#or maybe I need to draw someone else for fucking once god damn

[devilishdelights]

some mammon stuffs from awhile ago. I did this for every character (pain.) to figure out how I want em to look like + use as refs.

#every time I draw him it feels as if I can’t get him right. like these are the peak mammon drawings I have that 100% show how I envision him #maybe I just need 2 do a big study. hehe #or maybe I need to draw someone else for fucking once god damn #he has such a tiny nose in the first one LOL ❤️ #n his hair I kinda like. I’m trying to draw it more accurately now though but idk I think it works for me in my style. but in other drawings #it just looks off. drawing bangs r harder than it looks #bc u wanna get them even n pleasing 2 the eye. so when u flip the canvas it’s chill #do not flip these I have not seen the flipped LMFAO I don’t wannsee it #he also has this angular eyeshape I do that just makes it feel like mammon to me. #angular as in there’s like three lines. if that makes sense #I think u can see it in my other drawings #like the eyes here are round. but it’s still like. drawn in three parts instead of one continuous line. #I feel hunched over like a scientist explaining his greatest creation to those who accidentally stumble across him #my other faves r beel’s + solomon’s icons. they’re just so fucking nice!!! not to toot my own fucking horn but I’m tooting it toot toot #enywey. back 2 the guy here. I also think he has a crooked smile or just one side that lifts higher than the other. yk that boyish charm bs #u read in YA books. yeah. and he’s got dimples on his cheeks. and lower back !!!! #both noses r different n the left is one where I was still figuring it out. the right is how I envision it more/all my other posts w him #he’s got a soft round shaped nose. very squishable too #ALSO GOLDEN FANGS YEAH but I’ve had a hard time drawing them without it looking weird with all the other teeth #n his eyebrows have that little spike at the curve that I rlly like but it’s always covered by his fuckinf hair so most of the time u can’t #even see it. anyway I’m done rambling I’m just bored as fuck. cheers #also sorry for changing my icon all the time. it cannot be helped

[sidneyprescottswhore]

BROOOO IM IN LOVE WITH AMBER AND UR WRITING IS AMAZING AND U NEED MORE AMBER FICS SO IM GOING TO REQUESTTTT🥶🥶 SO LIKE CAN U DO SMTH WHERE LIKE AMBER AND READER ARE ENEMIES SO LIKE AMBER BREAKS INTO READERS HOUSE TO KILL HER BUT FINDS HER HIDING IN LIKE A BRA AND PANTIES AND LIKE FUCKS HER BC SHE LOOKS SO CUTE🙏🙏🙏🙏 also pls add mommy kink ik u said she might have a daddy kink but pls do mommy instead😖😖😾😾😾😭😭

your hands were on my hips, your name was on my lips

over over again, like my only prayer

amber freeman x fem!reader.

warnings: g!p amber, choking, other shit… however i am so fucking lazy sorry <3

after finishing this i realized i forgot a mommy kink! well oops also this is short and sucky sorry i have no fucking motivation and really want to write for lana

that phone call.

that same voice from the threatening phone call you had recieved minutes before, was now booming through your house.

you had obviously thought they were joking.

“im gonna tear through your house, and then through you next.”

god, could they have worded that any worse? “im gonna tear through you.” to you, that had just sounded like a more, rough, way to talk about sex.

but, maybe, maybe you were just a sex freak.

so obviously, you had went back to what you were doing before. hanging up the phone, not giving a shit less of what that person had to say.

but now, you regreted just sitting there, rather than calling the police. you chose not to think of your regret, but more or less to just stay quiet, and still. there was someone roaming throughout your house. of course you were gonna stay quiet?? what the fuck else would you be doing?

you were embarrassed shitless. at this time and moment, this stranger couldn’t have wanted to kill you at a worse time. you were stuck, in lacy white panties, finished with a pink little bow. even had a matching bralette. it was fucking freezing, and you were gonna die in the most provocative outfit you could have ever worn that day. you felt like you were sitting on bricks, as you sat atop on all of the piled up shoes in your closet.

as you stood up to move the shoes covering the floor, you heard your bedroom door slam open, you immediately fell to your feet, hand cupping your mouth in order to not let any noise escape.

what an uncomfortable way to die… damn.

you heard the footsteps approaching that closet door, and you immediately started to think of ways to seduce this person, because.. it was really all you could do, considering you were dressed up as if you were a hooker. as if you were waiting for this moment, to use your charm. to use your body to seduce one who was there to kill you. to show it off to all your hooker friends. but no, that was not the case at all.

your mind was cluttered with so many thoughts that you had lost all attention to the world, it wasnt until you felt the cold metal of what looked like a knife underneath your chin, that you had realized.. some person.. in a mask, was staring right at you. it was a dumb mask, really. like, lets say, michael myers… but if he got his face melted off. the way the eyes and jaw hung low made you giggle as you looked this ‘killer’ in the eyes of the mask. it wasnt till after your giggle fit that you realized: this guy might be for real, i mean, you could even feel that knife sliding down to your neck, the cold metal point poking you just so slightly. drawing the tiniest prick of blood, and the tiniest tear in the corner of your eye.

“aww.. what’s wrong? i thought that.. that it was funny?”

the once menacing voice that was on the other side of that phone line, was now gentle and teasing. even stuttering between words. its like he wanted to pity you.

as the guy slid the knife away from you, you could hear his breathing pick up. he sucked in a breath and began to talk to you once more.

“you’re cute you know.. makes me not wanna kill you.” the knife was now sliding down to your bra. “adorable” he closed..wait, he? HE? no, this person was not a “he”. the voice was more clear as he said that last word. less groggy and robotic, more… feminine.

the “guy” who was gonna spare your life because of your charm.. was a woman.

you snapped back to reality at your nipples being exposed to the cold air, you looked down to see she severed the fabric of your bra. it sat ontop of your lap, your nipples hardening from the air.

“such cute nipples.” she said. her hands dropped the knife that sat in her hands originally, now moving to remove her gloves, and then her mask.

straight, pretty, black hair was revealed first, then a pale, beautiful face next. her eyes were gorgeous, her face was glistening in the light from sweat, her hair sticking to her forehead. god, you were… you were mesmerized.

you didn’t realize how long you had actually been staring for until you had realized her robe slowly being removed.

jesus christ.

you stared right at her black lacey panties, the bulge catching you off guard. it had looked like her cock was practically straining against the fabric, begging to be free.

you didn’t care that she had a dick, you didn’t care that she was just holding a knife up to your throat, you didn’t even care she came here solely to kill you.

you just wanted her so bad.

you started by slowly removing her panties, her cock springing out infront of your face. if you were being honest, she wasn’t that big. her cock was almost 6 inches, with a slight curve. but that didn’t even matter to you.

“i’m sorry that it wasn’t what you were expecting.” she frowned, obviously self conscious about her size. “no, no. it’s so fucking-“ your breath was hot on the tip of her cock as she took it into her hand, a slight amount of precum leaking from it. “-so fucking perfect.” you finished.

you took the tip into your mouth, catching amber by surprise. she seemed sensitive, already slowly bucking into your mouth. “easy there.” she nodded at that, stopping immediately. your tongue swirled around the tip, tasting that precum from before.

“look at me.” you spoke, your eyes looking up at her as she screwed her own shut, she attempted to open her eyes, not wanting to disobey. “you feel- so g-good..” she whined as you took the full length into your mouth. your hands snaked around to grab her ass as you continued to take her cock in your mouth, drool was sliding down your chin, you were sloppy but it just made it even better.

“oh, o-oh god.” she whimpered, resuming her movements as she bucked back into your mouth. “baby.. please” she was begging at this point.

“cum for me.” she cried at that, god she was so fucking sensitive. you took your mouth off of her, stroking her cock slowly. “please.. faster i can’t cum like that-“ she was whining, desperate and on the fucking edge.

“thats too bad, come on.. you can do it.” you cooed, rubbing her cock slow as ever. “f-fuck!” she moaned, feeling herself release all over your face. you groaned at that, continuing to stroke your cock until every last drop was gone.

“you taste so good, doll.”

#smut #scream #scream masterlist #x reader #scream fanfics #scream smut #amber freeman #amber freeman x afab reader #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman smut #amber freeman x afab #scream franchise #scream iv

[terrence-silver]

which do you think is the most unusual or surprising kink for each TIG character?

---

― To me, Terry McCain always seemed like he actually, deep down, liked subbing. Or rather, someone else taking charge and relieving some of his tensions and all the stresses that come with his particular line of work --- which are many. There's a lot of stresses in being a Detective --- in being in Law Enforcement --- trust and believe. Guy's immensely dedicated to his profession, his badge, his colleagues, his duties, those he puts behind bars and does he doesn't even more so; he works too hard, he kicks, he fights, he's a bit unhinged and very impassioned by nature and needs to blow off some steam lest he blows a fuse. These are just facts. Not to mention, it's hard to explain, but something about a very temperamental man like him being so full of perverted innuendos, being so cocky, hotheaded, naturally volatile and conventionally Catholic (with a tinge of guilt that might come with unconventional desires) yields itself to be the belief that he'd enjoy being reigned in and topped and letting loose through that, even if he doesn't realize it and nobody else realizes it either, because he has all the supposed markers of someone who takes charge, right? Right!? Wrong. In my humblest of opinions, it's usually the people who are full of bravado and excessive excessiveness that enjoy being put in their place once in a while and silenced; Terry McCain is one such person, I feel.

― Gus Travis has a thing for domesticity. I think he likes aprons, housewives, someone devotedly waiting on him and he likes homes in general, or rather, homeliness and its overall setting and atmosphere; could sound unusual, but when you live a criminal lifestyle, robbing, stealing, being on the run, spending time in compounds, harbors, boats, ships and on living the life of a felon, the concept of domesticity becomes rare and attractive irregardless of the fact that Gus always just dreamed of sailing out and never coming back. One doesn't cancel out the other. He enjoys fucking someone bent over a counter. Over furniture. While they make him dinner. While they draw him a bath. He wants to approach them from behind while they iron clothes or lounge at them and get handsy while they're carrying in groceries they picked up at the supermarket as he angrily demands to know where were they and what took them so long. He might just enjoy spicing up his kink for domesticity by playing the role of a jealous husband, which is everything but a role. He really is like that. But, as for the rest? He wants to be everything he's not; A man who's happily settled down in a sleepy suburbia; the big bad criminal fucking and despoiling his person on every surface ordered from some glossy catalogue like a man on dry land should.

― Just going off of sheer logic, you know what a Vampire who's been bereft of the sun undoubtedly want most? Just making love somewhere out in the open. Unfettered. In nature. Under God's sky. Maybe a summery, abandoned beach somewhere, absolutely uninhibited and unburdened, as naked and free as Adam and Eve in the garden before the fall. That feels like Jan Valek. Profoundly so. Because, lets face it, he's for sure tried everything --- he's had six centuries to try everything, not limited by stamina, exhaustion or basic human needs. Blood play and being telepathically connected with his whole coven, feeling everything they feel, copulating with them, copulating and seducing his victims too, eating them and drinking them and all sorts of unimaginables that we could reasonably subscribe to the Father of the Damned himself, but the one thing Jan couldn't have is, say, sex under the sun. Just simply basking out there, feeling someone's skin warmed by the rays from above next to his; a fantasy so prevalent, out of reach and overidealized in his mind that it turned into a dream as well as a sexual desire. Proof his soul has been regained. That he's whole. Liberated. He's wanted this all his life and couldn't have it. Maybe it's precisely why he aches for it.

― You asked for surprising and unusual kinks these characters have, but would anyone really be surprised if I said Jack Blaylock has a fixation for lust murder as a concept? Would anyone really be surprised by that? That he's an Erotophonophiliac and Autoassasinophiliac in equal measure? That he likes death? Fetishizes it, rather. Putting someone in potentially mortal danger and bringing them back from the edge before actual harm can come to them? That he finds it to be an artistic craft? Killing in a lovely way? Killing gruesomely? Killing neatly and killing chaotically? Pretending to kill and making it look and feel real? That he finds it erotic? Like an artist painting a canvas for commission? That his sexual fixations are just as fatal as his profession? That the fact he terminates targets for hire bled into what he wants in sex? That he finds the dead beautiful? Alluring? That he could very well verge into flat out Necrophilia? Thing is, he wants to wrap his hands around your windpipes and press down enough to make you lose consciousness, or dig the tip of a sword to a jugular just precisely enough to where if he moved a mere centimeter, he'd bleed you dry. Maybe have you lay down perfectly still, pretending not to be alive anymore, while he trails his hands across your arms, legs. Yeah. There's a thought.

― Being a dirty cop who likes making his profit on the side through extortion, abductions, embezzling and kidnapping, having his professional (and unprofessional) criminal career leanings possibly blend in with his kinks, I think Cash has a deep abiding relish for when his hostages actually...get a load of this...manage to escape. Or rather, to be more precise provide good sport and offer him the opportunity of a good chase. Not so much to where they actually endanger and sabotage the mission, but certainly enough to where he can intercept them, capture them, subdue them, threaten them up close and personal and retrieve them back. He doesn't mind a good fight. A good kick. Some spitting. Some blood. Doesn't mind meekness and surrender either, so long as there was some unexpected spice to the whole issue at hand. Something to quell the often repetitive catch and grab home invasion tactic that makes him his profit and the long, tense, tedious hours and days of negotiation actually needed to earn him that ransom money. And even though he's all strictness and he might tell a hostage to sit down, stay put, be quiet and obey, Cash actually wants them to misbehave and show some spunk and teeth in spite of what he says. It's exhilarating, it's lively, it pumps up the blood, and most importantly --- it's hot.

― I think Terry Silver's tried every type of sex, fetish and kinkery under the sun throughout his life, so if one thing that could be surprising or unusual in the bedroom with him is that he's actually a sucker for plain old intimacy and someone just taking care of him. Someone he can put his guard down with. Be 'weak' with, considering he's someone who places immense value into strength and supremacy as an ideal and this is precisely why this desire for someone's dedication is so oddly transgressive for him in the first place. He wants someone he can be vulnerable with behind closed doors, as much as Terry can be vulnerable in the classical sense. A kink for someone being his savior, even, considering trauma, personhood and sexuality correlate and intermingle very deeply with him, and the many times, and that one particular crucial instance he was saved during the war quite literally set up the trajectory of his whole life from there on out. As such, on some guilty, immensely hidden and pathological level Terry gets a kick for someone standing up for him to the degree it actually turns him on because he correlates it with love. He doesn't need anyone to do it. He's stronger, more capable and cunning than anyone he goes toe to toe with, but it's the act of devotion itself --- oh, the act of devotion that works as a potent aphrodisiac when Terry sees you speaking up for him, defending him, championing him that just does something to his brain that makes him want to excuse himself to go and fuck you that very instant.

#terry silver #terry mccain #cash #gus travis #jan valek #jack blaylock #kk3 #cobra kai #excessive force #kidnapping #the kidnapping #black friday #vampires #black point #ulterior motives #terry silver x reader #terry mccain x reader #cash x reader #jan valek x reader #gus travis x reader #jack blaylock x reader #tw; kinks

[afatallovesong]

Hello! Ilysm and I was wondering if I could have a Calum one shot please? Thank you so much and I'm sending a lot of love and positivity your way 💖

So, ummm, this is absolute filth lmao, enjoy!

Early Grave

A Calum Hood one shot

18+, Smut, NSFW

Word Count: 3063

His hips are still rutting, stuttering into you, pounding his finish deep inside. His eyes can’t stay open, dropping closed with tiredness, with pleasure, all the things a man could ever wish to feel, buried deep in someone they love. “Oh god, oh fuck baby” he’s not even directing it at you, more the universe, letting it know of his eternal gratitude for it giving him the perfect gift that was you.

He’s stroking over your inner thighs drawing incoherent shapes into your thick flesh while he’s coming down. His head previously filled with fog now starting to clear. He’s softening inside you, sodden with the mix of both of your arousals. He wants slip from you and take care of you, clean you both, or maybe even force his face between your legs, he can’t quite decide the best way to play it out yet but either way, his movement was required.

He’s retracting his hips with a sigh, and you clutch desperately onto his wrists, pulling him back down, his pelvis back into you. “Please, please stay.” You’re breathless. Not just from him fucking you either. There’s neediness and an urgency laced within your tone. He’s sceptical, watching your lust filled gaze as he goes to move again, maybe you were just sensitive from your come down or something. But as your nails begin digging into the backs of his palms, he’s arching his brow and starting to get the picture. “Need you to stay.” You start rocking your hips up from the mattress, grinding your soaked cunt over his twitching cock to further assist your plea.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” You whimper a response, it’s pathetic to him. It’s even more pathetic to you. You can’t fight your urges, not that you’d tried particularly hard to. You just felt so good and so close again already. Just the feeling of his cum inside you, his cock still thick against your walls, it was absurd. “Two orgasms not enough for you?” He grips your thighs hard enough to leave a warning in the shape of crescent moons. He’s so overwhelmed. He knew you were greedy, but this, this was incessant even by his standards. The most unsettling part for him however, is that he knows he doesn’t have it in him to cum again and what fucking fun is it, if he doesn’t get gratification too? When he’s making you feel that hungry, doesn’t he deserve some reward? His cock is disagreeing with all of his logic. His girlfriend is desperately getting herself off on his well spent dick and he has the audacity to stand and stare in bewilderment instead of offering her more of a hand all because it doesn’t suit his own needs. He couldn’t be that selfish.

“Such a fucking slut.” You don’t even bat an eyelid. Any other time of day, you’d scold him for referring to you like that, but he was so far from wrong. You were a slut, a cock hungry, fucked out little whore for one man only. The moment he came inside you felt the familiar building of another orgasm and you were like a dog in heat, no control over it at all. It was a fucking necessity to cum again and you needed his assistance or else it wasn’t enough; it might never be enough. Hell, it felt like a betrayal every time you touched yourself without his presence or approval on a normal day, even on the long nights where your schedules were too conflicted to sync up. To finish now without his guidance would be even more sinful. To finish with him right here, but not let it be at his hand. You just might have to damn yourself.

He’s rolling his eyes at the smile on your lips when his thumb brushes your clit. “You’re ridiculous.” He scolds. You’re too busy grinding against him to care, in your mind you’d already won. “Can’t even listen to me now hmm, is that any way to thank me for helping you?” He goes to pull his thumb from you and once again you pay him immediate attention, your life depended on his touch. “So, fucking ungrateful.” You were, you really were. He’d give you the moon and stars and yet you just wanted to get off again, you were awful. “I’m sorry baby, so fucking sorry.” You slow your movements, embarrassed by your behaviour, mortified to be clinging onto him the way you were.

“God, when you pout.” He’s pausing to capture your gaze. “Makes me wanna give you the world.” Your heart would burst if your cunt weren’t on fire instead. “Gonna pull out now.” He lifts his hand to shush you before you attempt to protest. “You’re gonna roll over, get on your knees and take what you need kay?” He gestures his instructions with the rotation of his index finger. You don’t do anything but stare. “Why should I do all the work when it’s you wanting to get off hmm?” Although his words seem harsh, you know he’s already forgiven you.

He’s cupping your face in his hands. “Fuck yourself on my cock pretty girl.” You melt, face nuzzling into his palms, so pretty for him. His cock is twitching at the sweet image of you adoring him the way only you could. Your eyes so big, cheeks so dark with a blush. Your mascara dripping down your cheeks to top it off for him. You gave him such a superiority complex. He ought to fix that. Not today though. “Be a good girl for me and climb on.” He rolls onto his back, patting his thighs down for you to find. You do as you’re told. You swing your legs on either side of his lap, reaching between your legs to guide him back inside of you. You ignore the essence of him dripping down onto him. “Making such a fucking mess of us.” He’s irritated, hated the feeling. He loved the view don’t get him wrong but if he wanted to be covered in his own cum he’d be wanking alone with a tissue in hand to clean him up.

This was the opposite of that, you were there to take his load, not give it back to him mixed with a concoction of your own. The things he did for you. “Sit down already.” He slammed your hips down over him, cock reaching the hilt of you. You squeal at the intrusion, and he wants rolls his eyes. It’s as if you were cock starved or something. “Need you to hurry.” He’s so over this. He loves you, loves the feeling of you, loves the idea that you need him so much you can’t cope without his cock inside you, warming him there for another round but he’s unbelievably irritated. Maybe he’s turning himself on again and embarrassed that he was as weak as you. Maybe he’s just exhausted and desperate to sleep it all away. Maybe you’re taking too damn long to use him and he’s missing out on watching you lose yourself in your own bliss.

“Come on, bounce for me. Need it.” You do as he says and his head rolls back hitting his pillow with a thud. He released a guttural groan. “That’s it, that’s a good girl.” He’s not sure if he’s saying it for your benefit or his own anymore. He couldn’t deny the heat rushing to his cock when you clenched around it. He almost stirred himself into believing he too, might have unfinished business with you.

