#did I write these at 12pm?

[perry-the-platypus-f1cs]

Some of my COD cold war/MW headcanons :)

(may contain sad stuff????)

1.Before Bell was brainwashed he didn't have any dog tags or identification on him because of Perseus's security rules and so when he was being brainwashed by the CIA he had a period of time where he didn't know who he was. he was lost, existing just to feel pain again and again until he was "reborn"

2.Graves and Adler are father and son. they both have a good relationship with each other and Adler helped Graves start shadow company and occasionally Graves will visit Adler to ask for help, advice or intel and Adler is happy to provide but sometimes he asks a couple of questions before helping.

2.5. When graves was little he got VERY sick one time and so he was set up on the couch with a opossum plushie, a hot chocolate in a "worlds best son" mug and wrapped like a little burrito in his blanket (Adler has a photo of this as his phone background)

3. Nolan is "animal control" in konni. you see a spider? call Nolan. you see a snake? call Nolan. you see a kangaroo? call Nolan. no one knows how he does it he just does

4. Nolan has and will fight someone over TimTams NEVER under any circumstance steal Nolan's TimTams (he has an entire stock. I'm talking shipping container stock)

5. Melina loves mock tails. LOVES them. tastes good? looks fancy? no hangover? she loves them.

6. soap has used chat gpt to write one of his reports once. he got caught immediately by price. reason why? "the last few reports that you have given me looked like a child wrote them. this one sounds like shakespeare's coming back from the dead."

[theriverbeyond]

spent all of today with my laptop open to my google docs and have written a grand total of -3 words. imagine if they invented a brain that functioned ❤️

[verifiablebot]

Hey, so I'm collecting people's thoughts on this, and since it isn't explored in canon a lot..

Why do you think exactly Pete fell for Vegas and Vegas fell for Pete? (except the slight stockholm syndrome and insanity, why do you think they fell for each other?)

so i was going to keep this brief and i ended up writing a whole ass mini-fic because god do i have Thoughts and Feelings but it boils down to this:

maybe sometimes when you’re empty you seek out any feeling at all even if it’s pain.  And maybe when you’re angry you seek out something to hurt until it surrenders to you.  And maybe sometimes you both get your claws into each other and can’t let go.  because there’s that poem, you know, sometimes suffering can feel like religion, and when you find someone who loves to hurt as much as you love to be hurt…obsession grows insidious and deep.  It’s not love, it’s a trauma bond, but it’s there and they’re going to be stuck in it until the oroboros eats itself alive.

[onyourstageleft]

sometimes you really just look back to five years ago and think "damn, how was I in grad school taking 3 classes, teaching 2 sections of a class, being a part time restaurant manager, and playing D&D regularly?"

[natedevereaux]

writing is so scary how do people ever write anything

[fazcinatingblog]

I was on the phone to Sophia from like 5pm till 5:20 and so I asked if the weather would stay alright because I had tentative plans for dinner and she's like "oh, dinner. With your parents?" and I'm like no and then idk she asked male or female and I said male and she's like "oooh male, interesting!!" and then she asked if he's nice and idk my brain short circuited, like I'm thinking "what do you mean is he nice, you'd know" but of course she has no idea so I'm like "yeah he's really nice" and

[hoonieyun]

the girl is mine

pairing: lee heeseung x reader x park sunghoon genre: love triangle, smau, fluff, romance warnings: stated in each chapter

synopsis: yn goes to the club to get over her ex, intending to get drunk and find a guy to help her forget, only to meet two boys who are dressed too similar for her to realize they aren't the same person.

alternatively: at the end of "black coffee or cream & sugar" heeseung and sunghoon go to the club with their friends, they both end up meeting a girl who they've deemed as "the love of their life" but heeseung & sunghoon don't realize the love of their lives is the same girl.

status: coming soon... late august/early september 2025 taglist: open! please check your perms before requesting to be added minors, blank, and ageless blogs will be ignored schedule: new chapter every mon, wed, fri at 12pm pst!

characters ⭑.ᐟ

surprise!!! this smau takes place in the same universe as "black coffee or cream & sugar" after the events of the very last chapter of that series :3 you guys loved that smau so much and so did i and i thought what better way to keep up the vibes from that smau than to make a spinoff!!!

⋆˙⟡ — more under the cut !!!

chapters:

1. my dream girl 2. on the hunt 3. i don't need training wheels 4. you don't even have a job 5. swear jar more to come...

ᡣ•.•𐭩♡ @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @manaah02 @zorange13 @firstclassjaylee @kristynaaah @17ericas @heeseung64 @leipforggy @s1rawb3rry @ddeonuswife @orxngebloods

@right-person-wrong-time @bbsantc @httpenhoon @nheyri @ilovbeshotaro @clxssy1997 @shuichi-sama @hunnyuwu @insommni4 @starfallia @sunnysidesins @hyunjinslongasslegs @sweetiejaeyun @nujeskz @ikeuheartz @manuosorioh @wonuziex @lovenha7 @yena-enha @jaysguitarstring @seyoungiesleeps @letwiiparkjay @ikeulove @delirioastral @i-peachesandstrawberries @starniras @luvchaew i've added people from the original taglist for black coffee or cream & sugar since this is a spin off! lmk if you'd like to be untagged <3

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

[https-murdock]

3:12pm - matt murdock

summary - Matt is always listening, even when he’s meant to be working.

word count - 1.3k

warnings - MDNI 18+ - phone sex, dirty talk, use of good girl and having rules in the bedroom, female masturbation, please tell me if i forget anything!

note - first time writing phone sex eeee, sorry if it’s shitty :) love u all (credits to og pic poster)

— — —

Matt listens - that’s obvious in many ways, but mostly in the way he can tell exactly what you mean, what you feel, just by the tone of your voice.

The way your voice heightens, pulls at the strings of his heart every time you laugh - like the most beautiful song he has ever heard. Often, he hears the way you drawl, drag the words out when you tell him how much you love him - he even hears it in the way you say it too quickly before you leave for work in the morning.

But the thing Matt loves most in this world - was listening to the change in your vocal chords as you fell apart beneath him. The way you became breathy, almost drunk on his touch, and he could always hear it in the way you begged for more of him.

Not being able to see you sometimes bothered him - but he got his fill from hearing you, hearing every change, movement and lift in your voice wherever you were - because, as you know, Matt listens. It didn’t matter where you were, what you were doing, Matt knew about it - to make sure you were safe, of course.

That’s why he was looking for your contact in his phone as soon as he heard your breathing, the way you whimpered - he knew exactly what was going on: you were touching yourself, and there was no way in his God’s hell he was letting this happen without him at least having a part in it.

After all, what good was having superhuman hearing if he didn’t put it to good use?

It was 3:12pm, and unfortunately for him - and you - Matt, Foggy and Karen were all swamped with cases, files strewn everywhere there was no way he could get off early, not matter how much he was so desperately craving to fuck you into the matress as stress relief. So, instead he chose the next best option - calling you while he finally had a few minutes to himself in his office.

“Hey, baby.” You answer, and it just confirms his suspicions when your voice comes through the speaker light, breathy - exactly how it was when he had you falling apart. “Sweetheart, what are you doing?” he asks, skipping past the beginning of a conversation in search of the truth.

“I-i’m-“ you stutter, a little giggle leaving your throat before you hear him start again.

“What did I say, sweetheart?” He starts, and he knows exactly what the answer will be before you even say it, so he doesnt let you respond before he carries on, “you think i can’t hear you getting yourself off without me?”

As your heart starts picking up speed, you realise he has been listening this whole time; he has been listening to the way your fingers glide through your slick, already sensitive to touch at the thought of him being home in a few hours - could you have waited for him to get home? Sure, but did you have the patience? No, you didn’t. 

“I’m sorry, Matt, i just couldn’t wait for you-” As you start to explain, you can hear the way he sighs in his disappointment.

“Lay back down, if you're not gonna wait till I get home sweetheart, I'll just get you off now, is that what you want?” Matt grunts down the phone, feeling the way his suit pants are tightening just at the mere thought of your moans being for him even when he isn’t there. “No, no please baby i’ll wait till your home, i need you.” You bed, and the lift in your voice tells Matt how desperate you really are, realising he won’t touch you tonight after the way you’ve acted. 

There wasn’t many rules you need to abide by to stay in Matt’s good books, but there were a few - do as you’re told, beggars can’t be choosers, and - obviously - no touching yourself unless he allows it. 

