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#how the hell am i gonna finish this paper
maximus-gluteus · 9 months
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nothing to see here
#ok plz i wanna rant about how the new season of good omens is making me lose faith in humanity#girl tell me how ive trudged through 4 episodes of this season and i still dont know what the damn hell is going onnnnnn#every time i think we're getting somewhere with the 'story' the show slams the brakes to let me know that there're gay people on screen#does the coffee shop chick ever apologize to the record store chick bc i cant staaaand their romance.#like record store lady. girl. this isnt banter shes just straight up dissing your passion and life's work.#im scared to finish the season bc i just KNOW theyre gonna pull the whole 'i made u leave ur toxic partner now date me immediately' trope#ok so story beats aside my other gripe is how contrived the queer representation is in this show#i am a bi woman! my reaction to seeing wlw on screen should be 'yay! im happy theyre together' and not 'ugh this shit again?'#and also with az and crowley! what happened to their chemistry from the first season???#like on the one hand the whole 'bickering like an old married couple' schtick is lovely. but. theyre just faffing about most of the time!#remember the first season? when these characters had agency? and a semblance of intuition?#i am convinced that the majority of the characters in this season couldnt find their way out of a paper bag#i get theres a whole memory loss plot device thing happening. but it feels like Gabriel's cluelessness is like fucking infectious or smthn#i feel like an idiot for assuming that the characters i knew from the first season will be just as competent in this season. they arent!#i hated the whole 'continued' story in the wwii era. i feel like it was a pathetic ploy at giving mark gatiss more needless screentime#did they think people would find the nazi zombies amusing or something? why are we playing this off as a joke?#just admit you dont know what to do with the story and move onnnnnnnn#im gonna finish the season bc i feel like im owed the scene of david tennant sucking face with michael sheen.#itll be like reparations for having to slough through the rest of this nothing burger of a story jesuuuuuussss#ok rant over#good omens critical
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ques-e · 1 year
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trying to write a paper on an obscure ukrainian book originally posted in 100-word blocks of text on facebook that i didnt understand the plot of. ive been woking on it for 5 hours now. i am in agony. i only have 3 pages written.
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shotmrmiller · 2 months
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pornstar au
f!reader x simon 'ghost' riley
3.7k words (sorry)
tw: teacher-student relationship but it's just a scene for porn. explicit. horrifyingly so.
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You burst into the classroom and stride purposefully towards your professor, who is seated in his leather chair, engrossed in his work. Impatiently tapping your foot, you waited for him to finish marking essays. However, after 5 minutes, your patience with this unbearable man ran out.
"Professor."
He hums, a deep sound coming from the back of his throat yet doesn't look up from what he's doing. A real piece of work, he is. How fucking aggravating.
"Professor Riley," your voice takes an irreverent tone.
The hand that had been writing non-stop comes to a sudden pause, and he finally directs his attention to you. Meeting your gaze, his dark eyes are hooded, his lips set in a firm line. His job is to literally deal with students, yet he dares to look annoyed.
"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong 'r am I gonna have to learn how to read minds?" he states.
Taking in a calming breath, you clench the crumpled essay in your hand. "Can you explain to me why you failed me on this? I did exactly as you asked!"
He must know precisely what you're talking about because he simply turns back to the papers on his desk.
"Tha's your problem. You did exactly as I asked, with no thought behind it. Just wrote the bare minimum, if you can even call it writin'. It's copy-paste," Professor Riley sets the pen down and leans back in the chair.
"I need ya to use tha' head o' yours when in this class. Otherwise, you'll fail the rest o' your classes too."
Fucking hell.
Professor Riley shifts in his seat, seemingly done with the conversation, and finishes, "If tha's all."
Shit. Your pause is too long, and the director calls it. Fuck.
"I'm really sorry, Ghost, I didn't mean-" Your words of apology dissolve into thin air as his strong hand finds its place on your hip— giving it a gentle, but firm squeeze.
"S'all righ', love. Mistakes happen. Matter fact," his eyes drift from you to behind you to beckon someone with two fingers. "C'mere, you."
It's the set assistant, and he's brought the script with him. Ghost swiftly stops him from handing it to you, instead pushing it onto the assistant's chest. "Won't be needin' tha', thanks. Tell the director tha' we'll be ad-libin'. Now sod off."
