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luveline · 7 months ago

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Heyyyy can you do a Hotch x reader where readers just kinda been down all day but doesn’t wanna tell Hotch because she’s kinda used to being the badass with all her walls up? And hotch kinda pulls her to the side and forces it out of her 😊😊

thank you for requesting!! fem, 1.2k

Hotch has dark hair. He’s an older guy but he’s yet to grey, hair like the strands are soaked with coal pitch, even darker under the office lights. He braces his hand on the desk and ducks toward Spencer’s computer screen, pointing at a corner with patience.

“This one,” Hotch says.

“Why would they organise it like this?” Spencer asks, his voice bordering incredulous.

“I’m not sure. You’ll remember where this is?”

“Do you usually have to tell me more than once?” Spencer says lightly.

“Ask your licence to carry.”

You’d laugh, his wit quick and poor Spencer a good sport, but your head feels heavy with a forming upset. Like your mind has turned to thick porridge. You woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but you don’t feel angry, more magnificently empty. Nothing is touching beyond your surface level.

“Thank you, sir,” Spencer says.

You ignore the weight of a gaze on you while you click through your emails, prioritising what needs to be answered before the end of the day, the end of the week, and the end of the month as Hotch taught you to. You double click an email chain from a consult you’d been assigned from out of state and reread your response, nervous that your lack of confidence today might have shone through blunt wording. Hotch is looped into the chain —he can correct any glaring errors should you have made them.

“Hey,” Hotch says when you don’t look up. He doesn’t use your name, and he doesn’t need to. “I’d like to talk to you. Let’s go up to my office.”

“Can I have a half hour to work through my emails?” you ask apologetically.

“I’d prefer we talk now. Any overdue reply can be blamed on me,” he says.

The way he talks is natural to him but perhaps strange if it were another person, with another disposition. You know Hotch to be both gentle and stern at once. His tone leaves little room for debate, but it reassures you to hear the measured cadence of each word without rush. The openness of his expression is similarly comforting, and though he doesn’t know it —you would never own up to feeling this way, verbally or physically— you’d quite like to be comforted by him. Even if he takes you to the office to reprimand you, you’ll at least have been near him for long enough to forget your odd aching.

Hotch doesn’t walk until you do, taking each step by side until he gets to the office, where he opens the door to encourage you in.

You drift a few feet inward, shoes soft on clean, crisp carpeting. Hotch closes the door, where he stands momentarily, silence held.

“Everything okay?” you ask.

Hotch pulls out one of the two black chairs in front of his desk and gestures for you to sit. “Everything’s okay,” he says, standing back to give you space to sit, his hand moving to rest on the back of the chair as you sit. It whines as you shift to see him. “With me, everything’s okay. How about you?”

“Everything’s fine with me.”

You’d pad your explanation out if you didn’t think he was about to tell you what you’re in the brig for. No one likes a nervous Nelly.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

You glance at his hand behind you and he moves it swiftly. “Hotch?” you ask tentatively.

“I’ve noticed you aren’t yourself today.”

“I’m completely myself.”

“It’s not like you to stare into space.” He frowns. “I want to sit down because I don’t like towering over you, but I don’t want you to internalise this as a meeting.”

“You’re not towering over me, Hotch.

His frown doesn’t ebb. “…We each have our own unique levy to carry the weight of, I know that. But it’s not… nice, to see you like this. I’d like to know what’s wrong.”

Again, no nonsense and reassuring at once.

Maybe he is towering a little. You avert your gaze from his, feeling uncharacteristically meek for a weak moment.

“I think I woke up mixed up,” you confess eventually, picking at a stray thread on your skirt until the tips of your fingers burn. “Like, nothing happened to upset me, but I…”

“You do feel upset.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“You’re not sure why?”

“Not really. I think that–” You lick your lips nervously, not finding the right words, wanting to be vulnerable and simultaneously reluctant to show him anything he might not like. “I think it’s lots of smaller things and they’re layering on top of each other. Do you get that?”

“All the time. Though usually my way of dealing with it is less pleasant for others.” He looks down at you steadily. “And yours,” —he aims enough fondness at you to stop your heart— “is self-contained. But I don't want you to think you’re walking through life unseen.”

“Unseen,” you repeat.

He stands very still. “Can I touch your face?” he asks quietly.

You don’t know why he’d ask, but you say, “Yes, please.”

“Please,” he says. You’re repeating each other. The air in the room feels thicker as he lifts his hand to your cheek and cups it gently. “When you’re upset, I notice. I can’t help but notice.” Your face lists into his palm slowly, worried he’ll move, but he holds you and he watches you with care. “Is there anything I can do to make it all feel better?”

“I don’t think so.”

He rubs your cheek with his thumb. “No?”

You close your eyes. “No,” you say, matching his volume.

“I don’t know what to do now,” he murmurs.

“Sorry, I’m okay,” you say, asking yourself to move away from his touch, but unable to force it, “I’m gonna…”

It’s a boundary crossed, but you and Hotch are good at that. He’s constantly treating you with more sweetness than a boss should show toward his employee, and you eat it up despite every instinct in you that says you shouldn’t. So you won’t tell him you’ve had a bad day until he asks, and even then, you have nothing permanent to offer him for fixing, and still he’ll hold your face and make it feel ordinary. Like he’s touched you a hundred times, something about it feels right, and real. Your cheek feels softer under his tracing thumb. You could fall asleep in his hands.

“How can I make you feel better?” he asks again.

“It’s not that bad.”

“But what can I do?”

You want to ask for a hug, but even the idea of it is too much to think about. Miss Independent admitting she needs more than this? When it’s already more than you should have?

Profilers profile, and somehow you give yourself away.

“Come on,” he says softly.

He hugs you. His hand falls from your face to your shoulder, wrapping behind it, encompassing you in a strong arm as he bends down to embrace you fully.

“I wish you’d ask for more,” he says, his free arm slinking between your arm and side, hand to your back, encouraging you to hug him back.

You don’t know what to do with your arms. Each movement feels stilted, but Hotch makes up for it. He hugs you without inhibition, like he’s wanted to do it for a long, long time.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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charliemwrites · 8 months ago

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For @ceilidho who expressed mild interest in possessed Simon from my upcoming projects post - here are some of the concepts I’m thinking of:

-reader is a childhood friend, but they only got married after his family died (hence why she’s still alive)

-it’s not a Bad marriage, but… it’s not an ideal one. Simon’s really just not very present but he tries… kinda…

-the new house is supposed to be a fresh start

-Simon is about as sensitive to supernatural things as a stack of bricks, but reader just feels so… hypnotized?

-move in is full of odd coincidences. Dropped boxes, fallen plates, things rolling into odd corners so that reader has to bend and contort herself to get them

-Simon starts having strange nightmares, not the usual ones

-meanwhile reader is having the Wettest dreams she’s had in her life

-Simon starts acting Odd. Well, odder than usual. Reader can tell of course, as a doting wife, but he’s as closed off as ever.

-but he does start being more active. Cooking dinner, snatching her up for kisses, dragging her down for snuggles. Makes her talk and talk and talk, staring at her Very Intensely

-the physical changes start happening very gradually. But he’s getting bigger, and stronger, his voice lowering and roughening. So so slowly she doesn’t notice it’s happening for a very long time

-until one day she realizes that…. her husband is practically a whole new person….

