#this physically pained me but i had so much fun with it at the same time.

[figofswords]

the post grad why did i get an art degree what am i even doing what do i want in life where am i going crisis has finally hit i want to. lie down in the dirt. or something

[icewindandboringhorror]

feeling sick constantly in the background all the time is like.. usually negligible-ish.. until multiple various chronic background issues all happen to overlap at once and then it’s like 

[local-lover-boy]

*teeth clenched with pain*

we'll do fine.

[beanlot]

indecision

ellie wants you back, even though she ended the relationship.

wc: 2.1k (angst + smudge of fluff)

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

“just get it over with, please.” she exhales jaggedly, smell of rubbing alcohol poisoning your nose as you apply pressure onto her wound. she’d been shot with an arrow, one you’d had to snap to pull out of her, but it’s nothing she hasn’t handled before.

she didn’t squirm, or whine when you bandaged her up. she sat still and took it, clenching onto the old and tattered leather seat.

you’d dated ellie for a shaky and indulgent two years before. your relationship at first was it - it was her looking at you when she’d done something clumsy or funny in hopes to see you laugh, it was holding each other tightly after you’d gotten separated, it was her lips kissing at your skin fruitfully. you remember it so clear.

“mm. baby.. baby..” you hear her voice, low and groggy. you’ve woken her up, shuffling around endlessly for half an hour trying to sleep. “baby.. shh. relax.. relax with me, you’re fine.” her hand settles on your hip, and she’d bring you in closer, tatted arm ravelling around your stomach. she was so gentle, so guiding, so protecting. “shh.. i’m here. i’m here, my love..”

ellie felt bad for ending it, it was necessary. there were times where she’d refuse to communicate, you would lose your temper, and start yelling at each other. you’ve grown hard around the edges over the years, your skin is scarred and tormented. it’s not your fault.

“oh shut the fuck up, ellie!” you spat at her. truth is, your arguments brewed for a few weeks. it started with glares, sly comments and ignoring eachother until it erupted. “you always do this, speaking to me like you’re so much better just becau-“

“speaking to you like what? just because i don’t sit on my ass here all day whilst everyone else does the work?”

the best thing to do was to break up, for both of your sakes. you were fine with it at first, you knew it was for the fucking best. you were starting to despise eachother’s company; you knew you’d get over it. because just like the scars and torment weren’t your fault, ellie was often blinded by hatred and impulse, it’s how the world shaped her.

“you know what.. i think.. we should just.. stop.” ellie scoffs.

“stop what?”

“us. it’s not fucking working. i can’t stand you.”

but what you couldn’t get over was overhearing her speak with dina, flirty and sultry tones bouncing back and forth between them a week later. they’d slept together, not long after that breakup.

and here you are, a few months later, knelt in front of her to relieve her physical pain.

“thanks..” a quiet whisper left her as you shoved the materials back into your bag. you’re still on high alert, ellie says that you always are, it’s like walking on eggshells being in a room with you.

she watches as you keep your eyes on the windows, peering through the blinds, your pupils narrow like the scope of a sniper. she tries to lighten the mood, tries to relax you a little. “a year ago, you would’ve passed out.” she jokes, a breathy laugh leaving her. but you don’t laugh.

i think that’s also what ate away at ellie during the end of the relationship. you used to have fun, and live, and look forward to the next day. but you’re a different mind in the same shell she used to love, and part of her believes she’s accountable for not being there for you.

you hear her whisper, as you sink into the chair opposite her, your head leant back towards the ceiling. “you okay..?” her voice is cautious, but she knows what’s up, she’s not stupid.

“fine.” you state bluntly.

it’s silent. she feels hopeless. you’re so cold now. but on the bright side, at least she no longer has to listen to your words of kindness easing her through the pain.

“i’m sorry. for it.” you hear her. she’s darting her eyes around your body, the long scar under your jawline, the scratches on your wrist from trying to slice nettles out of the way. you try not to smile at her apology, because it’s pathetic. “it’s whatever.” you respond, your voice uninterested.

you feel sour thinking about it now, actually. you could’ve left her to those hunters, left her to infected, left her to bleed out and clean her wounds herself. “did you enjoy it?” you impulsively ask her, a saltiness to your tone that she was anticipating.

her stomach still drops though, and she can sense the eggshells cracking around her. “what?” she mutters, her eyes narrowing at you as you look at her. you used to look at her with delicacy, adoration, desire. but now your eyes are empty, glossed over; ellie could only describe it as you looking through people rather than actually looking at them.

“you know. sleeping with her that quickly, was she good? worth?”

it’s silent, and you’re both staring at eachother with challenging eyes of contempt. she gets it, understands your anger, yet she also can’t seem to wrap her head around your entitlement. “what are you sa-“

“scale of 1 to 10.”

“what the fuck are you saying?” ellie’s voice goes up a pitch. she wish she could stand up and grab your throat, try and knock some sense into you. but not only is the pain in her shin holding her back, it’s also the fact you’d hold up an ambiguous fight. “are you serious?” she leans forward in disbelief.

but when you don’t respond, your gaze unfaltering, she sighs.

“i don’t know.. like.. an eight, i guess..”

it was a rhetorical question, asshole.

you’re sure she answered it out of spite, and you feel internal rage. but you don’t let it show, you just nod with pursed lips. “i’m happy for you.” you state coldly. you wish you had the heart to just leave her here, take shimmer up north back to jackson, but you don’t.

it’s silent for a few minutes. she’s often glancing back at you, already regretting her answer. although it was a truthful answer, she should have kept her mouth shut. but the damage has already been done, she sees it honing on your face as you look elsewhere.

“i’m..” she starts, sighing. “i’m sorry.. that was fucked, it’s all fucked.” she shakes her head. you’d been forgiving and graceful enough to snap an arrow and pull it out her leg, bandage it up for her. and yet she sits here as if she uses that same arrow to pierce at your heartstrings, play you like an instrument, even if you act as if it’s not affecting you under your stoic mask.

“can you come here…

please..?”

you look at her, and her eyes are brimmed with vulnerability. you stay in your seat for quite some time, until you muster up the patience to approach her.

she feels you dip into the space beside her. she wants to reach out, touch your skin, marshmallow you up how she used to. but she knows she can’t, she has no right. “you don’t have to forgive me.. i just..” she whispers. “i wanna say i fucked it all up, for us. i know i did..”

you digest her words, your eyes darting around the ceiling in contemplation.

“i just don’t..” she pauses, her eyes ponder down to her thighs, and then down to her bandage that you had wrapped. she’s trying to word her next sentence without it sounding so morbid, but she cant. “i don’t wanna lose you one day, knowing you hated me.” she murmurs, waiting for an inkling of emotion on your face - anything, she’ll take anything - but it doesn’t come.

she’s dreamt about it. having you in her arms, choking on your own blood, using your last efforts just to spit out a malicious i hate you.

“i thought the.. whatever with dina would’ve got rid of you.” ellie squeezes her nose bridge, trying to explain in a way that doesn’t sound so bullshit. she doesn’t want to say that she had sex with her, even though that’s what it was. “i fucked her over too.. she didn’t do anything wrong, but she was.. just there.”

wow, you really are a scummy piece of shit, els.

she knows what you’re thinking when she looks over at you, your eyes nailing into her. “i know..” she whispers, and you notice her hand slowly raising, hesitant to graze your own. you flinch when she does this, and she notices your hand inching away from hers. “i know it sounds bad. because it is, it’s my fault.”

she looks down at your hand, her eyes desperate, pupils dilated when they look at you. “please let me..” her voice is tender, affectionate with you. you’re invested in it slightly, letting her nails run along your palm, her touch a wintry feather tickling your skin.

“i just.. i’ll do anything. anything to make it up to you, no matter how long it takes.” she whispers, and you feel her touch leaving your hand. you feel like ice when it does, only to feel piping hot again when she cups your cheek. it’s intimate, but it’s genuine: it’s regret and sorrow, self-hatred and adoration. “i just want you to know, that i know i’m a fucking asshole, i still am..”

“you make me sick.” your voice is piercing and cold towards her. but she understands your rage, and she takes it, absorbing it with accountability. “i needed you. and you fucking left me.”

ellie’s gaze is weak. she’s thinking of your pain, of your scar-covered back and tormented bruises. the ones she couldn’t be there to kiss and treat. when you had came back from torrington after a few weeks’ travel, and she had heard from maria that you were ‘all kinds of fucked up’ and ‘in need of stitches’ under the jaw, she’d dissociated for hours in her room.

she could’ve been there, could’ve helped stop the bleeding, could’ve killed the bastards who had done it to you. prevented it in the first place. you were always there for every tear that dropped from her pretty eyes, every injury, every nightmare. and yet you did it all alone.

“i know.. i know.” she whispers, and you close your eyes when you feel her forehead press against yours. it’s not romantic, it’s just impulse. she wants to just feel close with you again, absorb your warmth, feel the safe haven she neglected and left to rot. “i’ll do anything. you have no idea. anything, i’m begging you.”

you can feel her breath, she’s so close to you, so hurt. she knows she has so many - too many - amendments to make for you.

“i almost died yesterday.”

her whisper is faint, and her eyes are focused on everything, yet nothing at the same time. glossed over in daydream, inanimate and empty. “we were.. i don’t know, going down the southeast, by those cabins..” she tries to recall, memories blurred with the overwhelming poison of your ill feelings towards her. “this guy.. i was just on the floor suddenly, and he’s coming down at me with an axe.

and if it wasn’t for jesse, i would’ve..” she continued, pausing before her eyes glint. “but in my last fucking moments, all i could see was your face. and i just.. i didn’t feel fear, i just.. felt so much regret. and, love. worried about what would happen to you after.”

her words were reluctant at first, but came streamlining out of her mouth when she’s reminded of each emotion that came with having her back against the mud, life flashing between her eyes, the split-second images of your pretty face next to the fireplace. the way you called her name, ellie, so vanilla. so clean. so smooth.

“i felt like.. i just should’ve told you everything, talked it out. i don’t want you to feel bad for me. i’m just.. i am begging you..” she repeats, a faint and delicate whisper against your lips. “if you want me to disappear, i’ll go. i’ll never bother you, you’ll never see me again in that fucking town..”

something about that proposal doesn’t sit right with your heart, or your head. you can’t tell. a part of you wants to slap the shit out of her, and another part wants to kiss at those lips - not out of love, but out of hateful lust.

“but please.. give me a chance to fix it.”

you sluggishly and reluctantly pull away from her, and watch as her gaze softens into disappointment. “i should.. go check on shimmer.” you whisper, rising to your feet, emotionally warped. “you just.. sit here and rest..”

as you start walking backwards and turn away from her, you can just hear all the emotions inside screeching in your head. it’s loud, blinding, deafening; you know ellie experiences it too, the same voices that just get too much. maybe that’s what dina was to her, white noise to dilute them.

she wants to chase you back, grab your wrist and talk it out. but the throbbing tremors from her wounded leg force her to slump back down into the chair with a defeated sigh. she lets you go, just this time, not willingly.

[taintedcigs]

— cowboy hat rule.

pairing: cowboy!steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising, kinda degrading but not really, a lil argument, dom!steve, rivals to fcking, swearing, good old bj for our good boy stevie! reader has a nickname 'sunshine' bc i didn't wanna do y/n sorry:(

summary: helping out mr. harrington in his ranch was supposed to be fun, but steve harrington was an asshole. an absolute pain in your ass that teased you, and you gave him the same energy back, always. so when you unknowingly wear his cowboy hat, he decides to teach you what exactly the cowboy hat rule is. (wc: 5k+)

author's note: this is just horny babbling. i have no idea how cowboy lore works so if im wrong pls just close ur eyes i tried to research but i couldnt find shit just pls i just want cowboy steve dick. and ofc no proof-reading bc im lazy as hell. no dividers ugly aesthetic bc of tumblrs f ass not showing my shit in tags SIGH.

also PLSSS LIKE + REBLOG + COMMENT TO SUPPORT ME MWAH ILY

When you told Mr. Harrington you’d be more than happy to help around his Ranch during the summer, you didn’t expect Steve to become a problem, but you were wrong, so fucking wrong. 

A cocky cowboy who’s way too into partying and into his looks and his fluffy hair than you could ever imagine. That’s exactly how you’d describe Steve Harrington. Even though you so badly wanted to believe otherwise, wanted to disregard the rumors and the reputation that came with him. But, he made it so goddamn hard. 

All he fucking did was tease you, complain. Order you around and act like you didn’t know how to do shit. And, you didn’t, but he was supposed to be your guidance, teach you. But all he did was grumble and give you that goddamned smirk. 

Yet, you couldn’t fully hate him, there was a side of him he rarely showed you, one that cared, one that offered you rides—it was more of a mumble each night but you accepted nonetheless, one that ended up at your side whenever an asswipe bothered you at the bar, one that offered you a hand on your back when you were crying, he didn’t ask what happened, didn’t speak, just stood there, letting you spill out your guts. The two of you never spoke about these incidents, ever, because he acted like they didn’t exist, like he couldn’t bear the thought of being nice to you. 

You were so fascinated by him, even though you’d never admit it out loud. He was charismatic, outright funny, and had a heart of gold that you only peered one layer of. 

And fuck it, he was fine, annoyingly good-looking that he was a distraction to be around when you were supposed to be working, him with those sturdy denim jeans that cupped his ass perfectly, wide-brimmed cowboy hat with a creased crown, put perfectly on his head. Even though you’d much rather see his pretty hair falling on his face, run your hands through his smooth layers.

Usually, when it got as hot as it did today, he’d even take off that stupid shirt, feast your eyes with his glimmering chest, all hairy and glistening with sweat, broad shoulders as he ordered everyone around made you gulp. Like he is doing with you, right fucking now. 

“Sunshine, get back to work.” Heat travels to your cheeks quickly, and that stupid nickname rolls off his lips so bitterly, the one he always called you just because you were all nice and smiley—even when he was being an asshole to you, something that grinded his gears, you guessed it was a foreign concept to him, being nice. 

You were quick to shake off the hold he had on you, getting back on your feet as you stood your ground. “I am working! Just needed a second to breathe!” The lies rolled off your lips so simply that you wondered if he caught you staring. When he turned around to leave, you guessed he hadn’t. 

“Asshole.” The insult leaves you before you can register how close Steve still was to you. 

Turning head-spinningly fast. “What did ya say?” He spits, making you gulp physically. 

He looks out of the world stunning when he’s mad, maybe it’s a toxic trait of yours but, fuck, the way his chocolate hues turn unrecognizable, that slight quirk of his brows, and the way his muscles flex in pure anger made you rub your thighs together. 

Jesus Christ. He is getting into your head, and you hate that you think of him this way when he is so mean. 

