oh the way the pres looked at bob. he looked at no one else that way

Anything Can Happen In The Next Half Hour - One

Spencer Reid x Reader

Spencer was exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep. He’d been lying in bed for an hour trying to convince his body to give in to the darkness but he just couldn’t shut off.

Sighing, he pulled out his cell. It was a long shot, it was 2am after all. But he wondered whether she’d be online still. The mysterious woman he’d started talking to five weeks ago on chatzone. Reid had made a profile on the site after overhearing Penelope telling JJ that she’d met her latest beau on there. Garcia was Pink-oracle, Reid had accidentally come across her online one night, and had quickly exited that chat room. He hadn’t uploaded any photos but he wasn’t taking any chances on Penny working out who Drblackjack21 was.

One evening he’d taken the plunge and private messaged a woman he’d been speaking with casually in a literary lovers chat room. Trancedancequeen was her screen name and she’d made a few casual remarks about one of his favourite authors and they’d struck up a banter. She was 28 and lived in the D.C area, which was intriguing for Spencer to know. Not that he’d ever end up meeting anyone from the internet…. Although, it had worked for Garcia, so who knew.

Trancedancequeen and Dr blackjack21 had fallen into easy conversation with each other, and most nights when Spencer logged in, she was there. A few times he’d beat her to it, and there were occasions that they missed each other, just leaving the odd offline message for each other which they’d respond to when they logged in. It was…. nice. Spencer found himself being bolder and feeling more confident speaking to this woman from behind a computer or cell phone screen, depending on what he was using. They shared similar interests in TV, films and literature and this woman didn’t seem bothered when he told her that he worked away a lot. She was apparently out of town a lot too, on business trips, although neither of them had shared what they did with each other.

The past few chats he’d had found himself engaging in what one could construe as risqué conversation. Not anything too bad, but Trancedancequeen had made a comment about finding a certain celebrity attractive, and then the conversation had turned from there into what their types were physically. TDQ had told Spencer she had long brown hair and green eyes, she was slim but curvy at the same time according to her description, and she liked tall guys with nice hair and nice lips. Not that her physicality mattered to Spencer too much, but she DID sound attractive. When Reid had described himself to her, she’d responded with, “You sound like just my type,” and then had proceeded to throw some flirty comments his way. At first he wasn’t sure how to respond to them but he just decided to throw caution to the wind, and go with it. He’d been talking to her earlier but had logged off to try and get some sleep, he didn’t have to go to work tomorrow but he’d felt exhausted after the week he’d had. But his brain was unable to rest. Logging back into the app, he was surprised to see the little light by her icon, a cartoon of a grinning kitten, flashing; signalling she was still online. He clicked the private message option.

Drblackjack21: Hi. Can’t sleep. Guess you couldn’t either.

TranceDancequeen: Nope… Can’t get my brain to stop thinking about work. Long week. Won’t bore you.

Dr: I don’t think you could ever bore me.

TDQ: Oh hush now. Smooth lines like that combined with the bottle of wine I’ve drank, and I’ll think you’re flirting with me.

Spencer grinned to himself and shifted on the bed.

Dr: What if I am?

TDQ: Then by all means, flirt some more. Wuu2?

Reid had initially had to Google the shorthand text speak that she’d used sometimes, not being used to it.

Dr: I’m lying in bed. I’m not really that good at flirting though.

TDQ: I’m in bed too. And I’m sure you are, you perhaps just don’t realise it.

Dr: Really, I’m not. Trust me.

TDQ: We’ll see. If you think you’re bad at flirting, how are you at sexting?

Spencer’s jaw dropped a little and he paused, not quite knowing how to respond.

TDQ; Shit, I’m sorry. I blame the wine. Unless… Of course, you want to?

Dr: Erm, I’ve never actually done it before…. But, I’m willing to try?

Spencer couldn’t believe he’d wrote that, he’d be terrible at this and she’d probably never end up speaking to him again. But….

TDQ: Alright…. So I’m lying in bed in my pink panties and a camisole. If you were lying with me, what would you do.

TDQ: PS - it’s that simple, but if you don’t want to then we can talk about something else.

Okay. Reid could do this.

Dr: If I was lying next to you (in nothing but my blue boxers), I’d start running my hand up and down your arm before moving your hair to one side and kissing your neck softly.

TDQ: I’d shiver at your touch and move my body closer to yours, my nipples hardening through my top at the feeling of your lips on me.

Fuck. She wasn’t wasting any time here. Spencer typed out a reply, thinking quickly. If he was with her, what would he actually do, that was all he had to write.

Dr: My hand drifts drift over to your chest, my fingers gently catching on your nipples, my lips moving lower.

The conversation went on in a similar vein for a while, Spencer feeling his dick growing hard and swapping his cell so the he could type with one hand, lightly palming himself with the other.

TDQ: I stroke up and down your length slowly, gripping you as your hands explore between my legs, feeling how wet I am.

Another message flashed up: click to view attachment.

Spender clicked it.

Jesus fucking christ.

The camera was at such an angle so that it showed the neck down only. She was holding her arm out and the photo showed her lying on her bed, the covers thrown off. The camisole she’d described was pulled down, exposing a pair of full, pale breasts with hardened pink peaks to the camera. The hand that wasn’t taking the photo, was between her legs, inside her underwear. Spencer groaned, licking his lips at the image. That was sexy as hell.

TDQ: You like?

Dr: Fuck…. I love.

TDQ: What about this one?

Another attachment appear and Spencer clicked it. It was a close up photo of her underwear, her legs spread. Spencer could see the discoloration of the fabric and his dick twitched when he realised why.

TDQ: See what you’re doing to me, doctor?

Dr: Oh fuck, I see. God, if I was there with you, I’d have to taste that.

TDQ: The question is…. What am I doing to you…

Could he? Fuck it. Spencer pushed his boxers down and took his cock into his hands, switching to camera mode and snapping a photo of his erection.

It didn’t look too bad…not that he really knew how a dick pic should look. Was there a certain etiquette to it?

Here’s to nothing. Spencer sent it.

TDQ: Oh my! Well…. I think I’d quite like to get my lips around that. Imagine them gliding up and down your shaft.

Spencer moaned as he imagined a brunette head of hair bobbing up and down on his dick as he slid his hand up and down it, feeling pre cum gathering at the tip. Typing was becoming a problem now, but he managed it anyway.

Dr: It would feel so good. I’d want to feel those wet lips on mine so I could make you feel the same way.

TDQ: Fuck, that sounds amazing. Grinding on your face as I suck you off. I’m so nearly there.

So was Reid. He was pumping faster now, going back to looking at the images she’d sent him.

Dr: I’d suck your clit in between my lips, rolling it with my tongue, feeling how wet you are for me.

There was a pause in her reply this time, but Reid could see that she was still online. He used that pause to his advantage, stroking himself harder, his hips bucking off the bed slightly as he felt the pressure begin to build up. Making sure his cover was clear of himself, he let the pressure release, feeling hot liquid spilling out onto his tummy just as another message flashed up.

TDQ: Fuck me….I just came so hard thinking of your head between my legs.

Reaching into his bedside drawer, Reid pulled out some baby wipes and quickly cleaned himself up, before typing back.

Dr: God, me too. That was… Wow.

TDQ: Yep… I suddenly feel ready to sleep. I don’t… Erm. I don’t normally do that by the way. Not on here. Thank you. It certainly released some tension. I’m logging off now. Speak tomorrow?

Dr: I’m glad I could help. And same. I’ve never done anything like that. Definitely speak tomorrow.

TDQ: Night night doctor.