#thoughts™️#cod #possessed!simon au

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ohhiimweird · 20 days ago

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Looking out the Window

In which Sunday learns about your favorite view on the express, but he's a little distracted

Character: Sunday

Reader Pronouns: They/them

Other Tags: Sunday is on the express, Post-2.7, 2.7 spoilers, Sunday is hardcore pining and it's kinda cringe

Sunday has never been without the crumbling pressure of responsibility on his shoulders. It's been happening ever since he was a child. That might've been why it's so hard for Sunday to adjust to being aboard the Astral Express. Of course, there were duties the passengers attended to. However, they were more like banal chores than actual duties. Sunday was a family head, though. Perhaps he shouldn't demand much more. He was merely glad that everyone on the express let him join them, even after all that he's done. It's also why Sunday couldn't seem to fall asleep for three days straight.

He wasn't sure why he went to the parlor car tonight. In the back of his mind, there was the thought of needing a change of scenery. That's where he found you staring out the huge window of the astral express. It was about the size of a wall.

The first time he saw you was at the Reverie Hotel. He knew then that you were beautiful. There was a blatant curiosity in your eyes that captivated the man. It as only a look you both shared in that moment. Words were not needed, not to Sunday.

You gave him that same look when you noticed shim in the parlor car. Sunday stopped in his tracks. Your gaze wasn't malicious, yet it felt like he was caught doing something bad.

"Can't sleep either, huh?" you asked. Your smile was so warm and inviting in the low light.

"I-I" Sunday covered up his stutter with a cough. "I suppose so. I thought merely a change of scenery would help me relax."

Sunday kept his distance, merely staring out the window, wondering what in particular you were looking at. There had to be something interesting in this sea of stars before you.

"Come on. Sit," you patted the seat next to you. "I'm not gonna bite."

Sunday hesitated. His heart jumped in his chest. Then, he decided to sit next to you. This is the closest he'd ever gotten to you physically. Wow. He was sitting next to you. It gave his spine chills without even meaning to.

"This is my favorite view on the express," you said. "I always come out here when I can't sleep. There are so many stars, planets, and galaxies out there, and we haven't gone to them yet. It changes with every stop too, so there's always new scenery."

Sunday glanced out the window. Right now, you are looking at Penacony from the outside. It's odd seeing his home planet from this angle. Never in a million years did he think he'd travel outside of Penacony. He wasn't like Robin, who had such a yearning for the stars, wanting to sing her songs for the whole universe. Right now, Sunday was at the threshold of home and something alien to him. He looked away, not wanting to be reminded of the home he lost and the sister he disappointed. Instead, he focuses on your beauty, your eyes lighting up from seeing the stars.

"Yes, it's quite beautiful," Sunday said while looking at you. He didn't want to offend you by saying it, but he was more captivated by your appearance than by the stars. Their radiance could not compare to you.

"Hey, you're not even looking," you huffed.

"I'm sorry. I got a bit distracted," Sunday said. "I found an even better view."

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #sunday #sunday hsr #sunday x reader

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youraverageaemondsimp · 2 months ago

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A chance for salvation. // WitchHunter!Aemond Targaryen x Witch!Reader

Halloween Special 🎃

DD:DNE ; DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT.

Summary: being a witch, there was someone who you've avoided after the rise of witch hunts, Aemond Targaryen who was the leader of the hunt, you thought you had avoided him successfully until— well, he catches you.

WARNINGS: NONCON/DUBCON, dark fic, mdni, smut, dark romance, enemies to lovers(?), highly religious themes (faith of the seven), slight misogyny, hexing kinda, description of witch hunts and trials, tiddy sucking, unprotected p in v sex, dacryphilia(?), body betrayal, mind betrayal, breeding kink, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing, reader is helpless, aemond is narcissistic as fuck, asshole aemond, hatred against witches. + not proofread.

WC: 3.3k

A/N: this fic contains dark themes and content, if you find it uncomfortable please just scroll away instead of dwelling on this, please do not take the warnings lightly if you cannot stomach it, do not read it, do not interact. With that said, it's been a while since I properly sat down to write and finish a fic so it's a little rusty, don't mind it <3 // divider credits @cafekitsune

The smell of burning flesh penetrated your nose as you scrunched up your face in disgust watching the woman before you burn at stake, her agonising screams echoing throughout the town centre.

“THE WITCH SHALL BURN, THE WITCH SHALL BURN” They all chanted while you stood on the sidelines watching the entire scene take place.

You stared at the man that stood by the burning woman, his posture tall and calm, he didn't react nor did he attempt to put out the fire. Why would he? He was the one that set her ablaze in the first place.

You swallowed a lump in your throat as you watched him, he had gotten another witch, he was very good at hunting them down. A skilled witch hunter one might say.

You knew who he was, why wouldn't you? The witches had to be on the lookout from him, not wishing to cross paths. He might be blind in one eye but he has a very sharp eye, catching witches with just one look.

He was none other than the King's second son, Aemond Targaryen.

For some odd reason, he was out on a mission to hunt down all the witches as they had been spreading very fast, causing havoc and chaos, but he failed to understand one thing.

There were both good witches and bad ones.

It didn't matter to him who were who, you just had to be under the suspicion that you were a witch, you'd be put on trial immediately and once proven guilty, you'd be burnt at the stake.

The once human form began to fall apart on the stake like a melted wax figure, Aemond stood there with a stoic expression before he came down.

“Poor woman,” You heard a woman standing beside you say and you look at her, she was the daughter of a local baker “But she deserved it, she was a witch after all.” She snickered cruelly and you felt nothing but intense disgust towards the woman.

Maybe you'll hex her later onwards, you hated scums like this, the ones who thought they were doing better for the human race, while doing quite the opposite.

You left the scene immediately, travelling back to your cabin that was located deep in the woods before shutting the door tightly and going to the shrine you've set up in your house, praying to the forsaken god to give you power and to protect you from these creatures.

You placed the fabric of the dress torn from the woman who encouraged and celebrated the death of a witch onto a doll before closing your eyes and placing a curse upon her. You pick up a candle.

“Ye will not be able to consume food without consequences. Ye will suffer sickness for a month until you are cured.” You whisper into the ears of the doll circling the doll in the wax that was dripping from the candle before blowing the candle out.

It was the next day, your daily routine consisted of casting spells and creating healing potions for your sickly younger brother that lived in the village, you woke up and grabbed the potion in the vial, putting it in your bag before venturing out into the woods and out to where the civilians lived.

You decided to visit the bakery, to see how the woman is doing, it was surprising to find it closed as you probably knew the reason. The family must be worried sick for their daughter. You shrugged it off before going to the house your brother lived in, you knocked on the door to be greeted by your mother who gave you a hug before she invited you in.

You saw your younger brother, still laying in bed but looking more alive than before. “It's been weeks since you visited us ya know? But your brother has been recovering slowly.” Your mother speaks out and you nod, “The work at the castle is tough, tending to all the sick ones is tiring that I merely have time to visit, they don't give me any time for myself.” You lie. The reason why you hadn't been visiting them was because you were trying to hide from Aemond Targaryen's eye. To avoid it so you don't have the same fate as the other witches.