“You chose to try to make yourself cum without me, accept the consequences. Use your fingers sweetheart, let me hear you.” He instructs, and the seriousness in his voice sends a rush of warmth right to your core as you lay your head back into the pillows.

Listening and obeying his rules, you let your hand dance its way back down to where it was before. Whimpering when you feel yourself clench around your middle and ring fingers, you can hear the immediate effect you’re having on Matt - he’s enjoying this more than he cares to admit. You put the phone on speaker and carry it down to where he’ll be able to hear the obscene sounds of the way your wetness leaks from you with each thrust of your fingers, and there becomes so much more as soon as you hear him grunt, “Fuck.” 

Your fingers find a rhythm, curling gently but firmly inside your walls, your whole body screaming out just for Matt’s touch. Nothing could ever feel the way he does.

“Good girl, you like the way that feels? Feels better than when i touch you?” He asks, and you mumble something like, “N-no, wish it was you.”

“Mmm, would’ve been me if you’d have been a good girl for me. Would’ve been buried so deep inside you, fucking you like a good girl deserves.” He starts to palm himself gently under the desk, craving to feel some form of release.

“Being so good for me now, listening so well.” He approves, and the gravel in his voice sends a shiver right down to your toes, the way it does when you hear him whispering in your ear how much of a good girl you are for him.

“M’sorry, wanna come so bad.” you plead, and your voice trails like some form of whine - somehow even wetter than normal knowing he was listening to you moan his name, in his bed, all the way from his office. “Rub your clit for me sweetheart, but you can’t come yet, not till i say so.” Matt tells you, and he’s stern still, not letting up on the frustration you’ve caused him.

You do as you’re told, rubbing tight circles and listening to the slick sounds from between your thighs - Matt’s deep voice on speaker phone on your chest, one hand knuckle deep the other furiously trying not to bring you to release without him allowing it. You think about begging him for a second, knowing it’ll get him off even more than you are right now - but you want to save him for when he’s home, save all his tension for when he walks through the door and spends the night taking you in every place in his apartment.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” he’s whispering to himself, and you can feel the way your lower abdomen tenses at his words, orgasm building strongly across your body.

“I-fuck, baby i’m gonna-“ you gasp, and Matt can tell by the sound of your raspy breathing and the way your blood rushes around your body that you’re trying to hold back, but you’re right at the edge. “go ahead, honey, come for me.” he grants your exact wish, and the moment you let yourself tumble is when Matt decides he’s leaving early - no matter what Foggy and Karen have to say.

Your head hits the pillow behind you as everything takes over, fingers working yourself through your high as you can slightly hear Matt grunting through the speaker on your chest. Vision showing spots of white, your muscles tense as you wonder if you’ve finally entered heaven.

“Not sure if you can hear me still, but i’ll be home in 5.” Matt tells you, hanging up the phone immediately but still listening from his office to the way you try to control your breathing.

Matt knows the second he gets home, his night is about to be a long one - and not because of the mountain of work he has.

— tags <3 —

@lambmurdock @parker-murdock @silas-aeiou @audreyclimbs @pupmurdock @millennial-birkin @poeticbookwormcat

[gracie-eilish]

roommate billie au [pt 3.5] technically a bonus part bc i got excited about a long idea hehe]

warnings: angst if you tilt your head and squint with your glasses off, spicy innuendo/smut like reaction (no smut)

an: update!! it was @bililyy who inspired me!!! go check out her headcanon/blurb combos!! literally such a creative way to write stories/headcanons!! i hope you don’t mind me taking inspiration🥺🩷

roommate!billie, who texted or called you everyday over the winter break.

roommate!billie, who was scared shitless you’d regret the kiss.

roommate!billie, who still wanted to respect your space to figure out your sexuality. and was prepared to love you regardless of what you decided.

billie: if you ever need someone to talk to about it, you know you can talk to me, but i totally get it if you’d rather talk to someone else.

you: billie ur the only one i wanna talk to about this shit. none of my friends back home are gay, and im not this close with anyone else at school so..

billie: well i’m here whenever you need baby. i’m free right now if you wanna ft?

you: not right now. i’m about to go out with my family, but maybe when i get home??

billie: i’ll be here love.

read 6:12pm

roommate!billie, who could feel it… she was so down bad for you. in just a short six months, you had wrapped billie around your little finger.

roommate!billie, who’s family loved you but was sick of hearing about you day in and day out while billie was still home from school.

“i mean i don’t know how she does it,” finneas closed his eyes and sighed, still poking away at the monitor, working on an song of his own. but listened to his little sister gab anyway.

“she’s just so pretty. she always looks so perfect, like hair and makeup done up, cute little outfits, and her perfume, holy shit her perfume, it’s like a drug. i genuinely feel drugged when she sprays it or walks by me. fuck she’s got me under this little spell of hers..”

“billie, i think you need to tell her how you feel. it’s just gonna eat away at you for the rest of the year if you don’t.” billie sat and thought about it for a second.

“but what if she doesn’t feel the same? or what if she decides she’s not gay? then i just have to live with this angelic siren for the rest of the year, pretending not to fall in love with her??”

roommate!billie, who couldn’t sleep the night before move in for the spring semester. she was so excited to see you.

roommate!billie, who didn’t even hug her family goodbye after lunch. just jumped out of their car, calling a goodbye over her shoulder, practically sprinting up the stairs to your little dorm.

roommate!billie, who felt the world stop when she saw the faintest flush on your cheeks when she opened the door. maybe this could work…

roommate!billie, who engulfed you in the softest, warmest hug known to man. it was slow, tight, her thumbs brushing your clothed skin while she breathed in your scent, intoxicating herself on you. above anything else, she was just happy to see her best friend again.

roommate!billie, who trailed behind you like a puppy all day. messing with you while you both unpacked, trailed around the grocery store behind you, watched as you drove back and forth into town and back.

roommate!billie, who suggested having a cozy, movie night in, since classes didn’t start until monday. so you stocked up on snacks, changed into comfy pjs and got settled.

roommate!billie, who set up her new projector she got for christmas while you were in the shower. hanging up a sheet, and projecting it onto the wall next to your bed. she stacked pillows and blankets onto her bed across the room.

“ta-da!” she exclaimed, as you walked out of the bathroom, clad in pjs and a towel around your hair.

“wait shut the fuck up this is so cute!!! did you get this for christmas!” billie nodded proudly from her perch on the small bed.

you two made small talk as you dried your hair enough so it wouldn’t drip, and billie picked a movie out.

roommate!billie, who felt like her heart may beat out of her chest, when you automatically snuggled into her side, letting her wrap an arm around your waist.

roommate!you, who had never felt so safe or cherished in a relationship.. no, friendship.. or.. situationship?? whatever you two were… before.

roommate!billie, who carefully tested the waters, moving her hand to rest on your hip, right where your hoodie and sweatpants met. letting her hand rest for a few, before letting her hand slip under your hoodie to rest on the bare skin of your hip. her heart fluttered when you didn’t move.. just snuggled your head more into her shoulder.

roommate!you, who tried to mask your gasp when you felt billie’s soft fingers resting on your bare hip. you snuggled your head into her shoulder further, hoping to distract from the way you clenched your thighs together masking the wetness starting to drip between them… you’d never felt that before from a relationship..

roommate!billie, who once again, didn’t move a muscle once you had fallen asleep on her shoulder. simply just turning off the projector screen and moving the snack bags away from the two of you.

roommate!billie, who eventually needed to wake you up, as sleeping on your side like that would give you a crick in your neck.

“baby,” she whispered. “baby, i gotta move you or your gonna hurt your neck.”

you simply whined in protest, still barely awake, but not enjoying the movement to your cozy position.

“i know, so sleepy and grumpy,” she cooed, biting back a laugh. “…you wanna stay here?” she closed her eyes bracing herself for rejection.

you nodded against her shoulder. sitting up slightly so billie could lay back. before billie could even lay still, you had flopped down onto billie’s chest leaving her surprised… but melted quickly after. wrapping an arm around your back, while the other threaded into your hair. you sighed sleepily, nuzzling your nose on her neck.

roommate!billie, who checked her phone real quick. the date, january 18th, screamed at her. it wasn’t even the first day of the semester yet and she was falling even harder.

roommate!you, who for the first time in your life didn’t need a eye mask, or air conditioning, or purple humidifier light to sleep. you slept more peaceful than you ever had before that night.