“Nothing! I’m just saying it’s really hot out today,” you hum, the sun rays hitting your face not making it easier on the heat that flame your cheeks. 

He gives you a snort, all mocking once he takes a step closer, making you feel hotter if that is possible. “Well that’s what happens in the summer, darlin’”

Hand on the wall he tilts his head slightly, all with sass that has you rolling your eyes. “Or did you expect the weather to give Miss Sunshine some sorta special treatment?”

You roll your eyes, an act you always did that makes Steve’s jaw clench. “Oh, come on Steve! It’s really, really, hot, and the sun is all on my face!”

“Boo-hoo, princess,” he mocks, tipping his hat, almost as if to tease you further.

You scoff, getting closer to him. “Easy for you to just stand around in that big hat!” With a narrowed gaze, you cross your arms against your chest, like a brat, another trait that annoyed Steve even further.

Then, you beam again, and Steve knows no matter how much you hate it, Sunshine is absolutely the nickname you deserve, eyes glistening with happiness that it annoyingly even brings a glint to his pretty amber hues. His gaze unintentionally droops down to tour lips, so plushy and soft looking when it curls into that pretty smile that Steve wants to kiss you all over. 

“Oh! Do you mind if I?” You ask all giggly, pointing toward his wide-brimmed hat, hand teasingly standing above his head. 

He scoffs as if you had just asked him the most insulting question ever. “Not a chance,” he spits, now he crosses his arms in front of his chest, eyeing you with a dark glint in his eyes, one you couldn’t decide was full of annoyance or just pure desire. 

“Mhmmm… okay,” you hum, feigning innocence for a second, before snatching it off his head with another hearty giggle.

Oh, what he would do to hear that on a loop, admire the way your lips stretched into the prettiest grin, brows quirked.

“Sunshine!” He chides, much rougher than he intends to, but you don’t pay attention to him when you place the hat carefully on your head, smoothing your hair.

You shrug, looking up at him with those doe eyes that have him melting, everytime, without fail. “Admit it, looks better on me.” You shrug, expecting him to agree.

Instead, he just offers you a deep sigh of breath, eyes almost widening when he realises what you just did. “Do you even—”

He huffs, hiding the obvious pink shade thats starting to color his cheeks, you really had no idea the hold you had on him, did you? “God, you city girls have no idea about anything, huh?”

Your brows furrow. “What?” 

“Cowboy hat rule?” He asks with a tilt of his head, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.

A teasing smile curves on your plushy lips as you push for more information. “What’s that?”

“Just give me the hat back,” he insists, attempting to mask the warmth that crept into his tone.

With a shake of your head, your defiance only grows, a glint of mischief dancing in your gaze. “Not until you tell me the rules.” 

“Sunshine,” he warns, voice so grumbly that heat travels all over your body quicker than the sun burning you. 

“Steve?” You hum with a flirty gaze, so teasing that Steve wants to fuck you right then and there, until he teaches you proper manners, until he shows you not to be a total fucking brat and not to roll your eyes at him, until he shows you that you’re his. 

But, of course, he settles on a low grumble of, “You’re annoying.”

“You used to be more creative with the insults, Harrington.” Another teasing remark, and Steve rolls his tongue inside of his mouth. 

With a smirk, he takes another step toward you, when your back hit the walls of the barn, only then you realise, he has you cornered. “You wanna know the cowboy hat rule, princess?” He asks all smugly.

Gaze meaner than he is, chest almost pressed against yours, voice so low that all you can do is slightly nod. 

Your breath gets hitched in your throat when his face is mere inches away from yours, hot breath fanning against your cheeks, skin heating on the impact, that brattiness you wear as a mask quick to slip off when he’s all demanding. “You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” His tone is almost a growl, pupils blown wide, making you gulp, physically.

“What?” You blink, unsure of what he’s actually asking. Excitement jumping around in your tummy. 

“You heard me. Wanna take me for a ride, Sunshine?” He is so goddamn close that you are sure he can hear the annoying tumble your heart does at the weight of what his words hold. 

It makes you pause, gaze sticking on his, sometimes slipping away to his soft lips, almost to signal him of something, but all you can do is try to hide the embarrassment that burns your cheeks. 

“Didn’t think so,” he scoffs, backing away just slightly. 

His cowboy hat is too big on your head, tipping low over your eyes, possibly hiding your nervousness as you mutter, “What if I do?”

With a smooth motion, he flips it off from your head, holding it with his palm, away from you. “Get back to work, Sunshine.”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I, those horses ain’t gonna straddle their strap themselves, off. to. work,” he hisses, turning to leave.

You huff, heat still burning off your cheeks, more embarrassed than annoyed, yet you still don’t have it in yourself to let it go, you can’t let him have this. Win this.

Quick to snatch the hat back, “So the hat rule is, wear the cowboy hat, ride the cowboy, huh?” You mumble behind him, your voice failing you, yet you appear to be giggly, and Steve heaves a deep sigh of breath, before fully turning to you.

He halts a bit when he sees you once again, in his hat, tipped low, that stupidly addicting smirk gracing your slightly-open lips, hand on your hips, and all he wants to do is fuck you till you lose that attitude of yours. 

“Stop,” he warns, taking a step closer to you but with a shake of your head you back away, and he sighs, loud and annoyed. 

“Gimme that, sunshine!”

“Nuh-uh.” All teasing and bratty, and grating on Steve’s last nerve. You know this, yet you wanna keep pushing him, further and further, until he snaps, until he can’t take it anymore. You have no reason to do this, you’re supposed to hate him, think of him as an annoying asshole.

But the two of you are finally tethering on that line, the line between purely teasing each other out of spite, to teasing each other out of flirting, you know that, and you don’t wanna take a step back. “Prove it.”

You are all up in his face, and all he can do his roll his eyes, cheeks beetle red, frustration worn on his face. “Knock it off.”

You tut gently, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Not until you—” Your words are interrupted quickly when he snatches up the hat from your head in annoyance, making you gasp when he discarded it easily.

“Get back to work!” His voice raises, and it makes you take a deep breath.

Shit, did you fuck this up?

“What?” You question, entire body feeling dizzy. He takes a step closer.

“You heard me.”

Another step closer, his breaths come out in short gasps, frustration taking over him. “Get back to fuckin’ work, before I can’t stop myself.”

He is close. Too fucking close, and you can’t help the way your gaze droops down to his soft lips, slightly parted open, downturned from frustration. God, you realize how hot he is when he is angry, once again. “F—from what?”

He hesitates, before licking his lips. This is it. He wants, no, he desperately needs you. Needs to put you to your place. Teach you what happens to bratty girls like you. Show you what exactly the stupid rule is. “From fucking you in this goddamn barn.”

You release the breath you’ve been holding back, feeling small, so small under his gaze. Mouth hanging open, and all you want is him to pin you against the wall, have you screaming out his name. “From making sure I show you how the goddamn cowboy hat rule works.”

Your back is plastered against the wall, his hands are by your side, you are caged beneath him, chest rising in anticipation. “Is that what you want, honey, think you can handle all of that?” He’s so smug, and you don’t know what overtakes you when he’s all in control like this, you wanna obey him, make him happy, proud, so you bite back on your insults.

His smirk is dangerously alluring, and you’re under his spell. 

“Please,” you beg, heat finds your cheeks again, you hate the hold he has on you.

He barks out a chuckle, so mean, yet as equally hot. “Please, what? Speak up,” he spits, rolling his tongue inside of the roof of his mouth, lips wearing a smirk.

“Ruin me,” your voice is small, meek, yet it makes him groan. 

You’re such a good girl for him, and he wants nothing more than to ruin you. Fully. Completely. Ruin you for every other man. 

His head ducks down to your neck, leaving a sloppy kiss before leaning into your ear, his breath hot on your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Goddamit darlin’, you gonna be the death of me, huh?”

You don’t—you can’t answer, you’re speechless, rubbing your thighs together desperately, seeking some friction, a touch, anything. 

He levels with you again, dangerous gaze on your lips, fingertips brushing against your cheeks teasingly “You know what I always wanted to do, sunshine?” He coarses lowly. 

“W—what?” You ask with a gulp, lips twitching with need. 

He gives you another grin, that asshole. The pad of his thumb slowly caressing your lips now, making you shiver with hunger. “Always wanted to put you to your place, you and that damn smart mouth, always runnin’ it for no good reason. I’d give you a good reason for those pretty lips, huh? Use it the way I wanna use it, fill it the way I wanna feel it,” he grunts like he said the most normal thing, yet you’re already squirming, wanting to open your lips, take his fingers in your mouth and suck on them, show him how much of a good girl you can be for him.

He has you on such a hold already, and you can’t complain. For someone who seemed to be annoyed—hell, even hated him a few minutes ago, you feel crazy, batshit insane, all you want is him.  

His fingertips play with your lips all teasingly, pupils blown wide, the other hand caresses your hair so possessively that you melt into his touch. “You gonna be good for me sweet thing?”

He doesn’t have to ask you twice. “Y—yes, sir.”

Sir. 

Godfuckingdammit. You don’t know the hold you have on him, do you?

He bites back on the moan that rumbles in his throat, instead settling on a, “Good girl.” Your puppy dog eyes glint at the praise, and he makes a mental note of it. . 

“Get on your knees f’me, darlin’,” he grumbles, and you’re quick to obey, not minding the uncomfortable feeling of the wooden floors scraping your knees, or the fact that anyone might’ve walked in, the door was locked, and there was probably no one around yet Mr. Harrington might’ve returned to the ranch at any moment. But he made you feel safe, somehow. 

You look up at him with those doe-eyes again, making him suck in a breath before he unbuttons his jeans and pushes them off his hips, boxers so tight around his hard cock that he grunts involuntarily.  

Your eyes go wide the second his erection springs free, almost hitting the tip of your nose, red, angry and leaking with pre-cum, he lets out a chuckle at your expression before grabbing the base of his cock. 

Same eyes, looking up at him all hungrily, Steve feels the way blood rushes quickly to his cock, making him harder if that's even possible, with a groan he runs the leaking tip across your lips. “Open up.”

Your hand replaces his quickly, and he runs his fingers through several strands of your hair, teaching you how exactly he wants you. 

You open your mouth wide, just like he likes it, tongue giving his slit kitten licks, moaning at the taste of his salty pre-cum, wrapping your plushy lips around his thick head, and sucking the life out of him, determined, and feigning innocence with the soft gaze you held. 

Head thrown back, heavy boots planted on the harsh ground, he lets out a low groan, stroking your hair all softly. “Look at you s’pretty like this for me.”

His hand wraps tighter around your hair, pushing you onto him, making sure you gag a little and that only spurs you on, making you whine around his cock, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Cat got your tongue, darlin’?” He chuckles all meanly. 

“God, do you have any idea how many times I wanted to shut up that bratty mouth like this?” He asks with grunts leaving his open mouth, hand working harshly around your head, mouth feeling like heaven the more you bob around his thick length, struggling to take all of him. 

“Those pretty lips are—mmpf, shit—better stuffed with my cock than being a spoiled lil’ city girl runnin’ her mouth, ain’t that right, baby?” You nod meekly, angelic eyes seeking for his validation before you flatten your tongue around the sensitive part of his tip, struggling to take all of him in your mouth. Earning guttural moans, eyes squeezed shut as he feels your soft lips wrapped around him again.

“Fuck, sweet thing.” You can feel his filthy grunts straight in your core, all low and lewd that you almost moan around him again, he puts one hand on the wall, helping himself to better move in and out of your throat. 

He knows if you keep this up, he’ll cum right and there, and fuck, he needs that. But he needs to be inside of you more. 

You keep up your stroking, now adjusting yourself properly to start licking and sucking on his balls. “Sunshine, you need to s—stop,” the words barely leave his lips, he so doesn’t want you to stop. But, he needs to cum inside of you. 

Yet, you don’t listen to him as your movement speeds up, determined to feel his load warming your throat, make him proud, and your mouth bobs harder around his length, making him growl at you harshly. “Sunshine,” he warns, pulling you by your hair. 

You’re quick to take a deep breath of air once he pulls you off, looking up at him with the perfect innocent eyes, your lips wearing the prettiest pout. “Was that not good for you, Stevie?” 

Stevie. That nickname makes his head spin faster, all he wants to do is fuck you against those stupid rustic walls, have you screaming out for him, the whole ranch filled with your filthy noises, no one was around anyway.

“You kiddin’, sweetheart?” He gives you a chuckle, wrapping his hands around your jaw, pulling you off the floor. 

“You were fuckin’ amazing,” he hums, leaning down to kiss you, tasing the salty semen on your tongue. 

His hands are quick to travel along to your waist, fingertips finding their way onto your panties rather quickly, earning a gasp out of you. “Need to be in here first, honey.”

You nod, so quickly that you can feel him grinning into the kiss, his hands are everywhere, yours are more or less the same, quick to get rid of his top, to feel his toned chest in your soft hands, your top is sprawled right next to his, revealing your pink and gold bra at him, breasts peeking out just enough to have him groan, big hands quick to get rid of them. 

He has you caged against the amber walls, back hitting the rough material, making you hiss. Your skin heats at the impact, it’s filthy, lewd, and so public, but none of you even care enough to break the kiss. He settles between your thighs, his pants drooped to his ankles, hands rubbing across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

The sight of you so easily submitting to him, makes his cock grow harder than he thought was possible, looking so ethereal that Steve forgets all about everything else. “Sunshine,” he breathes, hands fiddling with the hem of your panties. 

“Mhmm,” is all you can muster, legs slightly open for him, and he almost feels possessive over you, it’s entirely stupid, but he looks so fucking alluring with those dark chestnut eyes, layered hair a mess, and cock weeping entirely with the thought of you. 

His thumb runs over the seam of your pussy, just a glimpse of how his fingers are going to ruin you, and you pulse and clench against him already. Wet. Drenched. And all ready to take him. “You’re soaked,” he groans.

Leaning further into your ear, “is that all for me, honey?” he rasps, desperate, needing your confirmation. 

Heat grows in your cheeks faster than a scorching day in July, and he grins, again, all cocky and proud. “Yes,” you admit meekly, and Steve’s quick to kiss your worries away. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he growls, swirling your wetness up and around your slit, almost toying with you, having you desperately mewl for him. 

He can’t put his finger on it, what it is that draws him this much into you, but he’s hooked, so goddamn obsessed that he feels like an idiot, for being this much of an asshole, for acting like a grade school boy who’s pulling the pigtails of his crush. Like a stupid cliche. 

“Stevie.” That nickname, again. Godfuckingdammit, Steve thinks. You have him so wrapped around your finger, it’s like a prayer, and he’s sure you’re not aware of it. And it drives him even crazier. “Please.”

“Talk to me.” His voice is low, lips now nipping at your neck, suckling, giving you all the marks you need. 