He saw her light flash off to signal she’d logged off, and he did the same, settling down now feeling somewhat relaxed.

When Spencer awoke the next morning he logged straight back into chatzone. She normally wasn’t online so early at the weekends but he thought he’d give it ago.

She wasn’t online, but he could see she’d left him a message an hour ago.

TDQ: Hey. I’m probably overstepping a line here but, we both live in the same area and…. Well, I think that maybe we’d get on in real life. Would you maybe… Want to meet? I’m not a serial killer, I promise :)

Spencer hesitated before replying. He did get on with her, and last night was hella hot. And… Well it had worked out for Penelope. But it was completely out of the ordinary for him. But then again, so was last night. Maybe he did need to start taking some chances.

Dr: Okay. We can do that. I’m free this weekend, just name a time and place.

Spencer set his phone down, checking or every half an hour or so as he went about his morning errands. Finally at around 11am, he logged on to see she’d replied.

TDQ: Excellent. There’s a book cafe on second? Mutal ground. I can be there for 2pm. I’m feeling a daytime meet, just to make sure. :)

Spencer knew the place, and could see that she was still logged in. The message had only been sent three minutes ago.

Dr: Sounds like a plan. How will I known its you?

TDQ: I’ll try to get the booth in the corner and I’ll wear a dark purple sweater with silver stars on it. If we get on as well as I think we will, I’ll tell you my real name and give you my number.

Dr: Alright, I’ll be wearing a green duffel coat with a purple scarf. I’ll see you soon.

Spencer was nervous, so extremely nervous. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He pushed open the door of the cafe, inhaling the mixture of caffeine and books, and looked around.

She’d said she’d try for the corner booth so he made his way to the back, scanning the room for someone with brown hair and a purple sweater.

He could see a young woman sitting in the booth, chocolate brown hair loose over her shoulders and as he approached, he could see silver stars glittering on a purple jumper. She looked up from her phone which she’d been studying, tapping away, and then locked eyes with Spencer just as he reached the table.

It was only then he realised that he knew this girl.

Extremely well in fact. They’d worked together for the past eighteen months.

Her eyes raked over him, taking in his green duffel coat and purple scarf and Spencer saw her mouth form into an ‘o’ as she came to the same realisation just as he did, blushes forming on both of their cheeks.

“Shit!” were the first words Y/N said to him.

Nothing To Wear

Summary: Plus-size hunter reader x Dean. She wears a sexy top and he can’t keep his eyes off of her.   This was originally written on my phone, so please disregard any grammar issues. 
Word count: 2k
Warnings: Smut, NSFW, road head

Originally posted by almamatters

Another salt and burn was over. After digging up the grave, the boys and you decided to take showers and high tail it out of town tonight.
You showered and put on the only relatively clean shirt and bra you had left for the week and found a pair of only semi dirty dark wash blue jeans. Sure you had worn the shirt and bra earlier in the week but you had to flirt with a security guard to get some info about the case, you only wore it for like an hour, so it didn’t count.

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Words: 2.1k

Summary: Castiel feels like a useless sack and the reader tries to convince him otherwise. Set between LOTUS and First Blood.

Warnings: Smut, Praise!kink (attempt), Language, Painfully sweet fluff because Castiel deserves love.

A/N: 1)The nickname in this fic may come across as odd for Castiel, but will be explained in another story. 2) I was in a sad place after watching First Blood and needed Castiel to feel happy again; at least in the form of fan fiction. 3)This is my second attempt at writing smut. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.

Tags: (Let me know if you want to be added)

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Markhyuck!Fic “Risks & Improv” pt. 2

(Part One Found Here)

Who was this girl and what did she do with the real Kim Yerim?

Haechan and Mark watched the dark-haired girl, their friend of almost five years, in awe as she took turning up to a whole new level. She climbed up on a table, an unknown liquid beverage hand, and began swaying breezily to the beat of a fitting Selena Gomez song.

Tell them that it’s my birthday when I party like that~” she sang dazzlingly. A small crowd gathered around her and cheered her on, whooping and hollering at her impromptu performance.

Haechan and Mark watched from a distance. They sat in the corner of the living room on Yeri’s couch, nursing their drinks slowly.

“Should we do something about… that?” Mark asked, mimicking Haechan from earlier by gesticulating with his hand in her general direction. Haechan was too distracted to make the connection.

“Hm?” Haechan mumbled halfheartedly. His mind was somewhere else, his gaze directed into the contents of his red solo cup.

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Oral Presentation

Pairing: Tye Dillinger x Reader


Originally posted by thearchitectwwe

How did you guys get here?

First thing you know, you were just talking, hanging out with friends and now your lips are attached to Tye Dillinger’s…you guys were in the same group of friends but never really once spoken to one another as there was never much of a reason.

Apparently that changed tonight. To be honest, the feeling of his lips against yours; his body this close to yours was amazing.

“I’ve been wanting this for a long time.” Tye muttered in between kisses.

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The Picture

Author: Admin M

Character(s): Suga(Yoongi)/Reader

Word Count: 853

Summary: How do you help your boyfriend when he is having a little trouble and you are on your cycle?

“Ughhh!” Suga plopped down on the couch next to me. 

“Bad day at work?” I asked him continuing to read my book. 

“Yeah I guess you could say so.” He was rubbing his temples. 

“What happened?”

“Remember that um…” He paused. I looked at him notices he was fidgeting with his phone. “You know that um photo of…” He pointed to my chest.

“What are you talking about?” I closed my book.

“You know that night when we were well, you know messing are…”

“Having sex?" 

"Shhhhh!” Suga covered my mouth. I don’t know what it is with this boy but he is the childish boy I’ve ever seen.

“Come on Suga.” I swatted his hand away. “What’s wrong?”

“Well while you were asleep that night I may have took a picture of…”

“Picture of what Suga!” I knew where he was going with this and I was getting infuriated. 

“You know your…” He points to my chest.

“My BOOBS!" 

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anonymous asked:

21 + joshua

21. First time lowkey sub/dom Joshua

I’m so sorry I’ve been so inactive and slow with my writing but I’ll try to get back on the swing of it now! Thank you for being so patient and I hope…this at least somewhat satisfies everyones needs for some commanding Joshua ;)

“Thanks,” you said.

Joshua Hong had once again saved your day, making it the third time in one week - he truly was something else. This time, you had burned your fingers on the stovetop as you had almost lost your grip of a pot full of boiling hot water. It burned like hell and you had been nowhere near calm as you stormed around the kitchen, screeching in pain. Whereas you were a panicked mess, thinking your burn was worse than it actually was, Joshua stayed calm and drenched a towel under cold water, then yanking you closer so that he could press the towel on your hand.

Twenty minutes later, you were sat on the sofa, Joshua gently pressing a cold pack on to the palm of your hand. “No problem, but now that I’ve done something for you, maybe you could do a little something for me,” he says, his voice nearly breaking at the end. “What do you mean? You never ask for favours” you asked him, confused since every time he helped you and you offered to help him with something, he had declined your offer, saying that he didn’t need anything. Sometimes he would even say something as cheesy as “your love is all I need” which made you feel embarrassed, yet so warm.

“Babe…” he nearly moaned, squeezing the cold pack onto your hand a little harder. And then it clicked, he wanted you and when you realised that, you could feel your face flushing with heat and your cheeks turn a flushed shade of red. You had done the deed with him before but you couldn’t call yourself experienced, especially with Joshua who you only recently started dating.

“How?” you asked under your breath, not daring to look at him.