Your family doesn't know you practise witchcraft either, they believe that you study medicine and make healing nectars which work really well. You give the vial to your mother before sitting down alongside with her, she immediately dilutes it with water before feeding your brother.

“Have you heard? About the witch hunts lately?” You stiffen at the mention of the hunt, “I have heard, Aemond Targaryen, The prince is going around eradicating all the accused.” You reply and your mother shakes her head, “He's humiliating them by burning them alive at the centre of the town each week, I'm surprised at how many women he's catching.” She continues to talk about the hunt which makes you anxious, but just nod along.

You spend some time at your mother's before saying your goodbyes and leaving home, you've decided to stop by a small shop on the way to grab something to eat, you smile at the woman after you've purchased bread and some jam. You carefully hold them in your arms before you continue on your way towards your house.

It seemed as though fate had other plans for you when you reach your house and see a horse waiting outside with a man with platinum blonde hair standing outside. Your eyes widen at realisation.

Aemond Targaryen.

Before you could hide, he looked in your direction, his face stoic and blank. “Do you live here?” He asks, his voice monotone but underlace with malice. You gulp before nodding and making your way near him. “Y-yes my prince, why?” you reply, he just hums looking at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“There seems to be activity of a witch here, may I look inside?” He questions raising an eyebrow, you gulp knowing that if you refuse he'd force himself in anyway, but you can't comply either for there is a shrine of the forsaken inside.

“I-i'm afraid it's a little dirty, I can't allow a prince like you to step inside such a dirty place, shall I clean it up?” You ask, you know how stupid you sound but you'd be willing to try before you are sent to your own death.

He scoffs, “So you can clean your evidence of witchcraft? Do not anger me further woman, open the door now before I have to commit to violence.” He grits his teeth and you nod immediately going over to the door and opening it. He steps inside.

You close your eyes, accepting the end of your life, knowing now he'd just apprehend you and take you to the town centre to burn you. He smirks as the evidence of your activity is revealed, your house is donned in herbs and potions with a big shrine of the forsaken god in between.

“Will you burn me now?” You ask him, looking down at your feet not having the courage to look up at him but he remains silent. Your life is literally at stake right now.

“You prefer to be burned alive or stabbed to death?” He asks, drawing his sword out and you visibly flinch, “Or rather, beg for mercy?” He finishes his question staring down at your form and you close your eyes.

“You won't spare me even if I did, will you?” You didn't know where your boldness came from, asking him such a question.

You yelp when you feel him grab your hair and tilt your head to make you look at him, you look directly into his eye with a slight expression of defiance and he just smiles cruelly. “You're right, I won't.” He chuckles, his grip on your hair becoming tighter; making you wince, his nails digging into your scalp.

“I've had my eye on you for a while, you've been avoiding me.” He reveals and you stare at him wide eyed, “You thought I would not notice? That's how you witches give yourselves away, by avoiding me. If you weren't guilty of a crime, you'd not be afraid to face me.” He mutters. “I've only spared you this long because I knew of your family, a younger brother who is bedridden, a mother who relies on you, you've got responsibilities.” He reveals everything he's learned of you leaving you trembling and terrified, wondering how exactly he found all of this out.

“I have my ways, I indeed have a keen eye.” He answers, noticing your surprised expression. His breath fans your face as he pulls you closer, his grip further tightening in your hair which makes you reflexively reach out your hands towards his, trying to pry his hands off. Tears well up in your eyes knowing that you'd die soon.

“You're an odd witch.” He raises an eyebrow, “Not pleading me for mercy, ready to accept your death? I do not like it.” He tuts. “I do think you have a chance for salvation though, you're not as bad as the other witches or too deep in the craft.” He suddenly lets go of your hair causing you to stumble back.

He puts his sword back in the sheath, his eye takes in your features trailing down your body stopping at the cleavage that was slightly exposed before he swallows a lump in his throat.

“Pretty young too.” He comes nearer, kicking the door shut, like a predator stalking its prey, you try to run but he's quick— grabbing you by your waist and pushing you backwards, causing you to fall down. He gets on top of you, pinning your hands with his hand above your head as he straddles your waist.

“I told you, you can be saved, yet it seems like you want to die.” He speaks annoyed by your attempt at escaping. “Confess your faults and beg for forgiveness, you'll be saved. I won't hurt you.” He lies through his teeth. “P-please let me go—” You beg, your body shaking with the amount of adrenaline surging through your body.

He rolls his eye, using his other hand to grab your throat, choking you harshly, cutting off your air supply. You struggle beneath him, writhing your body as you try to escape his grip.

“Beg for forgiveness woman, I never give any witch a chance to live, you should consider yourself of utmost luck.” He tightens his grip on your throat further making you gasp for air.

With your survival instincts kicking in you gasp before choking out a sentence of forgiveness which makes him immediately let go of your throat. “What did you say?” He asks and you take a gasp for air before uttering the same words again. “F-forgive me, I am sorry.” You plead, making his lips contort into a winning smile.

You watch as he breathes heavily, enjoying the power he holds over you, “Beg, beg harder, plead to me, tell me that you're sorry, maybe then the Gods will forgive you.” He leans down whispering in your ear. You shiver in fear before you do as he says. “I- I am sorry, forgive me, I deeply regret my actions—.”

“Take my name.” He interrupts and you furrow your brows “My prince i—” you begin, “No, no, no. My name.” He cuts you off once again staring at you with a wild eye. You take a deep breath. “I am sorry Aemond, forgive me, I repent my actions.” You go on again and his expression changes to that of a pleased one.

Things fall silent between you both after you begged for forgiveness until he let goes of your hands before getting off your body. You sit up right as he stands up, towering over your body.

“On your knees.” He commands and you look at him confused before you notice the visible bulge in his breeches. You stare up at him wide eyed, knowing where this is going.

“You don't think that you'd be forgiven this easily? I'd have to cleanse your body, your mouth that has chanted prayers to your God, get on your knees and close your eyes. Now.” He threatens you, grabbing his sword which makes you immediately obey. You do as he says, getting on your knees and closing your eyes.

You could hear the shuffle of his clothes before a thud of clothes falling down, then you felt it, something pressed up against your lips, it was wet. “Open your mouth,” He grumbles but you hesitate which makes him forcefully open your mouth by himself. Before you could react; he shoves his cock inside your mouth.

You open your eyes, staring at him in terror as he looks at you with a sadistic expression, “Bite and I'll cut your head off.” He grits his teeth before he grabs your hand and shoves his cock further into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat.

Drool leaks from your mouth, dripping down your chin and neck as he thrusts inside your mouth, using your hair as leverage as he continues his assault in your mouth. Tears stream down your cheek, as you blink them away hoping not to upset him.

He closes his eyes enjoying the pleasure of fucking your mouth, ramming his dick into your mouth at a brutal pace— his balls slapping against your chin. You hold onto his thighs for balance, gripping them tightly, trying to resist his motion but it only further motivates him to gain control.

“Fuck— I'm gonna finish. Keep your mouth wide open.” He pulls out his cock, using his fist to finish himself off. His seed spills on your face and some of it goes into your mouth. “Swallow, it will cleanse you.” He utters expecting you to swallow, and you do; not wanting to anger him.

