felt too…intimate to have him in your bed, as funny as that was. But Adam seemed happy all the same just to be in your presence. You lay down a blanket and pillow on the floor next to the outlet and you only briefly wonder if he can even feel sensation or temperature. He stands next to you, watching, hovering. 

“Is that for me?” He asks, clutching at the hem of the fresh pajama shirt you gave him.

“Yeah, sorry it's not the best.”

“I like it! Thank you, master.”

Adam sounds too soft when he says that, it makes you feel weird. 

You just grunt and stand back up. “Well, it’s all setup. I guess you just plug yourself into the charger…?” 

The robot settles onto the blanket, taking the charger in his hand and lifting up the hair on the nape of his neck. He matches the magnetic charger to the little spots on his nape and his eyes flash a beeping yellow, displaying his percentage across his iris’. It fades back to blue, and you find yourself in awe. “All done.” He smiles, little joints softly squeaking as he looks up at you.

“Good job, uh, goodnight.”You don't know what else to do or say so you pat his head, gently ruffling the fluffy hair and oh wow did they give him real human hair?

Adam appears pleased with the touch, bumping his head closer against your palm as he emits a soft whirrrrr. You feel weird again. You pull your hand away a little too quickly, mumbling another quick goodnight and crawling into your own bed. 

Turning off your bedside lamp you're left in darkness, save for Adam’s glowing blue eyes. “Goodnight, Master.” He says and lies down against the pillow, making a soft chime as you assume he powers down.

Sleep doesn’t come as quickly for you tonight.

Sleep doesn’t come that easily for you tonight.

[teeth-farie]

Finished JUST in time! A little valentines card for my apprentice!

[teeth-farie]

You go down just like Holy Mary

[teethfarieshop]

New Chainsaw Man stickers are listed on my shop!

Shop link

[ghoulfriendfangs]

Febuwhump ‘23 - “Blood on your Hands”

Day Eight: “Panic” with the Brothers (Obey Me)

The brothers comfort you after you’ve made a mess

{WC: ~600} {Brothers x reader, but could be read as platonic or romantic, a short but sweet one today, may make a sequel if this blows up}

@febuwhump

  When the door swung open- you jumped, and it was the most you had moved since the attack. You looked up, and the brothers were pouring in. The demon brothers- your family, the ones you looked up to most in this world. 

  And you wished it was anyone else.

  “I’m sorry- I’m sorry, dont come closer…”

  “Where is he- are you alright?” Satan asked.

  “Ah- are you hurt? Poor thing!” Asmo asked, getting closer.

  “Let me see what that bastard did to-“ Mammon stopped, face dropping.

  You wrang your blood soaked hands together.

  Beelzebub covered his mouth. Leviathan stood behind Lucifer.

  But it was Belphie to approach you first.

  “We came because we heard someone was attacking you, there were sounds of a magical struggle.”

  “I-I don’t, I’m sorry, please, please-“

  He holds onto your hands tightly, stopping your nails from digging into your palms.

  “Whatever happened here was not your fault. We love you, and we would never be upset with you. You can tell us, we… we understand, ok?”

  “I-I… he said he needed my help. He needed my help and he sounded so afraid- he wanted to meet me here but when I went he- he attacked me, and I didn’t have a choice, I didn’t have a choice…”

  Satan scowled at the mangled form on the floor- burned and sliced and scarred by a litany of spells.

  “…I didn’t know ya had it in ya,” Mammon said weakly. He was… afraid. His voice quiet.

  “I’m so sorry, please- please it was an accident…”

  “H-hey, hey- I’m not upset at that, are you kidding!? I… I almost lost ya!”

  Beel sat with you and Belphie. “…can I hug you?” He asked, and when you nodded he pulled you into one of those bone crushing hugs.

  “…y-you dont hate me…”

  “…why would we ever have reason to hate you? Especially over this?” Lucifer asked.

  “I-I killed him. I didn’t mean to- but he’s dead and I-“

  “Oooh poor mc, it’s always hard the first time.” Asmo patted your head.

  “First… time?”

  “You know- killing!”

  “Assmo,” hissed Leviathan, “are you dumb? Humans don’t… do that.”

