#I hate this girl AND I feel so sad for her

[allhandsonhotch]

Mommy Makeover

Pairing: reassuring!hotch & insecure!new mom! reader!

Synopsis- After hearing one of the moms at Jack’s school ask you if Aaron was going to pay for your mommy makeover— it leaves you feeling very insecure in your own skin.

Warnings: mentions of body insecurity, slight angry hotch, alludings to smut (potential part two ;0), sad, insecure reader, mentions of child birth/labor, comforting hotch, mean pta moms. let me know if i missed any!

You had just had a baby about a two months ago with your boyfriend of a year. It was a little soon and the both of you knew that but Aaron remained by your side through the whole thing and reassured you that the baby wasn’t going to change your relationship.

You loved him and your new baby girl but you had noticed how your stomach stretched out a little more now, your tits were lopsided from breastfeeding, and you hadn’t really made an effort to look good since you had your baby.

None of that bothered you too much because Aaron didn’t seem to mind or at least he didn’t tell you he did.

You had taken Jack to school a lot since you were on maternity leave from work and you hadn’t seemed to notice the judgemental stares from some of the other moms until they came up to you directly.

“So— Y/N is Aaron paying for your mommy makeover?” One of them asked, you’d grown to know her name as Liz but only because she tried to get you to join the PTA.

“What?” You asked confused. You’d never heard of a mommy makeover and you didn’t know if you wanted to know.

“My husband paid for mine when we had our last baby— not that I really needed it the way you do..” Her tone was condescending in a way that made you want to hit her and that’s when you noticed what she was talking about. Her stomach was flatter than ever despite having 3 kids, her thighs weren’t saggy with extra fat and her tits were annoyingly perfect in the way that they perked up perfectly in the tiny crop top she wore, her ass was rounded off and it didn’t sag the way yours did. She looked good.

“What do you mean?” You asked, irritation clear in your tone. “Oh I just mean that— my husband hated the way I looked after I had our last baby— he wouldn’t sleep with me if I looked like..” Your heart dropped as you let her words get into your head.

Aaron hadn’t had sex with you since the baby and the doctor cleared you for that weeks ago.

He hadn’t even tried to get with you at all now that you thought about it and just like that it stung really bad.

Childbirth had changed your body in many ways and it bugged you but you never thought it could have bugged Aaron— but maybe it did.

“Me?” You asked which made her head shake with a fake smile. “No! Y/N of course not! I’m just saying..” You hated the way she condescended you, it made you feel disgusting.

“I’m sorry but just because your husband couldn’t appreciate the way you looked after growing his child in your womb doesn’t mean I need that stupid mommy makeover!” You snapped irritatedly and god you wished you believed yourself.

You went home right after that looking defeated as you walked through the door. Aaron was staying home today and he offered you a break from the baby by letting you take Jack to school.

“Hey honey..” Aaron greeted his tone lowering as he saw the expression on your face. “What’s wrong?” He asked almost so softly you couldn’t hear.

“Just the other moms— M’ fine.” You tried, hoping it sounded reassuring enough for him. “What did they say?” He demanded, his voice sounding bitter as he spoke.

He knew how judgy they could be. “Just some talk about a uhm— Liz insinuated that uh—” You wished it didn’t sound so dumb as you tried to say it out loud.

“Liz basically insinuated that I needed one of those stupid mommy makeovers..” Your tone was quiet, insecurity clear as you spoke.

Aaron’s eyes softened immediately, his hand coming to grip your waist. “You can’t believe her.. right? You don’t believe her?”

His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it—like the very idea of you believing Liz’s words physically pained him. His hand tightened on your waist, grounding you, pulling you closer.

You swallowed hard, eyes dropping to his chest instead of meeting his gaze. “I don’t know,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I mean… I had Delilah not too long ago, and it’s not like I look the same as I did back when we started dating..”

Aaron exhaled sharply, his grip firm as he guided you to look at him. “You’re serious?” His brows knit together, frustration flashing in his dark eyes—not at you, but at the fact that you were doubting yourself because of someone else’s careless words. “You are beautiful, exactly as you are.”

You huffed a short, humorless laugh. “You have to say that.”

“No,” he countered immediately, shaking his head. “I don’t. But I do have to make sure you understand how wrong she is.” His free hand lifted to your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheekbone with a gentleness that made your breath hitch. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and anyone who says otherwise is blind.”

The intensity in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes searched yours, and for a second, you thought—hoped—he might kiss you. But then he exhaled through his nose, reigning himself back in.

“I don’t want you believing anyone who tries to make you feel less than what you are.” His thumb brushed your cheek again, and his voice dropped, softer now. “And what you are is incredible, you carried a child for nine months I couldn’t imagine doing that.. of course your body is bound to change but I love the way you look now just as much as I loved the way you looked before if not more.”

You swallowed, heat creeping up your neck. “Aaron…”

“You don’t need a dumb mommy makeover,” he murmured. “And you sure as hell don’t need validation from someone like her.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs as you searched his face, finding nothing but sincerity. And maybe—just maybe—something more.

