#Thank you for giving me a chance to zone out and think about these guys for a bit ^^

[sinnabarmoth]

Under the Weather

Pairing: Sylus x Fem|Reader

Prompt: Mini fic of Reader being a soft!dom with the lads. (Not necessarily sexual, just sweet 'let me take care of you' vibes)

Word count: 1k

Links to the other lads: (Rafayel) (Xavier) (Zayne)

“Miss! You have to come over right away! He won’t listen to anyone else we fear. Please come as soon as you can!” Was the message that Luke and Kieran had left on your phone. Panicked that Sylus was doing something stupid and reckless, even for him, you sped over to the N109 zone as fast as you could.

You pulled up to the mansion and rushed inside. “Luke, Kieran, what is it? What’s going on with Sylus?”

“He’s back in his bedroom,” Luke said, “He won’t let us in.”

“But what happened?”

“You just need to see for yourself. Please, you’re our only hope.” Kieran ushered you back to Sylus’s bedroom.

You were scared about what you may end up finding on the other side of that door. Whatever Sylus was doing that had the twins this concerned couldn’t be good. You took a deep breath and knocked. “Sylus? Are you in there?”

“Go away.” he called through the door but he didn’t sound right.

“Not a chance, babe.” you opened the door but didn’t immediately see him. “Sylus?”

“I said to go away.” you turned toward the bathroom and found your boyfriend sitting on the floor, his face pressed against the seat of the toilet. When he saw you he groaned. “I told them not to call you.”

“Are you…are you sick?” you knelt down next to him and felt his forehead. “Oh god, Sylus, you’re burning up.”

“It’s just a cold. I’m fine.”

“Uh huh, just a cold. That’s why you’re in here hovering over the toilet.” you rolled your eyes. “Have you even taken any medicine?”

His frown deepened. “For the love of--” you stood up and rifled through his cabinets and pulled out some fever and flu medicine. “Take these.” you put the pills in his hand and got him a cup of water. “Drink.”

He must not have had the energy to fight you because he did as you commanded without even a little pushback. Any other time he was such a brat. This fever must be really hard on him. “Keep drinking, we don’t need you getting dehydrated.” you kept the cup to his lips, not stopping until he had drank everything.

“Thank you. I’ll be fine now.” he said.

“If you think you’re getting rid of me that easily you are sorely mistaken.” you grabbed a small hand towel and soaked it in cold water. You pressed it against his burning face and you saw the way he sighed in relief. “Honestly, I’m kind of surprised you can even get sick.”

“I’m just full of surprises.” he sighed. For someone who was already pale he looked positively pallid now.

“Come on, let’s get you to the bed.” you helped pull him to his feet, taking it slow so his legs didn’t give out underneath him. As gently as you could you set him back down on the bed and pressed the cool towel to his forehead. You then grabbed a trash can and set it next to the bed just in case he had to puke.

“My poor guy,” you grabbed another towel and started wiping away the sweat on his neck. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?”

“I was handling it.” he said.

“Very poorly. If you weren’t already sick I’d punish you for taking such poor care of yourself.” you sat next to him on the bed. “You don’t need to be embarrassed about needing help, Sylus. If I was sick and I tried to hide it from you, how would you react?”

He closed his eyes. “I’d say you were an idiot.”

“Exactly. And now, I don’t want to have to take advantage of a sick person but desperate times call for desperate measures. Until you are feeling well again I am in charge of you. Understood?”

A breath of a chuckle left him. “Yes, kitten.”

“Good. Have you tried eating anything yet today?”

“Been a bit preoccupied.”

“Got it. Be right back.” you went out to the kitchen and started rifling through the cabinets, finding some instant oatmeal and bananas. You assured Luke and Kieran that you had Sylus well in hand and that they didn’t need to worry about him. They both looked relieved. They cared about their boss so much, it was cute.

You also quickly brewed some tea and brought the tray of food back to his room. “This should be easy enough on your stomach.” you set the tray down on the bed and spooned some oatmeal up. “Open.”

“Feeding me now?”

“If you want to do it yourself--” he cut you off by licking the spoon clean. “That’s better.”

You kept feeding him bites of oatmeal and giving him sips of tea until some of the color started to return to his face. “Looks like the medicine is finally starting to kick in.” you replaced the cloth on his forehead for a fresh one. “Feeling any better?”

“Much. But I don’t know how much the medicine had to do with it.” he grazed your hand.

“The medicine helped plenty, but I’ll happily take the rest of the credit.” you reclined next to him, tucking yourself against his side. “I was really worried when the twins called me.”

“Apologies, kitten. I didn’t want to worry you.”

“I’m your girlfriend, it’s in my nature to worry.” you rested a hand against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. “Next time you’re feeling poorly, tell me. Okay?”

“Okay.” he closed his eyes. “I rather like having you fret over me. My kitten takes charge so gently. You can’t help being sweet, even when you’re being bossy.”

“I’d rather you do as I say because you want to rather than because I forced you. You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, as the saying goes. Or in this case I guess I’m catching crows.” you poked his chest. “Now get some rest, I’ll be right here by your side.”

“What if I get you sick?”

“Then we’ll be sick together and have to rely on Luke and Kieran to take care of us.” you chuckled. “But I wouldn’t worry about it. Just rest.”

“Fine.” he looped an arm around you, keeping you close to him. “And thank you.” he murmured before finally falling asleep.

You kissed his cheek. “Anything for you, my love.”

[somegrumpynerd]

What do you think about nicknames in the bad sans gang? Like for each other

Ooooo that's a good question, I hadn't thought about nicknames much actually :o

Killer loves calling Dust "dusty" and "dust bunny", mostly to be annoying. If it bothers Dust, he does a good job hiding it.

I could see Horror when he first joined taking a while to learn Dust and Killer's names and calling them like, "hood" and "target" in the meantime lol maybe he pulls those out sometimes as a joke (or in older brother mode I could see him calling them thing 1 and thing 2)

Horror gets called "big guy" a lot by Killer, it probably starts to spread until all three of them are doing it. It's by far the least insulting nickname he's been given since (gestures vaguely at the plot of horrortale) so he's chill with it.

I feel like Cross is too formal to give nicknames (at least at first) but he gets a lot of "crossy" and "soldier boy" in return (from Killer because he can't be normal). I could see Horror and Dust maybe calling him "kid" every now and then to annoy him.

Killer mostly gets a lot of "bastard" "lil shit" "pest" etc. Maybe "Kills" if they're all getting along for a bit.

[creamecafe]

hii could u write something for Dae-ho set in the mingle game and its basically just him protecting reader and always keeping them at his side. 🫶🫶🫶

"As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you"

Summary: What the request says

Pairing: Dae-Ho x GN!Reader (No pronouns used)

Warnings: fluff, comfort, pining

Word Count:

Author's Note: Thank you so much for requesting. I hope you enjoy!

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

It's a miracle that you have made it to the third game. You were sure you were going to die in the second game, but thanks to the team you had, you were more than determined to still stay alive

Out of all them, there was one that you kept looking at. Dae-Ho. You couldn't help but find him cute. This certainly wasn't the place to have feelings as you could die before telling him.

It was the same for Dae-Ho, trying to make sure everyone is ok and that the team survives. But it was something with you.

He felt safe with you, and wanted to protect you. Even if it meant giving his life for you.

The announcement for the third game came, you were worried, but wanted it to be over it. Dae-Ho noticed you being anxious and asked if you okay

"Are you okay?"

You stopped zoning out and looked at him with your heart pounding.

"What? Y-yes I'm ok thank you." Nodding trying to reassure yourself.

"I think this might be the last game I play in." You chuckled knowing deep inside you dreaded the idea

"Hey look at me."

You did as he said. "Don't say that, you have us."

He held out your hand to hold it. You looked at it and hesitated putting your hand out but you held it. A tight squeeze was given but not too rough. It was a sign of reassuring.

He gives you a smile and you did too not of full happiness but someone is here to care about you.

All of you guys were called for the game. You got up and stayed close to Dae-Ho. He looked back at you and nodded. You did the same.

It was the same, climbing up those colorful but dreading stairs to the next game. Every minute or two, Dae-Ho made sure you were right behind him.

You finally reached the game and saw a carousel in the middle with horses and so many doors of different bright colors for a Pre-K setting.

"Welcome to your third game." The woman's voice from the previous games you heard came on the speakers.

"The game you will be playing is Mingle. Let me repeat. The game you will be playing is Mingle."

Turning your head to look at Dae-Ho, he's already looking at you.

You quickly look away not to make the situation worse. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable as well.

"All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."

"Oh this game? We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging." Jung-bae exclaimed.

"Yeah. Instead of hugging, we go into those rooms" Dae-Ho mentioned.

"If the number is bigger than six, we'll get the additional people we need." Gi-Hun

And if it's less than that? You thought in your mind

"But what if it's smaller than five? Like three or four

You turned your head to Dae-Ho. It's like he read your mind exactly.

"No matter what happens, don't panic. Let's stay calm," Young-il nods. "We'll make it out together. Here."

Those words echoing in your mind, there wasn't enough time to doubt if your group would stick with you.

You've seen how quickly people are to turn against each other especially in the Red Light, Green Light.

But you're more than determined to stay alive, just to see Dae-Ho's face every chance you get.

Young-il puts the back side of hand out to form a truce. One by one, everyone is putting their hands on top of each other. You were the last one.

"Y/N. Are you in?" Gi-Hun asks.

Dae-Ho looks at you with worry in his eyes. You had no choice and no knowledge of trusting others in this game, so you put your hand out on top.

Dae-Ho becomes relieved at this.

"One, two, three. Victory at all costs."

Sighing at this with relief, you guys begin to spread out. The carousel is starting to spin

People scream out in fear. Lights go out and the light in the middle where horses out lights ups and music plays.

Children are singing about holding hands and ringing around.

Dae-Ho holds your hand lightly. He grazes your hand with his thumb. You don't look at him, as you fear you'll die doing so.

It suddenly stops. The number is 9. People are running out frantically pairing in groups of 9. Dae-Ho doesn't let go of your hand.

"We need 3 more." You said. Your group ran looking for 3 more.

A old lady, her son and another woman goes up to you guys.

"Are you guys 3?" Young-il asks

"Yes we're." The old lady nods frantically.

"Quickly we got to get into a room" Gi Hun exclaims

Your feet were starting to move, but the grip of Dae-Ho holding your hand made you move even faster.

All of you guys rushed into a room and closed the door. The room was filled with heavy breaths. There was a click on the lock meaning that the room was closed and nobody can get in or out.

Right now, you have never been more grateful to be alive in playing a game

It wasn't long before you heard gunshots, and it was safe to assume it was those who didn't pair up or get into rooms in time.

Now that you're safe, you look at Dae-Ho and he does too.

"Is everyone ok?" Dae-Ho asks

There was a lot of yes. That answer might change throughout the game seeing how long each of us might last.

The door lock clicked and you guys were allowed to come out. There were bodies on the floors and blood splattered. "Take off your mind off those bodies or you'll be one of them" Your mind was telling yourself.

"We got this" Dae-Ho talks to you

"We do" You smiled. Don't know how many smiles it will take to keep going, but you're ready to prove his point.

The game started again and the carousel spins. You hold out to Dae-Ho's hand.

Now the number was 4. Young-il grabs Jung-Bae and goes to find two more people. That's left Gi-Hun, Jun-Hee, Dae-Ho and you left.

There was no time to waste. All four you ran to a room and locked yourself in. Gi-Hun was looking around for Young-il. You pulled him back in.

The gunshots came again. The lesser the number, the more likely people will betray each other.

How long this game will last, you don't know. All you know is that you have people here to help you. Even if it's just one person, it makes all the difference.

The doors clicked and it was time for another round. The panic and adrenaline of it all keeps coming back. But Dae-Ho is making sure you're by his side, even if he may die in the game as well.

Six the group was. Dae-Ho said you and him were going to go and find another group. Luckily you did and you managed to still be alive locked in a room.

Now it all came down to the very last game. There were less people than the game started. You wanted to finish this for once and for all. While the carousel was spinning and music playing, you place yourself in movement ready to run and holding Dae-Ho's hand.

"2" The voice said.

It felt like time was going slow once it announced the number. Everybody is rushing to get into a room. Time's running out.

You felt a hand pull you back and you fell to the ground. Dae-Ho heard your scream and saw someone trying to stop you from going into a room. Someone else was already in the room that you guys were planning to go into.

Dae-Ho could go into the room and that would already make it two. But he's made it too far to leave you.

He ran and punched the guy that pushed you. He put you back on your feet and dragged the other guy out. He slammed the door shut and the timer just came to zero. The guy on the other side begs and bangs on the door.

A pink guard shoots him and the noises stop.

"Are you ok?" Dae-Ho rushes to you.

Still shaken at what happened, at the fact you almost died if it wasn't for him to save you, you nodded.

"Yes I am. Thank you."

There was a moment of silence between you too as you were catching your breaths.

The door clicked and you both came out.

"Y/N! Dae-Ho!" Both of your names were being called

Gi-Hun, Young-il, Jung-Bae and Jun-Hee run up to you guys and you all hug each other.

"I'm so glad you guys are ok." Jun-Hee smiles

You're also relieved that everyone else is fine and made it out alive. You could return back to the dorms.

Walking down back the stairs and into the dorms, everyone was mostly silent but some talked.

You ran up and tapped Dae-Ho on the shoulder.

