#it was weirdly calming and peaceful

[scribl1ta]

A girl fell asleep with her head on my shoulder on the bus today

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

Easter Greetings by the President of Ukraine

Great People of Great Ukraine!

Today we celebrate a significant holiday — the Resurrection of the Lord. Easter. Easter symbolizes the liberation of the human soul from the slavery of evil and darkness. It symbolizes the victory of goodness and justice, the victory of life over death.

We have been fighting for all of this for 802 days in a row. 802 days of freedom standing up to darkness, valor standing up to terror. 802 days of our resistance, which can be described by the words from the Gospel of John: "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it…"

The exact same words are dedicated to one of the exhibitions at St. Sophia Cathedral, where I am now. Together, this exhibition and the other works by various Ukrainian artists convey a deep meaning. These are the icons on ammunition boxes. They are saturated with the smoke of our land and the spirit of our people. They are the symbols of great trials and great power that helps us overcome them. Each of these icons is like a divine manifestation, a proof that the heavens are with us, an answer to the question of why Ukrainians have withstood. It is because in the most difficult circumstances and in the darkest times we are able to create light. We can do it on boards scorched by fire and grief, that came from Ukrainian cities and villages exhausted by suffering. We can do this by combining the seemingly incompatible: the war and the Lord, by overcoming evil with faith, overcoming adversity with hope.

When taking a closer look at these icons, one can understand the feelings of our entire nation. It's a mirror that reflects our reality in times of war, the path we have already taken, and this Easter, and our entire present. This is what our amulets look like today. This is how we feel that God is protecting us through the hands of our warriors. This is how we see the protection of the heavenly forces, embodied in the Security and Defense Forces of Ukraine, every Ukrainian who devotes themself to the sacred cause of defending their native land from darkness and evil.

These icons bear the names of heroes who sacrificed their lives to protect us. They showed that Ukrainians kneel only to pray. And never do they kneel in front of invaders and occupiers.

The Bible teaches us to love our neighbor. And the present has shown us the true meaning of this word. When we support and help each other even hundreds of kilometers away from one another. We protect each other. We pray for each other. When we all have become closer to each other, we have become each other's neighbors. And our former neighbor, who was always making us take him for a brother, remains distant from us for centuries. They have broken all the commandments, coveted our house, and come to kill us. The world sees it.

God knows it. And we believe that there is a chevron with the Ukrainian flag on the shoulder of God. Therefore, with such an ally, life will definitely prevail over death.

As we overcome a common path and experience common pain, we are all united today by one common prayer. We pray for all our warriors who are celebrating Easter in the trenches and on the positions. We pray for our warriors of light, who restrain demons in all directions. We pray for those who keep another commandment in their lives: to defend Ukraine. We pray that they all come back alive.

We pray for all our civilians who work hard every day to strengthen our state and ensure that it successfully overcomes evil. We pray for those who live and work for this purpose.

We pray for all our children, for all the boys and girls brave far beyond their years, whose childhood was stolen from them by Russia, but who, despite everything, have not forgotten how to smile and believe in miracles.

We pray for all our mothers and fathers who were robbed of a happy, peaceful aging, and who, despite everything, are holding on and taking care of us.

We pray for all our cities and villages, that should feel the Lord's grace, not the constant terror of evil, and which have black clouds hanging over them, and bombs and missiles coming from those who belong in hell, not in the Ukrainian sky.

We pray for our lands and our people, whose spirit cannot be broken. And we remember the words written in St. Sophia Cathedral above the Oranta image, which came true in our lives: "God is in the midst of the city, and it will not be shaken. God will help it before dawn.”

Today, we are praying for all Ukrainians who are waiting for this dawn and will certainly see it. They will find peace, truth, and God, who will return to the scorched land, the land scarred with craters and trenches. He will return with peace, tranquility, and flowers instead of mines in the fields. He will return with children's laughter instead of the roar of an air alarm. The light that will return to all of our Lord-given land, to all the territories that are temporarily occupied by the devils. God will return to Mariupol. To the slag heaps and the seashores. It has always been so. It will definitely be so. I believe in this every day, especially on this glorious day in this glorious place, the history of which reminds us that neither the Horde invasion, nor the Nazi occupation, nor the Russian terror will be able to wipe us off the face of the Earth.

May the heavens strengthen our will in the battle against thralldom. May they give us courage for new achievements and wisdom to appreciate all that we have already gained. May they give us the strength to maintain unity, and give us unity to enhance our strength. May God grant eternal rest to all those who gave their lives for Ukraine and everlasting peace to their descendants, to all our children and grandchildren, and to all our future generations. They have the sacred right to know what a peaceful Easter in a peaceful Ukraine is.

Today we pray for it and we fight for it.

And the light shines in the darkness...

Happy Easter to all of you, dear Ukrainians!

Christ is risen!

He is risen indeed!

[clairvoyantcubes]

He hears their desire to release that excess amount of energy, but for some reason, Hearts has little desire to take any of them up on the offer to fight this night.

[man-made-misery]

TW for talk of funerals and grief down here 🖤

[clochanamarc]

i'm tired as hell but i want interactions so hit the heart if u want some memes!

[suiana]

(yandere! saw x gn! reader) (i actually haven't watched saw so idk how the game works 🤓☝️)

"and for your final challenge... you have to kiss me, now."

"aw hell nah, can you just kill me instead?"

"w-what?! no absolutely not!"

you watch as the male visibly twitches, freaking out on the spot as he faces the camera. he was literally panicking, gripping his microhone as you watch a bead of sweat drop down his forehead.

"no! it's either you kiss me, or you die! don't you understand?! you have to kiss me! it's like, the only option!"

"nah, i ain't kissing your clown looking ass. just kill me already dawg."

you remain calm, eyebrows raised as you tap your feet against the ground impatiently. there was no way in hell you were going to makeout with this man thing. he looked like a murder clown from 1900s with his black and white makeup and suit!

and even thoigh you thought you were freaky, there was no way you were going to kiss that doll turned man. nuh uh. that is downright insane, even if he does look hot. i mean, this guy killed people! led them to death games that none of them eould survive to begin with!

why?

cause he liked you, duh. the game was rigged apparently. you found that out from him when he sneaked around and tried holding a conversation with you. it was mostly just him talking though. flushed cheeks and stuttering and all. it would've been cute if he weren't a murderous doll.

"so? are you gonna kill me now? I'm actually not gonna kiss you."

"no! ugh! you're so stubborn! just kiss me already damn!"

he groans into the microphone, glaring at you down the cameras before he disappears momentarily, holding a big red button with the words 'do not push' underneath.

"if you don't kiss me now, i will press this button."

"what does it do?"

"make you do things. silly things. with me, of course."

you stare at him, silence filling the room. what the hell? you couldn't even get a chance to respond before he presses it and out came a chair which you were forced to sit down on.

"what the- a chair? you're gonna give me head?"

you stare up at the screen, only to realise that the oddly attractive doll-human had disappeared. damn it. so he really was going to get all up and physical with you huh?

you watch as he pops up from behind, a grin on his lips before he kneels down by your feet, face against your lap. he looked... weirdly calm and at peace for a doll that just led someone to their death a few hours ago. but you suppose it's because he's not human. well, fully at least.

"oh, so head it is-"

"no not head! what the heck?!"

the doll screeches, hands digging into the legs of the chair. he whines, throwing a small tantrum before his rosy cheeks get even rosier (if that was possible? and his eyes grow all wide. you raise an eyebrow at his silence, frowning slightly before yelping as he suddenly starts begging.

"ahem! do you want to be my lover? uh uh who said that?! okay okay, do you want to be my big sweaty alpha lover? WHAT?! WHO SAID THAT?!"

what the hell?!

"uh..."

"i meant- do you want to be my sigma lover who will peg me- WHO THE HELL SAID THAT?!"

"please just kill me."

yeah, now death is sounding like the much better option than being the lover of this weird doll. hey! maybe smashing your head against the chair would work!

[inkskinned]

there's a video on instagram of a man kicking his partner's door in. the top comment is (with over 4 thousand likes): "how about you tell us what you did to make him that angry?"

barring emergency, nobody should be kicking anybody's door in. many of us lived in houses where it was always, somehow, an emergency. there is a strange, almost hysterical calm that comes over you in that moment - everything feels muted, and you almost feel, however incongruently, like you should be laughing. you are living inside of "the emergency." oh my god, you think. i am now a fucking statistic.

there is another comment with 2.8 thousand likes: "if this was a woman doing it to a man, nobody would give a shit."

do people give a shit now, though?

barring emergency, the door should remain standing. the emergency should be panicked, desperate - "i'm coming in there to protect you." many of us know what it feels like when the emergency is instead "i'm coming in there to get you."

