#this is like his anger issues that he doesn't have. HELLO.

[according2thelore]

i love the es/ls verse SO MUCCCHHHH!!! sam’s self-hatred towards his younger self in that last one is just - mwah! chef’s kiss! he’s so jealous of him and he also believes that that kid doesn’t deserve dean!! meanwhile younger sam hates older sam for what he’s become, but he’s jealous, too. ah!! amazing!

and dean not understanding and getting angry with sam’s self hatred is so wonderful. it’s like one if their key issues, but now it’s not a theoretical issue, it’s A Guy. and his name is 23y/o Sam Winchester.

you’re sooo amazing. love this so much. would love to see more if you’ve got it - the deans not understanding the sams’ negative feelings towards each other, and getting protective over it

hello, anon!

you get it: "it’s like one if their key issues, but now it’s not a theoretical issue, it’s A Guy. and his name is 23y/o Sam Winchester." HAHAHAHA you nailed it!

thank you so much!!! that means a lot--mwah mwah! <3

i always have more of it, lol!

~~~

"hey."

sam looks up sharply, startled. dean--his dean, young dean--is standing in the doorway of their shared bedroom in the bunker. his arms are crossed, and he looks peeved. he leans against the doorway, and he crosses his ankles in a practiced show of nonchalance.

"you don't need to talk to him like that." dean says, jaw ticking. sam snorts derisively, turning back around. he continues folding the shirt in his hand, and smacks it to his bed with enough force that it comes unfolded again.

sam doesn't reach for it again, just grabbing another.

"yeah. great. thanks dean." sam says. he's exhausted. anger--his old friend--rises up in him, but he can't even be bothered to put the energy in to stoke it.

after he confronted older sam in the kitchen, older dean's words pierced deep. i'm disappointed in you. sam feels like a chastened child. he is, in a way.

"what's that supposed to mean?" dean asks, stepping into the room. sam can feel him get closer. hates it. he folds his shirt faster, and doesn't look up at him.

"you took his side. i knew you would." sam spits the words like the poison they are. of course dean would pick the sam that doesn't fight with him, that doesn't want anything else.

dean stops, somewhere behind him, and sam hates that he can feel his brother without seeing him--a skill he had gotten on his knees and thanked god for when he was younger.

"okay what's with this--" dean fumbles for words. "this 'side' thing? it's just one side."

"no." sam finally whirls on him, dropping the shirt onto the bed. "it's not."

"sam." dean's brow is furrowed, and his voice is firm. "you need to back off. he's trying. he's been super cool with us staying here and--"

sam scoffs.

"spare me your hard-on." he spits. dean's eyebrows raise, and heat starts spotting his cheeks. sam wants to take him to the ground, until the reason dean's cheeks are pink are sam's hands, sam.

"that! what the fuck is that? back off!" dean shouts, and his hands ball at his sides. he doesn't deny it.

"back off? back off?" sam is incandescent with rage, his earlier apathy lighting aflame like dry tinder. "am i suddenly an asshole for not wanting to be here? for wanting to get home? i though that's what we wanted."

"it is--you know it is!"

"do i? do i fucking really?" sam gets in dean's face, shoves him back a step. "you're practically salivating whenever he walks into a room, you take his side in everything, you act like he's mother fucking teresa--"

dean's cheeks keep rising in colour, but his face is drawn into a furious scowl. he shoves sam back. sam's skin screams, buzzes, where dean touches it.

"he's you!"

"no, he's not!" sam shoves him back.

"sam." dean looks at him like he's crazy. sam feels like he is crazy, that this whole thing has driven him completely mad. "he is. he literally is. you're dogging on my little brother."

sam blinks hard, trying to fight off the sudden, blinding bite of tears.

"fuck you." sam spits. fuck dean for saying that like it's nothing. for claiming him like it's nothing. my little brother. dean only has one little brother.

"i'm--" sam starts, but cuts himself off because his voice is humiliatingly high. dean's face changes, irritation slipping into incredulity. sam wants him to stop thinking immediately. "stop that."

"are you--" dean's face splits into a grin.

"shut up, i swear to god--" sam begs, sitting down on his bed heavily and covering his eyes with his hands.

"you're jealous! or something! you're weird!" dean crows, and sam pitches to the side as dean's weight slams down onto the bed next to him.

sam moves his hands. dean is sitting on the side of his bed, tilted towards him and looking down at him. sam scowls.

he knows their MO is mockery and sarcasm, but for one fucking second, he just wants his brother to take him seriously. to take his side.

"i will take you down." sam threatens lowly, and throws an arm over his face. he waits for a beat, hoping dean will go away.

"sam." dean's voice is disappointingly close. "sammy, look at me."

sam is so shocked that dean has given him his name back that he moves his arm away. he sits up on his elbows. dean looks surprisingly somber, as he says:

"i'm not built to look at people be mean to 'sam.'" dean puts air quotes around his name. sam snorts, but dean just raises his eyebrows. "i'm not. i am hardwired to want to fuck up sammy's bullies. kinda my whole thing."

he's smiling a little at the end. sam softens. just a bit. he's not used to dean wanting to protect other people. he's not used to becoming a second priority in dean's life, in dean choosing a third party over sam's opinion, not since dad died.

"are you...are you calling me a bully?" sam asks, half-amused, half-irritated. dean rolls his eyes, but looks frustrated, like he can't even tell what he means.

"i'm saying. i...don't know. i'm kinda...protective over the guy. he's a sammy." dean shrugs. sam tilts his head, thinking.

"so you're saying if i get him to be a dick to me, you'll suplex him over a table?"

"oh yeah. i'll get a stepladder to reach him and everything." dean assures. sam snorts.

they sit in silence for a second, dean looking down at sam's face, and sam looking up at the ceiling, to give dean the chance to look. in a few minutes, it'll be sam's turn to look at dean while dean looks away.

a thought occurs to sam, though, and he looks over. dean obediently looks away, though there's a frown tugging at the edge of his lip, like he's annoyed his time was cut short.

"i'm not promising anything until you promise to be nice to big dean." sam says, and dean makes a disapproving, alarmed noise. he looks back at sam, eyes wide.

"that old fart? that's totally different. he's a dick. sammy's actually great and brilliant and nice and huge, so." dean tilts his chin up, like he's made a point. sam's chest seizes briefly around the impression of something--unused to and displeased with hearing dean praise someone else like this.

"hey!" sam says sharply, holding up an accusing finger. "dean's not that bad."

"hypocrite." "hypocrite." they say at once, dean's lower tone layering underneath sam's.

they blink at each other.

and--for the first time in too damn long--two brothers dissolve in, frankly, giggles. sam slumps forward into dean's arm, and dean scrubs a hand through his hair.

~~~

"he's trying his best." dean mutters into sammy's bare shoulder. sammy closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of dean's chapped lip on his skin.

their younger selves were probably hashing it out, too, a wing away.

sammy turns around in dean's arms, and sam nudges his way under dean's chin. dean lifts his head obediently, and sam exhales against dean's bare chest. he wishes he were still small enough to fit here completely.

even his younger self couldn't do this, anymore.

"i know." sam says, finally. he doesn't have to ask "i think...i think i hate him."

dean's arms seize around sam's shoulders.

"no, you don't. he's a kid. a baby."

my kid. my baby. dean's words don't say. sam hears them. he hates them. that's why he hates this kid. among many reasons. he's so blindly arrogant, so violent, so harsh. so fucking prideful. head full of his own words and heart full of fire. and dean looks at him like he looks at sammy.

"no, i don't." sammy acquiesces. and he doesn't. "resent" is probably a better word.

dean reads his silences so well that he starts petting through sam's hair. it should feel infantilizing, but it doesn't. sam sighs. he's an adult. and in a second, he'll pull away and deal with this like a regular person.

"do you miss him?" sam asks, after a long pause. him. sam. the sam i used to be. the sam that sits a dozen rooms over, talking to his own brother.

"i'll always miss you." dean says. "all versions of my pain in the ass are my pains in the ass."

sam snorts, but it's half-hearted, quiet.

there are worse things, sam supposes, than being loved to the point of absurdity. to the point of forgiveness. to the point of dean loving all versions of him, all the time.

"as long as i'm your favourite." sam murmurs. dean noses along his hairline, breathes deep in sam's hair. sammy knows dean isn't good at saying it out loud. but the soft lips at his temple are answer enough for him. dean's horrifyingly sappy when he's quiet.