You hoped that this was the end, that he'd be done with this alone. “Lay on the ground, legs spread.” The command shatters your hope and you stare up at him, shaking your head no.

This angers him, and he forces you down, pushing you hard against the floor, laying you down while grabbing your legs and spreading your legs after hiking your skirt up.

“P-please my prince! Anything but this!” You cry out, pushing against him as he settles himself between your legs. “I need to cleanse you from the inside out, woman. This is very much required.” He grunts, keeping your legs forced open as he lines up his cock against your entrance.

Your eyes widen as you feel him prodding your entrance, before he gently pushes himself, he marvels at the sight of your blood leaking onto his dick “Your maidenhead is still intact? Do you witches take a vow for chastity like Septa's do too?” He mocks before pushing further in.

Your hands shoot up to his shoulders, gripping him tightly while you put in an effort to push him away, yet all of it is deemed futile when he doesn't budge an inch. He lets go of your leg before balancing himself on his arms placed on your sides as he just as quickly moves them to rip off your bodice, revealing your mounds of flesh.

He wastes no time before groping them with his hands, you shriek as he twists and plays with your nipple, leaning in to take your teat into his mouth; all while simultaneously pushing himself gently inside your cunt.

He suckles on your nipple, grazing it with his teeth and swirling his tongue around it, you couldn't help but feel ashamed as you looked at the sight.

The prince of the realm suckling away on your tits.

This sent a shot of thunder down your spine making heat pool between your legs, were you seriously getting aroused by this? You felt guilty as your own body betrayed you, welcoming the intruder into your body by providing the necessary needs.

Aemond pulls away from your breast before focusing on the other one, giving it the same attention as he did to the one before, one of his hands slowly trails down the outline of your waist to your belly before it finds itselfs cupping your heat before he further reaches down to where you both were attached.

He lets out a soft moan of approval when he finds that you're wet; pulling the slick up to where you clitoris is before he rubs small circles upon it. “Mhm, you're so fucking wet down there.” He mutters against your nipple, making you feel even more embarrassed.

Aemond lets out an audible moan when he feels you clench around him, he's now settled in cosily inside you, he lifts himself up and positions himself upright, grabbing your legs and throwing them over his shoulders before he begins to move inward and outward, slowly thrusting into you.

Your body adjusts to his size quickly, coating his cock with the essence of its approval which makes him chuckle. He accelerates the pace, driving himself into you like an animal, rutting against you like a beast in heat.

You find yourself a moaning mess amongst all of this unwillingly, the way his cock penetrating your cunt felt way more pleasing than it should have, and his hand was working its magic on your clit.

“Fuck— you feel so fucking good, darling, I'm lucky to have spared you.” He growls as he increases his speed even more, the stretch of his cock felt so euphoric that you couldn't help but enjoy it. You knew your body has already betrayed you, now even your mind has become its accomplice.

“Oh- I'm gonna finish inside you, my witch, with it you'll be cleansed of your wrongdoings.” He groans, feeling himself near the edge, his hand rubs faster against your clit, determined to make you cum before he does, all the while he's ramming into your sweet spot.

“Aemond—!” Both the stimulation cause a sudden burst of pleasure to explode in your body, its impact being so heavy that you moaned out his name involuntarily which ended up further pleasing him.

He comes to a sudden halt as he moans loudly, spurting his seed inside you; painting your walls white. He rides his orgasm out before completely pulling out and admiring the scene before him.

You were a panting mess with his seed leaking out of you, dripping down onto the wooden floor as you look dishevelled, your clothes are torn up and hair all messed up. You breathe heavily, processing what just happened.

“Do not waste my seed witch, it will cleanse you from in and out after it takes root in your womb.” Those words make your eyes widen at the implication and you slowly gaze upon him in shock as he puts on his pants back before lifting you off the ground.

He grabs your cloak from the nearby hanger and covers your body with it and soon he lifts you up, throwing you over his shoulders. “W-what are you doing?!” You yell at him as he takes you out of your house before throwing you onto his horse, forcing you to sit on it.

“Oh my sweet witch, you didn't think I was done with you did you? I'm taking you back to the castle, you're going to carry my children and give me heirs.” He says nonchalantly before he gets on the horse himself, holding the reins before taking off.

He had taken quite the liking to you more than he wanted to admit, he had no reason to spare you but he did anyway, perhaps witches weren't bad after all?

You survived but at what cost?

That's all you could think about as you leaned against his chest, the air hitting your face and blowing through your hair as he was taking you to the castle.

— ! ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

#MAE:DARK!CONTENT #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #dark!aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x reader smut #tw: noncon #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #dark!aemond targaryen #dark!aemond x reader #x reader smut #dark fic #dead dove do not eat #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x fem!reader

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wonderjanga · 3 months ago

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Marvel Lying

One day, Billy realizes he can just lie. To press, to the JL (only when they really ask about his identity), and to world. And the best part is that almost no one can prove him wrong, because what’s Black Adam or someone else going to do? Prove him wrong? (I kinda already talked about this but meh) Like here’s something I can see Billy maybe doing because one time and one time alone, a reporter asked and he quotes:

Reporter: “Captain, I’m sure many people are speculating, and I’m sure it’s a question asked often, but who is your Missus Marvel?” *holds mic to Billy’s face*

Marvel: “…Huh?” *Has confused expression* “Can you repeat that?”

Reporter: “Who is your Missus Marvel?”

Marvel: “Uh… Ma’am, there is no—” *Does air quotes* “—Missus Marvel.”

Reporter: “Then who is the mother of Captain Marvel Junior and Mary Marvel?”

Marvel: “Uuuuh… Me? Technically? They’re both made from parts of me, but not parts *gestures to his lower region* of me, no.” *He shook his head.* “If I remember correctly Mary was made about 10000 years ago when one of my arms were chopped off. (He’s lying through his teeth right now. The only reason he hasn’t been caught is because of Achilles allowing him to bullshit his was through without blinking.)

Reporter: “I- I see.” *stunned*

Marvel: “And then Junior’s a…” *snorts* “…leg.” *Muffles a laugh into his hand not realizing no one will get his joke besides Freddy and Mary*

Reporter: *confused by Billy laughing but doesn’t say anything* “Interesting… Are Mary Marvel and Marvel Junior your only children? Spawn? Wards?”

Marvel: “Oh, yeah. I could more though. Like, watch this.” *Literally breaks off his ring finger, splintering the bone and everything without a single flinch. Then drops the finger on the ground and it morphs into what looks like a four year old Marvel. Billy picks him up and holds him like a parent would their toddler.* “It’s super easy.” *He’s even doing the slight bouncing that parents do when they hold their kids.* “But I don’t know… now that I’m holding this one, I’m starting to get attached. We might keep him.” *looks down at the mini Marvel, who in turn looks back at him.*

Reporter: *still horrified she watched a man, if he even is one, snap one of his fingers off like nothing. Said man’s finger nub is also still exposed to the world in all its disgusting glory. Safe to say she’s looking a little green* “O- Oh really?”