1.5k likes: "and yet you post this for notes. glad to see being the victim has become your whole personality."

hysteria is a word connected to womb, from greek. what you're experiencing is so senseless and inhumane that you (a rational creature) try to find any ground within what is irrational and cannot be explained. one of the most frustrating things about staying in bad situations is that we also lie to ourselves. we also ask ourselves - wow. what did i do?

women can be, and often are, also abusers. abuse is not gendered. abuse is not just a "straight person" problem. abuse does not have a face or figure or sexuality. you cannot pick an abuser out of a crowd. an abuser could be actually anybody.

and then so many people rally behind the man kicking the door in. here is something nobody should be doing, right? you want to ask every person that liked that first comment: do you ask this because you side with him? do you ask this because it helps you feel safe from this ever happening?

in some ways, you're weirdly sympathetic to the top comment, because it is the same logic you see frequently. the idea is that the average, normal, sane person doesn't just break down a door. doesn't just shoot up a school. doesn't stalk and kill women. doesn't threaten sexual assault. doesn't run over protesters. doesn't shoot an unarmed black person. doesn't scream at underpaid walmart employees. doesn't just "lose it". something had to have happened, right? because the default (white. straight. cis.) - that is someone who is always, you know. "sane."

(right?)

on a podcast, you hear a sane, normal, rational person. "if you piss me off, i'm going to need to hit something. sorry but i'm not apologizing. that's just who i am that's how it is." his voice almost sounds like he's laughing.

you think of the door, and how you were almost laughing behind it, too. ironically, every real emergency in your life has almost felt peaceful in comparison. fire, car accident, flash flooding - these felt quiet, covenant to you. you'd stood in all of them, feeling them pass over and up to your chin, never actually overwhelming.

but when the door was coming down, you had felt - is there a word for that? there has to be, a word, right.

surely one of us has figured out the word for that, i mean. it's such a large fucking statistic.

[youryanderedaddy]

Yandere! Crazy ex boyfriend

tw: female reader, non - con, heavy degradation, slut-shaming, abuse/violence, mockery of depression, suicidal ideation, obsessive behavior, death threats, dark

It's 2 a.m. and you can't sleep - you keep turning and burying your head into the soft, warm pillow, but something is off. The moon is too bright, coming in from the gap between your heavy curtains. The crickets outside are too loud, playing around and singing the same old melody over and over again. The static silence of the old radio tucked under the drawers is too repetitive, too predictable. All in all, you can feel it in your bones; something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

You hear the steps next. That sinister laughter - getting louder and louder, someone screaming at the top of their lungs, the echo flooding through the thin walls of your small shared flat. Someone's fist is gripping the lock with uneccessary cruelty as if trying to knock it out of the handle. The key falls down in one sharp motion, and your heart stops completely once the door opens with a squeaky, familiar bang - it still makes you jump even after all those months.

"Aww, baby!" The man exclaims, leaning against the door. You're not sure if you are hallucinating due to the countless hours of lost sleep, or there is actually smoke coming out of his old black trenchcoat. You're not even sure if he's trully here, or if this is yet another nightmare. "You didn't bother with locks this time!" He continues, smiling with childlike glee - but you know him too well. He's never peaceful. He's never cheerful. Any indication of happiness the monster exhibits is meant to confuse and trick his prey, and you're not falling for his tricks again. You already got burnt one too many times.

"Does that mean you missed me?" He tilts his head, almost pouting at you. He's all disheveled - a total wreck. The curly, unruly hair you once loved to caress and play with now just seems shaggy and unkept, sticking out like an explosion. His eyes are dark, well, darker, bloodshot, barely recognizable from the warm pots of honey that used to make you melt against him. He's lost weight, yet weirdly enough seems to have gained some muscle. You can't help, but think that it simply looks weird, unnatural even. Adam, the one you remember, was never strong - he was never threatening, never even raised his voice at you. But that was years ago in the sweet, distant dreams of the past, and that boy had died the moment you two moved in together. That's when your hell trully began.

"Were you trying to give me easy access, baby? Hm?" He smirks, interrupting your stream of consciousness. If you were unsure of his physicallity, of his existence, it's bright clear now - because you can never mistake that taunting, humiliating curve to his voice, the one he only uses when he's mad. Really, really mad. "Knew I would be back?"

You take a deep breath, slowly nodding along - maybe if you play nice, he'd just go away. Maybe this time you won't end up in cuts and bruises, all memories, good or bad, completely wiped off your drugged out hazy brain.

"Of course you did." Your ex boyfriend humms in satisfaction, taking a single step towards you - and it makes you tremble all over, no matter how much you wish you could remain calm and collected at the face of Death himself. "Because I told you so, no?" He clenches his teeth, raising his head so his eyes would meet yours. You feel like a deer caught before a trigger guard with an unstable trigger, one second away from being shot in the heart. "I told you-" He steps closer. "That I'll be back-" Another step. "Didn't I, princess?"

You nod again, unable to produce a sound. You almost wish he brought his gun so this little torture session would end quicker. Almost.

"Aww, look at you trying so hard to please me. It's adorable, baby." The man coos, his knee sliding across the edge of your bed. Fear takes a hold of your lungs, squeezing them in until you feel like you're seeing stars - and then Adam climbs on top of you. It all happens so quickly - one moment he's far away, and then he's towering over you, his hot breath ghosting over your sweaty neck, baby hairs sticking out with shivers. You can't shake the terrifying, unescapable feeling that you've been here before. That you somehow always end up underneath him, begging for your life - for mercy he won't ever grant you.

"I wonder where all that enthusiasm was when you decided to run on me." The white part of his eyes suddenly illuminates, brows raised together - he looks deranged. "Huh?" He looks at you, expecting an answer, yet you can't think of one. Your brain is turning to mush, consumed by raw panic - but why does it matter? Whatever you say he'll find a way to use against you. "Answer me, you fucking bitch!" He hisses, voice dropping to a diabolical whisper as his fist snaps around your throat like a metal collar. This seems to break off your stupor, and you open your mouth, ready to yell at whoever is still awake.

"Don't you dare fucking scream, cunt." Adam grips your jaw with one hand, crushing your cheeks into each other. "If I hear a single word come out of that filthy little mouth of yours, I am going to slit your fucking throat." His lips twist in a big sadistic grin you would have wanted to punch had you had the strength to move your arm around. Instead you whimper, defeated. Even after everything, your stupid self preservation instinct won't let you die - so it sacrifices the only thing you have left, your dignity. "And then in the morning your little friends will find you drowning in your own blood." He lowers his face, cold dead lips tracing the rough lines of your collarbone.

"A pretty picture for sure." He bites his lower lip, imagining it for just a second. "Bu-ut I know that even a depressed, suicidal little attention whore like you wouldn't want her friends to be sad." The man adds teasingly, and you can feel the bile back up into your stomach, burning and acidic. You may actually throw up all over him if you're not careful. And then he'd kill you for sure. "I mean, you seem to care for these pesky bugs oh-so much. It'd be a pity to force them to clean up your remains-"

"N-no, that's not true. I don't care about them, I only care about you!" You lie through your teeth, hot, salty tears pricking your eyes as you deny the love you have for the only people who care about you - the ones who basically saved you from a life of abuse and suffering. But apparently nothing good lasts, not when it comes to you. "Adam, I only love y-"

He backhands you - the slap echoes through the roof. Ouch.

"Don't say-" Your ex boyfriend grunts, roughly shoving you down. You take a shallow breath, letting the sting settle in. It's going to leave a red ugly handprint all over your cheek - and yet you stupidly thought your little confession was going to make him happy. Your anchors, the straws that used to buy you time, howerer rare and far in between, are all gone now. You used them up. You've run out of time, out of trick, out of will to keep fighting.

But you know he'll never make good on his threats. He'd never actually kill you - he doesn't love you enough to rid you of this miserable obsession that ties you together. And yet you tremble every time you feel the graze of his knife against your skin - you cower whenever he raises his hand. And you break down when he holds you close, hoping, praying that this time his embrace would prove just suffocating enough for you to stop breathing all together. It never does.

"Don't say you love me. You don't love me." Adam hisses in your ear, venom dripping off each word. "And I don't even care if you love me." He turns you around, pushing your face into your pillow - muffling your cries into weak, hiccuping sobs. "You're nothing." He swallows, averting his gaze to your lower body - yanking your shorts down with little concern as to whether they'd rip or not. "You amount to nothing, you're lower than dirt. You're just a fucked up little bitch." The man keeps mouthing off, and you can't decide what hurts more - his nails digging into your hips, or the razor sharp insults. " I never want you to forget that you deserve everything I give you."

