#they would be very nice to squish

[zackbuildit]

A slime girl's cellulite feels like orbeez I think. The same applies to slime boys, or slime enbies.

[ryllen]

Look what came through the mail today! The letters & ( •̀ω•́ )σ 3 little gremlins from letterstoear.

Just wanna say i adore the flower stickers on the letters too much, they are that much worth mentioning.

[vodid]

see i'm not calling it terrible by any means, but i am seriously going to need a palette cleanser in the form of cartoon atla after watching netflix atla. visuals are pretty and casting is excellent tho

[the-starlight-lullaby]

Super self-indulgent Caregiver Greaseball stimboard bc he is on my mind tonite and I like him lots :> I like to think he's the kind of dad who lets you sit with him and color or do whatever you'd like while he's doing his thing, he's not used to being super soft and easygoing, especially with little kids, but he tries his best because his kiddos would be his whole world <3

|🏅|☀️|🏅| |🏅|☀️|🏅| |🏅|☀️|🏅|

(I lost the links to the top two left and right gifs unfortunately)

[1980ssunflower]

In a Min loving mood tonight

[maretriarch]

while im obviously against it, buccal fat removal would not be as widely hated as it is if it didnt make women look older, one of the worst things a woman can be when it comes to beauty standards

[sharkieboi]

okay thing is while i love certain other characters and there’s that stupid post going around complaining about “1 million transmascs”, if I finally decide to get off my ass and do a cosplay I’d probably go for Mithrun and it’s honestly mostly cause we have the same right-side droopy eye

[ickadori]

“You think your plushies get jealous watching me fuck you?”

“Satoru, please, it’s 3 o’clock in the morning.”

“I’m just thinkin’ about their feelings, baby.”

“They’re little stuffed animals, ‘Toru, they don’t have feelings.” You blink your eyes open as you squint at him in the darkness of your room, just barely making out the silhouette and one of your squishes.

“Don’t listen to them, Carmelita, they didn’t mean it.” He loudly whispers to the squish squeezed in his arms, and you quickly sit up as you blindly reach out for him.

“Give me her! Why is she in the bed? I put her on the shelf earlier!”

“Because I wanted to hold my daughter, that’s why! Don’t be stingy!”

“You’re gonna get her dirty, Satoru!” You fight to pull her from his arms, and he whines and flips over, trapping her between his chest and your mattress while you push at his back.

“Then I’ll give her a nice bubble bath.”

“You can’t just wash her, you’ll ruin her fabric and softness. It’s a very gentle, precise process that I absolutely do not trust you with, so give me her.”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“No~”

“Satoru!”

“If you two don’t shut up, I’m going to release every single disgusting curse I’ve swallowed up to this point and let them level this entire block.”

“Suguru,” you lean over the side of the bed, making out yet another dark figure laid on the floor. “As long as the curse takes him out first then I would be okay with that.”

“Hah? You’d just let him kill your boyfriend?”

“Without a doubt, yes.”

[tojjist]

NANAMI is 100% a spanker.

He loves your ass. He could just stare at you for hours on end, no matter what you’re wearing at the time. Be it a pencil skirt, yoga pants, sport shorts or a dress. He could just stand there and watch you move, glutes moving up and down, hips swaying. It makes him swoon.

And while he could stand and stare, he’d much rather feel it up against his palm. He’d slap your buttocks once he walks past you, soft and teasing. Depending on your response the situation elevates. 

More times than not you find yourself sprawled out on his lap, his hands colliding with the skin multiple times over until he can feel it get warmer. His ears are immune to your cries,gasping at the force that comes with the loud clapping. Sometimes he’d stop to tease your clit gently, fingertips rubbing the bundle of nerves to hear a soft moan from you or have you tighten your shaking thighs over his palm. But it’s not too long before his hand is swinging in the air and against your reddened ass.

At some other occasions, he finds himself subconsciously feeling your ass in the morning. His large hands explore the soft flesh, squishing it tightly in his palm and giving it light slaps every so often.

GOJO, on the other hand, is a hair puller.

Honestly, there is no specific reason that he likes to pull your hair so much. Mostly he just likes the feeling of your hair filling into his fist, no matter the length of it, locks running between his fingers. It's an oddly satisfying to him .

He’s very random with it, too. Satoru would approach you while doing the dishes, one second his arms are wrapped lovingly around your waist, and the next his hand fists as much as it can of your hair and tugs at it “A-a- ah- Satoru– let go, seriously,” You’d grumble, face scrunched at the suddenness of it. “Mm, Gotta ask nicely, baby,” his hand continues to grab your hair tightly. Judging by the amused smirk on his face, he’s just messing around. Must get a kick out of it.

It’s another reason he loves seeing you on your knees before him. Your mouth consumes so much of his length, hands pumping whatever your mouth couldn’t fit in. All Satoru has to do is sit back, feel good, and pull at your hair. It’s easy control. And Satoru loves this control, as if steering your head however he likes. Not that your skilled mouth needs direction. 

[starkidlabs]

Really can’t wait to leave my uni accommodation. The amount of squished bugs that there are on the wall just makes me sad and not want to be around the person that squished them.

[helluvapoison]

Could I get Adam, Lute and Lucifer and how they 'court' the reader? Like how birds with court each other, little gifts, wing 'dances', nesting, etc...

Also, could I be your 🐌 anon? <3<3<3

Birds of a Feather

Adam, Lute and Lucifer courting you

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Peacocking has nothing on The First Man

• His personality is amped up to the highest level when he sees you walk in a room

• (Overcompensation for how fucking nervous you make him)

• Adam gets cocky when he knows he has your attention

• Tossing grapes high in the air and catching them in his mouth, bragging louder than usual about something or the other

• Heaven forbid you laugh at any of his antics, (His smirk is dangerous, “Oh you like that?”) he’ll start singling you out in front of everyone, calling your name before he acts up

• Performances include inviting you to watch his band play and miraculously getting more energy

• Casually tosses guitar picks in your direction— and when he finds out you kept one!? He’s over the moon

• He won’t go out of his way to get you food but he’ll order you something if he goes somewhere

• Adam hates nesting. He doesn’t like being stressed in general and nesting is really fucking stressful!