… and so did billie. leaving a kiss to your forehead before drifting off herself.

[starlinggirll]

i ADOREEE ur writings very much, im looking forward for ur new work i.e. young dad!art nd young mom!reader 🤩🤩, keep going!!!!

a day with young dad!art and young mom!reader . . .

(they have a little girl in this!!)

9:00AM: your head was comfortably resting against art's bicep, hand gently clutching at his as you both slept soundly. then tiny knocks interrupted his sleep, you continued sleeping like a log, as always. "mama?" the high pitched voice made art sigh, rubbing his eyes while sitting up. "what are you doing here so early sweetheart?" he cooed, gently kissing your cheek so you could wake up. and all you replied was with a "mm, let me sleep." that was muffled against his skin. he smiled before scooping the little girl up, placing her ontop of your chest. "she wants you this morning.

10:30AM: after waking up, brushing yours and your daughters teeth, you both walked to the kitchen. to be greeted with a shirtless art cooking breakfast. you set your daughter in the booster seat before going to art so you can get your mom hugs. "you want eggs or cereal?" he would ask while resting his cheek ontop of your head. "mm cereal. i think she wants eggs." you mumbled back, glancing at the little girl gazing at both of you with curiosity.

12:00PM: "what time do we need to be at your parents house?" art asks while letting his daughter tug at his curls. "like in an hour?" you hum, resting your head on art's lap, taking advantage of the position to tickle you daughter's tiny toes. "shouldnt we start getting ready?"

1:30PM: after an hour and a half of getting ready, both of you are finally in the car. your daughter sleeping in the booster seat in the backseat while art drives. "remember, big smile, okay? and if my dad says anything unpleasant to you just tell me and i'll-" "calm down, baby." he interrupts, his hand going to your thigh. "its okay. i know how to handle myself."

1:55PM: "c'mon sweetie," you purr while taking your daughter out of the seat. "lets go see grandma and grandpa!" the little girl squeals, hugging you tightly while you carry her to the house. art following shortly after getting the diaper bag and your purse, which you had forgotten at the car.

4:58PM: "well that went..." art sighed, helping you put the little girl back into the booster seat. "better than i imagined?" he laughs softly, kissing his daughter's forehead. "see?" your hand gently rubbed his arm. "i told you they would soften up to you," he leaned into you, burying his face into your neck with a soft nod. "if you're lucky you might even be my dad's favorite son in law." you teased, wrapping your arms around art's shoulders. "i need to put a ring in that finger if yours to earn that title." he hummed, kissing your neck softly, still clutching you tightly. "yeah?" both of you looked at eachother, almost as if reading eachothers minds. "not right tho." but of you said at the same time before bursting out laughing. "yeah, not right now. but you're getting a big chunky ring when the time comes."

8:00PM: "its bed time for you, young girl." you announced while picking up the whiny little girl. "but mamaaa-" was the only thing she said, mostly because that was all the words she really knew to say properly at the moment. "uh uh, no whining or we wont go to the movies tomorrow." that shuts her up real quick. you tuck the little girl in, smiling softly before kissing her forehead. "mommy and daddy love you, soooo much." you whispering, brushing hair out of her face. "okay! good night." you walked to the door, "dont let the bed bugs bite." which was accompanied by a high pitched giggle from your daughter.

8:12PM: "did you put her to sleep?" asks art, walking out of the bathroom, hair soaked, chest glistening with water and with a towel wrapped around her waist. you nodded, laying on your stomach while watching tv. "yuppp." he sat beside you, leaning down to kiss your jaw, which resulted in his hair getting you all wet. "oh my god go away!" you whined. "you're getting everything wet!" "and not you?" he teased, cupping your thighs to pull you to him. "cant a guy not want to get his girlfriend wet anymore?" he shook his head like a dog, causing water to sprinkle everywhere, including you. "art donaldson." you muttered, glaring at him. "go dry your hair or i swear you wont be getting any action toni-" "yes ma'am." he kissed your cheek before scurrying off to the restroom.

8:20PM: he walks out of the restroom, finding your almost sleeping form in the bed. he huffs, walking to you, crawling ontop of you. "sleeping already? you promised me some 'action', dont you remember?" he whined, finding the crook of your neck to nestle his face there. "please? just one round i swear." he's totally lying. with how much you turn him on with just the slightest look his way, he knows there'll be more than just one round.

9:30PM: "a-art stop!" you whined, head resting against his shoulder, nails leaving red claw marks on his back as he fucked you missionary. "shh. you're gonna wake our daughter up," he purred, covering your mouth with his mouth while picking up his face. "you blabbered against his palm, eyes rolling back while your back arched, "m'coming!" you cried against his palm.

10:30PM: "good girl, up and down." he whispered, hands cupping your hips to guide your movements, he leaned in, your boobs suffocating his face but he didnt care, he loved this position. "faster," he whimpered against your chest, his fingers leaving red fingerprints against your flesh.

11:26PM: you layed on his chest, completely spent. you fell asleep the moment your head touched his chest. he cradled you softly, hand rubbing your lower back while his fingers brushed sweaty pieces of hair off your forehead. "goodnight." he mumbled, closing his eyes while pulling the covers up to your shoulders.

[idyllwave]

Heyy I’d like to request smth!

Would you do like waking up with the wind breaker boys?

Could you do it with sakura, umemiya, ren kaji(+plus whoever you like)!

(I LOVE YOUR WRITING BTWWW)

Thank you for loving my writing!! 💞

(Separate) Haruka, Hajime, Ren (+Jo) x Reader

HARUKA could never get used to seeing you every time he woke up in the morning. He could always feel how his face would heat up considerably any moment he would look at your sleeping face too long. And sure he may not be able to feel his arm anymore since your head had been lying on it all night long, but it was worth it. Especially when he would turn on his side to get a good look at you better.

His heart would be beating a mile a minute the longer he looks too, and almost hesitantly he would reach for you with his free hand and gently brush aside any stray hairs that were covering your face, but would instantly freeze on the spot when you would shuffle closer to him.

“Morning Sakura.”

His heart exploded right then and there when he heard your groggy morning voice and see you try to get closer to him in your shared bed.

HAJIME was the most excitable when he woke up in the morning (not in that way). The moment his eyes would crack open his gaze would be on and his smile would already be overtaking his lips as he would wrap his arms tight around you (which would wake you up in the process) and roll over so that you were now lying atop his chest.

“Hajime?!”

“Morning beautiful!”

You grumbled and would stuff your face into his chest, “five more minutes.”

You knew he liked to take care of the house plants the moment he woke up to start the day, but five more minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?

And Hajime loved to indulge you! And, without fail, your morning five minute cuddle session turned into an hour-

REN always acted cool, even in the supposedly soft moments like waking up in the morning. Though, luckily for you, you always managed to wake up first. And every time you did you would do a little cheer because it meant you could gush all over how cute Ren was without him getting all blushy and in denial with you.

Today wouldn’t be one of those moments because the moment you opened your eyes you saw a camera flash go off making you rub your eyes.

“Huh?”

Ren was already sitting up in bed, phone in hand as he snapped another picture but with the flash off this time.

“What?”

You pouted, “usually I’m the one who gets to take pictures of your cute sleepy face.”

“Next time.”

You huffed and made grabbed at him, causing him to fall forward so you could cuddle with him for a few minutes before you both had to get ready for the day. Next time for sure!

It took a lot to wake JO up in the morning’s, but the moment he felt you even shift an inch from where you were in your cuddle position with him he would immediately wake up and pull you back in.

Didn’t matter how late in the morning it was either, the team needed him? They can wait a little longer, like after 12pm or something which of course always made you mad since you actually had stuff to do today. However…, with his warm body encompassing you and the fan gently blowing and everything just being so peaceful, well, your anger never lasted more than two seconds before your closing your eyes again. In other words, waking up in the mornings with Jo is nonexistent, but waking up in the afternoons are more the norm for you two.

[birlemsbae]

- newborn mornin’s

9:30 am:

i woke up to the sound of the white noise coming from my nightstand. thank god i didn't wake up to the sound of crying. chris and i came back from the hospital about 6 months ago and our daughter, amaya, was born and she's been great.

i rub my eyes together and look at the crib next to our shared bed to see amaya still sleeping. i contently sigh to myself, knowing i had at least a few minutes to myself this morning.

i quietly get up from my bed and head over to the bathroom. i do my skincare, brush my teeth, and fix my hair before going back to my room, noticing amaya has woken up.

