odin

What I wouldn’t do for a three way make out sesh with Thanos and nam gyu rn. Maybe to spice things up you put a pill in your mouth and almost laugh at how desperately they fight for it. Thanos, being the selfish asshole he is, more or less cuts nam gyu out, too focused on shoving his tongue down your throat and trying to climb into your lap so he can grind on you.

You can’t tell if nam gyu starts whining because he wants a kiss or he wants a pill (or both) but you hardly notice him until he starts licking up your neck and his cold hands slowly trail down your chest and fiddles at the waistband of your pants.

Bonus points if they start fighting over who gets to suck you off first before resorting to practically making out on your cock one on each side ykykyk

YUM

electric fueled adefemi akinola ( cyberpunk oc ) x racer ! bttm ftm reader

The city of dreams they called it. Nothing short of a dream when you're seeing holograms reach out to you, and people on the streets with metal and wires embedded into their skin. Adefemi was no stranger to it, having one fully cyberware arm himself.

Day and night he ran this little shop, favored by racers who badly beat up their rides on those hellish courses—only the best of the best could make it through without missing at least a bolt or more. People drove their vehicles in and out, scratched and dented for him to fix with a price.

Though, he had one recurring customer he'd always slip in a discount, for whatever reason he could find.

“'Nother crash?” Adefemi chuckled as he saw you duck under the roller, and push your bike towards him.

You'd come almost everytime he was about to switch that open sign closed, everytime the sun lowered it's harsh rays past the horizon and just barely seeping through the cracks of those high rise buildings. Nonetheless, Adefemi had his shop on the outskirts of the city, so there was nothing but desert and maybe a few gas stations out front. It was far enough that the sun could come through without the disturbance of the buildings.

“Yeah,” he hears you sigh, walking out from behind his workbench as he takes a good look at the state of your bike. All battered and bruised like you'd deliberately swung a bat at it just for an excuse to see him again—or so he'd hope you did.

He ran one metallic finger over the flat surface of your bike, running over the jagged edges of metal from concrete slashes. It seemed like you really had a tough time this race.

“I could probably fix her up in a few days,” He concluded, pulling away from the bike as he rose to a stand from his previous squatting position. He glanced down at your back and then back to you, taking that damned face of yours.

“Say, you came here few weeks ago didn't 'cha?” Adefemi tucked one arm under another as he tilted his head slightly to the left, his metal arm glinting in the low light of the shop. “If you just wanted an excuse to see me, just walk in,” he shrugged, his dark eyebrows raising with the rise of his shoulders.

“Before I get to work, any metal needin' fixing for you?” One thing he liked about you was how human you were. You strayed away from bulky cyberware sticking mainly to little enhancements, never anything flashy like a metal spine or a chrome leg. It made Adefemi think of you less like a metal zombie.

“Maybe just a routine check-up will do.” It didn't hurt to get checked up occasionally seeing that you pretty much neglect your metal needs. You didn't have anything flashy enough to constantly take care of, which was good in a way.

Adefemi nods, hand on his hip as he juts his thumb behind him, pointing to the medical recliner chair hidden behind the plastic translucent curtains. It was very much like a medical setting, one you'd find in a hospital if it wasn't so worn out and stacked with metal parts and whatnot.

You climb onto the chair, laying awkwardly down on it. The fabric of the chair sticks to your bare skin as you adjust your position on it to get comfortable.

Adefemi comes in shortly, pulling those plastic curtains around the two of you as if there were people to see—there wasn't. But it undoubtedly sets the "doctor" mood.

He's wearing one blue glove on his hand with flesh and bones while he disinfects his metal one. They're a sort of silicone material for his fingers, but his palm and the rest are full metal. But it always changes, everytime you come Adefemi always has a new set of fingers like he switches them out based on preference.

“Just a regular check-up aye?” He leans on the side of the recliner with one forearm along it before pushing himself off of it to grab a few tools. “How's your eyesight? I could enhance your night vision if that suits your fancy.”

Night vision. Crucial for races in the dark, especially when those other sadistic assholes always push to ride in the night. You were never one to be into that sensory depravation stuff when it comes to races, preferred to know when you're about to hit the curb and total yourself and your bike.