“But you haven’t had sex with me since before I had the baby and I just thought maybe you thought I was unattractive or something..” Aaron’s entire body went still. His jaw tensed, his brows drawing together as if the very idea was incomprehensible to him. “What?” His voice was low, almost disbelieving.

You swallowed, feeling heat rise up your neck. You hadn’t meant to say it—not like that, not so bluntly—but now that it was out there, you couldn’t take it back.

“I just… I know things have been different since Delilah was born,” you said quietly, shifting under his gaze. “And I get it, we’re exhausted, we barely have time for each other, but sometimes I wonder if it’s more than that.” You exhaled shakily. “If maybe you don’t want me like you used to.”

His expression darkened, something flickering behind his eyes—something raw, something frustrated. “You think I don’t want you?” His voice dropped, rough with emotion, and before you could answer, his hands were back on you—gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him.

The heat of his body against yours sent a shiver down your spine.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” he murmured, his lips just inches from yours. “I think about you constantly. Do you know how many times I’ve had to stop myself? How many nights I’ve laid awake next to you, wanting to touch you?” His fingers flexed against your hips, like he was barely holding himself back. “You just had our baby. The last thing I wanted was to pressure you, to make you feel like you owed me something.”

You blinked up at him, breath catching in your throat. “Aaron…”

His thumb brushed against your lower lip, his eyes burning into yours. “You are everything to me. Everything. And if I haven’t touched you, it’s not because I don’t want you.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s because I can’t trust myself to stop.”

Your breath hitched, heat pooling low in your stomach. “Then don’t.”

His eyes searched yours, hesitation warring with desire. And then, finally, something inside him snapped.

Aaron’s mouth was on yours before you could take another breath, the kiss deep and consuming. His hands roamed your body, relearning every inch of you, and you melted into him, the weight of every doubt, every insecurity, fading beneath his touch.

[aurorawritestoescape]

PERFECT || Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel comforts you and helps you to overcome your insecurities, pampering you with praise and love.

Tw: 18+ mdni smut, fluff, hurt/comfort period fic, daddy dom/little girl dynamic, soft!Joel in love, reader’s on her period, emotional trauma bc of an asshole ex, insecure reader, protective Joel, daddy kink, praise kink, pet names- little girl, baby, babygirl, sweetie, dry humping, f!masturbation, mentions of f!oral, m!oral, bulge worship, cum eating, swearing.

Word count: 3,4k

A/n: I missed writing super soft daddy Joel. Also he won in my poll so I’m posting this fic first like a good girl😇 Big thank you to @twiztedlaces for the request 💞 I’m sorry that it took me so long. Hope you’ll like the story. Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing💋 Dividers by @/saradika-graphics 🌸

MASTERLIST || more daddy Joel

“Daddy, no,”

you whine, reluctantly sliding out of Joel’s embrace, inching away, putting some distance between him and you on the bed. He’s just come from work, still in his dress shirt and slacks, his tie loosened, but his hands are already all over you. It always warms your heart how he hurries to you as soon as he returns, as if he’s finally home only when you’re pressed to his chest. But today everything feels wrong. You feel wrong.

“What is it, baby?” Joel asks with a worried expression on his handsome face. The sunset makes him look ethereal, his features are almost glowing in the golden light. You’d love to kiss every inch of that face but instead you pull your knees to your chest and curl into a ball.

Joel’s honey eyes slide over your body, searching for a reason for your unusual behavior.

“Are you sick?” He sits closer and presses his lips to your forehead.

You mumble a quiet ‘no’ and squirm away, closer to the headboard, further from him. You hate how miserable he looks now, his puppy eyes sad and confused. He plants his hand on the bed and leans towards you, his gaze begging for an explanation.

“I’m sorry. I can’t today. I’m — erm…,” you stumble on words, your cheeks hot, your gaze downcast.

Joel is staring at you for a few seconds, giving you time to continue, not rushing you. He sits up slowly, trying not to spook you. You can feel his nervousness in the air, it sticks to your skin, makes your heart ache with guilt.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong, babygirl. So I could help.”

“It’s —.”

Joel scooches closer to you and tentatively takes your hand in his. His big palm engulfs your little hand completely and the warmth spreads in your belly from his gentle touch. Joel starts speaking, carefully choosing his words, his voice soft,

“If it’s about our setup… I’ll understand if you want to stop or …to make any changes.”

You’ve been together not for long, been living together for a few weeks, but this time has been nothing but wonderful. Joel’s been doting on you, pampering you with love and affection. He was perfect and you hate that now he’s searching for a problem in your relationship.

“I’ve gotten my period,” you blurt out and he widens his eyes at you.

“Period,” he repeats, slowly nodding. “Oh, are you hurting?”

“Yeah, a little. But it’s not that.”

“What is it then, babygirl?”

You sigh, tracing circles on the back of his big hand with a pad of your finger.