"hi baby." i smile down at my daughter. all she did back was give a tired smile. i pick her up out the crib and move over to chris's side of the bed. "we're gonna wake up daddy."

i sit down near the edge where chris was sleeping. i stroke and kiss his cheek. he hums and shifts under the covers before sitting up. "who's that? is that dada?" i say, laughing softly with my amaya.

"hey kiddo, c'mere." he says, taking her from my arms. he holds her tightly to his chest and gestures for me to come closer. "morning mama," he says, kissing my neck.

10:45 am:

after we had breakfast, we were supposed to go shopping, so we did exactly that.

"okay baby, lets put your shoes on." i grab amaya's shoes and start to put the on her and chris brings he jacket from upstairs to me. i put that on her as well and put her in the carseat. "aren't you just the cutest thing?" i kiss her cheek and put her in the car.

chris comes down from the house and gets into the car. "you ready?" he asks me.

"mhm," i murmur out, already tired and the day hasn't even started.

12pm:

when we had gotten back from the store and amaya was already down for her nap, chris and i lay on the couch, watching tv. we're in a cuddling position where i'm laying in a ball on his lap and chest and he's supporting me.

"you know," i start. "you're a really good dad."

he chuckles lightly and let's out an, "i try, mama."

"i mean helping out with her jacket this morning, the groceries, picking them out and bringing them in..."

"baby, i do this everyday, why are you just saying something now?"

"i'm just lucky to have you." i kiss his jaw.

"see that ring on your finger?" he points to the ring. "we made a deal, and this all comes with that."

i laugh, "i love you."

"i love you more." he kisses my head.

a/n: i’ve always wanted to write a plot for dad chris and i love it! thanks for all the support i appreciate you all!! 💕

[forgetmenotnympho]

‧₊˚It's 5'o clock somewhere ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

𐔌 . ⋮ hi ty .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

hi again!! nothings bett3r than a kiss or two from clark kent... oh 3xcept for maybe a kiss or two from clark kent while bruc3 wayne calls you pr3tty. he'll give you a kiss too dww~

𐔌 . ⋮ ty talks .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

its nearly 3am.. i was so locked in writing this that i just might have to write the smut scene because why clark start getting freaky omggg im not even tired idk why but please lmk !!

warnings? : ̗̀➛ sad reader, clark/bruce comforting reader, suggestive, mentions of alcohol, older bruce/clark

perspective? : ̗̀➛ second

ᵒʰ, ˡᵒᵒᵏ!

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋⭑꒷꒦▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10 ꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋⭑꒷꒦

your boys left a voice memo,,

ⁱ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ

it's actually 12pm noon. You haven't gotten up yet, but that's okay. You don't really feel like it, and that's okay too. This always happens, every single year without fail. "Are you sure you're alright?" A kind voice asked as fingers gently brushed your hair out of your face. Moving to Metropolis was hard, even if it was such a charming place to live. It was hard being away from all your friends and your childhood town, but you were on your last spring break ever, in your last year of university.

Today was your 21st birthday. You've always had conflicting feeling when it came to your birthday. Ever since you turned thirteen, you think that's when it started. It's not that you were afraid to get older, it was the changes that came with getting older that scared you.

Now, Clark was in his mid thirties. He wasn't like the other older men you'd known. He was gentle and kind. A very genuine sort of man. He liked to sugarcoat things and maybe try to shield you from certain horrors that came with reality, but he meant well. If he wanted to hurt you, you were sure he would have done it by now. Instead of the usual things men requested, the usual dirty things, Clark was rather opposed to being upfront about those things. He never initiated anything that required more than kissing, never, not once. It was sweet. Refreshing, even. And now, here he was, on his knees with his elbows resting on his queen sized mattress and careful fingers pushing your curls out of your face as you pouted. Or no- not pouting. Your face was still, null of just about everything. Your eyes, however, were glossy and the sighed of you so motionless and devoid of joy crushed Clark's heart.

"Darlin," Clark started out softly, his midwestern accent peaking through a little more than usual. It always did when be was worried like this. "You gotta work with me. I hate seeing you like this," your dark eyes scanned his face. You counted the pretty moles across his tanned face. His dimples even showed when he frowned. "You hardly said anything all morning, I hate for you to be so blue on your big day."

You didnt want to be in bed all day. You didn't want to be sad. But your body just felt so heavy and everytime you wanted to say something your throat felt so dry. You worried if you moved it would ache so you thought it better to just sit still. Stay quiet. Clark reached for your hand and caressed the back of your palm with his thumb as he rested his head on the white comforter on the bed he wasn't able to make up this morning. In your uneasy silence there was the sound of keys jingling loudly and dress shoes clinking against the wooden floors.

He was slightly older than Clark. Less than five years you thought, but you weren't 100% sure and you didn't care enough to check the hundreds of easily accessible sources to see. A couple of inches shorter than Clark, much paler and leaner than him too, Bruce had arrived. Everytime you saw him you wanted to ask what his makeup routine was, but you knew his most naturally seamless looks weren't done by himself. They never made him look younger, just more lively. It wasn't even as if many saw him so down anymore, he was so good when it came to keeping up appearances. He set his keys down on Clark's dresser before his steel blue eyes locked in on the two of you.

"Oh no baby," his voice had the slightest rasp to it, it contrasted nicely with Clark's. It sent chills down your spine and always made you feel a little bit more alive. Bruce tutted as he climbed on to Clark's bed and positioned himself behind you. "I paid too much for those pretty nails on your hands for you to.. what is it that you say all the time? 'Rot in bed all day'?"

The two men always took such different approaches to the same things. Your very own good cop/bad cop duo for just about every situation you encountered.

"Clark has been so good to you this morning, I'm sure," he glanced up at Clark who softened more with his presence. "But baby, you're too pretty for this," Bruce carefully wrapped his arms around you and brought you up onto his lap and allowed the both of your legs to hang off the side of the bed. Bruce bounced his leg softly with you on his lap and his arms around your waist as Clark watched, still on his knees next to you. "Maybe you just need a pick-me-up, huh baby?" Bruce was barely talking to you. The vibration from his leg bouncing up and down made you squirm a bit and both of them noticed. "I bet he didn't even ask you, did he? No, Clark's too much of a gentleman."

At his core Bruce is a good man. He truly is, but sometimes he is a bit much. He loves to tease. His thumb played at the hem of your lacey white boy shorts because he just loved the texture of them. How soft and delicate they made you look. You tilted your neck to the side as Bruce kissed your neck once or twice.

"Clark," you rasped, barely audible, but the sunshine perked up immediately.

"Yes ma'am?"

"can you run me a bath?"

"Of course darlin." As he rose from his knees he adjusted his glasses. He leaned down to place a warm kiss on your forehead before he turned to walk into the master bathroom. You listened to the faucet run as water slowly filled the tub and you tried not to melt into Bruce as he continued bouncing his leg, speeding up every so often. "I wanted to take you out today. You know, Gotham has some of the nicest museums in the area."

"...mmmnot in the mood,"

"That's a shame," Bruce sighed dramatically as he slipped an arm under your legs and you shifted your position so he could easily pick you up. "I would've loved for you to come by. The boys had a little surprise for you.."

"m'sorry" you mumbled but Bruce simply shook his head dismissively as he stepped into the bathroom. "Please, they'll be alright. I'll call Alfred to let them know," he smiled softly and set you down. You shivered as your feet hit the cold bathroom tiles. Rubbing your face, mindful of your manicured nails and yawned, stretching your arms up slightly, your tank top rising to reveal more of your chubby stomach.

Bruce laughed to himself, wiping his mouth with his hand to try and stop himself from smiling. "Did you know Damian has an... affinity for you?" Bruce inquired as he stared down at you. A small smile tugged at your lips as you twirled a dark curl around your finger. "Really? That's cute.. i didn't think he'd tell you something like that."

The man shook his head as Clark checked the temperature of your bath water. "Oh, he didn't. Dick found out and- well you know how cruel siblings can be," he smiled sympathetically as you nodded into him. He was an only child and discounting Clark's cousin, so was he, so they didn't truly understand the cruelty of brothers or sisters like you did. You always enjoyed entertaining conversations with the Wayne boys. Even if at first Dick wasn't your biggest fan. You never blamed him, he was a two to three years older than you, so his concerns were... valid. You and Bruce assured him nothing was amiss, and as a journalist, Clark was able to help control the media (of course, Bruce's status helped keep things quiet and you away from prying eyes).