“Give me your hand”

“Are you serious? I nearly burned my hand off and now you want me to give you a-“

Your rant was quickly ended with a soft pair of lips on yours, Joshua’s hand cupping your cheek. He was a bit hesitant to slide his tongue into your mouth, but after you hummed approvingly and placed your hand behind his neck, he slid more of his tongue into your mouth. His kisses were addicting and he knew that, he knew very well that if he pampered you enough, you would give into anything. And so you did, you gladly granted him complete control of the situation, knowing that it would probably turn out better that way.

You dragged your non-burned hand from his neck, letting it touch his arm and chest, before placing your hand on top of his on his lap. “Don’t worry, you’ll do amazing,” he chuckled, breaking the kiss and flashing you his sweet and comforting smile which had no correlation with the already hardening situation in his pants.

He guided your hand up to the buttons of his jeans, which you quickly unbuttoned and pulled down. You didn’t really need the hand-to-hand guidance but when you tried to pull your hand away, Joshua was not having it. He looked straight into your eyes and clicked his tongue, brushing your hair off your face with his free hand. “We are doing this my way okay,” he said, sending chills down your spine.

He was so hot like this, straightforward and commanding. And yes, he was usually the one to top or finish first but this was your first time seeing him this dominant and you had to admit that you liked it. Although, you still saw him as the precious sweetheart Joshua, he did pull of the dominant role pretty well.

He continued guiding your hand to the waistband of his boxers, hissing when your slightly cooler hand touched his warm skin. He helped you pull his underwear off, as you were inevitably still feeling a burning sensation in your other hand. “That’s it,” he leans back on the sofa, letting out a long breath.

You ran your fingers over his member, eliciting yet another sigh from him. He props himself into a better position, letting himself lean onto your shoulder as you spread his pre cum over his length.

You smile when you feel him jolt - you found his sweet spot. “Is this good?” you asked teasingly, fully aware that he felt incredibly good because of his panting and the way his hand was digging into your thigh. “Mmm, you’re so good at this. Are you sure you don’t know what you’re doing?”

“Trust me, I have no clue.” His eyes were locked on you as you got on your knees in front of him, you didn’t know how he’d react but you decided that working him with just one hand was less…efficient and you had to admit that you did want a taste of him as well.

“Are you sure about this?” Joshua asked, voice low and husky. “Y-Yeah” you said, averting your gaze from him. “I want to” you breathed, heart pounding against your chest. “Okay babygirl -“ he said, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling your face so close to his length that your lips were pressed against his tip. “- Do me good,” he continued and bit his lip while watching you take his length in your mouth.

“Press your tongue right there,” he ghosted his finger up the side of his shaft. From time to time, you looked up at him, and seeing his head thrown back and chest rising up heavily every time you hit a sweet spot, was very entertaining for you to watch.

Growing in confidence as you watched him, you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, lightly sucking and licking at it. “Ah, honey, don’t…do that too much or else I’ll cum too fast,” he told you, letting his hands curl up in your hair even tighter, making you in turn let out a blissful moan.

As told, you didn’t focus too much on the tip of his cock, wanting the experience to go on for longer, so you decided to engulf more of his length. You relaxed your throat as much as you could and once your mouth hit the base, Joshua let out a loud groan, holding you in place. “Oh wow” was all he could say before letting you continue sucking him off.

Bobbing your head up and down on shaft, you’d lick his tip every time you came back up, enjoying the way he writhed on the couch, letting out some occasional sinful words from that beautiful mouth of his. To tease him, you’d take him all the way in and then back out, repeating this over and over again, driving Joshua closer to his limit.

Your name fell from his lips yet again, this time with a clear order that you gladly obeyed. “Make me cum.”

You began to go down on him faster, harder and with a muffled moan, he released into your mouth, cock twitching in your mouth. After releasing it all, he pulled his cock out of your mouth and you took your time in swallowing all of his releases, showing him your clean mouth after doing that.

He laughed a little and shook his head. “You’re always so eager to help me,” he said, pulling you to sit back next to him. You nodded and let out a content sigh as you let your head rest on his shoulder, taking in all that just happened. You looked down at your red and burnt hand, the pain almost gone now. “I’ll make sure to reward you later, okay.” You could tell that he was a little tired now after reaching his climax so it would take some time for you to get your “reward” but for now, a soft kiss on the top of your head was enough.

“Yes please, because I can for a fact tell you that my hand isn’t the only part of me burning at the moment.” You said, snuggling as close to him as possible.

Admin Memesol

I Love You (Shawn Mendes Smut Imagine #3

 I have been in the studio all day watching Shawn record his new album. It was lowkey turning me on watching him sing with so much passion. The way the veins in his arms stuck out. Fuck, he is so hot. Shawn and I have been dating for almost nine months and I know I am absolutely sure he is the one I love and want to make love to. I have had sex once before, but everyone makes mistakes… I was awoken from my daydream when I heard the door open and there was Shawn walking out of the room he recorded in. 

“Hey, baby. Ready to head home?” He said as he grabbed his guitar case. 

“Ye-yeah.” I replied with unholy thoughts on my mind. 

On the way home, I wanted to drop hints. I didn’t want it to seem like it was me asking for it. I was wearing a tank top and flannel, so every once in a while I would slowly pull down my shirt gradually. I was nervous, but I knew I was ready. I needed to find a way to turn him on. I reached my arm over and rested my hand on his lap. 

“I hope you know how much I love you. I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.” 

“I love you too” He said with a confused look on his face. 

I took a breath and slid my hand up a bit higher. I didn’t want to distract him too much because he was driving. My mind was racing but I know I want this more than anything. I bit my lip and looked out the window thinking of what he could do to me. 

About fifteen minutes later, we arrived at our shared apartment. As soon as we got home, I ran up to the bathroom and put matching underwear on and shaved… everything. I threw on one of Shawn’s flannels and my shorts. I made sure that a decent amount of cleavage was revealed. 

I pulled a chair into our bedroom and put music on. I let my hair down and sprayed a little bit of perfume on.

“Shawn, come here.” I said as I sat on the chair.

“Yes, babe?” He opened the door and his eyes widened. 

“Sit. I want to try something.”

“Babe, wha-”

I cut him off. 

“Shh. Just watch.” 

I turned so my back faced him. I bent over, slowly came up, and flipped my hair back. I danced slowly and unbuttoned his/my flannel. I turned around and slowly approached him. I put my hands on his shoulders and straddled him. He put his hands on my waist and kissed my neck. I moaned under my breath and tilted my head back. 

It was finally working. 

I felt the bulge developing in his pants. I started grinding on him in hopes he would grow harder. I licked my lips and continued. 

Shawn stood up and threw me on the bed. 

“I know you know what you are doing to me.” 

I giggled as he took his shirt off. I ran my fingers down his toned abs. 

He kissed me and put both of his hands on either side of my head. My hands found their way down to his belt. I unbuckled it and unzipped his pants as fast as I possibly could. He stood up and kicked his pants off and took off his boxers freeing his erection. 

“Your turn.”

He got back on the bed and stripped me down to nothing. 

“You are so sexy.” He said in awe. He put both of my legs around his shoulders and stopped and stared at my bare pussy. I quickly crossed my legs covering myself up.

“You don’t have to hide from me, baby. You are beautiful. You can trust me.” 

I slowly became less tense and let Shawn continue. 

He began by licking up all my folds. A loud moan escaped my mouth. He worked my folds while his thumb worked on my clit. I never knew anything could feel so heavenly. 

“Fuck, Sh-Shawn, baby.” 

He took my clit between his teeth and tugged gently. His tongue went up and down my clit and made it’s way down to my entrance and his tongue went inside of me. I couldn’t hold it in anymore, I had to let loose. Right as I was about to, he stopped and pushed two fingers inside of me and started pumping faster and faster. This pushed me over the edge. I came all over his fingers. He made eye contact with me and cleaned off his fingers. 