you're always my favourite.

~~~

thank you for your patience, anon! i hope you enjoyed!!!! life kinda came at me w a baseball bat, so i'm sorry it took so long to respond! i hope you see this :)

-lizzy

[eddiegettingshot]

Like literally we need to change the narrative around eddie's control issues. it is getting dire. why does nobody want to get him out.

[wholoveseggs]

Hello, how are you? Could i request an angsty but smutty and fluff fic of Elijah and reader where they get into a fight but makeup in the end?

Stubborn

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You and Elijah get into a fight about his protective nature. He thinks you are too stubborn, and you think he's too controlling. How will you resolve your issues?

♡♡ Thanks for the request anon! I don't know if this is very angsty, but it certainly is very smutty ♡♡

4.1k words - Warnings: smuttttt, very little plot, Cami being the best, dom!elijah (you like him in control? well... here you go...), fingering, squirting, angry sex...

"I'm not some damsel in distress, I don't need your protection!" You yelled, louder than you meant to. Arguing with Elijah was always a test of your restraint. He made it so damn difficult, he was always calm and composed. Sometimes you just wanted to push his buttons.

"Darling, I have so many enemies, and you're not invincible." He tried to reason.

"Don't patronize me, I know that, but you treat me like I can't take care of myself!" You snapped, pacing around the living room. You tried to calm yourself down, you didn't want to say something you'd regret, but the anger bubbling inside you wouldn't go away.

"I'm not trying to patronize you, I just think you could make better decisions." He said softly, his eyes following you as you paced.

"It's like you're treating me like a child! We're supposed to be equals, and you always talk to me like you're the parent and I'm the kid!" Your voice cracked a little, when you got angry you also would cry. You hated that about yourself.

Elijah could see the pain in your eyes, you were his soft and sweet y/n. He just wanted to protect you. He tried to approach you, to hold you and comfort you, but you pushed him away.

His actions made you feel weak, and foolish, here was a man that faced countless dangers, he was centuries old, he fought vampires and werewolves, witches and even his own siblings. And you were just this fragile thing, this tiny human he had to watch out for. It made you feel so weak and pathetic, all your insecurities bubbling up inside you, the tears falling down your cheeks.

You stormed away from him, and he let you, because he knew if he pushed you, it would just make things worse.

You had been dating Elijah for two months now, and in that time, he had taken on the role of a protective boyfriend. You liked being taken care of, but sometimes it felt like he didn't see you as an equal.

You had been arguing about this a lot lately. You didn't like being treated like you were breakable. You weren't. You had dealt with plenty of dangers in your life, and he didn't give you enough credit.

He was a stubborn man, and you were a stubborn woman, so the tension kept rising, until you finally had to get away from him. So you decided to stay at Cami's for a few days, she was a good friend, and she didn't judge you. She could always use some company anyways.

"So, he's a bit over protective, huh?" Cami asked. You were curled up on her couch, drinking a glass of wine. You were both having a night in, wearing pajamas and doing self-care.

"Yeah, and I know he means well, but I really value my independence, it's not something I'm willing to give up," You admitted.

"Do you feel like he doesn't respect you?" She asked, taking a sip of her own wine.

"No, he does, I know that, but it feels like he doesn't trust me." You said, looking down into your glass.

Cami stood and grabbed some snacks, tossing you a bag of your favorite chips. "I don't think that's it, I think he's scared. Scared to lose you. He's been through so much, and he's lost a lot of people he's loved." She said, plopping back down on the couch.

You let out a long sigh, you knew of his pain, but it was still hard to hear out loud. He held all of his trauma inside him, and sometimes it was difficult for him to share, even with you.

"I love him Cami, it's just hard. I've always had to take care of myself, I guess I just have a hard time accepting someone wanting to do that for me." You said softly, feeling the tears brimming your eyes.

"Have you told him that? That you love him?" She asked.

"No, I... I want him to say it first." You admitted.

Cami chuckled and took a long sip of her wine, then grabbed the remote and turned on a movie. It was one of those sappy romances that were so over the top and cheesy. But that's why they were so fun to watch.

"Just tell him. I'm sure he loves you too." Cami said, her gaze fixed on the tv.

"I know," you sighed, "I just want him to initiate, his so reserved, and I'm tired of always being the one who has to take the first step." You grumbled.

"He's probably worried about scaring you away, or making things awkward, you know how he can be." She said, turning to look at you, giving you a comforting smile.

"Yeah, I guess." You mumbled, curling up further on the couch.

Cami gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and the two of you continued to watch your movie, the sappy love story playing out in front of you.

"So," she said, breaking the silence, "how's the sex?"

You choked on your wine, sputtering a bit before regaining your composure. Cami was a little shit sometimes.

"The sex is amazing," You said, smirking at her. "But... I'm always the one initiating it. Sometimes I think his biggest problem is that he's too gentlemanly."

"Well, what have you done to make him be more spontaneous?" Cami asked, grabbing the bottle of wine and pouring more in her glass.

"Me?" You squeaked. "What did I do?"

"Maybe he doesn't want to take control because you never gave him permission." She asked.

You sat and thought about that. You were usually the one who would start things. You initiated kisses, hugs, hand holding, even the sex. Elijah was so reserved, so proper, he didn't want to overstep. It made you feel like he didn't desire you, which was ridiculous, you had seen him undressing you with his eyes.

"That's fair." You said. "I didn't realize he was waiting for permission."

"Men are idiots." Cami stated, making you laugh.

"Sometimes," you said, chuckling. "I just want to see him be the one to initiate, you know?"

"I know." She said, leaning back on the couch.

You finished the bottle of wine and watched the rest of the movie. It was so sweet, the ending was a happy one, the couple was together and they were in love. You wished life was that simple.

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a dry mouth. Cami was already awake, making coffee.

"Ugh," you groaned, rubbing your temples. "I should have drank more water,"

"I tried to remind you." Cami said, smirking at you.

"Well, excuse me for being drunk," You replied.

She handed you a mug of coffee, and you sipped it slowly, letting the warmth of the drink soothe your throat.

"Thanks for letting me stay here," you said.

"You know I don't mind." She replied, sitting on the couch next to you.

You leaned your head on her shoulder, sighing.

"I love him, but I think I need some space. Some time to myself." You said softly.

"I think that's a good idea." She replied.

"Are we doing the right thing? Am I being selfish?" You asked, chewing your bottom lip.

"No, you're not. You're being realistic. You need some space and some time to yourself." She replied.

"I'm going to go to the compound and pick up some clothes and stuff." You said.

"Want me to come with you?" She asked.

"No, that's ok, I think I can handle myself." You replied, smiling at her.

She gave you a reassuring squeeze and you got up, feeling a bit better after your talk.

"Thanks Cami, I'll call you later," You said, grabbing your keys and heading out.

Elijah was sitting at the kitchen counter, drinking a glass of whiskey, and he had a book open in front of him, though he wasn't reading it. His mind was too preoccupied. He missed you terribly, it had only been a couple days, but it felt like an eternity.

He thought back to the last conversation you had had. You had stormed off, and he hadn't chased after you, because he knew you needed time to cool down. He wanted to tell you he was sorry, but he knew you didn't want to hear it right now.

You were the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he didn't want to lose you. He was used to losing people, he had spent centuries running, he had been betrayed, lied to, hurt. But he had never met anyone quite like you.

You were sweet, funny, smart, and caring. He had fallen for you quickly, but he had been too afraid to admit it. Like if he said it out loud, everything would fall apart.

But in your absence he realized his mistake, and how foolish he had been. No more wasting time, he needs to tell you that he loves you, despite how stubborn you are.

You walked into the compound, it was eerily quiet, you hoped Elijah was out. So you could just quickly grab your things and leave.

You didn't expect him to be waiting for you in the kitchen, his face was serious, but his eyes were full of emotion.

"Elijah, I'm just here to pick up some clothes," You said, trying to walk past him. He stepped in front of you, blocking your way.

"We need to talk." He said, his tone firm.

"No, we really don't, I just want my things," You said, trying to move around him. He moved again, his arms crossed, and his face was stern.

"Stop treating me like a child! Let me by!" You yelled. He let you pass him and you ran up to your bedroom, grabbing some clothes.

He followed you and stood in the doorway, watching you, his eyes boring into your skin.

"Stop looking at me like that," You said, throwing some clothes into a bag.

"I hate seeing you upset," He replied, his voice soft.

"I'm not upset, I'm just angry." You said, moving past him to go into the bathroom, grabbing your toothbrush.

He followed you and leaned against the doorframe, watching you gather your toiletries.

"Please, let's just talk." He pleaded.

You sighed, looking up at him, his expression was pained, his jaw was clenched. You could see the desperation in his eyes. Your anger was still in charge though and you pushed past him again and started packing your things on the bed.

"So talk, I'm listening," You said harshly, still not looking at him.

He took a deep breath, his fists clenched, and he closed his eyes for a moment, composing himself. He knew he couldn't get through to you when you were angry like this.

"You're right," He said, opening his eyes and looking at you. "I'm sorry. I haven't been treating you fairly. I've been trying to protect you. But you are being stubborn and you're not letting me explain,"

You turned to look at him, trying to ignore how good he looked. His hair was messy, like he had been running his hands through it, and he was wearing a black shirt, his sleeves rolled up, and his tie was hanging loose around his neck. A part of you wanted to just give in and kiss him, but the other part of you was still pissed off.

He could hear your heart beating faster, your body temperature rising. He knew that he had an effect on you, and he was enjoying seeing you get flustered. He gave you a crooked smirk, and took a step closer to you, and you backed up, hitting the bed.

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady your breathing. You were angry, but his presence always made your body react, and your head spin.

"So stubborn," he growled, pushing you onto the bed.

"Fuck you, Elijah," you hissed, trying to sit up.

"Not today," he smirked, pinning you down with his weight.

"I said, fuck you," You growled, pushing on his chest.

He chuckled and leaned down, his face inches from yours. His eyes were dark, his lips curled up in a devilish smile.

"Say please," He purred, his breath ghosting over your lips.

You let out a frustrated groan, and he kissed you, hard. You whimpered, and he slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring it, tasting you.

"Is this what you want? To be fucked?" He whispered, his lips grazing your ear.

"No," you lied, trying to squirm away from him, but his grip was too tight.

"Don't lie, darling, your body betrays you," He growled, nibbling your earlobe before leaving a trail of hickeys down your neck.

He suddenly tore the shirt off of you, making you gasp. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, his other hand moving to your waist, pulling your skirt off.

"Eli- my clothes!" You whined, but he just chuckled, his eyes roaming your body.

"I'll buy you new ones," He smirked, nipping at your jaw, then capturing your lips with his.

"You can't just-" you were cut off by him biting your lip. You groaned and he released you, his hands roaming your body.

"Stop being so stubborn," He whispered, his fingers brushing over your lace panties, making you shiver.

"I'm not," you argued, biting back a moan as his fingers teased your clit.

He laid on his side next to you, opening your legs and pushing your panties out of the way. He grazed over your clit with the pad of his index finger, teasing you slowly. He loved this, teasing you, torturing you. You were so beautiful when you were desperate for him.

You whined and pushed your hips against his hand, and he pulled his hand away, smirking.

"You're such a tease," You growled, glaring at him.

"You're cute when you're angry," He smiled, his fingers returning to your pussy. He tapped your clit lightly, his lips ghosting over yours. You tried not to react, but it felt so good, this dominant side of him was driving you crazy.

He slid two fingers into you, and began thrusting them slowly. You gasped and arched your back, moaning loudly. Watching your reaction was thrilling, his cock was painfully hard, but he wanted to make you cum first.

"Listen to those sweet sounds," he purred, pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right. “So filthy and wet, the way your body responds, it's like you were made for me."

"You're a fucking asshole," you moaned, trying to buck your hips against his fingers.

"I can stop, if you want," He whispered, his voice dark. 

"No," You whimpered, "I-I'm close."

"Oh, I know, darling." He smiled, "You're going to cum, and I'm going to make you cum again, and again, until all the stubborn thoughts in your head disappear."

His fingers were pumping fast now, and you couldn't help the noises you were making. Your orgasm was building in such a way that you knew it would be intense. He was right, you were stubborn, you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan, but it was becoming more and more difficult to hold back.

"Eli- wait, your gonna make me-" You stuttered, gasping as he added a third finger, stretching you even more.

"Make a mess?" He purred, curling his fingers just right, hitting your g-spot.

The lewd, wet, squelching noises coming from your pussy were embarrassing, and the fact that he was enjoying them made it worse. He could feel your walls tightening around his fingers, your whole body trembling, you were so close.

He sped up his pace, and he could see the moment when you reached your peak. Your body tensed up, your back arching, and then a loud cry escaped your lips.

Your juices spilled out onto his fingers, covering his hand. It was so much, you had never squirted before, and the look on Elijah's face was pure lust and amusement.

It made you embarrassed and a bit angry and you tried to move away, but he kept his fingers buried deep inside you, not letting you escape.

"Don't be ashamed," He said, kissing your forehead, his fingers moving slowly, causing your legs to tremble.

"I'm not," You panted, glaring at him, trying to suppress a moan.

"Really?" He purred, his eyes locking with yours, "Then why are you blushing?"

He smirked, and you tried to hide your face in the sheets, but he wouldn't let you. He was still smirking, and you were getting angrier.

"I'm not-"

"Shh, love, you can't hide from me," he cooed, his fingers still pumping into you, stretching you out. Building up another climax.

"Eli-fuck," You gasped, the pleasure building.

"That's it, let me hear those pretty sounds," He whispered, his voice husky.

He was still fully clothed, and he hadn't even touched himself, he was only focused on you.

He kept fucking his fingers into you, his thumb circling your clit, making sure every inch of your pussy was being stimulated.

Your body was trembling, and you could feel yourself getting close again, you pushed your heels into the bed, trying to get away, but he didn't stop, he just kept going, his pace relentless.

"I can't- oh fuck-," You gasped, arching your back as the orgasm crashed over you. Your wetness soaked his hand and the bed below.

Elijah pulled his fingers out, bringing them up to his mouth and licking them clean. Then he kissed you, his tongue pushing past your lips, tasting all of you.

You tried to glare at him, but he was now kissing your neck, his free hand moving down to cup your breast, teasing your nipples.

"I'm still mad at you," You panted, trying not to moan.

"I know," He smirked, "And I'm not finished with you."

He grabbed your thighs, spreading your legs, and settled between them, his eyes roaming over your body.

"Such a pretty thing," He murmured, tracing patterns on your skin.

He took ahold of your waist, pulling you towards him, and began to grind against your wet pussy, making you whimper.

"You're so sensitive, baby," He cooed, his lips brushing over your collarbone.

You could feel his erection straining against his pants, and you could tell he was enjoying this just as much as you were. He undid his belt, pulling it out of the loops, and tossing it to the floor.

He pulled your arms above your head, his hand gripping your wrists. He unzipped his pants and took his cock out, pressing it against your entrance.

"You're already soaked for me," He whispered, kissing you deeply.

You moaned into the kiss, and he pushed his cock into you, making you whimper. He was so thick, and his length filled you completely, making your body tremble.

He began to thrust into you, his pace steady, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips grazing over your skin.

"I'm not a toy," You managed to say, your voice strained.