• The very fact seeing you pricks the urge in him to nest drives him insane

• (AKA, he likes you a lot more than he thought he did!)

• Seeing you in his space does something he doesn’t particularly hate though

• “It’s whatever if you don’t like it.” Adam shrugs

• “No, I think it looks nice! Very you. Tell me about these pictures?”

• He’s fucking done for

˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Like they have a mind of their own, her wings stretch out and audibly fluff up when she makes eye contact with you

• Mortifying is an understatement

• She picks out trinkets to give to you at first, something small that could be waved off as insignificant

• Later, when Lute realizes her affections are returned, she brings useful offerings or something you offhandedly mentioned needing

• She wishes she could tell you about the exterminations solely to brag

• See how fierce she is, how skilled she is, how good of a protector she could be for you

• Lute will ask you to arm wrestle as a compromise. She gets to hold you hand and show off her strength!

• Nesting was fine, it was the judgment part that drove her up a wall

• Watching your eyes roam over her apartment, deciding whether or not it was good enough for you? Gah!

• “What, uh—“ Lute clears her throat, she’ll hate herself for even asking later, “What do you think?”

• You smile knowingly, something else that makes her absolutely mad, “It’s perfect.”

• Lute beams with pride like she’s won a great victory

˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Never before has he felt the need to actually flaunt.. anything?

• With you it hits him like a fucking train and it’s even harder to supress it

• He’s Lucifer! That’s supposed to be self explanatory, that’s supposed to be enough

• Suddenly he’s checking every mirror on his way to you, making sure he looks better than he feels

• He tries to find other ways to steal your attention or show that he would be a worthy partner

• …But showing off his wings couldn’t hurt, right? He has six after all. If you needed to get to the other side of town he’d be more than happy to fly you over!

• Nothings too good for you! If Lucifer thinks you’ll want or like something, he’s buying it!

• Did you notice he can make things too? He’ll make you something— or fix something for you!

• Quick, break that so he can show you he can fix it!

• Lucifer pulls all the stops trying to prove himself, nesting is no exception… he’s just not great at it

• He starts! However a little after beginning he realizes just how big his mansion is and gets overwhelmed so he closes all the doors and focuses his energy on the only room that matters; his

• “I mainly stay in here,” Lucifer explains while squishing a duck in his fist, watching you explore his room, “I cleaned it up for you! N-Not for you, not for that— I mean not that I’m opposed! I just meant so that you could, uh, see?”

• “I see why you like it, I’d never wanna leave.”

• You’re gonna kill him saying shit like that

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ 🐌 CAN I GIVE YOU A KITH BECAUSE THIS WAS SO FUN!!!!!

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

(18+) fem!reader

bucky barnes is the kind of guy to fuck up into you during cowgirl, not because he's impatient, but because he simply wants to feel more of you.

just him lying back down on the mattress, you straddling his crotch, cock snuggly wedged into you - his hands digging into the plush of your thighs. he'd have to restrain himself, the squish of your skin pooling around his fingers being the main distraction. he'd look up at you as you slowly wind over him, brows knitted, eyes closed, lips bitten, tits swaying - the lewdest of images as you gently bounce. 

your hands placed firmly on his stomach isn't enough. he wants to feel you closer - he wants your chest sandwiched against his, wants his lips on yours. his cock inside of you, not enough to satiate the need.

he'd trail his hands up you higher, gliding up your tummy, over your tits, right up to your throat. he wouldn't squeeze, no. just lightly pulling you down to him, silently guiding you to hover over him. your weight anchored on your hands either side of him.

bucky would stabilise you, keeping you balanced - one hand on the curve of your hip, the other along your jaw, lips hungrily working over yours. he'd swallow your gentle moans, your soft, sweet whines vibrating against his tongue.

he'd bend at the knee and testingly nudge up into you, cock bumping into your pussy so nicely. the new angle ripping the most bliss-filled cry from the pits of your stomach. he'd smile against your lips, doing it again. and again. just to hear that same sultry noise from you. 

he would part from your lips, trailing kisses along your collarbone until he reaches your tits, leaving a line of soft, wet suckles behind. he'd wrap his lips around your perk nipples, tongue leisurely flicking over the bundle of sensitive nerves. dick stroking up into you unrushed.

his hands would leave the placement around your mid back, instead moving downwards - one metal, one fleshed hand slowly dragging over your skin. bucky's hands would rest on the dips of your waist, guiding you over his cock with very little manoeuvring, gently pushing your hips down onto him. the slow roll of his hips meeting you in the middle.

lips back on yours, muffling loving words into your skin. telling you that you're his sweet, special girl.

[wyvernest]

hands on you

pairing: miguel o'hara xf!reader

warnings: perv!miguel, miguel being extra handsy, smut, groping (consensual), established relationship, teasing, pda, public teasing, alcoholic beverages?

summary: miguel can't take his hands off of you in the club

Miguel knew you liked him being overly affectionate in public, just to show everyone how deeply in love with him you are. So deeply, that you couldn't gather one single fuck to give about what others thought.

Sure, there were lines neither of you would ever cross. But there was something so delicious about taking risks that had you more intoxicated than 5 mojitos.

This is why you now find yourself rummaging through your closet, looking for something downright obscene. Something so inviting that would make it hard for Miguel to keep his hands to himself for the whole night.

The two of you had arranged to go clubbing for the first time in what felt like a century. Since both of you preferred 1 on 1 alone time, it was a rarity that one would voice the desire to break out of the usual, intimate, comforting routine.

But this time, you want something filthy. Not soft or private. Something that would bring him to the very brink of despair for being so close, yet so far from it.

"¿Estas lista?" (Are you ready?) You hear the bathroom door open as Miguel steps out into the doorway, a towel around his hips and another in his hands as he aggressively attempts to partially dry his dripping wet hair.

You almost start drooling looking at him in the closet door mirror. This is gonna be fun.

"I'm still thinking." You replied, absentmindedly. Oh how you wish you could just ditch the plans, forget about going out and spend the rest of the evening on his dick. To just give him a familiar shove and watch him lay down on the soft bed, hands roaming your body as you climbed on top of him-

No. You have to stick with the plan. Just for once.