“I need you,” you hum, eyes squeezed shut, desperate. His finger discard your panties and slide easily inside of you, your back is fully dipped into the well-worn walls with how good he feels, his thick fingers making their way in and out of your soppy cunt, whines leave your lips faster than you can comprehend. 

“Ruin me, Steve, fully, completely.” You don’t know how those words leave past your lush lips, but your thighs ache with need, cunt throbbing for him and him only. 

His eyes widen quickly, pure hunger quick to fill his veins, mouth hanging open, curses leaving his lips at how forward you are being. “Show me the cowboy hat rule, sir.” 

Steve all but groans, mouth harshly on yours again, chests pressed together and you can feel how hard he truly is, rock stiff, and aching to be inside of you. The sheer size of how he feels against your thighs almost makes your eyes bulge again. 

His fingers stop moving in and out of you, before you can whine, he spins you around so fast that you gasp loudly, hands immediately plastered on the wall, pleasure and excitement fills your tummy, but the fact that he’s seeing you all vulnerable like this is embarrassing enough that you try to close your legs. 

He’s quick to stop you with a grin, rough hands landing on the back of your thighs, spreading them open while tutting you. “Nuh-uh. Don’t get all shy now, princess. Spread them open f’me.” You spread them a little, cunt throbbing with how close his fingers are. 

He groans again once he fully gets a view of you like this, face down, ass up, your pussy slicked with your juices, at his mercy. “‘M gonna ruin you, honey, don’t you worry.” A dark chuckle barks out from his chest, sending chills down your spine, almost making you whine. 

Fuck. 

His hands are rough when he has you by your waist, bruising almost. Lining his cock in front of your slick core, he swipes the head of his reddened tip inside of you with one forceful thrust. Your plushy lips open slightly, stealing your breath away as you try to adjust to his size.

Shit, shit, shit, he feels even better than you fucking expected.

His cock splits you open, filling every goddamn inch of you. You don’t know how many times you thought this, but, shit, he’s as big as the gossip in this small town says he is. 

His thrusts are slow, grunts so loud and heavenly that it spurs you on more and more. His weight on you, the bruising hold. You feel him everywhere. On your back, hips, and fucking inside of you.

“F-fucking, fuck!” he growls, leaving nibbles all over your shoulder and back, even with the fact that this was Steve, and he was rough and filthy, it was wildly intimate, so wildly intimate that you could feel your heart pounding inside of your chest. 

“How are you this fuckin’ tight, s-sweetheart?” One of his hands travel up to your neck, roughly holding you down, hips slamming into you with such force that you cry out.

He watches the way his girthy cock disappears in and out of you, wetting himself with your juices, filling every inch of you. “Doin’ s’good for me, princess.” His praises are heavenly, making your chest swell with pride.

He moves inside of your soppy cunt with short thrusts. Completely bottomed out, thrusting against the same sensitive spot every time as his balls, heavy with cum grind against your clit, with each movement, making you cry out his name, babbles leaving your mouth. “Yeah, you like this don’t ya? Want me to ruin this slutty pussy, huh? Ruin it for every other men?”

You nod all dumbly, yet, it isn’t enough for him. He wants to hear you, have you scream it out. “Say it, sweet thing, fuckin’ say it,” he groans, coarse voice making tingles appear everywhere on your skin. 

“I-I love it, Stevie, want you to ruin me for everyone else, mmpf,” you moan all fucked out, eyes rolled all the way back to your head, hips desperately grinding against him for some more friction. 

He picks up his pace, fucking into you with reckless abandon.“F-fuck doll, won’t last if you keep runnin’ that dirty mouth.” 

But his words just encourage you to keep going, gasps coming out in short breaths as you manage to drive him crazier. “All yours, sir, all yours.” 

He grunts at that, one of his arms snaking around and under your hips to find a better angle, lifting you up so that he can fuck his cock deeper into you, make you feel how fucking big he really is. “That’s right, baby, it’s all fuckin’ mine.”

Hot tears spill down your cheeks, entire body burning with it. The slick sounds of his hips driving into you, your moans, his low groans are all that fill the room. So fucking filthy, and you can feel yourself clenching around him. 

It’s all too much; his hands everywhere, the lewd noises he makes, how deep his girthy cock is bottomed out inside of you, making you feel every ridge. It’s fucking perfect, and you desperately need to cum. 

And of fucking course, Steve can feel your pussy gripping him, so tight that he knows he’s gonna cum right after you do. “Gonna cum f’me, huh? Such a good girl,” he praises, again, knowing the effect it has on you and all you can do is gasp and weakly nod. 

One of his thumbs quickly finds your clit, making your pussy throb around him in pure ecstasy, all the overstimulation enough to have you crying like a bitch in heat. “Give it to me, angel,” he murmurs, pressing open-mouthed kisses everywhere on your skin.   

His movements pick up, padded thumb rubbing circles around your clit, the other hand landing on your nipples, twisting them while pumping into you, it’s all too much that it makes you sob and beg for him. 

“Cream my cock, let me ruin you completely, darlin’” It’s all the confirmation you need as your orgasm builds and washes through you, body exploding with pleasure, spreading through your skin as you scream out his name. 

Your pussy squeezes and pulses around his cock, and he fucking knows, he won’t last, not in the slightest. “S-shit, sweet thing, gonna make me cum with all those filthy noises.” 

“Want that, honey, hmm? Wanna be filled with my cum? Show everybody in this town who owns ya? Owns this tight lil’ cunt?” He feels it, that pure hunger for you over taking him, coarse voice, dark eyes, like a man possessed. His fingers dig further into your skin as he desperately chases his orgasm, enjoying the sloppy sounds your pussy makes as he drives into you.

“P-please, Stevie, n-need your cum,” you weakly hum. And it fucking breaks him. Hips losing all rhythm when he spills his warm load into you, twitching inside of you once he pumps you full of his cum. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Sunshine,” he breathes, collapsing on your back, both of you trying to come down from the high. He slips free of you slowly, his cum dripping down your thighs, making him grin proudly. 

“S-steve,” you weakly murmur, collapsing in his arms. He holds you down, slight kisses left on your back, delicate in a way you have never seen him before. Yet, the two of you don’t mention it, “let me take you home,” he mutters, a gentle hold on you that makes you feel warm.

“N-no.”

“No?” Intrigued, his breath gets caught in his throat, the look you give him is so sultry that the blood rushes to his cock in an instant again. Fucking fuck, what have you done to him.

“We still haven’t followed the rules,” you purr sweetly, causing him to raise his brows in excitement, tempting him further and further. 

“The rule was wear the hat, ride the cowboy, wasn’t it?” You question with a slight grin, eyes lulled, still fucked out. 

Your fingertips gently grazed against his chest, hairy and slicked with sweat, his sudden dominance fading when you were so quick to switch from begging to cum underneath him to gaining that flirty, giddy personality again. Already leaving him a mess. “Y-yeah,” he murmured, watching you hungrily, his cock already weeping again. 

“Then, sit down and lemme take care of you, cowboy,” you ordered again, shuddering breaths leaving him in an instant.   

Now you were going to ruin him.

Fully.

Completely.

And Steve couldn’t be more infatuated. You were truly his demise.   

[tealvenetianmask]

Does Blitz blame himself for Cash's abuse?

Stick with me, and I'm truly sorry.

All of the people except Cash featured in the memories Rolando shows Blitz are people who Blitz has cared deeply for and felt like he hurt, failed to get close to, or let down.

Let's look at them (again, yes)

Tilla

Fizz

Verosika

Loona

M&M

Barbie

A whole lot of Stolas

So. What. The. Actual. Fuck. Is Cash Fucking Buckzo. Doing in this line-up?

Well. Hurting Blitz, horribly. My first meta on this scene didn't really capture this, but as many have pointed out, this is Cash grabbing Blitz's freshly burned wrist after the fire and smacking the ever living shit out the burned side of his face. Presumably blaming him for the fire and everything (and everyone) lost from it. And then Cash telling Blitz in the hospital that Fizz doesn't want to see him.

It's emphasized too. Right after we see the memory of Cash hitting Blitz, we see Blitz physically flinch while watching it.

So if this is just a compilation of horrible memories, maybe that's all there is to it.

But if it's a grouping of the people Blitz cares for, well . . . it makes sense for it to be that, doesn't it? Blitz has a lot of love in him, and yet he's scared of intimacy. His trauma is ABOUT hurting people, losing people, driving people away, craving closeness that he can't have . . .

Being an abuse victim is complicated. Being a family scapegoat is complicated too. A lot of abusers try to make the victim think that they're ACTUALLY the cause of their pain and everyone else's, and we already know that Cash did this to Blitz (literally in this same set of memories in the hospital).

But we also saw it in The Circus when Blitz was much younger, and saw how much this tactic got to Blitz.

Cash guilts his son into going into a dangerous situation for him. If Blitz doesn't do this, their lack of resources, the possible suffering of his parents . . . it will all be Blitz's fault.

And Blitz cares deeply (he always has!), so he does it.

Now one might argue that Blitz says "of course I want to help Mama" here and leaves Cash out of his reply, so he doesn't love his father. But reality is often more complicated than that. He's upset here that Cash is forcing this on him. Cash hurts him. His mother (seemingly) offers much more love. That doesn't mean that Blitz doesn't ALSO feel some care and responsibility for his father's wellbeing.

I think that Blitz believes (or at least a significant part of him believes) that he destroyed Cash's life too with the fire, and that he deserved that beating and being turned away from the hospital and possibly many of the beatings and beratings that Cash delivered in the past. I think that in the moment when Cash grabbed him, he felt that he fully deserved the agony he felt when Cash held his wrist.

I think a part of him loved his father growing up and still loves him-- that there were moments between the incidents of cruelty where they had fun together as a family, and where looked up to his dad and wanted desperately to win his approval.

I think that Blitz has a lot of anger toward Cash too, and that a part of him always knew that Cash was wrong to hurt him. He had a whole lot of resilience and defiance in him even as a young kid.

I think that he felt guilty for all of the times he felt angry at his father. I think he might still.

I'm off to cry and then grab my pitchfork and storm wherever Cash is living nowadays. Who's with me?

[gay-dorito-dust]

Imagine Bill/Stanford x a clumsy reader who is constantly getting injured or stumbling and bumping into something.

Going on a long hike? Reader falls and busts their fuckin knee. Walking by the fridge after grabbing a snack? Slips over a puddle of water and breaks their wrist.

I'm genuinely curious as to how they would respond separately, constantly having to deal with reader's shit.

Love your content, by the way. Keep up the good work! :D 💗

Bill cipher

Finds it funny, after all pain is hilarious to him but it’s made even more funnier if someone else is doing it to themselves.

Don’t expect him to help you in any way shape or form, he’s like one of those friends who’ll laugh as you fall down the stairs before ever thinking of helping you back up.

But in this instance he just leaves you in pain and gets all bothered when you’re all healed up again, claiming that you’re not as fun as you are when you’re injured. So I’d watch your step for the next couple of days for banana peels or anything that could cause you physical harm.

You’re his very own version of you’ve been framed with how often you managed to end up hurting yourself over near enough everything, so much so that he just develops a sixth sense when you’re about to hurt yourself and appears just in time to whiteness it with some deer teeth.

Needless to say Bill will find your sprained ankles, busted kneecaps and broken arms hilarious and might even record his favourite ones to look back on when he’s bored to reminisce over the good times. (I don’t know what else you expect of me for him. It’s bill cipher, he’s the least helpful dude in existence)

Stanford Pines

Poor guy had gotten more and more grey hairs because of how accident prone you are. He would like you very much in one piece thank you very much.

Also he’s got good reflexes for a man of his age and would most likely be able to catch you by the arm or the waist before you even fall or trip while asking if you were okay with the most concerned look upon his face.

He’ll gladly let you use him as crutch when you’ve tripped and busted your knee or sprained your ankle, anything that he could do to make sure that you were in less pain then you already were, Ford will do it in a heartbeat in hopes that he’d never have to do this again. Only to later come to terms that he was with the most clumsiest person in all of Gravity Falls, and that he would be used as your personal crutch constantly.

After a couple more accidents and Ford is already carrying a makeshift first aid kit and had done intensive research on all he needed to deal with things like bruises, cuts and sprains just for you. However he’ll always try to move you away from any and all potential hazards, only for him to look back at you to see that you’ve somehow managed to trip on thin air and bruise your chin.

You’re lucky this man loves you dearly because you had proven yourself to be a handful at some cases, but Ford knew it wasn’t your fault and would never make it out to be your fault in the slightest. And yet the temptation to baby proof everything -especially the lab- was strong within him, but would rather keep an eye on you himself to make sure you somehow didn’t hurt yourself on the corner of a table or counter.

He only knew you would because you did bump into the corner of a table once and tried to hide it from him, but he knew you better then most and immediately gets an ice pack for your bruise. At this point you being accident prone was about as normal as waking up to being covered in Mabel’s stickers or almost tripping over Waddles because he was sleeping nearby.

Yes you once tripped over waddles because he was sleeping near your bed once, did you hurt yourself? Obviously. Did Ford have to take care of you? Of course he did but he didn’t mind taking care of you now and then as you did the exact same whenever he got himself hurt. You weren’t aloud in certain places without Ford because there was too much where you could hurt yourself on, that and Ford didn’t feel like having a heart attack every five seconds you came even remotely close to injuring yourself. Again.

He kisses your bruises and cuts. Fight me I’m in a soft mood.