You cry out as his massive length enters you with absolutely no preparation. It hurts - you're dry and it chaffs against your walls with nothing to make it slide freely, bruising your cervix. Your muscles are trying to push the foregin object out, but it keeps pushing in and out of you in forceful uniform thrusts. Between the waves of sharp and stinging-hot pain you manage to form a coherent thought - and you're surprised. Surprised that the man is even able to stay hard when all he feels right now is anger. Not love or affection, not even lust. Just anger. Surprised your body is still going even after your mind has given up. Surprised that, even despite all your protests and agony, you are growing used to this.

"I gave you everything." Adam start off again, picking up the pace of his thrusts. "Everything - but you're too much of a selfish whore to see." He pulls your hair back so you'd face him from beneath - then he slaps you with all force. "I want to mess up that pretty little face of yours." His hand connects to your cheek once again. You know you'll wake up all puffy and blue tomorrow morning - if you even wake up. "I want you so goddamn ugly no one wants you anymore." He pulls you in by your shirt, smashing his lips against yours with a brutal force - as if he's trying to become one with you, and break your face at the same time. "I want you so ruined-" He kisses you again, teeth running into teeth - yet he's the one to bite you first. "And lonely that you have no one else to turn to."

"I want you broken." He pulls away just to stare into your empty eyes, voice now back to a whisper. "As broken as me."

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

If you are up for it could write more Justice League x Assistant reader?

That scenario did things to me honestly, and I can't find anything similar 😭

Maybe reader calls in sick and the each JL member goes to check on them unanounced (reader never told them were they lived but of course they'd know *sideeyes batman*) which end up on all the members questioning and pointing at each other *cue spider man meme*, because why are you at my darling's- I mean our Assistant's house!

Reader kicks everyone out except the gourmet chef batman brought to cook reader some chicken soup.

A Day in Life: In Health and Sickness

Synopsis: A day in life were you, the Justice League's assistant, find out that sickness and a bunch of obsessed superheroes are just too much to bear all at once.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader; Platonic!Alfred Pennyworth

Tw: Nonconsensual (not sexual) touching; A single mention of obscene acts; Kinda breaking and entering; Reader gets physically restrained; Kinda forced infantilization? But not really, just humiliation; Some members of the League might be out of character bc I don't know them well enough; I was sleepy while revising and editing this so I might fix any mistakes I didn’t see later; English is not my 1st language.

Word count: 2,6k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: Thank you so much for your compliments and the request!! Your suggestion really gave me inspiration to write as soon as I saw it. It's not exactly what you asked for but I hope it's the same vibe and you like it!! Also I’ve seen all the requests for a part 2 of “He's My Collar”, but as stated here, I didn't answer bc I’m working on it! I just didn't have any ideas yet!

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

Whatever hit you today, it sucks. Yesterday, in the afternoon, you had a mild throbbing in your head, but not exactly a headache, at night, fever hit you, alongside a cough. Medicine helped enough but today you still felt a little warm, your head hurt, your nose was somehow stuffed and leaking at the same time. You've been awake for an hour and still just couldn't get yourself to care for your basic needs like showering and eating, let alone go to work, so you called in sick. At least you would have some piece for a day.

Or that's what you thought, until you heard some tapping on your window, scaring the shit out of you, and saw Superman outside with a sympathetic smile and holding a pharmacy bag, a crate of water bottles and food.

Ugh, of course you couldn't actually have some peace.

You took a deep breath to prepare yourself and got up, walking towards you bedroom window, and tried sticking your head outside, hoping he wouldn't enter your home if you kicked him out before, but before you could do anything else, he supersped inside and suddenly was at your side, making you dizzier.

— Hey! I heard what happened. How’re you feeling? — The alien’s face showcased his concern on his furrowed brows and he took a step too close (any step in your direction taken by one of the heroes was already too close for you), extending his arm forward to place the back of his hand in your forehead. You took a step back but he didn't seem to mind.

— Uh, I'm fine. You didn't need to come here. — Superman shook his head.

— I wanted to help. Here, I brought som- — Doorbell. The hero looked in the direction the sound came from, most likely using his X-Ray vision to look through the walls and doors, and squinted his eyes. Oh boy. — You called someone? — His voice is weirdly calm, contrasting with the way he abruptly starts marching out of your room and to the door.

Earlier you thought the fast exertion of movements would be too great for you, but apparently adrenaline was on your side, enough to follow him around as if you were the visitor inside your own place.

— I didn't. — You respond flatly and holding back a groan from annoyance, since you also didn't invite him.

Superman immediately opens the door as soon as it's within his reach and what's on the other side surprises you more than when you got the job at the watchtower.

— Superman. — Batman didn't seem surprised, but he also never showed emotions other than anger. — (Y/N). This is Penny-One. — He is surely referencing the old man well dressed on his side. — He is here to take care of you. — You raise an eyebrow, almost speechless.

— T-Take care of me? — You helplessly watch them invading your residency, painfully aware there's nothing you can do. Superman crossed his arms.

— This is not necessary, I came here to do just that. — Superman’s protest unfortunately doesn't give you any hint of how this will all turn out, nor does it scare Batman and his friend away..

— You have your own responsibilities. — Batman simply states. — You should go.

Penny-One simply turns to you.

— It's a pleasure, Miss/Master/Mx (Y/N), even in your condition. Master Batman talks a lot about you. — You don't know what to stay and it probably shows, since no one waits much for your reaction before Penny-One is moving towards your kitchen and Batman and Superman continue with their argument.

You just go and sit down on your couch, questioning your life decisions and escape plans, which will have to wait until this damned curse leaves your body (and your home).

Your hands raise to rub your face and maybe give you some clearance, maybe wake you up from this nightmare, but keeping your eyes closed and sitting down only remind you of your condition. You feel worse or is it just your spirits? Either way, you let your body slide down until your side rests on the couch cushions, arms hugging your own body to try to have some warmth back. When did it become so cold?

At least their voices were low, as if trying not to bother you, it's a little soothing, especially with the promise of having food. Your eyes hurt just from staying open so you don't. At some point, some type of fabric is thrown over your body and a hand combs through your hair. You are too weak to do anything.

Next time you open your eyes, it's due to disturbing noises, your head is no longer on the arm of the couch and instead is laying on someone’s bare thighs. A pair of hands is running through your locks, and a really nice smell is in the air.

Did you fall asleep?

That would explain why your head is on fucking Wonder Woman's lap and she is looking at you lovingly. Also the fabric from before is Superman's cape.

You quickly shoot up, although just as fast, four or five pairs of hands, coming from seemingly out of nowhere — startling you even more — push you back down, you don't go without struggle, and soon, all hands disappear, green lights catch your attention and you can't move your body a single inch anymore. Somehow, you ended up restrained by a green and bright cocoon, as if you were soon to be a butterfly, only your face is free. Green Lantern’s construct.

— Hey, hey, calm down, hot stuff. I know she’s scary and you would never want to be close to anyone else but me, but you still need rest. — You're turned to the ceiling against your wishes. For some reason the fact that your whole body is covered doesn't give you the comfort nor the protection it should give you, instead, it reminds you of how vulnerable you are.

Your wide and paranoid eyes try to search for anything, since your head is being held in place. You can see Wonder Woman above you, glaring at something outside your line of vision, you are still in her lap. A bit of Aquaman’s blond hair on the bottom of your vision. And Batman, towering over you and the amazon, just observing as always.

— You can release them now, Green Lantern. — It's Superman's voice.

— He is not going to. — You see Batman saying at the same time another voice speaks the same sentence, making all of them turn in the direction of the sound, somewhere you can't see, but you recognize the voice. — He thinks they're weak and incapable of making decisions. — I'm sorry, who is weak and incapable of making decisions here? — He also wants to prove he is the only one capable of protecting and taking care of (Y/N), and impress them so they will fall right into his arms, call him a hero and give him a kiss… And other obscene things. — Batman smirks. Wonder Woman and another new and deep voice loudly laugh, the masculine voice being more obnoxious. Someone scoffs indignantly.

— Okay. Get out of my fucking head or I will make you. — The Lantern's voice sounds angry and you hear hurried footsteps. They wouldn't fight right here, right?! Right beside your sick body and in the middle of your crumpled apartament… It would make such a mess…

— I wasn't inside your head. Your thoughts were too loud, it's like you are screaming in my ear.

— I will make you scream! — You hear Superman superspeeding, probably getting in between the fighting duo.

— Ha- Green Lantern, calm down. No one will make anyone do anything here.

The agonizing feeling of restriction grows.

— WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE? — You scream in a husky voice, panting right after. Everyone is silent and the next second, the construct moves you around until you're sitting up, back to the back of the couch. You are still being held and manhandled, but at least you're not in someone's lap and you can see something other than your ceiling.

Martian Manhunter is standing a few meters away from you, Superman by his side. Wonder Woman was still sitting beside you and doesn't look like getting up any time soon, Green Lantern makes his way to sit down on your other side, placing his arm around you, gladly you can't even feel it. Batman is still standing on the side of the couch, his cape covering his body. Aquaman is sitting in your armchair, his face laid on his hand, watching amused, if not a bit annoyed.

It's so weird seeing all of them, suited up, in the middle of your living room, and in plain daylight.

— We came here to nurse you back to health. — Wonder Woman speaks.

— Uhh, don't you think this is a little too much? — The heroes look at each other as if looking for the issue.

— I mean, yeah. I could do it alone, but for some reason when I got here, these freaks had already broken into your house. — Freak Lantern says, pointing an accusing finger at the other freaks in question, the trinity, Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman. — Those two came in later. — He nodded at Martian Manhunter and Aquaman, not giving them a single look, his eyes solely on you. Like everytime he insists on overly making eye contact with you, it's a bit uncanny. — Worry not, beautiful. I will kick them out for you. — Superman and Wonder Woman snort at his arrogance.

— You could go with them. I'm fine, I don't need help. I’ve been taking care of myself for years and can still do it. — You've been nice long enough, they crossed the line, they invaded your apartment, which is so unprofessional, and you need to set limits. They just look at you with pity.

— I am are aware of my neglect. — Neglect? — But it's going to be different now that we are reunited… — Uh? What is Manhunter talking about?

— Exactly. History has proven how men are unreliable and indifferent to others. I'm the only one you need, darling. — Wonder Woman caresses your face. — I don't even know what they think they are doing here…

— What are you doing here, princess? Don't you have mommy issues to fix or a guy named Steve Trevor to talk to? — The amazon furrowed her eyebrows and glared at the one sitting on your other side.

— Don't listen to him, (Y/N). I left Steve a long time ago, when I met you. — Girl, why? Go back to your man! Leave me alone! — What about Aquaman? Doesn't he have a kingdom to rule? — The man in question dismissed her answer with a hand movement.

— I’m protecting Atlantis’s future by making sure none of you get any ideas and (Y/N) survives their illness. — Batman shook his head.

— I’ve already made sure they're taken care of. You shouldn't be here. There's more important matters for us out there.

— Then why aren't you there?

Their battle of egos is just too fast for your slowed down brain to process and try to formulate any form of strategy. Before their banter gets worse, the older man from before reappears.

— Your soup is ready, Miss/Master/Mx (Y/N). — Penny-One seems unbothered by the commotion around you, walking in with the source of the heavenly smell. Your mouth waters.

— Let me do it, Penny-One. — Wonder Woman gently offers and takes the bowl from him, along with the spoon. The Justice League makes sounds of disgust when they start watching her spoon feeding you (they wanted to be in her place).

You groan, complain, try to wiggle out of the construct but nothing works, especially with your fatigued and sick state. If you weren't claustrophobic before you might be from now on. You are clearly uncomfortable and practically begging to get out but for some reason they just won't listen. It gets to the point where as soon as you finish your soup — after realizing, again, that with those people it's just easier to surrender —, and take your medicine, Green Lantern’s temper apparently gets done with your whining and resistance, and he simply makes another construct. Now you have a pacifier in your mouth. It's your limit.

They start fighting again because some of them find it degrading, some like to hear your voice even if they know how close to cussing them out you are, and some think it's cute and prefer your quietness over your cries.

You can't move. You can't spit it out. You can't bite it off. You can't ask for help.

Green Lantern is rubbing your cheek while — slightly — mocking you. Wonder Woman is cooing at you, while trying to convince the Lantern to stop with his antics. Aquaman is clearly expressing he is on the Lantern’s side. Batman, Superman and Martian Manhunter are threatening him.

Frustration gets the better of you and the dam breaks loose. Now you are wrapped, with a pacifier and crying. Like a baby. In front of your bosses. In front of people who think you are vulnerable and need them. They're practically keeping you hostage. You didn't want them here. You told them no, countless times, and they just blatantly ignored your boundaries.

You have a pa-ci-fi-er. In. Your. Mouth.

And they are talking. They are ignoring you. They're been doing it for hours. No. Months. That's abuse.

This is the most emotion they ever got out of you and it immediately quiets everyone down. They're just staring at you, shocked. This whole thing is just a shitshow. A disaster. They're a curse. You are cursed.

It's so distracting that it makes Green Lantern lose his concentration, which is what fuels his ring’s power, and the constructs start dissipating.

You immediately get up and put as much distance between you and the team, who all have wide eyes and maybe had just now realized the gravity of the situation, while thinking about control damage.

You are searching desperately for how you could effectively kick them out, while also experiencing just the aftereffects of a new trauma, when it looks like it will get even worse. Flash zooms into the apartment.

— Hey, (Y/N)! Sorry I took so long! Busy Day. N-Not that I wouldn't quit anything and everything just to help you. I just now saw the notification that you took a day off today! W-What… W-What are you guys doing here…? — The speedster noticed after his rambles the he is not the only one in the middle of your living room, and points at the whole team, who is on the complete opposite side of you. They also point at him.

— You’re late. — Batman states.

— Slowest man alive. — Green Lantern calls out his friend.

Flash looks around as if gathering his thoughts and notices your distressed state. He turns completely to them, his back to you and him being between you and his team.

— What did you do to them? — At his demand, all of them start pointing at each other and giving some sort of explanation or their side of the story at the same time, turning it into unintelligible sounds, until your yell interrupts them.

— GET. OUT!

— But-

— OUT!

— But, (Y/N)-

— NOW! GET OUT NOW!

They grumble but comply. Penny-One, who was totally unfazed during the while ordeal, just sighs, and starts making his way with them. Until you take a timid step toward him and stop him.

— N-Not you… I-I mean the soup was really good and I don't think I will have the energy to cook later… I-If it's n-not bothering you… — The older man smiles placantinly at you.

— Of course, dear. I'm getting paid either way, might as well just finish my job here.

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

Taglist:

@wandalfnation

[fourmoony]

This may be weirdly specific so feel free to ignore if so but

Jamie with a reader who’s never felt like she was someone’s first choice and is having a hard time grasping that she *is* his

thanks for requesting angel! 1.5k f!reader modern!au

he's my sweet boy i need him in a way i cannot describe

masterlist

James' shrill ring tone fills the room, but neither of you make an effort to move for it where it's buzzing against the coffee table. You probably should be the one to do it, considering you're sprawled across the top of James, making it rather difficult for him to move. But, he doesn't ask you to, so you don't. Even when it rings a second time. You think James might actually be asleep, unaware to the incessant ringing. He's slept through worse, in all fairness.

But he groans petulantly when the ringing stops, turns to ping after ping, the texts flashing across his locked screen and illuminating the dark calm of his living room. His hand leaves it's place on your hip, reaching half heartedly for the device and when he fails, you sigh and reach for it yourself. It'd been a peaceful two hours of relaxing, just existing together in the same space, not really talking, not really doing anything except revelling in the feeling of each other's presence on James' couch after a busy week of barely seeing each other. Between your work, James' rugby practices, and trying to maintain social lives, it'd been hard to have quality time.

You're okay with that. More than okay with that. James has his life and you have yours. This thing you have, it's new and it's fragile, and you won't dent it or risk losing it by being clingy, by telling James that you miss him, that you want to spend more time with him, friends and coworkers, practices and life be damned. You refuse. So you slide the top half of your body off the couch, one hand holding yourself up on the floor, and the other outstretched for James' phone.

His left hand cups the back of your thigh, fingers slipping between the left and right. It's an innocent touch, but heat floods your body all the same as your fingers wrap around his rubber phone case and you heave your body back on top of his. He grumbles when the phone starts to ring again, rubs an apologetic hand up and down the back of your thigh which has you forcing your face into the crease of his neck and shoulder to hide the bright red of your cheeks.

He rests his head atop yours as he answers the phone.

Sirius' voice booms through the speaker, though it's too muffled to make out what he's saying. James answers whatever it is with a tired sounding "Not tonight, mate."

There's more muffled talking, a couple of voices added into the mix and you assume that Sirius is in the local pub. Your heart sinks a little when you realise he's likely inviting James out, and you don't have the heart to tell him you'd rather stay inside the cozy confines of his flat, half asleep in the dim evening light. You don't want to seem controlling or toxic, so you lie still, control your breathing, don't react to whatever is coming down the line from Sirius' end.