The assistant follows his command in haste, scurrying off to follow Ghost's instructions.
"Hey," he murmurs. Your eyes meet his, feeling the intensity of it quickens your heartbeat. "Say whatever you like, just remember to follow the storyline, alright?"
Follow the storyline. In porn. The irony isn't lost on you, but you bite the side of your gummy cheek to keep from laughing. "Yes, sir."
He drops his hand from where he held you slowly, seemingly almost reluctant to let go. "Ready?" Ghost's thin lips curl into a smirk when you nod at his question. "Good girl."
Your fingers tightly grip the flimsy material of your uniform skirt at his praise, and warmth pools in your lower belly.
His good girl.
A high-pitched voice cuts through your thoughts, signaling the restart of the shooting. You exhale a long breath, unclenching your hands in the process.
Action.
"If tha' all." Ghost reaches for his pen when you frantically grab onto his Oxford sleeve.
"Wait, Professor, please! I can't," you stammer, "I cannot fail this class! My parents would kill me if I studied abroad only to flunk. The tuition—"
His tone is authoritative as he abruptly cuts off your lengthy excuse. "Enough. Nothing can change the mark I've given you."
Your ears pricked up at his wording, and the corners of your lips pulled up into a roguish smile. "No?" Ghost stills before turning to face you, countenance blank. "Nothing at all, Professor?" With a coy tilt of your head, your wide, doe-like eyes meet his as your fingertips trace an alluring path from his forearm down to his knuckles.
"I really can't convince you in any way to change that grade for me?" You lean on the edge of his wooden desk— skirt so short it doesn't even graze the surface of it— and lightly curl your hand around his pointer finger. "It can be our little secret, Professor Riley," you purr.
Ghost lifts a single brow, and settles back into his seat, arms crossed over his barrel chest as his eyes travel from your feet to your exposed cleavage, fixating on the soft skin peeking out from your uniform top.
"Please?" his hushed voice reverberates inside your skull. "I promise to be a good girl."
That catches his attention, eyes flashing to yours, the fire behind them hot— you hope it burns you.
"'Sat, right? Tha' changes things now, doesn't it?" Ghost rolls his chair back, away from his desk, and spreads his thick legs apart in invitation, arms resting on the rests— the dictionary definition of casual. "Convince me then, pet."
"Yes, sir." Sauntering to stand in between his legs, you swallow thickly— the bulge in his groin was quite frankly, intimidating. You've had large, but this was in a league of its own.
"You gonna do it from up there? I know I'm bigger than average but not tha' big." A huff escapes from your lips. A whole comedian.
Knees pressed into the cold, tile floor, you expertly undo the button of his trousers and with his help, pulled them down along with his pants— just enough for his cock to spring free.
Bloody fucking hell.
His cock is monstrous. It rested against his belly, heavy and thick. The pink tip slightly peeking from under his foreskin. There was a groomed thatch of coarse hair at the base, and his balls were also heavy— one hanging lower than the other.
Ghost leans forward and cradles the underside of your jaw with one large hand, fingers gently caressing the delicate skin of your cheek, while the other pumps his rigid cock in anticipation. "Not scared, are ya?" His grin was wicked. "I promise it don't bite."
Grabbing his wrist, you maneuver his hand so that his thumb now rests on your soft lips. "Might not, but I do, Professor." And catch the tip of his finger between your blunt teeth, the subtle sting of it making him hiss.
"Perfect, pretty girl," he says, almost inaudible. His words of praise are for you alone— not for the scene, nor the camera. You peer up at him through your lashes, mewling softly at the expression on his face.
His brow was set, hooded eyes sultry, a rosy hue across his cheeks and nose, and lips parted as he panted quietly.
Delicious.
Ghost then pushes his thumb further into your slick mouth and hooks it behind your bottom teeth, delicately pulling you closer to him as he tips his head down— taking his thumb out with a pop. His warm breath fans across your face as he moves closer until his lips connect with yours. He slid his tongue into your mouth, tasting of frosty mint and his own unique taste.
Your hands come up, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs when he grasps your wrist and moves it to the focal point of his desire— his breath hitching when you give his cock a firm squeeze. Ghost bites your bottom lip before breaking away, a guttural noise escaping him when you begin to stroke him. "Tighten your hand around—" he breaks off, moaning against your kiss-swollen lips when you comply.