Clark pulled at the hem of your shorts, pausing for a second as you glanced back at him. Bruce had found a silk scarf hanging up on the bathroom door and grinned at the fact that you'd often leave your things with either of them- that's why you could never find anything. "Thank you," you say softly to Clark and his face flushed as he smiles sheepishly, pushing his glasses up on his face as he pulls the lace off of your body. You step carefully out of the shorts as Bruce thoughtfully ties your thick curls up with the silk scarf so your hair doesn't get wet in the bath. Then, at the same time both men reach for the hem of your tank top.

"I was thinking... lift up your arms doll... if you really wanted we can stay here." Bruce said as he looked past you and at his second companion who nodded simply at the notion. You lifted your arms way above your head so they could slip you out of your tank top. "We could have a couple of drinks. It is your 21st after all. Clark?"

"You know I don't keep alcohol sweetheart," Clark continues their conversation, his hand resting on your lower back when you lift one leg to step into the soapy tub. Bruce catches a wonderful glimpse and bites his tongue. "Right. How could I forget," his tone is flat and mocking. He watches as you sink into the bathtub, imagining for a split second that the white suds covering your breasts might've been something else. He cleared his throat mindfully because for once he wasn't the only one staring. "Well, if Clark behaves we can run out and get you pretty bottle of vodka, how's that sound?" Clark makes a sour expression in the playboy'a direction to which he only gets a billion dollar smile in return.

"You can wear that pretty little dress you like so much too," Clark says as you scrub your legs above the waters surface. "You know it's Bruce's favorite. He tells me all the time,"

Bruce crosses his arm and leans against the bathroom counter, watching, knowing Clark is sifting through his thoughts right now. It was no use fighting. "Alright, Clark." He tried to warn, but his tone was weak and almost submissive. When Bruce got like this, defensive, Clark got shameless. "Do you know why Bruce loves helping you pick your new nail sets, darlin?" You opened your mouth, but the journalist didn't let you contribute. "He likes the look when your hands are wrapped around him," Clark stepped away from you and the bath to join the other by the sink. "He loves how it looks when the pretty designs disappear when you masterbate, don't you, Bruce?" He placed a threatening kiss onto Bruce's lips. You swore you heard him moan into Clark as his hips twitched slightly. You blinked over to your boys, your stomach fluttering at the words you were hearing.

You couldn't wait to put on that little dress. Maybe all you needed was to get a little dressed up. There was such a thick tension. Clark suggested walking to the corner store and getting cheap liquor because believe it or not when he drank for the first time that's what he got. Cheap ass alcohol from the gas station near his parent's house, not like Bruce who had access to carefully crafted and thoughtfully fermented wines. It being cheap adds to the quality, he assured Bruce as he patted his shoulder. Today the two men weren't concerned with the media at all. Bruce knew he'd have to pull some strings to allow you this peaceful day as did the other.

They tried to focus on whatever conversation topic you had taken up but there was a slight breeze, and your dress really was short. You tugged at the skirt of the dress in the back as you walked slightly in front of them. Walking into the corner store it was like watching a little kid in a candy store. The way your face lit up excited them. It was sweet seeing you so alive again. You scanned the aisle and aisle of alcohol as if you really knew what you were looking for. Clark and Bruce stayed behind you the whole time, making soft suggestions but ultimately letting you pick whatever you wanted. When you bent down to search a lower shelf, you bent at the waist. Your ass brushing against Bruce's growing hard on. Disgustingly, he leaned into it. Your breath hitched in your throat and your eyes widened a bit. Clark's eyes did too. Once you straightened your posture Bruce's bit his lip, slightly ashamed as the journalist chastised him quietly. The billionaires face was almost bright read, his stoic persona lost in is playboy one, he simply didn't know how to act. He wanted you right here even if it was the middle of the store.

he was going to have to order Clark a new bed for sure.

𐔌 . ⋮ bye ty .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

[mamaagirlbehindyouu]

Fake Dating, Real Feelings Pt.1

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 925

Summary: Your friend Tara invites you to a party, but she has an ulterior motive. (This chapter is mainly build-up to what I’ll be writing in later parts, so if you don’t like slow burns then you may want to wait for later chapters to be released to begin reading <3.)

Warning: A little bit toxic (but will get better in later chapters!!)

A/N: This chapter is kinda ass ngl but more parts will come out later w/ more fluff-heavy chapters (and potentially smut)

You sat in bed, propped up on two pillows, scrolling on your laptop. It was finals season- meaning you were now starting the 9 page term paper that was due tomorrow at 12pm. It wasn’t ideal, but you had enough time to where you were still putting off writing your paper. You weren’t writing your essay on your laptop, you were scrolling through Pinterest.

That was, of course, until you got a text from someone. Picking up your phone to see who the message was from, you instinctively kicked your feet when you saw the name of who it was from. Tara. Your friend tara. The friend you just so happened to have a massive thing for.

Shutting your laptop and properly sitting up, you unlocked your phone to read the message from her.

Tara: Hey, you up?

You stared at the message for a moment, contemplating whether or not to reply. It was already 9:30, you could just leave Tara on delivered and lie tomorrow that you had had an “early night”. After all, your paper needed to get done and you could tell from the nature of Tara’s text that she either wanted to go somewhere or do something.

Yeah right, that would take more self control than you had.

Y/n: Ofc, what’s up?

Immediately after sending the text, you were met with a “Read 9:36 PM”. You watched the gray bubbles dance on your phone screen, before they disappeared and re-appeared.

Tara: Last time I’ll ask this, I swear

Tara: Will you come to a party with me tn? I want to show up like 10:30 😊

You groaned, staring at your phone again before replying. This wasn’t an infrequent request from Tara by any means- she always needs a DD considering the fact that she seems to love getting wasted. With time, the request had become more and more of a chore as she seemed to get drunker and drunker at each party you took her to. Going to parties with Tara wasn’t fun anymore, but you knew she would just find someone else to go with her if you said no and you didn’t want that.

Y/n: I’ll be there in 30.

Throwing your blankets off and setting your laptop on the nightstand, you got up, walking over to the closet. Why did you always go along with whatever Tara wanted? Well, the answer to that was obvious, but you would rather die than admit your feelings for Tara were getting serious.

After throwing on a black miniskirt and tank with a jacket on top and some boots you got into your car and began the drive to Tara’s house. This was a drive you knew all too well, and not for good reason.

When you got to Tara’s house the front door was already open, with just the screen door shut and Tara visible and sitting on the stairs. She was wearing flare jeans and a ribbed blue henley with some white Converse. You couldn’t explain how, but Tara always seemed to make the most basic of outfits come off as breathtaking. Maybe her face card was enough of an accessory.

Spotting you from where she sat on the stairs, Tara leapt up and smiled, waving her hands at you. She opened the screen door, squealing.

“Y/n! You came! Thank you so much!”

Tara’s joy was always infectious, making you forget your original reservations about that night. A smile spread across your own face as you waved back awkwardly, unsure of what to do whenever Tara’s attention was fully on you.

“Of course I did,”

You said, unaware of how un-enthusiastic you came across. You were always excited to see Tara, but being around her often made you feel awkward, frequently making it seem like you have a lackluster temperament.

“Could you act any less excited to see me?”

Tara teased as she held open the screen door for you, allowing you to enter her home.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to-“ you began to speak, but Tara cut you off, noticing how you seemed genuinely apologetic.

“No, I was joking. It’s okay, y/n/n,” she reassured you, offering another smile.

You smiled back and nodded in agreement, not wanting to say anything else about the matter, still embarrassed about the interaction. Tara led you up to her bedroom (not that you were unfamiliar with it).

“I just need to do my makeup real quick and then we can leave,” Tara assured you, aware that it was getting closer and closer to 10:30.

“‘real quick?’” you laughed. “Since when do you do your makeup ‘real quick’?”

“Hey, last time you came over I did my makeup in ten minutes, max- That’s, like, record time for me,” Tara defended herself, raising her hands in the air, primer in hand.