Marvel: *moves Mini Marvel around in his grip, and then suddenly throws the toddler like a paper airplane. Thankfully, instead of falling on the ground and splattering like meat pie, Mini Marvel takes to the skies is flying over the nearby crowd and such. Marvel turns back to the reporter.* “Yeah, but before that happens, he’ll have to develop a consciousness and personality. It took a bit for Mary and Junior to develop their own. Now they have their own likes, dislikes, and feelings. Who knows how long it’ll take the little guy.” (Again, he’s bullshitting this completely. He’s mishmashing Solomon’s wisdom on golems with things he makes up on the fly)

Reporter: “That’s… amazing.” *looks greener now. Looks to cameraman and motions for him to cut the feed. As soon as he does, her hand moves to her mouth.* “Oh my god, I’m going to be sick.” *runs over to nearest trashcan*

Marvel: “I guess that’s my cue to leave.” *starts to float off the ground* “Thanks for having me, miss!” *Marvel then whistles and Mini Marvel immediately stops entertaining the crowd and flies over to Billy and they fly off into the sunset.*

Elsewhere… Mary’s working an odd job for some money when she sees a tv on the news channel. She nearly has a heart attack because for three brief seconds she thought her dad was holding a young Billy in his arms like he used to. Then she blinked a couple times and realized it was just Billy as Marvel with four year old dressed like him. Fawcett kids really love Captain Marvel, huh?

(Oh yeah, and as for how he made Mini Marvel, he’s my hypothesis. When he broke off his finger, he destabilized its form and it reverted back to a part of living lightning for a brief couple of moments. Then, in an effort to not return back to the rock, as it could sense part of itself still nearby, it stabilized itself once more and forced itself to take the form of a miniature Marvel) (and if anyone makes sense of that, I’ll be darned)

#billy batson #captain marvel dc #dc captain marvel #fawcett #fawcett city #fawcett comics #shazam #mary bromfield #mary batson #freddy freeman #reporter

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pinkledrm · 2 years ago

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hannah was so iconic for choosing this photo

THE CAPTION WAS FAMILY PHOTO OUGHHHHHHH

i have tears in my eyes i love them sm

#the snf contact #the fact that tubbo looks high #everyone is kinda in an awkward position except hannah and foosh #like girl really went i look good. wonderful. post #tina also looks fucking amazing but like her facial expression is slightly odd

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bbydoll18xx · 3 months ago

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I’ve Got a Wand and a Rabbit (Bonus)

Paige wants to try scissoring, but she’s too shy to tell you.

Paige Bueckers x Reader

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Word Count: 1.2k

Themes: smut, humor, fluff if u squint

A/N: one of my beautiful anons suggested this and I just want to thank whoever it was. This shit is too good. To those who enjoy shy, bottom Paige: you are welcome ;)

“Babe,” you say for the third time, trying to catch Paige’s attention, who was deeply engrossed in her cell phone. She had been acting weird all day. She was usually all over you, clinging onto you, trying to get you as close to her as possible. But today, she was glued to her phone, only giving you short answers, and you were starting to get annoyed.

“Madison!” You snap, and her head whips up to meet your furrowed brow with a guilty look on her face.

She smiles sheepishly at you. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, leaving her phone face down on the arm of the couch and coming over to where you were sitting. “Didn’t mean to ignore my pretty girl.”

You look at her suspiciously as she pulls you into her lap, pressing hot, open mouth kisses to your jaw and trailing them down your neck.

You were not an idiot. You had dated multiple conniving liars, and your instincts were never wrong. The situation reeked of something fishy, and you were going to figure it out. You sincerely hoped nothing crazy was going on; you actually really liked Paige.

And because you were a girl with a pulse, you gave into Paige’s mouth, as she drew you in with her unrelenting charm.

God, you were so fucked.

She pulls you into her bedroom to have her way with you, making you forget all about her weird behavior and her abandoned cell phone.

For now at least.

The next day rolls around and you are determined to figure out the source of Paige’s odd behavior. You walk into her apartment quietly, giggling to yourself as you imagine spy music in the background as you creep towards her closed door. There was no noise coming from her room, and you were not actually sure if she was in there or not.

Taking a deep breath, you carefully open the door and step into the room. Paige is laying on her stomach with her large headphones covering her ears. Her back is to you, and she is watching something intently on her iPad.

She was always fucking around on that thing.

‘She’s probably playing Roblox again,’ you snicker inside your head before taking another step forward to see what she was looking at.

Your heart stumbles in your chest as you glance over her shoulder to see two girls scissoring in broad daylight on the screen, and you let out a gasp, giving you away.

Paige whips her head around to see you staring at her with your mouth open in shock. Her cheeks bloom with embarrassment, and she rubs a hand across her neck before sending you a sheepish smile. “I can explain?”

You take a seat on her bed, wringing your sweaty hands together. “You know I don’t care that you’re watching porn right? But, like, why?” You ask, still in shock.

Paige sighs, looking back at the paused screen of her iPad that was haphazardly thrown onto her pillows. “I wanted to try scissoring with you. And I’ve never done that shit. And I was scared to bring it up,” she mumbles.

You giggle, and she whines in protest, pushing at your arm. “Not funny,” she pouts.

“Actually, it’s pretty fucking hilarious!” You cackle, poking at her side. “But why didn’t you just tell me? Who was the one who taught you how to use a vibrator?” You say pointedly. “And that was before we were even dating.”

“I know,” she groans, putting her head in her hands. “I just get kinda shy ‘bout this shit.”

“You poor baby,” you coo. “Now, c’mon, let's go scissor.”

Paige looks at you with a dumbfounded expression. “What?”

“Well don’t you want to try it? I’m horny, and I can see you’re soaked through those flimsy sweatpants,” you add, pointing to her crotch.

Her face turns bright red again.

Her sheepishness was divine, and you were eager to show her the many pleasures of scissoring. You were going to leave her absolutely wrecked.

Paige’s breathless whines cut through the air as you press hot, wet kisses to her inner thighs. She writhes against her bedsheets, and you continue to tease her.

“You look so pretty all spread out f’me,” you simper, overtly pleased with yourself. No one could get a rise out of her like you.

“Such a fuckin’ tease,” she grunts, throwing an arm across her face. Her hips jump up as you swipe your thumb across her swollen clit in retaliation. “Please, baby,” she cries, thrusting her bottom lip out in a ridiculous pout.

Your own pussy was dripping in excitement, and you doubted you’d be able to hold off much longer, so you decided to show her a little mercy.

“C’mere,” you instruct, pulling her closer and slotting her open legs through yours. Loud gasps ring out as your slick pussies connect as you both adjust to the feeling.

Paige leans forward, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss before she rolls her hips experimentally, leaving you to moan into her mouth. It was raw, the sheer magnetism exuding out from between the two of you.

Grabbing onto her long, toned leg, you use it to slide her soaked folds against yours, ensuring your clits aligned perfectly. It was erotic, and as you stared at Paige’s heaving body, you felt another gush trickle down onto the soft skin of your inner thighs.

Her mouth is open, head tilted back, as she inhales sharply. Her grip moves to your ass, and she sends a stinging slap to your sensitive skin.

“Fuck,” you moan out, rolling your hips again and watching as your movement sends shockwaves through Paige’s body. Her thighs tremble and her tits bounce as you pull her in close to you, kissing her deeply as you grind against her.

