worthy of love.

as loved by mercy.

[travismacintosh]

mun info: mercy , 26 , cst , she/her

independent, private, and selective travis of amc’s soulmates. both canon and canon divergent. with multiple alternate universe options. 18+ only. mature content **.         carrd.

** TW / CW : BLOG CONTAINS TOPICS SUCH AS SUICIDE, DRUG/ALCOHOL USE, SELF - HARM, RELIGIOUS TOPICS, CULTS, ILLNESS, DEATH, CAR CRASHES, SEXUAL CONTENT, HEAVY MENTAL ILLNESS DEPICTIONS. everything will be tagged ‘trigger //’.

[sadmexi]

[rabipie-deactivated]

[littlemusings]

[photo credit]

[sugarsresources]

[afterglowinspo]

©

[wildeinsp]

[jcylenz]

[uninspire]

©

[travismacintosh]

@heatherwatson​ asked: “make me.” :)))

They were alone in the house. Sarah was at Jenny’s parents’ house and Billy was spending the night at his friend’s. It was just him and Heather. And right now she was playing Everyday. Travis hadn’t known the song until Heather, hadn’t even known who this Amanda Grande was. Regardless she was listening to her playlist as she moved around the house, cleaning this or that in a pair of yoga pants and sports bra. It was a sight to say the least and Travis couldn’t stop himself from staring at her whenever she entered the same room as him. He was starting to feel the pull of how badly he wanted her-- the quiet reminder in the back of his head that he hadn’t properly kissed her in a few days. There were pecks here or there, but nothing solid that led into anything. They’d been too busy with parent/teacher conferences and listening to Billy debate if he wanted to join the football team. There’d even been a night where he and Billy got to go into the backyard and toss a football around. It was the first time since his son was home that they bonded one on one that wasn’t a conversation that they both pulled teeth for.

In turn to them spending time together, Heather has spending time with Sarah in the kitchen teaching her how to bake. Things were starting to feel normal, starting to feel like they were finally becoming the family he’d been missing for so long. He had her to thank for a lot of that. She made the house feel like a home. She was a good addition to the family and that’s why he had asked her to marry him on top of the other reasons plaguing them that night. It’d been a week since he’d asked and they hadn’t had the chance to really just melt into one another afterwards. This was the first night they were getting together without the kids a room over or watching TV. Maybe that’s why he was watching her as much as he was rather than being a helpful asset in all her cleaning. He was too distracted by the moving and the small moments of dancing to the music-- watching as she bopped and popped her form with the music. 

She was distracting. He didn’t think she was aware she was being that since she’d been the one who offered up the idea of cleaning the house. But yet here they were in the kitchen and she was dancing around counters as she wiped them down, Travis attempting to sweep a few feet away from her. Attempting was the only word that could be used because at the moment his blues were locked onto her ass, watching as it swung to the beat of the music. He was gripping hard at the plastic handle of the broom, body blossoming with warmth. It’s what had him speaking, grumbling a little as he did so, “Could you put more swing into your cleanin’ arm rather than your ass?” 

Her response was quick and in tune to the song, make me.

The broom fell from his hands and he stepped over it as it clattered to the ground, walking towards her with blues still on her swinging ass. He came to a stop behind her, close enough for her to brush the front of his jeans every so often. His lips parted and he let out a small breath, head tilting and hand lifting to run up her back then down it once he hit the sports bra. HIs other hand came up to catch her hip and he was quick to slam her ass back against his groin. He exhaled a hot breath, body reacting immediately to it. His cock hardened and he licked over his lips, speaking low, “You know what happens to pretty redheads that talk back?” His hand slid up to the ponytail she had her hair fashioned in, gently curling the length of her hair around his hand so he could tip her head back. He leaned down, body layering to hers as his mouth whispered into her ear, “They become a plaything, hm? A little toy that I can walk my fingers all over.”

The hand on her hip moved to her front, pressing at the waistband of her yoga pants until they were slipping inside and past the lacey undergarment she wore. His middle finger found her clit, index and ring pressed against her-- three fingers beginning to rub along her sensitive skin. She was warm... wet. He was forgetting about anything else, forgetting entirely about the fact they were cleaning. All he wanted to do was continue playing with her so that the sounds she was starting to make wouldn’t end. Her head lowered to the counter but he used his hold on her hair to pull it back. He used that hold to lean forward and kiss her neck, peppering it in heated kisses. She was wiggling against him, bumping and twitching with need. 