“It was more like half an hour, not ten minutes,” you corrected her as she rolled her eyes. “And why’d you invite me this time? Or was it just to be your designated driver again?” you half-called Tara out, passing it off as a joke, as you took in her features, taking advantage of the fact that she was preoccupied. You loved all of Tara’s features, but her eyes were definitely at the top of the list. How could anyone not love them?

“About that..” Tara said, stopping her makeup application, making an uncomfortable face. “I kind of need you to pretend like you’re dating me.” Suddenly, you were snapped out of your thoughts.

Pt. 2??

Photo Creds: miaolliez and geminiprinc3ss on Pinterest

[princesssae]

Hi hi hi

Can i request for a fem!reader who's sick but tryna hide from the JJK characters? If not js Megumi is fine

Have a nice day! :)

IM SO SORRY!!! FINALS ARE HITTING ME SOOOO HARD RN BUT I NEEDED TO GET THIS OUTTT. Thank you for your ask, I love you!!

{Hey, Mr. Loverman!}

[Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader] [Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader] [Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader]

In Which -> You’re sick and don’t tell them!

Word Count -> 1.3k

Authors Note -> I originally was going to post this for Satoru’s birthday but I low key got in a slump and finals are literally here so I couldn’t find the time to write. I was thinking for the characters to write about but idk. I thought Sukuna’s would be kinda cannon irl but it’s really short so I guess I didn’t put much effort :( But my Megumi is such a sweet boy, Gojo raised him sooo well.

Warnings -> FLUFF!!! Sweet, hearty wholesomeness. Fem!Reader though it’s not really expressed in some parts. Relationship is already established for everyone!

Satoru Gojo

Satoru: Wanna get kikufuku?

It’s 12pm and you're still in bed. It’s hot, your pajamas are sticking to your skin, and the headache is getting worse and worse every passing minute. Even the 6 pills that you’ve downed in the past 24 hours have not helped at all.

You feel bad. Bad that you're sick and also that you’ve left Gojo on read.

Satoru: ??

Is what he sends 2 minutes later when he sees that you’ve left him on read. What was wrong with you? Did he miss an important date? Was it your birthday? No, there’s no way that would happen. Well, maybe it did happen one time but he swore to never do it again!

You don’t have enough energy to stay awake anymore, or even to think so you go back to sleep and hopefully by the time you wake up, you’ll be 100% better.

That was a lie. It’s 8pm and you're still in bed. But that’s not the reason why you woke up. What woke you up was a certain noise. Why is there shuffling in the kitchen? You hope there isn’t a robbery in your house, while you’re sick. That would suck very much.

Getting up, a huge headache suddenly takes impact from lack of water and getting up too quickly. Just go through it, toughen up a little. When you get into the kitchen, you see… Megumi? He turns around and his eyes open wide.

“What are you doing here?” You say.

“What are you doing here?“ He questions back.

“You need to get back in bed. Before he sees,” he says.

But it’s too late. Gojo is suddenly next to you with grocery bags in his hands. He looks at Megumi, and then looks at you.

His Six Eyes are VERY intimidating. His eyes sharpen and the next words that come out of his mouth are, “Get in bed.”

He never demands you to do things. He’s always cheery. But the thought process doesn’t last long until everything turns black.

The next thing you know, you're back in the comfort of your own bed. It’s morning time now, and the sun is shining. There’s also a dip on the other side of the bed. It’s Satoru. The posture that he’s in doesn’t look very comfortable or safe for his spine at all.

When you shift, he instantly wakes up. His eyes roam your body, but not in a seducing way. It’s in a way where he’s showing that he cares for you. You feel a lot better now so you tell him good morning.

He replies with, “How are you feeling?”

“Good, whatever you did helped me so much. Thank you,” you say.

He smiles and then you know what’s going to happen next. He’s going to boast.

“Well of course! I’m the best sorcerer, so why can’t I be the best at everything else? All it took was a trip to the store and I got some medicine, ice cream, soup and other things. Fed it to you while you were sleeping, and now you're brand new! All thanks to me of course, without me-“

And then you shut him up. It’s a kiss and it’s full of thankfulness. Maybe you should’ve brushed your teeth before this. It’s a little yucky.

“Yes, yes, we know. You're the strongest. But let’s go get that kikufuku, okay?”

You’ve never seen him jump so high before.

“By the way, where’s Megumi? I also want to thank him,” you question.

“He’s been here the whole time actually,” Gojo states with a sly smile.

You turn around and you're about to thank him but he cuts you off and says, “Don’t ever kiss him in front of me again.”

And that’s the end of the conversation.

Megumi Fushiguro

You didn’t show up to practice today. But today was Friday, and Friday is the last day of practice before the weekend.

“It’s technically the weekend!” You would state, excited to go out into the city and hang with him, Yuji and Nobara.

Maybe you took a day off earlier to travel? No, it’s not summer break and you have school the following Monday. A trip would be too short. You didn’t even respond to his text, and he sent that 4 hours ago.

He dreads it, but he has to ask Nobara since she’s in the same dormitory as you and Maki.

“Kugisaki,” he calls for her attention.

She turns around but makes a sour face. Maybe it’s because he just interrupted her conversation with Maki. She’s always looked up to Maki, so he understands, kinda. Not really.

“What do you want? I was in the middle of something,” Kusgisaki says with annoyance.

“Where is she today?” Megumi asks, getting straight to the point.

“Who? …Oh, your girlfriend? She’s sick. Hasn’t she told you?”

Megumi’s mind is racing now. So that’s why you weren’t able to text him back? Is that why you’re not at practice today?

He barely says thanks and rushes off of the training fields. He’s definitely going to get teased by Gojo.

Yuji calls after him, but he ignores all the shouts and heads to the dorm rooms. Before he makes it to your room, he makes a bowl of porridge and brings a bunch of water bottles.

Knocking on your door, he gives you a few seconds to respond, but you don’t so he knocks again. When you don’t answer, he thinks that you're sleeping and slowly opens the door to not wake you up.

He stands over your bed and checks your temperature. You’re burning hot. You groan in pain as a reaction and he frowns. Why didn’t you tell him that you were sick? He’s going to be in for a long night ahead.

It’s the next morning and suddenly you wake up feeling like a burden on your shoulders has been lifted. There’s medicine on your nightstand, an empty bowl and a bunch of water. There’s also a note that says:

Sorry that I had to leave, I got called in for a mission. I hope you feel better today. I got you medicine if you still need it. Please tell me the next time you’re sick.

-Megumi Fushiguro

Ryomen Sukuna

Would not care at all. Probably have to deal with it yourself. He knows you're hiding but he thinks that maybe you’ve finally realized that he’s a monster?

When you feel better, he tells you, “A weakling like you should be embarrassed,” and scoffs.

He obviously doesn’t know what being sick is but little do you know, he does actually care and was thinking that you were going to die or something.

In addition, he probably dreaded asking Yuji what was wrong with you because why would a teenager be smarter than a thousand-year-old curse like him?

Please do not copy, translate, or alter my work without my permission!

[macabr3-barbi3]

My wonderful Barbie,

My sister from another mister. How did I live life without your funny, witty, lovely presence in it? Our friendship is something I will treasure until I go to hell myself, and if I'm the first of us to go I'll get a dinky lil apartment and will wait for you to join me so we can rock eternal damnation together!

This donation is in your honor.

It's with no strings attached, just one of the ways I can try to show you how much I love you. If you wish though - You know that I would love to see you write a Vox or Alastor piece that makes the toes curl and the heart flutter.

❤️

first, please know that I have been sitting on this fic for literally MONTHS trying to get it done for a special occasion for you and never finding the fight inspiration to finish it. FINALLY I found the rest of the story and I am so happy to be sharing it in response to this beautiful ask, for a beautiful cause, from a beautiful friend ❤️

This is one of two fics that I am posting in your honor today to count notes for the final bits of the International Women's Day event and I hope everyone enjoys!

Another reminder (sorry I'm a broken record lol) that I'll personally be donating $3 for every 15 notes that the fics with this banner are receiving 💗find fic #1 (RadioStatic breeding kink fic) here and fic #2 (innocent Alastor x Reader) here! I'll stop counting around 12PM EST tomorrow so we can get our final tallys in.

Get more information about the event and future ones by following us on Tumblr @hellsgreatestevents and Bluesky!