Your ass is slapping his thighs hard, your bodies bouncing violently into the mattress. The squelching sound of your soaked pussy gliding over his cock is so vulgar and foul but when you’re chasing your high it was just a constant reminder of how close it was and how good it was going to feel soon.

His cock being semi erect didn’t even have a negative effect like he’d worried. He thought it might not be enough, would never get you there. He was wrong. He was so totally incorrect it was laughable. The thought of his softening cock still leaking cum inside you had you so close to the edge you thought you’d never stop using him. You couldn’t pinpoint why exactly it was attractive to you. Maybe the thought of him being drained for you, cock emptied into you, nothing left to give because of you and yet his damn hips were rocking anyway. You were so much of a temptation to him that his body allowed him some rigidity just to keep him going for you. That his body was so responsive and in love with you that it would do just about anything if it meant he could please you. He was just as much a slut for you as you were for him. You have to marry this man.

“You’re getting hard,” you gasped out. “Oh, my fuck,” he’s as shocked as you are, utterly exhausted and yet, his body was on a different wavelength. “Gonna cum babe,” you’re falling to pieces around him, and he’s so lost in lust he can’t respond anything more constructive than a breathless “yeah?” And even worse, the repetition of what you’d already said, “gonna cum for me hmm.” You’re sweating so hard, its dripping down you like droplets of rain. “Oh god, oh fuck I’m gonna cum, oh baby, shit.” Your body is shaking, your cunt is twitching, you have to seat yourself right against him, swallow him whole, feeling the pain of his fullness inside of you, gripping his shoulders for dear life as you cream all over him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He’s kissing you, surging forwards, forcing his tongue down your throat, yanking your head back with a harsh tug of your hair. You’re crying against his mouth as your legs still jitter on either side of him.

“All better now? Got what you wanted?” You’d nod if he gave you the space to. “Yes, yes.” You’re still clenching around him. He uses all his strength not to show you how it affected him. He uses his spare hands to brush your clit again. Your hips buck violently, and you yell. “No please!” You’re so sensitive you feel your body run from his touch, resenting it completely, starting to sting actually. “Oh, so now you’re done. Got what you wanted, don’t wanna play anymore?” He’s still touching you, still playing. You’re shuddering, you feel the compulsivity to retreat, hard. “Not so nice when it’s the other way around.” He plays. “When you’re sensitive.” He doesn’t dare stop his assault, a newfound energy coursing through his veins, revenge. “Stop, stop please.” You’re clawing at his shoulders, almost mirroring how you’d started this, tears slipping from your eyes. “I won’t again, I promise I won’t do it again, please.” You’re pleading for your life in his hands.

“What about me?” He’s looking you dead in the eyes. “You noticed I’m still hard, what are you gonna do about it?” You can’t fathom what to say, not when his fingers are still attacking you. You can’t utter a single word. Your hips just jolt and rock, body trying to escape his fingers, the assault on your clit. You’re so over the edge, you’re right on the other side falling to your death, falling into a hell of over overstimulation and sensitivity, you can feel everything but equally nothing at all and your mind is going blank.

Your hands still dig into his shoulders, gripping him as if it would even stop him. Watching you struggle, seeing you regret your choice to mess with him is sending him into a world of satisfaction he hadn’t known he’d needed. He owned every piece of you, and he was still in control, and you’d be stupid to forget it again. When you came back round, he would tell you. He would let it be known; you would have to learn. “Shit, feel it.” He’s choking out. “You fucking did this.” There are tears cascading form your eyes now, no longer trickling gently down your face. You couldn’t decide when they’d started falling but the sting felt in each cheek let you know it had been a while.

“Tell me you love me.” He’s gripping your neck, bringing your face down toward him. You’re still lost in a space so far from the comforts of his bedroom, but you hear him. His voice is reaching you through the darkness. “Tell me you still love me, baby.” He’s begging you. You mutter the words he longs to hear as if there was ever a question of how you felt about him. “Love you so much it hurts, makes me fucking crazy baby.” He’s letting go, he’s letting go for you, on your word, on your command, even if unintentional.

He too is seeing stars painted across his eyelids. A heaviness he’d never experienced before. The sinking of both his and your body into the mattress, falling deeper, into a city of sheets and bed linen built just for the two of you. Your body is hot against him. The only reminder of where you actually were in a physical state, right on top of him, connected to him. He’s wrapping his arms around your shoulders, opening his eyes, willing himself back into the present. You’re slumped over him, skin hot and coated in a sheen of sweat that glistened in the low light. You looked so pathetic, folded over him as if you were the bed sheet yourself, encasing his torso, shielding his nakedness. He wasn’t sure if you’d drifted off to sleep or if you’d even come back from your heavenly trip. You often disappeared into your own headspace after sex. Somewhere far and beyond, he’d hoped you’d take him with you one day.

“You feeling okay?” You’re mumbling over his chest, hot breathe tingling against his skin. He feels instant relief at the sound of your voice. His fingers thread themselves through your hair, combing through until they reach your scalp, allowing him to massage you, soothe you while you lay. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You’d laugh if you had the breath left in you to do so. “What you thinking bout pretty girl?” Your fingers begin to break the illusion, no longer draped over him like soft linen but a living, moving human once more, swirling your initials into his ribcage. “How fucking good a bath would be.” He’s snorted a laugh and you grumble when it erupts from his chest, rocking you against him.

“You think I’m gonna run you a bath after that performance?” Your lips curl into a smile against him before you push yourself up, lifting your face. Your hands grip the sheets to support you as you lift your upper half. “No, no, don’t leave me yet.” He whines. “Please, please stay.” He mimics your earlier tone with a smirk. “You’re mean when you’re spent.” You pout, before running your thumb across his bottom lip, admiring the plump, cushiony skin all pink and kissable. “You’re pretty.” You doubted that. You didn’t have to think too hard about what you may look like, hair all over the place, mascara dripping, crusted spit in more places than you’d ever wish for. “Bath with me?” You prod his chest. He groans.

It sounded like a wonderful idea to his aching bones but the willpower it would take to get from this room to the next might have been one marathon too many. “5 more minutes.” You offer, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He’s stroking your cheek as you do it. It’s like you’re breathing life back into him, he’s feeling less weighed down, no longer tied to his position on the bed. He’s able to lean himself up, tilting your head back as he breathes his own passion into you. You swear your cunt is throbbing again. You’re cursing it inside your head for its obsession for gratification but then he’s twitching and slowly rolling his hips again. “You’re fucking kidding me.” You don’t know if he’s talking to you or himself, but you felt his annoyance. “What’s wrong with us?” You moan against his mouth. “Wish I fucking knew.” He agreed.

He’s cupping your ass, to scoot you away from his cock, at least that’s what he’s telling himself, hoping he’d retreat from inside you and let this be the end of it but no, you cry out when he’s doing the opposite, lifting into you, “fuck, I can’t, I can’t” you think you can, but you can’t, he’s too much, it’s all too much. Your head is rolling back. He agrees, he knows somewhere inside of him he agrees, so he really tries to restrain himself and by some miracle, he stops but God he burns for you.

“Run that bath, stay the hell away from me for like 20 minutes or I don’t know what I’m gonna do with you.” He says like he’s scared. Like he’s threatening someone sinister who’s putting you in imminent danger but it’s the farthest from it. He’s just so insanely in love with you and your perfect cunt that he can’t keep away. It’s like you’d infected him with it, you’d bewitched him. There were worse diseases to catch and spells to fall under, sure, but love was exhausting. A love like this was unimaginable.

“I love you.” You kiss him once more before finally dragging your naked form away. Where you felt on fire before, the moment you left his touch it was as if a blizzard had hit, and you were the only one to feel the cold. “I know, I love you too that’s the fucking problem.” He covers his face briefly, sighing into his palms before leaning up to watch you scuttle away into the bathroom. The sight of your ass dark with prints and bruises had his cock pulsating against his stomach. “Give me a break.” He’s not sure who he’s speaking to, but he hopes he’s heard. He hopes that whoever it was would take his words and do something about it, or better yet allow him the opportunity not to. The last think he needed was to fuck himself into and early grave. 

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos imagine #5sos one shot #5sos smut #5sos calum #calum hood smut #5sos calum smut #5sos calum imagine #5sos calum fic #calum hood fic #calum hood one shot #calum hood imagine #calum hood 5sos #5 seconds of summer calum #calum 5 seconds of summer

[hazbinhappy]

Hey just saw you had hazbin hotel match ups open! I’m a trans man (he/him pronouns) for sexuality I don’t really have a definite answer I’m open to all with a small preference to more feminine presenting people!

For personality and what not I’m told by friends I’m either chaotic neutral or chaotic evil lol, I’m decently slow to open up maybe saying one or two words and over all being pretty quiet but once I open up you gotta tape my mouth shut to get me to shut up (though actually I do enjoy the feeling of tape over my mouth I blame autism for that) I make a lot of sexual jokes (constant “that’s what he/she/they said and other stuff) along with that I have a pretty major sailor mouth as well I can be pretty sarcastic in addition I can be pretty slow as well I can be a bit all over the place which you might be able to see here idk lol! For stuff I enjoy doing I really love visual arts (I enjoy painting, been doing stuff with clay, digital art, trying to figure out animation) I also very much enjoy writing (I have I think it was 20+ unfinished fics on ao3 lol) been trying to figure out how to bake, and idk I have an obsession with plushies (please send help they completely cover my bed when I lay them all out) for stuff I enjoy it’s a bit harder since I constantly move around one thing to another like unless someone is with me I’ll start a show or movie watch the first five minutes then do something else unless I was already a fan of it, I will say I do enjoy the weird kid stuff like the bendy franchise and I know the lore of fnaf pretty well (until security breach when robot Gregory theory came out I gave up) tbh not much for stuff I hate I’m a pretty open person and don’t really hate a lot of stuff besides the word moist (it’s the one word that sounds like what it is and I hate the texture of that kinda stuff to and I can feel the word) it is the one thing I actively hate. For appearance while I don’t have an active drawing of my sinner look I don’t have much other then I picture being goat like (fucking love goats) and not really important but dying my hair constantly like how I do irl. Also even though yes I am a trans man I still like wearing skirts and dresses because damn it if I can’t be a pretty man then I don’t want to be a man (that is very much a lie I am still a man even if I won’t be able to wear my dresses and skirts)

Also one last important thing I don’t want to be matched up with Husk (I see him as a dad and I don’t want to deal with being paired up with my father) nor do I want to be paired up with Angel (I ship him and Husk so I don’t want to be paired up with other father) also no Lucifer I feel like if I get paired up my friend will kill me I wish I was joking she is only willing to threaten me when I do much as joke about taking them. Anyways have an amazing day/night I hope this was enough!

Your Matchup is.....

Velvette! You gotta here me out before I dish out the headcanons and mini-blurb!

Looks at that cutie god I love her!

Anyways! I matched y'all up for multiple reasons! Have you seen the girl? She may be put together but Respectless just screamed out that she is chaos when need be and chaotic people love to be together (I mean look at Hell lmao). I think she wouldn't mind someone who is slow to open because she it lets her have more time for you to model and work with her! She wouldn't mind the sexual jokes and curses or sarcasm because that is up her alley (I mean Valentino is literally one of her colleagues I don't think she cares too much for him lmao).

okay onto the headcanons because those will explain better, no?

It may sound weird but I think Velvette would go to art shows to get inspiration! Fashion shows are actually a way to express and test what you can do with fashion so art shows are a great way to get inspiration

And wowie lookie there, a certain artist just happens to peak her interest a lot! She may either personally chat with you or send an email asking to collaborate on some pieces.

I wish in the show they played more with Velvette and the fashion instead of the social media. I think she'd be a boss in the artistic fashion and practical fashion

I swear this is important: Shae Bishop makes ceramic clothing and some of his work was in my school's art gallery!

why is that important? well i think it would be pretty cool if that was something you proposed to Velvette! She'd be unsure because "isn't that clay? isn't that breakable?" and it's a whole explanation about how it's for the art not actual long-time wear

so that brings you guys closer!

she did consider making a deal with you to permanently keep you around but you just kept coming back on your own so she didn't really feel the need if you just came back all the time

i think the dating would be a mutual understanding, but you'd ask and she'd be "of course, why wouldn't we be? (eyeroll)" (she was actually nervous to ask)

if/when you moved in with her she made space in her studio for you to do any kind of artwork because she wants to spend any kind of time even if she was too busy yelling at her models and artists

she may not always have her listening ears on but whenever you say something that catches her interest she'll respond (she'll remember bits of other things you say, she doesn't tune you out, she just cherry picks her responses)

She doesn't mind the plushie collection as long as there is room for her to cuddle with you. if not they are banished to the shelf.... maybe a couple on the bed.

she loves to dress you up in whatever is the latest fashion or even your preferred. she'd match in any way at any moment.

she will tease and bully at any moment but it's her love and she never means it. plus there is plenty of compliments that cancels it out.

idk why but you know how people like to have their oc's with horns have jewelry on them and even chains that connect? she'd find that so cute and would make some in different styles (like a bracelet for the day)

"Velv-"

"Can you BELIEVE the nerve of these ladies! Prancing around like their ideas are any good! Wrist ruffles? Fifty layers? What are we? Doing a fuckin' blast to the past!" Velvette kept ranting on about her workers before you rolled her eyes.

"You're about to get a blast from the past if you don't get off my table. I was working." You gave her a deadpan look.

She gave you the middle finger before scooting you over on YOUR chair as you worked.

"Well, babe, I have no clue why they would think that is fashion? I mean, things from the past making a comeback? Neverrrr-"

"I know-! Oh Fuck You!"

#hh matchup #hazbin hotel matchup #hazbin hotel matchups #velvette x reader #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel x reader

[yourprobnowdumdum]

I've been too busy to draw so time to say a few hc's for my old men (this is mainly pre relationship stuff bc Rick is such an ass here)

Rick ends up rebooting Rickbot because he's busy searching for Prime now, so there's not much personal time to get shit done. Whether that's little home repairs or his own personal tasks that Morty throws a fit about doing, Rick realizes "awww fuck" and starts this stupid robot piece of shit up again

Even before Christmas, Rickbot would go down to level 10 to check on Rick. It's small talk that Rickbot finds goes nowhere bc Rick doesn't care to engage other than grunts and then finally ending with 'aren't you supposed to be upstairs :/'

These tiny visits would include Rickbot bringing down plates of leftovers from dinner bc 'no Rick, a granola bar and a dozen cans of alien redbull with Adderall isn't a meal and when is the last time you slept what the fuck-'

Rickbot and Morty are getting along. Rick fucking hates this, especially at the start of Rickbot joining back into the family unit. He's jealous. One scenario: they go and get ice cream or whatever. Rickbot and Morty are having a damn blast talking something or other, so Rick acts like a baby and is totally rude about it. I mean, he purposely gets between them like "Hey how about you go do something useful and pull the car around, I need to get something from this store" and drags Morty with him after tossing the keys at Rickbot.

Rick would ignore Rickbot in the beginning and act like he's just 'the help'. It would have to take them actually getting to conversing without something going on at the same time. Maybe they actually watch interdimensional cable together and make fun of it together. It's obviously not much but it gets that knot loosened a tad.

Rickbot would offer to help Rick with the search for Prime once they start being more friendlier. Mainly because he doesn't feel like Morty needs to be getting involved in something like this, and seeing how they're the same person, it may do good to have highly intellectual minds work together. Morty's still going to try and squeeze in though.

Bot gets very irritable when Rick is rude to Morty or anyone else like "Hey buddy hey pal knock that shit off"

He's definitely got a good chance with doing *something* because he's Rick and no one knows Rick from the inside and out like himself. Rickbot knows what gets on his nerves, what makes him sad, what makes him happy. But God damn is it work but Rickbot's willing to do it

their relationship is the physical form of someone who knows they need to be better and healthier, but they're scared to bc of how often they've been fucked over in the past so they fight every urge to be nice to themselves.

#If there's terrible spelling or grammar I'm sorry but I sped wrote this on my break #rambles #Rick x Rickbot

[winderlylandchime]

2/3 ‘POOR SUNSHINE? DEB SUNSHINE IS THE ONE THAT *CHEATED* AND YOU OUT OF EVERYONE HERE KNOWS THAT BRIAN LOVES HIM WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK JUST HAPPENED? Did I hallucinate that episode where Brian was all hot in that green light? thank you linds- HE SHOULDVE SHOWED IT? Fuck you Debbie, fuck you. You know! And you clearly know that Justin cheated but you don’t care? I THOUGHT SHE CARED ABOUT BRIAN?! Does no one care about him except me?! Fuck you too Ted. BRI!!! I AM YOUR REAL FRIEND! I DEFENDED YOU THE ENTIRE TIME! Oh look it’s cheater! BRIAN DONT SHOW HIM YOU CARE! Fuck all of you!..okay Mikey, maybe that’s a bit much..is that why he got punched?’ He is so stressed that he genuinely looks like he’s two seconds away from a stroke ‘oh no Bri Bri is home. Is this his first time coming to an empty loft since the prom? OH he knows Justin was here, what is he holding, is that Justins? If he holds it to himself like in Brokeback mountain, I’m killing myself. Oh you sweet poor baby, it’s okay, you still have me. OH NOT THE DRAWING! Good for you Bri Bri. But damn that hurts.. OH MY GOD HE TALKS ABOUT IT WITH LINDSAY?! SO HE WENT TO HER AND IS JUST POURING HIS HEART OUT? *NEVER* beg! (Linds says she saw it coming) Oh did ya? I fucking wonder why? No wonder he found someone else? (My name) can you play the episodes where she gets cheated on and how Bri reacted to it? You know who says shit like that? Horrible bitter evil people! (Lindsay says bri can get justin back) but people have the right to change and i always admired that about them! YOU NEVER LOVED HIM? that’s because you still love him. (Brian says hed never ask him to be something he isnt) this motherfucker would burn down the house with him still inside it if it meant everyone else got to be okay and happy.‘ ‘Debbie is about to beat Michaels ass! Why doesn’t she ever defend Brian?! FUCK YOU DEBBIE! EVERYTHING BUT LOVE HIM? IT WAS YOU WHO GOT HIM TO ADMIT IT! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?! HE CANT LOVE ANYBODY?! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU ALL! Each one of you is a horrible friend!’ He is once again outside smoking while walking up and down the yard. ‘Oh absolutely not! You are not bringing Ethan to a party that everyone else is at! FUCK YOU MEL! Literally everyone hates Brian. Fuck you all selfish assholes’ ‘i love Emmett and Ted as friends! I’ll like them as a couple if this dynamic doesn’t change.’ ‘BRIAN! he is miserable alone, isn’t he? YES BEN! HE NEEDS SOMEONE! FINALLY SOMEONE UNDERSTANDS IT! Ben there is still hope for you!’ ‘Bri, doesn’t look good. He literally looks like he’s about to drop dead. And people dare to say he’s okay? All this is showing me is that they all suck as friends….*he winced and i was about to ask if he’s okay* oh dancing isn’t their thing, huh? or do they suck on purpose because he’s drugged up?’ Said with the biggest smile on his face ‘oh i forgot Mikey gets punched’ ‘can you take me to a gay bar? It looks fun and i think I would make a lot of friends. I think I’m fun- OH IS BRIAN GONNA GO? (The cringe scene with Debbie/Ethan/Justin happens) Why is he following Justin around? He is literally not even a step behind? That’s embarrassing. Go to hell. Dude just stay where you are. Or better yet, leave. YOU DO NOT HAVE THE RIGHT OR PRIVILEGE TO SAY SUNSHINE! NO HE IS NOT ADORABLE! No offense to the actor, I’m sure he’s nice but HE IS NOT ADORABLE. OH MY GOD ITS BRIAN! What is wrong with Mel? She fucking invited him. Man fuck her. She makes it difficult to like her. *pauses ep* sorry, he just reminded me that I too have to go to the bathroom’ He is making this 45 minute ep last way longer than needed because he keeps pausing it to make an ‘ughhh’ sound whenever someone other than Brian is on screen. ‘OH MY GOD JUSTIN AND BRI! Are they for real gonna pee together? JUSTIN HE JUST TOLD YOU TO WASH YOUR HANDS! *said like Eric in Sex Ed* DIRTY PIG! (brian says thee line) *pauses tv on him and walks up to it* THIS *waves his hands all over Brian* is killing me! He looks sad! And telling him he hopes he gets what he wants? FUCK! he wants you, dont think otherwise!’

Oh yes, the beginning of S3 when Team Brian needs to be extra fucking protective because nobody but Michael (ugh) is taking Brian’s side. To the extent they have sides (I feel like Brian especially is not interested in “sides”). They both fucked up and no one sees it.

“this motherfucker would burn down the house with him still inside it if it meant everyone else got to be okay and happy.” HE REALLY AND TRULY GETS BRIAN KINNEY

Ohhh the ill-fated Ted/Emmett relationship. I’ll be curious as to his thoughts as this progresses and unfolds.

Can you take me to a gay bar? I love your brother. I think the entire fandom wants to take him to a gay bar.