“I'll take that as a yes,” Adefemi doesn't need a verbal confirmation from you, he just knows from that look in your face “This might sting or feel a bit weird but if you need—one—nice, warm hand to hold onto, I can take off my glove.” What a charm.

You almost consider his proposal when the tweezers come dangerously close to your eye; he's already done the necessary calibrating and loosening screws to ease the process but you can never get used to having your eye plucked out of your head.

It's jarring feeling yourself lose vision in just a second, all you could do is hear Adefemi walk around with his heavy boots against stone cold floors. He's talking—which is a relief—about anything just to reassure you that he's still there and he hasn't disappeared.

Your fingers twitch a little when he's slotting your eye back into its socket; a few blinks and everything seems just a tad bit sharper, clearer.

“What a big boy,” He's praising you, but in the way a mother would do to her son, which only slightly offended you, “Didn't need me to hold your hand, so brave.”

His chest puffs out every time he laughs and he's ruffling your hair before moving on. You see his eyes flicker a gentle blue as he scans your whole body in what you guess for any signs of injury. It was common that you'd get at least a few scratches or cuts from your races.

He pauses after seeing a particularly nasty gash running from your hip bone down to your inner thigh. You must've taken quite the fall to get something like that, to have a gash all the way from the side of your hip to your thigh.

“Nasty,” he grimaces, almost as if visualising how you got it. “I gotta get a little close n' personal, hope that's alright,” He raises his palms, holding his hands up in surrender and to show his peace.

He's unbuttoning your pants and sliding it under your legs, folding it neatly and placing it on the table beside him. You can tell he's been raised well, folds your clothes efficiently and neatly, makes you wonder if he's the type of person to have his closets and drawers all tidy like that.

He pushes the bottom of your underwear up to see a little more of that marred skin. He takes a good look at it before grabbing a cotton ball and gently dabbed it along the cut. There were some awkward moments were he had to blindly apply the medication to the gash that was covered by your clothing. The cotton ball was coated in some sort of antiseptic which inevitably stung, and before you could squirm or start kicking him in the face out of pain, Adefemi uses his cold, metal hand to hold you down by your thigh.

“Don't go thrashing your legs like a madman, you'll hurt yourself more than me,” His voice is lazy, almost tired but still has a playful lilt to it. His hand eventually travels to your lower stomach, and he applies a gentle heat to his hand to soothe you—an enhancement he gave himself.

It's a new one, since you've never seen him use it before but it's nice, like a heat pack resting on your tummy.

“New enhancement?” You ask, and momentarily the stinging pain is forgotten.

“Yeah, you like it? I got a few others too,” His eyes are trained on your wound but his mind is focused on your words. A true multi-tasker. He lifts his head to reach for some bandages, before he looks back up at you.

“I'm gonna take off the uh—rest just so I can bandage you properly,” He's sliding down your underwear extremely slowly, giving you enough time to back out and tell him to stop if you ever got uncomfortable. He slides it down your legs and off from your feet, placing it on top of your folded jeans.

He lifts your thigh up just enough for him to roll the bandage under and over the flesh. Both his hands are on you, one metal hand gently cupping the side of your thigh while the other secures the white bandages over your wound. You're staring at his face, gazing at the way his eyes always seem to flicker to one specific spot. It makes you concious to say the least, but you'd trust him with your whole body.

Adefemi seems to notice your darting eyes and he sighs with a small smile, shaking his head as he looks up at you.

“Gettin' nervous are we?” He drawls, his voice a low rumble as if etched with a lack of sleep—or too much, “We can check that up too, If you're up for it.”

You can't bring yourself to say no, it's been awhile since you've really been able to spend time with your good ol' mechanic in that way. Though you're not entirely sure if he genuinely means to check or if he's inviting you to do something else.

“Y'know dysfunction is gettin' real common lately.”

Right.

“Can't hurt to treat it early, can it?”

Right.

You slowly nod, tilting your head to the side mostly out of embarrassment. He's so slow in his movements, gently brushing his fingertips along your folds, using two fingers to push them apart in a V shape. Its a strange feeling, cold metal on the warmest part of your body, it makes you twitch. Adefemi stays in that position, just staring at your flesh, taking note of whatever he's observing.