But he didn’t let up. He didn’t stop until she was crying out in high pitched whine, coming undone against his chest. He pulled his hand away and released his hold on her hair so to give him the ability to grab at her pants and panties. He tugged at them, pulling them down just enough to reveal herself to him. He was quick to swipe fingers along her sex, slipping two with simple ease into her. He groaned at the feeling, body ready to feel it around his cock. He drew his fingers away and was quick to undo his belt and pants, hand pulling his dick free and pushing his pants down slightly to keep them out of the way. He didn’t waste anytime after that lining his cock up with her cunt. Within seconds he was pushing into her and she was falling against the counter with a long sigh. His hands found her hips and he held on with a tight grip, holding her in place as he sank deeper.

“I want you to moan loud enough that our neighbors know we’re spending forever together,” he thrust the last few inches into her, grunting low and then drawing his hips back before pushing in again. He found a rhythm, fucking her rather than making love. He wanted this to be the tension he didn’t get to break properly after getting engaged. He wanted this to be more than just a teasing fuck where he played the wanton dominant. He also wanted to make sure she knew just how much he didn’t care about what anyone else thought. She was his soulmate. No test would tell him otherwise.

SMACK. His hand met her ass on a drawback and he gave it a squeeze on the press back in. He grabbed at her hips again, locking her into place as he rocked into her. He focused on that then, fucking into her over and over until she was crying out again-- shouting his name while dragging nails over the counter. He drew out of her and quickly spun her around, reaching down to pull on of her legs from the garments she wore. He wrapped it around his waist then, dipping in and pressing his cock back into her. He ducked in to kiss her neck, hand slipping to her ass and other on her hip to hold her as he rolled. She was whining, tugging at his hair-- moaning with bliss and louder than she had been.  His eyes shot towards the screen of the patio door. When had she switched to that? He snorted a breath of amusement, but shut his eyes as he focused on them and not the idea of someone actually hearing them. Not that he cared. Heather was it. She was everything. If someone happened to know they had a damn good sex life? So fucking be it.

It wasn’t long before she was scratching her nails against his back and rocking her head back to moan as loud as she could-- breathing raspy when Travis released his own pleasure into her. He was panting a breath when he finished, head hanging to fall against her shoulder. She cradled the back of his head with a hand and he hid in her neck, eyes shut and breathing hard. He’d needed that. Needed it bad. But regardless of how rough it was, he placed a gentle kiss to her neck... whispering in the closeness, “I love you.”

They stayed embracing for a few moments before stepping back to fix themselves, Heather running off to the bathroom to do so. He watched her practically float away, a smile on his lips. He went back to the broom, picking it up off the floor then resuming with the pile he had been creating. When she returned she gave him a smile before returning to the counter she had been cleaning. The moment she started to make circles with her arm, her hips started to sway-- moving to the music again.

Christ.

[travismacintosh]

it’s me writing @heatherwatson a fucking drabble because I only know novels on this blog.

[ewangifs]

[leneemusing]

nsfw prompts that don’t sound like a bad porno

i’m always tired of seeing the cringiest sentence starters for smut so i’m back at it again kids. feel free to adjust sentences or specify who does the action. 

ACTIONS: 1. for one muse to give the other oral 2. to skinny dip with my muse 3. to shower with my muse 4. to take a hot bath with my muse 5. for sex in public 6. for sex in the car 7. to catch my muse naked 8. to undress my muse 9. for sparring to turn into sex 10. for an argument to turn into sex 11. for make up sex 12. for friends with benefits sex 13. to tie up my muse 14. to blindfold my muse 16. to make one muse watch the other masturbate 17. for a threesome (specify muses) 18. for one muse to wake the other by fingering them/giving a handjob 19. for one muse to deny the other orgasm 20. for angry sex  21. for break up sex 22. for sex after a near death experience  23. for after battle sex 24. for sex to get revenge on an ex 25. for one muse to give the other a lap dance or strip tease  26. to make my muse whimper 27. for one muse to take the other from behind 28. for sex against the wall 29. for sex on a table/counter/desk 30. for sex in a pool/hot tub 31. for one muse to choke the other 32. for rough sex  33. for our muses to try a new position 34. for our muses to try a new kink together 35. for one muse to use a toy on the other 36. for one muse to sit on the other’s face