And yes that bathroom scene is so heartbreaking. Brian is devastated but just wants Justin to be happy…

#ask winderlylandchime #dear sweet anon #queer as folk #a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023

[bvlgae]

"I hate you!"

He's acting his age and he knows it. At least he has that much of an excuse. His eyes sting. Tears are welling up, threatening to spill over, to draw glistening streaks over his cheeks. Sephiroth balls up his fists instead, wills the tears not to fall because that's the last gods damned thing he needs. And what he needs right now is to hang onto his anger.

Somehow, he thought he'd be used to it by now. Nothing but a muzzled pet, a prized science fair project, or a show horse paraded around for a crooning audience. Not a person. Not someone to anybody.

All those life lessons, the wrinkles at the corner of Ravus's eyes when he narrated over a new story and Sephiroth laughed along with it, cuddling by firelight on cold nights, discarded candy wrappers, and counting shooting stars. That wasn't for him.

Why can't he just be? Why can't people just let him exist for who he is? To see him and not something or someone else?

The signs were there. He had chosen to ignore them for so long. Whenever Ravus looked at him out of the corner of his eye or when the other man ruffled his hair...He wasn't seeing Sephiroth, but Lunafreya.

Pinpointing the exact moment he figured out what was happening seems impossible. Hearing Ravus stumble over Lunafreya's name, openly confusing memory for reality...that hurt too much to describe.

Sephiroth tries to leave, to turn away and fight his way through the shrubbery clawing at his legs because he knows he can't stop the tears now. They run hot, like little flames burning all the way down until they drip off the end of his chin.

"You miss her so bad-- you should go find her then! What the hell are you doing with me?! Just leave me alone. I don't need you. I don't need anybody."

It was a mistake, he knows. But his attempt at explaining his error is cut short, by three words that manage to wound him deeper than any sword or stray bullet.

The boy doesn't mean it. He couldn't.

...did he?

"Wait, you're only going to hurt yourself-" he tries to keep his tone steady, not raising volume or casting an edge to it, nothing that can be further misconstrued.

As much as it hurts, Sephiroth's emotions were more important to him. He wanted- No, needed to set this right.

"I misspoke. You've seen me get confused before- Disassociate from the present. That's all it was."

Perhaps a weak excuse, but there was truth to it.

Of course he missed her. How couldn't he? How could he ever disrespect or think ill of Lunafreya after what he did.

"She's... dead, Seph. And I've known, for a long time, that she's never coming back. No one could ever replace the void left in my heart that she once occupied. The same way that no one could ever replace you."

How could he describe it in words that didn't sound paltry in comparison to what he felt? If he couldn't retain his pride, he could at least retain what little humanity he had left. Maybe it was too late for even that.

"All I had to ground me for years was revenge. They tell you sometimes it's better to just forget- How could I forget? How could I forgive? To me, forgiveness was something that could only be given by those who still had something to begin with. You know that when it gets tough like that, it's going to turn ugly. I thought that I didn't care how low I sunk, how far gone I'd be, but it's different now. Everything's different. I hated it at first, but fuck it- I've been working for a long time and I haven't done much with the earnings. You want to leave? You want to disappear, we can do that. You wanted to go to Costa del Sol? Hell, we'll do that too- Buy a bed with feathers stuffed into it and everything, no keeping our backs to the wall, no sleeping with one eye open anymore. Just those fruity drinks with stupid, tiny umbrellas and miles of nothing but ocean."

They'd done enough killing, it was time to start living.

#serafim #♘ You Will Not Go Astray [IC] #AHA HA HA REVERSE UNO CARD SORTA #YOU WANTED SAD AND ANGSTY BUT I GAVE YOU UH... THE OPPOSITE OF THAT #✦ I KNOW THAT SPADES ARE THE SWORDS OF A SOLDIER [MERCENARY] #I NEED MORE COFFEEEEEE that took a lot out of me

[k1nky-fool]

“You may take your son home, Mrs. Talis, but he is never to set foot on academy grounds again.” Heimerdinger finalized, adjourning the meeting, and letting the daylight fill the hall once again.

Lady Talis left with her son fast so as not to draw any unwanted comments from any of the councilors or anyone else in the hall.

But there was something else of vital importance that Devo would be damned if she let pass by. Viktor was about to head off, but she caught his wrist before he got away from her. She saw the look on his face, and it would kill her if he let something as small as the council’s choice smother the passion she’d seen in him.

When he turned to her, he waited patiently for her to say something, but there weren’t enough words in the world for her to explain what she was thinking. She likely wouldn’t have enough time to try to figure it out, so she settled on trusting him to take matters into his own hands.

“Do it.” Devo blurted to him quietly to not alert anyone to what she was suggesting. “Whatever it is you’re thinking, do it.”

“Devo, I might be the one on trial next.” He insisted.

“As if you’ve ever asked for permission.” She scoffed. “Do it, Viktor. You’ll never get another chance.”

There was another expression he gave that Devo couldn’t quite place. It was familiar too. Like that night he found her creating a star map in the library, or like when he watched her earnestly observing the objects of her own obsession. He looked like he wanted to say something, but like now he couldn’t find the words.

“Devoan,” Grayson’s voice startled her and she had no choice but to turn around. “A word.”

She gave a look back to Viktor, noting that the spark in his eyes was back. Grayson pulled her aside to a secluded corner.

“Something I should know about him?” Grayson asked.

“Other than he owes me a date, nothing comes to mind.” Devo said, making Grayson chuckle a little. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to apologize to you.” Grayson said, “I know Marcus has caused problems for you before. I wanted to let you know it’s not because I don’t see it.”

It was certainly a surprise. Not that Grayson had never apologized before, but never against Marcus. Usually she gave unconvincing defenses of his work. “Grayson, I want to believe he’s just got a massive learning curve ahead of him, but either he needs to get over it fast, or the next time he goes into the undercity, he’s getting eaten alive. I want him to learn his lesson, and I’m sure you’d rather he survive it.”

She seemed to agree. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that it’s getting dicey with the undercity. I’m trying to hold everything together, but I might not be able to.”

It's 492 it counts give me that god damn dvd commentary

ooooo you found a good one. I have a lot of different parts of Devo's character that I place as foreshadowing for later moments and later stories, and you just found a big one.

So, you know how people say "I can fix him" or "I can make him worse" about men? Well, Devo doesn't really care for DIY projects. She kinda just wants to look over his shoulder and watch him fuck things up himself.

When I characterize these moments with Devo, where she sees that spark of obsession, she herself becomes obsessed with it. If you are looking for someone to talk you out of doing something, Devo is not the person to go to.

Especially with Viktor, she sees that he has taken an interest in it, and his curiosity has gotten the better of him, and she knows what that obsession feels like. She knows how exciting it is, and I thought the best way to illustrate that was with Devo maybe looking like she's enabling that obsession.

Devo loves to see her friends succeed and become frantic with excitement. To her, its like seeing stars for the first time. When I write these moments where Devo becomes so wrapped up in Viktor, and when she pushes him to do the risky or ridiculous thing, I'm really trying to set up the moment where she realizes that she has fallen in love with him.

Now, with Grayson mentioning that she knows Marcus is a problem, and that she might not be able to smooth things over with the undercity, I'm definitely trying to set up Devo's reaction to her death, and the problems that Marcus is going to bring as the new Sheriff. But in a way, I'm using this conversation with Grayson as Second hand foreshadowing for Marcus and Devo's shift in dynamic.

Marcus is a very deep and complex character, and I look forward to writing more of him in the future. Both in Fuck Around and Find Out and other projects. We usually see Marcus characterized by his fear and guilt. I definitely plan to use a bit of fear and guilt for him in FAFO, but I'm trying something different with him in another piece that's coming together slowly.

#arcane oc #arcane #arcane fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor x reader #arcane viktor #fanfic ask game

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #091

(taken december 18th last year; uploading surveys taken while gone)

Have you ever shared a house with a significant other? Not legally, but I stayed in that apartment way, way too regularly to be considered a "guest" by that point.

How are you feeling today? Happy, sad, or anything else? I am super fucking at peace, Girt stayed last night and the one before that and it was great. Roman and Cookie both slept with us, and it was just a sound, cozy night. I woke up when he did with his alarms to go to work and we were both super cuddly and it was just cute. After work he comes straight back here to stay again, and I am ACTUALLY considering trying to make dinner out of something for us so I can feel like a proper adult and helpful partner. Idc, I wanna do something nice and adult-y.

Who was the last person that made you upset? What did they do? I am FULL prefacing this with the fact this was dumb as shit and I was absolutely being a brat, but I got frustrated I wanna say three nights ago when I was venting the tiniest bit to Girt and he took 'til like, midnight, when I was asleep, to reply. It's embarrassing to even share, like holy shit he has a life and responsibilities and also free time and such. He proves a million times over he cares and is absolutely always there for me, that night just sucked so pretty much everything was hurting me.

Do you have a crush on anyone? Tell me about them. "Crush" doesn't even begin to cover it. Been there for me consistently more than any friend I have ever, and I do mean ever, had. He's never lost faith that I can do great things and conquer what I'm afraid of. He makes me cry from laughing when I don't even want to smile. I feel like I can tell him pretty damn much anything. He's genuinely the most doting boyfriend ever and besides probably my mom of course, my biggest fan there is; he will hype me the fuck up over anything and supports me endlessly. He really appreciates and values my advice and opinions. He SOMEHOW acts entirely unashamed of me. I need to stop, I am too fucking emotional lately and am crying/fighting not to sob lmao jesus, he's just great.

Have you ever had something signed by someone famous? What and who? No but bitch I wish, there are some signatures I would frame lmao

Have you made out with anyone in the last 2 weeks? Yeah.

Have you shaved your legs in the past three days? No. I want laser hair removal on my legs so fucking bad, my legs humiliate me but for multiple reasons regularly shaving them just is not reasonable, or maybe even not possible right now.

Does anyone hate you? Probably. Quite sure there are people who do.

What bugs you about the last person you dated? She is, honestly, one of the biggest liars I have ever met, and has been SINCE we met. Among other things.

Have you ever felt replaced? Oh yes.

Have you ever played a drinking game? Which ones? No.

Did you ever play Neopets when you were younger? Oh yes, I was obsessed. Honestly, it started my computer addiction, I'm pretty sure. Omg I actually recently saw this tattoo featuring a sick tiger Neopet with the quote "we are all God's Neopets, and he forgot the password" and BOY I fucking CONSIDERED lmfao

Do you regularly check anyone’s profile online? Nope.

Have your parents ever worked in medicine? My mom was a pharmacy tech for quite a while.

Do you have any silly nicknames or pet names? I guess "Twinkie," which is the nickname my mom has used for me since I was a baby; she gave all her kids sweets nicknames, lol.

Are you any good at drawing? I guess, wish I was better though.

Is there anything unusual about your house? Uh I don't believe so.

Do you find it hard to talk to strangers, even people who work in stores? Yes, to such a debilitating degree that it has majorly affected my ability to work/find work I can function through.

How many wigs do you own? Zero.

Are your maternal/parental instincts strong? No, but more than they once were; I've helped my mom babysit my nieces and nephew so much that I guess they just naturally started to grow. Like I DO know I get way more upset when a baby cries than in the past, especially if they ARE my niece/nephew, like I get this desperate urge to fix whatever's wrong and I really feel like my heart hurts. It's weird, historically I've had stronger maternal-ish (major emphasis on "ish," don't make this weird) protection instincts over s/os, I've found especially if they're sick.

Do you feel confident in your body image? My self-confidence is in the fucking negatives and it's been getting to me even more than usual (which is already severely) the past few days.

Do you like country music? I hate it. In very rare instances, I'll hear a song I enjoy, but in general? I cannot stand it.

What was the last essay you remember writing about? Toxic masculinity. I wish I still had access to it, it was probably one of my favorite academic things I have ever written. My teacher loved it and used it as the example piece the following semester.

In your dream kitchen, would the worktops be marble or steel? Marble.

Who is considered the “black sheep” of your family? Why? Me. I am pretty starkly different from the general vibe and interests of my family.

What’s something you’re so good at that you take pride in your skill? I'm genuinely proud of my writing.

What’s the worst/best thing you’ve done without your parents knowing? My mom would probably kill me if she knew certain places I "did things" as a teen lmfao. Best, uhhhh... that's hard dude, my mom knows so, so, so much. I'm stumped enough to give in and also say the same things that qualified for "worst" kms 🥴

What’s a random funny scene from a movie that has stuck with you? Honestly a lot from White Chicks, that movie is so fucking memeable and I love it.

Would you date someone who still lived with their parents? I do that now, so yes. Although in Girt's situation, it's for his mom versus she housing him; she has mental health problems and couldn't work for many years, so she came back to Girt all the way from like Indiana or something and stayed with him because he's a fucking saint. He's basically run the place for he and Shelia for many years on his own, but she's now had a stable job for maybe like a year now and he's very READY to move out, the housing market is just so wordlessly insane right now that doing so is very unreasonable, so for right now they stay together.

Would you have to sleep with someone before marrying them? No.

Do you think there is life on other planets? In some form, absolutely. It's like, impossible for us to be the ONLY life-sustaining planet in an infinite space.

Would you enjoy a night of playing video games? Hell yeah, those with Girt are the absolute best.

Would you watch a porno with your partner? No, porn grosses me out personally. I don't want to see two totally random people going at each other. I would get absolutely nothing but a disgust reaction from that. It's totally fine if others are into it (just not to an addiction level obviously, that's problematic), I'm just not.

Do you like gummy candy? Yeah, it's a texture I like more than most others.

Do you know what the person you have feelings for is doing at this moment? He's at work.

How many brothers does your father have? I'm quite sure he has none, or he just hasn't talked about him like, at all.

Are any of your relatives vets? Not that I know of.

Who cleans the most in your house? My mom.

Do you have any current or past teachers on your facebook friends? Quite a lot, and I doubt they're happy with me. 🥴

Have you ever seen the last person you kissed cry? No.

Do your parents vote? I know Mom does, idk about Dad.

Who's the most romantic person you ever went out with? Jason.

How would you react if your best friend was pregnant/got someone pregnant? That would be Girt so that would be a VERY quick breakup if it wasn't me. If it was me, I'd be fucking devastated, terrified, and get an abortion as absolutely soon as possible.

Have you ever seen the last person you kissed dressed up fancy? Possibly in high school on his senior picture day, but I don't remember it.

Did you have a dream last night? No, last night's sleep was totally peaceful.

What’s something you’ve always wanted to say to your ex? I haven't *always* wanted to say it, but for years now I've just wanted to tell him I'm so sorry.

What would you do if you saw a guy hit a girl? My VERY strong instinct says that I would absolutely storm over to them and deck him dead in the face. I very literally think I would. And then call the cops.

What is the last state you were in besides your own? Virginia.

What two breeds of dog do you think would make a really great puppy? Maybe like... an akita and chow-chow. I looked it up and apparently they're legit and I'm in love.

Who is the best person you’ve ever “met” online? That's too hard. I have met THE greatest people through the Internet.

Describe your elementary school in 10 words or less. Very invested in their students, extremely friendly, bright, fun.

What is the greatest kids’ show ever and why? Okay don't judge but when I'm watching my niece with Mom, she LOVES the show Bluey, and honestly it is absolutely adorable and shows you such an ideal but also realistic picture of a good, honest, just picturesque family.

The best album ever made is ______ because _________: Ozzy's Black Rain because you skip NO song. EVERY single one fucking slaps.

Did you ever see a scorpion in the wild? No, they're not native here.

What is the newest thing you’ve learned? Two nights back at Girt's, we were talking about their old dog Charlotte and how much she fucking adored Donald; both Ashley and Shelia said that she did not just love him, that dog was in love with him. Apparently Charlotte's ashes were buried next to Donald because that's what both would have wanted. ;___;

Name a state you have never been to, but would like to go to. Arizona, probably surprisingly. There is a number of native animals there I would REALLY like to see.

Name a word that people use locally that outsiders probably can’t pronounce. Conetoe. You said it wrong.

Describe your world in 5 words. CONFUSING, stressful, poetic (not in all ways, but I'd say definitely in many), melancholy, but mine and one of a goddamn kind so I'll take it.

What time did you go to bed last night? Uh it was before 12. We played Jackbox Party Pack games for a few hours with some of his online buds, but he also tried excruciatingly spicy ramen, more than he should've because the psycho didn't wanna waste it but also to "build up [his] heat tolerance" and I was like BUT WHY?????? is that necessary????? Thankfully he knew I was right so didn't finish it and then he just wanted to go to bed lmao, he felt like shit.

Who did you last ride in a car with? Girt. Bless him, it's a 30 minute drive to his place and he was BELTIN shit which I usually don't mind at all, but between driving to his place and back, I got such a bad headache lol.

Are you currently heart broken? No, my heart is fuller than it normally is.

Do you know how to change a diaper? I mean, to be completely realistic I could probably figure it out, but immediately? No. I have changed ONE diaper in my entire life and never will again (and that one wasn't even very dirty).

Would you be tazed for a million bucks? Yes.

What is the most annoying thing that your parents do? My mom is always 100% certain she's right. Disagreeing is disrespect. My dad can be weird and sometimes rude to people, and he has no concept of "there are people who can hear you other than me" in public.

Do you completely trust the person you’re dating? Yes.

When was the last time you received a hug? Who was this hug from? This morning, Girt.

Are you one of those people who like The Nightmare Before Christmas? I do, but nowhere near obsessively or even as much as people seem to think I do. The movie is fine, but it's nothing amazing, honestly. Coincidentally, both my phone's lock and home screen are scenes from the movie, lol. Just for the holiday.

What is your favourite type of nut? Idk, I really don't like nuts very much. I guess cashews, I can handle them fine in like, nut/grain/etc. bars.

Where did you eat the best pizza you’ve ever eaten in your life? Guys I am not fucking kidding, it was literally at an indoor trampoline park sort of place that hosts parties, lmao. We went there for Girt's nephew's party, and that pizza, everything about it, was BOMB.

Did you ever watch The Rugrats when you were a kid? Oh yes, loved it.

Do you know anyone who smokes in their car? Dad and Kim.

#survey #surveys #random questions #personal questions

[baekhvuns]

True, Olivia x Helena - what a great duo. Ohhh where did your friend met Sebastian, did they talk? I saw him on a motorcycle in London once, hahaha

Omg, The Interview... not this movie 😭 does your uni has any dark secrets then? 👀

Advice wasn't 3 years ago, but the time is running so fast I'm constantly confused. Like wdym it's almost the end of 2022...

Some people say "it's their money they can do what they want" well yeah, though sometimes I question if it's really THEIR money not their parents, because wtf??? But those stans must be so fucking bored to fly everywhere? So no job, no school? Tbh I would be too fucking tired, I love Ateez but no way I'm travelling around the world for two months just to see them. Same with fan signs/calls, just let it gooooo at some point. 😭 Most of those fans might not be dangerous, but you can't convince me this isn't some weird obsession 🤡 the urge to block, especially a few Hwa biased fans kshdjsysjsuskshwu, but I wanna see the man - the struggle 💔

You're right, I HATE the concealed lips trend so much

Baeksussy back at it, I won't trust you again 🔪 Wolf Girl and Black Prince is controversial, but some people love it and I'm like??? It's not even dumb, entertaining fun, it's just awful. I only bothered because the guy looked good, but his personality? TRASH. And Erica... girl, have you no shame. Brother's Conflict I- yeah remember, who allowed it?! The guys were pretty tho

I read the latest installment of Campus Affair and SJ is also giving DUMB. I CANNOT WITH HIM 😭 is there nothing behind that forehead??? Damn I need to catch up on the Harem. Tbh the character doesn't need to be black-haired, I can envision Hwa in every hair colour basically

I think BBC was shocked that someone as cheerful and nice as Chuu decided to stand up for herself. Ooooh I hope all the members can get away from that company (I think Vivi can't because she's a foreigner and would have to leave Korea </3), but not BBC denying it ofc lmao. I also hope Omega X wins their case and comes back soon.

Yes the chest, the Hwaboobs need to be covered too

I almost thought Spain x Germany would end in 0:0, hshahsiagshsha it was still a draw, but wtfffff. I could never take Neymar seriously, I know he has his moments, but I can't stand him and his shitty acting, he learnt all the tricks in Barca lmaooo 💀 this guy did a Neymar. ??? Yes, Tottenham players are doing well, can't deny it.....

I don't follow WayV's music, but I always see their questionable or loser behaviour, especially Yangyang 💀 but I felt that video actually, it happened to me

I need Soohyuk's sweater and I need Seonghwa in his sweater 🤗

I tried to find the best tier list, but all of them were missing something. My friend said she actually started making her own list a few months ago, sooooo maybe we will help her 👀 BESTIE THE HOLIDAY THAT LOW NOOOOOOO. Wait you didn't see Love, Rosie?! :o you must see it IMMEDIATELY. Here is mine

Stop because when Seonghwa dropped THE pool photos I instantly thought of that tenelka fic

WHITE HAIRED HWA IN THE JAPANESE MV LET'S GO LET'S DIE

That's what I said when they announced SuperM, no Changmin but Lookass?! Be serious 🔫

THE 2ND ONE I'M GONNA KMS!!!