“You don’t have to touch me right now. When I’m —like this.”

“What? Have to? No, I want to.”

His brows furrowed, Joel carefully pulls you into his arms, studying your face for any sign of discomfort. You don’t fight it and lean against his broad chest, taking a deep breath of his scent, while your anxiety is leaving your body bit by bit.

His soft husky voice asks above your head,

“Why wouldn’t I want you, little girl? Have I done anything to make you think that? I never meant to.”

You shake your head and wrap your arms tightly around his torso, your nose pressed to his neck.

“No, you’ve never done anything wrong, daddy. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, baby. I just want to understand.”

“It’s my ex — ,” you pause, hating to call that man anything but a bad word. “He never wanted to touch me when I had my special days. Wouldn’t even hug me. Said it was disgusting.”

“Motherfucker!”

“Daddy!” You gasp, gawking up at him, a little smile curving your lips.

“I’m sorry for cursing, sweetie, but what the hell is wrong with him?”

Joel takes your face in his warm hands, his eyes searching for yours.

“Listen to me. There’s nothing disgusting about you. Never! How could he—?” he pauses, gritting his teeth and glaring away in anger. A vein is bulging on his neck and his protective nature makes your pussy tingle.

As you’re staring up at him with heart eyes, Joel takes a deep breath to calm down, and looks at you again.

“You’re perfect, and I’ll always want you. I’ll be by your side any day of the month, my little girl.”

“Thank you, daddy,” you whisper with a grateful smile, melting under his warm gaze like ice cream under the summer sun.

“Does my baby want to cuddle? I promise to behave,” he adds with a wink and you nod eagerly, butterflies dancing in your belly.

“Give me a second.”

Joel gets up and you watch him discard his office clothes and put on a tee and a pair of grey sweatpants.

When he climbs on the bed and lies down next to you, you find your place under his arm, your head on his shoulder. You breathe out a happy sigh and Joel kisses the top to your head before asking,

“Do you want anything? Food, a drink maybe?”

“No, I’m good. I’m glad you’re here with me.”

You put your bent leg over his thigh and press your whole body close to his. Joel’s chest is rising and falling slowly, his warmth gives you peace and, caged in his arms, you feel loved and wanted.

His hand heavy on your hip, his big body flush against yours, his scent enveloping you — all the sensations stir up a fire deep inside you. You tilt your hips and absentmindedly grind your clothed pussy against his thigh.

Joel hums and you hear a smile in his voice when he asks, “Sure you don’t need anything, babygirl?

Only then your mind realizes what your body has been craving since the moment Joel came home, and you hide your face in his chest, feeling shy. You can’t hide how much you crave him. Your murmur is hardly audible.

“I need you, daddy.”

Joel pinches your chin with two fingers and tilts your head up. You breathe in sharply when his dark eyes meet yours. He leans in and kisses you, his tongue breaches your lips and licks inside your whimpering mouth.

Joel pushes you gently on your back and deepens the kiss. His hand is pressed to your lower belly, sharing his warmth like the best heating pad, until it slides down, and he cups your covered pussy.

“Daddy,” you whine into his mouth and Joel echoes you with a guttural groan.

He parts from your lips, and hovers over your face, visibly trying not to lose control over his growing desire.

“Do you want me to make you feel good, sweetie?”

You feel the anxiety crawl back up your throat and start breathing fast, your eyes filing with panic again.

“I — I don’t know. I…”

“Shh, baby. It’s ok. We don’t have to do anything.”

“No, daddy, I want you,” you whine, your voice shaky, “But I don’t know how we can— if I’m— like this— oh, daddy. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey.” Joel hugs you tightly, keeping you grounded to him, containing your anxiety that threatens to swallow you whole.

After a few moments, he reaches for your face and starts leaving kisses on your nose, your lips, your cheeks, your fluttering eyes.

“Let me help you, please. What that man did to you... Fucker. I wish I could make you feel different. Can I try, babygirl?”

You think for a few seconds and then give Joel a shy nod.

“Tell me if it’s too much and I’ll stop, ok? " he coos, rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl.”

Joel gives you a reassuring smile before his lips press to yours again. His elbow is planted on the bed next to your shoulder, his plush lips are moving against yours. He sucks on your tongue and you moan while your hands are roaming his broad back, his muscular arms. Soon you start squirming under him, the ache between your legs getting too strong to ignore.

As if sensing your impatience, Joel covers your sex with his warm hand and murmurs,

“I’m gonna take your shorts off, ok?”

Your breathey ‘yes’ gives him a green light and he pulls them down and off your legs.

Joel’s hand returns to the apex of your thighs and now only your panties and a pad stand between his hand and your pussy.

He gently massages it and you breathe heavily, relishing the light stimulation but it’s not enough.

“Baby,” Joel rubs your nose with his and whispers, “what if I take your panties off as well? Will you let me?”

“But… the blood..”

“Don’t worry, I’ll put a towel on the bed. What do you say?”