James chuckles lightly, his free hand rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back, hand warm against your skin where it's worked it's way under your - his - rugby jumper. "Yeah, yeah, she's here." James' hand squeezes the pudge of your hip at the mention of you.

You tilt your head up in interest and James smiles down at you, warmly, presses his lips to the crown of your head as Sirius screeches down the phone.

"No. No, Sirius, she doesn't want to spend her only day off in the pub listening to you lot." James speaks with humour in his voice, but you can see the hint of frustration that's in his eyes.

You frown, wonder if he's frustrated because he feels he has to pick between you and his friends. You love his friends, you get on well with them, but he's right, you can't think of anything worse on your only day off than going to the pub. "You should go." You whisper, urging James by attempting to climb off of him.

His arm wraps tight around your waist, brows furrowed as he looks down at you and shakes his head, "No." He mouths.

Then, "No. Sirius. No. Mate, you're smashed, have Moony take you home."

James laughs at whatever Sirius says in retort, and then the two are saying their goodbyes. James tosses his phone onto the coffee table after he switches it to silent mode.

"You should go. This is your only day off, as well. Go see your friends. We can do a quick dinner or something tomorrow." You try to urge him again.

James' immediate response is to hold you tighter to him, as though you may actually be trying to escape him. "I'd rather spend my time here. With you." He shrugs, like it's nothing.

Your heart does a little stutter at his words, but your brain catches up and you sigh, "Jamie, it's okay. If you want to go, you should."

His brows hook upward at the middle when he furrows them, his eyes searching yours, "Why is it so hard for you to believe I'd rather be here with you?"

You try not to flinch at his words, try not to think about all the boys before who've put a myriad of things above you. It's fine, really. You've grown accustomed to settling for the dregs, the stolen moments. James is worth the heavy feeling it leaves in your chest to be second best. Simply because when you're with him, the world melts away.

Feigning indifference, you shrug against him, "Because all we're doing is laying here in the dark, half asleep. Wouldn't you rather be out with your friends having a laugh?"

"Would you?" James counters, and it seems like he genuinely wants to know your answer, like he thinks, foolishly, so foolishly, you'd rather be anywhere else. That you wish you were doing more.

Doing nothing with James forever sounds like the best thing you've ever heard. "No. Not at all. I love this. But I know you. You're a social butterfly." You speak softly, cautious of the conversation turning into a row.

You have too many experiences with conversations like the one you're having now being turned into a row.

James nods, "I love this, too. And you're right, I like to be social, but sometimes that drains me. I've spent all week being social, spent all week missing you, and I'm drained. All I wanted to do all week was see you, spend time with you. I couldn't think of anything worse than going to the pub, right now."

His hands are as assuring as his words, trailing a path of warmth and comfort across the planes of your back, your thighs, your hips. It's surreal, the assertiveness he speaks with, the way he makes sure you know he means every word. Your stomach flutters with the idea of him missing you as much as you missed him. It's weird, to feel validated, to feel content and sure.

"I just don't want your friends to think you're picking me over them, or something." You mumble, head dropping back into the space between his shoulder and neck.

James hums, "I am though. Not in a bad way. I just," He pauses, like he's searching for the words, "I'm sure about this, you know? Sure about you, about us. You mean a lot to me, and I'm all in. You come above everything else because, for me, that's the only way it'll work."

You feel rather silly for the tears that spring their way to your eyes, and begin to leak without your consent against James' neck. He must feel them, because he tuts, using his hands to pry your face away from the skin, thumbs swiping softly at the fallen tears. He looks at you so gently you might start sobbing. Relief washes over you in waves, and you realise you hadn't even been aware how worried you were that you felt more for James than he did for you.

"Why are you crying, sweet girl?" He whispers, pressing a kiss to each of your tear stained cheeks.

You loose a breath, "I've never been someones first choice before."

That visibly upsets James, who takes it upon himself to right this wrong, stave off your tears by pressing kisses all over your face between murmured promises.

"I'd pick you in this life," a kiss to your nose, "the next," a kiss to your forehead, "the one after that," a kiss to your chin, "and in every universe."

He finishes with a kiss to your lips, soft and deep, his hands steady on the line of your jaw. You whine a little, pushing further into him until he's chuckling into your mouth.

"I'd pick you, too," You say into his mouth.

James smiles, bright as anything you've ever seen, "Thank God for that, lovie."

And yeah. Thank god for that.

[homeslices]

Euphoria (Azriel x pregnant!reader)

Summary: You and Azriel find out you’re pregnant.

A/N: Thought his idea was cute and I’m thinking about making this an entire series of dad!Azriel. Also I’m sorry if this isn’t good, it’s my first time writing anything for acotar, but I do really like it so I plan on writing more in the future.

Pairings: Azriel x pregnant!Reader

Warnings: suggests smut, slight angst about not being able to conceive a baby (fluff to make up)

Word Count: 1.0k

Azriel and you had been trying to have a babe for a while. While the only people in the Inner Circle who had a child was Rhys and Feyre, you have been mated for hundreds of years and were beyond ready. 

Having children was something you had to have many lengthy discussions about first. Azriel’s trauma with his family as a child and your own trauma being an Illyrian women whose wings got clipped before being cast out of your home only too be found and taken in by Rhys’s his mother, were all things you both had to think about before even considering bringing a babe in this world. That’s not even mentioning the war you and all of your loved ones fought in and somehow survived. However, seeing Feyre and Rhy being amazing parents to their son, and just seeing Nyx in general, has confirmed what you both have wanted for a while. 

But, as much as you both wanted a child, it just did not happen. It’s been years since you started trying, and as much as you love to be with Azriel intimately, it started to feel more like a task rather than something fun. There have been a few nights that Azriel has woken up because you forgot to close the bond and was flooded with your feelings of self-loathing. All he could do was cup your tearstained face and whisper reassuring and loving words to you. You blamed yourself and as much as Azriel denied it, those thoughts just didn’t go away.

After the third night of that happening, both you and Azriel decided to just stop trying. Of course you both would continue to not take the tonic, but your goal while being intimate was no longer having a baby, it was to enjoy each other. After a time, sex was pleasurable again, your mindset improved, and while you did have moments of self doubt, Azriel was always there for you as you were for him. Similarly, your family was amazing the entire time. While Azriel and you were fairly private about the situation, you didn’t hide what was going on with them. Their support helped you heal, both of you. It’s been a few years since then, Nyx was now six and it is true that time heals all wounds. 

Azriel was the one who noticed it first. The sun was starting to rise, light beginning to stream through the window of Azriel and your shared bedroom. It was one of those rare occasions that neither of you had to go anywhere that morning, however, Azriel was so used to being up before the sun that he was already awake. Your face was peaceful as you slept, your bare figure tangled in the sheets, and the only noise heard was your soft breathing. His hazel eyes watched your calm face, all the while having his shadows watch both of your surroundings. Weirdly enough, his shadows also kept brushing over you, almost like they were scared to let you out of their grip. It reminded him of when you first mated, at least one of his shadows had to be with you at all times once both of you got out of the frenzy.

There was something different, something unusual that Azriel could sense that made him feel uneasy, but not on edge. It bothered him, however, as your eyes fluttered open and you shifted your body to face your mate, it hit him. Well, your scent hit him. Before, the room smelled of the previous night’s activities, but with your change in position, he could now make out that your scent has changed. It was subtle, but the slight sweetness in the air was all that was needed to figure out what was so strange. 

Azriel’s face was the first thing you saw as you woke up. Despite being able to mask how he’s feeling extremely well, his slightly widened eyes, along with the millions of thoughts running rampant behind them, were all telltale signs that he was in shock. 

You hum curiously before speaking.

“What is it?” you question while reaching up to cup the side of his face, rubbing your thumb along his cheek. You could feel the coolness of his shadows brushing all over your body, it was comforting yet slightly unusual to wake up to. 

“You're pregnant.” 

Sitting up suddenly, as if a bucket of ice water had been spilt on you, you look at him bewildered.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

A grin filled with pure joy took over his face as he answered you once again. 

“You’re pregnant.”

All you could feel was disbelief and elation. You could now tell that your scent was different and all you could do was look at your husband, your mate, incredulously. His deep laugh fills the room, only further showing his happiness. You beam at him as he lifts you in his arms and settles you on his lap. His bare skin felt warm against yours, and the chill that continued to brush over you from the shadows felt perfect against you. The only time you’ve felt this overjoyed was when you found out you were mated to Azriel. You brush your lips against his as he cups your face, brushing away the tears you didn’t know were falling. 