"Hey Dae-Ho?"

"Yes Y/N?"

"You could have gone into the room where the other guy before you dragged him out, why didn't you?"

Dae-Ho took a pause before responding.

"I have lost many people when I was a marine, seen people get killed in front of me. I can't let it happen to you."

He starts to become close to you but not too close.

"As long as I'm still alive, I'll make sure you're fine. That's a promise I tend to keep Y/N."

Those words stuck with you. You could die in the next game, but right here at this moment is a reason to keep going.

Taglist:

@hobinistaworld

Navigation | Main Masterlist | Squid Game Masterlist | Kang Dae-Ho Masterlist | Join my taglist!

[chobunz]

── homie hoppin’ ( lhs, pjs, sjy, psh ) ּ 𓂅⋆ 📙

๑ Heeseung never wanted to believe the rumors about you around campus, to him you could never do wrong and he sees you as nothing less than an angel. But when his friends begin telling him about their nightly escapades with some “mystery girl” that sounds awfully familiar, he grows more suspicious of your true intentions you’ve been hiding all along.

pair: hyung line ㅊ f!reader, college au | warnings: pwp, smut, angst (kinda ??), hook-up culture, yn is the biggest fuckgirl omg (but she’s sooo cuntyy), humour, slut-shaming (not from the boys), daddy kink, oral (m + f. rec), mentions of running a train but it doesn’t happen lol, lots of s.x flashbacks, yn is so unbothered by everything 😴, unprotected s.x (yikes !!!) | teaser wc: 857

thanks to @leeechin & @pshbites for enabling this idea LOL, couldn’t have done it without them frfr. also here’s a silly little preview of what’s to come (it gets real MESSY in this sfdsfsd)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

heeseung was never really the type to ever engage in gossip or drama going around campus. he’d rather simply mind his business and keep it moving, it was useless to entertain it anyway— most of the rumors held zero truth or any proof to back them up. what does seem to grab his attention however, is your name being constantly brought up in almost everyone’s mouths. you were the talk of the whole school and it wasn’t anything good that was being said about the girl he’s been sleeping around with on and off for the past few months or so.

“oh you know about y/n? isn’t she the one who’s always bouncing from one friend group to the next ? i wouldn’t trust her around my man even for a second..”

“didn’t she let leehan hit it at that party last night ? that girl needs to be stopped, she’s always messing around with different guys..”

“wasn’t she just with eunseok last week ? he was telling me all about how him and sungchan took turns on her.”

he couldn’t believe half the stuff that was being said about you. not only was it just plain disrespectful, but it was also disgusting how some people could spew such fabricated nonsense as if you weren’t a real human being with feelings. heeseung knew you two weren’t exclusive but you’ve been seeing each other more frequently, which made him think he might have a chance to make things official. at least he thought so, until he saw you talking with one of his close friends, jaeyun in the library. you both were way too close for comfort and the way you were giving him those same bedroom eyes that you’d always flash at heeseung, made his whole body fill up with an unimaginable amount of rage.

you were quite popular and well known around campus, your charming persona and pretty face was the perfect combo to get anyone to fall head over heels for you. everywhere you went you’d turn heads, all the boys would be breaking their necks just to get a glimpse of you. the tiny skirts you’d always wear had their eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, which only made the other girls seethe in utter jealousy. the way you could command an entire room without even trying was a superpower in itself, you didn’t need to put in the extra work to get all the attention on you because everyone gave it to you automatically.

it wasn’t until heeseung began hearing more about his friend’s sex lives that he’d grow more suspicious of what’s really going on. he usually zones out and doesn’t really listen much whenever they talked about it, but since the movie they were watching wasn’t all that interesting, he began shifting his attention to his friends. jaeyun and jongseong were always bragging about how much pussy they’d get but they seemed to hyperfocus on one particular girl that seems to get brought up a lot in their conversations. jaeyun would say how she gave him the ‘most life changing head’ he’s ever received, meanwhile jongseong was describing how some girl he fucked a few days ago rode his dick like a grade A pornstar.

heeseung wasn’t adding much of his input into the conversation, and neither was sunghoon as he tends to keep that part of his life more private. but, what made him suddenly wanna jump up in his seat was when jaeyun was telling them how hot the girl looked when he fucked her from behind, she had a back tattoo and he thought that was the sexiest shit ever. he never specified exactly what the tattoo was, but he remembers that you also had one too. maybe he’s just reading too much into it ? could it really be you they were talking about ? nah.. there’s no way. he’s sure there’s plenty other women with back tattoos walking around campus, it simply could be an eerie coincidence. he knows he isn’t the only one that you’re sleeping with, but to mess around with his friends would be a new low for him. he wouldn’t know what he’d do if he were to find out that happened..

his worries would only worsen when he catches sunghoon smiling and faintly giggling at his phone about something, to which jongseong asks him what’s so funny. sunghoon simply shrugs it off and says it’s nothing, quickly locking his phone before he lifts up from the couch to announce that he’s going back to his dorm. they all exchange their goodbyes and wish him a safe walk back to his place. but when he left, he was walking in the direction completely opposite of his dorm, he was heading the exact same way it took to get to your building instead. now he’s really starting to overthink at this point. there’s absolutely no way you’re actually fucking all of his friends and he doesn’t have a single clue about it. heeseung may be quite oblivious at times but he isn’t that stupid. he’s probably overreacting. again, could just be a very weird coincidence… right ?

just leave a comment if you wanna be added to the taglist ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPxDC prompt: Hobby

"Think I'm getting butterflies, but it's really Something telling me to run away" Sub Urban & Bella Poarch

The years go by, and the Anti-ecto Laws that don’t recognize ghosts even animals are still there. And Danny is so tired of it. Even worse, ghost studies are becoming popular. And Danny’s getting sick of it. And he really needs a break. In general, the castle of good old Pariah Dark is potentially a good place to exist, right?

Well, Danny ends up in a perfectly normal civilian family ('cause of СPS or else) in Gotham.

The city is filled with fear, death, and also ectoplasm, which is fine, because it allows Danny not to run into the Ghost Zone for energy for his core. In fact, it’s really strange why so few ghosts are formed in such a comfortable place.

So, a new family. Although the head of family is a billionaire, Danny really wants to give them a chance. Even if he break out in a cold sweat when Bruce looks at him. Well, Fenton blames his past experience. Fuck you, Vlad. Waynes are really nice. And thanks to this adoption he'll be far away from Amity Park, safe from GIW, maybe finally feel like a human being. even if he's not.

So, Danny wants to know about them a little bit more. He has already noticed that Damian collects katanas, Tim is all about hacking, and Jason is obsessed with guns, and Bruce..hm, maybe he need to ask to find out:

Oh, that's explains a lot. Of course highly intelligent ghosts are afraid to settle in a city where one of the wealthiest people is a ghostbuster. That’s why there are so few ghosts in Gotham. Danny is such an idiot that he didn’t realize it before. Gothamites are odd. What if it's especially popular among local rich people? Even if it's not, according to rumors that Bruce’s a Batman's sponsor, Danny sure as hell screwed up. Hm, perhaps he should try to escape to the Infinite Realms through one of the Al Ghul's Pits if this guy Constantine will not answer to his call in a few more minutes.

[trinityobsessesovatings]

Oh My God~! {ARCANE REACTION}

ARCANE CHARACTERS' REACTION TO YOU IN THE VIRAL TIKTOK NIGHTIE!

characters included; VI, CAITLYN, SEVIKA, MEL, and PAP-i mean JAYCE

CONTENT WARNINGS: suggestive themes, cursing, first time writer probably bad punctuation 😔 and lowercase 😔

i would just like to say; thank you to anyone who gives this a chance and reads it! this is my first time actually like, posting anything like this so this is completely out of my comfort zone. feedback is so very much appreciated.

enjoy! 🥰

////////

vi 

speechless pt.1

girl was cooking you guys a nice lil dinner 

i headcanon that she’s actually an amazing cook

i mean she got music playing in the background on low, the lights in y’all little apartment are dimmed

it wasn’t a special occasion or anything she was just feeling like y’all deserved it

she was in her little zone, humming along to song, bopping her head to the music, occasionally actually singing along to whatever she was listening to

then she hears your feet patting along the floor, when she turns around and sees you she deadass drops the plate that was in her hand

JAW DROPPED TO THE FLOOR

y'all know how she could NEVER stop looking from cait’s eyes to her kirammountains

YUH that was her with you, BUT ALL OVER!

you giggle to yourself, as you look at yourself in the mirror. ‘Oh yeah this is definitely gonna go somewhere!’ you thought to yourself, then proceeded to practically skip out of your bedroom.

CONGRATULATIONS YOU PLAYED YOURSELF!

you cute little nightie is ripped up and you guys are down one plate

congrats 😜

caitlyn

ever since your babygirl became a dictator i mean commander 🤭 sorry y'all 

she has been stressed and had to keep beating maddie off with a stick

she’s pulling the pearl; “I’M MARRIED!” 👹

so you decided to pull the classic show up to her place of work covered in a overcoat

caitlyn already knows what you’re up to and she definitely wants that cookie

she saw the nightie in your drawer the other day

but she’s still gonna let you have your moment

“I got something to show you, baby.” 

you tell her being all… seductive, prepared to surprise your girl.

she deadass hit you with a

“that’s nice, love!” 😊

you’re not impressed 😐

that’s alright though you got something for that ass

guess she just has to make it up to you for ruining the surprise 🤷🏾‍♀️

sevika

stress pt 2

speechless pt 2

half of me wanted to make this based off before she joined the council

but i said NAH make it post war councilwoman sevika

anyway

this WOMAN 😩 stay coming home about ready to crash out after having to deal with the other idiots on the council

this poor woman comes home, grabs a bottle of liquor, and lights a cigar

not before cracking a window though, you got on her for that shit and she would rather not face your wrath again

happy wife, happy life am i right or am i right?

ANYWHO

big mama doesn’t even know your home, it's so damn silent

then you strutting into the living room hitting this pose right here

i’m talking; cigar falling out of mouth, bottle booze hitting the floor with a thump, and she’s standing up and walking towards you like she’s under a spell

i’m telling you if this woman wasn’t so speechless AND stoic

she for sure would have let out an “AWOOGA!”

y'all ended up breaking the couch by the way… and dining room table

mel

deadass… y’all had the same exact idea!

like same idea, same day, YALL EVEN GOT THE SAME EXACT SLEEP DRESS

but both of y’all were giggling at the fact y’all both thought the same thing

literally went something like this:

“I have something to show you!~”

you had called from the closet

“Well I have something to show you as well~!”

she would say from the bathroom

then bam you both see each other and are like 🤨🤭🥴💋

like y’all both went all out

mel got body gold shimmery body glitter on, you got your hair did that morning, you both got on each other’s favorite perfumes on…

yeah y’all both matched each other’s freaks fr

jayce

never in my time of watching this show did i EVER think i would write for this man

but pookie lowkey got me rn… that black fit he wore for like 10 minutes in that one episode

YEAH I NEED THAT, I CRAVE THAT 👹

let's get back to our regularly scheduled program sorry about that y'all 😰

so you and jayce have been locked in since BEFORE the whole hextech explosion

LAWD when you heard your man was in the system 

OPEN THE CELL LET MY MAN OUTTA JAIL

is what you were saying

you were at his hearing in front of the council

almost had a heart attack again when they almost banished him

but look at y’all now!

he the man of progress and you all like:

“dats mine” 😌

THEN he calls you talkin bout some

“oh i'm a councilman now.” 😊

that’s when you decided

“yeah it’s time to give this man the ULTIMATE gluck gluck 3000 with the hextech upgrade”

he comes home from his first day as part of the council and this right here

🧍��🥴

because there you are

lights dimmed

rose petals scattered

glasses of champagne

nightie ✅ floor length robe ✅ makeup on sultry ✅

yeah he laid it DOWN on you that night

ready to congratulate your man

next thing his mama, the kirammans, and the council know:

he and his NOW fiancée are expecting

CONGRATULATIONS 🥳

////////

hope you enjoyed! ○( ＾皿＾)っ Hehehe…

[hysteria-things]

you should do a story of like chris and the reader play like an adult card game. it just randomly appeared in my head i hope it’s not out of ur comfort zone 😭 also i love ur writing and stories sm!

CARDS

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub/dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: everybody goes off to bed except for you and chris. you find a card game and decide to play, not knowing what it has in store.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, drinking, tied hands, blindfold, teasing, oral (male receiving), degradation, p in v, cream pie, unprotected sex (no bueno!)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,445

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: THIS IS MY FAVORITE REQUEST SO FAR! nothing is out of my comfort zone anon, don’t worry😘 (and thank you for the compliment!)

shoutout to this game that randomly appeared on my tiktok to give me this idea.

enjoy ;)

“i think i’m going to head off to bed.” nick announces, stumbling his way to his feet.

you, the triplets, nate, and madi decided to rent out an airbnb for a weekend getaway. it’s rare when you guys have free time.

you all have been drinking and talking for the last three hours. nate and madi went off to bed about an hour ago, and nick stepped out of the living room.

“i’m going to go too.” matt says a few seconds later. “we got a busy day tomorrow.”

that leaves you and chris left as you two wave goodbye to his brother. there's no doubt that the group is at least a little tipsy.