As he blow-dries his hair, you snatch the top and skirt you picked and run downstairs, not wanting him to see you before you get to your destination.

But how you wish you could stay in the bedroom and watch his back muscles flex as he pulls that black shirt over his head, how he looks in the mirror as he fixes his hair. His mere presence made you wet.

You snap out of your reverie, swiftly changing and covering yourself with a nice beige coat. Just as you were done with the last touches in the hallway mirror, Miguel stepped down the stairs.

The black shirt slightly stretches over his muscles, giving you a clear view of his pecs and the outlines of his hard abs. He's sporting beige pants, and you wonder just for a second how obvious a boner would be underneath the thin, creamy material.

The drive to the club is flooded with knowing looks and flirty comments, which again make it hard for you not to abandon ship and fuck him in the driver's seat, pulled over on a nice, dark alley.

"I know what you're doing."

"What?" You inquire, faking innocent shock.

He gestures towards your coat, his eyes darting from yours to the clothing item and back to the road.

"I just want to surprise you." You defend yourself, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, brushing a few hair strands behind his ear. You lean into him, placing a tender kiss on his cheek.

You arrive at the club, discarding the coat to leave it in the car. He almost forgets to lock the doors the moment he sees you. Plushy breasts pushed together and nearly spilling out of a skin tight top, ass peeking out from underneath a skirt too short.

"Carajo." (Fuck.) He rasps, before sprinting over to you, wanting to shield you from wandering eyes. Any doubts that it might've been too much are washed away the second you're hit with the realisation that Miguel's hands are going to be on you for the whole night. Either protectively or for other reasons, you couldn't bring yourself to care that much.

As you walk in, you remain glued to him. body to body. Even as you dance, you move against him, soft tits squished on his chest, hands wandering over his shoulders and his neck.

His own hands are anchored on your waist, his fingers digging into your delicate skin.

Glazed over eyes, pretty mouth agape, lips painted in gloss; they're too much for him. He leans into your touch, kissing you messily. It's all tongue and hot puffs of heaved breaths, desperate and painfully needy.

Seizing the opportunity, you inhaled softly and slowly, feeling the scent of him, cologne mixed with his distinctive musk that has your brain melting into nothing but the thought of irrevocably being his.

Suddenly, a straying hand travels down your body, from the dip of your waist and over your hip, settling on the tender flesh of your ass, his fingertips skin to skin on you, thanks to the shortness of the flimsy skirt.

He pulls you against him, trapping you with the other hand splayed out on your back. You feel your heart rate pick up speed.

His one-day stubble scratches your silky cheeks, almost an invasion. Almost disrespectful to the extensive skin care routine you have and religiously stick to, but that's what you like most about it. No matter how much time you spend on yourself, he always ruins you. Your makeup, your clothes, covering your freshly-carefully-lotioned body in hickies and marks. Simply because you're his.

The palm on your ass squeezes and kneads over the feverish skin, the skirt hiking up in the process as he exposes your thin, lace thongs.

You moan in faux protest, looking up at him and breaking away from the suffocating kiss.

"¿Que pasó, muñeca?" (What happened, doll?). He continues to squeeze, the feeling of his big, rough hand rubbing the plumpness of your ass starts to pool raw need between your legs.

"You don't like me touching you like this?" He speaks into your ear, eyes half lidded and predatory. "Isn't that what you dressed up like this for, hm?"

The bastard.

You take one fraction of a second to look around, taking note that nobody was watching, apart from a few guys who either enjoy the show or are patiently waiting for Miguel to leave you alone for just a minute.

Not gonna happen.

"Dime." (Tell me.) He steals your attention, his embrace almost lifting you off the ground just to hold you whole against him.

You mouth 'Yes', knowing you can't trust your shaky voice to speak louder for him to hear over the music.

The dancing area is getting increasingly crowded as the night seeps deeper into the city, so you two move towards the bar. He sits on one of the chairs, patting his leg for you. You place yourself on his thigh as he manspreads to give you more space, curling a strong arm around your waist.

You feel the fabric of his beige pants come into contact with your panties, your skirt too short to cover your ass, let alone allow you to sit without having it slide up. You close your legs tightly, seeking a bit more privacy from the public eye.

Trying not to slip from your seat, you attempt to brace yourself on your palms; one hand on his knee, pushing your back into him, and one on-

Fuck.

Your other palm accidentally lands on his crotch, your fingers grazing his half hard cock. Before you can take your hand away and hide your flushed face, he grabs your wrist and keeps it there.

The bartender is making cocktails at the opposite end of the counter, so no one can see what's actually going on. He starts guiding your hand to rub him up and down, a content sigh leaving him. You could swear your own face is very telling by now.

You cup him through the material, feeling the familiar girth of his cock fatten at your attention. He's getting warmer, and so are you.

Before he can start drifting into pleasure, the bartender runs to him, waiting for the order. Miguel asks for a beer, frustrated at the loss of contact, your hands now on the marble counter.

More people gather around the bar, and as his request gets temporarily forgotten amidst the others, he relishes in the re-obtained semi privacy.

"¿Estás bien, muñequita?" He asks, a hint of concern plastered on his face at the sight of your flushed face.

"Don't worry. I'll tell you if I'm uncomfortable." You reassure, feeling bolder.

He smirks, looking around, checking. He feels like a horny teen-ager who has no other choice but to try to explore and test the waters in public. But in reality, he knew exactly what he was doing.

He turns to you, placing a kiss dangerously close to the top of your right breast, teasing. Before you can look down through your hazy vision, he glides a warm palm between your legs, past your skirt, two fingers fitting in the valley of your soft pussy.

You restrain yourself from gasping, instead seeking to hide your face in the crook of his neck. He moves his hand over the mound, flicking your clit through your panties. He can undoubtedly feel how wet you are as he so obscenely cups your cunt. You feel the heat of his palm on you, so comforting in such a filthy way; like that's where it belongs.

Looking down, you're met with the sight of his veined burly arm, muscles flexing as he plays with you, his wrist barely visible underneath your skirt. You clench around nothing, and his motions quicken with expert ease, a clear sign he felt you.