He threads his fingers through your hair that sits at the base of your skull, curling them into a fist and tugging back— craning your neck, hair pulled taut.
"So obedient. Jus' f'me, love?" you hum cheekily, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.
"Would you hold it against me if I said no?" he chuckles under his breath, the grip on your hair tightening marginally.
"I'd say tha' you're lyin'." He sucks in a breath when you press down lightly onto his slit with your thumb. "Cheeky."
He loosens the hold he has on you, feeling your scalp prickle with tender relief, and relaxes back into the chair. "All yours, sweetheart."
That light wasn't getting any greener, so with a grunt, you shifted your weight, ignoring your aching knees, and wrapped your lips around his cock.
Barely.
The salty bite of his arousal and musk spread on your tongue as you took him in deep, stilling once he hit the back of your throat.
"Fuck, look at me."
Slightly tipping your head back, you do as he says, your throat closing around him as he slips in even further.
"Fuckfuckfuck," a hiss, "such a hot little mouth, just swallowin' me righ' up." Your lungs burn with the lack of oxygen, forcing you to pull back to gasp for air. Ghost squeezes himself at the base and taps your cheek with his saliva-coated length.
"A dirty slag like you, jus' takin' me like a professional. Tha' what you are? A professional cock sucker, love?" he taunts. Your pussy clenches when he calls you a slag, pressing your thighs together in the hope of some friction; Something to alleviate the throbbing ache in between your legs.
Ghost with eyes as keen as ever, notices. Damn.
"Oh? Little harlot likes to get degraded, does she? Reminded of her place? How I'd love to teach you exactly where you belong, but tha' wouldn't be you convincin' me to change your bad grade, now would it?"
His cock taps on your swollen lips. "Another time, hm? Now open. Make me see reason."
Ghost's wish is your command. With enthusiasm, you take him in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head, place a hand right under your lips, and twist with every push and pull.
It's sloppy, spit covering your hand, dripping down to his balls. Your jaw aches, a burning pressure a little under your ear, but what gives you the strength to continue is the loud moans coming from Ghost. He holds nothing back, his hand engulfing the crown of your head while he gently pushes you down. A performer down to his very bones.
You were about to pause the recording, the pain in your mandible and knees almost becoming too much when he suddenly pulled you off of him.
"Wha—?" Ghost seizes you by the upper arms, forcibly bringing you to your feet, disregarding your pained whimper, and places you on the sturdy desk.
He's curling his fingers into the waistband of your frilly knickers, slipping them down your legs and pocketing them. There's a quiet popping sound when he bends his knees, going eye level with your bare cunt.
In a hushed tone, you say, "This isn't part of the scene." Ghost drags his eyes from your glistening slit to your face, gaze suffocating, smothering the very air in your lungs.
"Just a taste, love." He curls one hand under your thigh, lifting it to perch it on the edge of the desk, the other he throws over his strong shoulder. The only sound in the room is your soft moans as he expertly slides his warm tongue through your slick folds, sending waves of pleasure through your body.
By god does he eat pussy like it's his job. Peering down at him, you can't stop the sounds that spill from your mouth when his tongue visibly splits your pussy lips open, flicking at your clit, lapping up your arousal like it is honey. You take hold of his short hair, tugging at the strands as each swirl of his talented tongue pushes you closer to your peak.
His eyes cut to yours when he presses a thick finger into you, drinking in your desperate expression as you keen, begging for more, blabbering about it being so good, yet not enough, please god more.
Ghost curls his finger, only taking a second to find your sweet spot, and pushes— bursts of light flashing in your peripheral vision. You begin to rock your hips unconsciously, chasing your ecstasy, and Ghost simply flattens his tongue, letting you grind against it.
You teeter on the edge of bliss, a tightening in your stomach, right under where his finger is. Shaky exhales leave you, the leg that's on the desk visibly trembling from the tension that threatens to snap you in half.
He presses a kiss to your sodden pussy, and croons, "Gonna come f'me?" You jerkily nod.
"Yes fuck yes, I'm gonna come for you, just for you, Professor Riley pleaseee—" your blathering turns into a high-pitched squeal as he lightly sucks on your pearl, hips lifting off the desk as a blinding orgasm crashes into you, pleasure bursting through your very core, cunt pulsating with every wave of ecstasy around Ghost's finger.