WORDS:  “touch me.” “kiss me here.” “you have to be quiet if you want to cum.” “say my name.”  “oh fuck-” “i need you so bad.” “i’m so wet right now.”  “i want you to touch yourself for me.”  “let me hear you, baby.”  “come for me.” “i want to hear you cum.” “harder.” “i need to feel you.” “i want you.” “you’re so hot.” “can i come yet?” “please, baby—” “i’m so close.” “i told you to be quiet.” “i told you to stay still.” “are you gonna be good for me?” “i promise i’ll be good.” “i’m not done with you yet.” “i’ve been waiting all day…” “you’re all i want.” “just kiss me, i can’t take this anymore.” “just shut up and fuck me.”  “i’m gonna fuck you until you beg me to stop.”  “say please.” “i could’t stop thinking about you all day.” “your fingers feel so good.” “your mouth feels so good.” “i want your fingers inside me.” “i want it to hurt.” “more—” “i want you to forget everything and everyone else but me.” “make me forget.” “i just want to feel something.”  “make me.” “be quiet.”  “they’re gonna catch us—” “yes— right there.” “that feels so good.” “does that feel good?” 

[queenkatmcnamara]

Katherine McNamara - John Russo photoshoot for Gio Journal August 2020

[katmcnamaradaily]

Katherine McNamara out and about in LA

[travismacintosh]

@lottiemay​ asked: ‘ Leave a sign on the door that says "Do not disturb" ‘

It was supposed to be a fun weekend getaway with her and her friends, but it felt more like a frat party than anything else. He blamed Ryan, Kevin, and Lottie for that one. Darla was close in following that. He had the least issues with Jessica-- she was easy talk to and often on the same level as Travis. Not that he was having issues with Heather, no. He just meant out of the others who were there. They were all a lively bunch when they started drinking and truth be told that’s where the fun was wearing on him. He couldn’t keep up with the amount of drinking as he continued his sobriety-- AA band around his wrist. He (and sometimes Jessica) were the only sober ones present at times, but even then she’d eat an edible and it’d leave Travis just brushing through Heather’s hair as she sat on his lap... dissociating from everything.

Honestly, that’s probably what had Heather cornering him when they came out of the bathroom in their room-- asking him several different ways what was bothering him. When he gave her some kind of actual answer about it being the situation and nothing she was directly doing she allowed him to pass so he could dress. But before he could finish buttoning his pants she was shoving him against the dresser and dropping to her knees. He had been quick to tell her not to, that it wasn’t necessary but she ignored him and advanced with a warm mouth. And fuck did it feel good. It was relieving layers of stress with each passing second and he was sure it would’ve pulled them all away if it weren’t for the bedroom door bursting open-- Lottie entering with words readily spilling from her lips.

She stopped dead at the sight of them and they were quick to part, Heather grabbing the duvet off the bed to cover herself and turn away, eyes a little watery from what she’d been doing; and Travis fixing himself and doing up his pants with a clear of his throat. Lottie opened her mouth but he was quick to move towards her, gently grabbing her by the arm and pulling her out of the room. Once outside it he shut the door and quickly grumbled something about knocking, but she was almost too quick on the draw.

leave a sign on the door that says "Do not disturb".

“How about we don’t walk into bedrooms without knocking?” He frowned, body tense with frustration and annoyance-- not to mention he’d been interrupted and was trying to ignore that, “Is some damn privacy too much to ask for?” 

[travismacintosh]

@heatherwatson​ asked: Breaking News: Social Media Influencer, Heather Watson, In Critical Condition After Car Accident (Developing)

Travis had gotten home from work when he got the notification. He didn’t use social media of any kind outside of staying in Heather’s world. The notification had come from a news coverage program that follows influencers-- Heather had recommended it to him because they were always doing articles on her. He’d read every one of them, of course. He couldn’t get the redhead out of his head on top of his own problems. Here he was without kids trying to recover-- trying to put his past mistakes behind him so he could win them back. On top of it he was in constant communication with Heather, texting her... receiving calls... pictures-- she treated him like a long lost friend and he cherished it. She was the solid piece in his life despite her never coming back to Texas after the motel. 

He often wondered if she knew how caught up on the idea of her he was. He kept it hidden, kept it pressed away beyond the moments they’d playfully tease each other over something. She had her whole life to do something wonderful and he’d been through his-- fucked it up. Couldn’t put that on someone else. Not ever. She had no idea how bad it was. No idea how caught up in shit he was with CPS. He even did a good job of hiding the fact he had kids-- avoiding any conversation that could lead to them. She didn’t need to know his woes either. She had so much going for her and if Travis tried to get closer... he’d just tear her down. 