You're left infuriatingly needy for more when he retracts his hand as if nothing happened, the bartender bringing him his beer. You give him a pissed look, and he smiles as he brings the bottle to his mouth.

Smiling, like, what's wrong?

You move to threateningly leave from your seat on his lap, but he follows as expected. He can't lose sight of you.

Walking just a bit further into the crowd, you take his hand behind you. Swaying your hips and undulating your body to the music, you feel the beat through your veins, in your chest, in your head. He comes up behind you, his rhythm in sync with your movements.

Brushing your hair out of the way from behind, he slowly bends down to lick and kiss at the sensitive skin on the side of your neck, raising goosebumps over your skin. You don't know how much longer you'll stay here, seeing how clingy and needy Miguel has gotten.

You feel your pulse throbbing in your neck and through your lust-hazed mind at the stimulation.

"Feel how fast my heart's beating." You take his hand, placing it where your heart would be. He brings the beer bottle to his mouth, drinking nonchalantly as his palm instantly dips into your cleavage, cupping your left breast. You stiffen, once again surprised.

"Yeah." He confirms, as if he didn't just start groping you to feel your heartbeat. "Pretty fast."

He is well aware of how worked up you get simply because of this attitude. He leaves the bottle on a nearby glass table, now both his hands on your boobs, nearly taking them out of your top to play with them. He looks wrecked, absolutely drunk on need.

One of his arms soon curls around your waist and back, pulling you close into him, the other hand still fondling your chest. You arch your back, pushing yourself impossibly closer into his touch, seeking the warmth of his palm.

Wanting to drive him completely mad, you turn around, your back to him, and start grinding your plushy ass over his groin. He grips your hips, guiding you, not hesitating to let his hands wonder back to your tits, squeezing them under the elastic material of your shirt while you're rubbing yourself on his painful erection.

You can now see people staring, especially at the way he touches you. Arching backwards, you curl your arms around his neck, your chest pushed forward and so much more accessible. His palms are now hot on your soft breasts, craving more. Fondling with fervent need.

The music and the people are drowned out, muffled into the very back of your headspace. He leans down, his mouth to your ear.

"Let's get out of here."

divider by @cafekitsune

a/n: tried to make it as non problematic and as filthy as possible at the same time goddamn

[jwnstars]

성훈 — cold bf! sunghoon who you wrapped a little cute bow around his biceps because of a tiktok trend. pairings whipped!sunghoon x hyper!reader, very very extremely fluff :p

SCROLLING THROUGH TIKTOK, the girl laid on the soft bed instantly making a starfish position while her phone just inches away from her face. a sad frowning face smacked onto her face when her boyfriend, sunghoon, had to stop paying her attention and focused on his work that was supposedly more important than her. . . for just a minute.

the girl scrolled and scrolled, trying to make time go past faster so she could finally cling onto her busy boyfriend again.

“cuz i love to love to love you…”

she stumbled across a video of a girl wrapping around a ribbon onto her boyfriends bicep, a little cute pink bow holding onto dear life trying to hang on his bulging muscles, it seemed very tight on his muscles like it was about to burst at any moment.

she gasped in the sight of how he did the smallest move, the ribbon SNAPPED. ripped out of his biceps. no effort whatsoever, it seemed like the ribbon just gave out.

then she had an idea ! she turned to hoon, with a cheeky smirk and a mischievous face. before turning back to her pocket,

she checked her pockets for ribbons, being a heavy ribbon fan girl, she always had spare ribbons. she checked the deepest depths of her pockets until her hands reached a long pink ribbon, as she squealed in excitement. sunghoon had heard her and turned around slowly,

seeing that his girlfriend was occupied and busy he smiled at how cute she was by the fact she was giggling all by herself.

“hoonie!” she beamed with a big smile, sunghoon fully turning to her, focusing on her with laser-focus. his attention not leaving her, “give me your arm!” sunghoon raised a brow at the specific request his girlfriend asked, but he didn’t mind. he handed his arm to her in curiosity, waiting for what she would do.

she had retrieved the pink ribbon from her pocket and then she wrapped it around his muscle, she gasped in wow in how she never noticed how much sunghoon had probably worked out. sunghoon watched her attentively while chuckling softly, observing her actions.

she had successfully tied the ribbon onto his biceps, “so cute, babe” her boyfriend wow’ed at how ‘cute’ it was. (def not just looking at his gf and not the ribbon. . .) “ackkkk!! it’s so attractive…. I’m sorry !!!” she squealed at the sight of her boyfriends biceps this time,

his red sleeveless shirt definitely didn’t help how much his muscles were exposed. she was a blushing mess.

“since when did you get so buff…” his gf freely squished on his muscles, still in shock on how his gains were so defined. “I guess I go to the gym too much.” he giggled warmly, his eyes still not leaving the girl.

“I only gained all of these muscles to impress you, babe.” he looked at her with all seriousness, not a single joke or sarcasm in his tone. “waaaah, thank you love ~~~ ” she put her hand onto her face, a little bit stunned.

“now… may I ask why the ribbons, babe?” she had finally remembered the whole purpose of what she was doing, so she could do the trend.

but it all left her mind because she finally got the attention she wanted, “OHHH RIGHT. love it’s a tiktok trend !!!!” she adjusted the ribbon while he nodded, still laughing a bit. “do you wanna film it?—” she was soon cut off by the chatterbox, hoon.

“no… baby… I’m kind of in the mood to just hug youuuu yk? just cuddle to be honest…” sunghoon mildly whined and his gf scoffed at how cute he was but at the same time how he suddenly wanted attention. “okkkk fine come over here.”

she opened her arms welcoming sunghoon into her soft embrace, he soon engulfed into her warmth and felt like he never wanted to let go. “you smell nice, you look so beautiful.” sunghoon muttered softly, feeling sleepy while he was in her arms.

“I don’t know how you could be so pretty and yet be so mine…” she blushed, her cheeks being rosey and pink when she heard his voice in her ear.

her number one question… how did they get from ignoring each other to obsessing over biceps to getting endless cuddles. their mood swings were a different breed.

“thank you for making my biceps just as pretty as you.”