You look into his warm eyes and feel how much you trust him in your soul.

”Ok, daddy.”

Joel gets up to grab a towel and you notice a big bulge, tenting his sweats. You lick your lips, craving a taste.

When Joel returns, he sits on his knees by your side and carefully places the towel under you. Then he hooks his thumbs under the waistband of your panties and, after a nod from you, slowly slides them down your legs.

It's your first day so the flow isn't heavy, but embarrassment overtakes you again, and you cover your face with your hands, keeping your legs closed.

For a few seconds you hear nothing except for your booming heart until Joel presses a soft kiss on the back of your hand and you peek at him from between your fingers.

"Can I see your pretty face, baby?"

You lower your hands and shily look up at him. Joel gives you a reassuring smile and commands,

"Now be a good girl and show daddy your sweet pussy."

You bite your lip, a mixture of arousal and fear coursing through your body, but his kindness, the desire in his gaze give you the needed courage and you slowly part your legs.

“Here she is,” Joel coos, lovingly staring at your cunt. “As beautiful as ever. My pretty flower.”

A smile spreads across your face and you breathe out with relief.

Joel leans down and kisses you, still kneeling, as if praying, but instead of gods he praises you, his girl who needs him more than air right now. Needs his adoration, his reassurance, his love.

You’re swept away by the kiss, passion and hunger are woven into every stroke of his lips. Your body lights up when his hand finds your cunt again and his thumb tentatively rubs your swollen clit. All the fears and worries evaporate when he starts caressing your pussy, lust rules over you now, your pleasured moans and whimpers ring loudly in the darkening bedroom.

Joel presses his forehead to yours and watches your face twist in pleasure, while his fingers are twirling your sensitive bud.

“You like it, little girl—?“ he whispers against your lips, “when daddy plays with your pussy like that?”

Your soft moan is the best answer. Joel gives you an adoring smile and his lips start tracing a soft path from your lips, down to your neck, then they reach your chest and he nuzzles it, pushing your top up and out of the way.

Your breasts are freed from the confines of the clothes and Joel latches on your nipple. It pebbles in his hot mouth, under the caress of his tongue.

“Ahhh, yes, daddy,” you sing and Joel growls against your tits.

You’re on cloud nine with his fingers rubbing your wet clit, his tongue swirling around your nipple, then around the other, his facial hair deliciously tickling the delicate skin of your breasts. You run your fingers through his silky curls, his name soft on your lips, but suddenly the pleasure gets too overwhelming and you lightly pull the hair on his nape.

Joel stops his ministrations this very second, his mouth leaves your breasts, and he searches for your eyes, his own gaze concerned and worried.

“Have I hurt you, baby? What’s wrong?”

“You haven’t, daddy, it feels so good but … can I get a kiss?”

Joel beams at you, his smile warms your heart.

“Of course, sweetie.”

He kisses you and you grab onto him as if you’re going to float away. His hand is on your mound, his lips moving sensually against yours.

He parts from you to whisper,

“She’s so wet and warm. Can I kiss her too?”

You know he’s talking about your pussy, beating in his hand, but the insecurities are rooted deep inside you, so you shake your head ‘no’ with a sorry expression.

“It’s fine, babygirl,” Joel comforts you. “Next time. Today daddy’s gonna use only his fingers, yes?”

“Please.”

Joel starts again slowly. Giving you time to adjust to the pleasure, get ready to a bright release, he lightly traces your seam, his pads drawing patterns on your soft folds, and when you whine a weak ‘daddy‘ only then his fingers dive between your pussy lips and start dancing over your clit.

Joel’s face inches from yours, he drinks in every single sign of your pleasure- the way your lips part, soft gasps and moans escaping them again and again, the fluttering of your lashes before your eyes roll back and you bite on your lower lip.

”Damn, wish it was my mouth down there,” Joel gruffs, his obsidian eyes half-lidded. ”My tongue misses your sweet hole, misses you coming on it.”

“Ahhh, daddy, I’m gonna —“

“Yes, let it go. For me, baby, for your perfect pussy.”

His mouth covers your tit again and he sucks on your nipple hard. The combination of his dirty talk, his fingers massaging your clit, his lips wrapped around your bud pushes you over the precipice and you cry out as your body trembles with ecstasy, your pussy pulses against Joel’s hand and you feel wetness slide down from your fluttering hole. Is it cum or blood, you don’t care - an ocean of bliss that Joel is giving you has washed your anxiety away, only euphoria and love fill up your chest and mind.

It feels like your orgasm lasts forever with Joel prolonging it tirelessly, his mouth and fingers playing your body like the most exquisite instrument, and he stops only when you whine with overstimulation.

You’re catching your breath, limbs tingling, eyes closing by themselves, and Joel kisses your forehead and pulls you into his arms.

“Sleep, babygirl, get some rest.”

The bedroom is dark now, illuminated only by the nightstand lamp, and you’re about to drift off but then you feel Joel hard against your thigh and your eyes snap open.