[deluluonmyback]

impulsivity in bpd can be cutting and dyeing your hair, but it’s also frying and destroying your hair to a point where it’s completely ruined and you’re self conscious of it everyday.

impulsivity in bpd can be having an attitude and saying some petty things to people, but it’s also ruining every good friendship and relationship you’ve ever had and you can’t stop yourself from sabotaging everything, so you end up alone in a deep pit.

impulsivity in bpd can be having some drinks, doing dr*gs, or having a lot of meaningless sex. but it’s also relying on drinking and dr*gs so much that you’re completely off your face all time and it ruins your image and every aspect of your life. and it’s also no one wanting a relationship with you because you “sleep around” or “probably have an std”.

impulsivity in bpd can be browsing an fps facebook. but it’s also stalking their every move online and their every step in the real world constantly because you need them so bad. you can’t live without knowing if they’re okay, knowing what they’re doing, knowing if they’re leaving you for someone else, etc.

the list goes on. us borderlines post a lot of shit about bpd, and in my personal case, laughing it off and sharing it to others makes me feel a bit better and i know that it makes others feel less alone knowing that other people are doing the same horrendous shit. but stop romanticising being obsessive, quirky, impulsive, and having an attitude. it’s fucking painful. the emotional aspect is PHYSICALLY painful. watching the world crumble around us because most of us can’t fucking stop ourselves is painful. the withdrawals from substances, s/h, etc because we are so prone to addiction is PAINFUL. i’m all for supporting our fellow borderlines and cluster b peoples, but STOP self diagnosing to be “trendy”. i’m not on about self diagnosing, etc if you’re certain and it means you’re getting the support that you absolutely need. everyone is deserving of help, whether healthcare wants to agree or not, EVERYONE deserves the help they need. but stop trying to make bpd sound fun. being euphoric is fun, the rest of it IS NOT. ITS FUCKING PAINFUL. thank u bye 💕

(ps. i hate making rant posts about this, but seeing people act like bpd is a “fun choice” in life pisses me the fuck off, every day is just pure fucking suffering. the people romanticising and hyping this shit up are the same people who will talk shit about any cluster b who is showing symptoms or having one hell of an episode. but this NEEDS to be out there x)

(edit: the amount of support i’ve had on this is unreal 😭❤️ i tried to word this the best i can but when i have a lot to say it often comes out making no fucking sense at all or something comes off the wrong way. i saw someone reply about the yanderes shit. I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN. i don’t know why the fuck people fetishise it, it makes me feel disgusting to have an fp even if i’m keeping as far away from them as possible. and also the “euphoric is fun”, i still do a lot of embarrassing and over the top shit when i’m euphoric that i regret. but in the moment, the happiness i feel i just embrace now because it’s not been often that i ever get to feel like that. thank you so much for the likes and reblogs, i really hope this post has helped y’all. I LOVE YOU ALL ❤️)

[miley1442111]

a great start- a.hotchner

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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: how aaron and you end up together after going undercover

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: general cm topics, fluff, crying, reader gets shot, hostage situation, suggestive themes, reader is forced to strip, comfort, hurt.

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

You sat at the end of the sofa, Aaron’s arm around you as you felt the painful reminder of the psychopath watching you two from the other side of the many cameras around the house. 

“How’re you holding up?” He murmured into your ear, definitely too quiet for the camera to pick it up.

“Alright,” you whispered back, then giggled softly, as if it was a joke between the two of you. He smiled, his same adoring, beautiful, and infrequent smile and pressed a kiss to your cheek. You both knew what you were getting into when you started this, pretending to be a couple so the rest of the team can catch the unsub, he’d be so busy watching the two of you ‘newly-weds’ and get sloppy with something. 8 days in and nothing had changed. You knew he was part of the construction team of the house, that’s how the cameras were put in, but you didn’t know who he was at all, since the construction company wiped their records. “You?”

“Alright,” he smiled, though his eyes said otherwise. They looked elsewhere before you could study the emotions in him, redirecting to the tv in front of you two. You leaned closer to his exposed neck and kissed it softly. The last six victims, all couples, had been killed during acts of physical/ sexual nature. You’d profiled that this meant he was unable to perform and most likely impatient due to his clear overkill and general killing style. Your lips trailed up his neck as he tensed beside you. It had been 8 days, you assumed that newly-weds would be jumping each other’s bones at every chance they got, yet the unsub hadn’t seen you two so much as make out. You felt Aaron gulp. 

Your lips met his just like they had in all the previous days, though this one was heavier, more passionate, more meaningful. 

You were going to have to fuck Aaron Hotchnmer. You were going to have to fuck your really hot boss. 

Oops. 

You pulled yourself onto his lap, kissing him deeper as his hands rested cautiously on your waist. He kissed back with just as much passion as you were, maybe even more. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your lips. You pulled away softly, grinning at him. “So beautiful.”

Your heart swelled. “You’re so handsome,” you smiled and he chuckled. 

“What is this, the 1800s?” He joked and you giggled into his neck. 

This all felt too real, too normal. The way he kissed you before you both went off to ‘work’ (aka him working at a fake law firm and you fake teaching at a college nearby), the way his hands were always on your body, the way he held you when he slept, the soft whispers when he asked you if things were alright, the way he said ‘I love you’ everyday and made you actually believe it for a few seconds, and the gorgeous smile on his face every morning when you woke up.

It was maddening. 

“I don’t know, you should probably be the one to tell me,” you mused. Yes, there was a significant age gap that you continuously made fun of, but Aaron did too, so it should’ve been ok. Aaron laughed but there was a knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” you smiled and got off his lap, pretending you didn’t see or feel his hard-on. You went over to the door and looked in the peep-hole, only to be met with a middle-aged white male who looked very angry. Yeah, that was your unsub. “Honey, maybe you should call Spencer and invite him over for dinner this week?” You mentioned,  using the code you two had made up for getting help when needed. Spencer meant a SWAT team and the team, Derek meant local police and the team, Emily meant just the team, Jj meant you needed the fucking cavalry, and Penelope meant something was seriously wrong. 

“Good idea,” he said, grabbing his phone. What a way to crush a libido, right?

You inched open the door and he pushed past, trying to get inside. He succeeded, throwing you into a wall. 

“You two haven’t had sex!” The unsub shouted. “It’s been 8 days. You two got married three months ago and you just bought this house. Why don’t you two have sex?” He demanded, running a hand through his greasy hair as he paced the room, stress and anxiety practically oozing from every pore. Aaron finished his call and stood in front of you, shielding you from harm like a husband would. He noticed the gun in the unsub’s waistband, he saw the devolving nature of his stress, and he wanted you safe. 

He was in love with you, and you clearly refused to see it. The small things he did at work, like the way you two always shared hotel rooms, even when it wasn’t necessary because he knows you hate sleeping on your own in a new place but especially in hotels, since you were attacked in one on a case a few years ago. He noticed the small things about you, like when you changed your nails, they were usually colourful and long, but not too long that you couldn’t type. He saw when you changed your lipgloss, you’d gone through 9 different colours in your 4 years at the BAU, light pink, dark red, purply-red, a nude pink, burgundy, an orangey-red, a pinky-red, a glittery clear one, and right now- a red lip tint that he’d grown to love, even when it landed on his lips. He’d observed when you changed your perfume, he’d noticed how you smelt everyday, since you’d always say ‘good morning’ every morning at the BAU and your perfume would be the freshest then. You had three signature scents, a rich vanilla, a citrus and flowers, and a peach one that you wore on special occasions, like the ‘dates’ you two went on, or when you went out with friends.  

He loved you, plain and simply. 

“We’re not very sexual people,” you lied, trying to sell the fear you were feeling. That was a huge lie because every day you’d wanted to jump his bones, just like he’d wanted to jump yours. 

“How can you ‘not be a sexual person’ when a woman as beautiful as that is in front of you?!” He shouted and you flinched. How long  until the team and SWAT team would get here? “Come here,” he demanded, looking at you and pulling the gun out of his pocket. You didn’t move, only holding Aaron closer. “I said come here!” He shouted and you were forced into action. Aaron grabbed your hand, stopping you from going any further, but you shook him off, desperate to get whatever this was over-with. “Take off your clothes.”

Fuck off, is what you would’ve said but he was holding a gun. 

So you pulled your t-shirt over your head as Aaron kept trained on the unsub’s face. Next to go was your bottoms, so you were left in your bra and underwear. 

“Look at her,” he demanded Aaron do. “She’s beautiful.”

Aaron looked and he agreed, he  thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world, your witty humour, intelligent mind, carefree nature, kind aura, he loved all of it. He loved your body too, but you weren’t just your body, and he wasn’t going to take advantage of you in a hostage situation, or the situation you two had been in for the last 8 days. It wouldn’t be fair, he was your superior. 

But god you were gorgeous. His eyes skimmed up your body and he felt his blood rush and he felt 15 again. 

“She is,” he agreed. 

“And you don’t fuck her?” 

“I don’t fuck her,” Aaron agreed. “She’s my wife, I love her, it’s making love.”

The unsub rolled his eyes, waving the gun around as you tensed. “Making love then,” he scoffed. “What did you major in, fucking romantic poetry from the 19th centary?” 

You almost laughed, remembering how you and Aaron had joked during the week about his tendencies to over-complicate his words. You didn’t mind, you loved it to be honest. 

“He majored in law,” you said, acting scared.

The unsub turned his attention and gun on you. “What did you say?

“H-he majored in law.” 

A gunshot. A gunshot to the shoulder (thank god for his awful aim) and a scream of pain meant the SWAT team ran inside. Aaron ran to you, not looking back at the unsub as he scooped you up in his arms and brought you outside.

“Medic!” He shouted and the ambulance beside the squad cars was already prepared for an injury. He put you down on the gurney as you shifted in pain, and he wanted to take it all away. He wanted to be shot, not you. He wanted to be hurt, not you. 

“Shit this is bad,” one of the paramedics said a little too loudly and Aaron saw you tense. He shot the paramedic a disapproving look and he sent back an apologetic smile.

You took his hand in yours, a pleading look in your teary eyes. “It wasn’t pretend for me,” you admitted. “I love you. I have for ages.” 

Aaron’s heart stopped for a second. His dreams were coming true and dying at the same time. You, you were his dream. 

And you were hurt. 

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He paced the hospital waiting room, every muscle in his body tensed as he waited on news of you.

“Mr. Hotchner?” One of the nurses called. “It’s only family right now-”

“I’m her boyfriend, all of her family lives out of state,” he semi-lied. He wanted to be your boyfriend. You’d told him you loved him. He just put two and two together. 

“Alright then,” he smiled, leading him into your room. There you were in the bed, still as pretty as ever, doped out of your mind on painkillers. “I’ll give you two some space.”

Aaron sat beside you as your heavy eyelids opened and closed in an attempt to stay awake, he smiled.

“Sleep, we’ll talk when you wake up,” he smiled. 

“Promise me you’ll be here when I wake up,” you whispered, grabbing his hand. 

“I’ll be here,” he promised. 

And he would. He’d stay in that hospital with you until you were discharged, then he’d take care of you at his home, then he’d ask to be your boyfriend. 

A pretty great start to a love story if you ask me. 

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

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[zyhkoo]

☆ till the light leaves my eyes

angst to fluff (?) gn! reader

Jason realized that he can’t let you go. part 1

a/n: heres part two!

Lately, Jason had found himself grappling with a host of unsettling thoughts. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if he returned your affections, if he could feel the same way about you that you felt about him.

He knew that you brought joy and light into his life, and he couldn’t understand why he was unable to offer you the same. The question of why he couldn’t simply reciprocate your feelings weighed heavily on his mind.

The two of you were currently sitting in a cozy burger shop, surrounded by the warmth and commotion of a Saturday night. The aroma of sizzling burgers and crispy fries filled the air, a familiar and comforting scent. The clinking of silverware against plates and the buzz of chatter from other patrons filled the background, creating a soothing white noise.

You were intently focused on your phone, your expression a mixture of concentration and frustration. Your eyebrow was furrowed, and you were biting your lower lip as you navigated whatever was on the screen.

Jason casually glanced over at you, his eyes tracing your every move. He noticed the frustrated expression on your face and your furrowed brows. “Everythin’ okay over there?” he asked.

You briefly looked up from the screen, giving him a small smile. “Yeah, just frustrated,” you replied, putting your phone down on the table. “My friends are trying to set me up.”

Jason's heart sank a little as he heard your words, but he quickly masked the pain. "Oh, really?" he said, trying to keep his voice casual. "Who's the lucky guy?"

He could see the flush in your face as you scoffed, “Not you too..” you groaned, darting your eyes.

Jason raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing at the edges of his lips. "What? Can't I be curious?” he teased. “Is it someone I know?” You rolled your eyes, a small grin on your face. “You're just as bad as my friends,” you replied, shaking your head. “It's no one you know, trust me.”

He didn't want you to know how much the idea of you dating someone else bothered him, but he knew that he couldn't stand in your way. “You should go for it,” he said, forcing a smile. “You never know unless you try, right?”

Your eyes widened in surprise, could he let go so easily? “You think so?” you blinked.

“Yeah, why not? It could be fun y’know.” He tried to sound encouraging, but the words felt like sandpaper on his tongue. Your eyes dart to your best friend then to your phone. Then you sighed, picking up your phone again “I’ll do it.”

Jason swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched you text back your friends. The idea of you going on a date with someone else made him feel nauseous.

Jason couldn't understand why the prospect of you dating someone else was bothering him so much. He shouldn't be concerned - it was your life, after all. So why did it feel like someone was physically squeezing his heart?

When you started dating someone else, Jason felt an aching emptiness within his heart. Despite the fact that the two of you continued to spend time together, he couldn't shake the pain and heartache of knowing that you now belonged to someone else.

He longed for the days when it was just the two of you, when the bond between you was uncomplicated and unbroken. It was as if a piece of him had been torn away, leaving a gaping hole that he struggled to fill.

As time went on, Jason noticed a gradual drifting apart between the two of you. Maybe it was because he had allowed you to spend more time with someone else, he thought.

He couldn't help but wonder if his inability to fully be with you, to reciprocate your feelings, had led to this gradual separation. The realization filled him with a sense of regret and melancholy, and he found himself grappling with the loss of the closeness once shared.

Jason couldn't help but feel that he had brought this upon himself. He believed that you deserved happiness and love, and he knew that he was unable to give you that. This realization only deepened his sense of guilt and self-blame, as he thought that he had driven you into the arms of another with his emotional unavailability.

The only moments you and Jason spent together now were during your joint patrol duties. The once frequent hangouts and relaxed times spent together had been replaced by moments of necessity and obligation.

Jason noticed that there was something different about your behavior during your patrol one evening. Once the patrol was finished, he decided to head over to your house, his concern growing with each step he took. He cautiously approached your window, giving it a gentle knock, hoping to catch your attention.

When you pulled back the curtains and saw Jason standing there in his full vigilante garb, your eyes widened in surprise. It wasn’t every day that he paid you a visit in this fashion, and the sight was unexpected, to say the least.

You immediately slide open the window “Hi, is there anything you need?”

Jason stood there awkwardly for a moment before clearing his throat “Can I come in?” he asked.

You nodded and stepped aside to allow him to climb through the window and into your room. He looked around, taking in your surroundings before focusing his attention back on you.

You sheepishly smiled “It’s a bit of a mess, I’m sorry.” you scratched your head. Jason's gaze roamed over the room, taking in the mess and disarray. He shrugged, "It's fine," he reassured you. "I've seen worse."

You couldn't help but notice that Jason hadn't addressed you by his usual nickname. It struck you as odd and out of character for him. You fidgeted nervously, your fingers tracing random patterns on the surface of your bed.

He wasn't particularly skilled with words, and he struggled to find the right thing to say. Jason asked, "Are you okay?"

You swallowed hard, your throat feeling tight and constricted. Words failed you for a moment before you managed to force out a response. "I'm..." you trailed off, your voice caught in the emotions you were trying to suppress.

Jason could see the turmoil in your eyes, picking up on the subtle signs of distress. He took a step closer, his expression one of deep concern. "You don't have to hide anything from me," he said gently.