@jwnstars . . .

first thing I’ve wrote on here.. I don’t know how to work tumblr. 🥶🥶🥶 sorri this is short.. just wanted to make something in the meantime 🤧

[senseichaos]

hi hi! That one-shot you did with Alastor broadcasting his and reader's..."love-making" was rather delicious but I can't help but think of you know..aftercare. It was quite rough and I'd love to see Alastor being sweet and sorta guilty for going so roughly cause we both know...reader was bleeding after😭😭😭

Yess I love writing aftercare and when I saw this I was immediately wanting to write it ! Thank you

"Pathetic" But still a princess,

Summary: Alastor roughed you up quite badly in your last.. fornication session.. so as to make it a more happy evening he gives you some very much needed aftercare! (Part 2 to "Pathetic")

Genre: Fluff, romance, slight sexual undertones

Warnings: Swearing, blood, Alastor is kinda bipolar considering how much more soft he acts in this compared to the last part, love confessions, lmk if I missed any

NOT EDITED NOR PROOFREAD (YET)

______

Alastor carries you the entire way to his room, not wanting to rough up your brain by teleporting to his room. And oddly he sort of enjoyed the intimacy of it all. It's weird, Alastor is never really one to enjoy intimacy, but this odd time he feels nice giving you this comfort.

As he enters his room, he makes sure to lock the door behind him so no one comes in whilst he bathes you, and with a smile to you walks to his suite. The suite isn't the largest but it's big enough that when he places you on the side of the bath he can walk around you with ease.

"Alastor I think I'm bleeding," You say, looking at some scratches on your thigh as Alastor takes off his overcoat and folds it neatly. He gives you a soft look, placing his coat to the side.

"Well of course you are darling! My fawn had to learn her lesson somehow, hm?" Alastor says with a small chuckle, squatting down (his knees clicking as he does so) to turn on the water of the bath. You roll your eyes, fiddling with the fabric of your shirt as you contemplate taking it off.

"Take off your shirt, dear, it's nothing I haven't seen before," Alastor commands with a rather teasing tone, arranging the correct soap to put inside of your bath. You nod, pulling off your shirt and bra, discarding them onto the floor next to the bath. You almost cover yourself, but understand if you did Alastor would probably tell you off.

After the bath fills a bit Alastor taps the side of the bath, capturing your attention.

"You can get in now, fawn. It should be warm enough," He says, and you give him a small nod. Rather awkwardly with your pained thighs you manage to crawl yourself into the bath, Alastor does end up helping you a bit when you almost faceplant into the water, shifting you so you sit with a weirdly empathetic look for him.

"Now let's not fall on our face, shall we. I'd rather not have you more injured than you are already,"

You giggle, leaning up and squishing his cheek playfully.

"Awe you care about me, that's new," you say, and he takes your hand off of his face with a stern look.

"I wouldn't call it 'new', you just haven't seen it yet," He says, and you give him a confused look as he starts pouring some bubble soap into the bath.

"What haven't I seen?"

He laughs, shaking his head as he begins mixing in the soap with his hand.

"Me caring about you, silly doe," He chuckles, ruffling your hair with his wet hand. This causes you to shake the water off and give him an annoyed look.

"Give me an example,"

He looks up for a moment, thinking of an instance where he's shown care for you.

"Well, how about earlier today when I told you not to drink the tea because it was hot?" He asks, turning the water pressure on the hot water slightly higher. You roll your eyes, pulling your aching knees to your chest as the water around you rises.

"Oh so what, the bare minimum.. how caring of you Alastor,"

"Now don't get pissy with me, dear. I was only giving you an example of my caring for you," He chuckles, giving your nose a soft boop as he continues mixing the water. You notice his sleeve is dangerously close to the water, so you push his hand from the water slowly.

"Careful, you're gonna get your sleeves wet," You say, and Alastor smiles slightly wider.

"Don't worry about it, my dear. It's nothing I can't handle," He says, his green magic surrounding his sleeves and rolling them up to just above his elbows. "You shouldn't have to worry about something so small as my sleeves,"

Your eyes go glossy with tears at the odd affection in his voice. It's something you've never heard from him before. Sure there's the empty compliments, the empty pecks, but this is different. It's as if he loves you.

"Do you really care about me, Alastor?"

Alastor furrows his brows, turning off the hot water tap as the bath is full enough with water. He leans over, pushing his hand against your cheek as he leans there.

"Of course I do, my dear," he pauses, looking into the distance for a moment as if contemplating. "And I do apologize for being so rough with you today, you had to learn your lesson somehow,"

You giggle, pushing his hand away and leaning against the back of the bath.

"It's okay Alastor, I liked it more than I'd like to admit,"

Alastor rolls his eyes at this, grabbing a sponge from the corner of the bath.

"Charming, my fawn," He says, putting his sponge into the water and squeezing it so the soapy water fills it. He begins to scrub you with it, staring with your face as he pushes your hair from your face, holding you there by it.

"Fuck you, as if you didn't enjoy it either!"

He laughs, scrubbing your nose as you scrunch your eyes.

"Well of course I did dear, I wouldn't have initiated it if I hadn't, hm?" Alastor hums, moving to scrub your other cheek. You sputter on a cough, your eyes squinting at the way he scrubs you. He just chuckles, scrubbing your chin and jaw.

"Do you really have to clean the entirety of me?" You ask, biting your lower lip as he tilts your head back by your hair. Alastor continues to scrub your chin, moving to the other side of your jaw.

"Well of course I do, a clean fawn is a happy fawn." He says, pinching your cheek and cooing in a sort of cute fashion. Rolling your eyes you attempt to splash water at him, only for the water to be caught up in his green magic and placed back into the water.

"Now don't try anything silly, fawn,"

You moan in annoyance, hissing when his sponge begins to scrub the raw skin on your neck from the collar he had you in. The skin is bruised and even as a couple cuts from the force he used. You wonder what he thinks about when he looks at the damage. Does he find it funny? Does it feed a possessiveness in him? Does he feel guilty?

"What do you think about when you see the marks on me?" You ask out of the blue, against your better judgement.