"No, you're not, you're mine," He growled, his hips slamming into yours, his cock hitting all the right spots.

"Fuck," You gasped, arching your back.

His grip on your wrists tightened, and he spread your legs even wider. He grinded his hips slowly, wanting to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible.

You could feel the pressure building, and it was becoming harder to concentrate, all you could focus on was his cock, his weight on top of you, the way he was looking at you.

"Say it," He growled, his hips moving faster now. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours," You moaned, your voice cracking, your resolve breaking with every deep stroke.

The sound of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy filled the room, mixed with your moans and gasps, and the way the bed was creaking. He knew you were close, he could feel your muscles starting to clench around him.

"No no stubborn one, you don't get to cum yet," He growled, nipping at your ear.

He wrapped your legs around his waist, pinning you to the bed. His pace increased and he leaned in to kiss you.

"Come on darling, give in, admit I'm right," He whispered.

"Eli, please," You moaned, your fingers gripping his shirt.

"All you have to do is submit," He cooed, pressing his lips to yours.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to resist the urge to give in, but it was so intense and his pace was relentless. He wasn't going to stop, not until you broke.

"Look at the way you open up for me," He said, his voice husky as he grinded against you. "Your needy little pussy, milking my cock, begging to be filled."

You looked down at where his cock was buried inside of you, moving in and out of your pussy. You could see how wet you were, covering his pants and your thighs, making a mess of the sheets.

"Hmm, you like that? Seeing how wet you are, all for me," He whispered, leaning down to kiss you. "Just admit that you are stubborn, and we can cum together."

Your whole body was shaking, your orgasm so close, but you fought it, squeezing your thighs together, trying to close your legs, but he wouldn't let you.

You gave up, you didn't care about the fight anymore, you just wanted to cum, you just wanted him to stop torturing you. You couldn't think straight, everything was too much, his thrusts were deep and hard, his cock was filling you, stretching you out, he knew just how to fuck you.

You couldn't hold back anymore and you finally gave in, submitting to him. "You're right," you gasped, your voice barely audible. "Please, Eli, fuck, I'm sorry, just let me cum."

"Good girl," He groaned, leaning back and spreading your thighs wide, pounding into you. He began to stroke your clit with his thumb, drawing circles, as his hips snapped hard and fast.

It was all too much, and you felt an intense release, your body convulsing, your wetness soaking him, making a mess of the clothes he was still wearing and the bed.

He chuckled, watching your cheeks flush in embarrassment as he fucked you through it. He made you squirt all over him, submitting to him completely.

You were still trembling, trying to catch your breath, you couldn't focus, your whole body was tingling with pleasure, you felt like you were floating.

He kissed you deeply, pressing his body to yours before he let out a low groan and came inside you, his cock twitching. You shuddered, your pussy still sensitive, but he didn't stop, he continued moving his hips slowly.

You could feel the warmth of his cum filling you, his cock throbbing, his breathing uneven. He kissed you softly and slowly, his fingers brushing over your cheek, caressing your face as he pulled out of you.

Now that you had come down from your high, you felt a mixture of frustration and humiliation. You tried to move, but he held you there, a devilish grin plastered on his face.

He shifted onto his back, pulling you on top of him. You straddled him, your body on top of his, your chest pressing against his chest.

"I love you," he whispered, pulling you in for another kiss.

"Eli," you muttered, burying your face in his chest. You couldn't believe he had fucked you in that way, and now he was saying the three words you wanted to hear the most. He was so perfect and so infuriating at the same time. You were angry that he was able to make you give in so easily, but it was worth it. It had never felt so good.

"I love you too, asshole," you replied, making him laugh.

He kissed you once more before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. His hands rested on your lower back, tracing lazy circles.

"I'm sorry for being protective, it's not because I don't trust you, it's because I'm afraid of losing you," he said quietly.

"I know, and I'm sorry for saying that you're a control freak," you apologized.

"No you're not," He smirked, kissing you again.

"I'm getting there," you sighed.

He laughed, tracing the curve of your hips with his fingertips. You could feel him harden underneath you, and it turned you on again. And you slowly ground your hips against his, teasing him.

His eyes grew dark, and he placed his hands on your ass, squeezing firmly. "Darling, don't," He said warningly, his voice strained.

You ignored him, rolling your hips, grinding into his lap, you wanted more.

"Don't be so stubborn Eli-,"

You were on your back before you could finish your sentence, your legs spread, his lips on yours.

You were definitely going to fight with him more often…

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please

[bluerosegardens]

hello! Is it okay if you write dorm leaders reaction to a heavily energetic reader please, if you don’t want to Idm ^^

of course, anon! thank you so much for requesting, i hope you like it!

dorm leaders + gn!energetic!reader

c/w: i can't write for jamil very well but i tried, leona is annoyed by you but respects you still, can you tell i can’t write for vil. malleus’s part is like 60x more romantic than the rest of the characters sorry 🤧

notes: ok so i have only completed book 3, but ive gotten plenty of spoilers about the next four books so i think i wrote for them pretty well just a heads up tho

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS find you a little hard to keep up with. He himself has his outbursts and episodes like anybody else, but that also comes with anger, so he does his best to suppress them. But you? No, you were always this way, and in a positive manner. It almost reminded him of Kalim, except that you could handle yourself and seemed to be relatively smart, seeing that you were passing your classes as a non-magical person in a magical school.

Your excitability sometimes led to you have an evident, though not purposeful, disregard for the rules. It was irksome, yes, and it took a lot of restraint from him not to lash out at you as much as he may at Ace or Deuce—he still feels guilty from his Overblot, and besides, you’re a lot easier to stand at times than compared to those two. But, overall, he still manages, opting to instead recite the rule you broke tamely, and receiving an understanding nod from you that makes him pleased. Quietly, he’ll let out this small sigh, a symbol of his appreciation for your respect of his strict ways. It isn’t easy for him to change, and while he’s trying his best, it’s nice to know he has somebody who’s willing to comply with the rules for his sake.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR somehow gets even sleepier in your presence. Just the sight of you having so much energy makes him lethargic. Why were you always so peppy? How were you always so peppy? It didn’t make any sense to him. You being this way wouldn’t be so much of an issue if you weren't so persistent. But here you were, shaking his shoulder in an attempt to wake him, and here he was, tired and annoyed and letting you drag him to his classes just to shut you up. It was like having a brighter, more talkative version of Cheka that actually knew what made him tick. It was irritating, but if he really hated it so much, why'd he always comply and go along with you? He'd never admit it, not in a million years, but he has this respect for you after all you've done for NRC, so he finds it best to give into your wishes, no matter how childish you seem. Because he knows that you aren't. He's seen it play out with every single Overblot. You're a lot more clever than you look, Herbivore, and he gives credit where credit is due.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO has to deal with Floyd on the daily, so it's not like this is anything new to him. If anything, it's better, considering your energy doesn't take the form of violence, like a certain Leech twin. At first, Azul did mistakenly assume your energy to be included with stupidity, which was a grave error on his part, when he discovered your scheme to destroy his contracts. In fact, he really thought you to be dumb enough to forget to even drink the water breathing potion before you went underwater to the museum. He was harshly incorrect, however, and so now he deals with the price of having to put up with your bounciness. You visit the Mostro Lounge quite often, helping out for an extra profit where you could and checking up on Azul, despite his protests against it. He's internally thankful, somewhere deep down, but it makes him embarrassed to admit it.

JAMIL VIPER is tired of this treatment. What did he ever do to deserve this? Is this punishment for his ill thoughts toward Kalim he's harbored for so many years? Why'd a Kalim Part Two have to come along? And hang around the Scarabia dorm so much? He was tired, over it, and so done with this crap. At the very least, you're not irredeemably dumb, and you're able to handle and care for yourself. You've made that quite evident from your life in Ramshackle to the way you've dealt with numerous overblots. He's surprised someone of your.. nature.. could be so responsible. So, as a minor thanks for not being completely stupid, he does his very best to.. avoid you. Why? Well, because even though you're tolerable, he'd prefer to not have a complete outburst of anger at you, fueled by Kalim's irresponsibility and the two of your energetic natures combined. So, consider this a favor. He's trying to be considerate, let him do what he needs to do.

VIL SCHOENHEIT is intrigued, not annoyed, but not overjoyed, either. Epel’s a handful already, so now that he’s taking on yet another project, he’d prefer it if you were a little more compliant than the purple haired first year. He understood it felt difficult to sit still for a while, but just try for him, okay? Otherwise he finds it rather endearing. He thinks it’s cute, the way you get excited to see him all the time. It’s flattering, definitely. He just wishes you'd sit still while he paints your nails, potato.

IDIA SHROUD is overwhelmed please leave him alone why are you so wild god help him. He’s already constantly afraid of Kalim and Cater jumping him, now he’s gotta worry about another secret THIRD threat? this is NOT fun he NEVER should have exited his room WHY did he let Ortho drag him around today. You kind of scare him into attending classes. Though he guesses (?) he’s appreciative of having another person who seems so enthusiastic about games like he is. But please don’t scare him like that or else he WILL be going into conniptions.

MALLEUS DRACONIA finds it interesting, adorable and very fascinating. He’d adore you regardless of what you were like, but this is just so endearing to him. It’s one thing that people seem to get iffy around him, whether that be out of respect or fear or both. But you don’t seem to be overly respectful of him, nor afraid. It might seem like a death wish to most, but in your case? You were too enthralled with the current task of running up to him excitedly every time you saw him to even give it any thought. And that is what he appreciates and desires so much out of you. It brings a smile to his lips every time you bound outside of Ramshackle at night to walk with him, or when you have this big grin on your face as you talk about something that interests you. He couldn’t ask for it any other way, really.

[alastors-antlers]

Why Alastor is good aroace rep after all, written by an aroace

Hello all! I just want to start off this post by saying that I'm one person who definitely doesn't speak for all aroaces, but I wanted to make a post on this anyway, and maybe some folk would be interested in hearing out another perspective?

I'm not really caught up on everything that's been said over the course of HH's creation - only more recent interviews, since I'm pretty new to the fandom. Apologies if I've missed anything, but also I do not have the time to keep up with all the out-of-canon-material backstory unfortunately. I'm working with what we've got here.

So here's the thing:

Alastor is cruel, he's narcissistic, he doesn't care about anyone except himself, he's a serial killer and a monster.

(That's the argument I've heard - please tell me if that's not really what people are going for lol, in which case I've totally misunderstood?)

The issue with aroace rep when it paints asexual people with those traits is that it aims to dehumanizes them. Sex and love are essential to the human experience, right? So why wouldn't someone be interested? Because they're self-absorbed, and cold, and detached. They don't have the capacity to love others enough to feel romance.

And sure, Alastor is a killer, and a schemer, and prideful, and a monster by hell's standards. But no matter how above it all and stylish and in control and provocative he wants to be, he's a very human character, and his aroace-ness never serves to add to his alienation. You could even say that it makes him seem even more personable.

That's what I think is the key difference.

why he's human

Alastor's whole persona is about control, and he basically straight-up says this. He's controlling what his enemies know, what his public image is like. His goal is to be the Radio Demon -- overlord of Hell, charismatic, Machiavellian, and undefeatable. He's not. Despite that smile plastered over his face (a powerful tool, huh) he's so expressive for someone who's constantly pretending.

You see his exasperation with the Egg Bois and with Charlie's ranting; his nervousness in front of Zestial; his frustration with Lucifer and the petty lengths he goes to to piss off the ruler of Hell.

You see his desperation, making that deal with Charlie. He's surprised by the idea of being vulnerable in front of an enemy like Adam, and so close to danger. He drops the radio filter and the affect out of fear, and runs on broadcast TV to let out panic and anger and bitterness in his hideout, where no one else can see him.

He has a smile that tells us he's genuinely happy to see someone; it's a little wider than his default. You see it with Mimzy's greeting, you see it with Rosie. Rosie, especially, serves to make Alastor more human to the audience. More on this later, but for now, I'm just saying that you can see that he at least seems to respect her greatly. Whatever bond they have, we know that he trusts her to touch him, to share history with him, and with support that he trusts no one else for.

He pretends, but he can't pretend it all away. Loads of these emotions aren't even advantageous for him to show. It isn't necessarily how the typical asexual psychopath acts; he's not emotionless or only capable of anger or brutality.

He's so full of emotion that it leaks through, despite all that he does to avoid it. He's not inhuman and aloof, not really - he's so, so human, even when he tries not to be because he thinks that'll be what keeps him above all the rest. In control, and free from his chains.

(If anyone wants to see images about all this, I'll make a separate post - just let me know.)

(I also have another post, talking about why Alastor is at least a little attached to the hotel's residents too, shown via conversation with Niffty. In what way? different question.)

how the aroace part contributes to that

Now, to be fair, we don't hear much about his aroaceness in canon. It's just not relevant a lot of the time.

In the pilot, Angel's proposition ruffles his feathers so much that Alastor blanks for a moment. It's a joke, sure, but that ace panic face is a pretty popular Alastor moment in the fandom - Alastor, thrown off-balance by a sex joke of all things, after so many years in Hell that he should probably be used to this.

It's a moment that makes him more approachable; his aroaceness shows him unprepared for something someone else does for one of the only real moments in the whole episode.

And the other part: the ace in the hole statement.

Rosie apparently knows Alastor so well that she read that he's aroace. That tells us about their relationship; namely, that it is long-standing and genuine enough that she gleaned a piece of real information from him. It's a casual fact that she knows about him before he even figured it out himself. It lends legitimacy to their bond - this bond that shows us a more comfortable and warm side of Alastor that we don't often see.

If their relationship is purely business, isn't this something pretty frivolous and personal? It's not like he has anything to gain by telling her about his life, but she learned about it somehow. How close are they? That's where it adds a layer of complexity and personality to his character..

thoughts on representation

Overall, Alastor's an interesting character who has a level of depth and care and personality (outside of cruelty) that asexual psychopath tropes lack. Again, the moments where he's being represented as disinterested in sex or romance don't make him seem detached. Again, they don't say "look how hostile toward relationships his behaviour is - how separate he is from our humanity". That's what bad villain ace rep is. That's not what the show's doing.

Also: I'm not saying that we need to lower our standards or anything, but even if you think it's not the best rep, I feel like we should be supporting HH's efforts here. I know that on Tumblr we have a pretty queer-friendly space going, which is honestly an understatement lol but

Aces are incredibly underrepresented in fiction. There's a whole Wikipedia page about asexual characters in media, and it's short as all hell, and even if you consider what's on there you see quite a number of one-off characters who are never mentioned again.