  “…is that why you’re afraid?” Satan asked. “You expect us to be angry you killed one of your kind?”

  “…I’m afraid of ruining the exchange program,” you lie.

  You’re afraid they’ll hate you.

  Lucifer seemed… almost too calm. He tilted his head, looking at the body. You wonder if he’s been in a situation like this before.

  “…you have no need to worry,” he says. “You were only acting in defense, and we had made it clear that members of rad were not to harm you.”

  He steps over the remains, and takes your hand, helping you stand.

  “We’re just glad you’re alright. And we will be sure to make this… little nuisance disappear.”

  He nods to the brothers, who nod back. You feel… wrong. You’d almost rather they were disgusted- you did something unforgivable, didn’t you?

  “They’ll be in a fragile state,” Satan warns, “some of us should take them home. The rest can take care of this mess.”

  Mammon, Belphie, and Asmo are the ones to go with you first. The rest stay behind to do… you, you almost dont want to think of it.

  You feel… sick. The red coats to your hands like filth- a stain. And although Mammon is gushing about how thankful he is you’re safe, and Asmo is assuring you that to them- you did nothing wrong, you feel… you feel like a monster. You scrunch your eyes shut, hoping it will all go away.

Belphie takes your hand.

[ghoulfriendfangs]

Febuwhump ‘23 - “And Blood on the Mind”

Day Nine: “Voice Loss” with the Brothers (Obey Me)

A sequel to “Blood on your Hands,” where the brothers continue trying to comfort you.

{WC: ~700} {Brothers x reader, but could be read as platonic or romantic, mc is referred to as they/them, trauma tw}

@febuwhump

  Lucifer stood outside of your room.

  Mammon stepped out to talk to him- you were sleeping, the first time in many nights, and he didn’t want to risk it by holding the conversation in there. Belphie is holding onto you- honestly Mammon doesn’t think you’d sleep except for him being there. Leave it to the avatar of sloth. Beel sits in the chair by your bed- he refuses to stop watching over you, like he’s afraid that even in your house of lamentation someone may attack you again.

  Lucifer peers in, drinking in as much of you as he can. When you’re asleep, you seem at peace. He misses seeing you relaxed, he misses your bright smile.

  “…are they speaking yet?”

  Mammon shakes his head. “I… I’m scared,” he admits. “I mean- I know killin’ aint for humans, but I don’t understand… they were attacked! Why do they have to feel all guilty!? It ain’t right, it’s like they’re being punished for doin’ nothin’ wrong!”

  “Because.” Satan cut in, “humans aren’t wired for killing like demons are. Even in justified circumstances, they have a built in kinship to other living beings. Although a human can become desensitized… obviously mc had not been prior to this incident.”

  “Whatcha doing here? I thought you were researching ways to help!”

  Satan patted his tote. “I’m bringing my research here, I’d like to take my watch. I miss them. It’s… hard to read about what’s happening to them.”

  “B-but you can’t just take it early, I’m not done! Beel aint leaving, Belphie it’s asleep-“

  “Quiet,” Lucifer hissed. “We are not going to fight in front of them, not… not when they’re like this. If you’re quiet enough, you can both stay with them.”

  “Why even bother with the shifts then?” Mammon asks.

  “So as not to crowd them,” Lucifer replies.

  “…don’t lie,” Satan shakes his head.

  “I had just asked you not to argue in front of their room-“

  “Then don’t lie about the shifts, Lucifer. Everyone else knows why.” He looks at Beel pointedly, who shrinks into his chair. “Because if you don’t, we’ll just stay in here and forget to take care of ourselves.”

  Lucifer turns his attention to Beelzebub now- because for once he finds himself in agreement with Satan.

  “How many hours have you been here? I know Belphegor hasn’t left in nights- but at least he sleeps.”

  “…I wouldn’t be sleeping in my room either, Lucifer. I can’t sleep.”

  “They’re safe here. Even if you rest. You cannot protect them if you are exhausted.”

  “I’m not tired.”

  “They would want you to sleep.”

  “They would want me to protect them!”

  Quiet follows.

