#Need him biblically

[theagenes]

Art Donaldson | Challengers (2024)

[cherryfrosted]

how am i supposed to write my bachelors thesis when he is all i can think about

[theorist-fox]

The concept of Bad Man Simon Riley who's aware he's a Bad Man™️ is one I hold very dear to me.

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Simon Riley is, fully and completely, what people envision as a bad man. He's a convoluted character who carries a lot of baggage, and that same weight has crushed him into the beast he is today.

His reflection is his constant reminder of the bad things he's done and endured. And when you have such a blatant, ever-present memento of how dark you really are, it's hard to forget.

He doesn't bother putting up a facade. Won't help the lady cross the street, nor will he take a bullet for someone else. No one has ever done that for him, so it's only natural to give the world a taste of its own medicine. He doesn't even try; it just happens.

It takes him nothing to leave Soap behind in Las Almas and find shelter in an abandoned church. Sure, he'll cover for him—if the lad is fast enough, that is. Saving Alejandro afterwards is a mere ploy to make this blasted mission end sooner—true, no one fights alone, but he'd like to get out of there as soon as possible, thank you very much.

Barely brushes the concept of Price's injury when he faints due to the inhalation of some Sarin gas of sorts. Can only think that if he'd died, he would have to take the captain's place in leading the operation. A fucking bummer alright—but cap's fine, thankfully, right? One less thing to worry about now.

Won't try to start relationships, because what good can he bring when he can't even drop a kind word for himself? He's awful, inside and out, and he's aware.

What happens, then, when he's suddenly loved?

What happens, then, when you're sliding under his skin, pretending you don't see the rot and the grime?

The question of "why" is pinned to the front of his brain like an annoying leech that plagues him day and night.

On the couch, you're absolutely unbothered by his dark presence next to you. You're just munching on popcorn and watching some film he doesn't even remember the name of.

"Y'should go," he says out of the blue.

You barely spare him a glance. "Film's not over yet."

No, that isn't what he meant, but he has an inkling that you've gathered that already.

"Ain't good for ya," he insists. "Ain't good for anyone, but that's a whole 'nother story."

You side-eye him from your end of the couch. "Self-deprecating at dinner time? Could you move it up the schedule a little, like—breakfast or somethin'."

He doesn't understand. Won't get through his skull. Share a home with him, and for what? What's he giving you that you're coveting so hard, enough to find it easy to snark back at a beast like him—poking the bear while wearing flimsy cotton shorts and a band t-shirt?

"Y'don't understand," he grits out. "I ain't a good man, love."

"Oh, I know." You say, popping a handful of popcorns in your mouth. "And?"

It irks him. Wants to bite off your head, but, surprisingly, he still has morals, and he wouldn't even dare touch you with ill intent.

"Don't act stupid, now." He warns.

"Ain't acting stupid." You reply as if there is some obvious thing he isn't getting. "You've done bad things, and bad things were done to you. That it?"

He hums as a frown paints his face.

"Should I love you less?" You go on, "Or not love you at all?"

"The latter."

"Wrong." You add as soon as he responds. "Wrong, because that's what you believe, not the truth."

He cocks a brow at your apparent arrogance. A nod in your direction, "What's the truth, then?"

You place the bucket of popcorn on the coffee table. "Truth is that you're human, Simon."

Now that's a word he wouldn't associate with himself.

Monster. Beast. Bear. Wraith, or demon. Ghost.

"As a person, good and bad can coexist—there is no such thing as night and day." You go on, seemingly unaware of the turmoil you've unleashed on his poor heart.

Keep saying the word person around him this often, and he'll start believing he is one.

So, you have seen the rotten flesh and the mud coating his insides. You have buried your hands in his viscera and coated your skin with his blood and the one he's spilled.

You know, and yet you're here. You're here because you've also seen something else, something he's not aware is there.

Same thing that made his heart lurch when Price wasn't waking up. Same thing that made him hide, prone in the bell tower of a Mexican church, making sure Soap would get back in one piece.

Same thing that has him gaze at you now, with eyes that sting with clear, fresh water. No rotting liquid, no oozing pus, or sickening blood.

You shrug, "Maybe your sun is a little eclipsed, but there's that. I can still see it, y'know?"

You outstretch your leg. Press the tips of your toes against his thigh. The world is suddenly in technicolor, and his chest warms like a rekindled flame.

You wink. "And it's bright as hell, too."

[chxrrysangel]

Thinking really hard about Mr. Logan Howlett this week. Haven’t even watched Deadpool & Wolverine yet but the Hugh Jackman renaissance is making me FERAL.

ANYWAYS

Logan has always been a hands on kind of guy. Always the “better to do it yourself than trust someone else” you know? So when your dear next neighbor has some car issues, he refuses to call up the local mechanic.