“Daddy! What about you?!”

“What about me, baby?” He chuckles. “Don’t worry your pretty head. I’ll be fine.”

You furrow your brows at him, eyes still droopy but your voice determined.

“No, daddy. I want to make you feel good too.”

You see him open his mouth to protest but you press your finger to his lips and beg,

“Please, daddy. I want him in my mouth.”

Joel growls and kisses your finger on his lips.

“He wants it too, sweetie.”

His words are soft but you hear desire loud in the way his chest rumbles with every word.

Joel leans against the headboard and you settle between his legs, your elbows planted on the bed, the towel under your pussy. You know that eating him will make you unbearably horny again so you bunch up the towel to make it perfect for humping.

A mischievous smile twists your lips and you moan wantonly when you notice a dark stain on his huge bulge.

”See what you’re doing to me, babygirl? How can you be anything but perfect?” Joel breathes out and bucks his hips, not shy about your effect on him. He’s about to pull the sweats down but you stop his hand and lightly shake your head. You press your face against the big lump and nuzzle it gently.

“What are you doing there, little girl?” Joel coos at you, feigning composure, but his voice is strained with need.

You give him a mischievous smile before your mouth opens up and you lick the fabric, tasting the saltiness of Joel’s precum, and then nudge his clothed hard-on with your tongue.

“I love feeling you like this, daddy,” you purr seductively and Joel moans.

“Fuckkkk, naughty girl.” He takes your head between his hands and slowly moves his hips up and down, grinding his stiff bulge against your tongue, your lips and your chin. The dark stain grows bigger now, your drooling mouth and his leaking cock soaking the sweats generously, but soon the edging makes Joel grit his teeth.

“Baby, quit it. Daddy needs his cock sucked.”

He’s been so sweet to you today, so supportive, you decide to be bratty some other day. You look up at him with your innocent doe eyes and breathe out,

“Yes, daddy.”

He impatiently tugs his pants and boxers down and his big gorgeous cock springs free, drops of precum flying everywhere. One lands on your lower lip and you lick it off with a hum before leaning down and tracing the underside of his length with the tip of your tongue. Slowly. Too slowly.

“Baby,” Joel rumbles with a warning and you apologetically bat your lashes at him and give into his desire.

You wrap your lips around his tip and suck on it gently for a few moments, gliding your tongue back and forth over the sensitive slit. Then you take him deeper into the hot cavern of your mouth, careful not to hurt him.

“Oh, baby, oh, yeah.”

Joel’s thumbs are rubbing your temples while his hands are guiding you, setting the rhythm, when you start bobbing your head up and down the stiff rod of his cock.

You love sucking Joel off, seeing him gone with pleasure, but what makes your pussy drip is the sounds he always makes. He doesn’t hide his ecstasy, and now he’s moaning, singing how well you’re blowing him, voice gruff but needy at the same time.

He hums softly when you caress his heavy balls and praises you so much, you wish you could suck his cock forever. Love for him grows in your belly and confidence blooms in your chest. You make him happy, you make this perfect man happy.

Your hips start moving by themselves and your pussy grinds against the soft towel. The fibers gently stimulate your clit while Joel is making love to your mouth and to your soul with his sweet words.

“Oh, yes, baby, yes—jus’ like that— so good to me— my little girl. This mouth is heaven. Ah, yes, right there, sweetie, suckle on it. Good girl. You’re perfect… perfect...”

Joel grunts and his bliss starts filling your mouth. Your own pleasure on hold, you focus on his release. His balls twitch in your hand and you slightly pull away to let his cock spill all the cum directly onto your tongue. You want to savor his taste, feel the weight of his load fully before you swallow it all in small gulps.

When his cock gives you everything to the last drop, Joel closes his eyes and rests his head against the headboard, his chest rising and falling heavily, his lips curled into a smile.

“Wow, that was —,” he pants and then looks down at you, sitting on your heels between his legs, licking your lips like a well fed cat.

“C’mere.”

His arms open up and you tentatively climb on his lap.

“But daddy… my pussy..”

”Shush, babygirl. She’s perfect and I want you both close to me.”

He pulls you down onto his chest and you wrap your arms around his waist, snuggling up to his broadness.

“I love you, daddy,” you whisper with a happy smile, filling your lungs with his scent, your heart with his love. Joel kisses the top of your head and squeezes you lightly in his arms, emphasizing his words,

“I love you too, baby. Always.”

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!

MASTERLIST || more daddy Joel

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40 @meetmeatyourworst @callmebyyournick-name

[rafes-slut]

hi hi can u write something with rafe who doesnt know how to comfort sad reader so he just… fucks her to make her stop crying 🙏🏽

Shut You Up

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x You

Warnings: Smut (18+), unprotected sex, slight dub-con (Rafe doesn’t ask for permission, but you don’t stop him), rough sex, mild choking, overstimulation, toxic dynamics, emotional manipulation, possessive Rafe, Rafe being bad at emotional comfort, crying, angst, slight aftercare.