In terms of real life business - before the DSM updated their definition of hypoactive sexual desire disorder (HSDD) in 2013, identifying as asexual wasn't even a recognized thing. If you talked to a clinician about your lack of sexual desire, you could be diagnosed with a disorder. Only in the 5th edition do we now have a little exclusion footnote about it.

The concept of asexuality hasn't been explored nearly as much as other queer identities in our scientific research. We get crumbs in terms of mainstream representation and understanding. House M.D. has an episode where House "disproves" us because he's just so smart.

Alastor isn't going to be perfect representation. There's no such thing as perfect representation, and from the moment he was conceptualized, you could see how people would take him poorly. Still, I think he's a net positive.

He isn't a side character or a token ace - he's a core part of the show, whose personality and character motivations we can reasonably presume are going to be explored much more deeply in upcoming season(s). He's loved by the fandom. Right now, given what we know, I trust Vivziepop to write the aroace representation he deserves, because with the way I've heard the cast/directing/etc. talk about him, they're trying to do the aroace community justice, so I wish people would let up just a little on the whole "Alastor is bad rep".

Let's give him a chance, all right?

[ctheathy]

Hello, I hope you have a nice day! , I would like to request a headcanons of yandere nine x reader being kidnapped by doctor eggman

Yandere Nine w/ Darling who got kidnapped by Robotnik

Nine x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Short Concept

Author's note: You, my dear reader, are all out for the drama and I'm here for it~!

Nine/Reader [Romantic Tendencies]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Possessiveness • Nine is so traumatized omfg- • Eventual PTSD • Age regression • Overprotective behaviour • Poor mental state • Paranoia • Emotional dependency • Trust Issues • Insomnia • Violence

Pfft. If Nine wasn't already considered severely unhinged before, he most certainly will be right now. Oh how much terror the fox would feel in the pits of his stomach, the horror in his eyes, the helplessness in his heart. He most certainly would have never allowed this to even remotely come forward if he were the one to be in your presence. But... he wasn't. The whole team would have felt this immense sense of hesitance and dread to even tell him about it, having noticed his attachment and emotional bond towards you... and when the words slip from Sonic's mouth, not ready to test the nine-tailed foxes’ impatience, he cracks. And not just any regular burst of anger, he has a complete mental breakdown.

Nine will be nothing less than a ball of angst and fright at this point, something which he desperately tried to cover up with an infuriated facade, despite his evident worries from your abduction. But none of that would matter in the end, because he'd behave completely berserk one way or another. He doesn't dare rest or waste time for that matter until he can hold you in his arms again. Likely as soon as they reach The Chaos Council to try and bring you back... Nine would not hold himself back, still taken over by his violent meltdown. Instead of trying to avoid the Council's eyes and enemies that are in the way, maintaining a low profile as he'd say, he releases all of that pent up malice.

Though he'd leave many of the his robotic opponents onto the grounds ...torn to scraps by the fierce abilities of his mechanical tails, Nine would be surprisingly merciful to any living mobian for the sake of getting answers on where you're being held hostage. Because remember; although venting out some of his frustrations during the fight was equal to his hostility towards those who just so happened to be in his way, this mission is not and never will be about assassinating every enemy he comes across for the sake of just hurting them. It's all just to release you from The Chaos Council's grasp, take you back to his workshop where you rightfully belong ...bring you back to him. An objective and promise he will never allow himself to forget ever again after seeing your frightened face and body.

Even after he does get you back to the team, and he will no matter the costs or sacrifices he has to offer. But although you're back home, safe.... His paranoia will continue to linger and remain at its highest. Though the wounds you obtained through your abduction will eventually heal, his trauma of your kidnapping won't for a very long time. The side affects seemingly starts off small through your perspective, and you probably wouldn't even know how much it deep down affected him. Especially as the amber fox just seems to want to stick closeby you, seeking for comforting reassurance and some guidance to get himself back on the right track, which you more than understand and accept with open arms.

But what if I told you that he just got much, ...much more insane and delusional than you may think after you got taken away like that. It was like a newborn kitten being taken away from its mother right after birth, one whom he'd desperately cry out to and crawl after. To Nine, it wasn't just the idea of losing that happiness of having somebody to care about, but this also re-activated his defense mechanism to his past trauma.

Kill or be killed.

Nine's whole mentality practically returns to that of his younger self, almost similar to an age regression... You'd probably also notice the changes in demeanor, how he's practically almost behaving like a juvenile again. Decisions are made more so out of instinct rather than rational, logical thoughts. Which, to you, is something completely foreign and out of character for Nine.

His overprotective impulses would kick in at full force and he'd be quicker to lash out, along with his pessimistic mentality and stress being multiplied in the process, which is something his already poor mental state is absolutely not emotionally capable of handling. Even with you just not being in his eyesight can leave Nine with severe anxiety. His emotions are quicker to flow over, resulting in either anger outbursts or crying... And he practically treats you as if you were actively dying from a disease, constantly thinking of and mentioning the “what ifs”.

There would be many restless nights where he wakes up in the middle of the night, teary-eyed after a dream vision or isn't even capable of drifting off into a slumber at all. The simple thought of you ending up hurt and scarred while he wasn't there to protect you keeps his nerves excessive and senses on constant high alert. Even just the consideration in itself can leave him in a condition of hysteria for the next half hour, unable to calm himself down. These sudden exchanges of panic making you realise just how inconsistent it is, as Nine was usually known as collected, self-assured... in control of the situation. Something you'd consider the other side of the coin of how he was operating at this very moment. A complete and sudden reverse swap in his very identity.

Making you pray... that this was a crutch you could hopefully help him grow out of

[deathbxnny]

hello, gallagher aventurine and dr ratio with an asuka!reader?

(teen!reader who despite being a kid, acts grown up and wants to be seen as an adult)

As someone who absolutely LOVES Asuka (Although Rei is still my all-time favorite, and idk what that says about me lmao-) I absolutely adore this request, Anon!! So thank you so much for this ask, and I hope you'll like this!<33

Content: Platonic relationships, slight angst, older brother figures hsr men, teen reader, vague mentions of potential childhood trauma regarding reader, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》GALLAGHER

Gallagher found your rather bratty behavior quite amusing, which is why he simply played along at first. You often helped him out in the bar and it was kind of funny to see you trying to act like an adult, even going as far as ordering him around.

He knew that it was most likely all because of an underlying issue from your past, but he wasn't the type to confront you on it immideatly. Instead, he simply let you do your thing whilst making sure you were still having fun deep down.

He also makes sure to let you know that you can talk to him whenever you want to open up or just need some advice on things. He's patient and has all the time in the world for you. And even if you never open up to him, he'll make sure that your life is relatively easy anyway, so that you can still be a kid in peace.

》DR. RATIO

Both of you are awfully stubborn, and it shows whenever you two get into a daily argument over the most smallest things. He knows something is wrong with you deep down, but he also just doesn't have the patience needed whenever you tell him off again for daring to insinuate that you are indeed still just a child. And yet, as frustrated as he can get sometimes, he still tries his best to be the bigger person in the end. He is above arguing with a kid... but God do you make it hard sometimes to keep that up.

With that said, he tries to compromise with your need to feel like an adult by simply giving you much harder subject matters that are way above your grade level. And unsurprisingly to him ofcourse, this seemed to work and quell your angers.

You really just wanted to be respected as an equal to him, and so he let you work up to it, knowing you'd get there eventually.

》AVENTURINE

Similar to Gallagher, he finds your attitude rather amusing at first, although there was still some seriousness in him regarding your situation. You were hellbent on being seen as an adult, so much so that you'd talk back, get into fights and ignore all his orders just for a slither of recognition from him. You thought that all of this would make you into an adult, but alas, it just made you look more like the hurt child you were deep down.

After observing your behavior for a while, Aventurine eventually makes his move and calmly asks you why you want to be an adult so badly over a game of cards. He knew he'd be met with alot of attitude at first, but when he dug deeper, he finally figured out that you simply wanted to be taken seriously. He reassures you afterward that he never doubted your abilities, as he let's you win for the first time ever.

Alrighttttt!! I hope this was okay, Anon, and thank you again for your request!<33

[readychilledwine]

Hello. Hope u r feeling good. I was wondering if u could write something again. This one is particularly personal to me. Picture it. Reader is daughter of any one of the bat boys. If cass Or az then single dad. She has been bullied since the day she started school as a child because she has a problem when it comes to studying. As she grows it's her looks. The ic, notices her behavior is starnge. Like, snapping at small things, crying when they correct her or raise their voice. She has never told anyone because she doesn't want them to stress out and the bullies said that she was so worthless because she keeps running to her father for everything. Her dad finds out soon. U can decide the ending.

Oh my love 💜 all three of our boys got you.

Head Held High

Summary - After being born with Feyre's looks, but illyrian wings, Rhysand and Feyre's daughter faces challenges wherever she goes.

Warnings - bullying, signs of low self-worth, anger, inferred adhd or other learning issues, older brother coming in to do the older brother thing while protective dad does the dad thing

You had him wrapped around your finger the second you came into the world.

His beautiful baby girl, wide eyed and filled with curiosity and happiness.

You truly were a stunning little thing, but how couldn't you have been with parents like Rhysand and Feyre? He loved you even more for being the small version of your stunning mother. Her nose, her lips, her hair. The only piece of you that screamed you were his were those star flecked eyes.

Your childhood was filled with love and joy. With you constantly praised for your looks, for your smarts, or your imagination. Rhys and Feyre never thought anything of your wild mind. They loved it. They loved how sporadic you were, how one thing was never enough for you to stay focused on. They loved your random outlook on the world.

To Rhys, Feyre, and your significantly older brother Nyx, you were the world. They sheltered and loved you, thick and thin, protecting you from darkness and meaness at every turn.

It wasn't until you began lessons that you truly saw how unkind fae, especially those your own age could be.

You hated school and struggled to focus during lessons. You were busy, you told yourself in your little mind. Busy day dreaming of far away places, daring sword fights, a knight just like daddy or Uncle Az and Cass, mainly Uncle Az if you were honest with yourself, rescuing you from enemies.

Your grades reflected that. As did how your peers treated you.

"Silly y/n," one girl giggled when she thought you couldn't hear. "It's a good thing she's pretty, 'cause she's dumb."

"Her mommy couldn't read either. Maybe that's why."

In class the jabs were subtle enough that your teacher didn't notice, and when they did, nothing was done.

No one at home noticed either. No one noticed when you began to hide away more, when you stopped playing with your big brother after school. No one noticed when you weren't dreaming about being rescued anymore, but instead dreamed of running away.

Things did not get better when you were sent to Illyria, Uncle Cass and Aunt Nesta in tow, to begin training. You knew comments about your intelligence would be coming. You'd never expected comments about your looks, though.

"Imagine looking like your mom and trying to pass as an Illyrian."

"Her mom isn't even that pretty."

"Never said she was either."

You'd hide behind your wings constantly in public. You'd started eating alone. Stopped talking at home.

Cassian had tried asking what was wrong one night. His large hand running up and down your back as he spoke gently enough to you to shatter your aching heart a little more. "Just leave me alone!" You finally screamed at him. "I just want to be alone."

He wrote it off as homesickness, calling for Rhys and asking the High Lord to come visit you.

Rhys noticed it then.

He noticed the way you tucked behind your wings in shame. He noticed you eating alone. He noticed you never had a training partner.

He noticed your loveliness.

"Darling," a soft knock came at your door. "We need to talk." You curled further into your bed, your father refusing to enter or leave without your permission.

"Little love, please," his voice was pleading with you. "Let me in. Let me help you." You felt the gentle claws on your mind and blocked him out harder.

"Y/n, please. Don't shut me out." You'd never heard his voice break like this. The Crack that indicated he was about to cry. "I know what it's like to feel like you're the outsider here. I know what being this lonely feels like and how it eats away at you."

You heard something soft hit the door. "Babygirl, please. Let me come talk to you. Let me settle any feelings you're having. Let me help you. Please don't make me force myself in."

Shadows appeared in the corner, blue reflecting in them every so often. "I have her, Rhys. I'll come get you in a second." Your father yielded then. Yielded you to the arms of the Shadowsinger. "I've been watching for a little while." He admitted, "we've been worried for a few weeks."

He sat down on the bed next to you. "You stopped writing all of us. I know I violated your privacy and independence, but we all know how being out here can be. We all knew there was a risk of you being targeted the way we all were and the way Nyx was."

Azriel placed a hand on your back, rubbing small circles. "Your dad is the most worried. He did not want to send you here. He wants to bring you home."

You sniffled hard, finally lifting your body and shifting to sit next to him. "It's not any better there. I'm stupid in Velaris. I'm ugly here."

Azriel's jaw tightened. "Let me go get Rhys." Your uncle stood, walking to the doorway and leaving it open as he spoke softly down the hall.

Your dad was a mess when he entered. His hair was sticking different directions from how frequently he was running his hands through it. His face was tear stained. His shoulder slumped in defeat as he practically dragged his feet.

Azriel motioned for him to sit next to you, shutting the door so the three of you were alone and pulling a chair from across the room to sit in front of you. "Tell him what you just told me, little bat."

Your breath hitched as your hands began to shake. You could feel your eyes watering as you looked down to your unkept nails. "Taking me home won't make a difference."

Your dad pulled you close to him. "It would make all the difference, darling. We'd just send you back to regular-" Azriel shook his head at his brother, silencing him.

"Tell him the rest of what you said, y/n."

"I get made fun of in Velaris for being stupid, I get made fun of here for being ugly. It wouldn't make a difference."

Your father's world shattered then and there. Azriel stood, leaving the room to allow you to time alone now that the truth was out. Silence hung in the room. Interrupted every so often by your soft sniffles.

"How long," your father's voice broke again. "How long have you been getting picked on?"

You shrugged. "Since you started sending me to lessons."

He nodded, looking up. "I'm sorry I didn't notice, darling."

You didn't respond, only holding yourself tighter. He started. "I learned around your age, that holding my head high and not letting others see how much their cruelty hurt me tended to lead to it ending, but There is no merit in either of those statements"

He pulled you close to him, resting your head on his shoulder. "Are you easily distracted in school? Yes. Uncle Lucien always pushed us to teach you outdoors in a less formal environment with private help. You would have thrived in that setting. That is on me, y/n. I picked a public lesson setting so you could socialize." He paused. His jaw twitching. "You are not stupid in any sense, though, y/n." He motioned to the countless books stacked on your dresser. "Those are all educational texts or intense world building fantasies that you have taken the time to notate in a color system with separate journals filled with notes. That is not the action of someone who is stupid."