  Mammon pipes up, “hey, Beel… Leviathan’s on cooking duty and, I think someone should talk to him.” In the wake of the attack, Leviathan had yet to visit his human. He… hadn’t been doing much of anything, just remaining in his tub. It had caused some grief among his brothers, who couldn’t understand why he seemed almost afraid to visit you. Of course he was afraid- how could he see his Henry like this?

  Beel clenches his fists. He doesn’t think it's fair- but he’s worried about Leviathan too. He can only guess what the otaku is feeling, but… someone so unsocial probably doesn’t have any experience talking about his feelings. Maybe he can bring them out.

  “I’ll go- but someone needs to watch them.”

  Mammon had been watching- and a big part of Mammon wanted to keep watching all by himself. But… he knew there had been someone else who was skipping their turns.

  Lucifer told himself it was to give all his brothers the time and space to see you. They were in distress- and he couldn’t bear seeing them that way. He knew he could be an… imposing force, whether he enjoyed it or not. He wanted to give his brothers time. He told himself that, and it was mostly true, except that…

  Leviathan wasn’t the only one who had trouble seeing you like this. Mammon knew his older brother- even if half the time he couldn’t understand him. He knew Lucifer wouldn’t take a chance if it was offered to him. So instead-

  “…I hate to say it, but… I’m getting tired too. Im not sure if I can keep awake.

  Catching on, Satan continued, “but I have to read these books- they hold the keys to helping them through this.”

  “…Mammon, get some rest. Satan, don’t push yourself. I’ll watch them.”

  Lucifer sat in the chair by the bed, and barely moved from that spot. 

[ghoulfriendfangs]

Febuwhump 23 - “Left Your Mark”

Day Five: “That’s Gonna Scar” with Iliad (my Arcana oc!)

Unfortunately I attempted to draw for today. I’m not good at art but I’ve been practicing. Lower your expectations!

@febuwhump

[teeth-farie]

A Rock and a Hard Place

Julian/Delphi

Notes: oc/canon, confined spaces, frottage, fingering, trans Julian, biting

☞. . . A fic trade I did with my best friend @ghoulfriendfangs ! This is their apprentice Delphi having some fun with Julian >:3

Delphi and Julian were a chaotic mix. They knew how to have fun, even if it ultimately ended in a concussion or trying to make bail for the other.

This time, however, is a little different than the others.

The pair found themselves frantically squeezing into an alleyway after a chase with a drunken brick shithouse of a man, the drunkard stumbling past the divot in the wall a hair's breadth after Delphi and Julian squeezed in.

They wait for the footsteps and slurred cursing to fade out, their breaths heavy and hearts racing. Seconds pass by, the sounds of the night the only noise to hide their hushed panting. And when they’re positive they’ve run home free, they burst out laughing.

Julian’s laugh is like a bark, deep from his chest in a mix of relief and exhilaration. Delphi almost immediately follows, their laugh like a hiccuping snort. It’s not the first time this has happened, and it certainly won’t be the last, but as the laughter dies down and the pair begin to notice exactly how they’re puzzle pieced together, it becomes crystal clear that this is a new one.

Delphi’s thigh slots between Julian’s and his between theirs, pressed chest to chest and nearly nose to nose. It would explain why it was so hard to wiggle in to hide, and now that the danger is gone and adrenaline remains, it becomes much more…erotic. Julian can feel the heat pool in his gut, the warmth between his legs start to get hotter—and Delphi is no better, their cock stirring in interest.

“Well,” Julian says almost breathlessly, craning his neck down at the blue haired magician. “It seems we’ve gotten a bit…jammed.”

Delphi digs their fingers into his sides. “Enough talk, kiss me, pirate boy.”

A rush runs through Julian’s body, thrill catching on each of his vertebrae like Delphi was using his ribcage as a xylophone. Oh, how he loves how demanding they are.

Julian groans into their mouth when their lips collide together, his knees weak and his cunt throbbing at the thought of kneeling down. It didn’t used to be this easy to make him so needy and aching, but he supposes that’s just Delphi’s charm and allure.

Delphi presses their tongue into his mouth, sloppy and barely coordinated and just how he likes it. Julian feels smothered in them, a thigh between his and a tongue down his throat—he wouldn’t have it any other way. Delphi swallows down his whimper, fingers pressing into his hips and stomach, sliding under his loose blouse and groping his chest.