I'm afraid about Seonghwa's and Mingi's hair, please please please no scissors 😭😭😭😭 and I don't wanna say goodbye to blonde Hwa either 💔💔💔💔

DO NOT SAY THAT TO ME I'M THE STEALER

Very true <3 I'm crying lol

WHAT THE FUCKKKKK. Seonghwa's a cutie though

.......... If I saw him outside my window I'd have jumped - DV 💖

hi hello!!!

True, Olivia x Helena - what a great duo. Ohhh where did your friend met Sebastian, did they talk? I saw him on a motorcycle in London once, hahaha

i need them to play like a fairy god mother vs the ‘evil fairy god other” I NEED THEM ON A DISNEY FILM !!!! they didn’t! the rush hour was too much but my friend momentarily froze bC JUST RANDOMLY?? we do not see anyone else but our canadian mascot ryan reynolds here so it was quite a surprise fhdbd AYOO??

Omg, The Interview... not this movie 😭 does your uni has any dark secrets then? 👀

LMFAOOOO YEAH THAT MOVIE 😭😭😭 seth rogan made my uni mad it was a whole fiasco fhsbshd,,, u know what i do know if they do but it is a creepy uni,, the most dark secret i know is that there’s a avocado statue in the uni garden <3 lights up as well <3 fbwndh

Advice wasn't 3 years ago, but the time is running so fast I'm constantly confused. Like wdym it's almost the end of 2022...

no bc why did november skim past so fast??? it was oct 31st like yesterday and now it’s snowing and dec 1st???? wHAAAT??? time is a simulation

Some people say "it's their money they can do what they want" well yeah, though sometimes I question if it's really THEIR money not their parents, because wtf??? But those stans must be so fucking bored to fly everywhere? So no job, no school? Tbh I would be too fucking tired, I love Ateez but no way I'm travelling around the world for two months just to see them. Same with fan signs/calls, just let it gooooo at some point. 😭 Most of those fans might not be dangerous, but you can't convince me this isn't some weird obsession 🤡 the urge to block, especially a few Hwa biased fans kshdjsysjsuskshwu, but I wanna see the man - the struggle 💔

NO BC EVEN IF IT IS THEIR MONEY,,, don’t u get bored seeing the same idols again? like isnt it inconvenient to sit on a plane and travel 7 seas away to attend a 1 hour fansign jetlagged completely??? no school, no job??? just vibes??? NO BC IS IT NOT TIRING TO WANNA TRAVEL WITH THEM REPEATEDLY??? “but you can't convince me this isn't some weird obsession” no u are correct, i get that they wanna travel just bc “yolo” but come on bro spending 400$+ on tickets for 2 months at idk 12 shows??? is it not tiring like id be physically exhausted at the second day of the concert, like ive seen this exact setlist yesterday why do i wanna see it for 2 more months 🤨 FBANDHWK SOFTBLOCKING THE FANSITES

You're right, I HATE the concealed lips trend so much

no like, we’re not gonna kiss it??? why are u hiding them??? it’s the bronzer and the concealer im about to fire this makeup artist 🔫

Baeksussy back at it, I won't trust you again 🔪 Wolf Girl and Black Prince is controversial, but some people love it and I'm like??? It's not even dumb, entertaining fun, it's just awful. I only bothered because the guy looked good, but his personality? TRASH. And Erica... girl, have you no shame. Brother's Conflict I- yeah remember, who allowed it?! The guys were pretty tho

LMFAOOOO 😭😭 no bc it had POTENTIAL but it was executed terribly tbh,, YOURE RIGHT HIS PERSONALITY WAS TRASH THEY WANTED TO MAKE HIM SEEM LIKE A USUI 2.0 BUT FAILED AT IT SO BAD,,,see the red haired one in brothers conflict, do u rmr subaru i-

I read the latest installment of Campus Affair and SJ is also giving DUMB. I CANNOT WITH HIM 😭 is there nothing behind that forehead??? Damn I need to catch up on the Harem. Tbh the character doesn't need to be black-haired, I can envision Hwa in every hair colour basically

FBWNDHWJ IM NOT THERE YET BUT THEYRE ALL SO DUMB 😭😭😭 NOTHING BEHIND THE FOREHEAD STOP IM GONNA USE THIS AS A DIALOGUE IN THTIS YUNHO FUC FBENFHEJ ,,, i also have it catches up on harem ever since that webtoon update about free passes each day like MF i can’t even read nothing???,,, ur absolutely correct, he is red haired hwa <3 but im sorry this. this guy right here.

I think BBC was shocked that someone as cheerful and nice as Chuu decided to stand up for herself. Ooooh I hope all the members can get away from that company (I think Vivi can't because she's a foreigner and would have to leave Korea </3), but not BBC denying it ofc lmao. I also hope Omega X wins their case and comes back soon.

YEAH!! the way they keep denying everything and jtbc calling them out on it fbdbd,, bc chuu’s so loved globally hopefully she doesn’t get blacklisted like a certain someone! vivi and hyunjin, hopefully vivi’s working with the visa issues before terminating! i hope so too! have a lot of evidence and hopefully they win!!

Yes the chest, the Hwaboobs need to be covered too

hwaboobs and sooboobs. need them both in a room, covered.

I almost thought Spain x Germany would end in 0:0, hshahsiagshsha it was still a draw, but wtfffff. I could never take Neymar seriously, I know he has his moments, but I can't stand him and his shitty acting, he learnt all the tricks in Barca lmaooo 💀 this guy did a Neymar. ??? Yes, Tottenham players are doing well, can't deny it.....

NO BC GERMANY IS NOT HERE TO LOSE,, seriously the teams this year are so unpredictably good <3 i keep laughing at how the guy from the saudi team got touched and he rolled over and fell 😭😭 mf how dramatic are u 😭🤚🏼 he deserves a rolls royce for that acting fbsnd,, LMFAOOOO neymar is so jokes STOP FBWKDHWK HES IN HIS NEYMAR ERA COMEON MAN LEARN FROM HIM,, he pretend to be hurt every match and now he is! LEARN 😭😭 ngl sk was robbed of a goal 🤚🏼

I don't follow WayV's music, but I always see their questionable or loser behaviour, especially Yangyang 💀 but I felt that video actually, it happened to me

wayv is so questionable sometimes i forget they’re a group bc they act like a walking talking sitcom,,, and yangyang,, why’s he always set up like that, breathing hard and groaning over a TAP FBWKDJAK

I need Soohyuk's sweater and I need Seonghwa in his sweater 🤗

im about to make soohyuk hwa’s father in the next fic, i can’t take this resemblance anymore every time. i just see him and go “so that’s what dilf seonghwa would look like, huh”

I tried to find the best tier list, but all of them were missing something. My friend said she actually started making her own list a few months ago, sooooo maybe we will help her 👀 BESTIE THE HOLIDAY THAT LOW NOOOOOOO. Wait you didn't see Love, Rosie?! :o you must see it IMMEDIATELY. Here is mine

SEND OVER THAT LIST ASAAAPPP BESTIES FRIEND!!! SAVE US,, lOOK HEAR ME OUT I DIDNT EVEN WATCH IT PROPERLY OKAY WHEN I DID IT WAS A MESS AND IT LEFT THAT IMPRESSION ON ME,, ILL REWATCH IT ONE DAY,, AND EXUSE ME WHY IS 5 YEAR ENGAGEMENT SO LOW ON UR CHART 🔫🔫 WHAT IS THIS BLASPHEMY

Stop because when Seonghwa dropped THE pool photos I instantly thought of that tenelka fic

no bc is this not… AD..

WHITE HAIRED HWA IN THE JAPANESE MV LET'S GO LET'S DIE //// That's what I said when they announced SuperM, no Changmin but Lookass?! Be serious 🔫

BETSIE WHAT IS THIS MV I HAVE NOT STOPPED SCREAMING !!!! no srs??! changmin would’ve been the best top tier addition to superm! his vocals and his dynamic with everyone would just been so much better!

THE 2ND ONE I'M GONNA KMS!!! /// I'm afraid about Seonghwa's and Mingi's hair, please please please no scissors 😭😭😭😭 and I don't wanna say goodbye to blonde Hwa either 💔💔💔💔

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT, FIRST THE LIP STAINS AND NOW THESE PC’S 😭😭 WHY DO THE JPN ALBUMS HAVE TO BE SO EXPENSIVE I WANT THIS FRAMED 😭😭😭 if the stylist comes near mingihwa or yeo,, im boycotting them 🔫

DO NOT SAY THAT TO ME I'M THE STEALER

DHWKDHKWDHKW HE SAID IT AGAIN WHAT IS THIS MAN DOING 😭😭 BAITING US

Very true <3 I'm crying lol //// WHAT THE FUCKKKKK. Seonghwa's a cutie though

omg stop it, his aura changes when he’s blond,,, idk if ive seen this before but after kai’s blond hair in monster ithought id never see an aura like that BUT seonghwa’s blond, every fucking type of it, im so in love. he’s so different with blond hair, it’s his fratboy calling actually

STOP I WAS ABOUT TO SEND THAT TO U

.......... If I saw him outside my window I'd have jumped - DV 💖

but uhhh anon is this not model hwa for a street magazine shoot. 🙂. I wOULD NOT LET GO OF THIS MAN bc what is this

anon 😭😭🤚🏼

mingi has joined the ysl line, i knew i could trust him, will be preparing a model mingi au

very surprising news, i dreamt about the guy who performed dreamers at fifa <3 first time. im, apparently, obsessed.

and exo finally exoing 😭🤚🏼 idk if u can see me crying

and i need to u do this. COMEON.

HE IS SO CUTE

#✉️ : ask #dv 💖 anon

[squirrel-the-adhd-mom]

Chapter 3- Uh oh… The fuck??

9/28/2022

Wednesday the 28th of September, the year is 2022. HUMP DAY. Or in my current state of mind fuck this day.

Waking up overstimulated. Why does this happen? I honestly don’t know why it does for others but for me it seems to be because I was sleeping incredibly well (everyone in the house was) and my alarm went off before my body was ready to wake up. This means that for the remainder of the day my normal triggers will be extra sensitive and things that normally don’t bother me probably will. Theme song for days like this is “Break Stuff” by Limp Bizkit.

Bugs. I do NOT like bugs. Specifically grasshoppers, moths, earwigs or other jumpy bugs. So you will laugh at me when I say panic set in after I felt something on my foot inside my shoe. Maybe a piece of lint? Don’t over think it Mikayla. Then I felt it again so I took my shoe off to remove it. Shoe off, looking down and to my surprise.. more like nearly my demise. A god damn EARWIG. Don’t scream Mikayla, don’t scream. Deep overstimulated breathes. I am still alive.

Easy does it, right? Maybe for some but lately it’s like calm and collected is the opposite of what my son needs to achieve the day. So I mentioned everyone slept really well! That meaning Theo too. So guess who also got woken up before he was ready? Yep, Theo. Which means this morning is going to be TOUGH. Think positive, Mikayla. That’s the only chance you’ve got. Calm and collected.

“Mom I want to wear shorts!”

“Okay! These are the two pairs you have that are clean.”

Instant whining, crying, pouting

“Mom, those do not fit they are for fat boys. I am not a fat boy.”

Brain: “where in the hell did he learn this statement?”

“No, Theo they are not. That’s how boys shorts fit and even if they are a little big there is a draw string!”

Screaming, yelling, fighting.

Okay, I left Theo to his devices again. After 30 minutes of temper tantrum he came down stairs in sweatpants. Mind you after throwing a fit because they were to hot. Lord help me. Deep breathes. He is dressed!

After dropping the kids off at school I am headed to drop the babies off at Brandis house. On the way the their I could sworn I heard Ryann (2) say “fuck.” I ignored it so it wouldn’t turn into anything and it didn’t. I just responded with “uh oh.” Kids man I swear they are little sponges. That being said I mentioned to me words are words. This is also how I parent because they word bitch, ass, fuck, shit or whatever wasn’t a swear word u til it was labeled one by someone else. There is a time a place for such words and this is what I teach my children also. I will be the first to tell you that sometimes, actually most of the time “frick” doesn’t even begin to cover the way I am feeling. So when my kids get home from a crappy day at school and they want to scream the f word in their room, so be it. I feel you kid. Not to mention there are so many positive uses of the words to, for example: “I had the best fucking day!” Or “I am a badass!” I could name many more more but you get the gist.

Wow. My Addi threatened somebody at school today… That is unheard of. It takes a lot for that little girl to get so mad that she threatens them. It was justified, sort of, and she felt terrible about it. I’m still just shocked. Well and a little proud that she stood up for her self. I may teach her “sticks and stone break my bones but words don’t hurt me” although I know words are hurtful, instead of “I am going to break your arms and legs.”

Currently I’m sitting on the side of the road waiting on our mechanic to bring me more straps. Because this load fucking sucks. I fell on my ass tightening these god damn straps and I am not going to get home till like 9pm at this point. FUCK.

9pm… I would’ve taken that. It’s 10 now and my wind down phase is barely started. Blah. You’ll probably hear me say this more than once but sometimes people truly SUCK. Today was one of those days. I got to location and the spot I had to lay my trusses was not that great. Mind you i was damn near 80 ft long tip to tail. The trusses themselves were 62 ft and I’d be damned if i was lucky enough to have a first time back in and a decent offload considering I don’t drive this truck but once a month anymore. Well you’ll be happy to know I am not damned and well backing in and offloading was nothing short of a nightmare. Not to mention the damn home owners showing up and panicking thinking I was going to break all their trusses. Alright tanto relax if one truss breast you still have 79 more that are still useable. Needless to say my blood was boiling ramming it into reverse trying like hell to get there to roll. It was NOT happening. So half of them fell off the wife thought I was going to run them over. RELAX people I know how to do my job. At this point I’m in boarder line tears right simply from being over stimulated. Mind you I don’t cry. When I cry something is wrong. Luckily no one was around to see that fuckery unfold and the truck was loud enough to muffle my screaming.

Kids were in bed when I got home so not much to report there. Happy to be in bed so I am going to try and let the shut down phase finish up so maybe, just maybe I can sleep. Goodnight.

#adhd brain #adult adhd #living with adhd #mom life #successful #trucknation #cdllife

[introspectionofaqueer]

just a glimpse

today, i finally had a little taste of what life might be like once this is over. i had just a glimpse of who i might be after its all said and done with. just a little tiny bit at a time its getting easier. each passing day just hurts slightly less than the previous. today i did a couple hours worth of yard work, something about it just feels so rewarding. then i went and got my check from my job that i no call no showed at which im proud of myself for doing, i thought i was gonna be too anxious to go through with showing my face in there. got 120 bucks though, im glad i went. i need all i can get right now, money do be kinda tight still. then i had dinner at texas roadhouse and ate so much fucking food i thought id burst. unfortunately while i was at the restaurant was probably the hardest part of my day, i had nothing but my moms company to distract me and when im with her id rather be in my head. but after i made it through that i came home and finally started stranger things season 4. my opinion so far, it seems like a totally different show. not in a bad way, its definitely cool. just definitely doesnt seem to connect to the other seasons, the flow is not as clear. maybe theyll make it all connect shit idk, im only on episode three. to end my evening ive been laying in bed practicing my ukulele and drawing, and it feels so nice to have a creative outlet. i honestly kind of hate commission work. it makes me feel pressured and constrained. my friend asked me if they could pay me to draw them a furry of themselves and i started on it but im stuck on the fucking hands and its making me so frustrated i havent touched the drawing in days. so ive been drawing other shit instead, but oh well...maybe ill get around to finishing it. when i was at the restaurant with my mom i did something i really am not proud of and have been trying to figure out why i reacted this way. they brought us 4 rolls and i had eaten two of them, precisely my half of the basket. my mom made a comment saying we needed more, and i said i was good. then she said something like , "you and samantha are always eating all of the bread and then wont ask for more." and i snapped back at her soooo fast and in a really defensive and angry tone, "I only ate two of them. thats literally half." i guess i dont like how shes always comparing me to my sister, i hate being lumped in with someone else who im nothing like. i want to be seen as my own individual, not the other version of her favorite child. i was also irritated that she was implying i ate "all of the bread" when i literally only ate my half. i just wish i had the ability to stop myself and think in situations and respond calmly and thoughtfully express my emotions instead of snapping back. at least the first step is awareness, and i know my defensiveness is something i need to work on. blame the aries in me, i guess. not saying thats an excuse but...could be an explanation. ive always had so much anger and frustration that it comes out at the slightest inconvenience. i dont know why im so angry. i guess i feel hurt by the world, resentful of my situation. i need to stop feeling and treating myself like a victim. ive always been so angry, that my parents sucked, that i got a chronic disease, that im not straight or cis, that i cant think or feel like neurotypical people. im so angry that ive always had to be an outsider. its not fair. i want to be accepted. why wont they accept me? havent i been through enough? i guess its never enough until you learn your lesson to get off your ass and stop pitying yourself. no one else is going to take care of me so i better suck it the fuck up and do it my god damn self. and i better make it fucking worth it.

[logmosswrites]

That Hum of Night

Fandom: Overwatch

Pairing: Hanzo Shimada x fem!reader x Jesse McCree

Words: 4k

Warning: NSFW! 18+ only. Definitely PWP, wet dreams, BDSM dynamics, Dom Hanzo and Jesse, Sub reader, dirty talk, humiliation/degredation (verbal and otherwise), praise kink, nipple play, dry humping, rope bondage, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, orgasm delay/denial, vibrator use, unsafe sex, creampie, oral sex/cunnilingus, come marking, aftercare. No y/n.

Author's note: cross posted to AO3.

There was nothing but heat. No up, no down, no world at all outside of the bodies pressed against yours. Your legs parted to make room for them, urging them closer still with every whimper and moan rolling off of your lips. You were hopelessly desperate, open and dripping for anything that would fill you. Fingers lazily fucked you open, joining a writhing tongue inside of your pussy. Hanzo and Jesse were everywhere all at once, sating your hunger as quickly as it appeared. Their mouths claimed every inch of skin they could find, the hot flash of teeth and tongue on your neck leaving you to gasp for air. You thrust your hips forward, shame long abandoned to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body. Please, you begged, just at the precipice of orgasm. Suddenly, deft fingers latched onto your aching clit, hard and punishing; you rocked with them, winding tighter and tighter until-

You woke up.

Slowly, the world came back to you, trickling in like a leaking faucet. Your mouth was dry; your heart pounded in your ears. You felt overheated, damp with sweat where you were sandwiched between Jesse and Hanzo- oh shit, Jesse and Hanzo .

“Sweetheart?”

And there was Jesse.

He was leaning over you, lit up by the moonlight filtering in through the curtains. Bracing yourself, you looked into his eyes, surprised to find concern instead of the amusement you expected.

“Are you alright, darlin’? It looked like you were having a pretty intense nightmare, there.”

Wait- nightmare?

“You nearly pushed me off of the bed,” interjected Hanzo from behind you, voice betraying his worry. It was only then that you noticed the rumpled blankets, piled up where you had tried to kick them off. Shit.

In response, you simply rolled over and tucked your flaming face into Jesse’s chest, unwilling to correct their conclusion. Jesse allowed this for a moment, but soon took your chin in hand, forcing you to look at him. “Hey, now, you don’t have to hide from me–from us. There’s no shame in bein’ a little shook up by a bad dream, sweetheart. Hell, even I get scared by what my brain decides to cook up sometimes,” the man said, sealing his words with a kiss to your forehead. You felt a tiny bit of guilt gnaw at you as he settled back down onto his side, bleary eyes watching yours for any sign of distress. But it wasn’t really lying, right? How would they ever even find out?

“Come here,” said Hanzo, snaking his arm around your waist. You went freely, fighting a shiver as you felt his familiar body conform to yours. “You are safe, my love,” he whispered, “in this bed, you are safe.” With that, your boyfriend pressed his lips to your neck, ghosting over it as he had in your fantasy. Your body reacted accordingly, hips rolling forward and a gasp hitching in your chest. You slapped a hand over your mouth, but it was too late; the room was fraught with tension, none of you daring to even breathe. Well, fuck.

“Sweetheart-”

“I-”

Silence once again.

“Do you need us to sleep somewhere else, darlin’? It’s alright if-”

“No!” you exclaimed, eyes wide. Jesse searched your face for the truth, scrutinizing your awkward expression. You avoided meeting his eyes, shifting under the weight of Hanzo’s arm. Slowly, the cowboy seemed to put two and two together, lips pulling together into a dimpled smirk.

“Hanzo, I don’t think our baby girl had a nightmare."

Kill me, kill me, kill me, you chanted inside of your head, feeling Hanzo’s grip tighten as he caught up to the idea. For a split second, you considered actually lying, dismissing it just as quickly when you saw Jesse's smirk turn devilish.