Without any further ado, a casual not-quite-request from my darling from like July of 2024: promiscuous!reader x Alastor who thinks they have 0 attraction to him despite flirting/sleeping with literally ANYONE else

Tags: promiscuous fem reader; non sex-repulsed Alastor; possessive Alastor; fingering; handjob; 'It's just biology' logic lol

It shouldn’t bother him the way that it does.

Oh, it does.

Alastor watches you from the shadows of the hotel from the moment that you arrive- another deer, he supposes it’s mere instinct to keep an eye on you, some herd mentality that makes his eyes trail your form as you pass from one room to another, makes his ears twitch in tandem when yours flatten or stiffen in response to something. (He’s never reacted similarly to any other cervine Sinner in Hell, but it’s a comforting logic to cling to.) He sends his shadow to monitor you one time only when he catches a scent of distress coming from your bedroom, only for the blasted thing to tell him you were engaged in ‘personal matters’ that made his mind race and his normally dormant lower half twitch with interest. He throws up wards around your room to keep your scent and sounds contained, and assumes that will be the end of it.

It’s only the beginning- as soon as you acclimate to the Hotel, to Hell as a whole, the string of lovers begins. You would bring them to the hotel late in the day and send them off early the next morning; an assortment of men and women, sinners and succubi and Hellhounds, he’s even sure he may have seen an Overlord make an appearance, though no one of any real importance. Charlie and Vaggie finally catch wind of it, and politely ask that you stop bringing your parade of paramours to the doors of the Hotel; you agree to it, Alastor listening from the shadows around the corner, silently pleased that your brazen flaunting of your sexuality will be forced to come to an end.

Except… it doesn’t. You come home some nights smelling of cheap perfume and rancid cologne and what Alastor can only assume is bodily fluids before excusing yourself to your bedroom and emerging later smelling like yourself again- he can smell it on you, see the signs of your amorous hobbies, and no one else seems to notice or care, besides Angel Dust asking on occasion, “You look well taken care of, toots; who’s the lucky individual?”

Laughing when you respond, “who isn’t?” Like you were sharing your body with simply anyone.

It would be one thing if that was all he was subject to. But aside from your more promiscuous activities, you also rivaled the spider demon in terms of flirting and innuendo! At breakfast or lunch with the rest of the Hotel occupants, you would let suggestive comments fly across the table or lobby to everyone- winking at Angel as you swirled your tongue around an ice cream cone; dropping your voice to a lower register when leaning across the bar to ask Husk for a drink; ‘jokingly’ asking the Princess and Vaggie if they were looking for another participant when they mentioned going to bed one night. You weren’t as persistent or forward as the spider used to be- when Vaggie had growled in response to your question you had immediately backed off and apologized profusely- but you were very generous with your compliments and comments with everyone in the Hotel, even Niffty, going so far as to make a pass at Lucifer himself one night that he joined the group.

That, at least, had been entertaining- watching the King seem to choke on his own tongue as he flushed and tried to stammer out a response to your invitation to your bedroom, away from the ears of his daughter.

But your attention was never turned to him.

You never turned shy or demure like one would expect, but you made no pass at Alastor. No innuendos or offers like you made to the others, like you clearly made to the seemingly never ending stream of creatures and sinners that you warmed the sheets of. You chatted with him and laughed and spoke about music and literature but you never complimented him or invited him to your room as he had seen you do with countless others. And normally he wouldn’t care in the slightest- normally he would prefer it this way. When he thinks of the comments he got from the porn star that were always dismissed, the fumbled passes that Vox had made at him during their partnership that had never interested him in the slightest, the various offers and invitations that he had received over the years since arriving in Hell, he feels nothing.

You, though…

Perhaps it's the nature of his sinner form; the buck in him distraught at the idea that such a pretty, fertile doe didn’t think he was acceptable as a sexual partner when you would take on anyone else, and do so blatantly, right in front of him. But the thought of it keeps him up at night, his trousers tight and his antlers large and itchy, scratching at the bark of the trees in his bayou when he risks dropping his wards around your bedroom one night and smells that same scent from before, what he had thought was distress and could now recognize as being arousal. He refuses to lower himself as far as touching his straining erection, but the fact of you not wanting him eats him alive.

To his credit, he resists for a decent amount of time. Alastor lets the thoughts stew and thinks of you- what you’re doing with others, the ways they might be touching you, the sounds you might be making during it. He doesn’t allow himself to follow you when you step out in the evenings, keeps his shadow close to his side when you leave and come back smelling of sex.

A man can only have so much self control.

He’s down in the kitchen late in the evening when the light switches on, and your soft gasp of surprise graces his ears. When he looks over at you he wishes you had kept the lights off- you stand there in a mere slip of a nightgown, black and silky and clinging to the lines of your body like a second skin. Indecent. Alluring. Far, far too tempting, and he keeps his distance across the room, willing his antlers to stay as they are and not branch out to crowd the space at the close proximity to a potential mate.

He feels an eyebrow quirk up at that- mate was new, the word dangerous as it curls through his brain while he watches you, ears dropped low against your head and a blush tinting your face.

“Good evening, dear,” he says cordially, and resumes his earlier actions of making an evening cup of tea- like everything is normal, like the mere presence of you isn’t sending blood rushing through his body.

You seem to breathe a sigh of relief  before fully coming into the room, wrapping your arms around yourself, the motion pushing the mounds of your breasts up ever so slightly. He forces himself to look away, to stay busy as you approach and stand next to him. “Hi, Alastor. Think I could get one of those?” You gesture to the mug he holds in his hands.

“Why, of course! Allow me to-” 

When your arm drops back down he catches the scent on the air that you displace- Frustration. Arousal. There’s a second of silence before the glass he holds drops to the floor as he abandons all notion of tea in favor of reaching for you, tugging you closer so that you’re fitted against his body, tucked under his chin as he drops it down to sniff at your hair, one hand clasped around your bicep and the other coming around the back to hold you to him.

You make an alarmed squeak but don’t pull away, tilting your head up to try and look at him. The noise you make is inquisitive but not scared as he turns the pair of you, pins you between his chest and the counter and just breathes in the intoxicating cocktail of scent that you give off. He recognizes that he’s overstepping his boundaries- his mother would skin his hide if she was anywhere near Hell and knew he was behaving in such a manner- but he’s held out admirably long, and the need to know why, why, why was beating insistently at his thoughts. And after this, who knew if you would ever let him so close to you again? If you would even stay in the Hotel? The mere idea of you being anywhere else, away from his watchful eye and protection, makes his antlers ache.

“Forgive me,” he murmurs into your scalp, as eager to explain his actions away as he was to get answers from you even if he can’t bring himself to release you yet. “It’s a… biological impulse, I presume, because of our-”

“Because we’re deer?” You ask softly, the whisper of your breath tickling the skin of his chest where it pokes out of his shirt, and his erection aches where it suddenly strains against his trousers. He angles his hips back subtly, resists the urge to shove forward instead.

“Right. I’m afraid I- I was not thinking, and not myself.” He feels a flush take over his face, glad that you can’t see it where you’re held against him. “I believe if I can just- take in your scent for a moment, that should appease the instinct.” He doesn’t know what he’s saying, but you hum into his shirt and stay put, so he assumes it’s a passable excuse.

You stand there quietly with him for a moment before the traitorous words bubble out of his throat against his will, the curiosity overriding his logic. “Why do you show no interest in me like you do the others?”

You stiffen in his hold- and even at this sign of alarm he can’t bring himself to release you. “I don’t- I’m not sure what you mean, Alastor,” you stammer, but he can smell it on you, the nerves, the anxiety in the phrase.

“It’s not my intention to scare you- nor corner you like this,” he adds, nodding down at his arms that cage you against the counter. “Merely a curiosity, and unfortunate coincidence. You offer your compliments freely, you make advances, you have an endless stream of lovers, and yet you have never directed such attention my way. Even Niffty has been at the receiving end of your flirting, albeit in a joking manner.” You’re silent in his arms, muscles tense and face turned away from him, and he keeps his hands where they are instead of doing something stupid like brushing his fingers against your cheek and turning you to face him. “Have I offended you in some manner? Do you simply not find me to be appealing?”