He tilted your face to him. "And you are not ugly. There is not a single court or location in this world where you do not meet or exceed their beauty standards. Anyone who says otherwise is either in denial of their attraction to you or blind. I never want to hear you say you are ugly ever again, darling."

A loud slam interrupted the heartfelt talk as your other brother entered the room followed by your cousins. "This is nice and all pops, really it is. Touching." Nyx walked to you, getting on his knees in front of you. "Their names, sis."

Rhys hid his smirk. "I never said your uncles and I weren't also going to do this, Nyx."

The heir rolled his eyes. "You can have their piece of shit fathers. I get the ones my age." Nyx grabbed your chin forcing you to look into his eyes. "Their names, y/n."

You gave them to him without hesitation. "Be nice," you said softly.

Nyx froze in the doorway. "You have mom's heart, y/n. I have dad's. You handle it with kindness and grace, I'm going to handle it with my fists and intimidation."

Your father pulled you close to him again. "Never change anything about you, little love." He stood moving in front of you and tilting your head up by your chin. "Just hold your head high, y/n. Hold your head high, walk away, and let dad and Nyx take care of the rest." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "Now, if you excuse me, I have a camp leader to beat the shit out of."

He paused at the doorway, turning to you. "I'll be right back. I promise. Maybe you could make us some hot chocolate and we can have a cuddle date like we used to?"

Your eyes lit up for the first time in years, making him smile and laugh. "There you are, darling. My beautiful girl."

[luveline]

Congrats on 40k Jade! Also hi, I hope you're having a great day (I'm really nervous this is my first time sending in a request I'm so sorry if I sound weird)

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐨𝐤 —send me a hurt/comfort request for any reader and any character and I'll write a ficlet, 2k or less

Can I request a reader that has a bit of a temper and got told that no one would like her because of it so she's a bit insecure about herself? My favourite character is James so maybe with him or with Remus whichever you prefer (and they reassure her and it's awesome because your writing is just so awesome)

Congrats again <3

luveline's 40k party ☆ thank you so much, you didn't sound weird at all dw ♡ fem!reader

The day has been long, your feet dragging up the steps to Remus' flat. His door sticks and the only radiator that doesn't need bleeding is the one in his bedroom, so it's cold, and you're irked. You kick out of your pinching shoes and hang your jacket up, which falls on the floor. You pick it up and it falls again. Huffing, you put it on the sideboard and trudge down the hallway to Remus bedroom. 

"Hello, my lovely," he says without looking up. 

There's a notebook in his lap. He's wearing his reading glasses. If you were in a better mood you'd try to distract him by laying across his thighs. As it stands, you're fucking exhausted. You flop down in his bed and curl towards him where he's sitting against the headboard. 

"Tired?" he asks. 

"Mm." Tired isn't the right word, but the right word makes people cringe at you. 

Today has been awful and you hate the part of you that wants to rail about it. You can't help how you feel; this anger glows molten. It makes you hate yourself, which irks you worse. You grab one of his pillows and pull it against your chest to squeeze it until your arms hurt. 

"Bad day?" he asks, pen scratching.

You exhale. "A bit," you say into the pillowcase. 

"Sorry, dovey," he says. There's the sound of paper leaves catching against one another and the clink of a pen put away. "What did you say? I needed to finish writing that edit down before I forgot."

You're not mad at him in particular but your voice comes out tightly strung anyhow, "I said it was a bit of a bad day."

Remus hears your tone and refuses to skirt around the issue. Not from a want to be confrontational, but a direct way of going about things. "What, are you mad at me?" 

"No," you say, turning away from him. 

"You seem mad." 

"I think I am." 

"Well, now you don't sound mad," he says, dipping down to talk into the back of your neck. "Now you sound upset. Have I upset you?" 

"No, Remus," you say. Mad to sad to mad again, your shoulder and spine ache with rigidity. 

All his questions didn't make you mad, but you were mad to begin with, and so what might usually be very normal turns to irritating. In the moment, you've no hope of controlling it, and, not wanting to further subject Remus to any misdirected annoyance, you shuffle out of his reach. "I just need a minute," you say. 

Remus is used to your temper, though you often worry he'll grow tired of you and your big moods and throw in the towel. You count useless numbers in your head and curl your fists into balls until your bones feel like they're too big for your skin, wanting to deal with it alone. 

A minute or two later and Remus reaches for your side. "I was trying to lighten the mood, and it wasn't my best work," he says, tip of his thumb drawing semi circles into your shirt. 

Remus taking the blame for your emotions has you frowning, rabbit-holing into twisting thoughts. He's always been good for you and good to you, accepting of your short fuse. He's not always sunshine and lollipops himself. But, he's not angry half as often as you are. Does that bother him? People have said to you before that your temper will be the ruining of a good thing, that Remus won't want to deal with it. And it makes sense. 

You don't want to deal with it either. You don't really feel like you have much choice when it comes to being mad. 

"Sorry," you mumble. 

Mattress springs groan as he leverages himself closer to you. Familiar, his hand sneaks under your shirt to tickle the soft roll of your stomach. He draws a slow and winding line with no end nor goal in mind, uncaring of the pouch you get laying down. Remus doesn't really care about anything that could be marked superficial. It's one of the many reasons that he's markedly the best person you know; he loves everything that you hate about yourself without hesitation. Like your anger. 

"Do you want to set a rule?" he asks. 

"Pardon?"

"Humour me. Let's make a condition before we have this conversation." Remus stops drawing to slide his hand between your hip and the mattress, hugging you to him. "I'll assume you're not mad at me even if you sound angry, and you can assume I don't mind." 

"Do you mind?" you ask. 

"Well, I don't love when you're angry, but I know it isn't at me so it won't matter." 

Reassured enough to face him, you meet his eyes. 

"I know I have a tendency to make it sound like I'm angry at you when I'm really mad at someone else," you say. 

"That's not true. And I ask, don't I? If I think you're mad at me?" Remus' already dulcet voice drops to a murmur, words said slowly and with as much care as a person can put into words alone, "I don't know why you feel like you're such a bad person for being angry." 

"Because it's all the time," you say. Your throat burns with the effort that it takes to stay intelligible. 

"It's not all the time." 

"It's often, and it's not fair to you." 

"It's not fair to take it out on other people, and I promise you I'd let you know if you were doing that. So… could you just tell me why you're mad? Without worrying I'll take it personally." 

"It's not about taking it personally, I don't want you to take it personally, but it's just– it's just ugly, isn't it?" 

Remus frowns. "Honestly? I don't think so. You have to be angry sometimes. Everyone gets angry and those feelings need somewhere to go, or it'll eat you up inside and make you bitter instead. Like… okay, he'll forgive me for telling you this, but Sirius used to get into these awful angry tirades where he'd shout at nothing, you know? And I hated seeing him do it, but I wasn't sitting there thinking he was ugly for it. I just kind of hated that something was able to occupy him so heavily. And that's how I feel about it when it happens to you, dove." 

"He used to?" you ask, the bridge of your nose flat to his knee. 

"Yeah, he did." Remus pushes your shoulder flat to the bed beneath you and leans in to give you a kiss. The corner of your mouth takes the brunt of it. 

"Did you kiss him like this, or–" 

Remus laughs and hugs you, "A discussion for another day," he murmurs. He gives you a last kiss and squeeze and then sits up. "So shout at me." 

"I don't want to shout at you." 

"You know what I mean. Tell me what pissed you off today." 

"Are you sure?" you ask. 

"Yeah, I'm sure, I like the way your eyes look anyways, when you get riled up." Remus finds your hand to hold. "Tell me, dove. I'll be angry with you."

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hello! I have seen this question debated many times and I wanted to know your take on it cause I find your theories very compelling. Do you think harry should've been in Slytherin? Does he have what it "takes" to be a Slytherin? Is it because of voldemort's soul in him that lead the sorting hat to even suggest he could be in Slytherin? I know this is not one question but I would like to know your opinion on this topic in general!

First of all, thank you for the kind words! 😊

As for the questions, well, you've asked more than one question, but this ask kinda gives me a good reason to talk about how Harry isn't some golden Gryffindor. He actually has some anger issues and he most definitely has what it "takes" for Slytherin.

I'll start with the last question and then go backward, actually.

Did the hat consider Slytherin house just because of the Horcrux?

I don't think so.

I mean, Harry is incredibly clever, magically powerful, and has a cunning streak a mile wide all on his own. I'd actually go as far as to say he's more cunning, ruthless, and resourceful than many of the Slytherins we see in the books. So his own traits definitely are in line with a Slytherin sorting, Horcrux or no Horcrux.

We can try and discern if the Horcrux has an effect on Harry's personality then, and if its influence is seen like that. I'd say that I don't think so either.

Tom and Harry, while they have their similarities, are very different people. They both have a bad temper (although they react to anger differently), but Harry has low self-esteem whereas Tom thinks he is the best (while still hating himself). They're both stubborn, but Tom is much more obsessive than Harry in pursuit of his goals. Harry cares for justice and isn't willing to hurt innocents, Tom doesn't really care about any of that he cares for efficiency. If the Horcrux was influencing Harry's personality, I'd expect to see more similarities between them that go deeper than that.

So, I don't think the hat only offered Slytherin because of the Horcrux. Harry is a Slytherin in his own right.

Does Harry have what it "takes" for Slytherin?

So, I honestly got really excited at the sight of this sentence. See I love Harry, that's no secret. But one of the things I love about him is that he isn't the perfect noble hero. He can be angry, and cruel and ruthless. But he has a sense of justice, he wouldn't wish harm on someone innocent, but someone who did harm to him, or was mean to him or someone he cares for... then Harry can be terrifying when he wants to be.

So, now I'm going to go through some (I have so many more examples of this, and the examples here are mostly books 1-5 since that's what I had on hand) of my collection of quotes showing Harry Potter's vindictiveness and anger.

Harry's response to "have a good summer" at the end of his first year:

“Oh, I will,” said Harry, and they were surprised at the grin that was spreading over his face. “They don’t know we’re not allowed to use magic at home. I’m going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer.…

(PS, page 221)

This is Harry's (very justified) vindictiveness we see towards the Dursleys many times in the books. He uses the idea of magic to scare them and is gleeful at the thought of Dudley's fear. Harry is very much chill with vengeance.

“…He likes to keep in touch with me, though . . . keep up with my news . . . check if I’m happy. . . .” And, grinning broadly at the look of horror on Uncle Vernon’s face, Harry set off toward the station exit, Hedwig rattling along in front of him, for what looked like a much better summer than the last.

(PoA, page 435)

Same as above, just Sirius Black as the threat instead of magic.

Yes, thought Harry, that looked all right. There was no point putting in the dream; he didn’t want it to look as though he was too worried.

(GoF, page 25)

Harry can and does lie and conceal information, even from people he trusts (like Sirius) if he thinks it'll be better not to tell them something. Whether that is for his own image or for what they would think.

“Potter! Weasley! What are you doing?” It was Professor McGonagall, and her mouth was the thinnest of thin lines. “We were — we were —” Ron stammered. “We were going to — to go and see —” “Hermione,” said Harry. Ron and Professor McGonagall both looked at him. “We haven’t seen her for ages, Professor,” Harry went on hurriedly, treading on Ron’s foot, “and we thought we’d sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and, er, not to worry —” Professor McGonagall was still staring at him, and for a moment, Harry thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice. “Of course,” she said, and Harry, amazed, saw a tear glistening in her beady eye.

(CoS, page 259)

And he clearly can lie well, even at 12.

But Harry wasn’t going to stand for this. Gone were the days when he had been forced to take every single one of the Dursleys’ stupid rules. He wasn’t following Dudley’s diet, and he wasn’t going to let Uncle Vernon stop him from going to the Quidditch World Cup, not if he could help it. Harry took a deep, steadying breath and then said, “Okay, I can’t see the World Cup. Can I go now, then? Only I’ve got a letter to Sirius I want to finish. You know — my godfather.” He had done it. He had said the magic words. Now he watched the purple recede blotchily from Uncle Vernon’s face, making it look like badly mixed black currant ice cream.

...

He stopped there to enjoy the effect of these words. He could almost see the cogs working under Uncle Vernon’s thick, dark, neatly parted hair. If he tried to stop Harry writing to Sirius, Sirius would think Harry was being mistreated. If he told Harry he couldn’t go to the Quidditch World Cup, Harry would write and tell Sirius, who would know Harry was being mistreated. There was only one thing for Uncle Vernon to do. Harry could see the conclusion forming in his uncle’s mind as though the great mustached face were transparent. Harry tried not to smile, to keep his own face as blank as possible. And then — “Well, all right then. You can go to this ruddy . . . this stupid . . . this World Cup thing.

(GoF, page 33)

Again, vindictiveness and manipulation of Vernon through fear. Not only that, but Harry can keep his calm and keep his face blank even at 14 for the sake of getting something he wants.

“Get stuffed, Malfoy,” said Harry. “C’mon, Ron. . . .” “Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren’t you, Potter?” sneered Malfoy. “So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?” “You know your mother, Malfoy?” said Harry — both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron’s robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy — “that expression she’s got, like she’s got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?” Malfoy’s pale face went slightly pink. “Don’t you dare insult my mother, Potter.” “Keep your fat mouth shut, then,” said Harry, turning away.

(GoF, page 204)

Harry has a bark (all of the above quotes are Harry having a bark). He can and does shoot back as good as he gets.

Harry isn't all bark though, he's got a bit. Harry's anger is palpable and so very real and I love seeing it:

just as Uncle Vernon burst out of the dining room, his trouser leg in bloody tatters. “COME BACK IN HERE!” he bellowed. “COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!” But a reckless rage had come over Harry. He kicked his trunk open, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon. “She deserved it,” Harry said, breathing very fast. “She deserved what she got. You keep away from me.”  He fumbled behind him for the latch on the door. “I’m going,” Harry said. “I’ve had enough.”

(PoA, page 30)

Again, Harry has his vindictive strike. (Obviously, Marge had it coming, but that's also what Harry is thinking).

A boiling hate erupted in Harry’s chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in his life, he wanted his wand back in his hand, not to defend himself, but to attack . . . to kill.

(PoA, page 339)

“You killed my parents,” said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady.

(PoA, page 341)

Harry, at 13, was fully willing to kill who he believed led to his parents' deaths. And more:

So what if he had to kill the cat too? It was in league with Black. . . . If it was prepared to die, trying to protect Black, that wasn’t Harry’s business. . . .

(PoA, page 342)

He's willing to kill Hermione's cat if it stands in his way.

Harry stood there, feeling suddenly empty. He hadn’t done it. His nerve had failed him. Black was going to be handed back to the dementors.

(PoA, page 343)

Harry Potter, at 13, laments that he didn't have the nerve to kill Sirius himself. He thinks he should've killed himself. He sees it as a failure that justice would be served by someone other than him.

Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him. . . . If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse . . . he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching. . . .

(GoF, page 300)

Harry felt oddly separate from everyone around him, whether they were wishing him good luck or hissing “We’ll have a box of tissues ready, Potter ” as he passed. It was a state of nervousness so advanced that he wondered whether he mightn’t just lose his head when they tried to lead him out to his dragon, and start trying to curse everyone in sight.

(GoF, page 347)

The above quotes are both situations Harry was willing and wishing to curse people. Even Crucio Snape. He's not as noble and righteous and golden as many fans and characters in the books make him out to be...