You swallowed again, trying to push down the tightness in your throat. "It's just...been a tough few weeks," you finally managed to get out. “We broke up.”

Jason's expression shifted to one of shock as you revealed that you had just gone through a breakup. His eyes widened, and a mix of surprise and confusion registered on his face. He hadn't been expecting this revelation, and it seemed to hit him unexpectedly.

You had been dealing with the aftermath of a difficult breakup, and seeing Jason again after everything that had happened between you only added to the turmoil inside you. You were grateful for his presence, but the pain and confusion lingered, creating a tangled web of emotions.

Amidst the pain and heartache, there was one singular thought that echoed in your mind — the realization that the person you truly wanted was standing before you. All you longed for was Jason.

Your knuckles turned white as you clenched your fist tightly, the pain and frustration of the breakup. Your gaze flickered downward, finding it hard to meet Jason's gaze. "We just...couldn't make it work," you whispered, your voice shaky.

He hated seeing you like this, suffering and clearly hurting from the aftermath of a failed relationship. The urge to reach out and take away your pain was strong, but he knew he couldn't simply fix it with a few words or a simple gesture.

Instead, he took your clenched hand in his, gently prying your fingers open and intertwining them with his own. "I'm here for you," he said quietly, his voice steady and sincere. "You don't have to go through this alone."

Your eyes stung with tears as you pulled him into a tight embrace. The floodgates opened, and your emotions poured out in that single, desperate gesture. Jason's arms instinctively wrapped around you, holding you close, holding you together.

“I missed you.” your confession was soft, a mere whisper against his chest, but it echoed loudly in his ears. Jason's heart squeezed, a mix of emotions flooding his mind at your words. He pulled you closer, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

"Missed you too, doll." he replied, his voice thick with an unspoken weight. "So much."

“Days without you was so agonizing.” you whispered. He ran his hand gently over your back, a comforting gesture meant to soothe your heart. "I'm here now," he whispered, his voice gentle and firm. "I'm right here… and I'm not going anywhere."

“I can’t love anyone else Jason. I only love you.” Your grip on him tightened, your voice shaking as you confessed your enduring love for him. Jason's heart ached at the pain and vulnerability in your words, and his own grip on you involuntarily tightened as well.

He was tired of resisting his feelings, of denying the truth that he had been fighting against for so long. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you again, of watching you slip through his fingers once more.

Jason's heart ached as he finally let go of his stubborn resistance, acknowledging the love he had for you that he had been trying to ignore. With a surge of determination, he cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to look up at him. He needed you to understand the sincerity of his words.

"Doll," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of tenderness and urgency, "it's always been you. Ever since the beginning, it's only been you."

He pulled you closer, his eyes searching your face as if looking for confirmation that you were hearing the weight of his words.

"Please, believe me," he murmured, his voice ragged with emotion. "I'm done pretending. I can't keep denying what I feel for you." Your breath hitched, you gazed at his eyes. You were absolutely stunned, you had no idea what to say. “What.. what you feel?”

"What I feel for you," he repeated, his tone gentle but firm. "I..." he paused, the words catching in his throat for a moment. "I love you, doll."

Jason’s thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. "I realized it too late, but I can't deny it anymore. I love you. I always have. I always will."

“Jason..” your voice trembles in a small whisper. He leaned in, meeting your lips in a kiss. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you closer to him as he melted in the taste and feel of you.

Your hands clenched the fabric of his jacket, a silent plea for him to stay close, to never let go.

He broke the kiss, his breathing wqs ragged. He rested his forehead against yours, his gaze still filled with intensity. "I know I've been an idiot," he murmured, his voice rough. "But I want to make it right. I want to be with you, doll. If you'll let me."

“I’ll love you till the day that I die.” you responded.

[pia-nor481]

Daniel Ricciardo NSFW alphabet

A-Aftercare (what they're like after sex?)

He very much likes looking after her, so imagine long showers/ baths. He is certified skincareologist-he has watched her do the routines so many times that he's a professional now. Plus he loves to rub moisturisers all over her body. He loves physical contact so don't expect to be left alone.

B-Body part (what is their favourite part of theirs and their partner?)

I think he really likes his abs, it's just nice to look at. (The fact he doesn't like his side profile is criminal)

He LOVES his partners hips, perfect to grab. I believe he likes to hold her hips when dancing, or railing her.

C-Cum (anything to do with cum)

I don't think he Cums a lot, volume wise. But he just loves to cum. I believe he has a preference of cumming inside, however he's happy with where ever she wants it.

D-Dirty secret (just a dirty secret of theirs)

I think he’d really want to fuck in slightly public places, a pool is the best example. Just something about it is so appealing.

E- Experience (how experienced are they)

VERY. He's obviously very attractive and so has had many girls. He's learned all of the possible techniques and doesn't need guidance. He loves to try our new methods and can read her like a book.

F- Favourite position

Cowgirl- I don't know what you expected from me. He loves any position where she's riding him. Or maybe where she's up against a wall. He also definitely likes car sex (have you seen the interview?)

G- Goofy (how serious are they in the moment)

75% serious. He likes to really focus on the sex but other times he just can't help but he his funny self.

H- Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes)

The hair is exactly the same. I will say though he strikes me as someone who's completely clean shaven, but waits quite a while to shave again. It's not a matter of forgetting or laziness, but actually convince. He doesn't have to trim it as often this way. He does have a tummy trail which I think is cute- even though no one asked.

I- Intimacy (how are they during the moment? Romantic? Pleasure driven?)

Very romantic, he likes to be sweet and loving. Daniel definitely likes to hold hands. But I can also see him just repeating "fuck" as he's pounding her when she's pushed up against some wall, and he's just so desperate for pleasure that's all he can think about.

J- Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Self care king. He actually really likes to masturbate, whether that he by himself or with her watching. He does really enjoy his hand.

K- Kinks (one or more of their kinks)

BDSM- not in a super SM way. He likes restraints and blindfolds, but not necessarily pain. A little is fun, just enough that it doesn’t cause an issue for the following day

Wax- he likes to drip hot wax down her body during the off season. This definitely started with one of those lotion candles and then with some other low temperature melting candles.

Edging- Daniel loves hearing her beg to cum, bucking her hips towards him just for that release. But he doesn’t like to give it to her straight away.

L- Location (their favourite place)

Anywhere in the house-the kitchen is great for bending her over, or eating her out while she's sat on the counter. The living room is perfect for soft/cuddley sofa sex, or when she wants to ride him, but he must have his hands on her.

The car- anytime Daniel gets a new car he makes a point of driving her somewhere, whether it's just the longest route possible or to go to a secluded location. He likes the option of her riding him in the front, or fucking her in the back. Also, road head!!

M- Motivation (what gets them going?)

He loves a sexy phone call, or a really long voice note of her pleasuring herself. He's not fond of sexting but, phone sex is one of his favourites. So just hearing her saying things like "I'm so wet just thinking about what you're going to do to me tomorrow." He just can't resist.

The dancing has made a come back, even if it's very innocent, he'll find a way.

He's a man and so will like visual things, so anytime you're showing him an outfit, or he sees lingerie.

N- No (what turns them off)

Anything typically considered "gross" like piss and such. This might just be me protecting my hate, you do you though.

I also don't think he wasn't to be a cuck. Or a bottom tbh

O- Oral (preference on giving or receiving. Skill)

This man loves blow jobs so much it's unreal. I could spend hours talking about this. He enjoys most techniques, when his tip is up against the roof of her mouth, or pushing against her cheek, or when is dick is down her throat. He loves it all!!! He does also really love giving, I think this is something he's grown more into liking. He might need a little convincing for her to ride his face but once he starts he doesn't want to stop. Pussy DRUNK.

P- Pace (Are they fast or slow? Rough or sensual?)

He loves to be sensual, his love language is physical touch so you should know he's taking his time to really feel absolutely everything. That doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy hardcore. He likes rough and hard, he likes to be fast, when he wants to prove a point ;)

Q- Quickie (their opinions on them? How often?)

He is very neutral. It happens every now and then, he does enjoy them, but would definitely prefer lots of foreplay and teasing, no matter how much he likes to cum.

R- Risk (will they experiment? Do they take risks?)

I don't know if this is an Australian thing, but these lot seem to be up for pretty much everything. So I think he's more than happy to try anything that isn't a hard no. So he definitely takes risks.

S- Stamina (how many rounds do they go for?)

I don't think that many rounds (as much as I love him, he is 34) but that doesn't stop him. Probably 2/3

T-Toys (do they own any? Do they use them? On a partner or themself?)

I think there is one of every kind. But only one toy gets used at a time. You can have cuffs or a vibrator, not both. He doesn't really use them on himself, unless he's

U-Unfair (how much do they tease?)

He absolutely loves it. He’ll be torturing her clit for ages, then just pull away to kiss around her cunt, or onto her thighs. In my mind he always runs his hands over her body in a featherlight teasing manner.

V-Volume (how loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

He groans very loud, and it’s always super throaty. I think he gets out of breath very quickly where he really likes to talk through out. It’s another way of his teasing.

W-Wild card (a random headcanon)

I think he actually quite liked period sex. Idk why, not to bring up the Australian thing again, but I genuinely believe he’d really like it. Just the intimacy and providing relief ig.

X-X-ray (how big are they?)

Definitely quite long, but not that thick. I think either bends very lightly left, or up.

Y- Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

Not that high, however if she wanted to fuck, he’s never going to say no. I think now that he’s doing a lot more, he’s a lot busier :(

Z-Zzz (how quick do they fall asleep afterwards?)

I like to think that he stays up quite late. Daniel likes to fall asleep to noise (cannon) so he’d like conversations or just generally listening to her talk. Or maybe he’d put some soft music on.

Pinterest wasn’t giving what I needed today. I was looking for such a specific image but it wasn’t providing.

[stargirllanaa]

Dark!rafe beats you for cursing out his friends (as you rightfully should!) for making lewd comments about you and rafe does nothing about it, then forces you to apologize to them forcibly holding your face in place to look at them with a bruised face as you tearfully apologize to them. (Sorry if this is too dark but please I’ve been thinking about this for weeks😫🧎🏾‍♀️)

Apologize.

Warnings: Dark!Rafe, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, domestic violence, manipulation, chocking, misogyny, topper is a weirdo,

Summary: Standing up for yourself isn’t always the best idea.

A/n: Omg my first request!! This was so fun to write and it’s never to dark love!! Hope you enjoy! Also please send more 🙏🏾

Wc: 1.1k

18+ MINORS DNI, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

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Rafe had his friends over again, and if you were being honest, you really didn't like them; they supported his coke addiction, they encouraged his drunken fights, and, worst of all, they didn't have respect for you in the slightest.

Topper was the worst; he always made weird comments, borderline creepy.

This time in particular, you were already having a bad day; you had unexpectedly started your period earlier and bled through your favorite pajamas, and you had just dropped your phone, cracking it slightly.

You tuned out most of Rafe and his friend's conversation focused on the music in your left airpod, and scrolled through Instagram.

All you heard was,

“Y/n’s shorts are way too short; I can see her whole ass.” your boyfriend's friend Topper commented, followed by a laugh, causing Kelce to laugh as well.

When you turned to your boyfriend, you hoped he would defend you or at least acknowledge that his friend's comment made you uncomfortable and maybe address it. Still, instead, he didn't say anything.

On a typical day when you weren't already angry, you wouldn't have said anything or ignored him like you always do, but today wasn't a typical day.

“Shut the fuck up, Topper.” You sighed under your breath, causing everyone to stare at you.

“maybe you wouldn't be looking at my ass if you could actually get some.” you finished.

Topper awkwardly laughed in response to your very true statement.

“Someone’s on her period,” Kelce said in a sarcastic tone that irritated you even more than his comment.

You got up from the couch and stormed upstairs; you fucking hated Rafe's friends, you hated that he made you guys all hang out, and what you hated the most was that Rafe never stood up for you.

You went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you; you didn't notice how much this situation upset you until you looked in the mirror. Tears of anger were threatening to spill as you went to grab a tissue to wipe your tears; the bathroom door flew open.

“What are you slamming doors for?” Rafe questioned you, closing the door behind himself and trapping you both in.

“Did you not hear what Topper said to me?” you asked in a shaky tone, still angry about it. “Why do you let him talk to me like that?” you continued.

Rafe nodded in response to your words; it was hard to ignore the evident smirk on his face.

Did he think this was funny?

The blonde took slow steps towards you.

“Well, he was right..”

You couldn't believe your ears, but at the same time, you could; sometimes, it seemed like Rafe intentionally hurt you, and sometimes it seemed like he was a bully rather than your boyfriend.

“When you clearly dress like a slut, someone is gonna mention it…” he trailed off.

You were so shocked and furious at his words that you didn't realize how close he was to you until he roughly grabbed your chin and tilted your head to look him directly into his eyes.

“Now, you're going to go back downstairs..” the blonde continued.

You shook your head no in response, pulling your face out of his harsh grip.

He immediately reached back; this time, his grip was rougher and harsher, leaving you with more than just physical discomfort. You were in pain.

“Listen to me, y/n!” his tone was just as harsh as his grip, showing his anger. “You're going downstairs and apologizing to Topper for your disrespect and language.” he finished, looking directly into your tearful eyes, waiting for a response.

“I'm not apologizing; he's been disrespectful to me ever since we started dating.” you tearfully defended yourself.

“My girlfriend is out here telling my friends to ‘Shut the fuck up.’” Rafe said in disbelief; his grip was getting tighter the more he spoke.

“How does that make me look? Huh?!” he shouted, removing his grip from your chin to push you roughly against the bathroom wall, causing your back to slam against it.

“Like I can't control my fucking girlfriend?”

His hands made their way to your neck, wrapping around it like you meant nothing to him; his eyes weren't their everyday shade of blue; they were dark, and his face was entirely even as he stared into your bloodshot eyes.

Your hands immediately found his, trying your best to pry his hands off of your throat, but his grip was tight; you couldn't breathe, you could barely think, and all you could do was look back into his eyes and regret ever biting back at topper.

Rafe held you there, staring intensely into your eyes while choking you for about 45 seconds in complete silence; he wanted you to think; he wanted you to regret this; he wanted you to learn your lesson.

When he eventually let go, you fell to the floor and gasped for air.

Your boyfriend bent down to your level and roughly grabbed your chin again, desperate for eye contact.

“I don't like you hurt you, y/n..” he expressed as if he deserved a reward.

“But you make me.” the tall blonde stated before letting go of your chin and standing up straight.

“Get up,” he said in a calm tone, way too quiet for this situation, and when you didn't listen, he roughly grabbed your arm, pulling you to your feet.

“Now…You're going downstairs and apologizing to Topper for your disrespect and language.” the blonde said slowly, explaining the steps as if you were stupid.