“My turn.” He said. 

He sat on the edge of the bed and motioned me to come over. I knew what to do. I got on my knees and started pumping him. 

“Tell me how bad you want my mouth on your cock.” I said cheekily. 

“This isn’t fair. I didn’t tease you.”

“I don’t play by the rules. Now tell me, Shawn. Tell me how bad you want me to wrap my lips around your huge cock.” I paused.

“Tell me, Shawn.”

“Please, I want you to suck me off so bad.” 

With that, I licked the pre-cum off of his tip. I licked up his cock and put the tip in my mouth. I started bobbing my head. He grabbed my hair and pushed my head down. I bit the bullet and took him all the way in my mouth. It was so big, it was halfway down my throat. When he came, I felt it go down the back of my throat. He moaned in pleasure. 

While I was still on my knees, I looked up at him with an innocent face. 

He pulled my up and laid me down. He was rubbing his tip on my folds and it was driving me fucking insane.

“Shawn” I moaned. 

With a cheeky smile, he mocked me. “Tell me how much you want me inside of you.”

“I want you so f-fu-fucking b-bad.”

“Beg.” He said while sucking on my nipple and rubbing himself on me.


He aligned his tip with my entrance and pushed inside me slowly. We both let out a loud moan. 

He looked at me for reassurance and I shook my head. He began to thrust faster and faster.

“Oh shit, Shawn. So good! You feel so fucking good.” I practically screamed. 


He did as I said. Nothing but the sounds of moans, panting, and each other’s names filled the room. 

I flipped him over so that I was on top. I began riding him gradually picking up my pace. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. I loved the way his nose scrunched up when I pleased him. I love the way his mouth opens. I love the way the bed squeaks. I love the feeling our skin together. 

As I rode him, he reached up and squeezed my boobs. 

I laid down on top of him and kissed his neck and tugged his hair. He moaned as he began to thrust up into me. 

“I’m close, oh fuck!” I yelled. 

“Hold it in.”

I did as I was told until it became unbearable to hold. I came all over his cock. 

“Oh (y/n)!” He said as he came a few thrusts after I came. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He collapsed beside me on the bed, pulled the sheets over out naked bodies, cuddled up next to me, and fell asleep. 

//mom and dad i hope youre proud of me//

Originally posted by shawnskisses

hes so cute :)


Summary:  “You know what your uncle always says, ‘You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.’”   What was Jack thinking as he ran toward the haus right after graduation? A peek at Jack Zimmermann falling in love with Eric Bittle. A love as sweet as honey.

Originally posted by itsybittle

“You know what your uncle always says, ‘You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.’”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, go say goodbye. You won’t be back here for some time, you know? If that’s what your heart is telling you, you should go… Go really say goodbye.”

Jack let the words his father said sink in, and then he knew exactly where he needed to be. Where he wanted to be.


In that instant, Jack took off. He didn’t even bother removing his graduation gown. He ran through the park and straight toward the haus. Immediately, moments the two had shared began splattering across his mind. And Jack ran hard, spurred on by a single word. Bitty.


The knots were what appeared first. Deep and unrelenting, churning and turning in the pit of Jack’s stomach. Then, it was a cold sweat at the base of his spine – a cold that refused to leave, no matter how much he willed it. Anytime Bad Bob came to see him play, it was always the same. His anxiety would rear its head and continue to hang around even after the fact. Fucking fantastic.

Proud. He wanted to make his father proud, but what if he failed? Crisse. At least his mother wouldn’t be coming out this time around. It’s not that Jack didn’t want to see Alicia, but if he failed…well, no need to have them both be a witness to that.

“No, I want you to come papa, I swear,” Jack said clutching his phone tightly.

The cool breeze outside helped a bit, but only a bit. Jack swung his legs as he sat at the end of the loading dock.

“You know my anxiety is going to be a problem no matter what. It’s not you! Sorry, yeah, sorry. Okay. I have to go back.”

He ended the call and cradled his head in his hands, trying to steady his breath. He hadn’t had a full-blown panic attack in a while, so at least Jack was thankful for that.

“Shit,” he muttered.

“Are you okay?”

He looked up and saw Bittle standing by the door. Bittle approached slowly and sat next to Jack. In his lap, a box of jock straps.

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“We were just having fun” (part 2) - Austin Carlile imagine

So here it is, the 2nd part of “We were just having fun”! I tried to do my best (and to write most of it in Austin’s POV), I hope you’ll all enjoy it ;) you can read the part 1 here.

And I’ll start taking requests again in just a few days!

Warning, SMUT ahead!

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Kitty-Cat *Andy Biersack Imagine*

Little bells jingled throughout the halls of your home. They were made onto a silky red bow tied around your neck with a little heart-shaped name tag that hung from it.

It clinked against your little milk bowl while you lapped at it. You tried your best to be quiet and not wake your daddy. He had been quite busy with his work, and needed to rest as much as he could. Even though daddy wasn’t always the most tender towards you, you still loved him. He would occasionally pat you on the head and only play with you whenever he felt like it. Daddy was very firm and straight forward. This doesn’t mean that you were a neglected kitty, but that also didn’t mean that he did not need to show you affection every now and again.

“(y/n)” Andy calls from his bedroom “Come here kitty”

You crawl to his bedroom where you smell the harsh scent of a cigarette. He lied in bed taking a few drags of the cigarette before looking down at you. His smile was faint, and he still had a sleepy look on his face.

“There you are, baby.” He tickles your chin. “Come up here.”

You climb onto the bed, sitting next to him. His face wasn’t in a smile nor frown or scowl, just very straight and almost emotionless. You were used to it, he just probably wanted some company, then when he got bored with you he’d send you off or ignore you. He wasn’t the best at showing that he loved you, even though he did deep down.

He pats your hair a couple of times, then cupping your cheek. You hugged his arm, snuggling your cheek into his palm. You nuzzle further down into his hand, coaxing him to rub your hair and pet you properly.

“You’re a cute one, aren’t you?” He says with a faint grin.

You nod, looking at him with innocent eyes and pouty lips. Andy runs his thumb over your bottom lip, slipping it inside of your mouth. You suckle on it gently, looking him in the eyes.

“Good girl.” He pulls his hand away. “Daddy has a treat for you.”

He pulls down the blanket, exposing his hardened member poking through his underwear. The tip peeked from atop of the waistband, a reminder of his impressive size.

“Look at it, kitten.” He purrs. It twitched and grew more the longer you stared at it. You licked your lips, already able to taste him inside of your mouth.

“Do you want it?” Andy squeezes himself.

“Yes, Daddy.” You murmur.

Andy let’s himself free. You lean over his hips, taking him into your hands. At first, you begin with small kisses and licks all over the warm shaft. Your tongue tasted his unique flavor, savoring each bit of it. Your tongue swirled around the head, then flicked back and forth over the small slit, where his juices leaked from. The shaft itself was traced up, down, and in circles. All enough to cause Andy to push your head down. You bobbed your head up and down, taking as much as you can without choking.

“That’s it, pussycat,” He says. “Suck Daddy’s dick.”

You move your head away, keeping your swollen lips parted. Saliva and pre cum strung from your lips onto his cock. It turned Andy on to see your mouth being fucked just like any other hole he plays with on your body.

Before he finishes, he pushes you back, away from his dick. You lie beside him, where he pushed his hand down your panties, and begins to play with your bits.

“Speaking of pussy, when was the last time you’ve had yours properly played with?” Andy asks.