There’s a certain kind of heat between their bodies; Julian can feel Delphi’s cock chub up against his thigh, thick and hot. They wiggle their hips, grinding against his lithe thigh forcefully. A moan chokes out of his throat like he was the one rutting against a leg, muffled against the magician's eager lips.

“Y-you never skip a beat, duh-darling,” the doctor pants when Delphi lets up, mouths still close enough to breathe in each other's breath.

“You love it.” They snicker, sliding cold hands down his waistband. Julian shivers, fingertips brushing over his happy trail and slotting right into place between his thighs. His hips stutter at the feeling, familiar but always so electrifying.

“Y’r wet for me,” Delphi croons, grinning wide as they rub their fingers through his lips and folds, dipping down to that wetness and coming back up to his hardened clit. He grabs tight on their shoulders, hot fiery heat on his cheeks. “All loose too.” They say to no surprise, two fingers sliding home and crooking up.

Julian’s knees wobble and shake, his teeth biting down into his lip to muffle his cry. He can still feel the stretch of their fingers no matter how malleable he may be (and rigorous rounds the night before make sure of that). “Delphi,” he gasps, rutting his clit against their angled palm. “Delphi!” He cries louder as they crook their fingers again, slotting right against his sweet spot.

They sink their teeth into his collarbone, like biting into ripe fruit- a little pop as they pierce the flesh.

The good doctor makes a sound akin to a dying animal and euphoria all the same, clenching down on their fingers. Warm blood bubbles and gushes, dirtying Delphi’s tongue and they groan happily, humping their swollen cock against his leg. Julian’s hand shakes as it rises, cradling the back of their head as they bite and suck, almost vampiric in nature. He certainly wouldn’t mind if they drained him dry.

“Good boy,” he can hear muffled and grunted into his kiss bruised skin, dull pain setting his nerves alight. He preens under the praise, following Delphi’s pumping fingers with his narrow hips. Each thrust in has the heel of their palm grinding deliciously against his needy clit, their fingers stroking and rubbing right where he needs them to.

Delphi dislodges their teeth and kisses the fresh wound, their stomach growing tight and aching as they seek the friction they crave from Julian’s thigh. They grow sloppier, yet still energetic, pinning him to the wall with their hips and hands, rutting against his tensed muscles. They’re close, he knows it.

“Please,” he begs, riding their fingers, wetness coating his pants. “Please, c-cum, please, please,”

His fate is in their hands, they could leave him aching and hungry, they could tease him more, but they’re already so close.

“Do it then, hah, birdy boy.” Delphi lovingly teases, and opens their mouth again-

And bites firmly down on his peaked nipple. Julian jumps and sobs like he’s holding a live wire, and it’s just enough to send him over. He squirts right into Delphi’s hand and soaks his pants. It trickles and bubbles through the fabric, splattering onto the dirt ground.

The magician suckles on his abused nipple in apology, fingers pulling from his cunt to firmly rub his clit as they chase down their high, bruising Julian’s hips and thighs with the forceful grind- growing shaky and unsteady until it all coalesces and they cum in their pants with a gasp.

The air is thick and heady, heavy breaths passed back and forth. Both bodies are still cramped and sweaty, but now with jelly bones.

Delphi pulls their hand out of Julian’s pants when he cries of overstimulation, his legs and everything in between sore and spent.

“Hah..haha, a quickie for the books, right?” He laughs breathlessly, his bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead.

“Definitely,” Delphi admires their handiwork with a sigh. “Wished I coulda fucked you proper, though.”

Julian’s face burns so hot they could fry an egg on it. Perhaps…he’s not as spent as he thought.

[teeth-farie]

You like to think you’ve been in your fair share of funny situations, but this is something else. You’d consider yourself of noble heritage, even if you weren’t close to inheriting any power yourself, but it seemed to be enough for dumb criminals to try and snag you for ransom.

“You’ve done well.” You say, standing in the doorway of your hotel room. Your new self appointed bodyguard grins dumbly at the praise. Maybe he was beneficial; even if he practically chased you down at the saloon you’d been at.