“S’good,” she mumbles against your mouth before a needy whine leaves her lips with another roll of your hips. “Can’t last much longer,” she pants out.

You stroke her cheek, making her look into your eyes as you speed up your movements. The noises were downright filthy as your pussy slid wetly against hers, the friction quickly bringing you to a glorious edge.

Paige cums with your name on her lips, her body shuddering as the pleasure rips through her. Expletives and moans fill the air as you and Paige come down from your highs together.

As your breathing evens out, you reach to move her blonde hair out of her face, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“That was way better than I expected,” she grins, and you laugh.

“Now what are you going to do the next time you wanna try out something new?” You ask, a teasing tone ringing through your voice.

Paige sighs, looking bashful. “I’m gonna tell you instead of watching it on Pornhub.”

You pull her in for another kiss. “That’s my good girl.”

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think

xoxo katy

Taglist:

@fullladypanda-blog, @omg-imtumbling, @tenaciousglitternerd, @oldcrdigan, @paigebuxkets, @the-other-half , @patscorner @dietcokesmom @ch12334 @double22-k @inthedeathofherreptuation , @authentic-girl03 , @blueredg52 @tndaqlifwy

Want to be added to my taglist? Comment or send me a message!

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x you #paige x reader #uconn wbb #ive got a wand and a rabbit #paige bueckers smut

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ohbo-ohno · 5 months ago

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cuckolding - simon ‘sells his sperms’ to reader and her bf who’s infertile. they can’t afford ivf so the traditional way it is but just the tip and jerking off into her pussy. that’s what was agreed anyway

simon ends up taking whatever he wants from her because how can we fuck if we aren’t properly aroused sweetheart? let’s do a few rounds to increase the chances eh? she’s so desperate for a baby that she complies. she’s secretly into it even. poor reader’s bf :( watching her make out with this stranger and take his cock in her mouth too

hello beloved. im ghoapifying this. pls forgive me

smth about johnny having kinks that he doesn't want to admit to/doesn't recognize... him subconsciously looking for a way to get those needs met...... it's delicious

thinking about you and johnny deciding you want a kid but after months and months of trying with no results, you're starting to lose a bit of hope. the both of you get your fertility checked, and johnny is pretty crushed to learn that he's shooting blanks. makes your relationship a little rocky for a while tbh bc he becomes kinda obsessed with proving his own virility to himself

when you two eventually decide (through a mix of dirty talk, pillow talk, and very emotional conversations) that you want to try ivf, you realize pretty much immediately after that you don't have the thousands upon thousands of dollars necessary just lying around. it's johnny who consoles you when you realize you won't be able to afford the treatment, and it's johnny who decides that he's going to fix the problem himself

(ghost is looking for odd jobs when he spots the listing on craigslist. smth so terribly worded that he almost thinks it's a joke, at first. there's not a single comma used properly, it seems like every other word is misspelled, but the earnestness is clear through the screen. the request was posted five minutes ago, and ghost is the eighth comment - a quick glance at the other accounts shows him that he's the youngest by at least a decade)

soap and ghost message, for a while. soap is pushy as hell, asks for pictures of ghost's face and gets a few of his cock instead. says he's not sure if ghost is the right pick, since he looks nothing like johnny, but keeps messaging him anyway. simon is pushy as hell, asks everyday when they're gonna meet up, gets pissy when johnny keeps pushing it off

(soap sends pictures of you sometimes. they start out innocent enough, pictures of your face from your instagram or your side profile when you won't catch him with his phone up. johnny finds it easy to ignore the guilt he feels when ghost says send me one of what i'll be fucking and johnny does, sends a picture of you fucked out and face down that you had no idea existed. you're limp, slick and come dripping from your hole, and johnny can't help the way he gets hard when ghost's only response is one without your useless spunk inside her. she won't have to put up with it much longer)

when you finally meet ghost, you're unaware of all of this, of course. johnny had just told you he wanted you to meet a friend of his from work, and you'd been excited to go out for a night on the town with him. you'd found simon off-putting, to be honest, but he'd already said he'd be picking up the tab, so you just indulge in a few more shots than you normally would and stay cuddled close to johnny most of the night.

johnny only tells you the real reason he introduced you two when ghost says 'm steppin out for a cigarette, i'll pull the car around for you two and lumbers off, lighter already out.

ye still want a bairn, right? johnny had said, eyes bright as he wrapped his arms around you, kept you pressed close to him. simon can give one to you, to us. he's not even gonna charge us, bonnie, how great is tha'? you'd gaped at him a little, and he'd interpreted your expression as fear. hush, naw, don't worry, lass, i'll be there the whole time. promise i won't let him hurt you, yeah? we can even hold hands, alright?

the time between you sitting in a booth with your legs thrown over your boyfriend's lap and your back flat on your bed is a blur in your mind

simon is heavy over you, both of your wrists held in one of his hands as he ruts against you. you're drunk enough that you can't focus on much but the heat between your thighs and the long kiss simon has kept you locked in. he strips you easily, forcing you high up on the bed so you can rest in the pillows, forcing your legs around his hips so he can pin you

it's only when he pulls back to undo his belt and strip himself that you finally remember johnny is in the room too.

he's bent over the edge of the bed, hardly two feet away, and you can hear the sound slick sound of him fisting his cock, can feel the way the bed shakes just a bit as he fucks his own hand. you sort of whine, reaching out for him, soothed when his free hand links with yours, his own eyes a little wet like they always are when he gets so hard that his thoughts melt away

"eyes here," ghost grunts, big hand covering one half of your face as he forces your gaze away from your boyfriend and back to him. "you don't need to look at him. he's not the one gettin you knocked up, is he?"

you and johnny moan in tandem for that, and your eyes are wide as saucers when you finally look down at the battering ram between ghost's thighs, the ruddy tip of him leaking as he strokes himself.

"you're too big," you manage to gasp, squirming back.

ghost makes a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, lining himself up with your drippy hole and pushing in without warning. you nearly squeal at the stretch, digging your nails into his shoulders and pushing against his thighs with the heels of your feet. your squirming doesn't stop him, and he doesn't give you even a second to adjust as he uses his weight to sink himself to the hilt inside of you

he makes you look in the eye while he fucks you. and he talks a lot - he says more while he's inside you than he did your entire evening in the bar earlier

you feel good, huh? this the first time you ever had a real man fuck you? yeah, the brat humpin' the bed isn't enough for you. bet you always felt empty when he fucked you, but he didn't even need to stretch you out before rutting here. a hand rubbing your clit, making you nearly scream from the added pleasure as he fucks you so hard that the headboards slamming against the wall. bet my seed'll take first try he grunts into your ear, and you hear johnny moan from your left. might even give you more than one, huh? have you fat and round with my babies, make him watch you grow and take care of you, if he can even manage that.

when simon finally comes, he fills you up more than johnny ever had. makes you wait to come until he does first, too, tells you that he googled it while pinching and twisting your clit until you burst beneath him, your cunt squeezing his soft cock as your eyes roll back in your head

(johnny cuddles you, after. he tries to fuck you but ghost won't let him, holds him back by the hips and squeezes his balls until he goes soft, spits i don't want your spunk fucking with mine. you gonna waste my time like that? thought you wanted me to fuck your girl pregnant? were you lying, johnny, or you just so fuckin' desperate that you'll break our deal? and johnny whines and cries but listens, holding you close and pressing his cock against your folds but never inside of you)

((ghost doesn't leave the next morning. doesn't leave the next week, actually. he fucks you every day, even when you insist that you're not ovulating anymore, that he doesn't have to keep trying to get you pregnant. the first time he eventually lets johnny fuck you again, he holds him by the hips and stuffs a few fingers inside you along johnny's cock, says she got used to me, johnny, we'll have to give her a little extra if you want her to let you fuck her again and laughs when johnny whines.))