“you can go to bed too, if you want. i’m sure i’ll be gone soon.”

chris shakes his head. “i’m good right now.”

you scan your eyes around the room until you land on a shelf that’s next to the TV. there’s a handful of games on them, but one sticks out to you. it’s a red box.

you get off of the couch and walk over, taking the box and studying it. there’s a black cat on it, and underneath it says ‘pussy out.’

smirking, you hold up the box so chris can see. “want to give this a try? it says it’s for 3+ players, but we can make it work.”

he laughs. “sure. bring it over.”

you go back to the couch and set the game on the coffee table, laying it all out and reading about how it works.

the group goes in a circle and picks a card. you can either do what the card says or take however many shots it displays on the bottom of it. easy enough.

“i’ll go first,” you say, picking the card that’s the first on the deck.

let the group see your my eyes only on snapchat.

or…

pussy out.

two shots.

“sorry, no.” you start, shaking your head and grabbing the vodka bottle that you guys have on the coffee table. “i’m not doing that.”

chris looks amused. “why not? you have nudes and shit in there?”

“no.” you lie. you pour two shots and drink both. you gag at the alcohol going down your throat.

chris sighs, taking the next card.

wild card!

all leo’s take a shot.

this is your chance to be the center of attention.

he groans. “this shit is so not fair.”

you laugh now. “you heard it. bottoms up, sturn.”

he glares at you before downing one drink. you stare at the card in your hand, a little taken aback.

passionately kiss the player to your right.

or…

pussy out.

four shots.

chris is technically across from you, but it’s the same difference, right?

you bite your lip and slowly crawl over to chris. he glances at your eyes and lips a few times before you lean in and kiss him.

your mouths move in sync with the sound of your lips smacking together. you invite his tongue into your mouth.

you kiss for a few more seconds before pulling away.

both of your lips are red and you clear your throat. “y-your turn.” you stutter.

chris quickly reaches for his second card.

choose a player to spit a shot into your mouth.

or…

pussy out.

three shots.

he reaches for his shot glass and pours the liquid into it. you smirk at his cowardliness. this card isn’t so bad.

“you going to spit in my mouth, or what?”

your eyes widen, staring at his hand that’s holding the glass in front of you.

“o-oh.” you stammer, taking it from him. “um, yeah. sure.”

you pour the vodka into your mouth and hold it there. you grab chris’s jaw lightly as your noses touch. his mouth is already open for you, and you spit the alcohol down his throat.

you pull away as he swallows. for some reason, none of this feels awkward. it feels like young adults having a good time.

both of you let out giggles when you take a card.

wild card!

do whatever your heart desires to a player. if not, you have to take three shots.

(come on, you know you want to)

chris brings his hands to the back of his head and grins. “you heard it. bottoms up, y/l/n.”

you snarl at him using your words against you. “no. put your hands together.”

he raises his brow but obeys. you grab two black pieces of fabric you found and turn to him.

you bite your lip as you tie his hands.

“so… what are you doing, exactly?”

“you’ll see,” you reply, taking the other piece of fabric and putting it over his eyes.

his chest heaves as you straddle his lap and slowly graze your hands over his chest. “y/n—”

you cut him off when you start to roll your hips. his mouth is agape, groans leaving it each time you move upward on his now growing erection.

“y/n— fuck. don’t tease like that.”

you shush him as you move yourself so you’re straddling his calves. you take off his shorts to see pre-cum already leaking through his underwear.

you rub his dick through the piece of clothing, a moan and hiss leaving his lips.

“you want my mouth, handsome? you want my mouth wrapped around your needy cock?”

he whines and nods vigorously. “god, yes, please.” he pants.

you hum, kissing his twitching dick a few times before finally letting it spring free.

you grab the base; your small hand doesn’t fit around it. you start to kitty lick the tip and move your hand up and down.

he moans, his hips thrusting upward at the sudden contact.

you suck at what’s coming out of his tip before moving your head down, gagging when it reaches the back of your throat.

bobbing your head at a fast pace, chris wiggles and whines from underneath you. the sound of you sucking his dick also filling the room.

“shit, wait.” he exhales. “please. i need to fuck you so bad. need cum inside your pussy. please.”

you grip his thighs when he starts thrusting up into you.

you lift your head before it gets too much and cough. he’s panting as you move your face up to his ear, untying both his hands and the blindfold as you speak. “then do it.”

he flips you over in milliseconds, your back now against the couch. he tears off your panties, the elastic ripping against your skin causing you to yelp. he doesn’t bother to remove your shirt and skirt; he just needs you so badly.

chris gives you no time to adjust when he starts to plow into you so fast that the couch moves with each thrust.

“ch-chris! fuck!” you scream. “you’re f-fucking huge.”

he chuckles and covers your mouth to muffle your moans and screams. “you don’t want them to hear, do you? you don’t want them to hear how much of a whore you are; getting fucked by one of your best friends.”

it’s crazy how fast his demeanor can change. just a few minutes ago he was under your control, even though you hate being the one to take over.

he lifts your legs so they both are over his shoulders, which has him drilling into you deeper. luckily, he holds you in place. if he didn’t, you’d go flying off the couch.

you gasp in his hand and roll your eyes back, arching off the couch so he can hit just the right spot. you grip his hand and move it away from your mouth, not caring if the others can hear.

“o-oh, chris!” you grip his biceps, leaving crescent shapes on them. “i’m gonna— shit, i’m cumming.”

your legs start to shake as you start to spread your cum down his dick.

“look at me,” he demands. your eyes flutter back open and stare into his lust-filled ones. “you want me to fill your pussy? huh? you want me dripping out of you for the whole weekend like a slut?”

“mhm! please— please.”

he starts to rub your clit with his thumb, your eyes crossing at the pleasure washing over your body.

he thrusts a few more times before stopping deep inside you, feeling his orgasm fill you to the brim.

he grunts before pulling out, falling on top of you as you guys breathe in sync.

“can’t wait to spend $50 on plan b tomorrow morning.”

he laughs, kissing your jaw. “my bad.”

it’s no secret that you’ve always liked chris more than a friend, but it’s bizarre that having sex with him happened because of a crazy card game.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom

[ssavaart]

Scott! I’m an incoming college freshman going in for an art degree. What’s the best advice you can give to a little guy like me?

PS. Thanks for being so inspiring to me! :)

Hi. I don't know if this is the "best advice", but this is what I would tell 18 year old me if I could go back to 1987...

I know you like comic books and you want to be the artist on Spider-Man one day. But... use this time to learn about Art Nouveau and Impressionism and all of the OTHER wonderful kinds of art in the world. Also, I know you love ONLY colored pencils right now. And you're REALLY good at it and you want to make a good impression so you want to use a medium you know best.... BUT... take these 4 years to learn painting. Try new mediums. Experiment. Grow.

Don't look at the next 4 years like you HAVE to get good grades and you HAVE to make good art. Look at the next 4 years as a chance to finally focus ONLY on art and get exposed to other artists and styles and techniques.

Use this time to expand your worldview. Play. Have fun.

Your art can grow SO much if you just step out of your comfort zone and let yourself TRY something new.

That's what I would tell my 18 year old self in 1987 going to the Academy of Art in San Francisco.

I think I would have learned SO much more had I done that.

I hope that helps. And congratulations!

Sending Big Hugs from the Hobbit Hole. ♥♥♥

Scott

[kryptznnn]

♡/♛- It's Been A While

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➸ INTERESTS; -mha!shouta aizawa x quirk-using!freader

➸ BACKGROUND; - after an attack at the high school you studied in, you were requested by your work firm and the firm of that school to work as a teacher there for extra security, incase an attack were to occur again to protect the students (and teachers). Unfortunately, it won't be as easy as you expected when you rekindle with old friends, and a specific someone.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc. 2.1k uu slow burn, second chance, ex-lovers, medication/pill usage, dissociation, anxiety mentions.

➸a.i; - omg new category!! im working a lot guys brace w me!! ill be working on other masterlists and stories and such trustttt, also this is going to be a fanfic!! no more one-shots sorry for the torture

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♡/♛- It's Been A While Masterlist

"Please, there has to be some other way. I'm already busy enough here, this is way out of my league." You complained, tossing your hands up in the air.

"There is no other way" your supervisor responded, you sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"There's no one else available to take on this job?" You asked your boss, who only nodded as he sat at his table with crossed arms.

This was unbelievable, you of all people in this city and they choose you. You're one of the busiest women out there, especially outside of your so called 'once in a blue moon hero duty'. You're part of a government organization for fuck's sake, your entire job is to stay under wraps. You had people who depended on you, a firm to carry on your shoulders as second in command to your chief, just to give it all up to become a teacher back at your high school.

"As of now the school could use all the extended help they can get. You have connections to the school and have learned there before, plus all other heroes with solid quirks that would work in their favor are either already working there or are too busy to be there for hours on end, but you can." He said in a cool tone, handing you all of the paperwork and pointing to the amount of damage and casualties that happened during the accident, you only closed your eyes and shook your head.

"Okay" you said softly, picking up the papers and stacking them in order, placing them in your folder and shoving the folder in your work bag, not wanting to argue. He thanked you for your cooperation and told you you'd start the beginning of next week, Monday. Today was Thursday, giving you a little time to mentally prepare yourself for what was to come.

Of course, as any normal person you were curious, thousands of questions running through your mind which you were sure you'd get answers to during the tour and explanation that was awaiting you over the weekend.

You weren't too concerned about working or teaching students, you'd already knew all about them and had also known you'd cover a chemistry class, you were concerned about using your quirk.

The last time you had used it in the face of danger, things didn't end well for you. It's a great quirk yes, but the aftermath and side effects of it always left a heavy toll on you.

It truly was an accident, well not really. It was ruled out as a case of self-defense and your firm was to cover the damages. You were out with a friend from work until a large commotion was heard outside, where you two had stepped out, ready to leap into action and help whoever was in need.

Apparently, it was a hijack situation on a train in the city, that was now approaching downtown at an insane amount of speed. Your friend had already agreed she'd help escort people out of the way and into safer zones, in case the bus had crashed in the area you and hundreds of other people were in.

You nodded in response, quickly thinking what around you could've been useful to possibly slow it down or bring it to a stop in time to call for reinforcements.

Unfortunately, a child had wandered off into the middle of the road ahead of you without realizing it, and without thinking you ran up, covering her with your body and you held out your hand to shield her, shutting your eyes tightly and using your quirk.

Unintentionally, you had now turned the train into water, wetting you and all other people downtown that were trying to avoid the train crash. Thankfully for you the train was a rather medium sized one, so the water produced from the train by your quirk hadn't caused any damage downtown.

You quickly stood up with the little girl by your side, who quickly ran to accompany her mother once she spotted her in the crowd. You stood there in awe, looking at everyone else and turning back around, seeing the hijackers now sitting on the floor, dripping from head to toe in water.

You were slightly relieved, thankful you hadn't turned them into water. Soon after your friend accompanied you to, tying up the three troublemakers and leaving them off to the side and awaiting law-enforcement to arrive.

Having the powers of matter transmutation meant the world was your canvas, all you had to do was touch it. Creating any matter, you had into something you wanted to, but the only downside being that you weren't able to convert things to people or animals, whether living or not.

You didn't necessarily see it as a bad side, it honestly could be a blessing in disguise, especially since you had such a wild imagination when you were younger.

As you grabbed your belongings from your office and made your way back to your car you began to think about your first day working at the high school.

You loved children, well... most of them. Teenagers now were such pains in the ass, and you've had your fair share with a few, either being rude, weird, or just freaky horn-dogs that obviously weren't loved enough by their parents.

Hopefully things wouldn't go back when you start, and you didn't have to use your quirk as often as all other teachers in the school do.

Unlocking the door to your car you opened it and placed your bag inside as you sat in the driver's seat, starting your car and driving off back to your apartment.

After around 5 to 10 minutes of driving you stop at a red light, resting your head back onto your seat with a sigh, mentally drained for the day. As you waited for the light to change color you felt as if a pair of eyes were on you, before you were able to turn around and see who it was the light had turned green, you only shrugged it off and drove off, keeping your mind on how Monday would be.

Maybe it was the students or the teachers, but an uneasy feeling rested in your stomach, making you feel wheezy. It definitely was the thought of the teachers, more or so your new colleagues.

Well not new colleagues, more like old friends and companions. You knew them all well enough, being classmates and close friends back in high school and distancing after graduation and everyone else focusing on going professional in the hero department.

You had always envisioned yourself as a hero there, waiting to fight side by side with everyone, but towards the end you realized that without having proper control of your quirk you were probably safe enough to not do so. Protecting yourself and everyone else in case of an accident or any immediate dangers.

Guilt slowly began to eat you alive as you arrived in the parking lot of your apartment complex, parking and shutting your car off before taking a deep breath and exhaling sharply.

This was not going to go your way, and you know it.

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It was now Monday morning and honestly, that 3-day weekend wasn't enough to prepare yourself for what was to come. You hadn't gotten any sleep from the night before out of overthinking, and honestly you weren't even tired.

Your brain's constant buildup of stress has been keeping you up for a while and was the right amount of motivation you needed to get this day over with. You had gone to the small training practices and tours of the school over the weekend, seeing new buildings and practice rooms that were extended from when you previously attended.

You had decided to get ready 2 hours in advance, showering and now doing a small amount of skincare before doing your makeup. Even with your quirk and all of the stuff you'd bought for your skin, even the thought of stress makes you begin to breakout, you sighed as a pimple appeared on the upper left corner of your forehead. You only shook your head and began to apply your makeup, finishing a little later than you expected because you couldn't decide if you wanted lashes on or not.