You knew things were going to change from that point on. You knew how male got when their mate was pregnant, how protective they became. You saw first hand when Feyre was pregnant with Nyx, she could never move more than a few feet away before Rhys was next to her once again, and if a stranger came up to her, everyone could feel the power he unleashed to get them away. Rhys had mentioned it was similar to how males are after first being mated, but also said that that is nothing compared to how protective he felt of his mate carrying his child. 

You knew that this was only the beginning of troubles you would face. But at this point in time, wrapped in one another’s embrace, tenderly kissing tears of joy off each other's face while the morning light poured in, all you could feel was euphoria. 

[kaleldobrev]

Prologue — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester & Unnamed Hunter Boyfriend (OC)

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Chapter Word Count: 1.5k

Chapter Warnings: Age Gap (15 years) & Self-Loathing Dean

Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | Thoughts are in italics | Switches between reader & Dean's POV but it's still written in the second person | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

Dean sat on the edge of his bed looking at his surroundings that he hadn’t seen in so long. Although it’s only been a few months, it felt like an eternity to him. Everything was still in the exact same place he had left it; and he wasn’t sure if he should be relieved about that or not.

Being in his bedroom back in the Bunker came with a wide variety of emotions. He was happy to be back in a place that he had called home for the past several years, a place where he was finally able to have his own room again since he was four years old. But yet, there was another part of him that wanted to take his keys and drive off somewhere. He loved Sam, he loved Cas but, it was hard to face them again after everything he had done, and after everything he had put them through. Not only during the months he was gone, but during the short amount of time they were trying to cure him of a disease he strangely enjoyed.

“You weren’t you,” Sam had told him repeatedly as if he was a broken record. But Dean didn’t believe his words for a second. He enjoyed being a demon more than he liked to admit. Being able to kill whoever he wanted whenever he wanted without consequence fueled him. Being able to fuel the Mark was easy, being a demon was easy. Being a demon weirdly came natural to him.

Sitting at your desk, you endlessly scrolled through news story after news story, trying to find any excuse to leave your apartment, as it was a place that was currently not giving you the usual sense of peace it tended to provide you. Your apartment was usually your safe space, a place that you could relax and unwind in after a tough hunt. But ever since your boyfriend moved in, it had become a place that you no longer felt safe and calm in.

You and your boyfriend hadn't been together for that long — roughly a year — but during a majority of your relationship, it has been argument after argument, and the arguments were always about the same couple of things. He was either disrespecting you or upset that you didn't bring him along on one of your hunting trips.

He hadn't been a hunter for long — barely two years — and you met him within his first year. You had met him while on a werewolf case, as the two of you found the same lead and decided to work together since he really had no experience with werewolves. For some reason, the two of you clicked, and had been together ever since.

Whenever you and him tended to get into an argument, you wondered why you were still with him, knowing that you could do better. He didn't treat you right, and often undermined you in front of other hunters, sometimes taking credit for your own hunts. You tried to rationalize it, often saying that he was the best you were ever going to do because there was no way you could be with someone that wasn't a hunter, as you felt being with someone that wasn't one would put them in more harm, and you couldn't risk it. But the words of your mother started echoing in your head now, "It's better to be alone than to be with someone who disrespects you." You knew she was right; she was always right.

As you were about to give up, a news story finally jumped out at you, and it screamed poltergeist — your specialty.

Dean stared up at the ceiling, wanting more than anything to fall asleep; but the events of the last few months kept replaying in his head. "You weren't you," Sam's words repeated again and again.

No matter how many times Sam's words repeated, Dean still refused to believe it, as when he was a demon, he felt more like himself than he had been in such a long time; and that scared him.

The things that he did as a demon he would have done regardless; but the only reason he did the things that he did was because he knew there were no consequences, his conscience wasn't trying to stop him. Sam or Cas weren't there to stop him especially.

The Mark started itching again, getting hot with need. I need to kill something, he thought.

Getting off the phone with you, Sam sighed, looking at his slinged arm. There was no way he was going to be able to help you with this case, but it was far too late to call you back now; not after he already agreed to help you. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint you, as you were a big help to him while Dean was gone.

Sam was impressed by you to say the least, as despite your age, you were a damn good hunter with a decent amount of experience under your belt. He hadn't known you for very long — meeting you within the last couple of months — but you had quickly become someone he had grown to deeply trust; and he was incredibly thankful for that, and thankful for you.

Placing his phone back into his pocket, he grabbed his duffel bag and started packing some of the essentials. The case you asked him to join you on was one that was pretty straightforward, so he assumed it wouldn't take more than a couple of days. That's when his mind started to wander, wondering why you had asked for his help in the first place, as poltergeists were one of your specialties and it was the type of case that you could do in your sleep, but yet, you asked him for help.

Closing up your laptop, you grabbed it bringing it over to your bed, before going underneath it and grabbing your duffel. You started packing all of the essentials for a case that would only take you a couple of days. The case was an easy one, one that you could easily do in your sleep, but yet, you called Sam Winchester to help you. There was a small twinge of regret after you got off the phone with him, and you debated back and forth as you packed to call him back up again and tell him, 'Never mind, I got this Sammy.' But deep down, you wanted the company; you wanted to be with someone that treated you like an equal unlike your boyfriend.

"Going on a case?" Your boyfriend asked from behind you.

You turned to look at him for a moment, and he was leaning against the doorway, staring at you as you packed. "Yes," you said, plainly. Even if you weren't going on a case, you felt like you didn't need to explain anything to him.

"Where's the case? I can join you," he offered. But his offer wasn't a genuine one, as the only reason he offered to go with you was to try and make up the argument to you in some way. But you weren't in the mood for any of his gestures.

"Tulsa," you said. "I already called another hunter to help me."

"What hunter?" He asked, making his way to the bed so he could sit down on the edge like he usually did whenever you were attempting to pack for a case.

You looked at him again, annoyed that he kept interrupting your packing. He didn't need to know what hunter was going with you, and he didn't know where the case was going to be. But yet, you felt like you needed to tell him in order to get him off your back. "Sam Winchester," you said simply, and you saw his eyes grow wide.

"Sam Winchester?" He questioned. "Really?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with Sam Winchester?" You asked, curious as to what he had to say about him, as you knew he had never met him. But there were times when you and him would be spending time with fellow hunters, and he would claim that he knew Sam; a bold statement that, whenever said, you tried to hold back a laugh.

“Nothing it’s just…the Winchester’s tend to get a lot of their partners killed,” he said. Your brows furrowed, not only because you were confused on where he heard that, but you’ve hunted with Sam a few times already, and your boyfriend never brought that up to you before.

“I’ve hunted with Sam a few times now, and I’m still alive,” you said, zippering up your duffel. “He’s a great hunting partner, very careful.”

“For now, you’re alive and for now he’s being careful. What happens when he bails on you to save himself?” Your boyfriend asked, his tone excitable now.

“I don’t know because I know for a fact that won’t happen,” your tone was serious and stern, defensive. Despite not knowing Sam for a long time, you trusted him more on hunts than your own boyfriend. “I trust Sam.”

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 1

Tag List: | @roseblue373 | @snakebxtez | @deanwanddamons | @missy420-0 | @hannahisthebanana | @madzzz0797 | @livingordeadwhoknows | @grx-deanslovr | @nancymcl | @jacklesbrainworms | @savagemickey03 | @deanbrainrotwritings | @rachiem4-blog | @syrma-sensei | @justletmereadfanfic | @deans-daydream | @midorimachisenpaii | @anamiad00msday | @beansproutmafia | @queenie32 | @deansbbyx | @deans-spinster-witch | @ficmesideways | @frozenhuntress67 | @coldspoons | @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden | @androah | @zulema222 | @k-l-a-w-s | @the-achievementhunter | @k-slla | @mrlonelycat | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @ladysparkles78 | @jackles010378 | @zepskies | @mrsjenniferwinchester | @globetrotter28 | @missscarlettangel | @foxyjwls007

[xreaderanonaccount]

Fatui Harbinger x GN!Reader Headcannon

Ships: Fatui Harbingers (minus Pucinella and Sandrone) x reader (poly)

Synopsis: What's it like being the Feared Fatui Harbingers darling?

Tags: Fluff, Crack, hugging, kissing, hand-holding

A/N: Just some random thoughts. I honestly think Sandrone would not have a S/O cause of her lore and how crazy she is. And Pucinella is just an old man.. hey not judging if that's your type. Just not mine

Divider credits: cafekitsune

Dating all the Fatui Harbingers is a full time job, not only are you being showered with Mora and gifts from some of the richest people in Teyvat you deal with all their petty drama.

Like a mother to all your boyfriends and girlfriends.

They come barging into your room ranting about what the other harbingers have done. How they “ruined” their plans. 