You blush, looking away.

“You play with your kitty, don’t you?”

“…yeah” you say softly.

“Is she fun to play with?” He presses his middle finger onto your clit, rubbing it in circles.


“Yeah? Is this what you like to do?”

Your hands wrap around his wrist, pushing his fingers harder into you. His fingers rub back and forth at a harsh pace, making you squeal and whimper.

Your panties are pulled down to your ankles where as your legs are push apart, showing Andy everything you had. The small, pink, clit of yours pulsed for him to touch it again. Your hole became more and more wet as your juices rolled down your smooth skin.

Andy patted the area in front of him. You crawl into his lap, him petting you down your back and over your ass. He rubbed circles over both of your cheeks.

“Lay in front of me.” He says.

You reposition yourself in front of him. You spread your legs, giving him a better view of your eager bits. Andy sits back in bed, admiring the provocative form.

“Oh, pussycat…” Andy coos, tracing his finger over your wet crease. He lowers his mouth down to your folds, separating the two before taking a lick. A bit of his saliva drips from between his his lips, down your clit, disappearing into your hole.

“You have such a pretty little pussy.” He licks in between your lips, then blowing a bit between them. “I need to help you play with it more.”

You whimper, tensing below the hips. The waves of pleasure were already taking control before the real fun even began, although you weren’t ready to release just yet.

“I can’t wait to fuck this little pussy.” He pinches your lips together. “You’re always so tight around my dick.”

He pushes your legs back, exposing your bottom. As he’s doing such, he pulls a butt plug from the nightstand with a fluffy tail attached to it. Next, he squeezes a bit of lubricant on the tip, to ensure that it goes inside of you nice and easy.

You see what he has, spreading your cheeks apart.

“Relax.” He says, pushing the toy inside of you. Your eyes squeeze shut, hissing in pain. Once it was in, you wiggled around trying to adjust to it. The pressure wasn’t unbearable, but it wasn’t the greatest feeling at first.

“Now you’re a proper pussycat. ” he pats your bottom, letting your legs relax down onto the bed. “Show Daddy how you play with your kitty.”

Again, you spread your legs for him, then separating your folds. You pinch and toy with each one before holding them apart for better access to your clit. Your fingers tap and roll back and forth over the swelling bundle, making it throb each time you touched it. Unable to completely satisfy yourself, you take Andy’s hand and place it onto your pussy. You grind your hips back and forth over his knuckles, moaning with sensation. He wasn’t doing anything besides watching you while you played with his hand, and it drove you mad.

He smiled a little at the sight before him. His kitten with her legs wide open and using his own hand to get herself off. This is what he loved to see you doing, letting go and doing the most raunchy things to pleasure yourself.

“Do you want something else?” Andy offers, pumping his dick. You nod, sitting up.

“Then sit right here on Daddy’s lap.”

You sit on your knees, straddling him as you carefully push yourself down onto him. His length plunged deep inside of you, all the way until the backs of your thighs touched his hips. He holds your waist while you bounce up and down on him, using the strength in your knees to push you harder and faster.

Andy guides you, taking a bit of the pressure from your legs. While you’re riding him, his tongue freely licks you wherever it pleased. Your face, neck, chest, breasts, anywhere he could.

“Look at me” Andy lifts your chin. He sticks his tongue back out, as you do the same. Your tongues lick and rub together while your riding became more like harsh pounding.

Andy pushes you backwards, putting one of your legs over his shoulder, fucking you with quick thrusts. You hold yourself up on his shoulders, planting a kiss on his lips. Andy kisses back, leading you to bite and suck on his bottom lip.

His hands push you back, holding your shoulders down and thrusted deeper.

“Ah… Daddy!” You cry out. “Oh Daddy!”

“Like that, little pussy?” He asks, leaving love bites all over your neck.

You are then flipped over onto your side. Andy spoons behind you, lifting your leg to re enter you from behind. You move the fluffy tail over your hip, out of his way so he can pound into you as hard as he’d like. Andy lifts your leg, resting his arm under your knee. His fingers tease with your clit again, adding pleasure.

“Is this what you like, kitten? Daddy fucking with your clit?”

You couldn’t respond, only squeals and groans escaped your lips. It felt so good! Almost too good to be real. This was something that only would happen in your dreams.

Before you know it, you feel your orgasm taking over, spilling out from the inside. Your hips buck wildly as Andy tried to hold you still. He was still working on finishing himself.

Hot fluid filled you up on the inside. It dribbled out along with your own, creating a sloppy mess on the bed.

“Fuck that’s hot.” He breathes, slipping out of you.

You lied down biting your lip and your eyes shut, still finishing the last bit of orgasm left inside of you. Andy turned you over on your stomach, lifting your hips. He slowly pulled the tailed butt plug from inside of you. You gripped the sheets while the toy slipped out of your tight ring.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, girly.” Andy pats your butt, getting off of the bed.

You pull yourself out of bed, taking Andy’s hand as he leads you to a nice, hot, shower.

anonymous asked:


John was practically vibrating in the cab seat. He kept bouncing his knee while he clenched his hands into fists and dug his knuckles into his thighs.

The text had been brief:
You’re required at NSY. Bring a change of clothes and personal toiletries. Be clean before you arrive. I paid for a cab to pick you up. Meet you there.

Weeks ago, possibly months, in the fiery heat of filthy sex with Sherlock, John had let loose what was possibly his wildest fantasy, the sort of thing he’d been wanking to for many years and never once actually entertained as becoming reality. He’d blurted it all out while Sherlock egged him on, smokey voice rough with desire and swirling in John’s head, cranking up the arousal, until John reached a fever pitch of near-sobbing need. He’d never in his life been so turned on before, never. Sherlock kept edging him closer to orgasm but continually denied it from happening, and every time he nudged John to tell him his secrets, his fantasies, his filthiest, dirtiest desires…

John been on his back, legs flailing in the air while Sherlock slowly inched back inside him, his own cock so hard it could cut a diamond and John had just opened his mouth and it all tumbled out.

I wanna be a toy, a filthy boy for come, I wanna be fucked by strangers in a dark room and filled and covered in come, I wanna taste it and smell it and have it all over me, I want that hot, sticky come in my hair, on my face, I wanna be so dirty, so bad, so fucking filthy, Sherlock–

John shivered. Just thinking back on that, how utterly ashamed he’d been later on when his senses came back and the feverish passion had ebbed. He’d never admitted that to another living soul, not even aloud to himself, though he’d wanked over it often. It was just one of those things meant to be secret. No one wants to admit to being a cumslut. A cumdump. A dirty slutty boy who wants to take cock after cock in both his holes and be filled come.

Sherlock had taken care of him, though. He’d shared a few of his own wild fantasies (honestly, John would have never guessed Sherlock had a thing for feet) and held John in his arms and all the shame melted away to be replaced with a sense of calm. John felt properly loved.

He’d all but forgotten about what he’d said as the weeks went by. Life had gone on, the sex was sometimes wild and sometimes not, and the world kept spinning.

Until approximately thirty seven minutes ago when that text had chimed on his phone.

And now he was sitting in a cab on his way to NSY, clean, inside and out, and he had a bag with him containing fresh clean clothes and various things for hygiene - toothbrush, toothpaste, a whole box of wet wipes.

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anonymous asked:

Hi. As a prompt for you: You know these AUs where you have your soulmates first sentence to you tattooed somewhere on your body? What if every Hale (really every Hale) Stiles meets says THAT sentence to him? This could either be really funny or really tragic.


(Ok so there’s some Stora in this but not really, basically Stiles just thinks he’s supposed to be into Cora for angst reasons. It’s obviously Sterek through and through, even if Stiles doesn’t realize that.)