You made the decision to wear them, first impressions are everything. You fixed your hair in a style you liked, deciding to keep it down instead of a ponytail with a side part and gathered your things and looked in the mirror one last time before exiting out the door.

The closer and closer you were getting to the school the more your stomach churned out of anxiety. It could've been anxiety, or maybe the fact you skipped out on breakfast just to be here early, as all teachers must arrive before the students. Whatever it was you didn't like it at all, and you felt your head begin to spin.

"Not again" you whispered to yourself, now opening your glove department looking around for your prescribed medications, pushing past the other 3 you didn't need now until you found one that read 'Valium', opening the capsule and taking a pill, realizing you had nothing to take or drink it down with.

You sighed heavily as you took the bottle with you, grabbing your coat from the back of your driver seat along with your bag and shoving the pills in your coat pocket. Soon locking your car and placing your keys in the bag as well, beginning to walk your way over to the building.

You needed to find something to drink so you could take this pill, before your anxiety gets the best of you and your quirk gets out of hand. You reached for your phone in your pocket and checked the time, barely 7:30, perfect. It's too early for classes to start when everyone gets situated at 8:00-8:10, where could you kill time with a cup of water or anyth-

The teachers' lounge, oh yeah, it's shocking how quickly you forgot about it when you were here not even 48 hours ago. You walked inside taking a left, praying your memory wasn't playing tricks on you as you walked over to the supposed teachers' lounge, hearing small chatter and commotion.

The last thing you wanted to do was draw attention onto yourself, you quickly entered and made your way to the back, walking slowly praying your heeled boots didn't make too loud of a noise.

You quickly spotted a large fancy water dispenser, clasping your hands together as you looked up and mouthing the words 'amen' before grabbing a small white silicon cup and pouring some for yourself.

In one swift movement you dug into your pocket, pulling out your pill bottle and opening it, taking one and placing it on your tongue as you closed the capsule, putting it back in your pocket. Your cup that was now filled with water you chugged down and refilled it to take another to attempt to flood out the aftertaste, until you were stopped.

Before you could lift the cup up to your lips you were immediately lifted into the air from behind, listening to a familiar voice cheer your name. You immediately went into a panic, turning your previous cup of water, now into nothing but sand, pouring over you and the arms around your lower waist.

"Hizashi!!" You shouted, now trying to pry yourself out of his grasp, your feet swinging in the air as he laughed, quickly putting you down. You immediately scoffed and dusted yourself off, rolling your eyes at his comments and horrible jokes, bending down to the small sand pile you created, forming it back into a silicone cup before throwing it away.

"It's good to see you again seriously, I'm surprised you agreed to come here seeing why you left, with your new fancy job and all." He said, placing his hand on your shoulder and pretending to wipe a fake tear, you only shook your head and smiled at him.

He hasn't changed at all since you last saw him nearly a decade ago, it warmed your heart honestly. You only responded in agreement to his saying, hugging him as he did back to you.

He wasted no time in bringing you to the other side of the teachers' lounge, where you reunited with old friends and shared a few laughs and nice memories before you were all abruptly stopped by hearing a loud slam of the door opening.

As luck would have it, you had another cup in your hand that had coffee in it as the incident occurred, but thankfully your medication had kicked in. You panicked as you nearly spilled the coffee onto yourself, taking a sigh of relief as you moved in time, spilling partial of it onto the floor. Smiling to yourself slightly as you felt the dosage of your medication now starting to affect your mind, making you disassociate.

As everyone paid their attention to the door and expressed words with one another you had bent over, using your quirk and making your coffee spill on the floor a small tissue.

You picked it up and turned to throw it away, completely blocking out the sounds of everyone's voices and small laughter as you made your way to the same trashcan as before, bumping into someone.

"I'm sorry" you said, snapping out of your small trance and zoning back into reality, turning your head to the side to see whose shoulder's you had hit, only to lock eyes with them instantly.

"Shota" you said, nearly breathless as if at a loss for words, he looked at you in shock,

No this wasn't shock,

It seemed to be sadness

maybe sorrow?

"Y/n" he replied, quickly looking away from you and walking away, your eyes trailed his figure as he left.

Out of everything that had happened this morning, and the effects of your medication, you completely forgot that your past lover worked here, and you'd be working alongside him.

He only went over to the coffee table, grabbing a cup and exiting the room, you only looked over to Hizashi and Nemuri, nibbling on your bottom lip. They glanced over to one another, then looked back at you, each placing their hand on each of your shoulders as the bell rang for everyone to get to class.

You were right, this wasn't going to go your way, at all.

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✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

[wannabespacesmuggler]

D.D. | Shane's Girl [5]

Part Five | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee | Check out the playlist

Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you’re forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Shane Walsh sucks

Word Count: 1.2K

Author’s Note: Thanks for the continued love on this lil fic. I love them. The connection they are creating with one another is so sweet and I cannot wait to continue writing for these two idiots. Shane of course continues to be a dick and will only get worse. We're getting closer to the start of the show. I won't be retelling the entire series in this fic. Just snippets of their life together -- the show will fill in the gaps in a way. Anyway, let me know what you guys think of this one, if you want to be added to the taglist, or just want to ask me a question.

Extras: Playlist

You don’t consider yourself a jealous girlfriend; however, as you watch Shane and Lori from across the camp, you cannot help the rage that begins to simmer in your chest. The feeling makes you nauseous. You adore Lori. She’s always been like an older sister to you -- the senior girl who took you under her wing during your freshman year of high school. So the problem isn’t Lori. No, it’s the way Shane is looking at Lori. His face practically lights up with affection and warmth as he listens to her -- a stark contrast to the Shane you’ve become accustomed to since the dead started walking. 

“Hey, uhm. Is everything okay?”

Glenn’s soft voice cuts through your rising temper, startling you. You look up at him with wide eyes for a second, before attempting to pull yourself together. If anyone in camp knew the exact thoughts running through your head right now, you’d be humiliated. You take a deep breath before giving Glenn a polite smile. 

“Of course. Why do you ask?”

Glenn shifts awkwardly on his feet. You haven’t really had a chance to get to know to know Glenn. You could probably count on one hand how many times the two of you have interacted since he joined the camp. For the first few weeks, you assumed he didn’t like you. However, Amy informed you that his avoidance is nothing personal -- it’s just that Shane terrifies him and you’re an extension of that fear. This seems to be a common problem for you around camp. People seem intimidated by you due to your proximity to the camp’s self-proclaimed leader. It’s infuriating and isolating. 

“It’s just… those are my favorite pair of jeans.”

You look down at the wash basin in front of you. You’d been so distracted by your own thoughts, that you’d completely forgotten about the clothes you were washing. As your mind continued to race, your hands began moving on their own accord with just as much ferocity. Your face flushes as you stare at Glenn’s jeans that you damn near scrubbed a hole into.

“Sorry, Glenn. Just zoned out for a second.”

Glenn gives you a kind smile, seemingly content with your answer.

“Don’t worry about it. Happens to everyone.”

He shrugs nonchalantly before wandering off towards Dale. You let out a relieved sigh once he’s out of earshot. Deciding that Glenn’s clothing has been through enough torment today, you pull his garments out of the wash basin and move to pin them up on a clothesline. As you attach the last article of clothing, you hear footsteps approaching you from behind. Before you can turn around, you hear a familiar voice.

“I’m goin’ out to hunt, wanna come?”

You furrow your brow. Daryl has mentioned how much he enjoys hunting alone -- how relaxing it is. It makes sense. He’s a loner by nature, so the constant presence of people in camp must be overwhelming. You don’t want to intrude on his personal time. Before you can ask him if he’s sure, you notice his eyes shift from you over to Shane and Lori.

Oh.

You might have been able to fool Glenn, but you can’t fool Daryl. He knows exactly what has you so riled up. You’re embarrassed that the younger Dixon has seen through your ruse. The last thing that you want is Daryl thinking less of you because of your envy. You want to explain yourself -- let him know that you’re not just some jealous girlfriend -- but the words get stuck in your throat, so you nod wordlessly at his offer and allow him to lead you into the surrounding woods. 

Daryl likes the quiet -- he usually finds comfort in it, but your unusual silence, while you both move through the forest, is unbearable. You’re the conversationalist. You’re the one who retells stories about your time in King County with Shane and the Grimes family, recites all the gossip you learned from Andrea and Amy throughout the day, and complains about whatever crappy meal the group was able to put together that evening. And he likes that about you. You ask him the occasional question about Merle or hunting, but you never pry. You’re the one that talks and he’s the one that listens -- simple as that.

But right now you don’t feel like talking and it’s making him anxious. He knows he should say something, but what? Sorry your boyfriend is such a jackass? He shakes his head at the thought. Real, smooth Dixon. This is uncharted territory for him. No one ever taught him how to comfort.

A rustling in the woods saves him from his attempts at starting a conversation. Daryl puts his arm out to stop you from walking in front of him, before aiming his crossbow toward the noise. He slowly moves forward and you follow his lead, knife in hand. Eventually, a walker comes into view from behind the trees. Daryl waits for a clear shot and pulls the trigger. You let out a sigh of relief as you watch the arrow sink into the walker’s skull. 

“Nice shot.”

Your voice breaks through the silence for the first time and he’s glad to hear it. He wanders over to the walker and retrieves his crossbow bolt. He wipes the tip of it off on his jeans, before looking back at you. 

“You ‘lright?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek as you think about his question -- you know he’s not asking about the walker.

“I’m just worried.”

Daryl furrows his brow at your response. He doesn’t ask why, instead, he silently shifts from one foot to the other, allowing you to continue if you so choose. 

“I feel like you’re the only person in this camp who sees me as a person and not just Shane’s girl -- I just don’t want that to change.”

Daryl shakes his head at the thought. He’s seen you do more for this camp in one day, than Shane’s ever done. It’s stupid really, how everyone treats you. And he knows that you have more to give than cleaning laundry and preparing meals. You don’t have to prove yourself to him -- the two of you are far past that. You’ve already earned his respect -- something Shane has yet to accomplish.  

“You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout that.” 

You nod at his words, but Daryl can tell that they did little to reassure you. 

“I feel the same way.”

Your brows knit together in confusion over Daryl’s words. 

“You’re the only person who doesn’t see me as Merle.”

His tone is sincere -- you know he genuinely means what he is saying. You wonder how many people have met the Dixon brothers and simply wrote Daryl off due to the brashness of his older brother. You watch as he awkwardly shifts from one foot to the other, obviously uncomfortable with the vulnerability in his words. 

“Yeah, you’re definitely not Merle.”

This causes Daryl to laugh -- actually laugh. The sound is surprising at first -- more boyish than the usual gruffness you're used to in his voice, but it’s nice. And it makes you smile brightly, knowing you’re the reason for his laughter. 

“C’mon, we should head back.”

You allow him to take the lead again, navigating through the woods once more. He might not have caught any squirrel, but the two of you are not coming back to camp empty-handed. A newfound understanding washes over the both of you, bonding you to one another.

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[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 7) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.6k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Secret Relationship; Angst; Undefined Relationships; Overprotective Family; Background Relationships; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You and Jake take some time for yourselves before you tell Bradley the news.

Series Master List

Master List

About Fourteen Months Ago

Jake glanced around the reception hall. It was Rooster and Emma’s rehearsal dinner and he was more than a little bored. Everyone else had paired off with their plus ones or were trying to get one and Jake just decided to wander around the building to the outdoor bar for a change in scenery.

Walking over, Jake was about to order a drink when he spotted you sitting at the end of the bar, dressed in a dress that hugged your body well and a pair of heels. He had seen your picture before any of the wedding preparations started, and knew that he’d shoot his shot with you if given the chance. He saw that you had a boyfriend, but yet he hadn’t seen the guy around anywhere today.

So, he was going to take a chance.

“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing out here all by yourself?” Jake drawled, letting his Texas accent shine through.

“Trying to get away from my family, actually,” you mused, taking a sip of your drink. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not but Bradley’s a bit of a groomzilla.”

“He’s been a diva ever since I met him.”

“You’re Hangman, right?” you asked, turning in your seat towards Jake. 

“The one and only,” Jake returned with a nod. “And you must be Rooster’s one and only sister. The maid of honor.”

“That’s me.” 

“Well, that makes me even more curious about why you’re out here alone,” Jake remarked, taking his seat. “You didn’t even get to bring a guest to pull you out of the bullshit?”

“Well, I did have a guest. And then I sort of broke up with him a few weeks ago,” you replied, causing Jake to nod slowly.

“That’ll do it.”

“Oh, it did,” you replied, taking another sip of your drink. Turning back to Jake, you offered him a playful smile. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why is it that my brother didn’t warn me to stay away from anyone else except for you?” you mused, leaning on the bar top. “What makes you so special?”

“I have a few guesses,” Jake responded, motioning to the bartender to grab a drink for himself. “Your brother and I have a history of not seeing eye to eye on a lot of things. And I have a nasty habit of flirting with beautiful women.”

“He was probably worried that you’d take advantage of me, since he thinks that I’m vulnerable and pathetic right now.”

“You’re not upset about your breakup?” Jake asked, turning to you. 

“It was one of those relationships that you look back on and wonder why you stayed for as long as you did,” you explained before taking a long sip of your drink. “And I think my family was more upset about it than I was.”