It’s summer, 90+ degrees outside and humid like a motherfucker. On what’s typically a quiet morning during days like this, too hot for even the local kids to venture outside, you hear some clinking and what sounds oddly enough like a drill. Peeking through the curtains, your eyes scan the mostly empty street to see Logan bent over the hood of his car.

And he’s shirtless.

Even from this distance, you can see his flushed skin glisten with sweat as he works. You fall into a daze, how could you not? It would take being blind to not notice how hot your neighbor was, and your brain never failed to forget it. His jeans hung somewhat low on his hips, hugging his strong thighs in a way that made anyone salivate with need. His back muscles were a sight to behold, straining and shifting as he worked.

He wiped the sweat off his brow, turning around to lean against the bumper. You panicked, ducking your head out of his sight. You angled yourself in a way that would hopefully obscure your compromising position, decreasing your chances of a potential complaint. From this new position, you found it even harder to move away from the window. He was perfect chiseled and toned, almost as if he was crafted by the gods themselves.

“Fucking hell,” you whispered.

The longer you stared was the more flushed you felt, unable to pull away as he moved to work under the car. The two of you hadn’t spoken more than a minute at a time, but his charming demeanor quickly enticed you. Just then, you got an idea.

Scrambling to the kitchen and almost slipping on the hardwood, you gathered your ingredients. By the looks of it, he’d be outside for quite a while. What kind of neighbor would you be if you didn’t offer him a drink?

A little bit later, you stood in front of the mirror trying to work up some courage. Giving yourself a little pep talk and a little minute shot of liquid courage, you ventured outside with a tray and the brightest smile you could muster. Upon hearing your footsteps and the soft clinks of ice, he turned around before you had the chance to call out.

And he smiled, canines on full display and cheekbones puffy with glee.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Your cheeks heat up at his compliment, feeling bashful.

“Stop, you’re too kind.”

“Never that,” he retorted with a wink. He points to the strawberry printed tray in your arms.

“Some of that for me?”

“As a matter of fact, it is. Thought you could use a drink.” He gushed, taking the tall glass cup gratefully. You set down the pitcher and tray on his tool kit, planning to come back for it later.

“Well uh…call me if you need anything else yeah?”

He didn’t respond at first, choosing that moment to make your escape before you ran your mouth.

“Wait.” You paused mid-step, turning back to face him.

“I could use some company…if you don’t mind that is.”

“No, no. I’d like that,” you responded, stumbling over your words.

“Yeah?,” he said with a boyish surprise in his tone. You assured him with a nod and smile.

“Lemme get you a seat then. Be right back.” You watched as he wiped the grease off his hands, jogging past you to get a chair from inside. Even covered in sweat and grime, he was hottest man you’ve ever seen.

[emichevy]

Kurt Wagner the man that you are….

More sketches because MORE NEW BRUShes

When a new brush makes you change your artstyle- brush theory go crazy

[stargirlrchive]

ok but neighbor!simon who’s so fucking smitten w you that he’s memorized your routine.

knowing exactly what time you get home from work so he’s waiting by his mailbox to act busy. just so he can catch one of your pretty little smiles you always give him.

or going over to your house and asking for sugar bc he’s randomly baking cookies and gasp he forgot to buy sugar

using the excuse to invite you over and gift you said cookies as a thank you.

(you don’t mention how you see the sugar bag behind some groceries bc he’s so cute)

purposely giving you some of his tupperware so you have to see him again to give it back.

[ye4gerz]

i’m actually crashing out guys

[burnforyou]

[farosdaughter]

Leslie Howard in The Petrified Forest (1936)

[leaentries]

need a sloppy, desperate, makeout sesh with luke rn

i’m talking slow and deep, luke’s hands are gripping your hips, thighs, belly, basically anything soft and squishy about you. his tongue is halfway down your throat and he can’t stop the breathy groans and whines that leave his lips. he doesn’t stop himself from pulling you onto his lap and grinding his throbbing cock against you bc it just hurts so bad :(((

[aivilo]

sometimes babygirl is a 34 year old man.png

[starkeysbabygirl]

me 24/7 now

[piastrisun]

i’m soooo writing about this.

[millervrse]

cw: 18+, mdni, smut, daddy kink, breeding kink.

❛ imagine joel miller ❜ stretching you out on his fat cock. watching his dick slip in and out of your pretty pussy as you ride him, moving deliberately slow so he can etch the erotic view into his memory. “fuck, look at that, baby. look how well she’s takin’ me,” joel groans, fingers digging into your hips to guide you, unaware that you’ve been moaning for the last minute about how he’s going too deep. “daddy, please. too much, s- slow down,” you whine, like he isn’t already going slow enough. but it’s the fact that he’s stretching your cunt like it’s rubber, and his thick cock is pushing deep into your walls. “you can take it, sweetheart. know you can,” joel murmurs more to himself than to you, bottom lip between his teeth as he presses his fingers to your abdomen, groaning at the way your stomach bulges with each thrust in and out of your wet cunt. “gonna fuck my babies in this belly at this rate, baby. feel how deep i am?” joel coos, like you actually don’t fucking feel it. “yes, joel,” you moan. “need you to, f- fuck, fuck your babies into me.” joel smirks up at you, fingers dancing at your hips as he guides you up and down. “yeah, baby? need my babies in this cute belly of yers? yeah, make you a mama?”