(((he doesn't even leave when you take your first pregnancy test and get positive results. he rubs your back as johnny scoops you up off the ground, rumbles his own quiet congratulations. a few days later you try to hint that he can leave now, that you and johnny don't need him anymore. he doesn't listen, but that's okay, because you can't quite imagine what you would do if he did leave, how you and johnny would function without his rock steadiness - you're relationship had been a rollercoaster before simon, insane highs and terrible lows, all smoothed out when ghost came into the picture and started playing referee for the two of you)))

((((when you're eight months pregnant, you lounge in a rocking chair as johnny rubs your feet and simon builds a crib.))))

#this accidentally got way longer than i meant it to be #asks and answers #ghoap x reader #bo writes #not to self promo but................ i do in fact have a cuck kink fic......................#you should go read it it's my challengers fic

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astralphobia · 7 months ago

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anyone else think of how terrifying sock opera must have been for mabel

when bipper’s looking down at her with that shit-eating grin, holding the rope?? Yk, that iconic scene??

Yeah, I can’t imagine how Mabel must have felt or how many nightmares sprung from that.

just. Imagine with me, okay? You’re twelve. You have a twin brother who’s been there for you your whole life, and always has your best interest at heart. He’s given up so much for you, and you’ve tried your best to help him in return, helping him solve mysteries and engaging in the things he enjoys with him. You don’t have to do that, but you do, because you want him to be happy.

And one day, something odd happens. He hasn’t gotten a lot of sleep lately, so maybe it’s just sleep deprivation! Maybe he’s just. ..Acting so oddly,, because he’s tired!

yeah. That’s it. At least he wants to help you with your crush for once, even if he wanted to focus on that laptop earlier. You feel kinda bad about ignoring it, but c’monnnn!! This guy is. So hot. You can’t help yourself! .. probably.

When you’re almost halfway through your attempt to impress this guy, this.. puppet you made starts floating, talking to you in the voice of your brother, telling you that he did something stupid (made a deal), and his body is currently being possessed by this triangle jerk you encountered earlier in the summer.

… kinda a lot to take in, but hey!! At least you know what was off now. .. wow, you’re kind of a bad sister for not noticing, huh?

anyways, he needs your help! But it could totally ruin your chances with this guy…. But that doesn’t matter, he needs your help. This only happened because you didn’t help him earlier, so you gotta help him now, right??

you rush to find the only thing that could possibly help you in this scenario. The journal.

And when you do find it, well..

even though you know that is not your brother, that’s a demon, possessing your brother’s body.. it still looks like him. And never have you felt such utter horror, such primal fear at the sight of a simple grin, ear. to. ear.

seeing him above you, standing on the catwalk makes you feel small, useless, insignificant.

and the expression on his face is one you hope you never see his facial features contort into again.

And he’s holding onto the rope that could mean the difference between life or death for you, the rope that is holding you and the wooden cake in the air. You’re lucky he caught it in the first place.

He could drop it any time he wants. Let go any time he wants. And he does, briefly, toying with you.

When your eyes widen and fear squeezes at your heart, he laughs at your pathetic, meaningless actions.

and even though you know it isn’t your brother. You know it’s not him, it’s not him, it’s not, it’s not…

And yet. It sounds like him. His laugh. The little one he makes whenever you make a silly joke, or fall over dramatically, possibly at the expense of your dignity. The one you have heard so many times, usually just as innocent and sweet as the last. And now you hear it again, and even if it’s something else laughing through him,, you can’t help but hear it. Tainted with ill intent.

The day does get saved, however. Your brother gets back into his own body not too much later. And everything is back to normal!

….. but.

You can’t help but remember that moment whenever he smiles a bit too wide, or laughs a bit too hard.

You can’t help but stay awake at night, replaying that moment. Telling yourself that it wasn’t him.

And you still have nightmares about it, too. Where you don’t notice until it’s too late and that thing that looks and sounds like him but isn’t him is back and this time you’ve lost, you’ve lost, you’ve lost!

..you wish you were a better sister.

#gravity falls #mabel pines #dipper pines #bill cipher #astral yaps

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imaginesbymonika · 5 months ago

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Not a violent dog | Part 2

Pairing: Logan x fem!Reader

Plot: Back in Wade's world Logan meets someone he thought he would never ever see again.

Warnings: slight spoilers for Deadpool 3!!!! mentions of death, angst, cursing, and fluff at the end if you squeeze your eyes at the screen, I haven't written in A WHILE so bear with me

Previous Part

“Come on!”, Wade groaned before he threw himself on the old couch, and it made a squeaky sound:” Admit it, you missed me!” He keeps his head low as he peeks up at you through non-existent lashes. You only roll your eyes at his behavior:” I’m already missing the quiet.”. A blatant lie. God only knows how fucking worried you were when he abruptly vanished. It brought back old feelings, and you certainly weren’t a fan of that.

You sit down next to him when his expression suddenly shifts. It’s not often that you see Wade concerned, even though you know that his sarcasm and comedy are nothing more than a coping mechanism. It’s like looking into a mirror. “What’s wrong?”, you question him, swallowing thickly while you study his features for any clues:” Why did you need to see me…alone?” It was an odd phone call to receive at 3 in the morning.

Wade clears his throat:” I told you about saving the universe, right? And before you drop to your knees to thank me like the maid thanks her knight in shining armor. I have to tell you something important.” You run a hand down your face and sigh softly:” God, I miss the silence so much.”

“I didn’t save this world alone…”, he declares, twisting his body to fully face you:” I had help. And that help is living with me from now on and I just cannot keep him in my room the entire time whenever you’re around- even though that’s kinda sexy, now that I'm thinking about it. As if he’s my mistress...” You only blink at him in pure perplexity.

“I- I just need you to meet him, okay?”, he rises from his spot beside you and walks towards the door to his room. “Wade…”, you observe his every move and lean back:” Did you kidnap a stripper? Again?! I swear to God, I-.” But when he opens the door and does a hand motion notifying that whoever’s in the room can come out now you turn silent.

A sixth sense you hadn’t felt in a long time begins to limp its way out from some dark and quiet spot inside your soul and towards the surface.

“Come on.”, Wade makes a few more hand movements, almost as if he is calling a… cat?“You can do it, kitty.” Your breath hitched in your throat, and something inside of you is arising again from a long, and deep slumber- it aches terribly. If someone asked you to guess who was inside that room, you could nod but not give them a name. Your heart was carved in with the name of a lover you tried your hardest to forget.

And a second later he comes into view. “Now, please keep in mind that this Logan is from another universe.”, your friend clarifies, while he slowly moves in front of him. Almost as if he attempts to shield him from whatever reaction you were about to give him. But you don’t move.