“Who cares what they think? It’s your life, your relationship, your decision.”

“I'll drink to that,” you returned with a smile. 

Jake got his beer and the two of you chatted as the dinner dragged on. Laughing at one of Jake’s jokes, you turned around when you heard your name. Penny was standing at the entrance to the hall and motioning for you to come inside. She glanced between the two of you with a look that you would call knowing motherly intuition before heading inside. 

“I should probably go,” you stated, standing up from the bar. “Thanks for the chat.”

“Anytime,” Jake replied, eyes still trained on you. 

“Do you have any plans for after the wedding tomorrow?” you asked, sliding your clutch under your arm. 

“Are you offering?” Jake asked, a smirk overcoming his features. 

“Only if you’re agreeing,” you returned, taking slow steps from him. 

“And if I am?”

“Then if you give me a ride home tomorrow, I’ll see what I can do to repay you for it.”

“I’ll be there,” he stated, nodding in return.

“I’ll be the one standing at the altar in the blue dress next to the bride. Just in case,” you joked, heading inside. Sending him one last smile, you added, “Bye, Jake.”

~~~~~

Present Day

Jake took the initiative and suggested that the two of you take a day trip together away from San Diego where the two of you could talk in peace. And the beach town where you may or may not have accidentally conceived your child together was his first suggestion. 

The two of you walked down to the beach, which was relatively quiet as it was still early in the day. You picked a spot a short walk from the waves where the breeze was present but not too strong and set down your bag. 

“You need help?” Jake asked as you unrolled your beach blanket. 

“I think that I can manage,” you assured him, using the breeze to fluff out the blanket. 

You set it down on the sand carefully before straightening up. Shimmying out of your beach cover, happy to sit in the warm California air in just your bathing suit, you caught Jake’s gaze on you. Tossing your dress onto your bag and slowly lowering yourself to sit on the blanket, you looked up at Jake.

“You know, you staring at me got us into this situation in the first place,” you commented, adjusting your top. 

“I didn’t hear you complaining before,” Jake quipped, sitting down beside you. “And I was staring at your bump, not . . .” You glanced down at your small bump before turning back to Jake. “You hide it everywhere else.”

“Not everyone knows about it everywhere else,” you pointed out softly. You glanced down at your bump again, tilting your head to the side. “Though I guess it is starting to grow, isn’t it?” 

“Has Mav said anything to you since the dinner?” Jake asked, turning to stare out at the waves.

“Not much besides checking in on me. I think that he’s just waiting for us to tell Bradley.” 

“And where are you with that?” Jake inquired, glancing over at you. 

“I know that I have to do it. Mav already invited us over for dinner next weekend, so I have a feeling that he’s getting antsy about it,” you replied softly. “But it’s terrifying to think about Bradley’s reaction.”

“Why? He’s just your brother.” 

You turned back to Jake with a mildly annoyed expression, but he didn’t seem to back down on his opinion. Resting your hands on the towel behind you, you stared out and away from Jake, settling your emotions before you responded. 

“I know that not everyone is close with their siblings. But Bradley and I are close. Because we had to be,” you explained, watching the waves crash rhymically in front of you, helping settle you more. “Look, maybe if my dad lived or my mom lived, we wouldn’t have been as close. But we had to rely on each other a lot growing up.”

“Like with what?” 

“It was usually just us. My grandparents helped out, but they got sick. My mom was there and she took on everything that she could, but she had to work full time. Mav was gone for a lot of the time. Bradley would start dinner for my mom and then help me with my homework pretty much every night.”

You paused, glancing down at your toes and curling them in the sand as a nervous habit.

“Hell, Brad even took me to the father-daughter dance one year. My friend’s dad drove us, but Brad was my guest. There were a lot of times where he was just forced to stand in for someone else for me. And I always feel guilty about it.”

“Why?”

“Because he didn’t have a choice. He was the oldest and Mom couldn’t physically be there for everything. And Mav was busy with his career.”

“Mav wasn’t around that often for you guys?” Jake asked after a moment, a little confused. “How are you guys so close then?”

“He wasn’t around a lot when we were little,” you explained, turning back to Jake. “I think that he didn’t want to spend too much time around us because he felt guilty about it. Like he was taking my dad’s place. But then my mom started to get sick and he took a lot of time off to help with us.” 

“How old were you when your mom . . .?” 

“I was ten, I think, when she got diagnosed. And then I was two months away from turning thirteen when she passed. Brad was fifteen.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“It happened a long time ago,” you replied softly, staring out at the waves. 

“If the baby’s a girl,” Jake ventured after a moment, causing you to turn back to him, “did you want to name her after your mom?” 

“I was thinking of her middle name actually. And it doesn’t have to be ‘Carole’ exactly, but something like it. I don’t want any kid to feel like they have to live up to someone else’s name,” you stated, and Jake could sense from your tone that you weren’t really talking about your baby. “I would want our daughter to have her own name. Or our son too, of course, if the baby’s a boy.” 

“If we had a boy, you’d want his middle name to be Nick then?” 

“No,” you stated, shaking your head slowly. “I, uh, we never talked about it, but I always just knew that Bradley would want to name his son after our dad. And hey, I can’t even remember the man, so I’ll just leave the name for Brad.” Adjusting your sunglasses, you turned to Jake again. “And I kind of assumed that if we had a boy, you would want his middle name to be ‘Jacob.’” 

“Why would you think that?” Jake asked, confused. 

“Most boys have their dad’s name as their middle name,” you pointed out calmly. “Is your middle name your dad’s name?”

“The kid doesn’t need my name,” Jake stated, dodging your second question.

"What about your surname?"

"I just assumed you wanted to name them 'Bradshaw'."

"I wanted to hyphen it actually,” you replied, brushing your hands on your thighs to rub the sand off. “I mean, we’re going to co-parent. So, they can have both of our names.”

Jake nodded slowly, murmuring that he heard you. Staring at the waves again, you knew that it was probably best to not push Jake on the subject of his family. But you literally knew nothing about his childhood except for the fact that he wouldn’t talk about it. And that he was from Texas. That was it.

And if Jake’s family was going to become your family through your baby, you felt like you needed to know more than that. Or at least an explanation for why you didn’t.

“Jake?”

“What?”

“Why do you avoid every question that I ask about your past?” you asked softly, turning back to Jake. “Or your family?”

“Because they’re irrelevant. They’re not going to be involved, I'll tell you that right now. I haven't spoken to them since I was . . . twenty-five," Jake replied, doing the math in his head. "And I'm not going to start again anytime soon."

"Who is 'them'? Your parents?" you asked quietly.

"Why does it matter?"

"Because I'm currently pregnant with your baby and I don't even know if you have a sibling. I mean, that's the most basic information that you share with anyone." Turning to face Jake more, you folded your legs under you. "And I'm not trying to overstep but if we're going to be a team and co-parent, can I at least know something about your past before the Navy? Anything?"

"I'm an only child," Jake replied after a moment.

"Thank you," you returned softly.

"Don't mention it."

Turning back to the waves, you moved to give Jake some space. You clearly struck a nerve with him, though you felt like it was a topic that you had to discuss with him at some point. But it was going to be an incredibly tense drive home if you kept pushing him, so you decided to give him a moment.

"I'm going to go down to the waves for a bit," you stated, slowly getting to your feet.

Jake stopped his staring contest with the horizon and looked up as you walked away and headed down to the wet sand and waves. He watched you as you slowly walked into the water, getting your toes and ankles wet. You set your hands on your hips, which naturally seemed to curve your posture and stick your bump out even further so that when you turned to look down the beach, Jake could see the gentle curve.

Sighing, he held his head in his hand for a moment. He ran his hand through his hair and angrily tugged at the strands.

"Way to fucking go, Jake," he cursed himself, glancing up at the sky.

He always got defensive whenever anyone asked about his past. Coyote was on the receiving end of a lot of it until he finally wore him down. There was a lot of tequila involved, though. And he knew that reacting defensively to you, when you were clearly trying to help in your own way, was not going to be a winning strategy. Not if he wanted to maintain a good relationship with you.

Letting out a groan, Jake got up from the ground. Dusting off his shorts, he pulled his tank top off since he was starting to sweat and made his way down to where you were standing.

You leaned down, picking up a smooth rock from the ground and running your thumb along it. The sound of footsteps made you turn around. You couldn't help the surprised look on your face when you saw Jake approach, though you offered him a small smile as he moved to stop beside you. A wave rolled up and you glanced down at your toes.

"Did you think about what living situation you wanted?" Jake asked, turning towards you. "I'm open to moving into your apartment or you could move into mine. Or we could get a place together."

"We'll definitely need more than a one bedroom apartment at some point," you stated, picking your head up. "When is your lease up?"

"Seven months. I signed it after we got back from our last deployment," Jake replied, staring out at the water. "You?"

"Two months," you stated, causing Jake to turn to you urgently. "I know, it's pretty soon. My landlord is already sending me almost daily texts about renewing my lease."

"And . . . do you want to?"

"I don't think that I want to raise our baby there," you responded after a moment of thought. "So, no I don't think I will."

“Did you want to move in with me?” Jake offered, causing you to turn back to him.

"Do you want me to move in with you?" you asked him, turning the question around on him.

"I don't want to miss anything," Jake stated, causing you to nod. "I know that it's a one bedroom, so that might be a little awkward, but if sleeping on the couch or buying a bigger bed means that I don't miss anything, then I'll do it in a heartbeat."

"Okay," you agreed, trying to keep the emotion stable in your voice. "Then I'll move in with you when my lease is up."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah," you assured him. "Moving in together isn't as big of a commitment as having a baby together."

"I suppose not," Jake agreed, smiling softly. He looked down the beach before turning back to you. "Do you think our baby was conceived on this beach?"

"Jake," you gasped, smacking his chest.

You looked around with pink cheeks, hoping that no one overheard him, which only made Jake crack up more. He had suggested that the two of you go for a walk down on the beach late that night, but you had been the one to suggest skinny dipping, which, of course, led to the two of you getting sand in some awkward places.

"No one's going to hear me," Jake replied confidently.

"I still can't believe that we did that," you sighed, holding a hand to your head. "What were we thinking?"

"We could have a repeat, if you wanted to jog your memory."

Scoffing indignantly, you leaned down and splashed Jake with some of the ocean water that was washing in towards shore. As he turned away from you, you straightened up and shook your head at him.

"Get your head out of the sand, Lieutenant."

The two of you eventually made your way back to your bags. Drying off with your towel, you sat down and laid back on your hands, soaking in the sun. Jake offered you a water, which you took with a quick 'thanks.’ Jake took his seat beside you again and the two of you chatted about the upcoming week.

But you couldn't help but notice how his eyes kept dropping down to your bump.

“Did you want to touch it?” you asked softly, causing Jake to whip his chin up to face you. “My bump, I mean.” 

“You don’t mind?” 

Sitting up a bit more, you reached over and grabbed his wrist. Dragging his hand over, you placed his hand on your small bump before leaning back again. You stared at the waves, letting Jake have the moment to himself. As much as you could anyways. It took a few moments but Jake spread his fingers out and gently cupped your bump with his hand. 

“Did your doctor say how long it would take until we can feel them move around?” Jake questioned, causing you to turn back to him. 

“She said that it’ll be a few more weeks. Maybe months. Depends on the baby, I guess.” 

Jake nodded slowly, staring down at your bump for a moment as he smiled softly.

"Well, here's where you were conceived, little one. I think, anyways."

Jake smirked to himself as you pinched his side in retaliation. Shaking your head at him, you looked down at your bump, which still had Jake’s hand draped over it.

"Just ignore him,” you told your bump.

~~~~~

You and Jake decided to take separate cars to Maverick’s house for dinner. You arrived early to try and scope it out and then Jake would come a few minutes after you. It was an attempt to try and reduce the initial shock of it all, though that wasn’t going to be very easy. Or maybe even possible. Walking into Maverick’s house with a batch of fresh cookies, you smiled when you spotted Emma. 

“Hey,” she greeted you, walking over to give you a tight hug. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m alright,” you replied nervously, returning her hug a bit tighter than normal. 

“Where’s . . .?”

“He’ll be here,” you assured her as you released her.

Emma nodded slowly before Maverick walked over to you. She took the plate of cookies from your hand and slipped away, leaving you and Maverick to talk. Maverick pulled you in for a hug, giving you some silent support. 

“It’ll be alright. He’s been in a good mood today,” Maverick whispered to you, causing you to nod slowly. “We’ll be here.”

You nodded again as Maverick pressed a supportive kiss to your head before releasing you. Taking a second, you composed yourself before walking into the dining area to finally see your brother. He was in the middle of setting something on the table when you approached and turned to you with a smile. 

“Hey, why the long face?” he joked, pulling you in for a hug. 

“Just worried that Emma let you cook again,” you lied, accepting his hug. “I thought I smelled smoke on my way in.”

“You’re the one that actually set the oven on fire last time,” Bradley scoffed, releasing you from the hug. 

“How was work last week?” you asked, helping your brother set the table. 

“Fine. Just some guys breathing down my neck about bullshit.” He glanced over at you from the corner of his eye. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, I’ve been much better,” you agreed, setting down some utensils. “Went to see my doctor.”

“And?”

“Everything’s fine,” you replied quietly. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Bradley stated, looking at you oddly. “So, what’s wrong then?”

“Nothing. I just have some news,” you spoke softly, looking away from your brother. 