Stiles has always felt pretty lucky about his soul mark. It isn’t anything hugely embarrassing, though a little on the side of standoffish. (He’d lamented at one point about how he obviously wasn’t going to make a good first impression on his soulmate, and his dad had just snorted, clapped him on the shoulder, and said “first impressions aren’t really your forte, kid. I wouldn’t worry about it. You grow on people.”) But most of all, most importantly of all, it’s specific. Not as specific as Scott, who’d lucked into a formal introduction on his soul mark (“hi, I’m Allison”) but it’s still pretty darn good.

After all, how many conversations tend to start with “This is private property”?

(Stiles likes to point out his mark as an excuse for his less than totally law abiding nature growing up. After all, “if I never do anything I’m not supposed to I’ll never meet my soulmate. I’ll be alone forever. You wouldn’t want that, would you dad?”)

He’s seventeen years old when he hears it, sliding into his usual desk in history class and noticing a piece of folded up looseleaf abandoned on the corner from the previous period.

He takes it idly, starts unfolding it when a slim hand darts out of nowhere, snatching it away.

This is private property.”

Cora freaking Hale.

They’d gone to school together for years but had never been forced to interact, ending up in different classrooms, gravitating toward different social circles. She’s slight but obviously strong, with long, dark hair tied back in a basic ponytail and eyes that could cut you at a thousand paces, and Stiles feels his mouth hanging open, gaping at her.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, and immediately flinches. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

Cora just rolls her eyes, sliding the note into her pocket and snorting, like she hadn’t expected anything different. And of course she hadn’t, she’d grown up with that written on her arm. Already a first class soulmate, Stilinski. He can’t believe he’d sentenced Cora to a lifetime of “holy shit” coiling across her skin.

She’s tossing her hair back, watching him with dark eyed amusement.

“No problem,” she says, a grin teasing across her lips. “Just keep your hands to yourself from now on.”

“I didn’t touch you,” he says, voice breaking as it goes high. He can’t believe his making this bad of an impression. She flashes her teeth in a grin that’s easy and dangerous and, yeah, hot, ok? He’d definitely won the hot soulmate lottery and he’s still kind of wrapping his head around that one.

And she’s being so freaking cool about it, too. So casual. He’s just trying to keep his heart from rattling out of his chest.

“You touched my shit,” and he’s pretty sure she’s teasing. He’s pretty sure. She’s his soulmate so he’s definitely pretty sure on that one. She pokes his chest pointedly, before backing up a step and turning away. “Don’t touch my shit.”

And then she’s backtracking up the aisle, toward the door, and he lets out a frantic sound, tripping out of his chair so fast he bangs his knee on the underside of it.

Hey, ow, wait. I mean. Should we… could we hang out later, maybe?”

She turns back, one perfect brow arching.


It’s such a nonsensical question that Stiles just stares for another second. He feels the eyes of the other students on him and shifts under the heat of their smirking or sympathetic gazes.

“I’d just… We should get to know each other better.”

He fights a wince as soon as he says it. He’s obviously already screwed this up. He’s going to be one of those soulmates. The ones with the unfinished bonds, the ones whose partners end up with someone else anyway. It happens sometimes, soulmates don’t make you a sure thing. He should’ve known he would be so immediately unappealing, should’ve known his soulmate would take one look at him (if she hadn’t decided against him before they’d even met because holy shit, really?) and decide to screw destiny.

“Stilinski, right?”

He’s jolted out of his rising panic and nods, a quick, desperate bob of his chin.

“Alright. I’ve got field hockey until 5 tonight. Pick me up after, you can drive me home.”

And then she’s gone, not so much as waiting for an agreement before sweeping off to her next class. He slumps back down into his seat, a dazed grin slipping over his lips until Scott drops down next to him.

“Dude, did you really just ask out Cora Hale?”

He turns his dizzy-pleased smile back on his friend.

“I asked out my soulmate.”

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anonymous asked:

Can you do a one shot where you and harry have been daiting for awhile and he catches some punk trying to kiss you and he gets all protective? Oh and can you add some smut;) thanks love your work!!!!

Thanks dollface!! 

You don’t know if you’ve ever seen Harry so quiet.

His hands are wrapped tight around the steering wheel, jaw clenched and muscles taut. Next to him in the passenger seat, you struggle with the idea of trying to speak to him or let him cool off on his own. Even though you know he’s not angry with you, you can’t help feeling a little guilty. Maybe if you had taken Harry’s suggestion to go home early instead of insisting on a few more dances, one more drink or two, then that drunken idiot wouldn’t have staggered over and put his hands all over you. The man (you didn’t bother to get his name, only knowing that he was an acquaintance of a friend of a friend) had been sloppy and uncoordinated, and although he was tall and heavy on you, you’d managed to push him off of you easily enough. You caught Harry’s eye from over several people’s heads, and you remember clearly the sharp look in his eye, his face showing annoyance as he waited by the bar to bring you your drink. It was when you were trying to communicate with him from across the room that you were okay, that you had things under control, that Drunk Man had groped your ass and pressed his clammy face to your neck in a terrible excuse for an affectionate gesture.

You’d barely gotten over your revulsion when Harry appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and with a fierce right hook he had sent Drunk Man sprawling to the floor. Shock rippled through the small crowd of onlookers, several of whom knew Harry on some level and never thought they’d see the day when he socked someone in the face, yet there he had stood over the guy’s prone body, and you had scarcely seen him look so menacing. Fists clenched and ready for round two, Harry would have none of it when whoever it was that had come with Drunk Man tried to pick his inebriated, sexually aggressive friend off the ground, looking appropriately ashamed as he attempted to apologize for whatever transgressions had been committed. Amid various obscenities and admonishments and threats, Harry wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you so tightly to his side that you were almost purely leaning against him, and hauled your speechless self off to angrily collect your coats and then it was out to the car.

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Three Wishes - Jaime Preciado
Could I get a Jaime one where the reader is feeling really insecure in her Halloween costume (you choose) and he decides to make her feel sexy. Kinda smutty and fluffy? Thank you in advance!

This is my first smut ever, written by Afiya 


“Are you ready yet?” Jaime called, from the other side of the door, “We’re gonna be late.” Mike’s annual Halloween party, filled with alcohol, weed, and the occasional fights. “Do you need help?”

“One sec!” I pull my shorts down a bit as I look in the mirror, my shorts are too short, my thighs are too big. Why did I let Jaime talk me into this costume? My midsection showed way too much, “I just need to adjust.”

“Adjust what?” I hear his voice against the door, “It was perfect last week, you liked it last week.” Last week I didn’t look like shit. “What do you need to adjust?”

“I don’t know? Stuff…do you think I gained weight?”

“That’s crazy, you didn’t gain weight. I’m coming in.”

“No, don-,” but before I could finish my sentence, he’s opened the door and walked into the room. He was already dressed as a pirate.

After a few seconds of silence as he stops to take me in. “Woah.”

“Yeah, I know, I’ll take it off I’m sorry,” I turn towards the mirror, “I’ll just wear something else, it’s whatever.”

“You look…”

“Terrible I know.” My hands go to my waist, about to strip myself of this horrible genie costume, but he stops me, “perfect, you look perfect.” He smirks, “but if you really want to take it off, I can help you.” He nibbles on my ear a bit and carries me to the bed, where he begins to rub me, and whisper dirty words in my ear, “Yeah, you like that?” I moan and nod in reply. “So Ms. Genie, if I rub you the right way… can I get three wishes?” I get wet through the thin material of my shorts and the black lingerie Jaime also bought me last week. He’s never seen me in them.