He wastes no time in rising to his feet and slotting his mouth over yours, the taste of your slick strong, potent on his tongue. Ghost breaks away, his breath smelling of your desire. "Exquisite, like ambrosia. Addicting."
Ghost's hand cups your sensitive quim and whispers, "Think you can take me? Tha' orgasm took a lot outta ya."
Silly question. "I'm a big girl, Ghost. I can take it."
He licks the front of his teeth and glances down to where his hand rests. "Course you can, love. Turn around f'me."
Your movements are sluggish as you turn over onto your stomach, rising to the tip of your toes as you present yourself to him.
Ghost grabs the sides of your waist, and flips your skirt up, tucking the edge into the waistband of it. His hands palm your cheeks, thumbs digging into the meat of your ass to spread you open, completely exposed to him.
"Fuck me if tha' isn't the prettiest sight I've ever had the pleasure of seein'." He doesn't acknowledge your scoff as he spreads your hands out, placing them flat on the table— enveloping your hand with his own, intertwining his fingers with yours.
His leans over your semi-prone body, cock gently prodding at your entrance, gliding easily through your folds. "Ready?"
Arching your back, his tip slips inside, just barely. That's your answer.
You can hear the smarmy grin that spreads on his face, and wanted to snark back but you're rendered mute when he pushes in. Your eyes cross at the stretch of his cock, a feeling so sublime you know that no one will ever be able to duplicate. Your fingers tighten around his as you mewl when he bottoms out, hips flush against your arse.
Ghost sucks in a breath through his teeth when you shift your weight, and whatever you did has him sliding in deeper— turning his hiss into a guttural groan. "Fuck, you have no fuckin' idea how good you feel."
Probably not, but you have every idea how good he feels.
"You okay, love? Took me so well like you were made jus' f'me. So warm and soft, tight like a vice around my cock. Pretty pussy split wide open, stuffed full of me." He speaks unfettered filth to you, dripping over your ears like molasses, thick and syrupy. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders— dizzy, drunk on his scent, his cock that's got you tearing at the seams.
Then he begins to move, pulling out until an inch remains inside, and pushing in until he's nudging the plug of your womb, feeling a deep pinch under your navel.
This is what it's like to get fucked by Ghost. The one everyone covets after, hoping he drags down the very heavens with his bare hands and lays it at their feet. And here he is, fucking you. A newbie, a fresh face no one knows yet, a name that'll probably never grace the front page.
You doubt his motives are altruistic, but goddamn does it not matter; Not with the way he's carving a space inside of you that only he will ever fit in, or the way he's curling his free hand around your neck, thumb pressed right over your racing pulse.
He lowers himself until his strong chest is to your back, his teeth nipping the tip of your ear. "The moment I saw you gettin' fucked by Johnny, I knew I had t'have ya." Your walls clamp down on him involuntarily, wrenching a pained noise from him. "Fuckin' hell, I knew this pussy would be magical."
Ghost's lips skim over the shell of your ear before pressing a chaste kiss on it. "Lemme hear how good I make ya feel, pet. Don't hold back on me now." He grinds into your arse, going in so deep that it feels like he's trying to push past the entrance of your womb. "S'alrigh'. I'll jus' have t'pull 'em outta ya."
He releases you, placing both hands flat on the desk, on either side of your shoulders. "Take em for myself, make 'em mine." Straightening all the way, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your waist.
"What a view. Perfection." He rolls his hips, rhythm languid, loud squelching noises coming from where he fills you. "Drippin' cream all over my cock, pet. Can't tell me this isn't 'cause of me."
How the fuck can he still talk? How is he coherent? Why isn't his brain turned into mush like yours is?
"Fuckin' ya speechless, am I? Oh, sweetheart, but I'm barely gettin' started." Ghost slowly pulls out, and curls his hand around your shoulder, nudging you to turn over. "On your back, now."
You lazily flip over, hair sticking to your sweat-slick skin, and he hooks his arms underneath your legs and drags you to the edge until your arse hangs from it. "I wanna see that pretty face when you come." He wastes no time in sheathing himself back inside your swollen channel, walls fluttering at the invasion.