Your pride told you not to, but you knew Rafe wouldn't let this go, so you tearfully nodded, accepting defeat.

As you walked downstairs side to side with Rafe, you knew they probably heard all the banging and muffled yelling; you were embarrassed, not only by the fact you had to apologize but by the fact these people knew you were staying with a man who treated you like shit.

“I-im sorry, Topper…” you said, looking down at your feet; you couldn't bring yourself to look at him in this state; you looked a mess from all the tears and trauma.

Rafe clearly didn't like this; he gripped your chin again, this time not as roughly, forcing you to make eye contact with Topper.

“For what?” Rafe whispers into your ear. His voice was quiet, but his tone was sharp.

“I'm sorry for being disrespectful and my language.” you couldn't stop the tears from continuing to fall; you felt humiliated, but undoubtedly, that was the point.

“Dude…. What on her neck? Topper questioned, looking at Rafe and then back at you; he didn't acknowledge your apologies; instead, he squinted, trying to make out the marks around your neck.

“She fell,” Rafe stated before letting go of you and returning to his friends on the couch.

He wasn't wrong; you did fall, you fell into his trap.

[alexthebordercollie]

Ford's autism

K so I don't think I need to defend the interpretation Ford is on the spectrum. People make jokes about him being autistic all the time. We all see it. What I want to do here is sort of connect together some character details and examine them through the lense of my own autistic experiences.

I wanna start with his hands. It's an observation I've seen from multiple people that Ford is insecure about his hands and often hides them behind his back or in his pockets. And yeah, he is obviously insecure about them. He even mentions his six fingers at times when they aren't really relevant to anything. It just showcases the space this physical deviation of his takes up in his mind. And yes, it makes sense that he's insecure about them because he was bullied for them growing up. I want to add to this observation.

Ford would have been bullied regardless.

The problem was never really his hands. When you're on the spectrum people around you can tell that you're weird. Uncanny. Something is different and feels wrong about you to NT people, especially kids. They will pick any shallow superficial thing they can find as an excuse to bully you and justify the sense of revulsion they feel around you but can't articulate. If Ford had been born with normal hands they just would have made fun of him for something else, it would have been his glasses, or the movies he liked, or hell maybe some good old-fashioned antisemitism. Literally, any excuse they could find.

I know growing up I tried for years to change the things about me that I was made fun of for and it never made things any better. The bullying never stopped. "Fixing" things about myself didn't work because the thing that was actually "broken" was something fundamental to who I am. That realization as a kid was soul-crushing. That there was nothing I could do that would ever make me "normal", that would ever make people like me. I felt like an alien born on the wrong planet.

Ford continues to latch onto his hands as a sore spot because they're something simple and obvious he can point to as an excuse for why he's so outcast. He probably knows by this point that the hands aren't actually the problem. I'd argue this journal entry and his comment about "another failed social interaction" shows that he's aware his hands aren't actually the problem. But, it is a lot easier to fixate on those than to dwell directly on that sinking feeling that at the core of you're being you are fundamentally weird, wrong, unlovable. Ford's a genius. If his polydactyly bothered him that much he could have removed the extra digits. The hands aren't the problem, they're a symbol of a more fundamental kind of pain.

Looking at it through this context also makes the gloves Fiddleford gives him an extra sweet gift given what they represent. A kind of wholehearted acceptance of who Ford is and even a willingness to adapt to his unique needs just to show him love and affection. I think something that hurts me so much about their relationship is that Ford had someone who very clearly loved him as is and would have never wanted him to be someone or something else, and Ford was too stubborn to fully appreciate that.

The same is true of Stanely by the by. He never had a problem with his brother being weird. Another relationship with someone who loved Ford as is but who Ford took for granted. He needs these kinds of relationships in his life. People who embrace and accept him for the weirdo he is. He needs them desperately, which gets me to my next point.

Ford's ego. So it's also a common observation that Ford has a massive ego. He's kind of an ass, to put it mildly. But I have had someone in conversation frame it like the pressure to prove themselves was just on Stanley and Ford just spent his whole life being hyped up and told he was hot shit. This isn't true, or at least it's a flattening of his experiences.

Ford was praised for his genius. This is true. But his own father only gave a shit when said genius showed signs of netting material gains for the family. It only mattered cause Ford could be useful. Furthermore, this genius never netted him social acceptance from his peers growing up. He was still a bullied, weirdo, loser most of his childhood. Add that seeing Stanley kicked out would have drilled into Ford's head that if he couldn't make something out of himself his family wouldn't want him either. Stan was an unspoken threat of what this family does to failures.

Gonna bring up my own personal experiences again. Having set the stage for how it feels growing up on the spectrum. That feeling of alienness that you can't really explain. I loved to write and draw from a very young age. Moreover, as I got older I realized that when I drew, people were nice to me. The only time I got social acceptance was when people were admiring or praising me for my art. So I did it more and more, I devoted myself feverishly to my art. I loved it anyway and would have hyper-fixated on it regardless but the positive reinforcement turned art from something I loved to a need. I NEEDED to be an artist. I needed to be the best at my school. I needed all eyes on my work because it was the only way I could make friends. The only way I could prove that I had value. That I deserved a place in society.

I see that in Ford. I see his ego not as shallow narcissism but as an overwhelming need to prove his value as a person. To be loved and accepted and believing that no one will want him if he isn't brilliant. If he doesn't change the world. If he isn't useful. This is also why he couldn't bring himself to destroy his research even knowing it was the safest and most responsible option. Burning down everything he worked for would mean finally giving up on the fantasy of ever being accepted or valuable.

The sad thing is he's so single-mindedly fixated on this personal goal of proving his worth to the world that when people do come along that love him unconditionally he takes them for granted. These people are statistical anomalies in his life. Nice to have around, but not enough to fix the bigger problem. They aren't reflective of society at large. They aren't enough to prove that he, personally, is loveable. Just that on occasion he meets another weirdo. For a while it's nice. Like a campfire in a barren tundra. But he has to keep moving, he can't stay. Warmer lands are ahead if he can just get to them. If he can just keep moving.

This also is why Ford was so susceptible to Bill. Bill told Ford what he wanted to hear. That he was destined for greatness. That, the fundamental wrongness he felt all his life was something incredible other people just couldn't see. Bill promised Ford exactly what he wanted, but not what he actually needed. Ford never needed the world at large to accept him. He just needed a few good people.

I also think his chemistry with Bill was connected to his autistic experiences as well. Bill is literally an alien. There's no pressure to mask around him. To try and "act normal". Ford can just be himself with Bill and not have to think about it. And sure, he could be himself around Fiddleford, but Fidds is still human. The anxieties of human social expectations are still present. Like when Fidds get him a gift for the holidays and Ford feels a bit guilty that it didn't even occur to him to do the same. He doesn't have to think about these social nuances with Bill.

That said I'm sure Bill isn't what his world would have considered neurotypical anyway. Not that Ford would know that. But Bill was also a strange freak in his own society. Just as outcast, possibly more so. I think Bill sees a bit of his own experiences reflected in Ford. I think he relates to him on a level. Not that he would ever admit it outright due to his own ego. I think Bill's fixation on him after the breakup also stems from Ford rejecting the path that Bill chose for himself. Bill still lives with some sort of deeply repressed guilt for what he did. Imagine how validating it would have been to see someone else like him burn their own world to the ground for the same reasons Bill did. But no, Ford's a better man than him, and Bill can't stand it.

Ok, I don't know how to end this long-ass monologue so I'm gonna call it here I guess. I just wanted to spill some thoughts of mine about Ford as a character. If anyone else wants to add to this with other examinations of Ford's character through this lense go right ahead. I'm just saying as an autistic person myself I understand every choice Ford made. I could relate to why he did the things he did even if I know those were mistakes and even acknowledging that he's kind of an asshole. Ford is a strange man who makes an eerie amount of sense to me.

[destielembarker]

SFW & NSFFW ABC’s: LOGAN HOWLETT x Fem!READER EDITION

tags: FLUFFY, THEN EQUAL AMOUNTS NOT, cuddling, crying reader, fighting, blood, angry logan, pain kink, biting, hair pulling (m! receiving), no use of “y/n”, reader has a pus$y, cheating (mentioned), dirty talk, x-men characters, wade wilson, 18+ (let me know what else i need to add)

notes: i have severe adhd so be prepared for these not to be answered in the way they were intended but the appreciation is there all the same. also shitty grammar bc i decided to be a STEM major. please comment if you enjoyed!! love hearing your opinions.

SFW alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

This mfer does NOT do pda but that doesn’t mean he isn’t affectionate. You’ve grown to be okay with it. When it’s just you two in yalls bedroom in the mansion, he will never take his hands off you. Always following you to each room like a lost puppy. You’ve had to kick him out the bathroom a few times bc he says he doesn’t care but come on! He tries so hard to use his words too but it never comes out quite right so he sticks to physical touch.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

His hard ass dismissive attitude makes it hard to be friends with him and he knows that. ‘Push everyone away so you never get hurt’ kinda situation. But you bond in making fun of people. you both giggle when Scott trips over a chair and hell, if you’re gonna be mean, might as well do it together. The moment that solidified it between you two is when you had been in the mansion for about a week but never seen Logan before. You walk into Xavier’s office where he was chatting with Jean and you immediately blurt out “Nice hairdo dickhead!” and he, without missing a beat, responds, “Nice forehead fuckass!” and he mocks your fake gasp.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

This man doesn’t cuddle, he cages you in, in literal adamantium bars. He wraps his entire body around you and holds on tight like it’s his last time. You’re also smaller than him so his stomach is curled around your back and once he’s asleep, there’s no fucking way you’re moving his arms bc they are so heavy. His legs also braid between yours so you’re immobilized. You’ve had to explain a few times that he gets hot at night and breathing is a necessary function but he doesn’t change.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Bachelor of what, 200 years now? (he’s got some bad habits) He’s very weary when it comes to settling but mentioning a nice place in the woods peaks his interest. It takes a lot for him to admit that’s what he wants but when he does, you know instantly he isn’t just the type to settle with anyone and you’re special. He’s dated yes, but he usually plays the typical male card on some house work tho. He handles a majority of the outside work while inside he doesn’t care for much. Which is ok bc he allows you to be a stay at home wife bc of the nature of his work and he wants you to be as safe as possible.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It ain’t logan if it doesn’t go down in flames. and shit it would. He would definitely hit you where it hurts saying things like “I never loved you, you were simply accessible and easy!” and “Why do you care so much about me when I care so little about you?” and shit. it causes so much pain and resentment you’ve rather him cheat on you at this point.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Oh this a long long long wait but you two ain’t rushing to get hitched. He must first feel you’re worthy to keep around first because he ain’t just giving his heart away willy nilly, he’s been hurt multiple times and so have you. But after you almost died on a mission trying to save him he knew you were the one. And hell you’re already doing what married couples do now just without the kids, ceremony, and rings. He knows you’re his and you know he’s yours. You suggested the idea of rings but he claimed he would lose it so don’t waste your money on it. but you two mark each other up in other ways to set your claim so…

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s like a big dog that forgets he isn’t a lap dog. You’ve had to remind him he’s bigger and stronger so his seemingly small nudges from him feel like big pushes. He learns quickly and is soft and gentle and considerate too! Kinda same situation for emotionally, he’s a man out of his time so men didn’t really show emotions back then but he knows to keep you around, you gotta hear some type of verbal conformation of his love. He starts slowly with “You look nice today.” then slowly evolves into “I’d rather die than not spend another day with you in my life.” and that’s about as gentle as it gets.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Aside from running hugs (check my last post) he is such a good hugger. Remember what I said about PDA? hugs don’t count. He will wrap is arms around your neck and just stay there while he has conversations with the team. Seeing each other after two weeks? He will pick you up and swing you around after he gets back. He loves to pick you up to hug your middle to hear your heart beat while you hug his head. but sometimes he squeezes too much making you without oxygen.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

This comes after a year of yall being together when you had a massive argument about his relationship with Jean. He is always flirty with her and it makes you kinda jealous, so you confront him about it. He gets defensive and finally blurts out. “I DONT LOVE HER. I LOVE YOU.” and the room goes silent. You both stare at each other for a minute then you just smile and walk out. Not a ‘i love you’ back or anything because he was being a dick. But, eventually it comes later that night in bed. He gets so happy he cuts off your air supply from the kisses and hugs.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

If there’s one major thing that makes him different than the other guys you’ve been with, it’s his possessive jealousy. If another guy does so much as come within 3 feet of you he puts himself between you and him. At the grocery store checking out, and its male cashier? He will do all the talking and paying. And don’t get me started on Scott teasing him about taking you away from him. The claws come out and you have to grab him before he launches himself in Scott’s direction.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

This man and his kisses. I don’t think there’s a place on your body he hasn’t kissed. All over you from the very top of your head to the bottom of your feet he loves it all. And don’t get be started on the ‘racing home from a mission to meet you in your shared bedroom’ kiss. It’s more of a long drawn out sloppy make out session. Half the time you meet him at the door to your shared room and he can’t even say hello before you’re all over him. Where specifically does he like to be kissed you ask? This is the sfw section so use your imagination on that one.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Strangely enough this gruff exterior man loves kids. He prefers if they can walk and talk unless they’re y’all’s. He is such so interactive too. With his increased stamina he loves to tire them out by asking “do you wanna race?” and thus he runs those suckers out so they sleep and you two can do adult things.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He’s very quiet and grumpy. It starts with him rolling over towards your side of the bed. whether you’re awake or not he kisses your forehead or lips. If he has any extra time he will wrap his body around you and grumbles, “Good morning beautiful” and just hums when you stir awake. He isn’t much of a talker in the morning so you both just place soft kisses on each other until you meet each other in the bathroom for your morning shower together.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Similar situation as morning, depending on what the occasion is. If you’re hanging around the kitchen having a drink with Jean, Scott, and Ororo; he loves to talk and wind down with them then eventually both of you stumble to bed. A lot of kisses and cuddles. Some nights are shared with the both of you watching a movie, cuddled on the couch making occasional comments. He does turn into a grumpy old man when he gets tired so usually you turn to physical affection instead of verbal to keep him happy.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Oh this man has lived and loved. He has double the life time of memories that are fuzzy sometimes so something might remind him of something and tell you about it. I don’t think there is enough time in your life to hear everything there is to know about this man. Your relationship didn’t start on a long emotional outdraw, but, a hot heated physical relationship, then-turned-soft situation. Having to pry into his head about how he feels about certain things usually is how you learned what you do know about him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Anger isn’t the right word when you piss him off. Annoyed is more like it, at least that’s what you think of it like. You know he isn’t really angry because if he was those claws would come out more often. But from an outside perspective he’s saying things like “Shut the fuck up.” and “Stop speaking for 5 goddamn seconds.” and you know he doesn’t really intend harshness, just annoyance. It depends on the situation if he is patient tho. If it’s a serious situation, he will snap at you. If it’s a lovers quarrel he will sit you down and talk about it (with his dick in your mouth)

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Logan doesn’t forget any of the smallest details about you. One time you off handily mentioned that you don’t like tomatoes, so when he makes you and sandwich, he remembers no tomatoes for you. It was a tiny gesture but it was so sweet. He knows you like it quiet in the morning and loud music at night. He knows everything, even your favorite brand of tampons.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The month you first met was probably his favorite because all you two were doing was bickering. He would always say he was teasing you but you genuinely were spitting harsh remarks which he laughed off and dismissed. You knew he was attractive from the moment you two locked eyes but the constant arguments lead to a unusual rage that lied somewhere between frustration and hunger. Eventually, one night, it built so much in your body you started drunkly yelling at him, and he started laughed which pissed you off even more. So you marched across the room to smacked that smirk right off his face, that’s when he grabbed your wrist before it collided with his face and shoved you against the wall and started aggressively kissing you quiet. You were so angry trying to push him off but your body got the best of you and your fingers traveled to his hair to pull him closer to deepen the kiss. One thing lead to another and you woke up the next morning in his bed with nothing on.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Go back to J for reference. but he is aggressively protective of you. Claws out anytime he senses something might take you away from him. You attempt the same for him but you both know with his advanced healing and his aggressive behavior, nothing can get to him. And hell, you tried to protect him one time and you almost died, so he usually takes control of physical threats. Verbal threats? He loves to watch you argue with other people about how “taken” he really is, and he stands back with his arms crossed and smirks.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

God forbid you lift a finger on everyday tasks, he always growls and pushes you out of the way. dishes? laundry? cooking? He doesn’t say anything but comes over and takes whatever you’re doing and motions you to sit down. There’s only so much “I got this!” or “Let me do it!” you can say before he stops responding and keeps rinsing the plates in the sink. Where you differ is dates and anniversaries. You love all the “lovey dovey shit”. You never took much interest in any of the romance before but seeing him surrounded in rose petals and candle glow creates such a perfect contradiction you have to keep doing it. You can’t decide if he really likes it or not but he always grumbles and smiles everytime you do something romantic so you keep doing it.