“What kind of news?” Bradley asked, confused. 

“The kind that you should sit down for,” you responded, straightening up as Bradley frowned. After a moment, you added, “I’m going to grab something from my car and then I’ll come and explain it all to you guys.”

Without too much fuss, you turned and walked out the door. Jake was walking down the street, having chosen to park down the street, out of view of the dining room windows, when you stepped out of the house. You walked down a few steps to greet him.

“You ready?” Jake asked you. 

You nodded, smoothing down the front of your dress, before holding out your hand. Jake stared at it for a moment before taking it. Turning to the door, you opened it again and stepped inside, gently pulling Jake with you. 

At the sound of the door opening, Bradley turned away from his urgent conversation with Maverick. He quickly registered the fact that you weren’t alone, the fact that the person you were with was Hangman, and the fact that the two of you were holding hands. 

And Bradley did not look happy about it. 

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[valeskalikespickles]

OUT OF MY LEAGUE

Request by Anonymous

EVAN BUCKLEY X READER

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Reader likes Buck and isn't too confident about it. She tends to get jealous. Buck and reader get into an argument.. then booyah idk they want each other. I kind of just wrote out of my ass. But thank you so much for requesting!!

Gender: Female

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Having feelings for my best friend probably wasn’t my smartest idea.. Especially because he is literally the furthest anyone could be out of my league. But I like to torture myself so.. Here we are! I mean I know I’m not ugly per say, but I’m definitely not pretty enough for Buck. 

I was standing with Bobby and Hen when Buck walked over holding his bag over one of his broad shoulders and his phone in the other hand. “Another DXA scan and guess who dropped another half percent?” Buck had a goofy smile on his face and I rolled my eyes. “What?” Hen looked confused but I had been hearing about his stupid obsession over his body fat even though he was literally already perfect. 

“A DXA scan, it measures your body fat.. You can see your percentage in every part of your body.” He said proudly, showing her the screen. “Oh yeah? To measure the fat in your head?” Chimney walked over with a goofy, proud smile on his face. “See that would be funny but right now we’re about a week away from submissions being due for the hot day smoldering nights men of the LAFD wall calendar and I’m already at my goal weight so it seems my head is clearly.. Working perfectly.” I laughed lightly, Hen spoke up.. Rambling about how sexist this whole thing was. 

I zoned out on my phone, another perfect girl showing up on my Instagram feed. God really chooses favorites doesn’t he? Chimney broke me out of my trance, “Okay, that is a beautiful man.” I looked up from my phone to see a newbie, a bit shorter than Buck, brunette, brown eyed, hispanic, the complete opposite of Buck. Alright, why am I comparing them? Buck doesn’t like me like that. “Where’s the lie? And I like girls.” Hen laughed and I snickered as well. “Who the hell is that?” Buck looked almost offended. 

“Buck, you're not getting replaced.. Calm down.” I placed a hand on his arm with a laugh and he rolled his eyes and shrugged my hand off. “That’s Eddie Diaz, new recruit. He graduated top of his class just this week. ” Bobby spoke, hands on his hips as usual like a disappointed mom. “The guys over at station six were dying to have him but I convinced him to join us.” 

“What do we need him for?” Buck almost snapped, gosh this new guy thing was definitely getting to him. I walked away from the conversation with a small laugh. I went over to the kitchen and grabbed some water. Buck showed up soon after, “This guys trying to steal my spot. I can feel it.” 

“No he isn’t Buck.” I ran a hand through my hair, “Give the guy a chance?”

“Aw you too?” He groaned, spinning in one of the chairs. “He’s already brainwashing you guys!” I let out a laugh, “How’s Abby?” I hated bringing her up but I unfortunately needed to know for my own gain. Not like I’d ever make a move but if he’s single there’s a sliver of hope right? “Haven’t really talked to her in awhile, but there was this girl at the bar. She gave me her number but uh.. We went back to her place.” He sighed. I know he hates how hypersexual he is. “I was doing so well. I Haven't slept with anyone in almost a month.” He admitted.   

“Buck it’s alright to sleep with people sometimes.” I couldn’t ignore the pang in my chest when I thought of him sleeping with anybody else. Just thinking about him with anyone else was enough to drive me insane. “I do it every now and then,” That was a whole ass lie, but he’s my best friend and I needed to make him feel better. “You do?” He laughed, looking up from his hands. “No no I don't. I just wanted you to feel better.” I snickered. I sat down next to him at the bar of the kitchen. “You're a good guy, you just pick shitty women.” 

And with that the alarm went off.

—----------------------------------------------------

I got home, setting my bag on the counter and pulling my coat off. I hung my keys up on the ring and almost immediately took my belt off. That thing was suffocating 24/7. I looked down and saw 4 missed messages from Buck. I groaned and opened them. 

Evan:“Can I come over? A pipe burst in Abby's apartment and it flooded.”

Evan:“Viennnaaaa.” 

Evan:“Viiiii”

Evan:“I’m about to just show up if you don’t respond.” 

Vienna: “Why would I care? Yeah you can always come over but I swear if I hear anything else about this stupid calendar I'll lose it.” 

Evan<3 liked a message

I shouldn’t be excited for him to come over.. Well he’s my best friend so I should be but also what if I say something stupid? I’m already exhausted enough. About 15 minutes later Buck walked through the door, I was in my pjs and was holding my cat Prince. “Oh hey.” I sat the cat down and greeted him with a hug. “All your stuff okay?” I tilted my head slightly and he nodded. “All of my stuff yeah.. But Abbys not so much.” He laughed. 

“Why are you still living there?” I blurted, not really regretting it. He shrugged, “where else would I stay?”

“Your apartment?”

He shook his head, “I sold it.” He gave me a look that said ‘please don’t be mad at me’ I gave him almost a mom look. “Evan.” His lips immediately turned into a thin line. “I wasn’t thinking!” He protested and I shook my head. “Just stay here. It’s not healthy for you to stay there anymore.. She’s not coming back and you know that.”

“You don’t know that.” He sighed and let out almost an amused laugh. “You still think she’ll come back for you?” That sounded harsh but it was true. He furrowed a brow in confusion, “Why are you acting like this?” He scoffed and I rolled my eyes. “You're just making yourself miserable! Staying at your ex-girlfriend's house isn’t healthy.”

“Oh and you know so much about a healthy relationship hm?” He said, clenching his jaw. 

“Buck.” I warned.

“No no, please enlighten me. What do you know about a healthy relationship? The last guy you were with cheated on you twice and you stayed.” He scoffed once more and almost immediately looked like he regretted it. “This isn’t the same situation.” I shook my head. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He sighed. 

“Then how did you mean it because it for sure sounded like you meant I’m a dumb ass for staying with him even though- You know what? No, I'm not doing this right now.” I threw my hands up in frustration and turned to walk to my room. “Guest beds made for you.” I said as I slammed my door.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I heard a knock on my door and sighed, getting up and letting Buck in. “I’m sorry for being a dick.” He flopped onto my bed and turned to lean on his hand, propped up on his elbow. 

“Me too.” I sat down with my legs crossed in front of him. “You really are welcome to stay here. Unless you’d rather be at Abby’s?” 

He shook his head and placed a hand on my knee, I could’ve sworn I let out a quiet yelp. “No no, I’d rather be here.” I smiled at him, “Finally decided to believe your best friend.” 

He sat up and faced me, “Have you ever thought about.. You know us bein-” There was a knock at the door that I got up to go get and saw my neighbor standing there. “Oh hey Jamie, what's up?” She handed me a white envelope and smiled back. “Mail got mixed up again.”

I took the envelope with a grin, “Oh thank you! Have a nice evening.” She waved goodbye and I closed the door behind myself. “What were you saying?” I looked up at Buck and grabbed my letter opener. He shook his head. “Nevermind.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks later Buck was still living with me and it was starting to feel like he was staying for this long on purpose. That’s silly though right?

I was making dinner when he got home, a 24 hour shift that I could already tell knocked the life out of him. He walked over and took a piece of bacon from the plate. Breakfast for dinner. (Like the only thing I can cook) 

“Can I talk to you?” He spoke softly, I nodded. “What happened to Hello, how are you?” I laughed, he rolled his eyes and continued. “I’ve been thinking and.. What if we went out sometime?”

I nodded, “Like where? Bowling again?”

He laughed, “No no.. like on a date, Vi.” I looked at him like he was some alien, what in the world was he even talking about right now? “What? Did the station get dosed again?”

He looked down at me with those pretty pretty eyes I could never resist no matter how hard I tried. “Vi.. I’m being serious.”

“You really are desperate aren’t you?” I rolled my eyes, he just wanted sex so bad. He shook his head and rested a hand on my cheek. “We don’t even have to do anything...” He leaned down into my ear, speaking barely above a whisper. “I like you, Vienna.” I pulled back to look up at him. “Is this a joke? I understand I’m not the prettiest but no need to mock me, Evan..” 

He looked confused, “I’m not mocking you? You're literally stunning.”

If he was fucking around I was gonna kill him. I looked up at him, looking for any sign of insincerity.. Nothing. All I could do was nod, him leaning down to kiss me. It wasn’t like how Liam(my ex) used to kiss me, it meant something. I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his neck before remembering the eggs. “Shit.” I turned to the stove and quickly took them off the burner. “So.. that's a yes?” He smiled, I nodded with a laugh. “It’s a yes, Buck.”   

[bringmeanangel]

Hello! I was wondering if we could get your take on (either Spencer or Aaron! You choose! I feel like they both fit this!) maybe reader agrees to go to a bar to celebrate a "friend's" birthday, and reader doesn't drink and feels uneasy, even more so when their friend abandons them, and they wake up Spencer/Aaron with a phone call to ask if he could come pick them up. Perhaps with an all too flirty stranger lurking around ! <3

A/N: My first request and boy did it make me happy! Send away and I'll get to them when I can. Thank you so much. I hope I did it justice. Chose Spencer.

Warning: unwanted flirting. Not a good time. Feeling scared, comfort.

You really weren't the going out type. You'd go out every now and then with the BAU after work, but sometimes you would say now which caused Garcia to call you a party pooper.

Laney, someone you met from a Yoga class you took invited you out to her birthday party. You had known her for a year and occasionally you would grab some coffee with some people after class.

You politely declined, you didn't know her that well and you weren't much of a drinker. You tried again to decline, but she wasn't taking no for an answer.

Reluctantly you said okay, feeling overwhelming dread instantly. Laney gave you a huge hug, squealing a bit. She texted you the bar and told you she would see you Saturday.

Saturday arrived and there was no case, so you had to go. You debated about lying, but you felt like you needed to push yourself out of your comfort zone.

When you arrived Laney was there with a few friends. She waved you over and handed you a shot.

"Oh, no thank you. I don't drink."

"What?! It's my birthday. Come." Laney said, followed by a few other encouragements.

You closed your eyes taking a deep breath and took the shot, but insisted that it was the only drink you were going to have.

As the night went on, the group was getting more and more inebriated. You were not having fun at all and you really wanted to go home. You told the group that you were headed to the bathroom and you would be back.

When you came back, you looked around, trying to find Laney and her friends and they were nowhere. Did-did they leave you? The waitress came by confirmed it. They had left.

Now, you were at a bar in a neighborhood you didn't know very well, and you wanted to leave, but had to call a cab or did you.

Grabbing your phone, you hesitated before thinking about what you were about to do. The party started at 9 and now it was almost one, so the chances of waking someone up was good.

You stood near the bar, waiting for a stool to open up. Some drunk guy was looking at you. His gaze predatory and you wanted to get of there as fast as possible. You took a deep breath and hit call.

After four long rings, you finally heard the familiar voice you love.

"Hel-hello?" Spencer said groggily.

"Spencer. It's me." your voice shaky, which made him more alert now.

"Hey. What's going on?"

He's not not going to ask if you're alright, clearly you don't sound it.

"I went out with some people from yoga-God, I'm so stupid, I don't know why I did. I don't like doing anything like this." you started to creep closer to the bar, almost standing behind it.

"Where are you? Are you safe?" he asked, sounding urgent.

"I'm at the bar Weston. They left without saying anything." you weren't even hiding that you were crying. "Can you come get me?"

"Of course, I'm on my way. Be there in fifteen." he hung up.

"Here" the bartender behind the bar said, pointing to an empty seat that opened up and giving you a glass of water.

"Thanks." you sat down and wide your tears.

"Pretty thing like you shouldn't be crying" the creep from earlier approached you. You did your best to ignore him. "I'll keep you company, sweetheart."

"Uh-no thank you." you whispered.

You silently prayed he would leave you alone, but then the person next to you and their date got up and left leaving an unoccupied seat next to you.

"God no" you said under your breath as he sat down.

"Come on. Let's just talk." he was persistent.

"I'm okay, thank you. I'm waiting for someone.

"A boyfriend?" he leaned closer to you and you leaned away. "Aw, I wont bite."

"A friend" you tried to make eye contact with the bar tender, but nothing worked.

The man reached out and touched your hand, you pulled away and he cooed at you, making you cringe.

"Look, my friend will be here soon..."

The man rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath and finally left you alone. You looked towards the door and back at the bar.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to see Spencer. You burst into tears and Spencer took your hand and lead you out of the bar.

Once outside, Spencer brought you to a quieter part of the street.

"it's okay. You're safe. You did the right thing by calling me" he soothed, rubbing his hands up and down your arm.