But all of those thoughts were bottled into regret of not pushing through with it when he saw the notification on his phone. His heart sunk and his stomach flipped, living room floor shifting under his feet as he stood there staring at the notification. Slowly he swiped his thumb against it, pulling up the article to read through it. There was a picture of he vehicle-- the mangled metal and twisted parts making it look absolutely horrible. He fell into his recliner, eyes blurring slightly as he read over the words written there in sporadic bursts: STATUS CRITICAL. NOT SURE OF RECOVERY. LUCKY TO STILL BE ALIVE. Every new set of words just set him into a spiral.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat in that chair reading different article after different article-- hands shaky and heart tight in his chest. He did the only thing he could think to do. He texted her. He knew she wouldn’t respond. Knew she wouldn’t be able to, but he had to. He didn’t know anyone he could call to get a status update-- didn’t know anyone who could tell him anything. All he could do was wait with the rest of the world that knew her and that smile. 

Eventually the minutes turned to hours and the hours to days. There was no update. Everything kept saying she was still critical and that they were waiting for someone to give an update. Eventually the worry and concern drove Travis to a place he had been avoiding-- hands rotating the wheel of his truck as it moved down the road, leading him to a bar on the outskirts of town. He sat in his truck for twenty minutes before making his way inside. Eyes on his phone as he moved along the parking lot-- staring at their message thread and the heart she’d last sent a day before the accident. But his eyes were on his messages. The two he’d sent. A ‘you’re in my thoughts, please be okay’ and another that admitted he had more to say to her than he had the last few months and that if she recovered: he’d tell her.

He was staring at those messages as if he knew getting a response would stop him from entering the bar, but when he reached the door and nothing came through-- he sighed and slipped inside, walking straight to the bar. He was greeted by an older bartender, the man asking what his poison was. Travis hesitated before ordering a beer, settling himself onto a stool. Moments later there was a bottle of beer in front of him and he was reaching out to grab it. A calloused hand wrapped the bottle, lifting it from the wooden bar top and towards his lips. He paused a moment in thought about doing it before bringing the lip of it to his own, tipping back and letting the amber liquid soothe the dryness in his throat.

Instantly his eyes shut and he tipped it back further, drinking at the beer as if it were the only thing able to quench his throat. When he drew it back it was halfway gone, blue eyes instantly falling to the mirror behind the bar and his tired reflection. He was quick to look away though, quick to deny himself the sight of him crippling and falling.

He was realizing far too quickly how much Heather Watson meant to him and the longer he sat there at the bar the closer he got to doing something stupid. That’s what brought on the second beer… the third… the fourth. Eventually he was stumbling out of the bar and climbing into his truck to sit behind the wheel, but he made no advancements to drive. Instead he found his phone and dialed Heather’s number, squeezing it tight in his hand as he waited for it to go to voicemail. When it did he spoke, shaky and quiet, “Hi, Heather.”

He sniffed a breath and couldn’t stop the way his words poured out, “I don’t know when you’ll hear this... or if you will, but I need to say this.” His words were low, accent thick from the alcohol buzzing through him, “You’re amazin’, darlin’. Everything about you down to the twitch of your eyebrow when you’re stuck in a thought. And honestly I don’t know if things would ever be the same for me if you didn’t recover. You... you’re the closest thing I got to a friend while I work through my shit. I know that ain’t fair to put on you, but your voice... your videos.. they get me through the worst of it and right now-- I don’t want to imagine my life without you in it somehow.” He furrowed his brow, gripping the phone tighter, “I need you to be okay.”

His voice cracked and he felt tears edging at his eyes, body tense. “Please be okay.” He whispered the words then hung up the call before shifting in his seat to lean against it. He reached down to grab at the handle for the seat, tipping it back a bit so he could shut his eyes. He wasn’t going to drive. It was bad enough he went drinking. If anyone found out? He’d be thrown back several hundred steps, but he needed this. It was all he had left.

Sleep. He sighed and let the thought consume him, let the tired pull of too much booze lull him into sleep. She was going to be okay. She had to be. She was strong, right? She could get through this. She’d pull through and Travis... he... he’d do something about his feelings. Right? He’d put on his brave face and say what he was thinking. She had a right to know. But for now it was a matter of waiting and depending on how he woke the next morning would determine if he went shopping for something stronger. He could really go for a glass of whiskey.