“No!” Your eyes are wide when you meet his again, a sweet blush to your face as you deny. “No, I mean, you’re fine, you haven’t done anything wrong- and you’re hot, so that’s not- fuck. Fuck. It’s really nothing, Alastor-”

And there it was again- that scent that you carried with you, pheromones that broadcasted to him as clearly as a radio that you were aroused, a tinge of embarrassment tinting it now instead of the frustration from earlier and it’s simply not enough. He drops his face to your shoulder, ignoring your soft squeak of alarm in favor of inhaling deeply at the curve of your neck where it’s the strongest that he can reach. It’s heady and thick, almost feeling like it’s coating his airways as it travels through his body, cock leaking inside his trousers now. “Doesn’t smell like nothing,” he murmurs absently, and your hands come up from where they’ve been gripping the counter to fist into his shirt. An explanation, he tells himself as he meets your eyes again, dilated and wide. That’s all I need. That will sate this feeling. That will return me to normal. That will-

He’s taken off guard by your dragging him down to meet your lips, more a clash of teeth than anything else before you get the angle right, surprising him with your tongue against his teeth as you try to lick into his mouth. His noise of surprise is muffled into the kiss, and it gives you the opportunity you need to get your tongue in his mouth, stroke with the slick muscle along his own. The action makes his hips jolt forward, erection finally pressed against the warmth of your body for a blissful moment before he remembers himself and angles away again.

He tries to, anyway. Your hands leave his shirt to tug at his belt loops, bringing his hips back into alignment with yours and causing a moan to vibrate from your mouth and into his as you clumsily try to grind into him.

Alastor releases you- only for a moment, only to reposition his hands so he can hold you even closer, shift you up onto the counter to press harder against you so he can finally satisfy the instinctive craving that had been plaguing him for months- and before he can do anything further you tear away with a gasp, letting go of his hips to push at his chest and try to put distance between the two of you.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, and were it not for the note of panic that now taints your delicious scent he would tease you for the calling of a being so far removed from Hell when he manages to settle his hands on your body again. “Fuck, I didn’t mean- I’m so sorry, Alastor, I wasn’t thinking,” and through your stammering your face is darkening, ears laid flat against your head.

One can only guess what sort of foolish things you’re telling yourself- that he didn’t want this, that you shouldn’t have kissed him, that this would surely result in some kind of disaster. What he was more focused on was the huff of your breath against his chest, the thrum of your heartbeat under his fingertips, the twitch of your ears. The heat of your body pressed against his as you had attempted to grind down, such an obvious display of your attraction to him that he knows he needs to cease your rampant overthinking before you do something terrible, like flee from him.

“My dear,” he says softly, and your eyes dart up, wide, trembling like your fingers against his chest. Much more like a frightened bird than the doe you were. “If you explain your hesitation, we can sort out any confusion that might linger between us, and get back to the more important matters at hand.” He brings a hand up from your hip to trace along the curve of your jaw, and the exhale that escapes you is hot against his wrist when he pulls you back against him. “Tell me your concerns.”

“You don’t actually want this,” you stutter out, your tongue darting out to wet your dry lips, and it’s all he can do not to reclaim your mouth. “It’s- you’re only reacting like this because we’re both deer, you wouldn’t normally-”

“Do you think,” he interrupts with a roll of his hips into you, “that you are the first deer demon I’ve ever come across in all my years in Hell?”

Your eyes widen. “You- but you just said-”

“Yes, in an effort to spare myself the embarrassment of clinging to a young lady that I thought had no interest in me.” He places his hands on your waist and lifts you with little effort to rest on the edge of the counter so he can step fully between your legs. “It seems that may not be the case.”

You whimper, low and broken as his thumb brushes the skin of your thighs. “It’s not,” you confess. “I’ve… it wasn’t the whole time. I mean, I like sex with other people but lately its been- killing me, wanting you. I didn’t think you would want anything.”

“You thought wrong.” He slides his hands under your nightgown, the feeling of your bare skin under his hands igniting the heat within him anew. “I want everything from you.” He clasps you to his body and grinds, his erection dragging deliciously against the soaked warmth between your legs. “You were touching yourself just moments before you entered the kitchen, weren’t you? You couldn’t reach satisfaction; that’s why you smell of frustration, or arousal. Your scent has been driving me mad, these… lovers you’ve been with have been intolerable.”

He can feel the swollen nub of your clit through your panties, wet with slick from your time spent pleasuring yourself and unable to find release. He can almost feel the folds of you molding to his shape, parting with ease to invite him in if he so wished. 

He wouldn’t take you here. Alastor had craved you for too long to be satisfied with a fumbling romp in the kitchen in the dead of night- he was a gentleman, and would take you to bed and whisper the words of praise that you were so deserving of as he entered you for the first time. He would ensure that the evening was beautiful and worthy of how long you both had waited, unknowing of how easy it all could have been.

For now, though, you were both vibrating with the tension of months of pent up frustration, and he wouldn’t make you wait any longer, his own release be damned. He would show you that none of the others you had bedded were any sort of viable substitution for him.

He asks, “may I?” As he teases his fingers along the waist of your panties, and your breathy agreement is music to his ears as he simply vanishes them away and slips his fingers into your core. You’re wet for him, the smell of your arousal overwhelming now that you’re bare before him, open for his touch, and while he has little experience in this area he’s able to read the tremble of your body in his arms well enough, the whimpers and gasps that you let out into his ears. He searches, fingers gentle in their exploration as he aches in his slacks, grinding against the counter with what little leverage he has and watching your face for any sign of discomfort. He finds the answer to his questioning touch in a pliable spot of flesh that he crooks his fingers against, and your body trembles in his arms. He hardly needs your frantic whisper of “yes, there, please,” but the feedback is encouraging anyway as he presses hard, withdrawing and adding another finger at the encouraging thrust of your hips.

He wishes he could taste you, knows that you would be just as sweet on his tongue as you felt clenched around his digits. You’re both too wound for that now, as he would want to take his time in savoring you, and so he settles for letting you come undone around his fingers. He finds a promising angle by pushing up on the tips of his hooves, and that gives him the angle he needs to rut into your thigh, hot as the rest of your body and deliciously firm against his cock. Your cunt weeps with arousal, and he swipes his thumb through it for an effortless glide against your clit as he rocks his fingers in a steady rhythm.

“Please,” you whisper, and there’s a hand shoved against his belt buckle, clawing at the clasp in the little space that exists between your bodies. “I want to touch you- please, can I?” Your eyes are wet with pleasure, every inch of your visible skin flushed and your request sweet as honey in the air as you wait for his approval. He nods, and his head drops to your shoulder with a defeated groan at the first touch of your hands to his bare erection.

Your grip is firm, hot- experienced, he thinks with a distant throb of jealousy knowing how many others you had been with to have gained such knowledge. How many others had held you against a counter or wall like this with some part of their body inside of you, your delicate hand touching them in return? What was the exact number of Sinners he would have to hunt down that became familiar with the flavor of your moans before he had been given the chance to sample you?

“Fuck, Alastor,” you cry out, and he grins sharp and dangerous into the crook of your neck at the realization that none of your previous lovers mattered now- all that existed to you in this moment was him, his fingers buried in the tight clench of your body, his cock leaking in your hand, his name on your soft lips. You were pliant and warm and perfect, and he would ensure that you never needed anyone else to satisfy you for the rest of your afterlife.

His orgasm catches him nearly by surprise, hips jerking as he spills hard and messy over your fingers. His voice catches on a desperate moan of your name, and somehow this- staticky and rough and broken- is what takes you over the edge as well, your inner walls fluttering hard around his fingers and even more slick gushing from you to coat him in the evidence of your satisfaction.

You take a moment to simply breathe, bringing a hand up to rest on his shoulder before you start laughing.

Alastor is almost offended, but when he pulls back from your shoulder your smile is fond and pleased. “To think we could have been doing this all along,” you tease, and run your thumb through the mess of his orgasm and lightly against his tip before withdrawing from his pants. You roll your hips against his fingers as he pulls them from you, and the small action is enough to have his spent cock twitching once again.

“Not all along,” he says, bringing his fingers up to inspect, delighting in your renewed blush when he pops one into his mouth for a taste and is rewarded with it being every bit as delicious as he had hoped. “I’m sure with your expertise we would have graduated to more adventurous endeavors by now.”

“My expertise?” You feign offense, your tone exaggerated and your smile genuine as you look up at him. “Why, Alastor, are you implying I’m some sort of tart?”

His eyes are dark as he growls, “not anymore, you aren’t,” and scoops you into his arms to retreat to his bedroom with the ghost of your laughter echoing in the kitchen when you’re gone.