If Dudley’s friends saw him sitting here, they would be sure to make a beeline for him, and what would Dudley do then? He wouldn’t want to lose face in front of the gang, but he’d be terrified of provoking Harry. . . . It would be really fun to watch Dudley’s dilemma; to taunt him, watch him, with him powerless to respond . . . and if any of the others tried hitting Harry, Harry was ready — he had his wand . . . let them try . . . He’d love to vent some of his frustration on the boys who had once made his life hell —

(OotP, page 11)

And sometimes, Harry wishes for an excuse to fight. An excuse to take his anger out on someone. (He has a lot of anger in him)

Smirking all over his pointed face, Draco Malfoy leaned across Harry and seized the largest bowtruckle. “Maybe,” said Malfoy in an undertone, so that only Harry could hear him, “the stupid great oaf’s got himself badly injured.” “Maybe you will if you don’t shut up,” said Harry out of the side of his mouth.

(OotP, page 260)

He's threatening and witty.

“Oh no,” said Hermione, quaking so badly that her knees gave way. “Oh, that was horrible. And he [Gwamp] might kill them [the centaurs] all. . . .” “I’m not that fussed, to be honest,” said Harry bitterly.

(OotP, page 759)

And when it comes to people he doesn't consider innocent, or ones he doesn't care for, even if they never harmed him, Harry is still vindictive. The centaurs mistreated Firenze and Hagrid, so Harry doesn't really care if Gwamp kills them all.

That being said, he is more concerned about Sirius in the above scene.

And he can and does cast unforgivables easily by the later books:

Hatred rose in Harry such as he had never known before. He flung himself out from behind the fountain and bellowed “Crucio!” Bellatrix screamed. The spell had knocked her off her feet, but she did not writhe and shriek with pain as Neville had — she was already on her feet again, breathless, no longer laughing. Harry dodged behind the golden fountain again — her counterspell hit the head of the handsome wizard, which was blown off and landed twenty feet away, gouging long scratches into the wooden floor.

(OotP, page 809)

Harry raised the hawthorn wand beneath the cloak, pointed it at the old goblin, and whispered, for the first time in his life, “Imperio!” A curious sensation shot down Harry’s arm, a feeling of tingling, warmth that seemed to flow from his mind, down the sinews and veins connecting him to the wand and the curse it had just cast. The goblin took Bellatrix’s wand, examined it closely, and then said, “Ah, you have had a new wand made, Madam Lestrange!”

(DH, pages 152-453)

As Amycus spun around, Harry shouted, “Crucio!” The Death Eater was lifted off his feet. He writhed through the air like a drowning man, thrashing and howling in pain, and then, with a crunch and a shattering of glass, he smashed into the front of a bookcase and crumpled, insensible, to the floor. “I see what Bellatrix meant,” said Harry, the blood thundering through his brain, “you need to really mean it.”

(DH, page 502)

So, I think Harry definitely has what it takes. He's clever, he can be ruthless, and he's capable of lying and hiding secrets when he feels it's the best option. He can hide his emotions when he really needs to, even if he rarely does. Actually, only in book 6, Harry starts sharing everything with Ron and Hermione on Dumbledore’s advice. Up to that point, he kept quite a bit to himself. And when someone wrongs him, he can and often will swing back.

And last but not least, should he have been in Slytherin?

So, this is an interesting question, because "should" can have two meanings.

1. Should've for the story — as in what is best for the narrative.

2. Should've for the character — in universe, which house the sorting hat should've picked.

So, for the first one, my answer is no. Gryffindor was the right choice for Harry for the narrative of the books as they are. Gryffindor is essentially the opposite of Slytherin and represents a choice more than just the traits and values the house represents. It represents Harry's choice even though he could've been a Slytherin he chose Gryffindor. And it's a constant choice with every heroic act. (personally, I'm not the biggest fan of equating school houses with morality, but it's effective in creating a clear narrative)

And while not all Slytherins are evil and not all Gryffindors are good, a Slytherin Harry Potter would've resulted in a very different story than what we have. So, for the story we ended up getting to happen the way it did, yes, Harry needed to be a Gryffindor.

For the second, maybe. Personally, I believe people (even if they aren't hatstalls) have more than one house they can fit into. Harry is both a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, and neither of them is more wrong or right for him as a person. I think deciding which one of them is best for him is up to a coin flip (and when in his life the question is asked).

He can be ruthless and cunning like a Slytherin. Selfless and courageous like a Gryffindor. He values justice like a Gryffindor. But he also has the selective loyalty of Slytherin to their own.

Point is, there isn't really a "should", because both suit him and he would’ve done well in both. Do I think Slytherin Harry is an incredibly fun concept to consider? Yes. Did I read way too many fics with this premise and would read more? Yes. Do I think he might've fit into Slytherin better than Gryffindor? Well, not necessarily.

Harry is much quieter than most in Gryffindor, but I think the constant scheming and image-keeping in Slytherin would be exhausting to him. He just doesn't care about all the gossip and politicalizing (something that occasionally leaves him out of the loop also in Gryffindor). So, again, both suit him about equally. The difference is that we get a very different story depending on his house.

[springseasonie]

Hello!! I would like to request a ten smut, he is ur husband, and both of y’all get in an argument, and you basically make up! 😃😊

Too Nice (M)

Warnings: sexual content, oral (male receiving), impact play (face smacking), asphyxiation (just a tad)

Word count: 1,8k

A/N: please don't hate me for finally posting this months later I hope you like it <3

You walked into your house, kicking off your heels in frustration as soon as you got into the door. Thankfully your kids were staying at your sister's, so they wouldn't have to hear the argument that was about to happen with your husband. 

"So much for be fucking civil," you mumbled to yourself, throwing your clutch on the couch. 

"Please don't tell me you're still upset about that," Ten groaned, taking his suit jacket off. He threw the fabric on the coat rack, loosening his tie to get more comfortable. "I thought you dropped it at the party." 

"Why would I have dropped it," you snapped, turning to him.

Ten was a bit surprised by how angry you were. It's not a surprise that you're the possessive one in the relationship, he's known this for the 6 years you've been together, but he's never seen you this angry. Although he wanted to pretend he doesn't know what set you off, he does know. And he knows that he's partly at fault for it, but he was just being nice. 

"Y/N, we've talked about this. You can't let small things like this upset you," he said, trying to calm you down. 

But to you, it didn't feel like he was trying to calm you, it came off condescending. You had anger issues. Anyone who knew you for even a week could tell you this. You've worked on them for a while, and thankfully for you, you met someone who was willing to help you work through it. But even though he was your source of peace, he was also your source of chaos. Your husband is a nice guy and that's why you liked him. But now you've been married for 4 years and he's still a nice guy, too nice. You've told him he's too nice.

"It wasn't small. She flirted with you in front of me and then proceeded to ask if she could buy you a drink," you said angrily. "You let her buy you a drink, Ten."

"I thought she was being nice, Y/N. I didn't want to hurt her feelings. It was just one drink," he argued. 

"Yeah just one drink in front of all your other colleagues and your wife," you whined frustrated. "All I ask is for you to stop being so nice."

Ten walked up to you slowly, bangs falling in his eyes with a small smile. He wrapped his arms around you, clasping his hands behind the small of your back. He looked at you with gentle soft eyes, taking in your features silently. You were really his soulmate. He loved everything about you including the moments when you were angry with him. 

"You looked good tonight," he said, smiling as you rolled your eyes. 

"You can't compliment your way out of this Ten." 

"No, but I think I can kiss my way out." He leaned in, planting a soft kiss on your lips. He placed his hands on your hips, fingers playing with the sequence in your dress. No matter how upset you were with him, he always found a way to pull you back in. He was your weakness and you knew that. 

He pulled away, chuckling softly when you chased his lips. "You want more?" 

"Don't be a dick," you whined.

Ten kissed you again, this time deeper. His lips moved slowly on yours, the tension making your stomach erupt in butterflies. You placed your hands on his shoulders, pulling his body closer to yours. Soon enough, the slow kisses turned into a makeout, a heavy one at that. You and Ten stood there, tongues tangling in a sensual fashion. He moved his hands back to your back side, taking the zipper in his fingers. 

You smile as you feel him unzip your dress, giggling on his lips. Ten bit your lip softly, feeling your fingers begin to unbutton his shirt. You pulled away from him, resting your forehead on his as you watched your hand travel down his body, fingers brushing against his bulge. 

“Fuck I need you,” you whispered, hands wrapping around his clothed cock. “Between the kids and work… I need you really bad.” 

“Yeah?” His nose brushed against yours when he looked down, watching you undo his belt. 

You nod, unbuttoning and zipping his slacks. You swallow hard, yanking the perfectly tailored fabric to the ground. 

“You couldn't even make it to the room,” he mumbled, eyes following your body as you dropped to the ground. One thing Ten loved about you besides your amazing personality is your love for giving head. You loved it, the feeling of being on your knees, him being above you looking at you with those pretty eyes of his. 

“My pretty girl just wants to take care of me, isn't that right,” he says, hands stroking your hair softly. 

“Mhm.” You pulled his underwear down, the fabric quickly looking at his ankles. He's so big and hard, tip pink and ready for you. Your husband watched you take his cock in your hands, hungry eyes staring up at him as you kissed his tip softly. 

A relaxed sigh left his lips when you licked his tip softly, lips wrapping around sucking it softly. 

“C'mon baby, don't tease,” he says, sly smirk on his face. 

“It's what you get for being nice to that woman,” you mumbled, slowly licking up his cock. Ten watched you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out finally sinking onto his cock. You bobbed your head slowly, eyes never leaving his. 

“Jealous but still sucking me off,” he mumbled. “My kind of woman.” 

His hand kept stroking your hair softly, quietly watching you bob your head below him. He says nothing but his eyes are intense, they always are. And right now, they're telling you he's going to fuck you until you pass out, which you desperately need. 

Ten movements on your hair come to a halt, his fingers now in your scalp as he takes a firm hold of your head. “You gonna let me fuck that pretty mouth,” he asks, voice low and raspy. 

You nod, brows furrowing when he pulls your head back, forcing you to take more of him. His brows furrow when you feel you gag around him, the sudden tightness sending pleasure up his spine. You moan with every thrust, eyes now screw shut as he takes control. Your hands clench on the bottom of your dress, thighs clenched on the floor from how turned on you were. 

“Look at me,” he grunted. 

But you kept your eyes closed, every nerve in your body too on edge to even hear his words. That's when he smacked your cheek, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to catch your attention. 

“Look at me.”

You obey, your big eyes finally seeing the  monster you created after a long night of getting on his nerves. He knows how much you like to rile him up, even if you're actually angry. The way he'll always put you in your place makes you weak for him. 

“Good girl,” he groans, his thrust getting faster. He doesn't loosen his grip even when you whine loudly. 

“My pretty wife loves to rile me up,” he grunts. “Loves to suck me off, fill her mouth with my cock.”

He starts to thrust into your mouth harder, his lips curling into a smirk watching your tears and drool ruin your makeup. You look so pretty with mascara running down your face, lipstick smeared all over your mouth, messy hair. It's making him hornier by the second, his dick almost about to explode with every second he looks at you. 

“Fuck I'm gonna cum,” he moans breathlessly. “Want me to cum in your mouth, hm? Want to milk my cock with your mouth?” 

Even though he had a strong grip on your head, you managed to nod around his dick. The vibrations of your voice sent chills up his spine, brows furrowing as his jaw dropped watching you below him. The sounds of him fucking your throat, his groans and moans filling the room, the smell of sex in the air- you needed more. 

Just when you thought he was almost done, Ten pinches your nose with his opposite hand, cutting off the only air flow you have for just a second. You couldn't help but screw your eyes shut, the sudden lack of airflow sending your body into panic. But you were so turned on by it, your stomach was in a thousand knots, thong drowning in your juices by now. 

“You like this don't you,” he says, voice raspy and low. “Pretty baby looks like she's gonna cry.” 

The way he taunted you only made you want him more. Ten has always been fascinated at how easily you bend to his will despite being so dominant in the relationship. He loves it. 

Ten let go of your nose, finally allowing you some air. You gag once again, staring up at him with your mascara running, brows furrowed in submission. “Fuck, make me cum baby.” He lets go of your hair, allowing you to get rid of the crook that was beginning to form in your neck from the angle. 

You took control, wrapping your hand around his shaft, jerking him fast as you pulled your mouth off his cock. His laugh and groans mixed together watching you cough and gasp for air. But you didn't keep your mouth off him for very long. The visual of spit down your chin in your pretty dress made him go crazy. Your husband let out a string of curses when you wrapped your mouth about the head of his cock, sucking him hard. 

You felt his body shiver every time you allowed your tongue to lick the slit, your big pretty eyes staring at him. All of the stimulation from your mouth and hands were quickly building, releasing almost there.

“Cum,” you whined. “Please, cum in my mouth.” You jerked him faster, thumb occasionally digging into his tip softly. 

Just the sight of you made him cum, fast and hard. You on your knees, mouth open and tongue out, waiting for him to paint you in white and he did. He came, some landing on your tongue, lips, face. You were covered in him and you loved it. 

“Fuck,” he sighed, breathing heavily. “I fucking love you.” Before you could even respond, he pulled you to your feet, kissing you roughly while his cum remained on your tongue, tasting himself. 

“Baby, please,” you said against his lips. “Fuck me, please. I wanna feel you.” 

“Can we make it to the room first,” he chuckled, kissing you deeply once again. He kept kissing you, his hands traveling all over your body. Second go by and the dress you were once wearing are now on the floor next to your heels. 

The two of you never made it to the bedroom. 

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Please write some hsc for tmnt bayverse (all of them) when during an argument a child tells them that he hates/doesn't love them

Thanks you

They Have An Argument With Your Child

Bayverse!Turtles x reader

A/N: Time to bring Romeo, Joan, Gali and Sunny back! And with that, say hello to some of their siblings; Marcello, Dorothy and Luis💙❤️💜🧡

--------------

Warnings: Family fights.

--------------

Leonardo:

Leonardo would be shaken to say the least. One thing was arguing with his own brothers, finding it hard to understand how or why they wouldn’t follow his orders, but fighting with his own children was different, and absolutely horrible.

Marcello, you and Leo’s second oldest, a teenager with a fiery spirit that mirrored his father's, had clashed with Leo over what seemed like an age-old disagreement – the issue of independence and the perceived favoritism toward his older brother, Romeo. Romeo, who was just shy of reaching his adulthood, had finally been allowed to go to the surface, without any kind of supervision. Marcello had not taken too kindly to that, believing that his father had started to favor his older brother.

An argument followed soon after, where Marcello's frustration boiled over. Harsh words were exchanged, and in a moment of anger. But all of that came to a climax, when Marcello shouted at his father, as loud as he possibly could.

"I hate you!", he yelled before storming off, leaving Leo alone in the middle of the lair.

Leo stood there, the weight of Marcello's words sinking deep into his heart. Parenting had never been easy, and juggling the safety of his family with the desire for independence his children inevitably felt was a delicate balance. The sharp sting of his son's declaration left him feeling vulnerable, questioning his decisions and even his capabilities as a father.

Unable to shake the hurt from Marcello's outburst, Leonardo retreated, seeking solace in the comforting presence of the person he felt the safest with - you.

Without a word, you sensed the turmoil in Leo's eyes and opened your arms, welcoming him into an embrace. The silence spoke volumes, and Leo, allowing himself a rare vulnerability, leaned into the warmth of your embrace, his worries momentarily eased by the love and understanding that emanated from you.