There’s a longing look on Logan’s face. His fingers twitch now and then. “Y/N.”, your name leaves his mouth like a prayer. Like some sort of spell that hasn’t been used in decades. Smooth like honey, and dripping off his lips onto the filthy carpet. You yearn to drench in it. After all, you haven’t heard it in such a long time, it feels like you are listening to it for the first time all over again. And you finally rise to your feet.

Wade swallows thickly and turns to attend to the empty air:” What do you guys think she’s about to do? Do you think they’re going to fuck on the carpet? No… Disney wouldn’t allow that. What a fucking shame! It’s Stucky all over again.”

It takes you a few seconds to react, but once you finally do you only turn around and scan the room for a trash can before you eventually rush to the nearest and throw up. Wade tilts his head and sighs:” Well, that’s disappointing.”

“Y/N.”, Logan quickly walks up to you but you snap your head at him and hiss. “That’s so Cat claw coded.”, the bald man whispers before he makes his way towards you. “Don’t fucking touch me!”, you shout at Logan. And you can sense all the bitterness and anger and hatred boil inside your veins.

“What the fuck, Wade?!”, you yell at him as you stand up from the ground:” What the actual fuck?! You couldn’t just fucking warn me?! Couldn't have told me this over the phone?!” Tears are streaming down your face and they make your friend take a step back. You have never cried in front of him before. “What the fuck?!”, it’s the final thing you declare before you storm out of the apartment.

#logan howlett angst #logan howlett x you #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #xmen x reader #xmen #wolverine x you #deadpool #angst

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luvleyshif4 · 15 days ago

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ALWAYS COMES BACK

Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: reader just loves Rafe so much she has to fight her anger issues…

Warnings: fluff, argument, very little angst, reader has anger issues, happy ending, hurt/comfort, reader is clingy kinda…

Word count: 1.23k words

Authors note: I wasn’t getting any ideas or motivation. And I also just love reading other people’s work more than making my own. But here’s something I thought of which I found kinda cute. Hope you guys like it😘😘

Rafe wasn’t the kind of person you’d ever pictured yourself with. On paper, the two of you couldn’t be more different. You were deliberate, composed, and fiercely independent. a far cry from the impulsive and turbulent life Rafe had once led. But by the time you crossed paths, he was already working on becoming someone better, someone worthy of a second chance.

The relationship didn’t start as a whirlwind romance. it was slow, careful, and built on countless hours of guarded conversations. Rafe had a way of disarming you, not with grand gestures but with quiet vulnerability. He let you in, into his world, his mind, his heart, and before you knew it, you couldn’t imagine life without him.

Being with Rafe wasn’t always easy, though. He had his moments of doubt, moments where his past tried to claw its way back. But you stood by him, matching his stubbornness with your own. Despite the occasional clash of temperaments, his protectiveness versus your independence. you found a rhythm. A messy, imperfect rhythm that somehow worked.

…..

The argument started in the kitchen of Tanneyhill, where you had been putting away washed dishes.

Rafe leaned against the counter, his expression hard and unreadable, while you paced across the tiled floor, your arms crossed defensively. What began as a small disagreement had escalated, both of you too proud and too stubborn to back down.

He was protective. too protective, in your eyes. His insistence on involving himself in matters you thought you could handle felt suffocating at times. And your frustration only fueled his need to assert himself, to convince you that he was right.

“You just don’t listen, Rafe!!” you snapped, your voice rising despite your attempts to stay calm.

Rafe’s jaw tightened, his blue eyes narrowing. “And you don’t think about the consequences!” he shot back.

The argument snowballed from there, sharp words exchanged like blows, each one cutting deeper than the last. Your anger flared, your own temper spiraling out of control as you felt the familiar heat rise in your chest. Rafe wasn’t backing down, and neither were you.

Finally, you’d had enough.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the house, grabbing your car keys on the way. The heavy slam of the front door echoed behind you, a punctuation to your exit.

……

Sitting in the driver’s seat, your hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, your chest heaving as you tried to steady your breathing. You hated when things got like this, heated, messy, unresolved. But your anger always had a way of clouding your judgment, making it hard to see beyond the moment.

The engine hummed as you started the car, but you didn’t move. Your thoughts swirled, fragments of the argument replaying in your mind. His frustration, your defensiveness, the sharp edge in his voice when he told you to “just let him protect you.”

You hated the way he said it. But you hated the way it made you feel even more. hated how you had reacted.

Because beneath your frustration was a truth you couldn’t ignore: Rafe’s actions, however misguided, always came from a place of love. And you hated being at odds with him.

With a sigh, you shut off the car and climbed out, the cool night air prickling your skin as you walked back toward the house. Each step felt heavier than the last, doubt creeping into your mind. What if he didn’t want to talk? What if you’d hurt him too much this time?

But then the door opened before you could knock.

Rafe stood in the doorway, keys being shoved in his pocket, his expression unreadable, though his furrowed brow and the tension in his shoulders betrayed his inner turmoil. His blue eyes met yours, searching, waiting.

For a moment, You just stood there with your arms crossed, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. But when your gaze met his, the resolve in your expression faltered.

You let out a small huff, your lips pressing together in a pout as you glanced down at the ground, suddenly unsure of what to say. You hated this, the awkwardness, the weight of the argument still hanging between you.

“I…” you started, but the words caught in your throat.

Rafe’s gaze softened, though he didn’t move. He simply stood there, waiting, giving you the space you needed.

Your arms dropped to your sides, your expression softening further, and without another thought, you took a step forward, closing the distance between you. Your hands found their way around his waist, your head resting against his chest as you hugged him tightly.

At first, he didn’t respond, his body stiff with surprise. But then his arms wrapped around you, his hold firm and steady, like he’d been waiting for this moment all along.

“I hate fighting with you,” you mumbled against his chest, your voice low, cracking, the words muffled but no less sincere.

Rafe let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His hand moved to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair in a soothing gesture. “I know,” he said quietly into the hair on top of your head. “Me too.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt your head and look up at him. The edges of his lips curved faintly, though his gaze remained serious, searching yours.

“Do you forgive me?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your lips quivered into a sad pout.

His lips twitched into a small smile, and he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. “Always,” he murmured.

His hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb trailing down to your bottom lip, brushing softly against it, his voice low. “Though I can’t stay mad at you. Not when you look like this.”

A small laugh escaped your lips, the tension in the air momentarily easing. But the way he looked at you—the intensity, the raw tenderness—made your chest ache. You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. Without thinking, you leaned up on your toes, closing the distance.

Rafe met you halfway, his lips brushing against yours with a gentleness that contrasted the tension from earlier. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and filled with an unspoken apology.

When you pulled back, he kept his forehead resting against yours. The silence stretched for a beat before he spoke, his voice low and steady.

“I love you,” he said, the words falling from his lips with quiet certainty, like they’d been waiting for the right moment.

Your breath caught, your heart thudding in your chest as his words sank in. A slow, shy smile spread across your face as you hide your face in his chest. “I love you, too,” you whispered, the confession falling from your lips just as easily.

For a moment, nothing else mattered. Not the fight, not the frustration—just this. Just him.

Because in the end, no matter what, you’d always come back to him.

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