This mainly comes from Dottore and Pantalone. Sometimes one will come into the room and start ranting while the other is close behind. 

Pierro, Columbina, Arlecchino, and Capitano are the tamer of the bunch. If you need peace and quiet from the drama you go to them. They’ll shower you with kisses and treats to make you feel better.

But don’t get me wrong the other half would absolutely shower you with love… in their own weird twisted fates. 

Like dottore wouldn’t experiment on you but will weirdly give you a still beating heart claiming his undying love for you. 

Tartaglia would train you to fight because he wants you to fend for yourself (and to also spar with him much to Capitano’s dismay) 

During the fatui meetings they would have a special room setup for you with a little place to relax. 

And as soon as the meeting ends it’s kind of like school lunch where kids would run so fast to the lunchroom to be first in line. Like that but in a more calm manner. 

Except for Childe

He would be that kid that would run straight to the lunchroom. He would burst through the room scaring you to death yelling “BABE!” 

He would engulf you in a bear hug

It would take Capitano to take him off of you by how tight of a hold he has on you.

Dates with the Harbingers is always fun, whatever you want to do they would absolutely provide.

Want to go to an Opera? Pantalone has VIP tickets to the latest popular show.

Want to eat at a fancy restruant? Arlecchino reserved a whole restruant in Fontaine.

Want to just relax and read? Columbina would cuddle with you as she reads you a book

Want a nice stroll in the stormy winter? Capitano will walking with you, and he'll make sure you'll have his thick fluffy jacket swamping you.

Kisses are always fun, the variety of kisses you would recieve varies from mood and who is giving you the kiss.

Capitano and Pierro is always so soft and gentle, he's a big man and he doesn't want to hurt you. His lips always ghosting your skin, milimeters away from your lips. His giant bear hands gently cupping your face as he plants a gentle kiss.

The exact opposite of Dottore, that man will straight up bite you with his shark teeth.

Your lips will be bloodly and bruise when he's done with you. He's rough when he's kisses you.

He would forcefully grab your face with one hand and shove his lips on you. He wouldn't give a romantic kiss, never. But it's always one of greed and tension.

He's got some pent up anger he needs to release. And that just so happens to be your mouth.

Arlecchino is soft...ish. She would be soft but part of her would spice it up with fun.

Loves teasing you she would pretend like she was going to kiss you and but then suddenly pull away. Saying something like "oh someone needs me." Always has a shit eating grin on her face when she makes up some bull excuse.

Columbina and Childe is always a gamble, it would either be soft and tender or chaotic and rough. Really depends on what they are feeling.

Unless it's infront of his family, Childe would be all lovey dovey infront of his family. But would absolutely tease you when they're not looking

Pantalone is a no PDA guy in public except for his arm sling around your waist. Other than that kisses are only for the most intimate moments. When it's just you two, and no one else to disrupte them.

[c0smoshit]

Heyyy!

Was wondering if I could request a Cloud x reader? Where basically reader is playing Mario Party w/ Tifa, Jessie, Aerith and he’s sitting and watching but after a few hours of it wants to just go snuggle and read some books in bed w/ reader, so that’s what he does?

Ty in advance and sending hugs!

This is so cute!!

Thanks for the req and hugs to u too🫶🫶

Touch-starved kid ミ★

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ≫ Cloud Strife/Reader

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ fluff, very much fluff, cuddly and touch-starved Cloud

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 ≫ 1.300

"Noo!"

A loud whine emerged from Jessie's mouth, Peach had crashed against a green shell. Low chuckles could be heard from both Aerith and your mouth, she was always so competitive.

Silence fell once again in the room, concentrated faces matched with a bored one from a blonde, watching the TV.

You had been playing for almost two hours now, Aerith whining about how she had to beat you the next game. Tifa on the other hand, silently won half of the matches, earning some muttered out curses from the rest of you.

"You don't wanna play Cloud?"

A hushed groan left his lips, staring down at you from his seated position. You had offered him the space next to you, but Jessie was quick enough to steal it.

And you didn't mind, Jessie was actually a sweetheart with you. She often gave you advice of boys, how to read if they were into you or not.

And it weirdly worked with him.

The other brunnete's arm sneaked into your shoulder, bringing you down to the planet. You stared back at her face and then at the screen, your hands still holding the controller.

"Where are you going y/n?"

Red eyes stared confusedly at you as you got rid of the arm that trapped you into a warm embrace. You wanted to stay for a bit, playing with them was always so fun after stressful weeks.

However, your body noticed the lack of coldness in the corner of the room.

"I'll be back soon, I'm going... to the bathroom yeah"

A few more snickers lingered in the room before some quiet yelps and curses filled it once again.

Your socks touched the cold, winter floor, eyes searching around for a grumpy blonde. The hall was dimly-lighted, some cute flowers resting on top of a wooden table.

But that adorable little moment turned into a frenzy one as some arms wrapped themselves around your middle part. Your yell was muffled by a gloved hand, his chest being the first thing that made you realise who was holding you.

"Cloud!"

His hand then left your mouth, chin making contact with the crown of your hair. Your hands grabbed his forearms, letting out a breathy sigh.

"Don't scare me like that you idiot"

You could feel a little smirk burning into his face, arms tightening around your waist as he guided you through the house.

. . .

"What's got you so clingy hmm?"

"You"

His voice was muffled by your chest, head tilted to the right as he laid on top of you. His arms were both bellow your back, not caring if he got cramps thanks to it.

He looked so peaceful, a child who only lived fueled by your arms and warm body.

Your back rested on the fluffy pillows behind you, knees appart as his stomach rested on your lap. Your feet rested by his sides and your hands softly caressed his locks.

You looked outside the window, it was currently winter and you felt a scorching warmth enveloping your insides. You felt so cozy and calm on the warm mattress, but his body on top of you multiplied those feelings.

His touch was featherlike, always managing to boost your mood whenever you were mad at him.

You couldn't have a proper argument with him, no matter how hard you tried to distance yourself from him, yell at him. His hands were always soothing your back.

"Hold on, I'll be back"

But his arms trapped you further into the mattress, not letting you slip off his embrace so easily. His body weight was all resting on top of you like it would always do whenever he was feeling down or tired and you were there with him.

A few more silent whines left his mouth when you, struggling, got his arms finally off you and planted your feet back on the wooden floor.

You gave his saddened face a pleading smile before you dissapeared once again into the hall.

If you were a stranger and looked at him in the eye, you would've thought that boy was cold.

But in reality, he was just a touch-starved kid.

Your fingertips grazed a bookshelf, pupils trying to find a red book surrounded by colorful books Aerith liked to read. You enjoyed meeting up with her and talking about flowers, forgetting just for a few minutes what was happening in the planet.

She knew everything about them, her tone changing whenever she talked to you about tulips or roses.

She was the whiff of fresh air you needed in a polluted city.

Subconciously you smiled at those memories, you loved spending time with her and the girls. A relief from work and the tasks you had to do through the day, soothing hands that massaged your warm shoulders after an stressful journey.

You wouldn't know where you'd be right now without them.

You let out an audible sigh as your hands caressed the soft cover of your favourite book. You liked the smell of fresh books, reading them while you stayed up at night.

With your new friend, you walked your way back into the room, ready to cuddle for as long as he pleased.

However, when you opened the door again, he wasn't laying down on the bed, instead, he was waiting for you the way you were laying on the pillows earlier.

And before you could even mutter out a "Hi" his arms were all over you again, dragging you down to his chest. You took his seat now, your hair sprawled out on his chest and shoulders as your book ended up falling on your lap.

You giggled, happiness filling up his sore brain, he adored your little chuckles. Readjusting yourself on his lap, you two were now sat on the bed, his bigger legs enveloped your closed ones, side by side.

You couldn't even hide the big, pleasured grin that was now placed on your sweet lips.

Did a huge, cuddly dog swaped bodies with Cloud?

Well, you didn't mind if he actually did, you were more than happy to see this secret facade. Maybe if life would let you have more alone time with him you wouldn't need to seek out his warmth in cold, lonely afternoons.

You both were quiet, consumed by the endless words in front of you as he leant his nose further into your hair. He would never say it out loud, but you had him crazy for you just by your sweet scent.

The first thing that woke up his brain whenever you walked into a room, whenever you washed the dishes with him.

Then your calm tone would envelope his eardrums, it always soothed him down.

And finally your adorable eyes, eyelashes batting so cutely at him, blinking whenever you were confused.

You sinked deeper into the pleasant but icy night, the words now seemed to be blurred out. Your eyelids grew heavy and the grip you had on the book softened, a car passed by.

When your limbs appeared to weigh more, he took the book from your lap, smiling when your hands didn't take it away from him. You had fallen asleep on top of him, was his body that comfortable?