Rafe had never been good at comforting people.

He knew how to start fights, how to finish them. He knew how to win, how to manipulate, how to force things to go his way. But when it came to soft things—handling emotions, talking through problems, wiping away tears—he was fucking useless.

That’s why your crying was driving him insane.

He had been sitting on the edge of his bed, watching you as you curled up on his mattress, sobbing into his pillow. He had tried, for all of two minutes, to awkwardly tell you that “it’s not that bad” and “you’ll be fine.” But none of it worked. You kept crying. And it made his skin crawl. Not because he didn’t care, but because he had no idea how to make it stop.

And Rafe hated feeling powerless.

So, he did the only thing he knew how to do.

Without a word, he got up, gripping your wrist and pulling you onto your back. You gasped, startled, looking up at him with wet, swollen eyes. His expression was hard—frustrated, intense.

“Rafe—”

“Shut up.” His voice was firm, low. His hands were already pushing up your shirt, his rough fingers grazing your ribs. “You’re crying over some bullshit that doesn’t matter, and I can’t fucking listen to it anymore.”

You sniffled, confusion flickering across your face, but you didn’t stop him as he pulled your shirt over your head. Maybe you knew what was coming. Maybe you wanted it.

“I-I just…”

His fingers hooked into your shorts, tugging them down your thighs in one smooth movement.

“Did I tell you to talk?” His voice was sharp, impatient.

You shivered.

Your panties were soaked, and Rafe smirked when he noticed. “Oh, so you like this?” He let his fingers trail between your legs, pressing against the damp fabric. “You like crying in my bed and then letting me fuck it out of you?”

You whimpered, and he took that as a yes.

Rafe wasn’t gentle. He never was. He shoved his own clothes off, not bothering to take his time. His cock was already hard, leaking against his stomach as he spread your thighs wider, settling between them.

He didn’t prep you. He didn’t ask if you were ready. He just pushed inside, groaning at the way your walls clenched around him. You gasped, your fingers gripping at his arms.

“Rafe—”

He grabbed your jaw, squeezing your cheeks until your lips parted. “I told you to shut the fuck up.” His thrusts were deep, rough, each one pressing the breath from your lungs. “You wanna cry? I’ll give you something to cry about.”

You didn’t stop crying—but now it was for an entirely different reason.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as pleasure mixed with the remnants of your sadness, your body trembling beneath him. Rafe leaned down, his mouth brushing over your damp skin, his teeth scraping against your throat.

“Fucking take it,” he growled.

You did. You took everything he gave you. His cock hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur, his hands gripping your body like he owned it, his pace relentless.

Your orgasm crashed over you before you could even think to fight it, a strangled moan ripping from your throat as your back arched. Rafe didn’t stop. He didn’t slow down. If anything, he went harder, chasing his own high.

You whimpered as overstimulation settled in, but he didn’t let up. “You can handle it,” he muttered. “You can take it. You’re a big girl, right?”

You didn’t answer, too lost in the pleasure, too lost in him.

Rafe groaned, his thrusts growing sloppy as he reached his limit. He buried himself deep, spilling inside you with a strangled curse. For a moment, he stayed there, catching his breath, his weight heavy on top of you.

Then, finally, he pulled out, his release dripping from your swollen cunt. He looked down at you, still wrecked, still trembling. His brows furrowed.

“…Feel better?”

You let out a shaky breath.

Yeah. You did.

[idontmindifuforgetme]

megan thee stallion is the perfect example of unbothered energy. nicki has repeatedly vagueposted about her, gone on unhinged rants about her, gone so far as to mention her dead mother (such a classless low blow), threatened her on live, and has now released the tackiest diss track in history. and what has megan done? literally nothing. she straight up ignored her, aside from that one ig story where she posted herself laughing (which was perfect btw). she is the epitome of “i will not dignify that w a response.” i love it.

[jazforthesoul]

every time someone reduces CAPTAIN !!! elizabeth "lizzie" lafayette down to "a sad lesbian" a fairy dies bc i shoot it with my gun. like you're telling me you were spoon-fed a character that has one of the most realistic and RAW representations of grief and perseverance in the series and all you got from that was "she's sad" ????

is she a constantly happy character? Fuck no! that's acknowledged!! but to take EVERYTHING that she is, which has positive and negative aspects THAT ARE BOTH SHOWN, to take the fact that she is THE DRIVING FORCE OF THE MAIN BACKGROUND PLOT, and reduce her down to NOTHING but her relationships?? ?what the hell!!!