As Leonardo rested his head against your shoulder, he began to recount the events leading up to the argument with Marcello. You listened with unwavering patience, offering a sympathetic ear to his concerns. The complexities of parenting in a world filled with danger and uncertainties were not lost on you, and you knew that misunderstandings were an inevitable part of the process. Your gentle words of reassurance became a lifeline for Leo, reminding him that parenting was an ongoing journey filled with challenges. Together, you explored ways to bridge the gap between father and son, recognizing that communication and compromise were the foundations of any healthy relationship.

The next day, as Romeo headed out once more, Leo took intentional steps to mend the strained relationship with Marcello. It was time for Leo to communicate and spend time with his son, in ways that went beyond training in the dojo.

Raphael:

Raphael would get mad. He would feel anger towards his child, but in reality, it was all about him. He would get angry at himself, blaming the whole argument on how he handled it, and how he failed to calm his child down.

Your daughter Joan, now 18, had recently taken a significant step into adulthood by entering into a relationship with a human guy. But the news didn’t settle well with Raph. He found it hard to reconcile with the fact that his little girl was growing up and venturing into the complexities of human relationships. So the evening when Joan told you and your husband about her new boyfriend, the two of them quickly found themselves locked in a heated argument.

Raph, with a furrowed brow and a heart weighed down by the realization that he was losing his grip on his little girl, confronted Joan about her newfound connection with a human. His protective instincts flared, clouding his ability to see Joan as an independent and capable adult. Joan, however, had grown tired of being treated like a child, and in the heat of the argument, she raised her voice, declaring that Raph was stifling her growth and that her boyfriend, who saw her as an equal, understood her better than her own father. The words hung heavily in the air, leaving a bitter taste of regret and sorrow.

Raph's anger was palpable, his eyes narrowing as he struggled to comprehend the fact that his own daughter felt unloved by him. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut, and the weight of his own shortcomings as a father bore down on his broad shoulders.

Fuming and hurt, Raph stormed away from the confrontation, retreating to a secluded part of the lair. It was there that you found him, grappling with the storm of emotions that threatened to consume him. Your presence served as a balm to his wounded heart, and in the quiet sanctuary you shared, he laid bare his fears and frustrations. Your gentle words, woven with understanding and love, reminded Raph that parenthood was a constant journey of letting go. You encouraged him to see Joan not as a child who needed protection, but as a young woman capable of making her own choices and learning from her own mistakes.

In the days that followed, you played the role of mediator, facilitating a conversation between Raph and Joan. As emotions cooled, they began to see each other's perspectives more clearly. Raph, in a rare display of vulnerability, admitted his fears of losing his little girl, while Joan, in turn, acknowledged her father's love and concern.

The healing process was gradual, marked by moments of shared laughter and understanding. Raph began to see the strength and resilience that defined his daughter, while Joan appreciated the depth of her father's love, even if it was expressed in a way that clashed with her newfound independence.

Not long after that, Joan brought her boyfriend down to the lair, in order for him and Raph to meet each other. And much to both you and Joan’s relief, the two men got along great. Talking and a few times joking with each other, as they slowly got used to each other’s presence. But as Joan and her boyfriend left for his home, Raph started tearing up. His little girl was an adult now.

Donatello:

The lair was unusually tense as the echoes of a recent argument lingered in the air. Donatello found himself feeling stressed and frustrated, caught in a storm of emotions after an altercation with his pre-teen son, Gali.

The source of the tension was a disciplinary moment involving Gali and his younger sister, Dorothy. Gali, in a fit of teasing, had pushed Dorothy to the point of tears. Donnie, in his role as both father and protector, had grounded Gali as a consequence for his actions, while you took care of Dorothy, comforting her in the other room. But little did Donnie anticipate the storm that would follow.

As the lair's tunnels settled into an uneasy quiet, Gali, his face contorted with a mixture of anger and frustration, confronted his father. The exchange escalated quickly, with harsh words exchanged and Gali, in a moment of youthful defiance, started shouting.

"I hate you, Dad!", he yelled, before storming off to the room Donnie had told him to go to - his room.

Donatello stood there, the weight of his son's words sinking deep into his heart. The shock of hearing such words from his own child resonated, leaving him momentarily paralyzed. However, his love and commitment to being a good father quickly kicked in, prompting him to follow his son into his room.

Upon entering Gali's space, Donnie saw his son, red-eyed and visibly upset, sitting on the bed and staring at the floor. Taking a deep breath, Donnie approached Gali with a mix of determination and concern.

"Gali", he began, his voice steady. "We need to talk".

Gali, still seething with frustration, avoided eye contact but nodded begrudgingly, letting Donnie take a seat next to him. As they sat in the dimly lit room, Donnie began talking once more.

"I know you're upset, and so am I. I care about you and Dorothy deeply, and it hurts me to see you two at odds".

Gali, feeling a mix of guilt and stubbornness, finally spoke. "I just don't get it, Dad. Why do I get grounded when she's the one crying all the time? It's not fair!"

Donnie sighed, acknowledging the complexity of parenting. "Life isn't always fair, Gali. But my job is to teach you right from wrong and help you grow into a good person. Teasing your sister to the point of tears isn't okay. It's about learning to treat each other with respect".

Gali's frustration softened, replaced by a glimmer of understanding as he reached for his knees, hugging them against his chest. "But it feels like you don't trust me", he mumbled.

Donnie, realizing the importance of addressing Gali's feelings, and how this was about much more than just the episode with Dortothy, wrapped an arm around his son, holding him close before he spoke. "It's not about trust, Gali. It's about helping you make better choices. I believe in you, and I know you can learn from this. We're a team, and I want us to work together."

A thoughtful silence filled the room as Gali absorbed his father's words, his eyes still not looking at his father..

Donnie continued. "I'm here for you, even when it seems like I'm being strict. Let's find a way to bridge the gap between us, okay?"

Gali finally looked up at his father with a small smile. “Okay”, he said before he wrapped his arms around Donnie in a hug. “Thank you, dad”.

Michelangelo:

Given the nature of Michelangelo, he would get sad. But with his strong empathy, he would quickly realize what was going on, working to fix the problem in the best way possible.

The lair was filled with an unusual stillness, interrupted only by the soft coos of the newest addition to the family, Luis. The arrival of the baby boy had brought joy and excitement to the lair, but it also introduced a wave of change that affected every member, especially the energetic and ever-cheerful Michelangelo.

You and Mikey's sunny disposition had dimmed slightly as he navigated the challenges of balancing your time between caring for the newborn and ensuring that your oldest, 5 year old Sunny, felt just as cherished. Sunny, despite her name, found herself grappling with the stormy emotions of feeling overshadowed by her baby brother. She missed the days where she was all you and Mikey looked for, craving the attention she once held so easily.

One afternoon, while you were out on a rare girls night out, Mikey sat on the floor, playing peek-a-boo with baby Luis, he sensed a pair of angry little bright blue eyes fixed on him. Sunny stood at the entrance of the nursery, her small hands clenched into tiny fists. Her cherubic face contorted with a mix of frustration and sadness, she declared out loud; "You always play with Luis, and you don't play with me anymore, daddy!"

Mikey's expressive eyes widened, a pang of guilt hitting him square in the heart. He gently set Luis down in his crib, making his way over to Sunny, his voice laced with concern.

"Aw, Sunny, baby, I didn't mean to make you feel left out”, he said. “You're my sunshine, you know that, right?"

But Sunny, in her 5 year old wisdom, shook her head defiantly. "No, daddy, you don't love me anymore!", she exclaimed, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air.

Mikey, feeling a mix of hurt and determination, crouched down to her level. "Hey, little star, that's not true. I love you and Luis with all my heart”, he said, reaching out for her small hands. “How about we play together? You, me, and Luis - the ultimate superhero team!"

Sunny, her anger slowly giving way to curiosity, looked at her father with wide eyes. "Really?"

Mikey beamed, his signature grin returning. "Absolutely! You're my first little hero, and Luis is the newest member of our awesome team. What do you say we play together and show Luis the ropes?"

Sunny's face lit up with a bright smile, her grievances momentarily forgotten. "Okay, daddy!", she exclaimed, rushing forward to join the trio on the floor, while Mikey went to get little Luis from the crib.

And so, the nursery became a battleground for imaginary adventures and laughter. Mikey juggled the role of a playful father and referee between his two little ones, ensuring that both Sunny and Luis received equal attention and affection. Sunny, in turn, discovered the joy of being a big sister and basked in the warmth of her father's love.

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Hello

I would like to request a smut prompt for Sergeant Hunter. (Only if you’re up for it oc)

I had ❛ let me come in you, please. i want to fill you up. ❜ in mind. It’s fits him so well 👀

Or, if you’re in the mood for something else,

❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜

The choice is yours, cheers ^^

emerges from my cave, writes hurt/comfort instead of smut, disappears back into my cave. sorry nonnie, the smut muse didn't want to cooperate for this one

Tell Me

Summary: Hunter does his best to protect you, but feels he must prove it in more ways than one. Prompt in bold and red.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: allusions to harassment, Hunter being bad at talking about his feelings, fade to black so nothing NSFW but this blog is still 18+, first kiss, hurt/comfort vibes

You've never experienced Hunter's anger like this. He usually doesn't let his emotions get the better of him and, no matter his own issues, ensures the squad stays mostly on task. Even when hiccups interrupt the plan, he rolls with the punches. The Bad Batch has a 100% mission success rate for a reason. 

But tonight the issue is so much more than a mere hiccup. No, the creep at the cantina was far more unpleasant. 

The squad can gather intel in its sleep; any of you could've staked the cantina out alone and been successful. Hunter had insisted everyone partake. In hindsight, you're glad he pushed for it, even if you and Crosshair both grumbled aloud at Hunter's mother-hennishness. You'd strode straight into the shithole bar, determined to get what you were sent for and get out as quickly as possible. 

Then that stranger got a little too friendly. He'd invaded your personal space and put his hands on you despite your very evident discomfort, reeking of cheap alcohol and bad decisions. 

Hunter had stepped in. Well... he'd done more than that. You're not envious of the stranger and his freshly broken nose.

The sergeant, glowering and shaking his hand out, had growled at the others to stay put and finish the mission. Then he'd all but ordered you back to the ship, giving you no choice but to follow or risk his wrath as well. 

Now, back on board the Marauder, you sigh as your irritation grows, prickly and uncomfortable in your chest. "Hunter."

"What," he snaps. 

"You don't have to babysit me." Crossing your arms, you lean against the bulkhead, fixing him with an unimpressed glare. 

"I'm not—" He turns away, jaw working. Shadows play over his face, backlit by the ship's control panels. His heaving chest gives enough indication that he's mentally working through something.

Softening, you take a step toward him. "Will you at least talk to me?"

His nostrils flare as you move closer. "You— You smell him now." 

"I'm sorry?"

"S'not your fault," he says, misinterpreting your words. His shoulders slump. "It's my job to protect you- you all. And I was so close to failing tonight." 

"Hunter," you say gently, holding one hand out. 

He looks down at your outstretched palm and tentatively reaches to hook your fingertips together. Even through the coarse fabric of his blacks, his warmth scorches through you. Though his nose remains scrunched, when his eyes find yours, he seems to finally step back from the edge of anger. But the emotions continuing to shine in his eyes give you pause. 

Swallowing down the burgeoning hope in your chest forcing out the irritation, you squeeze his fingers. "I appreciate you looking out for me. I really do. But is this about protecting me? Or is this something else? I- I can shower if it's a sensory issue—"

"No," he interrupts. Adjusting his hold, his fingers twine between yours. He tugs you closer. "I mean—it won't be an issue for long. Kark, I'm goin' about this all wrong." 

The sergeant sighs, pulling you in for a hug. While you've embraced him before, surprise hums along your veins. Tentative, you wrap your arms around his middle, and tuck your face into the crook of his neck, where his own scent is strongest, a unique blend of earth and musk and sweat that makes your insides stir. He tightens his arms. 

"Not that this isn't nice," you say, voice muffled, "but what're you doing?"

He's quiet for a moment. "Making you smell like me." 

You blink. "Oh." Without meaning to, you inhale a deep breath, his warm scent swirling within your lungs. "You do smell good."

Hunter chuckles. The sound vibrates against your chest. "That right?"

Humming in affirmation, you press the bridge of your nose to his skin. His pulse beats against your nose; its pace quickens. For a heartbeat, you manage to contain the response that leaps to the tip of your tongue. Is this really the time?

But then again, you've been waiting for the right time to broach the subject of your feelings for months. You've shared a few hugs, left countless lingering looks when you think he isn't looking, chased an orgasm or two in silence when he's not around. If you keep waiting, the right time won't ever happen. And you'll be left wondering.  

Throwing caution to the wind, you say, "Be easier if you take your armor off." 

"Mesh'la," he murmurs. The endearment somehow sounds like a warning. "I- Your heart is racing. You're not thinking clearly."

Gnawing at the inside of your cheek, you resist the urge to pull away at what feels like a rejection. Have you been reading all the signs wrong? Did you misread the situation earlier? You're relatively certain any of the squad would have jumped to your defense--but would the others have needed to be physically restrained from doing more damage? Would Wrecker have had to pry Tech, or Crosshair, or Echo, away from your assailant like he'd done to Hunter?

No, you decide, you've been reading the signs correctly. Stepping out of his embrace but not his orbit, you search Hunter's gaze. Threading your fingers together once again, you raise his hand to brush your lips over the knuckles surely bruising under his gloves. Hunter's lips part in surprise. 

"I'm thinking perfectly clearly." You hesitate, then forge ahead. "Tell me you don't feel anything for me, and I'll go back to pining in silence. Tell me I'm the only one who sees something here. Tell me... Tell me you broke his face because I'm part of the squad, and no other reason. Please."

Hunter inhales a shallow breath. His eyes, gray in the dim light of the Marauder's controls, sear into yours with an unidentifiable mix of emotions. "I can't." 

Relief floods through you. With a weak smile, you gesture to yourself. "Do I still smell like him?" 

He nods. 

"Do you care for me?"

Another nod, stronger than the previous. 

"Then do something about it, Hunter." Guiding his gloved touch to your face, you lean into his warmth. 

His throat bobs when he swallows. After another moment of silent indecision, Hunter steps into your personal space, gaze searching your expression. He must not find anything worth stopping for, because his grip tightens behind your jaw. The tip of his crooked nose slides along the side of your own nose, breath puffing warm and unsteady over your face. 

You close the gap. Your mouths slot together, and it's like coming home after a long time away. Humming in the back of your throat, you press closer, deepening the kiss without hesitation. Hunter follows your lead. His armor still blocks you from truly feeling him, but you don't care. His lips are on yours, and your heart is his. 

Your name slips from his lips like a prayer. Eyes fluttering open, you peer up at him from beneath your lashes. "Yes?" 

"A-Are you sure?"

"I am."

"Then let me prove that you're mine," he murmurs. His touch lingers along your waist before drifting towards your center. "Let me prove that I take care of what belongs to me." 

A shiver skates up your spine. "Show me."

Ragu list: to be added or removed go here!

@dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations

@523rdrebel @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @deejadabbles

@starqueensthings @idontgetanysleep @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator

@sleepycreativewriter @bobaprint @dickarchivist @a-single-tulip

@thorsterstrudle @droids-you-are-looking-for @goblininawig @cw80831

@mssbridgerton @isaidonyourknees @dreamie411 @jedi-hawkins