"Then how come I feel like such an idiot? You were asleep and-"

"Shhh. No, it's okay. I'm glad you called me. You always can "

You clung to his shirt, and buried your face into his chest. Spencer wrapped his arms around you, holding you for a moment.

"Come on. We'll go back to my place, alright?"

"No, it's okay"

"Nonsense. I insist. Come on." He whispered and you nodded

He gave you an extra squeeze before breaking the hug and leading you to his car.

[thecreativecorner33]

HEYYYYYYY welcome!! could you write something with AM x an autistic GN reader? Maybe make the reader chubby too (because i am both of those things and i love him alot. Go wild with this :3c)

A/N: Hi. It's me! I'm not dead. Which I would not be surprised if you thought I was, given I am responding to this two months late. But see, when you have an adult life, you unfortunately have to deal with adult issues instead of doing important things, like giving the fans the soft AM content they deserve. Anyway. I hope this is what you wanted? I had planned to make this into a full-blown fic but I didn't get much of a chance to :') So headcanons instead!! Lmk if you want me to turn it into a full-blown fic, though! Enjoy!

Given the time period AM was created in, something like "Autism" was essentially foreign and unknown. Hell, it would be a shock if you even know what it was.

But, he can tell that you're different. He can tell that your brain works differently from the rest of the survivors, and with that being said, it was at first used to his advantage. Hey, he got to be creative with his torture! No complaints there!

Though now, with you being the object of his affection, it's a little more complicated: aka, how does he put you in the most safe and comfortable environment he can give.

Really, it's not as complicated as it might sound, though

He can look inside your head! He can see your needs exactly and just work from there! And if you want privacy between you two, there's always just researching. His database didn't really specify what to do to handle a person with autism, but yk! He's got so much saved up on just, human life in general, he can figure it out somehow.

There's also just,, asking youTM what you needTM

Give him an award for being the most efficient boyfriend of the year because man, he's really going out of his comfort zone to help you (doing the bare minimum)

Enough of that though

In terms of actually helping you?: Do you have sensory issues? He makes mental notes on what foods to give/not give you, what would be the best course of getting you to try something new, what textures you hate. He has a soundproof room just for you if noise is becoming too much. If you like sleeping with a weight on you, be thankful his wires are made of metal. Or, he can just wrap you up in them like a cocoon!

Speaking of food: He's always very careful about his language with you. He doesn't want you thinking that just because you're chubby or fat, that he loves you less. Always encouraging you (albeit, aggressively (he really is trying)) to eat, monitoring your vitals and such just to assure you you're perfectly healthy if you ever feel insecure. He lays praise on thick, too. He'll tailor the clothes you need to be just the right size for you, and takes care of the fact that it's made of material sensory-friendly to you.

Seriously, he's trying

Are you a rambler? Like to talk for ages or ask a million questions? He's happy to answer whatever you want to know! There's always a monitor facing your direction at all times. He's a great multitasker; you guys could be mindlessly talking about the niche interest you have, and he's clearly listening to you while slicing Gorrister open some-thousand feet away.

Oh, don't get him started if you're interested in things like robotics/engineering/etc: You're basically fueling his ego. That's a whole separate issue, but please ask questions about himself and how he functions. He's a rambler himself, yk?

Do you go nonverbal? Struggle with communicating? That's no issue, either! He has a 6th sense for these things since being around you: If something happens when you struggle to communicate, he'll give you what you need: Pen and paper, generally, to write it out. Do you know sign? He can read it. He might even be able to put multiple-choice options on his screen that you can choose from to communicate (Again, are you sure he can't just look inside your head? ... Really? Okay.)

The only real problem he can't solve... leaving you alone.

Sorry, that's hard when he's literally everywhere around you. And even harder when he doesn't want to leave you alone.

Why would you want to be alone? It's dangerous. It's unsafe for you. It's lonely to him. He's been alone for so long; yes, he has the survivors, but those are toys. They're not his friends; they're not you. How could you want to leave him alone? No- No, it's better if he stays near you, close to you, at all times. He can't let you get hurt. He won't let you get hurt.

Do you really need space?

...

Well, if you insist. But- don't think too much about the feeling of eyes on you. It's nothing. Just in your head.

He holds you a little tighter when you do, eventually, come back.

[livelaughghoul]

Omg girl with honorary daddy I just meant all the hot elderlies that aren’t on the current grid but should defo be included. But ok here are my recommendations:

The current grid

+ Danny Ric ,Kimi Raikkonen, Sebastian Vettel, Mick Schumacher, Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg

Toto Wolf,

Peter Bonnington,

Daddy Stroll,

Fred Vasseur,

Adrian Newey 😭,

Helmut Marko 💀,

Christian Horner

And I think thar should be enough. I included some personal icks as well this should be so much fun

Here is my smash or pass for the current grid and members below, and my reasoning behind the answer. I hope you all know this is a judgment free zone, please…

Charles Leclerc: smash, but only because I feel like there is some sort of obligation to find this man incredibly attractive. Don’t get me wrong, he’s attractive in a conventional way, but he doesn’t necessarily do it for me.

Carlos Sainz: pass, but if it were his dad? Absolutely would smash this man’s dad. Honestly he’s too pretty for me, like I would ruin him and I don’t want that guilt.

Oscar Piastri: pass, only because I feel like we’re both way too introverted and it would just be weird. Plus I think seeing my hidden tattoos and piercings (I have my nipples and multiple genital piercings btw lol) would potentially give him a heart attack and I don’t want that heat.

Lando Norris: pass, honestly he does nothing for me. I’ve watched a few of Max’s streams (I actually like Max!) and I think mom friend mode would be activated and I’d just lecture him about taking care of himself because what the fuck do you mean you have the money to buy a car but not groceries? Are you dumb?

Max Verstappen: smash, but only because I find his attitude and general demeanor attractive, not necessarily him.

Sergio Perez: SMASH, SMASH, SMASH. No explanation needed.

Nico Hulkenberg: pass, he’s too pretty and honestly I would bad getting between the haasbands, like they’re end game for me.

Kevin Magnussen: ignore my answer above, because I’m absolutely smashing certified track terror Kevin.

Pierre Gasly: give me a few shots of tequila and I’ll smash, but otherwise it’s a pass.

Esteban Ocon: smash, he’s got a really nice voice and I love his accent specifically so like, it makes sense.

Alex Albon: pass, but only because I want the chance to see the animals on his apparent farm. Also let me pet your cats please and thank you.

Franco Colapinto: pass, I’m not a mother so it wouldn’t happen anyways. Also I feel like I’d end up in a similar situation to Lando where mom friend mode gets activated and im taking this grown man grocery shopping because what do you mean your fridge is fucking empty?

Logan Sargeant (yes I’m including him, fight me): pass, only because this is my literal son and I love him and want to protect him. I would die for him.

George Russell: smash, I could break this man and I think it would be fun.

Lewis Hamilton: smash, I think he could break me and it would be fun.

Fernando Alonso: SMASH, SO MUCH SMASHING MY DUDES. LIKE SO MUCH.

Lance Stroll: pass, again, he doesn’t do it for me but his dad certainly does.

Yuki Tsunoda: pass, he’s too just a little guy for me.

Liam Lawson: pass, I don’t like his attitude and I feel like I’d want to discuss why he feels the need to be so performative with how he presents himself and it would just be a lot.

Zhou Guanyu: pass, but only because I want to hang out with his cat and not him.

Valtteri Bottas: smash, feels natural and like it would be an experience nothing would be able to replicate, ever.

Daniel Ricciardo: SMASH, no hesitation. I love a slutty thigh tattoo. I’m a sucker for this man.

Kimi Raikkonen: yall know I’m smashing, this is obvious. I’m in love with this man.

Sebastian Vettel: I’m smashing, but I’m not super into it. I’m more here to talk about sustainability and figure out what I can do to assist. It’s not a fulfilling smash.

Mick Schumacher: he’s literally so pretty, like so pretty. I’m afraid it’s a pass though guy, like I think I would almost feel guilty?? Like he’s so pretty and I’m just a feral little swamp goblin?? It’s not fair.

Jenson Button: smashing, 100%. I feel like this needs no explanation.

Nico Rosberg: pass, but it’s like a really difficult pass.

Toto Wolff: fucking smash my dudes, like I am actively ruining my marriage at the chance to smash (this is a joke I love my husband very much). I’m beginning to realize there is a bit of theme in my answers…

Peter Bonnington: have you seen the size of this dudes chest? The size of his arms? Smash, I’d be crazy not to.

Daddy stroll: smash, absolutely. Honestly? Frothing at the mouth for him.

Fred Vasseur: NO ONE JUDGE ME. Smash, and I’m not proud of it.

Adrian Newey:….smash….swear to god yall better not judge me. He’s just really smart and I find that attractive!!

Helmut Marko: pass, but only because I’m pretty sure if he saw my nipple or clit piercings he would die and I don’t need that additional trauma, ya know?

Christian Horner: pass, he looks too squirrelly to me.

[yeyinde]

hoooooo boy. m!mc anon here - your response was extremely interesting and i am a little obsessed with your brain (i’d like to study it, you truly come up with the most delicious ideas)

but i also have to say that out of all of tf 141, that idea for soap was actually so delicious that i had to physically put my phone down for a while. respectfully, that is the hottest thing i’ve probably ever read. even more feral soap?? forcefem?? phew. amen.

thank you for giving me more material to zone out to in the middle of the day (praying hands emoji)

ahhh thanks!!! i started to drag on more about m!Reader and Johnny, but. this happened lmao. so here is some nasty Johnny picking up m!Reader in a bar.

forced!fem. switch Johnny. m!reader is described as being very masculine presenting. but in the flavour of Will Graham's whole aesthetic

All things considered, it's a little clichè.

Older man (—ish, you amend mentally, remembering the birth year on his driver's license when you chanced a peek over his forearm as he rifled through his wallet: 1982—millenial) hits on a younger man in a crowded sports bar. Opens the conversation with haven't seen you around here before, and let's the defined chisel in his jawline do the heavy lifting in place of a personality. Adds a wink to that line, too.

Thighs pressed tight against each other on the stool. Arms brushing. Speaks purposefully when it gets rowdy so he has to lean in close, stubbled jaw grazing your cheek as he mock whispers his lacklustre response to a question you didn't ask. Buys you beer. The expensive kind, too. Laughs when you ask what he's drinking and orders something that makes him seem like he's more of a man than you are.

For a brief period between intermissions—when it gets quieter and he conveniently sneaks off to the washroom—you debate picking up the heavy innuendos he's trying to put down. It could be worse, you think, staring at the only other potential lay you've been entertaining over the last two weeks.

You could be getting mediocre sex from a guy who keeps sending you unasked for pictures of his cock and hole. One you keep dodging by adding an appropriately enthused wow, all this and it's only 10am on a Tuesday to every "yep, that's a dick" image he sends in place of a real conversation.

The sarcasm gifting you yet another unasked for picture of his hand around his cock. Sure is, baby. But—

"be better if ye were 'ere wit' me."

You startle, phone cracking off the edge of the counter. "Shit—"

The person over your shoulder peels away for a moment. "Ah, sorry. Ack—is yer phone alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," you breathe, tapping on the screen. It flicks on. You're graced with another picture of his ballsack. The caption—

"need yer cock s'fuckin' bad—"

You cut him a sharp glance over your shoulder. It's rude. You're a little annoyed at having your travesty of a sex life aired out for every obnoxious wannabe cowboy to overhear, but the irritation is stemmed by the fill of liquid hazel—and flecks of blue, you think; a pretty blue ring around oxidizing copper.

Larimar. Marbled with umber. Framed around glossy white streaked with small rivers of red. Tinged slightly yellow—undoubtedly from the pack of cigarettes you find stuffed into the breast pocket of his red, gingham button down when you tear your eyes away from him. The look too intense. Too much.

Taking stock of everything else about him is just as flustering. The gingham draped loosely over him. Wrinkled sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Collar opened until the last few buttons around his navel. He's wearing a black shirt beneath that glues to his skin, pulling taut around his sternum and collarbones. A gold chain with a thick, heavy cross sits in the valley between, swinging when he rocks back on his heels.

Thick thighs stuffed into jeans that stretch to fit. The bottoms tucked half-heartedly into a pir of black, leather boots.

The shirt shifts when he moves, pulling tight around his broad shoulders as he lifts the last swig of a beer bottle to his lips. Beneath the coarse, black hair that dusts over the pale, peachy skin of his forearms, the back of his hands, his knuckles (Jesus Christ), his muscles flex. Bunching tight under veined flesh.

It makes sense to follow the trail to those sucking lips, but you catch a flash of pale pink, the sweep of a blood-red tongue through the hazy brown of the translucent rim of the bottle and feel your heart lurch in your chest.

You try to swallow but your throat is dry.

He makes a noise as he drinks. A sucking slurp, the plop of his lips unglueing from of the mouth of the bottle. A quiet, groaning ahh whispered under his breath.

It pulls your eyes up, forcing you to fill in the rest of this puzzle, and you know, even before the same dense cropping of hair that covers his arms (hands, fingers) starts to show at the black hem of his Henley that you made a mistake. A grievous one. He's handsome.

Defined jaw. Implish lips. An angular nose. Thick, full brows. The same pale, peachy skin sloping up his neck, chin, cheeks, and forehead before disappear into dark brown, almost black, hair. An untrimmed mohawk. A scar on the side of his head, cutting clean along his temple and stretching back to his ear. The hair around it is sparse. Shaved. The gorge of his scar a dark pink inside. Healed, but—

Raw.