[stargirlrchive]

toxic!roommate simon would probably beat the fuck out a guy if he sees you flirting with another. would beat him to pulp that his face ain’t even going to be recognizable anymore. ending it with ‘stay. the fuck. away. from her’ and spit on his face. jesus I’m fucking deranged

no im actually so unwell, he’s such a lil shit but he’s intentions are good… sorta

but can u imagine, like ur so confused over whatever the hell is going on w u and simon bc he gives you so much affection and tenderness then leaves you desperate and yearning after anything happens.

but when you mention that you’re going out he gets all pissy, especially when he sees what you’re wearing.

he follows you, obviously. and you’re completely unaware. his sweet girl, always so oblivious.

and when he sees that slimy ass guy gripping at your waist and touching on you, he gets blinded with anger.

the anger and ache in his chest eases, only a bit, when he sees you gently pushing the man away. excusing yourself as you walk towards the bathroom.

and he sees the man you were dancing with you follow after you, the lazy smirk on his face instantly wiped away as simon yanks him back and slams him so hard into the nearest wall that his vision goes blurry.

growling in his ear to leave you the fuck alone.

and the satisfaction that licks at simon as he notices the fear in his eyes is unlike anything else. shoving him back one last time before he walks over to wait for you.

you practically stumble into his chest and your lips part when you realize it’s simon. your simon.

you’re about to ask him what he’s doing here but his lips hover over yours before his fingers grip at your hips, tugging you closer.

his lips brush against your ear before he nips at it softly, “time to get you home, sweet girl.”

[lichenes]

Omg Ski Aggu requests?? Thank you! 😭 💕

Can I ask for a situation where Aggu is ticklish but he keeps it very low profile in order to keep his “cool persona” but then reader finds out that he’s ticklish

Finally Aggu ask!!! I've been waaaaiting. The gif relays exactly what i think abt him. Aggu is the loml. Send me more Aggu asks!!

CW: kissin, cigs, alcohol, ooc.... sorry :|

wc: 483

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You were looking at him from across the room, trying to catch him staring. You must’ve looked insane, your friends around you distracting you from the blonde, incessantly pointing towards him and ‘ooo’ing. “Shut the fuck up.” You said to one of them when he turned his head towards you. You gave him a bright smile and he smiled back from behind the goggles. 

The oohs got louder after that, fortunately they were quiet enough to not raise his suspicions. This cat and mouse play has been going throughout the whole night. It took everything from you not to walk up to him and kiss his stupid mouth. He kept talking to all his - you assumed - friends and didn’t have a moment to rest and talk to you. The indomitable human spirit was real and you were embodying it right in this moment.

You went to the bathroom hoping to cool down after the whole ordeal. You looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed. It’s go time. 

“Hi!” You introduced yourself to him when you caught him finally alone in the kitchen. “Hello.” He said looking you up and down, not like you’d see from behind the goggles. You introduced yourself. “Gorgeous name for a gorgeous person.” He said, laughing slightly at the corniness. “Was wonderin’ when you’d talk to me.” 

Your face got hotter, your hands started sweating and your heart seemed to rush a million miles an hour. Shit. He noticed. He was sitting in an open window, the moonlight illuminating his features just as well as the burning out lightbulb did. 

“Sorry, I didn’t want to seem like a creep.” You said, almost giving up. He leaned against the counter. “No worries sweetheart.” He said making you malfunction. He was… bold. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Want one?” You shook your head. “Too bad, come sit with me.” 

You spent the next minutes getting to know him, asking him about his music career, his humble beginnings and why did he wear those goggles. “‘s just fun. The mystery of it all you know?” You chuckled.

You were both joking about something when you poked his side by accident while gesturing wildly. He recoiled. “Is everything okay?” You asked worried you’d upset him. “‘s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” He was ticklish, you realised. From then on you teased him relentlessly about it.

You were smoking a cig passing it to him occasionally - an indirect kiss - you thought. “What, like you like being tickled.” He said his goggles not hiding the blush that was sprawled across his face. You laughed, the alcohol you ingested for bravery before the conversation evaporated the second he smiled. He leaned in closer.

You felt yourself turning sober suddenly. He pressed his lips to yours. They were chapped and the cigs were evident on his breath but at that moment - you didn’t mind. 

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