@dangraccoon @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @9902sgirl  @zenrobbins0021

[stolasdearest]

if you do sequels, can you do one for Vox and the male!reader with anger issues?

i love that dynamic so much, and tbh, i think if you left that reader in a room alone with Valentino, they'd be at each other's throats in SECONDS. and when Vox comes in to break it up, they're totally asking him to pick sides.

poor Voxxy, having to deal with us AND Val lmao

VOX x Reader ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

I SO DO SEQUELS?? HELLO I LOVE THISSS

not proofread! Hypnosis (not on the reader) arguing, Valentino in itself is a red flag

! Val and Vox are not dating in this universe

Reader is male!

You had been chilling in the top of the Tower, on your phone just browsing on Sinstagram; legs kicked up on the table while your hand fiddled with a tassel on one of the pillows. A vein bulged in your temple as you already heard Valentinos whiny fucking voice, You didn't wanna deal with this today or him, Before getting another thought out the door burst open; Val stomping in and your boyfriend in toe, scowling on his phone

"can you BELIEVE the audacity of that Bitch! She can be so glad I didn't shoot her rancid face in!"

"uh-huh..Yeesh"

"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING?!"

"Val, I gotta go do something. Baby?"

Your head snapped up upon hearing Voxs petname, Removing your feet from the table you sat up

"yeah?"

"can you watch Val for like, 10 minutes?

"I don't need to be watche—"

"leave him with me"

Vox smiled as he nodded, blowing a kiss to you, an electric heart floating over to you as he left, hands behind his back; the door shut and Valentinos tantrum immediately continued, This time directed at you

"what do you think you're doing?! I'm not some kid— don't even act like you're better than me!"

You rolled your eyes and stood up, knowing continuing to sit would just rile him up, thinking he's above you

"vox asked a favor of me, So I'm doing it."

Valentinos eyes sharpened as he stomped over to you, towering over you. His teeth gritting seeing no fear or intimidation in your eyes

"Youre not big shit! You're just Vox's boy toy!"

"oh yeah? Say that in front of him next time, piss baby!"

This continued for minutes, Each of you getting increasingly more wound up; hands at each other's throats with curse words and insults being swung around almost every sentence, until the door slammed open with a clearly irritated Vox

"I can hear you both from the end of the corridor! What the fuck"

Vox was used to you both fighting but it usually was a one time insult to each other before one of you walked off; now you two were one wrong glance away from jumping each other

"Vox! Let your little bitch to get off his high horse!"

"Vox tell your business partner to stop thinking his shit doesn't stink"

"oh you dumb bitc—"

"enough! Fucking Christ."

Valentinos attitude and mood instantly changed, the Overlord plopping himself down on the couch as he whined about it not being fair

"You must be insane if you think I'm going to back you up, Valentino"

You turned to him and a feeling of pride swelled in your chest, knowing your boyfriend had your back and defended you; you walked over to him and rested your forehead on his shoulder, finally taking a breather; your heart rate slowing down and your blood pressure going down

"thanks Vox"

He chuckled and placed a hand on the back of your neck

"anytime, baby"

Authors note! : I hope this was OKAYYY I did this while someone was talking my ear off so it might be a bit off 😭😭 STILL I hope you liked it thank u Anon!

[blueberryismilk18]

i’ve never asked anything on tumblr before but i NEED some joey from bistro huddy headcanons because the ones you did for brad were SO good (pretty please with a cherry on top !!!) (whenever you get the chance no rush !!!)

okay super sorry I took a while I started them but then I forgot… but I finished them finally, just a side note I can’t really see this working if you’re not a coworker so yeah, hope you enjoy :3 (I tried to keep them GN just let me know if I messed up at any point and I can edit it)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𝘑𝘰𝘦𝘺 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Coworker platonic:

🍽️ you just started working at Bistro Huddy and you already hear the yelling coming from the kitchen 

🍽️ if you’re nice to him he’s nice to you, if he yells is just cause he can’t stand the other servers so he doesn't mean it

🍽️ You’re his favorite server so of course when they accidentally make another of something he'll offer it to you first

🍽️ See’s you upset or crying cause of someone you bet he's gonna go over there and get confrontational

🍽️ oh you’re friends with just Joey? Not anymore you’re friends with the whole kitchen, shockingly enough even Ruby has some sort of respect for you (I love her)

🍽️ if you are like Nico or Pickles he will go insane (in a good way) but now on top of having his own kids (pls tell me people remember him talking about having to pay child support) he has to take care of 2 cooks and a server, never admit it but he does care about all of you

Coworker Romantic:

🍨 “Hello there Sweetheart/handsome/lovely” 

🍨 disgustingly flirty with you but plays it cool, will always be nice to you

🍨 Will mess up orders and give them to you, hope you enjoy your free lunch

🍨 get ready for the kitchen to tease you guys, y'all get no peace unless it’s outside work

🍨 this man is divorced and has kids and has to take care of the “kids” working in the kitchen, help him cool off and relax with him

🍨 idc what anyone says I feel like he would have some cheesy moments like slow dancing in his kitchen while waiting for the food to finish cooking, just some tame moments with Joey

🍨 gives you quick and small kisses when nobody is looking at work, I don’t think he’s really one for pda

🍨 Definitely makes up for it in private (interpret this how you want to 🫶)

🍨 He has his own way of showing you he cares, I feel like he struggles so he often does small things, too embarrassed to vocalize his feelings/doesn’t know how so give him some time

🍨 Joey is always on edge when pickles mentions you to any other server, cause any sort of news travels fast around the restaurant and I think he wants to keep it private for a while

🍨 let’s just say no matter how hard Joey tried pickles still slipped it and you get questioned for your taste in men…

🍨 overall Joey would be a pretty good boyfriend despite his anger issues, just help him calm down (again interpret that however you want to)

[furicookiebndz]

Lucifer x !FemReader : My old friend

Hello everyone, it is my first time writing this, i hope it will be good enough, have fun! This fan art isn't mine. Full credits to the amazingly talented artist/creator.

It has been thousands of years since evil began.

Lucifer, whose pride blinded him, attempted to dethrone the creator, only to ultimately fail and be banished from Paradise.

Lilith, who refused to submit to Adam, in turn fled from this magical place, but which hides many facades.

Yet few people know that with them, a third person flew out of Paradise. And even rarer are people who know the cause, 3 to be precise.

However, behind this unusual act lie very dark secrets, seen as…

-Can you stop, Vag'? You're giving me a headache.

The young woman turned her head towards the source of this execrable voice, a spider who was visibly lying carefree on the sofa, arms behind her head, a bored expression on her face.

Refraining from answering him, she continued:

Tragic, some thought it was another rebellious woman, others a fallen angel because of a serious crime, but that wasn't logical, what's worse than to confront the creator?"

-That doesn't help all of us, the young woman noted, running her hand through her hair, frustrated.

-It would be beneficial to have her on our side, especially if she has such a significant influence on the world of the living and beyond, Charlie concluded thoughtfully.

-But she hid from the world, living as a hermit. Many think it's a myth, but given what's been happening lately, I believe it's much more present than sinners think.

Vaggie rubbed her temples, trying to come up with an idea.

-Who the hell are you talking about? I hate it when you pretend to be Sherlock and leave me like the old cookie in the back of the cupboard.

-Are you interested in what we do? retorted Vaggie sarcastically

-No, more about why you were busting my balls, joked Angel.

-You don't even have one, asshole, mumbled quietly Husk, taking a sip of his cheap booze.

-Want to check~? It is free for you kitty cat.

-Not even for a thousand balls, growled quietly Husk, who was beginning to lose his patient.

-Ouuh finally a price there is progress, Daddy, the spider sent him a kiss

Alastor, who was reading a book by the fireplace, decided to speak

-Charlie, Darling, you seem concerned about this person Let me see…

He seemed surprised for a moment, before smiling more, if possible.

-My my, what a terrible coincidence. The person you are looking for is one of the most sought after. Didn't Lucifer tell you about Lady (Y/N)?

-Um… We're not exactly talking about all that-

“Daddy issues,” Husk muttered.

Alastor continued:

-As reported in this document, she flew away shortly after your parents. She was a person living in Heaven, she was not human, but not an angel entirely though, she had two pairs of wings, although she is the appearance of a mortal, yet she had her own power, not to be underestimated. She embodied humor, justice and determination. In short, all these things that are way too boring-

-Cut it short, Alastor, Vaggie said, snapping her fingers.

-But when Lucifer challenged God, she did not follow him, not because she had to beat him, but because he knew just as well as she did that what he was doing was wrong. For the first time in her life she felt an immense disappointment in the love he had once inspired in her, and the semblance of a relationship that was perhaps tending to end disappeared with the appearance of the first demon, your father, Charlie.

However, you are aware that shortly after the creation of Lilith, she quickly became friends with your mother, and when she flew away from Paradise, and she learned the cause, she entered in a black anger, so black that Gabriel had difficulty in containing it, Until then, she had always been obedient, never contesting the decisions, which were of infallible Justice, but this departure had torn away part of her herself. She confronted the lord, she tried to rally the others to her cause, but nothing changed. Disappointed, she left that place, and no one ever saw her again.

There was a heavy silence for a moment, before Angel said:

-So…Is she still a virgin?

Vaggie rolled her eyes before Charlie had an idea:

I'm sure she's not that far away. Maybe I should ask my father to contact her again. She must care about him, at least I hope so, and if I convince her, Gabriel won't be able to object!

Vaggie refrained from adding a comment, she knew it was too good to be able to do it, but in front of her girlfriend's adorable face, she couldn't refuse anything.

______________________________________________________________

-No, Lucifer said firmly, before Charlie could even finish his idea.

-But dad-

-End of discussion, I don't want to hear anything, he turned around and mechanically squeezed the rubber duck in his hand, like an anti-stress ball.

Lucifer seemed elsewhere, deep in thought. His friend, his old friend…

.

.

.

“Luciferrrrr!” A burst of joy appeared as she walked towards him, a smile on her lips, a book in her hands.

Lucifer as usual had a lyre in his hands. He looked up at Y/N and smiled.

One discussion led to another, he shared his ideas about the mortal world, while she agreed with some and shared her opinion on others. They would sometimes just stay silent, or she would read aloud from a book, and he would then accompany her with his lyre.

Such a beautiful memory…

.

.

.

Why Lucifer?! Why did you do this?

This same friend was there with her eyes filled with tears, disappointed in him.

Lucifer looked down. One mistake, just one mistake, had caused him to lose those he considered family, and his closest friend.

He wanted to tell her that it was just a misunderstanding, that it was for the best, but the damage was already done.

He took Lilith's hand and without a word, left for their new home.

The young woman, in tears, could only watch them leave, the man she loved and her friend, without being able to do anything, because her principles prevented her. Gabriel placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and said nothing. If she knew, he couldn't imagine how she would have reacted

.

.

.

-Dad?

Lucifer seemed to come out of his thoughts and focused on a family portrait. Lilith was already gone, after their separation he only had his daughter left, and after a second of thought he sighed and said:

-I'll see what I can do…

-It's true? Oh thank you Dad, thank you thank you thank you!, cried Charlie enthusiastically.

She took him in her arms, and Lucifer said to himself that finally, if having a hug from his daughter meant having to seek the 7 rings of Hell and even the beyond, he would do it without complaining.

Now all that remained was to find it, the most complicated part…

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Lucifer, Charlie and the hotel members thought for several days, using all their knowledge and powers to find her. If she was neither in Hell, nor in Heaven, or even in the mortal world, she must be between the latter options-

Lucifer suddenly had an idea, remembering a conversation they had shared long ago, and he cast an incantation, which opened a portal to a world- no, a unique place, so messy and blurry, and yet so… familiar, as if he were…

“In the middle of a dream,” Charlie whispered softly. The rest of the team followed her, looking around curiously. Lucifer asked himself so many questions, was it a place where souls rested between life and death? He did not know it. After all, the soul left the body for a while when it slept, that would explain the place.

-Who are you? I sense human souls, but something else…

They saw several women advancing, of great beauty, similar to fairies, but armed, ready to defend themselves, if it was not for another who stopped them by raising her hand, she advanced slowly, and Lucifer recognized her completely. right now.

-(Y/N)..Lucifer seemed upset to see her, and tried to pull himself together by talking to himself. "Ok, Ok. It's going to be okay buddy, you can do it, you can do it", When he met her gaze, he lost all his courage and hid behind Charlie.

-Dad!

-What? I-I'm just covering your back Charlie.

-At least what I thought of you is true, you're just a sissy Lucifer, Alastor sneered.

You looked at him for a moment, the man you had loved for thousands of years, it was..strange. You didn't know whether you should greet him or hit him.

-Lucifer, what is the honor of this visit worth to me? In 10,000 years you have never had the decency to come visit me.

Sarcasm. Something unusual about you, he couldn't help but admire you. Your two pairs of wings were now grey, but your eyes were still this soft (e/c) shade, but now full of resentment, and perhaps.. mockery?

-And you, you must be his daughter, mhh?

You moved closer to her and observed her suspiciously, while she was sweating profusely, and Vaggie seemed on the edge on attacking you, and to her surprise, you smiled widely and took her in your arms, with surprising strength.

-My lord you are his carbon copy, so pretty~, you squish her cheek cheeks and gush about her, while she laughs awkwardly.

Everyone was stunned by how fast the tension dissipates, and the women behind you giggle, seemingly aware by how fast your emotions tend to change. Lucifer smiles, maybe he still had a chance..

-But you seem so polite, unlike some, you cast a dark look at Lucifer, and greeted the others with a sympathetic and curious look, their offering to sit down for a while to talk.

...maybe not finally.

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-If I understood everything, you created a hotel to rehabilitate sinners… and are trying to convince Heaven, is that right?

She nodded and Lucifer tried to add something, but you stopped him:

-I don't speak with traitors and liars, especially if they forget to send me a life message for eons.

Lucifer doesn't say anything wanting to make anything worse. He knew he was wrong, and sighed heavily.

(Y/N)-1 Lucifer-0.

-Damn, this girl is awesome, Angel whispered excitedly.

Vaggie continued:

-Lady (Y/N), you still have decent relationship with heaven.Could you try talking to some highers-up about it? Like Gabrie-

-No, this thing is no longer part of my circle of close friends, I can still try to talk about it again with Sera and Emily, but I can't do anything with the other weirdo.

Charlie felt hopeless, and she took your hands and looked at you with a miserable expression.

-I beg you, you must speak to him, my people are dying every year at the hands of the exorcists, and I-I cannot stand by and do nothing. Can you try..?

At his beaten puppy look, you widened your eyes, it was exactly-

Please don't tell them where I was, Lucifer pleaded with adorable eyes. You sighed but smiled, nodding your head.

-Well, i will. But I'm not promising anything though-

-Thank you thank you thank you, she hugged you, and you hugged her back with a smile.

Lucifer felt his heart beat faster, these two women who are precious to him have finally met, and got along better than he expected.

Now all he had to do was sort out one last problem.

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Explanations were made. You listened patiently, and after a while you answered:

-Why Lucifer, didn't you tell me before? I-I thought I was your friend.

Lucifer held her gaze, and for the first time in millennia he took his courage in both hands and took hers:

-I didn't want to see your disappointed look, I know I made a mistake, but I only thought about doing the right thing. And I-

-You got scared?

He nodded, and you sighed:

-I don't blame you, at least not anymore.

He raised his eyes, feeling a bit of hope, and feeling Charlie's encouraging look, he continued:

-So, can we try again? I mean our relationship- Well our friendship!

He blushed slightly and you chuckled softly:

-Yes, always Lucifer.