[mrmeepsmadmind]

i love when ppl draw bumblebee like the happy little creachure he is but also i love when people draw bumblebee like he's had 500 beers in the last 1 hour and still the pain won't even ebb

[lotus-pear]

finally started p5 royal ‼️‼️‼️‼️

expect some royal trio art soon they are my dearly beloveds (minus akechi i hope he dies in this reality too)

[constantvariations]

Since tumblr decided to be a dick and not put my last post in rwde and I don't feel like retyping all my tags, here's those tags expanded as their own post

So. Themes. Super important for a story if you want to have any depth. Super easy to fuck up

What always sniped my snout about the trailers is how the Black Trailer is the strongest in terms of story because its theme is made abundantly clear and the path ahead exciting. "Are casualties acceptable in the name of a good cause?" has been asked a thousand times and gotten a thousand answers. It's a difficult enough question in real life but even harder in fiction because of how grounded it has to be in the worldbuilding and plot and characters

That last one starts off so well, too. Adam is firmly in Camp Casualties while Blake holds a more tentative counter position. In just a few minutes with minimal dialogue, the writers established the base of these characters and what their entire story would be about. This setup promised a veritable feast of drama and philosophy, made even spicier by the obvious bond the two shared

Yet the Black Trailer may as well be a fart in the wind for all the show cared. Not only does Adam not properly appear until three years in, he can no longer perform his original function as thematic counterpart due to Cinder calling the shots the moment the events of the BT are over. All the casualties seen are of the White Fang themselves, sacrificed on the altar of Cinder and Salem’s plan to... gain power and destroy the world, I think?

(Hard to remember when we, both hero and audience, had to wait almost a decade for the reason the story is happening, and the payoff just sank the show further into debt)

As bad as that is, nothing is more disappointing than Blake never being able to explore and embody her own theme. Whenever she gets challenged on her stance, not once does she rise to the occassion and proclaim why she's right to believe what she believes. The only thing she believes is that Adam (violence) is wrong and needs to be stopped. She doesn't face any hardships or loss for choosing peace over violence, instead getting handed victory after victory because her opposition keeps getting hit with the stupid cupid stick

The closest Adam and Blake ever got to fulfilling that original theme is at Beacon, and it's so weak and shallow and overshadowed by "mY dArLiNg" that it's hardly worth talking about. The writers' choice to switch from "are casualties acceptable" to "running away is the only way to protect your friends" with no bridge or closure is truly astounding

They could have done both. Even a world told through the narrow narrative lens is big enough to contain multiple themes at once, and they can be used in tandem to create insane amounts of depth. RWBY was a highly ambitious and very large project, so having multiple themes was pretty much guaranteed, but because the writers lacked skill and passion, they subtracted themes instead of building them, and the entire show is worse off for it

[robotsafari]

i havent even watched legacy yet but that fucking kh world did some.. unexpected things to me (update: i watched it. the movie was okay. <- short for im deranged about it but it missed so much opportunities and omfg i cant list all of my thoughts here.)

[forestgreenlesbian]

.

[pianapplez]

Hello there 👋👀,

So I just found your blog and had a lot of fun scrolling through all the pjo show crit😂 I couldn't help but notice that one tag you left on a post where you said you had some beef with Annabeth's portrayal in the books 👀 Would you mind elaborating on that if you're comfortable with it🙈? Because I absolutely share that sentiment, but it's sooo veeeery rare that I see other people express anything like it... I've found that trying to be a part of the fandom can be pretty alienating most of the time, if you're not exactly the biggest most devoted Percabeth shipper...😅 And often any criticism leveled at Annabeth just gets you a smack with the "internalized-misogyny" hammer... it's even worse in the tv show now due to... obvious reasons...

Again just if you're comfortable with answering of course🙈 There is a reason I stayed on anon after all...😅😂

Really glad you asked because i finally get to ramble about this heheheh (going forward, know that i skimmed over The Last Olympian to have a clearer sense of what I meant because that's the book where Rick fumbles her character more than the others)

i'm gonna try to make as much sense as possible but short answer would be, she's underdeveloped. Long answer:

She really got on my nerves in the last two books, with the whole Rachel debacle and then the Battle of New York. I can't really remember a single moment in those books where she and Percy aren't bickering or having heated discussions, which really made me question their friendship status. Of course, it's not like friends can't fight and it obviously builds up the (romantic) tension between them, but it got unbearable at one point.

I understand she's a teenager in an incredibly stressful situation that didn't even get to have a normal upbringing- she grew up way too fast (run away at 7, head counselor at 12) while also not really maturing, which is not a problem for a character, if it is handled properly. Given the fact that I am writing this, Riordan did not.

On the surface, my biggest beef is that Annabeth is not exactly held accountable for her actions (ie. treating Rachel a bit like shit and going off on Percy for a bunch of stuff.) I know Percy is to blame a bit here: as far as we know, in TLO he basically cuts the greek world out of his life as much as he can as a coping mechanism. And while yes, he never apologizes either, he doesn't give her nearly half the hard time she gives him: always either giving him the cold shoulder (there must be at least one example of this in the entire series but i cant be bothered to look it up sorry) or starting an argument only to then storm off (see the "you're a coward, Percy Jackson!" scene, which is not the fairest example since she was confronting Percy about ignoring camp but also was a bit too harsh about it) (especially after finally reading the prophecy and being under the impression that he was absolutely going to die when he turned 16 lmao) or just straight up storming off (see, Annabeth reacting when Rachel shows up for the first time during the battle of new york). While most of these feel, at least to some degree, fairly justified given how the entire situation does an absolute number on her emotions, she comes off a bit brattish and like she's trying to rile Percy up, especially when it comes to Rachel, which in the context of a battle that could mean the destruction of the world.... Well, it reads as a bit childish to me, and i wouldn't exactly have that much of a problem with it if it was dealt with in some way (a two-way apology would be nice).