Much to your surprise, Alastor just tilts his head in acknowledgement before speaking.

"Hm, well I feel a tad proud, and I feel a tad guilty. But, I also feel like I want to eat you up!" He answers, ending his sentence in a teasing manor. But you don't miss the slight hunger in his eyes at the thought. You narrow your eyes, speaking: "Please don't,"

"Oh I wouldn't, dear. It's just a tad fun to think about," He says with a humor in his voice, and you can't help but laugh. Alastor moves his hand from your hair, placing it on your neck as he pushes your head back with his thumb.

"Bet you'd get your rocks off to it," You chuckle, biting on your cheek uncomfortably as Alastor scrubs the back of your neck. His eyes darken slightly, tilting your head down to get better access to the back of your neck.

"Don't tempt me, fawn," He says softly, pressing the spong to your collarbone to clean the slightly bruised area. Hissing in pain you flinch away from Alastor as his sponge brushes onto a cut. He gives you a sort of stern yet understanding look, reaching out for your arm to pull you closer to him again as soft as possible.

"Sorry my dear, it's going to hurt," Alastor apologizes, setting his hand back onto your neck so he can scrub your shoulders. Once again you hiss when the sponge hits a sensitive area of raw skin, but this time you stay put.

"You know I don't think it's fair that you get to sit outside of the bath.. how are you gonna clean my legs!" You ask, Alastor just humors you with a chuckle.

"Like this,"

He spins you around gently so your legs are hanging off the edge of the bath, dripping water down to the tiled flooring below. He takes a hold of your left ankle and begins scrubbing your foot, causing you to begin giggling at the way he scrubs the ticklish area.

"Ah! That tickles..!" You laugh, clasping your damp hands over your mouth as he continues scrubbing your foot. Alastor doesn't acknowledge you, instead going to scrub down your calf.

"I still think this is unfair, what if I want to clean you!"

"I had a bath this morning, no point in bathing again," He says with an obvious tone. You roll your eyes, looking up at the roof as he continues to clean your left leg.

"Can I at least wash you another time?"

"Maybe If you continue to be steadfast in no longer entering my studio unprompted, fawn," He answers, leaning over you as he finishes your left leg, beginning to clean your stomach.

"I'm bored.." You groan, leaning your head back into the splashback of the bath. Alastor narrows his eyes, and suddenly a tentacle with another sponge appears behind you, pushing you before beginning to clean your back.

"What a needy thing you are,". He says, causing you to huff out in displeasure. To your surprise he leans over you even more, even slightly towering over you as he cleans your breasts. It makes you blush, really. Having him tower over you like this in almost a lascivious manor whilst doing the most domestic of things. He's just cleaning you, for Christ sake!

"Alastor,"

"Hm?"

You wonder. Does he love you? You want to ask it so badly. When he towers over you like this and cleans every crevice of your body does his heart clench? Does his body feel warm? Does he get those butterflies that you do? You wonder.

"Do you love me?"

He stops moving, both him and his tentacle which had started cleaning your lower back.

His eyes reflect a myriad of emotions, many of which you can't even begin to fathom. He seems almost on edge. As if your question had sent him into his brain completely.

"I.. I think I might in my own.." he pauses, placing his pointer finger against his chin in thought. "Immoral ways,"

"Immoral?"

He continues to wash you, along with the tentacle, seeming to have gotten his point across enough to continue what he was doing.

"I'm not a moral demon, dear. When I think of you I want to devour you, but, I also want to hold you,"

Devour you?

"Well, I love you Alastor.."

"I love you too, fawn. Now let's get to cleaning your hair, shall we?"

You groan, pouting in annoyance at the thought of spending another 30 minutes in this bath. Though Alastor just laughs to himself, squeezing your cheek.

"How cute you are when you're all mad at me, hm?"

You stick out your tongue at him.

Normal, well as normal as you can be, once again.

[ohdeerfully]

K hear me out, a wife! Reader x Alastor and Charlie finds out they had a kid when they were alive. (I don’t mind what the kids name is but make them young and passed due to Spanish flu, dark I know)

omg this has been sitting in my drafts so long, i love requests like this </3 im sorry if it seems rushed, i really wanted to finish it!

Mourning Dove

Alastor x Reader (angst, slight comfort at end) TW: CHILD DEATH, child sickness, reader referred to as a woman but doesnt effect story too much join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

You sat yourself unceremoniously at the bar in the hotel lobby, shoulders slouched and cheek squished against the cold countertop. You weren’t one for alcohol, but you didn’t mind the company of Husk. He didn’t say much unless prompted, but that didn’t bother you. It was nice, honestly, after a day of dealing with the others.

“Somethin’ the matter?” Okay. Nevermind about him not saying much.

“Hmm?” You responded, barely peeking up from your finger that dragged patterns in the surface you laid against. “I’m good.”

“You don’t look it,” Husk observed, and you knew he was referring to the discoloration of your eyes and the residual dampness of your cheeks from crying. Your hair was a mess, too. Yeah, you looked like shit. “Tough day?”

“I guess, yeah,” You sighed, pushing yourself up and leaning back in a stretch while your fingers gripped the countertop to steady yourself. “Just thinking about… Y’know.”

He didn’t pry, and you were thankful for that. Husk did know a little, actually, and knew better than to push for more details. After being stuck with Alastor for so long, with the guy owning his soul and all, he inevitably learned some deep shit about him and, by extension, you. He just grunted in response and went back to spot cleaning his bottles of booze.

“(Y/N)!” A chipper voice called your name, and you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. You thought you were done with all of this for the day, and you were so ready to just go to sleep. “I wanted everybody to join me for dinner today! We have a few new residents, so I want everybody to meet each other.”

You squeezed your lips to prevent a harsh word from responding to Charlie’s invitation. You were so tired. You feigned a weak smile and looked at her. You wanted to say no, to say you needed to sleep, but those huge, pleading eyes of hers caught the rejection in your throat. You tried to reason with yourself that Charlie doesn’t host stuff like this very often. It would just be one night. You’ll survive.

“Okay.” 