"Is that true, beloved?” Hanzo asked, breath warm on your ear, “Are you trying to hide something from us?”

This time, you couldn’t suppress your shiver. Damn, Hanzo and Jesse knew just how to play you.

“You naughty little slut,” admonished Jesse, “Let’s see how wet you are under those panties of yours.” Lightning-quick, the man reached under the covers, hooking his fingers into the offending piece of fabric. Viciously, he tore them down, yanking your knees forward in order to get them all the way off. Your breath caught in your throat as he brought your panties into the hazy light of the bedroom, showing off the soaked inner lining.

“Well, would ya look at that? Our baby girl made a mess of herself, Hanzo. What should we do about this?”

Holy shit, you were going to die, right here in this bed.

“I think,” spoke Hanzo, voice gravelly, “that we should make her clean it up.”

And fuck, if that didn’t make you even wetter. Jesse considered you for a moment, eyes gaining a ferocious gleam as he noticed your quickly-growing arousal. Without preamble, he pushed your underwear into your mouth, wrapping them around two of his thick fingers. Instantly, you began to suck, tongue working around the cloth. Jesse pushed deeper and deeper in response, nearly activating your gag reflex. As it was, your eyes swam with tears, barely able to make out your boyfriend’s face turning deathly serious as he concentrated on you. Hanzo, unwilling to be left out, began to knead his hands into your flesh, pulling your sleep shirt up in order to play with your quickly hardening nipples. His scorching-hot mouth then sank onto your skin once more, lavishing your neck with kisses. You could hardly think, hardly breathe. Desperate sounds came from deep in your chest, muffled by Jesse’s unrelenting fingers.

Minutes, or maybe hours, flew by before your panties were taken from your mouth. You drew in a greedy breath, panting from sheer desire. God, how much more could you take? You were positively soaked at this point, aching with a need for friction. You knew better than to try and seek your own release, yet you still gasped when Hanzo snatched your hands away from your throbbing clit, reprimanding you with a harsh bite to the shoulder. A hoarse cry tore from your throat, reverberating loudly in the dark bedroom.

“You,” drawled Jesse, “have been a bad, bad girl, princess. First, you made a fucking mess of your panties, which you tried to hide from us. Then, you went and played with your tight little pussy even when you know you’re not allowed to. I think you’ve earned yourself a punishment, slut.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck , that could mean anything. Punishments from Hanzo and Jesse were rare, but you knew you were in deep, deep shit regardless. And if his predatory grin was any indication, Jesse knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Hanzo, put her on her back. I want her begging by the time I’ve finished tying her up.”

With that, your world was disoriented, your view changing to that of Hanzo’s face right above yours. You felt more than saw Jesse getting off of the bed, quickly distracted by your other lover smothering you with a savage kiss. You did your best to reciprocate, but you were no match for Hanzo’s overwhelming influence. You could feel his hard cock pressing into your thigh where he straddled you, covered only by his cotton briefs. Before you could even think about moving your hands towards it, though, they were captured once more and pressed up above your head; holy shit, Hanzo moved fast.

“What a little whore,” Hanzo spoke, finally allowing you to draw in a breath, “So desperate for cock, you poor thing. How did you ever survive before we came along?”

Jesus Christ.

Hanzo, satisfied by your stunned silence, turned back to the task at hand, finally tearing off your shirt and sucking hickeys onto your bare chest. His goatee was coarse against your feverish skin as you rose up to meet him, writhing beneath his iron grip. You threw your head back, only opening your eyes when you felt Jesse grabbing your now-unoccupied wrist. In his other hand you saw a length of red rope, a frequent addition to your bedroom activities.

“Color?” Jessie asked, momentarily abandoning his dominating façade. Hanzo paused as well, considering you like he might consider his bow; serious and straightforward. You sucked in a deep breath, stomach swooping in anticipation when you croaked out a confident “green”.

With that, you were pulled back into Hanzo’s blazing inferno, hands and teeth and tongue setting your skin aflame. As Jesse maneuvered your wrist into a complicated cuff pattern, Hanzo took hold of your nipples once more, rolling one between his fingers as the other was caught between his teeth. Christ above, it was like someone had injected fire straight into your veins.

“You likin’ that, baby girl?” Came Jesse’s voice, off to the other side now and distinctly smug. You sent him a glare, tempered by the heady sensation of satiny rope being pulled against your sensitive skin. Jesse merely winked back, his roguish attitude written all over his relaxed-yet-confident posture. With one final flourish of the cowboy’s fingers, your hands were firmly tied to the headboard, spreading out to either side of you in a comfortable stretch of your shoulders. Before you could get too settled, however, Hanzo was moving his rough, calloused hands towards your hips–with a jerk, you were pulled flush against him, his erection just barely grazing your sex. Two forearms planted themselves next to your head, decisively caging you in.

“Jesse, tie her up like this. I want to make sure we have plenty of room to fuck her without restraint.”

God. You couldn’t believe Hanzo’s mouth.

“You got it, boss,” Jesse replied easily, taking your ankle in his hand. Heat curled low in your gut as your legs were spread wide by the cowboy’s unyielding grip, exposing you to Hanzo’s hungry gaze. The heat multiplied as Hanzo adjusted his hips, your own twitching up to meet him halfway. Yes, yes, yes, you thought, nearly salivating in anticipation. Slowly, ever so slowly, the archer began to roll his pelvis against yours, finally giving you the friction you had been craving. It was heaven; it was perfect. Hanzo steadily began to increase his rhythm, grunts of pleasure growing louder and louder along with your punched-out gasps. The man loved to do this with you, spending hours grinding on you as you cuddled to watch a movie or even as you were falling asleep in his arms.

“That’s it, beloved. Can you feel my cock? Do you want it?” Frantically, you nodded, head swimming in a slurry of arousal and desperation. “Then beg for it, you whore.”

Fuck. You could barely think a coherent word, much less say them–but you tried anyway, panting a quiet oh and yes and please as sweetly as you could. The archer only gave a noncommittal sigh in response, clearly unimpressed by your performance.

“How disappointing, Jesse; it sounds as though our little whore doesn’t want to be fucked after all,” came Hanzo's patronizing voice, sinking low in your stomach–the man never made empty threats, especially in the bedroom. A teasing slip of Jesse’s hand set you to begging, words tumbling past your lips before you could even process them. “God, please, please, Hanzo, fuck, Jesse, please, fuck me!” you cried, pleading your case in a way that could make a porn star blush. After a moment of stunned silence, all three of you came back to your senses.

“Fuck,” Jesse snarled, chest heaving. “Fuck.”

In a flurry of motion, he was tying you off, finishing the cuff on your other ankle; then he was diving towards you, capturing your mouth with his in an animalistic mix of lips and teeth. Small, possessive noises issued from the cowboy’s throat, buzzing on your tongue like the bubbles of a sweet champagne. A scorching hand burned down the lines of your body, setting your newly-formed bruises alight with sensation. You shivered in anticipation–you wanted, needed Jesse and Hanzo inside of you now.

All thinking stopped, however, when deft fingers finally reached your oversensitive clit; you jackknifed upwards, breaking your kiss with Jesse. Your hips bucked under Hanzo’s weight as you gulped in air, starving for oxygen and touch in equal measure.

“That’s it, slut,” Jesse said, voice rigid. His eyes were positively wild, stormy with need from where he was hovering over you. A glance at Hanzo’s face revealed much of the same. You imagined that this is what it must feel like to be a ship in a storm, to be something so small in comparison to nature’s unparalleled power. You opened your mouth in silent prayer as Jesse’s fingers laved over your sopping cunt, dragging them over your lips like the pages of a book. Without warning, he slipped two thick fingers inside of you, stretching you open while working his thumb in small circles over your clit. Oh, God. Your dream couldn’t even begin to compare to the actual feeling of Jesse’s hand, moving in and out with enough force to rock your whole body. Lewd noises filled your ears, setting off yet another round of sparks fizzling through you. A familiar surge of pleasure began to crescendo in the pit of your stomach, drawing out more breathless whimpers from somewhere high in your throat. However, just before you could reach your orgasm, Jesse’s thumb slipped from your throbbing clit, leaving you to clench around his fingers to no avail. Fuck, fuck, no! Just a little more...

Your eyes opened to meet Jesse’s face, finding that his impish smirk had slipped back on.

“Awww, darlin’, ya look so sad,” the man teased, crooking his fingers just to make you whine. “Don’t worry though, we’re just getting started…”

Equal measures of excitement and dread shot through you at his words. Hanzo and Jesse, while loving boyfriends, knew exactly how to push every single one of your buttons; in short, they could be assholes. Beautiful, sexy, lovable assholes. Paying your trepidation no heed, Jesse withdrew his hand from your hole, leaving you empty and shivering. Jesus, you were a mess.

“Wanna taste?” Jesse asked–but he wasn’t talking to you. No, he was offering his hand to Hanzo, who regarded the cowboy with relentless heat in his gaze. A silent something passed between them, before Hanzo was leaning in and taking the slick digits in his mouth, staring into Jesse’s eyes the entire time.

“Good, right?” Jesse said, voice gravelly once more. Hanzo simply hummed in response, before withdrawing once again. Another tense moment slipped by, in which it got harder and harder to remember how to breathe. Jesse’s eyes flicked downwards, then back up to Hanzo, seeming to ask a question; nearly imperceptibly, the archer nodded, drawing in a short breath when Jesse’s hand moved down to grasp the hem of his underwear. You bit your lip as Hanzo’s cock was revealed, red and leaking at the tip. With just a touch of Jesse’s fingers, precum was dripping onto your stomach, increasing your own arousal tenfold. Leisurely, the cowboy began to jerk Hanzo off, grip loose and taunting.

“Look at our girl, Hanzo,” Jesse commanded, swiping his thumb over the other man’s cockhead. “Look at how fuckin’ desperate she is for you”.

Hanzo’s eyes snapped to yours, and you felt the full weight of his attention crash down on you– fuck, he looked feral, lips pressed in a snarl and dark hair falling just past his chin. You couldn’t help but look away, feeling suffocated by Hanzo’s gaze; however, a metallic hand grasped your cheeks, wrenching your head back to look at your powerful lovers above you.

“Eyes up here, slut,” Jesse reprimanded, “I want you to watch him as he ruins that pussy of yours, understood?” You nodded. “Good. And don’t you fuckin’ dare cum before I tell you to, or else I’ll edge you for a week straight, got it?” Another nod, and he finally relinquished his hold on you, leaving a dull pain that you hoped would flower into bruises.

As you were told, you kept your eyes trained on Hanzo’s face, watching his eyes flutter as his cock was guided to your entrance. Once, twice, he slipped out, before he was slowly pushing in, inch by inch. God, he filled you perfectly. Finally, as Hanzo sank completely into you, Jesse relinquished his hold, stepping away to admire how the archer curved around you like a great beast getting ready to devour a meal. Arms shaking, Hanzo fell onto his elbows for support, hot breath sweeping over your face. He was close enough now that you could see beads of sweat beginning to form on his brow. You were the only one who got to see Hanzo like this, aside from Jesse–it was a fact that never seemed to get old, no matter how many times you had joined him in bed. Equally as tantalizing was the slide of his cock inside of you, beginning to move in short, calculated thrusts. Instinctively, you clenched down, earning a warning glare from Hanzo–but you were already in trouble, weren’t you? What would be the harm in doing a little teasing of your own?

Staring Hanzo in the eye, you purposely flexed your muscles once more, feeling a hot rush of slick slowly drip out of you. In a momentary lapse of control, Hanzo buried his head into your shoulder, letting out a strangled moan. You couldn’t keep from responding with a shit-eating grin, putting Jesse’s own signature smirk to shame. However, your expression dropped as you caught Hanzo’s thunderous face, towering over you as he rose back onto his hands and knees.

Oh, shit.

“You. Worthless. Whore. ” the man hissed, jaw clenched, “It seems as though you need to be reminded of your place.”

With surgical precision, Hanzo bottomed out inside of you, pausing for just a moment before retreating once again. Another thrust, and it was clear that your self-control would be pushed to the limit; already, you were falling apart, legs shaking from the sheer effort it took to hold back your orgasm. But Hanzo took no mercy on you, setting a steady rhythm that had you moaning helplessly. Fuck, this was getting difficult-

“Jesse, bring me the vibrator.”

God fucking dammit, you thought, your stomach dropping. Without so much as a stutter in his hips, Hanzo took the wand from Jesse’s outstretched hand, watching you intently as he nestled it right next to your clitoris. Your eyes flickered between the two sights, drinking in the sheer power your lover held over you. Then, with a click of a button, you were straining upwards, feeling as though you were being wrenched straight out of your body. Another click, and the vibrations grew even more intense; you longed to bury your hand in Hanzo’s hair, to scratch your nails across his muscled back, to do anything but sit there and take it. Each breath you drew in was cut off by the next, a staccato beat matching the rhythm of your racing pulse. You were close, so close that you could taste it on your tongue– shit!

“Did you really think I would let you cum, slut?” Hanzo asked, still thrusting in and out of your hole without care. Your whole body shuddered helplessly, hypersensitive after being denied once again. As you attempted to catch your breath, Hanzo reached down and twisted your swollen nipple, forcing you to lock eyes with him.

“I asked you a question, whore; answer me,” the archer commanded, practically growling, “Do you think you deserve to cum on my cock?” As if to punctuate his question, Hanzo slammed his hips forward, fucking you hard enough to pull against the ties at your ankles.

“Fuck! No!” you screamed, on the verge of tears. Your voice was wrecked with desperation, hoping beyond hope that the teasing would be over soon. However, you were soon at the mercy of the vibrator once again, letting out a whine at the feeling of it on your tortured clit. Hanzo sped up his pace, sitting up on his knees to watch every inch of your thoroughly marked body writhe underneath him. “That is right, you cumwhore. You do not deserve the honor of an orgasm at my hand. You are lucky that I am willing to fuck you in the first place.”

The vibrator was shut off once more, and you humped against it frantically, reserve long abandoned. “Go ahead, you stupid whore,” Hanzo encouraged, “Humiliate yourself. I want to see how pathetic you look when you cry.” A sob flew from your lips as the toy buzzed to life, only to be shut off seconds later, then turned on again, a sadistic pattern that made your hips jump and stutter on Hanzo’s cock. You could feel the archer’s perfect rhythm begin to falter, signaling his quickly-approaching climax; his moans burned hot on your skin, sending wave after wave of throbbing pleasure through your trembling body. Finally, you felt Hanzo seize up, almost uncannily still in the wake of his orgasm. Scorching cum flooded your hole, arousing enough to make your battered walls flutter with desire. A few heartbeats later, and Hanzo was crashing back down over you, gulping in air like a dying man. Tenderly, he pressed his sweaty forehead against yours, love and awe written in his furrowed brows and slackened mouth. As he breathed against you, you could feel your own hitching breaths slow, agonising desire fading just slightly into a dull roar.

Two pairs of hands whispered over your body, freeing your limbs from their confines, massaging the marks imprinted upon you by the ropes. You felt yourself float away just a little, untethered by chaste kisses pressed to your cheeks and soft hands stroking your thighs. Hanzo’s shifting body weight brought you back to the present, where Jesse was taking his place between your legs; Hanzo unceremoniously flopped to the side, grace all but forgotten in his post-orgasm haze. Your eyes opened slowly to see Jesse looking down at you, positively fit to burst with quiet affection. You smiled back, tensed and eager all the same.

"Ya did so good, darlin'," Jesse said, tone far softer now, "So good for us. Are ya ready for your reward?"

The praise melted into your skin, smoothing the raw edges that had been so expertly laid bare by Hanzo. With a simple nod, Jesse leaned in to kiss you once more, as slow and saccharine as honey. You embraced him in return, palms gliding over the coarse and ruddy plains of his cheeks; you felt like you were glowing from the inside out. Like a wave drawing across the sand, Jesse retreated, hands whispering down to your thighs. The rest of his body followed close behind, settling down between your legs with practiced ease.

"So beautiful, sweetheart," Jesse praised, "I can't wait to make you cum."

And there it was again, the knife's edge of hot desire. Almost subconsciously, you weaved your hands through Jesse's locks, giving them a tug. Jesse groaned deep in his chest, rekindling the flames in your gut. Your cowboy was so responsive. You pulled his hair again, set alight as Jesse muffled his moans into your sweat-soaked thigh.

“You’re gonna kill me, darlin’,” Jesse threatened, kissing his way towards your drenched pussy. A witty retort died in your throat as his tongue flattened against your swollen lips, lapping at the obscene mixture of cum and slick slowly dripping out of you. “Fuck,” you breathed, struck senseless by the hot-wet pleasure of Jesse’s plush mouth. An answering groan rang in your ears as the cowboy finally dipped his writhing tongue into your hole, drinking in the lewd slurry with feverish dedication. Your hands tightened into fists, pulling Jesse further and further in until his nose was pressed flat against your pussy. You whined; a sharpness ran through you along with pleasure, heightening each in a whirlwind of sensation.

Breathless, Jesse pulled back for a moment, sucking in air like a drowning man. In the low light, you could just make out the shine of your slick soaking the cowboy’s goatee–holy shit, that’s hot. Then, with fervor, Jesse was back to it, making you yelp as he latched onto your clit. You ground against him, his tongue sending shockwaves up and down your body; you were shaking with the oh-god-too-much of it all. Every inhale was a battle. Every movement made you see stars. Then, finally, finally, Jesse tore himself from your body, looking you in the eye as he said, “Cum for me, sweetheart."

You felt the command flow through you, breaking down walls and crashing into your nervous system. Jesse bent his head and sucked your clit hard, bringing you to the very edge once again. Mmm-hmm, mmm-hmm, he encouraged you, nearly whimpering; he was bucking his hips, and fuck, fuck, fuck, shit! You were cumming into Jesse’s mouth, vision whited out by a dazzling starburst. Your legs crashed into the cowboy’s face, pinning him to your gushing pussy as you rode out your orgasm; your whole body was spasming, uncontrollable with pleasure. Then, like a puppet cut loose, you were limp, releasing Jesse from your death grip.

The cowboy shot to his knees, ripping his boxers off as fast as possible; his flushed cock was bared, aching and practically dripping precum. "Fuck, babygirl," he moaned, hand flying, "I'm gonna-fuck, I'm gonna cum!" A final groan, and Jesse was falling off the edge with you, release streaking against your rolling abdomen--followed quickly by Jesse actually falling on top of you.

"Holy shit," you laughed, "Get the hell off of me, you jerk!" A gargled mess that might have been a "no" was your only response for a moment, before the pile of sweat and various sexual fluids that was your boyfriend rolled off of you. You couldn't help but giggle at his dramatics--god, you loved your idiots. A moment of silence permeated the room, until you yawned; oh yeah, it's like three A.M...

"If you two are done, I believe it is time for some aftercare," said Hanzo, sounding equally as tired. With his help, you got up, only to fold in half from the sore feeling radiating through your pelvis--fucking fuck, you forgot how much of a bitch this could be. Seeing your discomfort, Hanzo scooped you up, carrying you to the en-suite bathroom. You heard Jesse follow you in, fetching a second set of sheets from the linens cabinet. Carefully, you were set by the toilet, Hanzo turning to allow you some privacy. After finishing your business, you were escorted to the shower, where the archer tenderly cleaned you off. From there, things got blurry--you vaguely remembered the smell of arnica cream, the feeling of a soothing wipe on your swollen lips, strong arms carrying you to bed, and a tender kiss placed on your forehead. Then, you were off to sleep, dreamless and peaceful.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Likes are appreciated, reblogs/comments keep me writing! Let me know what you thought, your favorite passage, or even what time you're reading this at (bonus points if it's 1 A.M. or later). Toodles! ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ

#Jesse McCree #Hanzo Shimada #Jesse McCree x reader #Jesse McCree x reader smut #Hanzo Shimada x reader #Hanzo Shimada x reader smut #Jesse McCree x reader x Hanzo Shimada #mccree x reader #hanzo x reader #Smut #nsft text #nsft #fem!reader

[skiller0dani]

Broken Paradise | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut requests info wc | 9.1k summary | you run into an ex boyfriend during an interrogation. except it's you being interrogated, and it's your ex boyfriend doing the interrogating.

song

another draft just waiting to be published. really obsessing over Spencer Reid.

also there's mentions of abortion, nothing graphic it's literally just a short direct reference and nothing else.

You always hear people say your past will come back to haunt you, you just didn't know they meant literally. You leaned back against the metal chair in the interrogation room, you've been in here for what felt like hours. You couldn't complain too much seeing as it's your fault that you're in here at all. You wished they'd come in and tell you something, give you an update, say hi, say anything. You seriously underestimated how maddening silence can be. You knew little about the murders the police were investigating, something about druggie women being found mutilated. The pictures they showed you were downright horrifying, you'd need at least one solid bottle of tequila to forget the bodies of those poor women.