After that first impression, i realized that Annabeth is barely ever anything else other than a plot device (when relating to Luke) or a love interest (when relating to Percy). This might be because the books are on Percy's POV. Hell, on the third book he's even conflicted when Annabeth is considering joining the Hunters of Artemis, aka, when making a choice for herself would mean he loses her (which is fine and dandy but it feels like Percy is more upset about her choosing her own path rather than being sad about not seeing her as often); we really only get a few glimpses of her, as in, actually her when she's on her own.

Obviously it's impossible to talk about Annabeth without touching on percabeth, which also is, in my opinion, what hinders Annabeth's character the most. On paper they sound great. The guy whose fatal flaw is loyalty falls in love with a girl whose been let down by people over and over, and she decides to never give up on the boy whose always had people give up on him (can't find one of the million posts that talks about this right now but it always goes something like that) And yeah, the bickering is really well written! But that's literally as far as it ever goes: they don't ever seem to have fun together, because 8 times out of 10 the bickering ends up being passive aggressive, and mostly done by Annabeth. My biggest gripe about percabeth is that their friendship seems to be based off... shared trauma. Literally. Other than going on quests together we are given no examples of them hanging out, nor a reason why they would want to spend time together in the first place, not even a shared hobby. Yes, in the fourth book they had a movie "date" planned but of course they didn't even get to it, and surprise surprise, they had a minor discussion, and surprise surprise, Annabeth was passive aggressive again. It's hard to picture them having fun together when even the author doesn't write in any scenes in which they get along smoothly (and before you say anything, a scene in which they get along where neither of them is about to die, and they're not talking about previous adventures. Gets a bit hard then, doesn't it?) It's even harder to picture them as a couple when the moment she gets upset about something, she starts coming off as emotionally manipulative (see, again, literally any conversation with Rachel or about Rachel)

To be fair, the books are relatively short and don't allow many "filler" chapters, if you will; there's always something happening to keep the main plot or a minor plot point moving forward, but it's not like there is no room to develop the characters' relationships, especially when we're talking about the main char and what is essentially his endgame. As an example we have Percy and Clarisse, or Percy and Beckendorf. Their interactions are brief but still hold so much weight.

Worst of all, Annabeth could be one hell of a character; what's most interesting of all is how being a daughter of Athena she is still incredibly emotionally driven, which is displayed very clearly with her fatal flaw being pride: her telling the Sphynx that her questions were too easy was not smart nor strategic: it was completely impulsive. I seriously think she wasn't far from being the best character in the series had she been given more time.

I guess i have as much beef with Annabeth as i have with Rick for doing her dirty. I really could sum this up with: while her emotions are justified, she acts upon them quite poorly. And this is what i mean when i say she's underdeveloped, because it would've been nice to see her come to her senses a bit.

Would love to read anyone's opinions on her character though, feel free to comment, even (or especially) if you don't agree with me!

[master-of-the-railway]

Gordon would kill for the girls actually in my mind. He used to be upset that his old friends moved to other places on the island, but while it still hurts sometimes, he's grown to love Nia and Rebecca dearly. Do NOT fucking insult them in his presence those are HIS girls and he WILL do everything in his power to protect them. He's like the scary worker who would choke a man to death to protect his fellow coworkers. He's everyone's dad.

[nonsensechemicals]

crying whenever i talk about Cookie9 because all my friends have these interesting and unique theories on them while i take everything too literally and they all just stare at me like “dude… uuugh we r TIRED” <-they dont actually say this they are very kind to me but i can Feel It

[kavehayati]

Chappel Roan saying she’s sad she’s demisexual and then there’s me being aroace as a whole like don’t you think I’m even more sad 😭

[yet-another-dedication]

It’s the girls you had mild homoerotic platonic entirely too close friendships with that DONT block you and leave it on blurred terms that hurt the most. Like we’re still mutuals on various social media. I still see the post recommended to me only because you liked or reposted them. I still see the way you smile in your most recent selfies. I feel so disconnected from your life and story but watch you like you a museum of all the things I miss. Another strangers muse, another strangers love and work I can see it in your eyes. Forever a shame it’s not mine.

[widevibratobitch]

something about being told im 'the leading person at this whole academy when it comes to interpretation and stage intelligence' by the husband of the woman im trying (not really. but i mean. who knows) to seduce... ok boy you got me. lets make it a polycule.