You both really don’t do big gifts but sometimes you find something like a leaf shaped as a heart or a zippo with your initial and a heart around it in a gas station and gift it to him. He does similar things for you just to let each of you know you were thinking of one another when you’re away from each other. The only big gift he does unprovoked is get you a beautiful engagement ring.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Beard trimmings in the sink. Use his claws for unnecessary things which leaves scratch marks on things (there’s only so much you can touch up the paint on the wall before you give up.) Smoking in the house. Leaves the toilet seat up. Works too much. Tracks mud in the house with his work boots. He makes growly noises at night which sometimes stirs you awake. HE SNORES. (not a bad habit but it happens)

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He doesn’t try to but he’s just naturally beautiful. the hair the beard he tries to keep trimmed but he doesn’t really care because you tell him everyday that he is the most physically attractive man that has ever crossed your path.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Definitely. The yearning in his body that he feels when you’re apart for an hour, let alone weeks while on missions is enough to kill him. You know he can’t call you because of spotty service on missions but you still like to send him selfies and he’ll respond when he can with hearts. He isn’t really technologically advanced so that’s what you get but, you know he is smiling on the other end.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

You have a small cat, that he found, that absolutely LOVES him. He acts like he hates her but she always screams and runs towards him when he gets home. She will climb up his back and sit on his shoulders and rubs her head all over his ears, back of head, and face. You get mad at him everytime he swats her off so he just allows it now. Everytime he sits down she is right on his lap. You knew she loved you when he first brought her home after he found her on the side of the road but she loves him even more. Slowly you find him baby talking to her while he makes dinner and eventually he starts referring to her as yalls baby. He knows you would do anything for him, but you do EVERYTHING for this cat so mutual respect is formed.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He hates pop music. Hates high pitched noises. Hates strong smells. Hates getting rained on & having wet clothes. Hates when you do poppy clicky noises with your mouth. hates people who chew with their mouth open. Hates annoying people in general. But everything about you that previous partners have been annoyed about, he loves. (having to unlearn not to keep parts of yourself from him takes a long time.)

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

For the first couple of months he told you that you shouldn’t sleep with him because of his nightmares can get so bad that he can accidentally stab you. Well that that ain’t got shit on your insomnia so youre always half awake enough to get out of the way if he does start thrashing. Plus your king size bed is big enough to roll out of the way and not hit the floor.

After a while his restlessness slowly evaporates because he feels so safe around you that the nightmares begin to fade. You both learn that you both get a restful night if you’re cuddled in his arms. No half touches, full on koala on your back. he is big and heavy and it does get hot at night but he doesn’t care, he just pushes the covers off (it helps both of you don’t sleep with much clothes on anyway) and curls around you tighter. It took a while to get use to, but now you cannot sleep without it. His two week long mission returns are met with your dark circles under your eyes. You told him multiple times it’s okay because he is saving people but he can’t help but to feel bad.

  ❈

  

NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Jesus christ if you can get a chance for him to stop fucking you for 10 minutes he might partake in aftercare. His stamina is INSANE, he might get a little winded after 3 rounds and give you a break. but after he cums the first time, he is rock hard 5 minutes later. but afterwards you’re too tired to even care what happens but it’s usually met with lots of kisses, check in questions, and obviously cuddles. he is so physical touch driven so if he doesn’t say it, he’ll definitely show it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his hair so he keeps it a little longer so you can grip onto it while he eats you out or aggressively making out with you. and he has said multiple times in the beginning that you’re not pulling hard enough so you YANK on his hair which invokes a loud growl from him and starts driving his tongue deeper inside your cunt. that’s when you learn that soft touch’s aren’t doing it for him anymore.

His favorite part on you is your torso. whenever he can he will wrap his hands around your middle and pull you closer to him. your torso can be grabbed anytime he wants to move you or throw you around so his hands will always trace your sides with his fingers and hold you down.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Pls refer to my older nsfw post about this man but to recap this man is absolutely different in terms of his semen than any other man. the fluid production in one ejaculation is probably twice the amount of a normal person. AND it’s thick and potent. the amount of sperm cells are also doubled than a normal person. it’s more of the consistency of liquid glue but without the sticky factor. it sits heavy inside you after one round and you know he isn’t finished.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has a AGGRESSIVE breeding kink. he loves to fill your cunt filled to brim with his cum, he presses on your slightly bulged lower tummy to watch the cum drool from your cunt. you both know that IUD isn’t going to hold up much longer so he keeps mentioning things like, “i hope our baby gets your eyes.” and “Do you think we would put them in soccer or baseball?” and you always laugh it off but you’re at the point in your relationship with him that whatever happens, happens.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Bitch, “is he experienced?” is an insult even to think about. Logan Howlett is two hundred fucking years old. and he is a WHORE. you have enough self respect that you don’t even ask what his body count is because you know it’ll be in the high double digits if not triple digits. he knows every person is different but he knows exactly when he hits the spot on his partner and runs with it. you’re no exception. usually your younger partners in the past had to be taught how to please you. he doesn’t, he watches you closely and hit all your buttons plus more the first time you slept together and continues to do it each time.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Oh he loves to watch you ride him. not because he gets the most sexual pleasure from it but because he loves to sit back and smoke his cigar and watch you struggle to keep moving. his cock is so big it pokes out your stomach below your belly button and he loves to rub his hand over it while thumbing your clit. also gravity moves your cervix lower inside you so his tip is nailing it everytime you take him completely. it hurts and he has bruised you a few times but it hurts so good and he loves to watch your thighs shake and hear your whimpers of “Lo please help.” “i can’t do it by myself!” and he just chuckles and deeply growls, “You got this baby girl, keep using me to please yourself.”

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

This man doesn’t fuck around (hehe get it.) no but seriously, he only gets humor from watching you grow more and more desperate for him. he will tease you for a while but once he is fully inside you something takes over him and he begins to get more feral. he bites, he growls, he scratches, and he sucks on your neck claiming you as his. No time for jokes.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is fuzzy like a kitten and it doesn’t stop on top of his head. his chest, arms, thighs are all covered in black/brown hair. like his face, he keeps his pubic hair trimmed but not too tight. you have to watch when you give him kisses all over his body because you end up sputtering hair out. of course he likes to watch you struggle and pull spit covered hair out of your mouth after you suck him off.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

You both lost the niceties very quickly into your relationship. it’s immediate pouncing onto one another the moment you two are alone. he pulls your hair back from your aggressive make out session causing you to whimper stating, “You want daddy to fuck you now?” he says looking into your eyes. “p-please!” you cry back and immediately he starts ripping off your clothes.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

His sex drive is so fucking high it’s insane. when he is on missions night one he’s already got his cock in his hands thinking about you. if you’re in the same time zone he will send you pictures with the caption “Thinking about you ❤️”

Any other person would disgust you but he has you so whipped that your mouth waters everytime you get a new dick pic from him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Blood play, do you know how giddy this man gets when you’re on your period and he can eat you out. you found it extremely weird at first but seeing the tip of his nose, beard, lips and chin covered in blood when he pulls back to get some air and has that feral terrifying look in his eyes it sparks something inside you. he also likes to mark you with claws. you both know how sharp they are and your lack of healing factor can be fatal but that’s what makes it all the more fun. he is currently sketching his name into your thigh one slash at a time. waiting for that to heal and scar over till he moves on to the next letter. right now your thigh looks like:

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He will take you whenever and wherever he finds fit. you have told him numerous of times that if charles finds yall he’s kicking you both out but that doesn’t stop him. wherever anyone is out of eyesight he will pull you aside and beg for it. empty classroom? laundry room? theater room? he doesn’t care.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

The sight of any outfit on you that exposes more skin than usual. little mini skirts and crop tops are his weakness. when you bounce down the stairs into the kitchen for breakfast wearing a old band shirt you cut into crop top and some black denim shorts he almost drops the hot pan he’s holding. which scotty laughs at and he quickly whips his head to him saying, “shut it.” while slowly turning back to you gawking at your exposed tummy.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn’t share. Wade will definitely have asked one night but that resulted in having to buy a new rug for the living room because of the amount of blood wade’s wounds dripped everywhere. he spent at least 10 minutes stabbing him everywhere before Wade said “OKAY, i tap out. i get it. she’s yours.” while you giggled on the couch nursing your third cosmo that wades heavy hand poured.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Logan’s favorite quote when you first got together was “I don’t eat your pussy for your pleasure, I do it for mine.” and shit does he live up to that. he’s so good at it and his tongue gets so deep inside you. his entire mouth latches onto your clit and sucks. you joke he goes blind when he eats you out because he absolutely makes out with your sopping pussy saying, “wrong lips asshole!” which results in him reaching over your torso and wrapping his hand around your throat and pinning you onto the bed while he continues to lick your entire pussy with a flat tongue. he uses both hands to thumb your folds wider so he can get deeper inside you while maintaining eye contact. he loves to kneel on the floor beside your bed and prop you up on pillows beforehand because your elbows usually give out. he loves to watch your face twist and scrunch and listen to your needy whimpers. he keeps conversation to a minimum but occasionally he will pull away with a spit string still attaching his bottom lip to your clit saying, “MY pussy always tastes so good for me. you’re MINE.” and goes right back to what he is doing making your head throw back in pleasure. he abruptly pulls back and smacks your ass, “Fucking watch me.” he says harshly. you snap your head up looking at him with wide eyes and he gently blows onto your swollen clit making a tear drip from your face in full pleasure alone.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I don’t think this man believes in the term “slow” anymore. whatever he does in life he has to do it quickly. Sex is no exception unless he is purposely teasing you. After a particularly bad night where you two were non stop arguing you decided the only way to resolve it was some good old fashioned hatefucking. this lead to a trip to the OBGYN the next day because of the severe bruising on your cervix (i told you he was big.)

It started with some mild discomfort during sex then felt like something heavy landed on your stomach. you immediately yelped in pain which he surprisingly reacted quickly and concerned. “N-no more. Hurts.” you said through tears and sniffles. he immediately pulled out and started asking a bunch of questions and apologizing while wrapping his body around you hugging you tightly. he grabbed your shirt and your panties and helped you get dressed. he put on his gray sweatpants and crawled into bed beside you. you were curled up on your side facing away from him.

“Hey honey, talk to me. what’s going on?” he muttered softly into your ear, curling around your back. “I don’t know Logie, h-hurts.” he took a deep breath and shivered on the exhale. the thought of actually hurting you, hurt him. you knew that.

you rolled over, wincing in pain, to look him in the eyes. “I love you.” you mumble while making eye contact with his fearful eyes. he smiled and brought you into a big hug. “I-I love you so much baby. I don’t remember why we were fighting-g but i don’t care anymore. I wanna make sure you’re o-okay.” he sounded like he was going to cry.

“I’m ok baby! We’ll get it checked out tomorrow. I don’t remember why we were fighting either. I love you that’s all that matters.” you say against his bare chest.

he lets out a shaky sigh and chuckles a little before kissing the top of your head and relaxes his body off to sleep with you still wrapped tightly around him.

that’s when you both learned to take it easier.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You hate quickies but most of the time it’s easiest way to calm this horn-dog down. sometimes in boring meetings he will come up behind you, wrap his arms around your middle and slowly rub his hard-on against your ass. that’s when you turn around and look over your shoulder and give him a look of “really?” and he looks down at you with a very serious look on his face and nods slowly. that’s when you both have to excuse yourself from the meeting in Xavier’s office to a nearby empty classroom.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

You think it’s a risk everytime he opens his mouth. straight dick-to-mouth thinking. he says the nastiest things that he doesn’t recall afterwards.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can cum 3 times without feeling tired. you’re suprised more often than not about how much cum his balls can actually hold. it feels like a huge load inside you each time and you joke it’ll start leaking from your nose if he’s not careful.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Oh no he doesn’t allow you to use toys. you’re a strong independent individual but this is his one rule. nothing else should give you as much pleasure as he does. you suggested a bullet vibrator clit one time but both of you agreed it isn’t as good as his thumb rubbing circles on your clit so he threw it out. he allows you to finger yourself when he is gone to take the edge off but your fingers are too small and doesn’t reach where you like it so it enviably leaves you more frustrated than before.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If you could change one thing about Logan it would be his ability to tease you for so long. he brings you right on the brink of giving up and calling quits out of pure frustration alone before he slams his entire length into you. he knows how bad it pisses you off but he brings it out on occasions. he makes you cry most times about how bad you want him inside you and he loves to watch your makeup run down your face.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

If you were an outsider who didn’t know what was happening and started listening inside yalls bedroom you would think he was pretending to be a rabid bear. he growls, groans, huffs and moans when he is inside you inbetween his breathy voice asking “Does my baby girl love her cunt filled with daddy’s cock?” “you’re so fucking tight, shittt.” and “stop fucking squirming and take me.” he doesn’t try to be quiet either. like i said, when Logan fucks he turns into an animal. he only cares about you two.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Logan Howlett likes to be choked. you already think he loses brain function when he fucks well this makes it ten times worse. he stops talking and turns to soft grunts and his hips snap harder than before. it’s sometimes a trick you use when he is being too vocal and want him to just fuck you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He loves his tight black boxer briefs with some name brand across the top waist band. but if not, he’s commando, some days which you told him is weird but he just laughs you off stating, “easier access to you.”