The Las Vegas Police Department were a bunch of judgmental pigs, the only reason they'd brought you here at all was because you were from the wrong side of the tracks. Both of your parents were users, and if you were lucky, also dead. They probably assumed you used as well, and seeing as you seemed to fit the killers physical preference the police brought you in for questioning and also for your own "safety". But really you knew they didn't give a damn about your safety, they just wanted to know where you got your shit from. No matter how many times you insisted you didn't use, they kept pushing. When one male officer started throwing your parents in your face, you stood up and promptly broke his nose. That's how you landed yourself cuffed to the table, tightly.

"Oh thank you so much for gracing me with your presence once more." You smiled sarcastically as another officer walked in, wait he's definitely not an officer. The man who entered the room had cleanly cut dark hair, and wore an expensive looking black suit. Not the run of the mill beat cop that you were expecting. You bit back any other fiery remarks, if you wanted to get the hell out of here you needed to cooperate. Diana would be expecting you, not that you were itching to see her but after letter number 75 of her begging you to swing by- well lets just say that Spencer's mother was never the problem. You doubt Spencer even knew Diana was contacting you, which was good. You wanted nothing at all to do with him.

"I'm Agent Hotchner here with the FBI I need to ask you a few questions." This man was all business, you seriously had to fight the urge to fuck with him a little bit.

"I'd shake your hand but..." Your eyes flickered towards the table, where the police officer who's nose you broke had very tightly handcuffed you. In fact he cuffed you so tightly that your wrists were already raw and bleeding a bit.

"They wouldn't have handcuffed you if you didn't punch an officer. Did he hit a nerve?" The Agent's face was level, and gave nothing away as to what he was thinking. You tongued the inside of your cheek, your foot tapping quickly on the concrete floor. These assholes were really starting to piss you off.

"He was being a dick, how many times do I have to tell you guys that I don't use? Are your heads filled with sawdust?" You snapped roughly, yanking away from him to lean back in your chair despite the biting pain in your wrists.

"That's not why I'm here Miss Y/L/N." Agent Hotchner said, his voice even and his eyes on you. The way he was looking at you made you feel exposed, like he could read all of your secrets because of the way your eye twitches when you're nervous. You hate these damn FBI profilers- wait.

"How's Spencer?" It's a shot in the dark, a very long shot in a very dark tunnel. Before the scumbag left you without warning, Spencer mentioned that someone was trying to recruit him for the BAU department of the FBI. The profilers. Spencer left and never came back, two guesses as to where he went. Your eyes locked onto the Agent's in front of you, and from the slight upturn at the corner of his brow you knew you got him. Spencer is here.

"You know Dr. Reid?"

"So he's a Doctor now, doesn't surprise me. Let me guess, he has PHD's and Doctorates in Math, Chemistry and something to do with Geography right?" You say as casually as you can and you can only hope this man is wondering how you happen to know so much about one of his Agents.

"Unless I'm speaking to Spencer Reid, I want my lawyer." You snap, leaning back. You know Spencer won't talk to you, and unless they have physical proof you're guilty of something they'll have to let you go.

Check mate.

//

Spencer couldn't ignore the questioning glances from his fellow teammates even if he'd wanted to. He watched you lean back in your chair from the other side of the one way glass, what are the chances that you are wrapped up in this case? You of all young petite blonde women in the metro area. The world was fucking with him, it had to be.

"She a friend of yours?" Derek's voice was the first to cut through the silence.

"No." One word answers were the safest route, the shortest diction would give little time for them to draw information out of the way Spencer was speaking. There was a tremble in his tone, he knew there was. Spencer prided himself for having little to no baggage behind him, but of all unopened suitcases- his previous relationship with you was the largest one.

"Really? Cause she seems to know a lot about you." Derek said, his eyes fixed on Spencer. The tension in the room was palpable, and suddenly it felt hard for Spencer to breathe let alone compose himself. After shoving free from the small viewing room, Spencer found it a lot easier to exist without the scrutinizing gazes of his coworkers.

"You hear her?" It was Hotch, with a patiently guarded expression on his face. Spencer and drugs wasn't an uncommon problem, although in the past his poison of choice was dilaudid. Now there's a string of drug related murders and a possible junky who seems to know a lot about him.

"Yeah, from before the Bureau." Spencer clarified quickly, and Hotch honestly looked the tiniest bit relieved.

"Think you could talk to her, she's made it obvious she won't talk to any of us." Hotch said, and from the tension building in Spencer's shoulders he can tell there's some bad blood between the two of you. Spencer took a deep breath before taking all of those unresolved emotions and forcefully shoving them down. Deep, deep down. It's time to do a job, there's a missing woman who needs to be saved.

//

When that door opened again, you thought you'd won. You thought they were coming to begrudgingly release you. Instead you were met by the big doey eyes of Spencer Reid, your first and last love. All the air was stolen from your lungs in an instant, the memories flood back and you can't stop them. The anger rises then, this is the first time you've seen him since he left you. The one person you trusted not to leave you did, he left like everyone leaves you. Like your parents left you. He's very clearly all business, his face hardly giving anything away as he swiftly reached down to unlock the handcuffs around your wrists. If you wanted to walk away from this without your heart getting broken you needed the upper hand.

"Heya baby." You smiled, you hoped that maybe it would disarm him. At least a little, but when you looked at him all you saw was a stoic and focused expression. Nothing? Really?

"I need to ask you a few questions Miss Y/L/N." Spencer's voice was controlled, even in tone. His voice... God his voice could bring you right to tears. You could still hear him saying how much he loved you with that stupidly angelic voice of his. Spencer was very quickly taking control of the situation and you did not like that at all.

"You know you can ask me anything, there's no secrets between us right Spence?" You leaned forward on your elbows, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing in your wrists. One of Spencer's biggest giveaways is eye contact, when he's upset or feels guilty he'll avoid looking into your eyes. You turn your gaze up to meet his, but once again you're completely disarmed to see him unabashedly looking into your eyes like it isn't a problem at all. Either Spencer has amnesia and forgot who you were, or what happened between you two doesn't hurt him like it hurts you. You refuse to believe it's the latter, he just forgot. Definitely forgot. Somehow he must have forgot.

"Nina Fredricks, have you ever seen her?" He slid a photo in front of you, you recognize her as the woman who was most recently kidnapped. Most recently being 12 hours ago so chances of her still being alive are unfortunately slim. You nibble on your lower lip, come to think of it you actually might have seen her.

"Yeah, saw her at Winchell's, little coffee shop on the corner of 5th? You remember right Spence? You used take me there all the time, I loved giving you head under the table." You smirk, but it quickly falters. Whatever training he went through must have stripped him of all emotion and turned him into a machine. Built only to solve cases and do nothing else. That wasn't the case however, you just didn't know how good Spencer is at compartmentalizing his emotions. He could only imagine the looks on his coworkers faces upon hearing you say that, at least he can just say you were lying to try and illicit some sort of reaction from him. They don't have to know that you totally used to slip under the table and swallow his cock in a diner full of people. They don't know about that side of him, and Spencer doesn't plan on changing that.

"When?" He presses on with the interview, and surprisingly you're forthcoming with information when you're speaking to Spencer. Even after all this time, he has this annoying power over you. This innate ability to get you to do whatever he wants you to, although you would prefer him to use this special ability in the bedroom. No! No you have to eradicate thoughts like that, Spencer hurt you worse then anyone else ever has. He hurt you worse because he made you think he was going to stay, and then he didn't.

"Few nights ago, she looked really messed up though. Winchell threw her out, definitely doped up on something. Before you ask, no I didn't see where she went." You sigh, finally giving up flashing Spencer the all too familiar 'you win' look. Usually a victorious grin stretches across his face, but not this time. Those times are over.

"Did you see anybody with her?" You're not entirely surprised that Spencer isn't writing any of this down, that stupid eidetic memory. You're fooling yourself if you think he forgot what happened, Spencer never forgets anything. Ever.

"Every detail matters."

You genuinely try to remember if anybody was with Nina, and while you didn't see anyone you remember shortly after she left the diner there was this horrible screeching sound. "After Nina left I heard what sounded like tires screeching on the street. Never saw a car though."

"Thank you Miss Y/L/N, is there anything else you can remember about that night? Anything that sticks out?" After a few moments of quiet contemplation, you shake your head.

"Am I free to go?" You ask quietly and Spencer shakes his head.

"Unfortunately we're going to have to keep you in protective custody. We'll move you to a more comfortable room, but you'll need to stay in the precinct."

"But why? I'm not a drug addict-"

"You are exactly this killers type, and we don't know if looking a certain way is more important or if being a drug addict is when it comes to him choosing his victims." Spencer explains simply, his mouth moving a mile a minute as he stands. When he turns his eyes back on you, you realize he's waiting for you to follow him. You stand and follow him out of the cold interrogation room to a comfier waiting room. It has a table and chairs, vending machine and a big plush couch.

"You can stay in here, we'll let you know when it's safe to go home." Spencer says, and this is when you finally catch the crack in his façade. His eyes flicker away from yours, trying to disguise the waver in his voice, the desperation to vacate the room as quickly as he can. But now that you've seen him break, even a little, you're going to crack him wide open. You won't let it go that easily.

"Spencer?" Your voice is soft, with an innocent drawl that Spencer can't resist. He turns his head to look at you, swallowing thickly when his eyes meet yours.

"You do remember me don't you? Once upon a time we were in love." You see the rest of his coworkers trying and failing to look like they're not listening. But it's not like you care if they do, Spencer will though but luckily his back is to the door. After a few moments of tense silence, he finally speaks.

"Of course." It's not the answer you were hoping for but it's an admission, which is more then you were getting earlier.

"Do you miss me Spencer? Miss me in bed next to you?"

"W-Well I-"

"Do you miss when I used to cook your favorite dinner every night when you came over? Do you miss how I loved you unconditionally?" Your voice was steadily growing more hostile, and you knew there were tears building in your eyes. This has all been building up for so long you know you can't stop it now.

"Y/N-"

"Do you miss being able to fuck me whenever the hell you want? Is that what you miss the most Spencer? You must not miss me that much because when you left I didn't even get a fucking call! You didn't even say goodbye, you just left!" You were yelling now, with tears streaming down your face. Spencer had slyly shut the door by now, he knew this was going to happen the second he saw you. He wished he could help you understand why he had to leave the way he did. He was trying to protect you, and he still firmly believes he's protecting you. Look what happened to Haley, what happened to Maeve. Spencer loved Maeve and he lost her like Hotch lost Haley, and Spencer can't lose you. Not you. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to you.

"Please try to understand-" You never even let him get close to finishing his thought.

"Understand what? Leaving me? You said you loved me! How could you love me and then leave me alone? While I was pregnant!" Your hands flew to your mouth, you honestly never planned on telling him that. Spencer's eyebrows rose high in the air, and you can tell you just knocked the wind out of him. Spencer's hand reached back for the door handle, "pregnant?"

"Spencer I'm sorry I didn't mean to tell you that way." You tried to explain, and despite the fact that he'd abandoned you, you were dead terrified of him leaving again now that he was stood in front of you.

"Do I have a child you never told me about?" His voice is shaky, afraid. Now you can see all his coworkers heavily invested in your conversation.

"N-No, I...I got rid of it." You said softly, watching the mix of emotions swirl across his face. When his trembling palm curls around the door handle you launch forward to grab at his arm.

"I'm sorry, please don't leave. Not again-" But he's pulling his arm free from yours and turning out of the room, nearly slamming the door behind him.

//

Spencer ignored the questions, he ignored the looks. His legs gave out somewhere near one of the couches. He stared ahead numbly, trying to make sense of what you'd just told him. Trying to somehow wrap his head around the terror of you being pregnant and then the grief of the lost possibility all at the same time. By now, JJ and Rossi had shooed everyone away from Spencer. Which he was immensely grateful for, the only thing he wanted now was to be alone. Completely and entirely alone.

Pregnant.

The word kept replaying like a scratched record, screeching in his ears every time he closed his eyes. Spencer pressed the balls of his palms into his eyes when he heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching him. Whoever it was, he already wished they would go away.

"Damn Kid, I didn't expect you to date such a spitfire." Derek joked as he sat down, doing what he can to ease the tension. Spencer didn't even bother looking up at him, his head stubbornly lowered and his gaze locked on the ground. Derek racked his brain for something adequate to say, but what was there to say? How could Derek find a way to make this right? Spencer just found out you were pregnant with his child and that you'd got an abortion all in the same 10 seconds. It was a lot to process.

"You gotta talk to her Spence." Derek's voice was less humorous this time. Spencer wrung his hands nervously, his eyes finally lifting to meet Derek's. A sharp shake of his head and a flash of the tears in his eyes and Spencer stands, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands. Time to get back to work. Someone has to talk to you, Derek can't stand of someone crying by themselves like that.

"It's not really my place-" JJ tried to argue as Derek stood in front of her.

"Someone needs to talk to her, and Spencer isn't going to." Derek said, rubbing a hand down his face as his eyes flickered back to Spencer. Who was currently throwing himself headfirst into the geographic profile of the killer they're looking for, because maybe if he works hard enough the rest of the entire world will just disappear. Maybe if Spencer keeps working and does nothing else you'll just vanish from that room and he won't have to deal with this. It's not that Spencer wants you to go away, the opposite actually but there isn't room in his life for you anymore. It's not safe. Spencer would rather be alone for the rest of his life then put you in danger because he's lonely and misses you.

"Alright, fine. But only for Spence." JJ says, jabbing a finger in Derek's direction before reluctantly heading towards the room you're in. She glances back at Spencer, who has become consumed by the map in front of him. JJ can always tell when something is bothering him, he has physical giveaways. The way his shoulders are rigid as he scribbles something on the whiteboard, the furrow in his brow that lets her know that while he's working on something, his mind is elsewhere. The tremble in his palm from trying so hard to hold everything back, everything he doesn't want anyone else to see. To someone that doesn't know Spencer, he looks perfectly composed, his attention and focus completely on his work. JJ knows him well enough to know that his mind, and heart are sitting tattered in this waiting room on the couch next to you.

JJ creaks the door open, flashing you a smile that makes you absolutely hate her guts. Spencer probably has some puppy love crush on her, she's beautiful. Long blonde hair, slender body, stunning smile. Everything you're not.

"Hi I'm Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ." The way she's looking at you lets you know that she came in here to try and understand. You're not in the mood to talk to her or anybody else in this stupid building except for Spencer. You want to hate him so bad but you can't. You can't because of how much you fucking love him. The bastard.

"Look I know you're probably not all that excited to talk to me-"

"I want Spencer." You snap, and by the look on her face you can tell she isn't surprised that you said that. JJ chewed on the inside of her cheek, how does she say that Spencer doesn't actually want to talk to you?

"Dr. Reid is needed elsewhere right now, but I'm willing to talk if you need to."

"You don't have to lie Agent Jareau. I know he doesn't want to see me, he's doing that thing where he pretends to work on something while secretly obsessing over something else." You say casually, and the fact that you can pick Spencer apart so easily is somewhat off-putting to JJ. But that could be her unrequited crush on him shining through, deep down JJ doesn't like that some other woman knows Spencer better then she does. While you'd love to sit here and wallow in your misery, a much worse idea strikes you then. If you can't talk to Spencer why not fuck with the woman who's clearly in love with him.

"And the little twitch in his fingers, the slight clench in his jaw. See that? He keeps rolling his shoulders back," while everything you were saying isn't a lie- it's guaranteed to annoy her. JJ stayed quiet, she hated that she didn't know what the goddamn twitch in his fingers meant.

"He's tense, but there's more. He can't stand still, keeps shifting from foot to foot. It's driving you crazy that you don't know why he's doing that." You laugh as her annoyed eyes flash to yours for a second before settling on Spencer again.

"You're a profiler, you can't figure it out? That doesn't surprise me, you've probably never considered the fact that Spencer has an unusually high sex drive." Your words completely stun her, and JJ's cheeks flush profusely.

"It means he's horny." You say casually, leaning back against the couch. You love the blush on her cheeks, and the fact that she's clearly biting her tongue to avoid saying something rude. You love that you got under her skin, and yes you're aware that you're a bad person. Now that you've said it, JJ can't get it out of her damn head. Spencer is horny. Spencer isn't a virgin. The thought of Spencer having sex makes JJ feel a sick turning in her gut. She was happy believing Spencer was a virgin, believing that nobody has gotten to experience that side of him yet. Happy to believe that he was untouched, but apparently that was not the case. Now that the illusion has been shattered, JJ feels as though the jagged pieces of it are cutting into her, and she knows you enjoy watching her bleed.

"Trust me, I know just what to do to relieve the tension, I know how to get him off quick. Do you?" You smile as you let your eyes shamelessly drag down his slender frame.

"You're only saying this because you want to control the conversation, and you hate that I see him everyday. That I can talk to him whenever I want, about whatever I want. You wouldn't lash out if you didn't feel intimidated." JJ says calmly, rendering you just as speechless as she was moments ago. The pain that was sent stabbing into your heart caused you to recoil back from JJ, trying to hide your misty eyes from hers. You can't let her know that she's winning.

"Look, we can both get nasty all we want but that's not why I'm here. I just want to help." JJ says sincerely, but you still don't budge. JJ taps her fingers against the wood of the table, thinking about leverage she can use to get you to talk to her.

"Spencer fell in love again." JJ says finally, and this time you turn your gaze up to look at her. You push your emotions down, no matter how much it hurts to hear her say that. Who is she? Are they still together?

"If you want to know more about her, then I suggest you talk to me. An answer for an answer, fair?" You can see her trying to bait you, and damn her because it's working.

"Fine." You grumble, leaning back fully against the couch. Your eyes catch Spencer's for a second when he turns to face the table, presumably looking for a map you remember being on the right side. You point to the right side of the table and Spencer looks nothing but annoyed when he follows your direction and finds what he's looking for. He hates that he functions better as a person when you're around.

"What's the deal with you and Spence?" JJ asks, and there is a lot to unpack with that question.

"Gonna have to be more specific." You say with a shrug, your eyes hesitantly meeting hers.

"How long were you two together?"

"2 years 8 months." You answer without pausing, causing her eyebrows to raise. JJ didn't expect you to remember down to the month, it's been years since you and Spencer were together. That's not a short fling like JJ originally thought, that's a substantial amount of time.

"What's her name?" You ask, desperate to get information on this mystery woman who has stolen Spencer from you.

"Her name was Maeve." Was. You don't miss how she says was instead of is.

"Why do you hate Spencer?" JJ looked like she cared, but you know it's not you she cares about. She's in here to try and protect Spencer in some way, she's acting like you're the villain.

"I don't hate him. He abandoned me. Just packed up and left, no note, no goodbye. Haven't heard from him since." You snap, hating the amount of emotion that was in your voice. JJ's eyebrows furrow, that's just so unlike Spencer. He's not cruel, he's never been cruel but that...is cruel. You see a look flash across her face.

"Sweet boy isn't as sweet as he seems." You say softly, folding your arms over your chest.

"He must have had a good reason." JJ insists, her eyes landing on Spencer's back as he continues to map out the hunting grounds of the killer. You know he's just wasting time to avoid coming back in here. Spencer is a certifiable super genius, he finished mapping it out a while ago. He's just pretending he hasn't finished yet.

"Spence still with her? Maeve." Her name felt like poison on your tongue, and JJ slowly shook her head.

"She died in front of him, really tore him up." Your heart cracks a little bit at her words, you can't imagine how hard that must have been for him. You see JJ open her mouth to ask something else when the door opens, and a man with darker skin pokes his head in.

"JJ? Reid found him, we gotta go." As soon as he arrived, he's gone with JJ hot on his heels. She sends you a smile before she rushes out of the room, and you see Spencer following her path out. They're going to arrest a murderer who has an arsenal of weapons at his disposal.

"Spencer! Y-You can't go, it's not safe!" You blurt from the doorway, and he pauses. His eyes find yours as he holsters his pistol, an unreadable expression on his face.

"It's my job." And that's all he says before he disappears out of the precinct, leaving you once again.

//

You couldn't quell the anxiety turning in your gut, you're not sure how to exist while Spencer is out there hunting a murderer. You wished that you could turn off the part of your brain that's still so damn attached to him, but no matter how hard you try you can't silence your heart as it calls for him. You're not sure you could survive the constant fear of losing him if you ever ended up with him again, this life is too much for you to take. Maybe he knew that all those years ago when he left you the first time, Spencer always could see right through you. Maybe he left because he knew staying would only lead you to live a life of constant fear, maybe he was trying to protect you. Either way the reasons don't matter anymore because he left, and nothing can change how badly that hurt you.

"Does it normally take this long?" You ask a passing officer, who in turn shrugs before continuing on his path. You feel like you're going to explode or vomit, or both. It's been over 2 hours, should it be taking this long? What if he got shot? What if he's dead right now and you're sitting here with your damn thumb up your ass worrying about him like a useless housewife? Feeling useless, that's what you hate the absolute most. Knowing there's nothing you can do to stop a bullet on it's trajectory to his heart.