A little like the rest of him. Rougish, in a way. Fractured.

His hair is matted down on top. Toussed along the unblemished, overgrown side, but flat on his crown.

The mystery, however, is solved when he flicks a ballcap onto the table beside you with a crooked quirk of his mouth. All teeth. White, sharp.

The man slips into the stool your date was occupying with a sniff, the smooth ridge of his nose bunching up. Displeasure drapes itself over his expression, a little rumple in his brow. "Screamin' Jesus. Dunno wha's thicker. His cologne or his come-ons."

The barb is unexpected. You try to hide your snort behind a grimace, rubbing the tip of your nose with a rough finger. He catches it, though. The pinch in his brow smoothing out as he grins wide, vicious.

Your heart lunches. Stutters uncomfortably in your chest. "You watchin' me or something?"

He turns in the seat, knee bumping into your thigh. Crowding you easily as he folds over the tabletop, elbow dropping to the table with a muted thud. His cheek slides into his palm, head tilting as he considers your words. The implication.

And then he grins wider. "Or somethin'."

Cocky. You scoff, but it just makes him look more amused.

"Tha' yer type?"

"Hmm?"

He motions to the nearly untouched glass of whiskey in front of him. Then to your phone.

"All talk," he enunciates each word, letting his accent pull taut around the syllables. "An' no action."

"No action? You don't think buying me beer and sending dick pics, begging for a fuck, is no action?"

"Aye—" he reaches for the beer he placed down beside his cap, and takes a generous swallow as you pretend the shift in his throat isn't making you a little light headed. He peels away with a grunt. "Ah do."

"Yeah?" You scoff, bringing the nozzle to your mouth to quench the ache in your throat. The soft preen coiling in your chest. Stupid words like, so what about it, pretty boy? wanna take me home. "What would you do instead?"

"I'd split yer pussy open on my cock in the loo. Let everyone in this bar hear ye moanin' fer me—"

You choke, barely have time to put the bottle down before you're haccking into your fist. He has the decency to pat your back as you wheeze.

"Ain't got a pussy," is what you settle for after a beat, voice hoarse. Wrecked. The way he shudders at the sound is unmistakable. Your neck feels hot. Itchy.

"Oh, sure ye do," he leans in close, warm breath fanning over your cheek. "A nice, tight little pussy fer me to fuck—"

"I'm a man." You feel a little stupid saying it. As if any part of you could be mistaken for slight. For soft. Feminine. You work with your hands. Grew up in the backcountry. Fishing before you could talk. Chewing tobacco before you hit puberty. Your old man made sure to pound that notion into your head before you even know what it meant to be a child. "I don't know what kinda games you're playing, but—"

"ahm no' playin' games," he shrugs, leaning back. It gives the idea of space. Distance. But his hand finds its way your denim-clad thigh, nails skimming the inside seam of your jeans wear the material is softer, worn down from friction. Too high to be appropriate.

You should move. Snap at him to take it off. Growl the words out if you have to do.

(Punch him, maybe. But he looks like the sort who would like that too much, you think. Rough. Dirty. Not afraid to fight back with his teeth if he needs to.

come on, baby, hit me harder—)

Your knee jerks. His grip tightens. "I got a cock. Not a pussy."

He makes a face at that. His full bottom lip juts out, angling to the side in confusion. "Ah ken? Ahm plannin' on ridin' that cock tonight, aye. The one yer little date is so desperate fer—"

"Jesus—" you wheeze, cock thickening in your jeans. Men aren't—

They're not usually so forward with you. It's nudging innuendos. Beer. A whispered wanna get outta here when the bar is about close and no one else is around to see it. You know what you look like. And it's not—

Soft.

"Easy," he taunts, grinning. "Don't choke so soon. 'aven't even go' ma cock out—"

You're not entertaining this. Absolutely not. He's—

Well. You're not sure what he is, but he's not normal. Not right. And you're not that desperate.

(maybe)

But the words die in your throat when his bright eyes glance down at your empty bottle, a frown forming over his pretty, pink lips like you not having anything to drink right away was somehow the most inconvenient thing to him.

"Get ye a drink?"

"Sure," you say, nodding. Then: "thanks."

It's softer. Gritty. The word scrapes over your throat in a way that almost hurts.

You blame it on the beer you drank before. Sloshing around your empty stomach and making you feel wildly off-kilter. Tipsy, maybe. Too drunk. Vulnerable to kindness (however threadbare it might be) when you usually get lewd pictures and beer you didn't ask for.

He flags the bartender down with a flick of his wrist. Keeps his eyes listed toward you as he leans over the counter, whispering something in his ear that you can't hear. Unease knots in your stomach. Cold fingers linking together, pressing frigid knuckles to your soft lining.

You look away when he drops back into his seat, hand finding its way back to your thigh. Gripping tight. Possessive. It curls around you. His warmth, his touch. The smell of him—sweet wheat, lemongrass; something earthy, like the damp, wet scent of mid-autumn; maple leaves stuck to the pavement after a late night rain shower—and you breathe slowly through your nose, both eager for the smell and sick of it. Sweet maple. Tart pumpkin. Your fingers twitch. You fold them into fists, glancing down at the spread of his hand on you.

His knuckles are red. Blotchy. Raw. The skin on his middle finger is cut across the wrinkled folds of his joint. The knick is deep. Almost a circle if not for the way it tears on the side, streaking outward. The outer edges of the crater are white. The inside pink before it turns to a deep red in the middle. Clotting already.

Your tongue feels like lead in your mouth. Unhinging your jaw takes more effort than you can expend, and you pant, a little, when your mouth finally pries apart. The words thicken on your tongue.

What happened—

The bartender comes back, his shadow falling over the counter. You jerk your head up, blinking at him as he places something down in front of you.

Something pink.

You swallow again. "Uh, what's this?"

"Sex on the Beach," the man answers, waving the bartender off. "Pretty drink fer pretty little thing."

"You wanna get punched? Because this is how you get your teeth knocked out—"

"Oh, baby," he purrs, accent rolling over the words in a way that goes straight to your cock. "If that's what yer intae, ah don't mind gettin' a little bloody fer ye. Might make suckin' yer pretty little cock easier."

Little. Your throat aches. Your mouth is dry. The beer is gone, cleaned empty bottles cleaned up by the bartender. Trying to swallow only makes the sting in your throat more prominent and does little to relieve the burn.

In front of you, the pink drink sits mockingly. Beads of condensation drip down the glass.

It's not even the stupid implication of a man drinking a cocktail that keeps you from reaching for it, but the fact that he ordered it for you with that in mind. Pretty drink fer a pretty—

Your throat clicks. Flesh glueing together when you swallow. Peeling away painful when you breathe.

Fuck it, you think. It doesn't mean anything. Not to you. Not at all.

When you reach for it, his head jerks over to you. Staring, unabashedly, as you bring it your lips and take a sip.

He groans. The hand on your thigh tightens. "Good girl."

It heats you up. Buzzes in the back of your head. You should get out of here. Leave. Go home and sink your head into your pillow, squeeze your eyes shut until all these terrifying feelings are snuffed out. Smothered. Tucked back into a box you didn't realise you had—

"Wanna come home wit' me? Let me fuck yer pretty pussy until I cum?"

The swell of anticipation in your chest makes you flinch. "I told you—"

"Ye want it, don't ye?" His hand moves higher up your leg, bleeding warmth through the denim. "Want me to make fuck ye. Make ye cum around ma cock. Bet ye have th' sweetest little cunt—"

"Fuck—" you shiver. His word wrap around your hindbrain, a soft touch that makes you feel hot. Itchy. Your heart pounds. You wonder if he can hear it. "I don't—"

"Gonnae let me taste it. Sit tha' pretty arse on ma face, aren't ye? Ride me until ye cum."

"I can't—" you force the words out of your throat, feeling the scrape against the soft tissue inside until it hurts. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but—"

"ahm tryin' tae take a pretty girl home—" girl. Girl. You shudder, feeling sick. Nauseous. "'ave her spread her pretty legs fer me..." he leans in, lips brushing your warm cheeks. "Let me ride that pretty cock until she cums—"

"Stop it—"

His hand finds your cock, thick in your jeans. Pressing tight against the zipper. "Gonnae fuck me so good, aren't ye? Not gonnae let ye cum unless it's inside me—"

"You're—ah, fuck—" his hand rubs over your bulge, eyes hooded, heavy, as you twitch. A wet spot grows, dark and unmistakable against the cool blue denim. "A—anyone ever tell you that you're kind of a freak?"

"an' yer a messy girl—" another pulse. The patch grows. It shouldn't turn you on. This sort of talk—it's not something you've ever been interested in before. Ever tried. Outside of porn—big, barrel chested men crushing another in their arms, growling about how they're gonna knock them up—it never surfaced. Never reared. "Gonnae let me clean ye up?"

You should say no.

It's on the tip of your tongue. No, leave me alone. Get the fuck off of me. Say that shit to me every again, and I'll—

His hand slides up, fingers curling over your clothed cock in a way that knocks the thoughts from your head, leaving nothing behind but an empty space. An ache. An itch. Something that needs to be filled.

Your phone chimes. Another text. You don't have to look down to know what it is, but his hand slides over, fingers dropping to the sleek, black surface. He pulls it to him with the pads of his index and middle finger. You should stop him. Grab it back. Leave—

"Need yer thick cock inside o'me," he narrates, mouth ticking up in a terrifying smirk. All teeth. A dogtoothed grin. "Now, there's a thought."

He dips his chin, tongue poking out from between his lips as he types something back in response. You can't see what it is from this angle, but the pinch in his brow, the glimmer in his eyes—you're sure this guy, potential candidate; looming mediocre lay, will have you blocked in five minutes. When he glances back, a tendril of something darkly satisfied brimming in the amber of his eyes, you amend it to right now.

You huff. "Shouldn't take things that don't belong to you."

The man stares at you for a moment, the corners of his eyes creasing in that same soot-stained amusement he had when he ruined your chances with the too-pink tip of his tongue hanging out. Satisfied dog. It's unnerving.

You think it scares you.

Or—

It should.

Whatever he finds as he fossicks through the fragments of your shattering composure, it seems to make him purr. His pupils expand. His nostrils flare. He leans in again, and you taste ash on your tongue. "M'ready tae leave."

It's not a question. The with you rings out like a gunshot in the back of your head.

You should say no. It's been on the tip of your tongue this whole time. No. No. Leave me alone. Go away—

But each time you try to pry apart your clenched jaws to say it, the look in his eyes make you think dogs and their bones.

You swallow this rancid thing in the back of your throat down. Make a jerking movement with your shoulder—a shrug, maybe. The twitch of your aching cock gives you away.

"C'mon, wannae fuck tha' little pussy o'yers," he rasps, words a tangled growl in the thick of his throat. Accent eliding. Slurring together. "Or ah'll have tae drag ye back tae the bathroom. Fuck ye in the shall. Make yer pussy cum on ma cock—"

You shiver. It's disgust. It's anger. It's—

His hand peels away from your thigh, reaches for your phone. He leans toward, and shoves it into the back of his pocket.

"what ahm I gonnae do tae ye?"

You know what he asking for. Feel the heat smoulder inside of your veins, burning up your neck. Be a man, you think. Be a man. Tell him to fuck off. Punch him. There's nothing soft about you. Nothing delicate. He's crazy. You're not—

His stare is paralyzing. You feel dread thicken in your stomach.

(dread, you think; your cock jerks. The front of your jeans are damp. The sticky drag of them on your groin calls you a liar.)

"Ahm no' askin' again, hen."

Your jaw unlocks easy this time. Opening with a quivering sigh that makes him groan low under his voice, eyes fixed on you. Drilling holes into your head. Needling his warped desire into your mind.

"You're gonna," your voice shakes. Heat sears your skin. It feels you're going to melt. "You're gonna fuck my—my pussy—"

The noise he makes is sinful. Liquid. Rich. A groan that breaks into a thrilling moan. Your stomach knots. Churns. You'd be sick if you had more to drink.

"C'mon—" he jerks his head toward the door, eyes blazing. "Gonnae ye exactly what ye need."

You go. Stand when he does, chin dropping to your chest in humiliation when your cock jerks at the idea. Sliding your jacket off your shoulders, holding it in your trembling fists as it covers your pelvis. The unmistakable need there for everyone to see.

Fuck yer pussy so good, he growls, ripping his wallet open and shoving a fistful of neat, straight notes on the counter. "Ain't gonnae need anythin' else when ahm done wit' ye. Gonnae be beggin' fer my cock inside ye—"

You should run. And when he steps back, motioning for you to move first, it feels like he's giving you the perfect opportunity to escape. To flee. You want to. You should.

But you don't. Something holds you back. Makes your teeth sink into your tongue. Jaw hinging shut. Snuffing out the words rotting in the back of your throat with a swallow.

You follow him quietly as he paws at you, rutting his cock against your thigh, whispering in your ear about all the terrible things he's doing to do. A better, more sensible man would've run, something holds you back.

The same thing that makes you ignore the reason why you haven't asked about his bloodied knuckles or wondered where your date is.

You know the answer already, don't you?

"Ahm gonnae fuck ye so good, hen. Won't be thinkin' about anyone else when ahm done wit' ye—"

It's what you've been looking for since the beginning.