She clasped her hands together and jumped on the balls of her feet, thanked you, and took off to find the next resident to invite. You held your head against your hand and you sighed dramatically. Husk looked at you from the corner of his eye, but opted to remain silent. You stood up after a few more minutes of quiet sulking, deciding you should fix yourself up for dinner.

In your room, you gently fixed your hair and threw on a casual outfit. Nothing super nice, just in case food started flying–knowing the antics of some of the hotel residents, it wouldn’t be a surprise.

You slowly made your way to the banquet room, which Charlie had installed for events like today. You could already hear the low murmur of small talk, and you were surprised to see a few new faces. Not a whole lot, just about five, alongside the familiar faces of your friends. Charlie’s hotel was, slowly but surely, becoming more successful.

You spotted Alastor quickly–he was hard to miss due to his height. You settled yourself in a chair next to him at a long table that Charlie had dragged into the room for everybody to sit at. You felt your skin prickle with the familiar sensation of static, which increased slightly as his attention turned towards you. He gave you a grin before focusing his eyes on the racket that was already picking up. You watched his smile curl, a bit sinister, as the sound of shouting caught your attention.

���-my fuckin’ business!” You picked up the tail end of Angel Dust fuming at Vaggie, one pair of arms crossed under his chest. He had a third hand on his hip, with his fourth hand jabbing an accusatory point at the woman in front of him.

“Guys, please!” Charlie pleaded, pressing her shoulder against Vaggie’s in an attempt to move her away from Angel. “I don’t want to scare my new guests away!”

“Tell this bitch to keep her nose outta my shit! I can’t have my fuckin’ life on the line because she doesn’t like my job!” Angel spat. There was a dangerous, maybe even frantic, look in his eyes. Before Charlie could say anything, Angel had spun around and stormed to the table. He ripped the chair out and slammed his body down. All four of his arms were crossed now as he glowered at the wooden tabletop.

You sighed, and felt a headache already forming. 

Angel’s spirits quickly changed when Husk sulked into the room. He had his paws stuffed in his pockets, and glared at the air in front of him. He sat down at the other end of the table, but Angel was quick to stand up and saunter his way over to sit next to the cat. You couldn’t quite catch the flirtatious remarks that made Husk roll his eyes. 

You observed them for a while, watching as Husk slowly grew more comfortable in the small talk he and Angel shared. He would never admit it, but you knew Husk didn’t hate Angel’s company. Husk seemingly said something about you to Angel that made him whip his head up to look at you. You quickly averted your gaze.

Charlie had been standing by her own chair, and a cough from her throat made the chatter die down. You didn’t really listen to the overly sappy speech she had started to give, your mind drifting away in absent thought. You picked your nails into the edge of the table, fidgeting with the light cloth.

Alastor caught your attention by lightly nudging his leg against yours. You trailed your eyes up to his, meeting his red gaze. There was a hint of worry in his eyes, and his grin twitched at the edges as he looked at your exhausted face. He tilted his head in a silent question.

You merely shook your head in response, and mouthed a quick “it’s nothing” and hoped that he wouldn’t press. He didn’t, but you knew he’d ask again in a private room.

Charlie sat down again, and Vaggie rubbed her shoulder, murmuring a silent praise. You dragged your eyes across the table, making note of the handful of new faces. None of them seemed to take Charlie very seriously, but that didn’t come as a surprise. They probably just liked free food.

The food in question seemingly materialized out of nowhere, and you chalked it up to her “princess of hell” type powers that she didn’t use very often. You smiled gratefully and, though you didn’t have much of an appetite, you started slowly picking at the plate in front of you.

The room once again began to rumble with small talk, but at some point the multiple conversations began to melt together until the whole table was talking to each other in one. Charlie was doing most of the heavy lifting with keeping the conversation going.

“-the deal with the Radio Demon and that gal next to him?” You perked your ears when you heard this reference to yourself. One of the new guests, some sort of lizard demon, had a finger pointed at the two of you. He had a slight country drawl in his voice. You saw Alastor’s smile widen when the attention of the table turned towards himself.

“My darling wife,” Alastor stated simply, briefly placing a hand on your shoulder. His eyes were closed as he smiled proudly. You silently nodded with a light, polite smiling. “We knew each other in life. It’s only natural for us to remain together. It would have been a shame for death to do us part.”

“Didn’t think you was the type…” The lizard said slowly, eyeing the two of you carefully. You didn’t blame him; what kind of nut job would marry the Radio Demon? Though, as Alastor said, you were married before Hell, and he wasn’t so… infamous back then. He was actually rather sweet, besides the whole serial killer thing–which, in your defense, you weren’t even aware of till he was shot to death.

“Didn’t think ya were the type to have a kid, either,” Angel piped up absently, one arm thrown lazily over the back of his chair. You watched as Husk tried desperately to shut him up as he continued to speak, but you barely heard the words over the sound of your heart picking up pace, and the increased radio frequency of Alastor’s. His body had stiffened and his eyes had shot open, quickly narrowing as his smile strained and curled dangerously, his gums visible in a snarl. His eyes were not on Angel, but on Husk, whose ears were flattened against his head and a nervous look in his wide eyes.

You weren’t really paying attention though, but you felt the intense tension and rapid prickling on your skin. Your breathing became more labored and you pointed your face to the table to try to hide the building tears in your eyes. You had tried so hard, all day, to push back the memories that kept threatening to resurface. What are the chances that on the same day, the topic was brought up, destroying the wall you had built to contain the anxiety, regret, grief…

You were kneeling by the wrinkled, messy sheets of the twin bed your son had been in for the past couple days. Your heart was tight, and you could barely breathe as you looked at him. He gazed blearily at the ceiling, following the path of the rocking fan. Every breath he took scratched at his throat, as if there were pebbles blocking the path. He barely had the strength to cough. His lips were dry and cracked, and his graying skin still had a flush of fever. You used a damp rag to clean the dried snot under his nose.

You had tried everything. Every recommended antibiotic, every treatment, therapy, exercise; nothing had worked. Nobody knew how to treat the illness. You had even tried to work with witch doctors that Alastor knew. You had spent so much of what little money you had trying to save your little boy.