“All in a day's work! And, y’know, maybe you need some more guarding inside the room too?” Vash looks hopeful, and you would have been blind not to notice his little crush earlier. And, well, he was successful in protecting you, and it’s not like he’s bad looking either, he was actually kind of cute…

“You know what? I think I do, come along now.”

He nearly jumps in excitement and surprise, hurriedly trailing after you. He reminds you of a dog in a way, obedient and eager to please. “I never did catch your name, either.” You say, sitting down on the edge of your bed.

“Well! It’s actually a little complicated—oh, I always get a bit embarrassed when someone asks,”

“That’s quite alright, I think I have a name in mind for you anyway, actually.”

“Really?” His eyes are bright and nearly sparkling, bouncing on his feet.

“Yeah,” you smile, “how about ‘Spot’? Sounds fitting for you, I think.”

Vash goes red in the face, eagerly nodding his head. “Y-yes, ma’am! That sounds amazing, ma’am!”

“Then why don’t you come over here so I can reward your brave work, spot?”

It takes a second for it to register in his brain, but as soon as it does he’s answering with a bark and an enthusiastic scramble to your feet.

“Come on, up here,” you pat your lap. Vash looks at your thighs nervously, but settles nonetheless. “I’ve never sat on someone’s lap before,” he laughs, the sound melting into a whimper when you place your hands on his thigh and stomach.

“Then let me make this first especially nice for you.”

Your hands reach to his belt and he stops you. “I,”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m, uh, I’m not the prettiest under the clothes, haha..” he answers sheepishly, his downturned eyes now showing…shame.

“I bet your body is just as cute as your face, spot. But if you don’t wanna take anything off, I can just work around that.”

He bites his lip, chewing on the skin as he thinks. He imagined that maybe he’d be the one pleasing you, but the other way around, that’s something new. “How?” He asks softly.

“Well…” you start, moving your hands from his belt to his crotch, cupping him there. “I can rub you through your pants like this, how about that?”

Vash gasps, hips rutting into your palm. “G-good!” He yelps in response, his clothed cock chubbing up at the attention.

“Good.” You purr, gently circling your hand over his growing bulge, running your fingers over the outline it makes in his pants. He makes a pitiful little sound, like a cross between a whimper and a cry. Carefully, he holds onto your shoulders.

“Doesn’t that feel good, spot?” You rub a little firmer, pressing your fingers to where his sac would be.

“Woof!” He answers, grinding against your hand. It’s a little awkward, something he’s never done before, but the outcome just feels so good. Even through his thick pants he’s starting to drip and twitch. “Good puppy, that’s it, take your reward.” You coax him on, encouraging his shakey little thrusts against your hand.

“K-kiss?” He pants out, tongue peeking from his lips. You grab the back of his head and pull him forward, your mouth colliding with his. Vash is sloppily and uncoordinated and something tells you that despite his flirtations, he must not be kissed very often. He makes a cacophony of sounds that you swallow eagerly, rolling your palm and fingers with the movements of his hips.

Vash grapples at your shirt, the fabric bunching under his fingers. He can feel your tongue press against his, he can feel you licking over his teeth, and his eyes roll back into his head when you force his mouth open and spit down his throat.

“Maaaasterrrr,” he gurgles, nearly bouncing in your lap. “Master, huh? You’re really an obedient puppy, aren’t you?” You coo, nipping at his jaw. Vash shivers, tongue lolling from his mouth with a wet moan when you squeeze his aching bulge.

“Come on, spot, are you close? I bet you’re real pent up, huh? No one’s given you the touch you needed, have they? Poor baby. Go on and cum for your master.”

You have the privilege of watching his face screw as he chases his high, his jaw slack and eyebrows furrowed, hips rutting into your hand almost like he was feral. He’s whimpering, slurring out your name- and he screams a silent scream when he finally climaxes, his toes curling in his boots and his fingers digging into your shoulders.

“There we go,” you massage him through his orgasm, feeling the fabric grow warm and wet under your skin. “That’s it, what a good boy.” You kiss him sweetly, moving to pepper them across his cheeks. Vash croons softly, his legs trembling. “I-I think,” he begins, swallowing thickly. His face and neck are sweaty and flushed red and you wonder how far down it spreads.

“I think I’m ready to take my clothes off now, hehe..”

“Atta boy, spot.”