It sure was, although he didn't seem to in most people's eyes, he was really strong. The muscles he packed bellow his skin were the perfect pillow, his arms the best blanket.

Your personal warm tent.

Eventually his eyes closed themselves too, breathing slowing itself down as his head lolled into your own one. You both looked so cute right now, not noticing the door creaking and some small giggles following behind.

[nastyaromatherapy]

virgin ethan finally deciding to loose his virginity to reader, who he'd been dating for months now. knows shes the one who he wants to spend the rest of his life with...just super sweet smut with subby ethan and reader practically spoiling him. maybe even some aftercare at the end? hes soso greatful </3 MAYBE could take place on their first valentine's day too...

i need this boy rn

Valentine's Day (18+)

Taking Ethan's virginity on valentine's day.

pairing - virgin!Ethan Landry x fem!reader

idek what this is, js enjoy it

one shot length, 1.5k+ word fic

warnings: oral and PIV with protection, weirdly fluffy, rlly rushed

The loose powder spilled everywhere, making you groan to pick it up. It was the half way marker of your makeup routine, the same one you did for date nights with Ethan. You'd been dating him for about six months, and this would be the two of you's first valentines day together.

The boyfriend effect really affected you. After getting with Ethan you didn't invest as much time or effort into your looks because he didn't care. He always thought you looked gorgeous no matter what. For dates however, you always wanted to spend extra time looking good, especially on holidays like this.

As you swept the powder off the floor with your hands, you wondered what Ethan had in store for tonight. Would he buy you flowers? A new dress?

Flowers.

You ran into Ethan's arms at the park you decided to meet up at, his forearm extending so you didn't crush the bouquet in his hands. The fragrance of your shampoo invaded his sinuses, and he chuckled at the sent he purchased for you. “Happy valentine's day,” he softly spoke after pulling away from the embrace, sheepishly handing you the roses.

You stood on your toes to sweetly peck his lips before landing back on your heels, taking the arrangement of flora in your hands. “Thank you, Eth,” you said, smiling gently at the boy.

“Where do you wanna eat? I heard the new pastry place that opened up was good.” You nodded, liking the idea. “Donuts sound really good,” you beamed.

Donuts.

Ethan wiped the jelly and powder off your lips with his thumb, and when it didn't come off, he licked a napkin and started to scrub your face. “Ethan, gross!” You giggled jokingly, grateful for his affectionate gesture.

“This place is good,” he nodded, biting into his éclair. You agreed and leaned back onto his lap, laying in the grass at the park. The ambience was calm and peaceful. You wanted to lay at that park till nightfall, till the moon reflected in the lake and the street lamps turned on.

Until then, you and Ethan strolled around the streets, talking, drinking random drinks from places you'd never heard of. You walked in your ballet flats and sun dress, goosebumps painting the skin of your legs.

“Cold?” He asked with a chuckle, making you slap his upper arm. “Yeah,” you responded, clinging onto his arm for extra warmth. “We can go home. Actually I wanted to ask you about something.” You stopped your walking and turned to him. “What is it?” He brushed you off, “I'll tell you later.”

Once back at your place, you collapsed on the couch after kicking off your shoes, Ethan following closely behind. "So.. what was it you wanted to tell me?" You asked him. He inhaled, a little nervous, before sitting next to you. “I- you know how I'm a virgin, right?” He asked you to which you nodded in return. “I was wondering if, if you wanted to take my virginity tonight?” He asked just barely above a whisper, making your eyes open up wide like saucers.

“Ethan,” you cooed, your hand finding its way to his knee. “I'd love too.” He softly exhaled as he was holding his breath. His eyes looked up to yours as you climbed onto his lap, your hands behind his neck. You tilted your head before leaning down to interlock your lips with his as you rolled your hips against him. He groaned at the unfamiliar sensation, hands shifting from your hips, thighs, ass, and waist, not knowing where to leave them.

You giggled before pulling away and grabbing his hands to rest on your ass, letting him know he could grope it through your dress. Small grunts continued to leave his lips as you grinded against him. “I'll take care of you,” you whispered into his ear, pink from his fluster.

You climbed off of his lap and reached for your purse on the other cushion. You pulled out a condom, strawberry flavored of course, and left it in your left hand as you unzipped his jeans with your right. His breath hitched when your palm grazed his slowly growing erection through his boxers, only getting larger by your touch.

“Has a girl even touched you like this before?” You asked, looking up at him to meet his eyes. He shook his head, mostly silent to focus on what was happening to him. You kissed a line up his fabric covered shaft causing him to let out a moan, before you stuck your hand past the waistband into his boxers to release his cock. Your eyes lit up at his size, “God you're perfect,” you didn't mean to mutter aloud.

A flush flooded his cheeks from your compliment, and he bucked his hips into your touch as you started to roll the condom onto him, fitting him snug. “Thank you,” he whispered, thankful for your words and eagerness to take him.

You wrapped your fist around his base, not too tight, slowly stroking him. He whimpered when you licked a stripe up his shaft, before wrapping your lips around the head. He closed his eyes, still getting used to the feeling, but when he opened them, he didn't ever want to close them, not even for a blink, again.

He watched as you were happy to please him, pink nails wrapped around his base with another set on his thigh. Your eyes were cast with a red tint as they teared, your sinuses getting clogged. He continued to squirm from the sensation of the blowjob, which he's never experienced. The strawberry taste invaded your palate, only making it more blissful. He was soon a whimpering mess which you found cute, he hasn't even felt your cunt yet.

You pressed your thighs together and moaned onto his cock, growing more aroused by each sound he let loose. You pulled off of him, a trail of saliva stringing off your lips, before pulling your dress over your head, revealing your uncovered tits. His cock twitched at the sight, and you saw how some of the tip of the condom was already bubbling with precum. He whined at the prolonged seconds without your mouth around him.

You climbed onto his lap once more, only in your Brandy panties. “Please,” he begged, wanting to be inside you so badly. “Patience, Eth,” you spoke. You reached up his shirt, caressing his stomach, before helping him pull it off over his head, exposing his toned chest. You quickly slid your panties down to your ankles, eager to take him.

His eyes shut as he muttered “fuck, fuck, fuck's,” when you rubbed his tip against your wet folds. If this was a dream, he didn't want to wake up. “Oh,” you gasped when you poked the tip into your entrance, before fully sitting on him. He arched his back as your walls clamped around him, voice cracking into your ear.

“That okay?” You asked breathily. In response he nodded. “Please keep going,” he begged. You laid your hands on his chest as you bounced on his cock, mouth agape as pretty sounds erupted out. As you rode his sensitive cock, tears welled in his eyes from the intensity. He whimpered excessively as his hand found their way to your waist and breast, lightly squeezing it.

You gasped, mouth shaping into an o as he grasped your tit, making you clench around him just a bit tighter. When he noticed the correlation he continued to massage your breasts, loving the way your walls wrapped around his cock. “You're so tight,” he grunted through gritted teeth.

“Eth, try fucking me,” you taught. You lifted yourself up slightly and laid your hands on his slender shoulders. “Just thrust up- shit!” You cried when he quickly caught on and started plowing into you. “Fuck Ethan, you're gonna make me cum,” you whined into his ear as he fucked your cunt, chest heaving against yours.

He started huffing, biting his lip as he concentrated on his movements. “Fuck, oh fuck I'm gonna cum,” he groaned, leaving you little time to react before burying himself into you and releasing into the condom. Acting quickly, wanting to finish as well, your finger pads made contact with your clit, rubbing circles around it. You moaned as your pussy spasmed, finishing on his softening cock.

He quickly pulled out while holding on the base, and you helped him to remove the condom, leaving it on the coffee table to be cleaned later. You let your head rest in the crook of his neck, heavily breathing together. “Did- did you cum?” He asked after catching his breath, a rookie question. “Yeah,” you panted.

You sniffed in the musky scent of his neck, growing tired on his lap. “Thank you, y/n, that felt so good.” You sighed, “You did so good.” You cupped one of his cheeks and kissed his jawline before speaking, “How's that for a valentine's day gift?” You chuckled against his collar bone. He smiled and wrapped him arm around your waist, pulling you in close. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I love you so much,” he admitted, kissing your head lightly. “I love you too, E.”

[d-kee]

thinking about the cat king and edwin being in a relationship for reals and cat king is so pathetically in love but doesn’t want to scare edwin off because EVERYTHING is his first time so he does that slow blink three times that cats do to express how calm and at peace and safe they feel and edwin kind of just looks at him weirdly like “is there something in ur eye??” no you FOOL the king of cats is just in love with ur repressed ass