Alastor was often gone during this time, being the one to go out and find something new to try. You never left the room, even when your husband tried to push you to go outside to stretch your legs or take a shower. He promised to watch over your son. But you just couldn’t, not with David laying on these dirty sheets, looking so frail, weak, and small. You had often called him little dove, and it made you sick to think that your nickname was now like a cruel adjective to describe his current state. A sick, frail baby bird. He had barely eaten in the past eight days, and you didn’t want to admit to yourself that any scratchy breath he took could be that last one.

You stiffened when his head rolled over towards you, and his eyes struggled to focus on you. His cracked lips grimaced for a moment, followed by a sharp, grating cough that made your heart drop and your eyes sting. You reached a shaky hand forward to smooth down his knotted hair.

“Am I going to be okay,” David said weakly. His voice caught on the tightness in his throat multiple times. “I feel really bad.”

“I know baby, but you’re okay,” You said tenderly, continuing to stroke his hair. “Your dad is getting you some new medicine. You’ll be okay.”

You were lying to him, and to yourself. But you couldn’t help but cling on to a morsel of hope–it was all you could do, really. David just looked towards you, his eyes flicking around slightly, unable to truly focus on anything.

“I’m tired.” He said. His breathing was labored.

“I know.”

Your emotions threatened to spill from your eyes as you watched him turn his head back towards the ceiling, eyes shutting. You didn’t want to cry; you couldn’t, not in front of him. You needed to stay strong for him.

You pressed the back of your hand to his burning forehead, and then trailed your hand to his chest, lightly pressing against him to feel his heartbeat. It was slow, and slowing. Your own heart picked up in response. 

You heard the door in another room open, shut, and footsteps quickly pace towards the room. The door cracked lightly, and the tall, thin frame of your husband peeked in. He held a brown back tightly in his fist. With one look into your eyes, he knew something was wrong. Or, well, more wrong than usual. 

You clenched your jaw to prevent any sob from escaping your lips as he sat the bag down on an end table and kneeled next to you, gripping your waist tightly as he looked at David. The boy’s breath had gotten dangerously quiet.

You watched as his eyes opened again.

“I’m tired.” He repeated, weaker this time.

Both you and Alastor leaned towards the bed, his hand on David’s leg as you gingerly lifted the boy’s head into your arms, pulling his light body towards yourself. You shifted yourself up into the bed with him, trying to wrap as much of yourself around your son as possible. You could feel his heartbeat getting slower with every weak breath he took.

“Sleep, then,” your voice trembled. You felt Alastor grip your shoulder, his other hand softly rubbing David’s arm. You couldn’t describe the expression on his face. “I’ll see you in the morning, little dove.” You lied.

“In heaven?” He responded. Your breath hitched at his words. He knew, somehow, that he was dying. How sick it was, for such a young boy to be aware of his impending death. How cruel God was.

“Yeah, I promise,” Was all you could muster. You worried that any more would destroy the dam that held back your tears.

It broke, though, when you felt David’s heart finally stop. You choked on a sob once, twice, before finally you started wailing. Screaming. You held a vice-like grip on the boy, both your arms and legs secured around him. Alastor was still quiet, but he had sat across from you on the bed and pulled you towards him, securing you and David’s still-warm body in an equally tight grip. You could feel his strained breathing and tight jaw against your head. He said something, but you didn’t hear him.

Your mind rushed back to the present when you felt a hand on your back. Your head whipped towards Alastor, who was looking at you. The table was dead silent, and there was still a look of rage in his eyes, but his smile held a softness that was only ever given to you. Your heart still beat strongly, and you struggled to breathe, but you were at least glad that your mind was still back in the present.

Evidently, barely any time had passed. Angel had a nervous look in his expression, which he tried and failed to mask as Husk cursed at him. Charlie was looking at you in worry.

“(Y/N),” She said softly. “...How come you never-”

“Truly, there is no point in speaking of life before death,” Alastor interrupted her, the usual cheer in his voice lilted by a masked emotion. You knew he felt the same grief as you, but he was a million times better at acting naturally. “What a waste of time and emotion.”

Alastor stood quickly, his hand trailing against your shoulders as he walked past you and towards Angel and Husk. Husk’s ears flattened to his skull again as Alastor loomed over them, hands behind his back as a smile twisted his features.

“Husker, my friend,” He said, the cat demon visibly flinching at the mention of his name. “Let’s take a walk.”

Husk didn’t move, and the room grew heavy with tension with every second as the sound of radio frequency got louder and somehow sharper. Alastor bent at the waist, his snarling smile inches away from the panicked expression on Husk’s face. 

“Is the tomcat getting too old to hear?” You barely picked up Alastor’s words, but you definitely heard the threatening tone in his voice.

The cat swallowed hard before standing up. He shot one last infuriated look at Angel, before whipping his head back to attention when Alastor tapped his cane against the ground impatiently. The two of them left the room, and the tension in the air immediately lifted when the door shut.

Charlie startled you when she placed a delicate hand on your upper arm, and she guided you to your feet and out another set of doors. A weak smile touched her expression.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked as you both went up the stairs towards your hotel room. You shook your head silently at her offer. She only nodded back, and said nothing more. She opened the door to your room for you, and waited till you settled down in your bed before saying a string of comforting words that you didn’t really pay attention to. The door clicked softly, and you once again began to sob.

Only a few minutes passed before you felt your skin prickle with a static-like feeling. You had grown to find comfort in the odd sensation, and felt incredibly relieved when you knew Alastor was sitting next to you. You didn’t even hear him enter the room.

He pulled you wordlessly against his chest, lying the two of you down. You twisted yourself in his grip till your ear rested against him, listening to the odd drum of what you assumed was a heart.

“Has David been troubling you all day?” He asked you when your sobs slowed and you caught your breath. You nodded. Alastor rubbed a soothing hand on your shoulder blade. You recognized the tone of grief in his voice as he spoke. “What a pesky boy, even all these years later.”

You wrapped your arms tightly around Alastor’s neck as tears began flowing again.

Though you would never tell him, you often hoped Charlie’s idea of redemption would work. Your husband himself would likely never follow that path; you knew he saw no point and enjoyed the power he held in Hell. But, you wished every day to see your son again. To see your little dove.

You had promised him.