“Yeah, three wishes.” He rubs me faster till I begin to shake.

“Do I get my wishes now?” I nod, and he continues, “I wish you’d strip for me.” He sits on the bed and I get up to turn on iHome. Cherry Pie begins to play and I swing my hips to the melody.  My heart begins to pump with nervousness and anticipation as I move my hands to my hips and drop them. His eyes glue onto my crotch, the lace panties not hiding much from the imagination, till I throw my shirt at him, and he picks me up, throwing me on the bed. “Wish two: I want to to ride me.” His voice deep and husky. “Now.”

So I begin by taking off his shirt and kiss lips, pressing onto them as I rub his crotch, then down his jawline and neck, I leave a few love bites before moving to his special spot behind his ear. Licking and sucking, I feel him harden under me. His pants tighten before he rips them off. Kissing and licking my way down his chest, I stop at his happy trail, though his hands press for me to go further, I stop.

“Please, keep going Y/N.”

“That wasn’t the wish.”

“Don’t tease me.” Doing as told, I take off the lingerie and hop on his member, which was standing straight up. “Shit you’re so tight.” Holding onto my waist, he pumps me up and down so fast I can’t tell what’s up and what’s down. “Please.” I beg him, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Not yet, not yet Y/N.” He goes faster and starts to pump his whole member into me, hitting all the right spots. The pit in my stomach turns into a pulling sensation, starting in my core and making me hotter every stroke that Jaime gave me. “Fuck.” I hear him gasp, and he starts pumping a bit more sloppily, and faster. He turns us over and pumps faster, making me hotter with beads of sweat on my skin. “You feel so good.”

“I can’t hold on any longer Jaime.”

“Let go.”

He continues to smash into me before I cum onto him. “Jaime, shit.. oh my god Jaime!”

He pulls out, but doesn’t cum yet, instead he looks at me with a fire in his eyes and he grabs my hair a bit, “One last wish.” He breathes a bit heavier, “Go down on me.”

Climbing on top of him, I follow the happy trail down to his happy member and lick the tip a bit, getting acquainted. I suck off the tip and look up at Jaime, who pushed my head down, making his member go into my mouth as I slowly bob up and down. Careful not to graze with teeth, I try to go faster and faster till I feel him buck his hips up and down. I taste the salty pre-cum and he explodes inside of my mouth. I swallow and slow down my head bobs before I come to a complete stop.

“Let’s just lay here a bit.” He wraps his arms around me, but I push him away and get up.

“We’re going to be late.”

What Beth and Daryl have in common:

But first, let me address that I’m so tired of this bullshit people are spewing in the anti-Bethyl tags that they could never relate to one another because she had a “privileged” life, especially because the entire point of Still and Alone was to show them bonding with one another through their ability to deeply relate:

  • First of all, what fucking part of a zombie apocalypse is privileged to you?
  • Ok, so let’s interpret her past, now. Look at Hershel’s home when they first arrive on the farm.  Look at Beth’s hand-me-down clothes, worn cowboy boots, old furniture and largely un-decorated bedroom.  They had nice things, but they did not have especially nice things.  They did not struggle, but they weren’t pretentious like you imply they were when you say “privileged.” They were hard-working. They were blessed by their family’s homesteading.  They had a home and cattle property and family heirlooms, not a mansion and Pottery Barn items and benz’s. They were not in poverty, but they still led relatively modest lifestyles.
  • They had the kind of living I like to think Daryl would have longed for if he’d grown up in an encouraging environment, and Daryl doesn’t tend to expect very grand things to come his way, so you know he’d consider this a modest enough aspiration.
  • No, she wasn’t as destitute as we can assume Daryl was, but even Daryl had a house.  They specify that his mother died in a house fire, a house in a neighborhood where children all got bikes,as opposed to a trailer park fire.  Perhaps he grew up in a trailer after the fire– his dad probably couldn’t afford a new house, maybe didn’t have home owner’s insurance.  But just because Beth lived on a really nice farm does not support this notion that she was some uppity, spoiled rich kid, which is what you imply when you describe her with the word “privileged.”
  • In fact, weren’t you paying attention in Still? THAT IS AN EXACT COPY OF DARYL’S HOUSE. HE SAYS SO. Those are the conditions he grew up in! That’s it. Yeah, it’s ugly. It’s nowhere near the size or aesthetic loveliness of the farm. It has gross things inside.  It has anger and sadness permeating the walls.  But it’s a house, and what makes it junkier is more to do with how his parents hurt him than the physical setting and items. And Beth also experiences sadness clinging to her farm home after her mother and brother were bitten.  Beth also experiences living with a strict father who is becoming changed by the loss of his wife.
  • No, Hershel didn’t abuse her.  No, I’m not saying that she can relate to Daryl’s abuses and ever understand that specific and horrendous level of cruelty and that pain coming from a parent.  But, she can, in a small way, understand aspects of the oppression and the drunkenness; Her father suffered with alcohol as his addiction, to the point of being punished by his wife by having him constantly sleeping on the couch.  I can’t remember for certain if that occurred while Beth was present in the house, and not before Beth’s birth and childhood, but I would think that it really did occur during her childhood, or at the very least, it came up or threatened to come up again once in a while.
  • Just because a father doesn’t hit you doesn’t mean his actions don’t harm you. Let that sink in. 
  • Even if Hershel was not drunk during Beth’s childhood, and she was protected from that, it is still something there and part of their family. It is still a part of Hershel and it always will be, and then it was confirmed as still within him when he slipped after the barn walker massacre.  That always being within him, a part of him, most definitely became something she had to deal with, learn about, know about, see manifest in his other behaviors, and it is most definitely something she would have to put in at least a little effort to work to accept and understand while growing up under his roof.
  • Speaking of under his roof– she was constantly relegated to his very strict expectations for his daughters’ conduct and their moral fiber.  I do not believe Hershel was especially unreasonable or mean– totally wasn’t. But when we met him, he was very stubborn and demanding, very much set in his ways, very authoritative, and laid down the law. And he also constantly hounded Maggie about her accepting the Atlanta group, and he explicitly disagreed with his family learning what the Atlanta group could show them.  But we know that Beth wanted to learn– she asked to be taught to fire a weapon.  She asked to be prepared and to change along with this world.  Beth was ready to move on and grow up and Hershel was still holding her back.  Beth can relate to Daryl’s inability to truly become strong and come into his real identity because of how a father holds one back on this small level, but small doesn’t mean non-existent.

Now I’ll get into the commonalities:

  • Everyone in the world has been failed by their parents in some way–whether or not a parent is an ultimately complete failure or they just make mistakes, it happens.  Feeling let down by your parents in some form happens. Everyone in the group could relate to Daryl being failed by his parents, and Beth is not exempt from that.
  • Beth and Daryl are both the youngest child/youngest sibling, and sibling positioning within a family is factually important to the basis of your development, because each “level” (first-born, second-born, so on), no matter how unique your family is, carries with it certain dynamics and patterns of character building that are generally consistent across all families.  That positioning guarantees commonalities with each other, and guarantees their ability to relate.  This is even addressed in Still when they are discussing missing Merle, Maggie, and Shawn.  Beth says she misses being bossed around and protected, and while Daryl won’t admit he misses it, he is alluding to it being an incredibly real and familiar experience to be bossed around by Merle.  He tells stories of getting into things just because Merle said so.  He summarizes his entire identity as “Merle’s little brother” just as Beth no doubt summarized her identity (particularly in school, I would imagine) as “Maggie’s little sister” and “Shawn’s little sister.”
  • They have both been incredibly and consistently underestimated, even by each other.
  • They have both been made to feel useless and like they can’t contribute to worthwhile pursuits.
  • They’ve both been told they need to grow up and be stronger. They are both naïve in similar (as well as dissimilar) ways.
  • They’ve both done a ton of growing up.  They have both become not only physically strong and capable of surviving, but they are each consistently asserted as two of the characters that most need to have emotional strength, too.  That there is too much to their identity that’s not about the physicality and the bare-minimum requirements to stay alive– that they are too socially and emotionally-oriented for breathing to be enough; they are too deep thinking for “survival of the fittest” and “kill or be killed.”  They’ve both grown into characters that need to keep their humanity while also reconciling what you have to do in this world to keep yourself and your loved ones safe, and doing that through upholding a moral code that everyone else largely tries to expel from their being.
  • They both want to see beauty in the world and to protect that beauty.  Daryl has an appreciation of beauty that Beth nurtures because it practically defines who she is. Beth teaches Daryl to understand that beauty doesn’t have to look traditionally beautiful to be worthwhile– like him, like his life. That’s why he looks at her, so stunned, feeling so many feelings, when she asks him to consider the dressed corpses in the funeral home as beautiful. (In my opinion, this is probably the number one reason Norman Reedus, who is a studio artist, would ship Bethyl.  Because he knows how important it is for people to appreciate beauty– beauty in all its forms, in artistic and conceptual matters, beauty in meaning and in perseverance and in its “not beauty,” not just a regurgitated, easy sense of beauty based on aesthetically socialized understandings.)  Beth thought something that gruesome was beautiful? He wasn’t thinking, “No, I think you’re beautiful.” He was thinking, “Maybe she could think I’m beautiful, too.” (oh god I’m giving myself intense feelings alsjdfklasfd)
  • They are both nurturers. They are both providers.  I’m working on another examination of them (when am I not examining Bethyl, let’s be real) from the aspect of femininity vs. masculinity in their identity expressions, and part of that helped me come to this beautiful understanding of how they are both innately highly oriented toward supporting and caring for other people.  We learn throughout the ZA that you need people to survive, so yes, everyone in our Team Family becomes likely to help each other out.  But Daryl and Beth take it on (as well as Rick, but Rick bucks up against it for a while) as their birthright and primary responsibility to take care of others, particularly in the area of encouraging others to not give up so easily and giving them hope and asserting that they’re going to be good.  And that’s even more fascinating when juxtaposed with the fact that they are the youngest siblings, yet they’re constantly comforting, providing for, teaching, and being voices of accountability to others.
  • They have both served as moral consciences and sources of encouragement for other characters.  Beth for Maggie, Hershel, Carl, Michonne, Rick, and then most profoundly, Daryl.  And then Daryl for Rick, Bob, Merle, Carol, Michonne and then most profoundly consumedbyangst!Carol, and most profoundly with Beth.
  • They have both suffered abuse (Beth moreso post-ZA) and experienced PTSD-causing trauma. (The fact that Beth has experienced abuse and trauma post-ZA and Daryl has experienced a majority of it pre-ZA does not make his trauma more valid.  You can’t compare and qualify trauma on a spectrum of validity. Fucking don’t do that.)
  • They’re both sweet souls that know how to make meaningful gestures toward others. Ex. Daryl giving Carol the cherokee rose and the hope tied into that, and Beth getting Maggie and Michonne to hold Judith after they were both internalizing guilt and shame. Another ex. Daryl putting flowers on the grave marked “father" for Beth’s sake.
  • They both mother others in practical actions and verbal affirmation.  Ex. Daryl giving Rick the bandana to wipe the blood from his face not just for Rick’s sake, but for Carl’s and him mothering Carol even though she resists admitting she is injured in Consumed.  Beth dropping soothing wisdom all over the place for so many characters to grasp onto, including Maggie, Michonne, and Carl, and Daryl, and then her sweet empathy for patients in the hospital, like Joan.
  • They are surrogate parents to Rick’s children.  They are the most consistently asserted as the main surrogate parents throughout season 3 and part of 4, until Michonne comes into play, and Michonne actually takes up the void their separation from the group leaves behind– so if they hadn’t been separated from Judith and Carl, I’d argue that they’d still be emphasized as the surrogate parents, though perhaps a bit less, again, because of Michonne’s introduction and her bonding with Rick and Carl, but also because I believe Beth would start taking on more tasks such as hunting, runs, etc.
  • They are both physically affectionate yet understand boundaries and the contextual cues needed to indicate when it’s ok to invade another’s personal space.  Both of them can overstep these boundaries just as anyone else can, especially when angered, but on the whole, they are generally very intuitive and deliberate and respectful in regards to physical touch, specifically as using physical touch as a form of comfort.  Ex. There were many times Beth and Daryl could have put a hand on Michonne’s shoulder to comfort her in the scenes they were speaking to Michonne, but they did not because they read Michonne/their relationship with Michonne. But they also know when to give small physical affection to others, like Rick or Carol.  This is an important similarity between them and I’ve seen haters say that both Beth and Daryl are out of line in their physical actions toward one another, and they ultimately are not. There was man-handling that I disapprove of, and shoving, and yes, generally a small glimpse into unhealthiness, but it is completely unraveled when they have their breakthrough hug, and the physical affection between them consistently affirms that they are not that argument and they are capable of better, and that they feel differently and more positively about touches. I just really think you’re blind and we’re watching completely different shows if you think their physical touches can be summarized as inappropriate, and you’re very narrow-minded if you’ll use physical boundaries as a way to bat down Bethyl as healthy when you’ll use small moments in Still as evidence, but you completely disregard every. single. time. they touched affectionately and positively in Alone.
  • They are both models of hope and strength.
  • They are both looked up to by children.  bundyshoes brilliantly pointed out to me that Mika wears braids like Beth’s.  And we see Patrick shake Daryl’s hand, and we’ve watched Carl’s wardrobe grow to be similar to Daryl’s (his style’s like a hybrid of Rick and Daryl, it’s so precious).
  • They are both naturally inclined to care about the children and prioritize their well-being, and to offer comfort to them when they are having a hard time. Beth and Daryl are two of the characters that consistently support Carl and are there for him during very, very difficult struggles. They don’t emphasize Hershel, Maggie, Glenn, or Carol consistently being there for Carl. No, they emphasize Beth and Daryl. 
  • They both like dry humor/little playful barbs directed to loved ones as jokes. The one that I’m thinking of now is Beth saying, "Yeah. Some people can be real jerks when they drink.” And Daryl’s, “There ain’t no juke box, so…[I guess I’ll subject myself to your singin’ is the subtextual message there]”
  • They are both incredibly headstrong, resilient, persistent, and can access righteous indignation and flare up in defense of themselves/their loved ones.
  • They are both heroes.
  • They both jump at the chance to help others. They both even jumped together to go save Maggie and Glenn. They both jump at the chance to help people who are/were strangers to them. Ex. Daryl helps the hispanic family at Yellow Jacket Creek. Beth helps Noah escape and does her best to help others there, like offering Joan emotional comfort.
  • They both care about not leaving others behind even if there’s only a tiny chance they’re alive.  Daryl loses sight of this hope and this resolute strength of his character after the fall of the prison, and Beth has to remind him that’s not who they are. They are both people who will go to the ends of the earth to search for loved ones even if everyone else is whispering to give up.

And of course the two most important things in common:

  • Hair porn.
  • Arm porn.
  • </facetious joke>
  • <the joke was that these are the most important similarities>

(There’s probably more. Feel free to piggyback this meta and add on more comparisons my fellow Beth fans and Bethyl family members!)