"Spence, are you sure you're okay?" You hear a flurry of voices and when his name graces JJ's lips you're pushing out of the room. Your eyes find him instantly, and then travel to his palm which is pressed tightly to his neck. His bleeding neck. You feel your heart rate spike, hammering like the hooves of wild horses as you move without thinking about it. Before you even understand that you've moved, you're stood in front of him. Your eyes try to scan his neck for wounds but his palm covers the location the blood is coming from.

"C'mere." You grab his wrist and yank him back towards where you saw a first aid kit earlier. Luckily your 2 and a half years of nursing school taught you how to stitch a wound and perform basic first aid. Spencer offers no resistance as you yank him to a back corner of the precinct, pushing him to sit down. You grab the first aid kit, slowly prying his hand from his neck. Your eyes mist at the wound, it's a bullet wound. Looks old though, there's scarred tissue. This had to have happened a few weeks ago at least. You see the thin line of the scar, the middle section seems to have opened up again.

"You didn't wait long enough for this to heal." You scold gently, not missing how his eyes watch you with an intensity smoldering in them. You miss the way he used to look at you, the way he's looking at you right now. You miss being the center of his whole world, you scoff. Look how easy it was for him to walk away from you. You threat a needle to stitch the center of his wound shut again, and when you look for numbing cream you discover that there isn't any.

"Spence, there isn't any- I can't find the numbing..." Your voice trails off as you begin to yank things out of the first aid kit to search for the numbing cream. Spencer's hand catches your wrist and it's only just now that you realize you're trembling.

"It's okay. I'll be fine." He settles back against the chair he's sitting in, turning his head to reveal his neck to you. You hesitate, the Spencer you remember had a very low pain threshold. All of a sudden he's expecting you to stitch him up with no numbing agent?

"Y/N, I can handle it." Spencer says again, his voice firmer than before. You swallow a lump in your throat before reaching forward to begin stitching. You press the needle against his neck, eyeing him to gauge his reaction as you puncture his skin to make the first thread. To your surprise he hardly flinches, a small quirk in his lip is the only giveaway that he's in pain. Is this the same man that got squirmy getting a shot? That would shy away from the needle? Now he's sitting here letting you stitch him up without moving a muscle, without even flinching? The more time you spend with him the more proof you get that this isn't the same Spencer that left you all those years ago.

"How did it happen?" You ask, wondering how he could have survived a gunshot to the neck. He shifts uncomfortably.

"Got shot, two inches away from hitting my jugular." Spencer says it so casually, but you're so stunned that you halt your movements for a moment.

"How many times have you been shot?" You ask, your voice hoarse. Is him getting shot a common occurrence?

"Twice. Also got shot in the leg." The casual way Spencer talks about it almost convinces you it isn't a big deal. But it is. It's a bullet ripping through his body, and it's happened to him on two separate occasions. You finish stitching and bandaging him up, your hands moving away from him as soon as you can.

"Thank God you went to nursing school or I'd be six feet under." He jokes. You know he's kidding but still, the thought of it makes you feel lightheaded.

"Don't say stuff like that." You snap softly, and you know Spencer can see the fear and vulnerability in your eyes. You hesitantly steal a glance up at him once he's stood up only to find he's already looking at you. You shy away from his intrusive gaze, and you could practically feel him probing at your mind. Reading your thoughts as if they were written down for him. You hate that he can always tell what you're thinking, you hate that it was so easy for him to read you. Like a damn book. You have to fight the urge to reach out and grab his hand, it's what you always did when you felt lost or unsure. Spencer was always there to ground you and bring your mind back out of your thoughts.

"Miss Y/L/N?" You hear JJ's voice gently interrupt you two. You shoot away from Spencer as though you were doing something scandalous. He doesn't move an inch.

"Yes!" You blurt a little too loudly, suddenly flustered being so close to him. Why does your sharp tongue always leave you when you need it?

"You're clear to go home."

"I can take her." Spencer speaks up before JJ has a chance to offer, and she knew he would. You swallow a nervous lump in your throat, your palms shaking.

//

The SUV has dark tint, you weren't expecting that. The second you sat back in the plush leather seat your mind flew to lewd thoughts of you leaning over the center console, Spencer's hand in your hair as he helps you take his cock in your mouth. You steal one glance at Spencer, his right hand holding the steering wheel loosely. Your cheeks heat up as you glance down between his legs, get ahold of yourself.

"The address is-"

"I remember." You knew he would. That damn eidetic memory ensured that he never forgot anything. It broke your heart a little, because some naïve part of you was hoping he remembered because it meant something to him. You hoped he remembered the way to your house because he didn't want to forget, because forgetting it meant forgetting you. But you know the reality, you know that he remembers because he has no choice but to remember. His memory is too good to allow him to forget anything, even if it was something he wanted to forget. You're grasping at straws and you know you are, holding onto that foolish notion that Spencer still held onto the memories. That he still held onto the gifts you gave him, crying softly in the night like you did sometimes.

"JJ told me about Maeve." You say softly into the silence, and you saw Spencer swallow thickly out of the corner of your eye. "I'm so sorry you lost her Spence."

"Thank you." He honestly wasn't expecting you to say that, to acknowledge the pain. Because acknowledging the pain meant that you knew he loved her. He did love her. But it was a different love then the love he feels for you. It was special, but so are you. You're special too.

"Have you...dated anyone else?" Spencer can't help but ask as he subconsciously continues the drive to your house. A drive he's committed to his memory, a drive he never wants to forget. You shift to look at him, there were a few you dated. You know when you tell Spencer about them that it'll drive him crazy.

"Tony Anderson." You say and just like you thought, Spencer groans deeply. Spencer detests Tony, they were practically mortal enemies when he still lived in Las Vegas.

"Tony? Seriously?" His tone is incredulous as his grasp on the steering wheel tightens ever so slightly.

"He was a good fuck at least." You know you shouldn't wind him up, but he hurt you for Christ's sakes. He deserves a little bit of pain too. Spencer flinches, a look of anger and something else simmering in his eyes.

"Please tell me you didn't have sex with Tony."

"Why does it matter?" You shouldn't enjoy upsetting people as much as you do. But there's still a small part of you that's convinced that Spencer deserves this.

"Because I can't live with the fact that somebody else has gotten to feel that perfect cunt of yours, let alone Tony." His crude words take you by surprise, and you can't fight the gasp that escapes your mouth.

"Well before you start digging your grave, relax. I never had sex with Tony." You decide to put him out of his misery, and you see the relief physically flood his body. You lean against the window, the next admission from you will leave the air heavier in it's wake.

"I've never slept with anyone but you Spence." You realize it's been a long time since you've seen Spencer let alone had sex with him but you could never bring yourself to sleep with someone else. It's not as though the opportunity never presented itself, you had plenty of chances to have sex with someone else. But you couldn't because there's still a stubborn part of you that doesn't want to betray Spencer.

"Really? Why?" Apparently this revelation surprised him.

"Because no matter where you go I will always belong to you." You snap without thinking, blinking tears from your eyes as you avoid his gaze. Spencer fell silent then, and you know he feels guilty. Probably because he's slept with someone else in the time since he's been with you.

"I know you have and it's fine I'm not trying to-"

"I haven't." Spencer corrects instantly, his eyes meeting yours through the darkness of the SUV. If he could see you he would see the look of utter surprise on your face. It's not as though Spencer was an overly sexually ambitious person when you dated, but you figured he probably slept with at least one person. "I haven't slept with anybody else either."

"I know someone that wants to though." You grumble without thinking, your mind drifting to JJ and the obvious crush she thinks isn't obvious. Spencer tilts his head in a way that resembles a confused puppy, you resist the urge to ruffle his hair.

"Who?"

"Agent Jareau." As soon as the name slips past the threshold of your lips, Spencer's jerks the wheel in surprise. You see a dark blush color his cheeks as his other hand reaches up to steady the wheel.

"J-Jennifer? No way! She's my best friend." You nearly laugh at his flustered state, and normally you would push it a little further but you decide to let it go. You don't want to completely destroy the way he sees her, you know you already destroyed the way she sees him.

"You have no idea what a catch you are Spencer." You tell him as you unbuckle your seatbelt, getting ready to exit the SUV. Spencer reaches over and places a warm hand on your wrist to stop you from leaving, his eyes searching yours for an answer he isn't sure you have.

"Come in?" You ask hopefully, you're not ready for him to leave again. Damnit why did he have to turn up again after so long? You were just starting to think that maybe you could move on and find someone new. You were finally starting to feel okay, and then Spencer reappears and turns your entire world upsidown all over again. Deep down you know that nobody will ever compare to Spencer Reid, and you don't want them to. You don't want anyone to be like Spencer, you want him to be his entirely own person. It's what you love the most about him, is his ability to be himself no matter where he is or who he's with. All of his little quirks, the things about himself that he doesn't notice but you do.

"Yeah." His answer comes across as an exhalation of breath, and you try to hide how excited you are. You want to hold on to any moment you can, stolen moments that you take as you please with no regret whatsoever.

"Nothing has changed." Spencer muses once you unlock the front door and push inside the darkened living room. You blush, admittedly nothing about your small townhouse has changed. It's all basically the exact same as when Spencer saw it last. You rub a hand down your arm as Spencer's eyes go wandering. Trailing over the curtains he remembers hastily pulling closed to protect your decency on more than a few occasions. His gaze then travels to the couch, all those movie nights you two spent curled up together. Or when he got you into Star Trek and you couldn't stop watching it. Pain stabs his chest for a moment, it's hard to remember everything he had to let go of to get the job he has now.

"I miss you too, you know." Spencer says off-handedly. It takes you by surprise, the sureness in his tone is jarring. He sounds so comfortable admitting when he's vulnerable, it's never been easy for you to be vulnerable with him. Maybe that's part of the reason he left, maybe you drove him away by shutting him out. His eyes meet yours, a look so soft in his eyes it feels as though his gaze is caressing your skin. You bite your bottom lip to keep the emotions at bay, what is it about this man that makes you so emotional?

"I never said I missed you." You try to snap, to add an edge to your tone. But instead it came out watery and broken, and in turn Spencer reached up to swipe away a falling tear.

"But you do." You can't even deny it, it's obvious.

"Damn you Spencer Reid, I was finally starting to feel okay again." You cry softly, curling your arms towards your chest in an attempt to shrink away from him. He cups your cheeks in his palms, turning your face up towards him.

"I wasn't." He admits before his lips are on yours, and it's not frenzied and desperate like you've been picturing all these years. It's slow and calculated, soft and passionate. Firm but with a tenderness that makes your knees buckle from the gravity of it. Spencer's fingers card into your hair, pulling your head closer to his. He nips at your lower lip, his arms crushing you against his chest. You throw yourself into him, your arms holding him as tightly as you possibly can. Afraid that if your vise grip loosens, even for a second, that he'll slip through your fingers like trying to hold onto water. You almost don't want to let your eyes close, you don't want him to disappear again.

"I missed you, I miss you-" You gasp against his lips, grabbing fistfuls of his dress shirt. Spencer continues to move his lips languidly against yours, backing you against the wall. His hand ghosts down your side to the hem of your shirt, his fingers toying with it.

"O-Off." You beg, and in an instant Spencer is pulling your shirt over your head. His eyes land on your bare chest, shocked that he almost forgot that you never really wear a bra. His hands curl around your back, drawing your chest up into his awaiting lips. His mouth curls around your hardened nipple, your hand flying into his hair from the contact.

"Is this a dream? Please tell me you're really here Spencer." You beg, almost becoming lost in the emotions again. His eyes flutter up to meet yours, his mouth reluctantly leaving your nipple. He brushes his lips over yours, his hand trailing down your stomach towards the waistband of your leggings.

"This is real, I'm here baby. I'm home." Hearing those words was too much, and you launch yourself into his chest as the first tear trickles down your cheek. Your lips press sloppily to his, the kiss messy and wet as his hand slides into your leggings. His fingers find your wet slit in an instant, desperately parting your lips to slide a lithe finger into you. Your body reacts to him instantly, in a way that surprises you. Almost as though it too was crying out for him, keening into him and begging for his touch as much as your mind is. Spencer hauls one of your thighs up to hook around his waist as he presses another finger into you. You cry out softly into the quiet air, accompanied only by the labored breathing fanning across your face.

"I need to feel you, I- I need-" You can barely get the words out as he steadily pumps his fingers into you. His mouth on yours silences your desperate pleading, his chest firmly pressing your back into the wall. You missed being able to feel him and you hate that you forgot what it feels like to have his body on yours. It's been so long you forgot what the sting of his cock feels like. What it feels like when you stretch wide open around him, to feel like you're being ripped in two. Spencer continues his pace, his thumb rolling your clit to provide the extra stimulation you're missing. It's not enough to satisfy you, but its enough for you two cum. Which you do. You gush around his fingers as you gently come undone, your back arching into him.

"Please," You beg wantonly, curling your other leg around his waist as his hands hook underneath your thighs. Spencer's lips press against yours, moving slowly against your own. You know now that you will never stop loving Spencer, and that he's completely ruined you for life. You'll never be able to love anybody else without your heart wandering back to him. But then again, you don't really mind because you don't want to be with anybody else. You don't want to love anybody else. You just want him, only him. He pushes into your room, walking the entirety of the way with his eyes closed and his mouth pressed against yours. He has the layout of your house mapped out in his head? He never even bumped into anything until he was dropping you unceremoniously on the bed.

"Tell me what you need, I'll give you whatever you want." Spencer husks against you, hovering above you. Your fingers are already unbuttoning his shirt before you even have the chance to respond to him. You know instantly what you want, what you need from him.

"I want all of you, give me everything." You plead, your lips practically chasing his as he kneels up over you. He's being soft tonight, and that's something you appreciate greatly. You need to feel his love, you need to feel everything you know he can't quite put into words. His hands are shaking as he undoes the button and zipper of his dress slacks before kicking them off the edge of the bed. You stare up at his naked body, looking as though it's been sculpted by the Gods specifically for you. Spencer smiles softly at you as he pulls your leggings down your legs, leaving little nips and kisses on your inner thighs as he goes.

"Hurry." You groan, nearly clawing at his bare shoulders to pull him back up to you. Spencer chuckles at how eager you are, watching with interested eyes as the head of his cock breaches your folds. You reluctantly stretch open as he continues his intrusion, his fists curling tightly around the sheets. Christ you weren't lying about not sleeping with anyone else, you're so tight it's making him feel a little lightheaded. Inch by inch Spencer presses into you, his forehead resting against yours once his pelvis is sitting flush against yours. Sure, you've had sex with hi before but never have you felt this connected to him. Spencer sits like a gentleman and lets you adjust to his size, trying to take a few deep breaths himself. It's hard to breathe with your heat sucking him in with a vice grip.

"Can I move?" You're surprised by how collected his voice is, but the furrow of his brow is a giveaway that he's losing the battle to stay stock still inside you.

"Yes, please." You moan, unashamed. Spencer gently draws his hips back, pulling himself nearly all the way out before swiftly sliding back into your inviting cunt. He sets the pace slow and deep, his hands reaching up to lace through yours. Every time the head of his cock nudges that spot deep inside you, you can feel your toes curl. Your head slams back against the pillows, unable to keep your gaze on him any longer. You feel yourself becoming one with him, and you wish you could capture this moment somewhere other then just in your minds eye. Your memory is nowhere near as good as Spencer's, he'll be able to recall every detail of this moment up until the day he dies. But over time, this memory will fade for you. It'll wear out, all the details becoming fuzzy and blurred. If he's not here in front of you, you'll forget and you don't want to forget.

When the night draws to a close, and the moon has reached its peak, Spencer slips carefully out of bed. It chisels away pieces of his heart as he carefully gets dressed, reaching for his go bag which he'd brought inside upon realizing that he'd be staying a while. He pulls out a t-shirt he'd worn recently and leaves it folded neatly at the end of your bed, something for you to hold onto when he's gone. Spencer's cheeks are wet with tears as he leans over and presses a kiss to your head.

"I love you." Is the last thing he whispers in the space between you two before he's gone again.

//

On the jet, Derek can't keep his eyes off Spencer and that helplessly broken look on his face. A book is laid nestled in Spencer's lap, but Derek can tell he isn't really reading it. Trying to bother Spencer into opening up probably won't work, but it's worth a try. Derek has to do something and this is all he can think of.

"You okay kid?"

"Yeah fine, why?" Spencer draws his eyes up from the book, his gaze meeting Derek's from across the table. While Spencer might be a talented actor, he can't lie to Derek.

"Look I know how hard it must have been leaving her again-"

"Did you know that on average the FDA allows a minimum of 1 rodent hair per 100 grams of peanut butter? They have to allow themselves room for error just in case of-"

"Alright you win, forget it." Derek sighs, turning his gaze out the window. In an instant Spencer drops his peanut butter spiel, turning back to his book. A guaranteed way to get people off his back is to start rambling about something boring or gross, they usually leave him alone pretty quickly. It's not that Spencer doesn't appreciate Derek's concern, he just doesn't want to talk about it. He can't talk about it, because every time he imagines how you're going to feel when you wake up, tears come to the surface of his eyes. He hates this case more than all the rest even though they saved the victim. Spencer hates this case for ripping open an old wound, one he thought healed.

He was wrong.

//

When you wake the next morning you knew he'd be gone. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you reached over and felt cold sheets. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you cried how much you loved him over and over again even though he couldn't hear you. It doesn't change how badly this hurts, how much worse it feels compared to the first time he left. Your eyes catch the shirt folded at the end of the bed and you grab it instantly. You pull it over your body and you lay down in your bed, inhaling his cologne that you know will fade over time. Eventually his scent will disappear, removing all traces that this fabric belonged to him at all. Every trace of him will disappear over time, every mark from your body will slowly vanish. When it's all gone, you'll be left with nothing more than a t-shirt that's too big for you, and a cold reminder that the man you love will never truly be yours. A reminder that every time he comes home, he leaves again.

A cold reminder that this world is cruel for bringing you Spencer Reid, only to rip him from you again and again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer x y/n #spencer x you

[crossbowking]

More Than Anything (Part 2)

(Click HERE to read More Than Anything Part 1)

Summary: (Set mid-season 6) The reader’s feelings towards the archer evolve, but a supply run that goes south threatens to destroy it all.

Request: “I’d love to see something w protective Daryl and some angst, maybe set at the start of their time in Alexandria w an established relationship?” - @pulplorrd

A/N: See, you'd think I would've learned after making you guys wait a year and a half for No Way Out Part 2, that I should probably FINISH my stories before actually posting the first part...yet, here we are, one month later lol I'm sorry for the wait but hopefully it's worth it!

Happy reading and let me know what you think :)

xx Jess

Masterlist

Tip Jar

Previously...

But as its grasp slipped away from around Tara’s arm, the walker’s deadweight, in turn, collapsed against you.

You lost your footing and fell backward.

Except the solidity of concrete never rushed up to meet you.

Instead, you were embraced by water, the tarp that’d laid across the motel pool coiling around your body as you sunk deeper and deeper into nothingness.

Now...

When the world ended, you’d accepted the idea of death — your death, specifically.

You knew that one day, your life would undoubtedly end — most likely at the hands of the dead, ripped to pieces, torn to shreds, the way so many others before you had been taken. But you’d always hoped your death would at least mean something — maybe laying your life on the line, sacrificing yourself so the people you loved could survive.

Something noble, something brave.

Not like this.

Before the fall, you’d managed to inhale a sharp breath — though once you’d submerged into the grimy pool water, the coldness, the darkness, the shock of it all, had zapped the air right out of your body. You were becoming increasingly aware of the tightness in your chest, the burning in your lungs as you struggled against the walker pressed against you, its weight sinking you further into the depths of the pool.

Then, the panic set in — your heart pounded against your ribcage, right alongside the immense pressure crushing your lungs. Glimpses of sunlight hung just above you, peeking through parts of the drifting tarp you frantically attempted to push aside. You were completely disoriented, your vision obscured by the murkiness surrounding you, floating specks only visible beneath the shattered light above.

When your back connected against the bottom of the deep end, you managed to wriggle out from under the dead’s listless body — though the tarp remained twisted around your limbs. No matter how hard you fought, how hard you struggled, you couldn’t free yourself from the suffocating material. You could’ve sworn you were caught in a dream, your movements lagging and sluggish as you thrashed beneath the surface.

It felt as though someone had reached their hand directly through the center of your chest, squeezing your insides in a vice-like grip. A tingling sensation crawled down your spine, settling atop your churning stomach as the throbbing behind your ears began to slow.

You were listening to your last heartbeats.

It became unbearable, the water threatening to force its way past your clamped lips, the simple need to breathe. A sharp stab of pain shot through you as the blackness in your vision intensified, pulsing reddish-white around the edges as the fire in your chest consumed you at last.

Then, with nothing else left to do, you inhaled.

You weren’t sure what happened next — everything felt faint and fuzzy and quiet. The darkness that lingered no longer struck fear in you — instead, it was warm, enveloping you in its arms like a long-lost lover. The silence was soothing as you drifted in the emptiness, like careless whispers and forgotten melodies. You were weightless, you were freed, you were everything and nothing all at once.