“Looks good, I'll run a few tests alright?” You know what he's implying with that, and he's taking it a step further by flexing his metallic hand “We can test my new features while we're at it.”

He shifts to stay beside you rather than at your legs, one hand leaning over the table beside your recliner with a pen between his fingers while his other hand rests low on your pelvis.

“At anytime you feel any pain or uncomfort, let me know,” He's using that fake tone of his to make himself sound a little more like a real doctor. More than the back alley mechanic he is.

He's careful with his movements as he slips a finger over your slit, the base of his finger brushes against your clit as he dips the tip into your opening. He hears you gasp a little and you can faintly hear a small chuckle to himself, followed by the scribbles of pen on paper.

He's so slowly rubbing his finger in and out, ensuring everytime he pulls his finger out, he digs the ball of his palm against that sweet nub. The mechanical heat from the rest of his metallic hand on your lower stomach doesn't help either; its almost soothing despite how agonisingly gentle and lazy he's being with you.

Adefemi glances back down at you before speaking, “Don't freak out, yeah? I ain't here to hurt you. It's just a little buzz—it'll feel good in a sec'.”

You feel a soft vibration from his finger, like a slow massage gun. He lets you adjust, getting all your squirms and soft whimpers as you restrain your back from arching up into his hand.

He slots another finger in—his ring finger alongside with his middle—firmly warming his fingers deep within your tight walls before upping the intensity. He arches his hand up from its resting position along your body, pressing his thumb against your clit. Adefemi rubs it in deep circles, observing the way you rake your fingers against his poor chair and hike your knees up to half-assedly alleviate the overwhelming sensation.

“You enjoying yourself?” He snorts at the tremble of your eyelashes and the whines bubbling in your throat, “Feels good don't it? Got it just for seein' pretty boys like you come all unwrapped.”

He pulls his soaked fingers from your cunt, rubbing your aching pussy like a gentle caress before delving his fingers back inside. You would've thought the soft scribbling in the background would drive you insane but its hard to think about what pisses you off more than what pleasures you.

“You gonna come pretty boy?” He teases slowly, the drowsiness of his tone was pretty much hypnotising—the things this man could do with his voice alone. His lazy chuckles were a product of seeing your pre-cum spray out from the frequency of the vibrations his hand was giving off, and the desperate raise of your hips to meet his fingers.

“Hmm... ain't that right?”

He writes down something for one last time before he places the pen down, turning his full attention to you. His free full flesh hand comes down on your head, stroking along the direction your hair sprouts from the crown of your head.

Adefemi's gentle head caresses have a great difference to his other hand. He's taken the responsibility to get you across the edge, curling his fingers agaisnt your sweet spot as he starts thrusting his fingers. It makes an obscene plap noise each time he pounds his thick, metal fingers into you.

With the hand so delicately stroking your hair, he grips it enough to manipulate the angle of your head, tilting it back so he can better hear all those noises spill from your mouth.

As your legs shake and your eyes squeeze shut, Adefemi hums softly, watching as you soak his recliner with the evidence of your orgasm. He works you through the after-high tuning down the vibrations and focusing on making it feel comfortable.

“Better than I thought,” He notes, sliding his fingers out before walking over to the sink to wash his hands. He glances back at you, legs shut and your head tilted back as your chest rises and falls from your breaths.

“Nothin' to worry about,” he swivels back around, grabbing your underwear as he wipes your bottom half with a warm cloth, slipping the fabric over your ankles, up your thighs and around your hips.

He reaches over and grabs your pants, helping you put them back on and even doing up your buttons for you.

“Next time though, if you just wanna see me, you don't hafta' crash your bike over it.”

Live, Lust, Love Ch. 01

Bottom Male Reader x Male Yandere Harem

Finally here with Live, Lust, Love, this is going to be in 2nd POV to see what I like more, second or third, so I'm sorry for the confusion.

In general this fic is NSFT/NSFW content, ik this is a ran through idea for stories but Live, Love, Lust is gonna be one of my babies. It has DD:DNE content as well, and yes a yandere harem.

cw: exhibitionism and voyeurism, mentions of multiple rounds. sry if I missed some

1.7k words