Also he lovesss his stupid white tank top under his shirts. you call it stupid because jesus christ, every curve of his huge muscles on his abs and pecs are exacerbated by these tank tops. he has caught you drooling mid conversation when he casually walks around with it on.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Animal i tell you. he doesn’t give up. if he had it his way he could be straight fucking for 5 hours without a break. you’ve had to remind him a few times “Honey it hurts. i’m tired.” and weather he feels he’s got his fill or not will elicit a response like, “I’m sorry honey is daddy too much for you? Do you need a break?” or “Shut the fuck up. you’re going to appreciate whatever I give you and you WILL say thank you afterwards.” while snapping his hips harder into you. Most days the latter is preferred.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It takes him a while to actually settle afterwards. he needs to make sure you’re comfortable, not in any pain, cleaned up, and warm wrapped around him before he can settle and drift off to sleep.

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, Smut with Little Plot, Marking, Hair Pulling, Handjob(s), Slight Edging, Slight Praise, Overstimulation, Slight Cum Eating, Sub!Miguel, Dom!reader

Summary: You can make that funny feeling go away… can’t you?

A/N: Sub!Miguel makes me FERAL!!!

Word Count: 2.3K (Barely Edited)

“It hurts.”

That’s what Miguel mumbled when you were sucking along his throat, tongue lapping and toying with the sensitive skin. Bruises bloomed like flowers over his tanned skin and shined with leftover saliva. You had made yourself comfortable on his lap, straddling his hips while your hands rested on his chest and held the back of his neck. 

It hurt, but not a painful hurt. More like a…funny type of hurt. A funny sensation that crawled all over his skin like tiny spiders the longer you kissed his neck or shifted your hips to get a better angle. It almost burned in a way. It left him breathless and he had to hold on to your waist tightly to try to keep it at bay. 

When the two words had slipped from his mouth, you had paused momentarily before smirking into his skin and continuing on. As far as you knew, Miguel’s sexual experience could be chalked up to unrealistic videos and a sticky right hand. A teasing hum vibrated against his neck as you licked a strip up his neck to his ear. Maybe it was time to show him the real deal.

“It hurts? Where does it hurt, Miggy?” You asked with a tint of fake concern.

Miguel almost passed out when you tugged on his ear gently with your teeth the same time your hips ‘accidently’ grinded into him. His breath hitches and he holds your waist a bit tighter, sure to leave marks of his own later on. He bites his lip, trying to focus on your question and not on the way the sensation is beginning to seep through his skin and into his muscles. “Everywhere.”

It’s a whisper, bordering on a whine. You have to bite your own lip to stop yourself from letting out an amused chuckle. It’s mean. You know it is, finding a sense of excitement while your boyfriend is obviously trying to keep it together. But you can’t help it when he’s failing so hard.

“Everywhere?” You tease with a small gasp, “That isn’t good. Does this make it worse?”

A groan slips out when you rotate your hips hard. He has to grit his teeth to stop himself from cursing at you and grabbing your skin in a painful pinch. If it burned before, then now it was searing. It takes everything in him to not do the same back to you. “Yes.”

A small laugh slips out before you can stop it. This is too easy. Too much fun. “I’m so sorry. I bet you want it to go away, don’t you?”

“I don’t know how,” He grunts out trying to stop himself from moving again when you start kissing along his skin again. He doesn’t know if he wants to move his body closer or away from yours. It’s like his body and mind are battling each other. Over what? He doesn’t know.

“That’s okay. I know how.” You coo against his skin. “Want me to make it go away?”

His nod is immediate, desperate. He leans his body away from you slightly, taking his hands off of you so you can do whatever it is you need to do. His hands immediately ball up the bedsheet in his fists. When he moves away, you tsk lightly, using the hand still around his nape to pull him forward again. “I didn’t tell you to do that. How am I supposed to help if you run away?”

He mutters a “sorry”, too entranced by the way his face is so close to yours. His eyes can’t even meet yours. This is the first time in around 30 minutes that he has seen your face clearly now that it isn’t in the crook of his neck. Your lips are plump and glossy from your own spit and his eyes stay on them as you speak to him. He physically needs to stop himself from letting out a pathetic whine over the fact you’re not kissing him. 

You roll your eyes as you realize where his attention is. You lazily rest an arm over his shoulder as the hand around his neck comes up to his chin. You grip it slightly, moving his head upwards with little resistance so he can look into your eyes. His gulp is audible as his red eyes meet yours. He looks like a puppy, staring up at you with slightly glossy eyes. 

You hum in approval, mumbling “eyes up here” against his lips before pressing your lips together. 

The sigh he lets out is one full of relief as he closes his eyes. It’s as if he’s finally getting a sip of water after being out in the desert for days. His hands let go of the sheet in favor of getting them tangled in your hair. A groan vibrates from his chest when your tongue slips into his mouth, softly creasing his own. 

Your arm slowly moves off his shoulder as you press your mouth harder against his. It's a perfect distraction as your hand moves down to his sweatpants, slipping past the waistband and ghosting over something that’s leaking. Your eyes flutter opening to watch Miguel’s reaction when you swipe his mushroom tip with a finger. It instantly coats the pad of your finger in precum.

Miguel’s eyes snap open, pulling away from your lips to look down. When he sees your hand hidden under his pants, he can’t help the breathless moan he lets out. It’s even worse when your hand reappears, his cock in hand. He can’t stop it this time when his hips shift forward to get closer to your touch. 

He only looks away when you sharply tug his hair back. His head is tilted backwards as your face hovers over him. He whimpers at the sharp pain, a slightly anguished expression filling his features. He tries to move his head forward again, trying to look back down, but another sharp tug instantly brings his eyes back to yours. “What did I say? Eyes up here, sweet boy.”

The nickname makes him twitch, a puff of hair leaving his nose. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat trying to get away and get closer at the same time. The funny feeling is still there, but it’s more complicated now. It is still deadly strong, but it also is being eased with your touch. He wants it to stop and also wants it to continue. Maybe his brain is broken. Maybe that’s just how it is when he’s around you. God why hasn’t he ever let you jerk him off sooner?

With his head tilted back again, you go back to kissing his skin. Your hand begins to slowly move, squeezing his tip as more precum leaks out. You feel his gasp before you hear it, the shifting of his vocal cords bouncing against your lips. Your teeth try to catch the movement with a nip that only causes another gasp. 

When your hand leaves to glide up and down his length with a tight grip, Miguel has to shut his eyes. His hands leave your hair to clutch his sheets again. In this very moment, the word liar is the only coherent thought that can break through his foggy mind. Liar, liar, liar. You’re a dirty fucking liar. Because instead of making that funny feeling go away, you’re making it unbearable.

As if you can read his thoughts, you lick his skin and giggle. “I know, I know. You can get through this, can’t you?”

No. No he can’t. He knows he can’t. Not when you’re still marking his neck. Not when your hand is so warm. Not when it’s so tight. Not when you’re abusing his cock with each sharp tug and jerk. Not when you move your hand faster and faster only to slow down again when his pelvis jolts up. But he doesn’t say that. Instead he moans out, “Yes.”

And that’s the right answer. The perfect answer. He knows it is when you move your hand hard and fast again. He knows because you're smiling against his skin and kissing his lips again. He knows because when he thinks your hand is going to slow down again because he’s bucking his hips, you go faster instead and squeeze tight. 

He’s making a mess. He feels it when it soaks into his shirt and sweatpants. Hears it by the wet noise it makes when it hits your skin. He sees it when he pulls away and he tilts his head forward to see the cum, his cum, coating your hand as it slowly strokes him. He lets out a breathless sigh as he feels that funny feeling finally diminishing. 

As he’s about to lean back into the bed in relief, his body is jolting and shaking upwards. His head snaps back down and you’re still going. Your hand is picking up speed again and it’s bringing back that funny feeling tenfold. He’s sensitive. So sensitive. It hurts again. 

“What are you doing?” He grits out, reaching his hand out to try to stop yours. It’s instantly shut down when you slap his hand away and move faster. He lets out a stimulated whine and has to close his eyes to recollect himself. “You’re making it worse.”

You don’t reply to his question, just continuing to pump his dick almost mindlessly. He’s cursing out into the air, trying to speak but falling short every time you squeeze his tip. His body is shaking and his thighs and cock twitch with every movement. He leans back on his elbows, still gripping the sheets as he tries to twist his body away from your torturous hand. He even tries to buck his hips up harshly in hopes the power of it throws you off him. But, it only increases the onslaught of pleasure and now he can’t stop fucking your hand.

His hands need something to grab onto. Anything. He just needs something to stabilize himself. His hands are restless as they try to grab onto your skin, trying to find somewhere to help it feel less intense. The sheets aren’t much help, even when his knuckles are white and twisting them.

“There you go. That’s it. Good job, Miggy. Just keep doing that.” You coo down to him, your free hand coming to rest against his lower stomach to stabilize yourself against his thrusts. 

“Shut. Up.” Miguel whines pathetically in response. He’s so close, he can feel the funny feeling, no, the hurting feeling, peaking again. 

When he cums this time, he yells. His hips continue fucking your hand and he shuts his eyes tight as his body twitches with each stream of thick liquid. He’s breathing so heavily that it overpowers his rapid heartbeat. He’s a whining, pathetic mess under you as he tries to gather up all the pieces of his shattered brain. He’s so pretty with tears threatening to spill from his eyes. So pretty, that you can’t help needing to see him be undone one more time. One last time. 

The tears fall from his eyes when you move your hand rapidly once again. He’s yelling and whining as he really, really tries to get away. “Stop! Stop, stop, stop! Fuck! Too much..hurts.”

He can’t really do anything though, his body is sluggish from his last orgasm and all his previous attempts to get you to stop were in vain. He quite literally can’t do anything but take it as he cries and sobs. It’s too much. Hurts too badly. 

“One more. I promise one more and I’ll stop. Be a good boy and give me one more.” You whisper in his ear.

He can only whine. He knows he isn’t going to last long, not when he already came two times and the overstimulation makes him feel everything. Everything down to the way your breath spreads goosebumps on his skin and how he can feel the veins of his cock pulsate. He can only throw his arm over his eyes as he lets his mouth stay open in whines and pleads.

Too much, s-stop. Hurts- please, it hurts. Hurts. Too much. Please, fuck! Please, please, please. 

He keeps chanting those words over and over again. They sound weak and stupid coming out of his mouth as he tries to not pass out from how overwhelming everything is. He only sobs in relief when he feels the tightening of his balls again. When he practically feels his cum travel from them and up to his tip. He pushes his hips, and you, up on shaky legs as he releases. He sobs harder when your warm mouth surrounds his tip so you can swallow his cum. 

He whines loudly as his hips lazily rock into your mouth as you suck him gently before pulling off of him when you finish drinking your fill. When he feels your body completely disappear off of him, he slowly removes his arm off his eyes and blinks sluggishly as his eyes adjust to the light again. He’s barely breathing when your face appears above his. You smile softly down at him and reach your hand up to caress his face. 

He lets out a broken hum, shakily removing your hand from his face with a gentle: “Don’t. Too sensitive right now.”

His body is still jolting and twitching randomly, trying to get his body back to a non-broken state. You hum in understanding, sitting patiently besides him until the hyper awareness of his body disappears. When it fades, you hand him the water bottle he keeps at his desk and give him a kiss. He hums in appreciation as he drinks from it and sits back up. 

Your hands come back to caress his jaw, giving it a soft kiss. “What do you say for making the funny feeling go away?”

Your teasing question makes Miguel want to roll his eyes. But, he still moves his head to connect your lips together. “Thank you.”

He hopes that funny feeling comes back soon.

Can you tell how much more fun it is for me to write about submissive men :)).

[k0yaz]

MAAM CMERE SIT DOWN LISTEN

Arlecchino x Harbinger fem reader and they have the type of relationship where they’re always “bickering” but it’s just Arlecchino telling reader to stfu and reader replying with smth SUPER suggestive and out of pocket headcanons 🗣️

Please and thank you 💕

arlecchino with an out of pocket girlfriend hcs

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, slightly suggestive, VERY short, I spent way too long at the fucking car dealership pls cut me some slack, I’m tired today, I love fellow arle fans but literally why are yall like the size of 5 nations omg, my spotify shuffle is so stupid I hate it, like wdym u keep playing the same song over and over.

A/N: YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND READER IS LITERALLY ME BRO also I lied but I’m too lazy to spill oneshots today so this was the only hc fic I had and I decided to be lazy on it 🕯️

OH MY GOD SOMEONE SAVE ARLECCHINO

As much as this woman loves you, she always cringes so hard at your flirty remarks. Like you swear she PHYSICALLY recoils from you.

It’s ok though you’re the only woman she’d tolerate this shit from

Both of you would have a disagreement here and there, but doesn’t take long for that to turn into full blown back and forth bickering the second you to open your mouth.

Arlecchino asks you to stop in an embarrassed voice as she covers her forehead. She was totally hiding that she’s lowkey flustered.

BRO HER CHILDREN MAKE FUN OF HER SO MUCH IF THEY WALK IN ON THIS

Like you’d be there giving Arlecchino that smirk as you say something that’s so unhinged, and most likely Lyney would walk in to his father looking away with her face slightly red.

Then he tells everyone and ends up getting his ass whooped by Arlecchino-

OH MY GOD ITS SO MUCH WORSE IN FRONT OF THE OTHER HARBINGERS

You tease her so much in public and at harbinger meetings that everyone just stares at you two like a deer in headlights.

You maybe considered doing it in front of the Tsaritsa…but you did have to maintain your respect for her so you ultimately didn’t do it.

Doesn’t mean you don’t want to though.

Pretty much your convos would go something like..

“(Name), with all due respect, please shut your mouth.” “Maybe just gag me with your fingers or an actual ball gag to shut me up instead!” “What the fuck.”

IM CRYING THAT WAS FUNNY TO WRITE

Anyway all in all as much of a pain in the ass as you are, she still loves you :3

…and maybe sometimes she takes your remarks too seriously and yall get 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂.

A/N: I genuinely apologize for making this so short once again I feel super drained today and plus I had no ideas for this my brain juice is dry 💔