You were dying.

That you were sure of.

Yet much to your surprise, you weren’t afraid — no, instead…you felt at peace.

But the brevity of calm didn’t last as you were suddenly aware of a vague pressure, though it wasn’t all-consuming nor constant. It was distant at first, a feeling you could’ve easily brushed aside had it not begun to gradually grow in force, in vigor — a steady pounding, coming from the center of your chest, over and over again.

The warmth around you began to splinter, shattering like shards of glass, the fallout piercing your skin as it collapsed around you. The pain was deep and burning and you longed for just a moment ago when all you felt was the sweetness of oblivion. The pressure pounding against your chest increased, becoming the sole thing you could feel, the only thing you could focus on, the unwavering thuds drawing you back from whatever place you’d drifted off to.

In the next moment, you were awake.

Your body flailed, jolting upright, but you’d only managed to get an inch or two off the ground before water began to suddenly spurt from your mouth. Your eyes squeezed shut as you choked on the liquid, every nerve ending in your body red-hot. You were vaguely aware of hands, rough and calloused and familiar, gripping onto your arms and forcing you onto your side, the motion allowing the water leaving your lungs to flow easier.

You gasped a constricted breath, coughing harshly on the exhale, completely and entirely disoriented as to what in the fuck just happened. Your chest tightened as you spit up more water, your throat closing around the sensation as you fought for control of your breathing, the feeling of concrete against the side of your body grounding you.

When your coughs finally died down, the same hands from before grabbed onto your arms, pulling your deadweight upright, maneuvering your limp body as if you were a rag doll. You blinked your bleary eyes open, wincing from the sunlight directly above as you drew in shaky breaths.

And then you saw him.

Daryl knelt in front of you, his ragged breathing mirroring your own, soaking wet from head to toe. Strands of hair stuck against his forehead, droplets of water still dripping from the ends as he stared at you, wide-eyed, his expression a mixture of horror and shock — something you rarely witnessed when it came to the archer.

He was mouthing something — no, he was shouting something — but you couldn’t hear him. You couldn’t hear a damn word he was saying as you sat there, dazed and confused, wondering if what just happened actually happened.

His hold around your arms slipped away, his hands cradling either side of your face instead, tilting your head up and brushing your drenched hair back. He leaned forward a fraction, frantically studying your features, his haunted eyes bouncing back and forth between your own as though making sure you were there — really there.

The silence was becoming a little less resounding, the world around you gradually seeping back, though muffled and dull — but the way Daryl was looking at you, the apprehension in his gaze, shook something loose inside you. Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. You wanted to tell him it was okay — that you were okay — but damn it, why couldn’t you speak?

So instead, you slowly lifted your hands, weakly grasping onto Daryl’s wrists, the small motion all you could muster — you had to let him know you were here. He glanced down at your hands, a small huff of relief escaping him.

But when he looked back up, you noticed the moisture that’d built in the corners of his eyes.

Daryl’s hands slipped behind your head, holding you still as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead gently against yours.

You, on the other hand, silently thanked whatever God or higher power was out there for giving you one more moment like this.

When the archer pulled back, you spotted a red streak smeared across his forehead that hadn’t been there before. Your brow knitted together as he sat back on his haunches. You tried clearing your throat, the sensation burning the rawness that’d spread. “You’re —” you croaked, your voice sounding foreign. “— you’re bleeding, D.”

Daryl’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he lowered his gaze and unsheathed his hunting knife. “It ain’t mine,” he rasped, suddenly slicing a long strip of fabric off from the bottom of his dampened shirt and balling it in his fist, ringing out some of the water.

Before you knew what was happening, he was reaching forward, pressing the material gingerly against your forehead and wrapping it behind your head, tying the strip into a knot to keep it in place. You were surprised at the sting of pain you felt, unsure when you managed to cut your head open in the midst of what had happened — everything was still sort of…fuzzy.

The sound of a car door slamming drew your attention. You peeked out of the corner of your eye, spotting Tara jogging towards you, the car you’d driven to the motel running idle in the parking lot.

“They’re coming!” she called out, motioning towards something just behind Daryl.

You craned your neck, attempting to get a look, but before you could, the archer was looping his arms beneath your armpits and hefting you up to your feet. The world tilted unsteadily around you, and had it not been for Daryl’s hold, the ground would’ve surely rushed up to meet you.

“I got ya,” he rasped, slinging one of your arms across his shoulders, his grip snaking around your waist.

Tara appeared at your opposite side, slightly out of breath. “Welcome back, chicka,” she shot you a slightly strained smile before following Daryl’s lead and winding your other arm across her shoulders, keeping you propped upright between them.

You wanted to tell them you were fine, that you were more than capable of walking on your own — but your strength had depleted, your legs shook beneath you, and the shock was beginning to wear off, making all the little aches and pains in your body alarmingly obvious.

Then, you were moving.

They half-dragged, half-carried you across the stretch of concrete, hurrying towards the parking lot where Tara had left the car. You peeked over your shoulder, managing to get a glimpse of what you were leaving behind — the small herd from earlier had been taken down, their bodies splayed out sporadically on the other side of the pool. Some sporting knife wounds, others bullet holes. The pool itself was rippling, the water sloshing back and forth, air bubbles visible at the surface.

Some of the dead had followed you into the water.

Just beyond the pool, you spotted exactly what you were running from — another herd, three times the size of the first one, ambling in from the woods behind the motel, most likely drawn in by gunfire.

When you reached the car, Tara slipped away and jumped into the driver’s seat. Daryl flung open the back door and maneuvered you carefully inside. You grimaced as you inched further into the car, only stopping once your back was pressed up against the opposite door. The archer quickly slid in after you and slammed the door shut, grabbing onto the back of the driver’s seat as Tara peeled out of the parking lot.

The silence that followed rang heavy.

Your heart hammered against your chest, your breaths coming out slightly wheezy, almost like there was still some water left in your lungs. You met Tara’s eyes in the rearview mirror before she focused back on the road — you noticed then that the sleeves of her shirt, up to her elbows, were wet.

She’d helped drag your body out of the pool.

You glanced over at Daryl, the archer’s grip on the driver’s seat white-knuckled as he stared at the back of the headrest. Waves of tension rolled off him, the feeling nearly palpable. But his eyes flickered towards you a moment later, as though he felt you watching him, and some of the rigidity faded.

He wordlessly shuffled closer, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the door you leaned against. You were too tired and too sore to object, your body slumping against his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders — you thought for a brief moment that he was hugging you.

But instead, he wound your seatbelt around your body and locked it in place.

Daryl fell back against the seat beside you with a huff, keeping his gaze focused ahead, staring straight through the windshield. He didn’t look at you again — he remained still, like he was carved from stone. You weren’t even sure he was breathing. His arm just barely grazed the side of yours, but despite whatever hidden turmoil was surely happening inside of him, he made no effort to move away.

He needed time to process what happened — what almost happened.

But so did you.

You shifted, closing the small gap between you and resting your head against his shoulder, ignoring the way he stiffened. The material of his shirt was still damp and smelt like a mixture of chlorine and mildew from the murky pool water, but you couldn’t find it in you to pull away either.

You hadn't realized you’d dozed off until the archer gently shook you awake, the car now parked outside Alexandria’s makeshift infirmary.

You still felt weak and lethargic, but you managed to make your way inside without any help — although Daryl, silent and stoic as ever, remained at your side, his hand hovering over the small of your back.

The infirmary was quiet as Denise checked you over — Tara had gone to update Rick and the others on what happened, as well as distribute the supplies you’d managed to bring home. Daryl, on the other hand, paced — back and forth, like a caged animal, on the opposite side of the room. Almost like part of him desperately wanted to run, but a bigger part of himself needed to be there.

“Are you feeling any nausea? Confusion? Loss of basic motor skills?” Denise suddenly asked, breaking the silence that’d stretched on, looking up from the textbook she was reading from. She’d never dealt with an ‘almost drowning’, but had been able to scrounge up some old medical textbooks for help.

“Uh,” you cleared your throat, shaking your head once. “No. No, nothing like that.”

“Okay, good. Yeah, that’s good…” she murmured, mostly to herself, before flipping to the next page and skimming the stretch of words. “Besides your forehead, any other lacerations?” she looked up at you once more, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“I don’t —” you shot Daryl a look, but he was too busy pacing to notice. “I don’t think so,” you shook your head again, your fingertips ghosting over the bandage Denise had patched your head up with.

“Good, good. We’ll want to keep an eye on that in case of infection,” she informed before flipping to the next page, mouthing the text to herself. “Okay, and any soreness?”

You grimaced as you sat up a little straighter. “Just — just right here mostly,” you admitted, motioning towards your center, below your chest.

Denise shut the textbook and placed it on the metal table you sat on top of. “Can you show me?”

Your brow knitted together but you obliged, sliding off the table and grabbing the hem of your shirt. You fought back a wince as you rolled the material up, stopping just below your chest, exposing your skin.

The first thing you noticed was the way the room suddenly stilled — you glanced up, spotting Daryl standing frozen across the way, pacing no longer. But he wasn’t staring at you — he was staring at your midsection, a look in his eyes you’d never seen before.

When you lowered your head, getting a good look at yourself for the first time, you realized exactly what he was seeing.

Bruises. Dark and discolored. Scattered down your sternum and along the center of your ribcage.

Your head snapped up at the sound of the front door slamming shut.

And Daryl was gone.

You tried to ignore the pinprick of tears that grew, the hurt that settled across your chest as you lowered your shirt back in place — but when Denise suddenly reached out and placed her hand on top of yours, patting it softly, your features crumpled.

Everything that happened seemed to catch up to you in that moment — the fear, the shock, what Daryl must’ve felt pulling your unmoving body out of the water. You’d nearly died. What would’ve happened if he hadn’t been able to bring you back? Would he have been the one to put you down when you undoubtedly turned? Or would Tara have done it — the act far too painful for the man you loved to follow through with.

The man you loved.

Denise wrapped her hand around yours, squeezing gently and drawing you back. “Hey, it’s okay,” she soothed.

You quickly swiped at the tears that slipped down your cheeks, huffing a hitched breath. “I know, I’m just —” you glanced up at the front door, hanging onto the foolish hope that it’d swing open once more. “I don’t know,” you finally mumbled, albeit defeatedly.

Denise followed your gaze, scoffing slightly. “Men suck,” she finally shrugged.

You sniffled softly before shaking your head. “Not that one,” you murmured fondly.

Denise squeezed your hand once more, shooting you a sympathetic smile before she pulled away. “It could’ve been worse — most people who have CPR done on them end up with broken ribs or punctured lungs. You, my friend, are one of the lucky ones.”

You inhaled a deep breath, fighting back a wince, the motion stretching your bruised body. “Thank you. For everything.”

Denise nodded before taking off her glasses, using the hem of her shirt to clean the lenses. “Y/N, I don’t mean to overstep my boundaries, but,” she paused, sliding her glasses back on as she regarded you seriously. “You smell like a sewer rat.”

You faltered, completely caught off guard by her statement before remembering that you were still wearing damp, swampy, pool water clothes. Then, despite everything, a laugh slipped past your lips, breaking the tension. You let out a hiss as the movement sent a wave of pain through you. “Ow, fuck, don’t make me laugh,” you bit back another chuckle, lightly swatting her arm.

Denise smiled before motioning towards the door. “Go home, shower, get some rest — Doctor’s orders,” she grinned, turning away and beginning to clean up her workstation.

You thanked her again before hobbling out of the infirmary.

As night drew near, most residents of Alexandria were already in their respective homes — you were grateful for that. You didn’t want to see anyone right now, their worry and endless questions something you were more than happy to put off until tomorrow.

When you made it back to the apartment you and Daryl shared, you were, yet again, fighting back feelings of disappointment — he wasn’t home. You felt a pinprick of worry, but knew he needed time and space to process whatever it was he was feeling.

And when he was ready, you would be too.

You walked through the kitchen, the morning you’d shared earlier feeling like a lifetime ago — the pan he’d used to make eggs, now dry, remained sitting on the counter. The bedroom was untouched, looking exactly how it had this morning, just the way you’d left it. You grabbed a fresh set of clothes before making your way into the master bathroom attached, ignoring the bone-deep tiredness settling over you.

Showering was a good call — the warm water rained down as you scrubbed your body of the muck that clung to you, being extra careful not to get the bandage on your head wet or make any sudden movements. When you were finished cleaning up, you stood beneath the shower head for a few minutes, eyes closed, inhaling the steam around you with deep, calming breaths.

You were okay. You were alive. You were here.

You shut off the water, stepped out of the shower, and dried yourself off, gingerly patting down your chest and around your ribs, before slipping into clean clothes. You wiped away some of the steam that’d collected on the bathroom mirror before hanging up your towel, combing out your knotted hair, and brushing your teeth — the same routine you did every night.

The normalcy was soothing — you were already beginning to feel better, more like yourself. You were ready to put what happened behind you and move forward, sure to never take another day for granted.

But when you opened the bathroom door, ready to curl up in bed and doze off, all of your feelings from earlier came rushing back at the sight of Daryl.

Once again, he’d been pacing the length of the bedroom, only stopping after you’d entered the room, his gaze snapping towards you. He shifted his weight back and forth, opening his mouth before clamping it shut. You could feel his energy, rolling off his body in waves — tense, rigid, wild. He was struggling to say whatever was on his mind, only furthering his evident frustration. He flicked his hair away from his eyes, turning to face you head-on, clearly gathering up the gall to speak.

You took a small step forward. “Daryl —”

“Ya were blue,” he suddenly rasped, a fire in his gaze that wasn’t there before. “Tara was shoutin’ for ya an’ I — when I went in an’ pulled ya out, there wasn’t — I didn’t —” he huffed a breath in frustration, his face tinged red. “God, damn it, Y/N, ya were fuckin’ blue,” he finally growled, chest heaving, hands balled into fists at his side.

His anger wasn’t directed at you, but the situation itself, you knew that. But still, his words — or more so the emotion, the truth hidden behind them — had you recoiling from him, your heart breaking at the thought of what he’d seen, of what had run through his mind when he realized you weren’t breathing.

You couldn’t imagine how scared he must have been.

And that was what was beneath his outburst — not rage, but fear.

But he wasn’t finished with what he needed to say — if anything, he was just getting more and more worked up as he began to frantically pace once more. “This is why — I fuckin’ told ya — I didn’t need ya comin’ out there. I didn’t need ya on that run but ya — ya didn’t listen ta’ me an’ then —”

“I love you.”

Daryl stilled, mid-stride, his gaze widening as if all of the air had been sucked from his lungs.

You felt your face flush, the air between you so thick it could be cut with a knife. You hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but the words just sort of…tumbled out? And now, there they were, hanging between you. Part of you wondered if the archer could hear your heart pounding from where he stood — or maybe it was his heartbeat, synched up to yours.

You sputtered a soft breath, shaking your head in disbelief, trying not to panic because the last thing you wanted was for Daryl to look at you the way he was looking at you after telling him you loved him. “I’m —“ you took a breath, regarding him earnestly. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. And I promise — I promise — you do not have to say it back. Hell, you don’t even have to feel the same way,” you huffed an awkward laugh, but the noise hitched somewhere in your throat, betraying your words. You grew serious once more. “I just — I couldn’t have another night going by without you knowing. Not after what happened today,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, shrugging a shoulder up meekly. “So, I love you — I love you more than anything.”

You weren’t sure what sort of reaction you were expecting from him. But you absolutely refused to acknowledge the tiny part of you that secretly wished he’d swoop you into his arms, pull you close, tell you he loved you too — because that wasn’t Daryl. That wasn’t the type of man he was — and you were okay with that.

Because you hadn’t fallen in love with that type of man.

You’d fallen in love with the man standing shell-shocked in front of you.

You cleared your throat and stepped forward, moving away from the bathroom doorway. “The shower’s all yours,” you murmured, needing to break the uncomfortable silence that carried on.

You sidestepped around his frozen form, ignoring the way your legs shook like jelly beneath you as you made your way towards the bed. You took a seat on the edge of the mattress, keeping your back towards him, staring ahead at the blank wall in front of you instead.

After what felt like forever, the floorboard squeaked beneath the shifting of his weight, his footsteps growing faint as he slowly walked away and entered the bathroom, closing the door shut after him.

You strained your ears, listening for any movement beyond the door he’d disappeared behind — but you heard nothing. It was like you could feel him through the panel of wood between you — you could almost picture him, just standing there, trying to process whatever the hell was going on inside that mind of his.

A moment later, the shower turned on.

And you released the breath you’d been holding.

Exhaustion swept through you, the day’s events wearing you down. You carefully maneuvered yourself into bed, pulling a thin sheet over your body and settling onto your side. Your eyelids grew heavy, the sound of the shower lulling you to sleep despite the strange, sort of freedom your admittance had brought you, the feeling buzzing through your veins.

You didn’t regret your vulnerability — he needed to know he was loved, damn it.

When you heard the shower turn off, you snapped your eyes shut. You listened to the archer move about the bathroom until the door finally creaked open. He seemed to be just standing there, and you could’ve sworn you felt him staring at the back of your head as if he was gauging whether or not you were actually asleep. But a moment later, you heard his footsteps padding across the bedroom before the mattress dipped beneath him.

You held your breath, covers drawn to your chin as Daryl shifted in bed, eventually lying down beside you. Another beat of quiet passed, neither of you moving, nor breathing it seemed.

But then suddenly, you heard him speak, so softly you almost missed it. “I know ya ain’t sleepin’,” he rumbled.

The corner of your mouth quirked up — because of course he knew.

You sighed, shifting gingerly onto your back, the sheet pooling at your waist as you looked over at him. He laid on his side, facing you, propped up on his elbow. He was dressed in clean clothes, his hair still wet from the shower, pushed back out of his face.

He really was rather beautiful.

“Busted,” you smiled, though the archer’s expression remained solemn.

Ever so gently, he reached towards you, his fingertip grazing the material of your shirt, over your ribcage, below your chest, hovering the bruises that lingered. “Does it hurt?” he rasped, the mouth turned downward into a small frown.

You shook your head. “Not really.”

Daryl’s eyes met yours, his expression skeptical and knowing.

You never were a good liar.

“At least you didn’t break a rib?” you offered sheepishly, your lame attempt at a joke falling flat given the current audience.

But when Daryl’s features fell, a flash of what looked like guilt settling over his face, you placed your hand on top of his, resting them against your stomach. “Don’t do that,” you murmured, reading him like a damn book as you rubbed circles with your thumb over the back of his hand.

The archer grumbled something indistinct, staring down at your intertwined hands.

Your grip tightened around his. “I mean it,” you spoke, an edge to your voice, only softening when he looked at you instead. “You saved my life, D — that’s it. You can let go of anything else you’re holding onto.”

Daryl’s lip twitched as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, seemingly mulling over your words.

You were sure he’d hang onto whatever unnecessary guilt he carried — because that was just who he was — but eventually, he nodded once and settled down on his back, staring up at the ceiling. You were too tired to press the subject further so you curled into his side and rested your head against his chest, winding your arm across his midsection. His arm automatically wrapped around you, his fingertips trailing absently up and down your spine, sending shivers through your body.

You weren’t sure how long you laid like that, melting into the warmth he exuded, the steady pounding of his heartbeat easing you to sleep.

You’d nearly faded away when Daryl suddenly spoke.

“Did ya mean it?” he rumbled, the noise vibrating from deep within his chest. “What ya said before?” he grunted, his hand pausing at the small of your back.

You could’ve imagined it, but you almost felt the slight tremble of his fingertips against your skin.

You slowly pushed up onto your elbow, your faces mere inches apart. You searched his uncertain gaze, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Of course I meant it,” you whispered. “Every damn word.”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed, as though not entirely believing what you said could be true.

So you leaned forward, closing the remainder of space between you, and pressed your lips gently against his. He returned the kiss, a quiet desperation growing as one hand came up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb sweeping back and forth across your cheek. You broke away from the kiss, brushing his hair back before meeting his lips once more, settling your hand on his chest, feeling his heart racing beneath your touch.

When you pulled back, you noticed his skin flush, surely mirroring your own. He looked up at you, slightly breathless, a fondness in his gaze that sent your stomach somersaulting. He cleared his throat, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face. “Well, alright,” he finally resigned, accepting your answer to his question.

You snorted a breathy laugh, leaning forward and kissing his cheek before burrowing against him. A soft sigh slipped past your lips as Daryl’s hold tightened around you, as though afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t.

You closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of contentment, unsure how many more moments like this you, or anyone else for that matter, had left in this kind of cruel and harrowing world.

But for at least tonight, you could be at peace.

“I love you,” you murmured groggily, beginning to sink deeper into unconsciousness.

Right before sleep came, long after Daryl thought you’d drifted away, you heard him whisper three, simple words.

“More than anythin’.”

Then he pulled you closer and the world dimmed.

A/N: Aw...a happy ending! (I figured I owed ya after putting y'all through Honey & Whiskey lol)

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