Ghost hooks one leg over his shoulder to lean forward, pinning you to the desk with his upper body, and maneuvers your other to wrap around his wide waist. "That cock drunk look on your face makes my balls tighten, what a fuckin' expression you've got, christ," he growls. "Knowin' I put it there makes it all the better."
He gives you a chaste kiss on the lips and gives you a smile that is all teeth. "Now let's make you sing."
Grunting, he straightens. plants his feet firmly, stance wide, and begins to fuck you. The videos of the famed Ghost you saw are nothing, nothing, in comparison to real life. His full weight is behind every spine-jarring thrust, it makes your teeth clack, it rattles your brain inside your skull. He does it so perfectly because at no point do you feel any discomfort, not even a twinge. It's all a pleasure that blazes, an all-encompassing heat that threatens to swallow you whole, burn you from the inside out.
His cock punches the breath out of your lungs, wails clawing out of your throat, and it's so good, so fucking good— god, maybe he is god, you don't know, everything is so blurry, hazy—
All senses focus on the sudden touch between your legs, an expert thumb drawing tight circles on your slippery clit and there's no way you're going to survive this—
"There she is, the girl I saw in the video. Tha's an expression I see in myfuckin' sleep. Give me what's mine, pet. Let me feel you, cream all over my cock."
He's relentless in his pursuit of your climax, a wave of pleasure so intense, it just might drag you out to sea, drowning you.
Ghost, the fucking god of sex, stops his ministrations to spit on your pussy. Spit. From his full height, a glob of warm saliva drops to your mons, and he smears it with his fingers over your pussy lips before rubbing your clit. His thrusts slow in pace, turning into a firm snap of his hips, making sure you feel every ridge of his cock, and in less than a minute, your spine arches off the desk.
Your mouth opens into a silent scream, lids snapping shut as you break underneath him, warmth gushing from where he's continuously sinking into you, a steady, slow rhythm that never ends.
"Came all over me, didn't ya? Bet you didn't know you could even do tha'."
You didn't.
"Jus' for tha', I'm gonna give you somethin' in return, yeah? A little reward for bein' so good," he praises.
Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, swollen and thick, and unconsciousness creeps at the very edges of your mind.
All you can do is lie there and take it, his sloppy thrusts, his harsh panting until he moans, "'m close, so fuckin' close," and with whatever remnants of strength you have left, you use to squeeze him tightly— unwilling to let go because his come is yours now, you've earned it.
"Come in me, Ghost," you whimper.
That does it. He slams his hands on either side of your head and borderline roars out his release, cock twitching inside of your used cunt, filling you with his spend.
Cut.
Ghost's breathing is labored, a harsh pant that fans over your overheated skin, damp with sweat.
His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezed shut, gulping in air and shivering in the aftershock of his climax.
To be fucked by Ghost is to see the Garden of Eden behind your eyelids.
Now you understand. You understand why he has no equal. He is unparalleled.
Jesus Christ, you're fucked. So, so fucked.
He slowly opens his eyes and peers down at you with a wolfish grin.
"Perfection."
--
A week later, your video with Ghost is the most viewed on the entire website. Not one other video even scratches the bottom of where your video sits.
Ghost truly is the king.
Curiously enough, your friend is the one who lets you know that Mr. life-altering cock himself never kisses during work. Not once in any video of his has he ever kissed, apart from a short pressing of lips to skin.
Your heart traitorously flutters at the thought of it meaning something more. Catching feelings when you get fucked for a living is not the move. But there's no stopping it from misbehaving, especially when you receive another script, to make another video with Ghost.
Another. one.
Fuck. Fuck!!
You cannot wait.
@mishaglass
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sundrop-writes · 2 months
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Officially announcing my new series: Careful.
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A limited multi-chapter series with Spencer Reid and Fem Reader, featuring angst, smut, and the trope of exes to lovers where Spencer finds out that he is a father four years after you have given birth to his child.
'When you and Spencer broke up, he tried to forget about you. He pushed all of those feelings for you down - until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being hunted by a man who kills single mothers.'
The series will be approximately 40k long in total (spread across six chapters) and will be posted every Friday, starting on March 8th, 2024, and continuing until ending on April 12th, 2024.
THE FIRST CHAPTER IS NOW POSTED!!!
(I am making a posting schedule, and I am gonna try really, really hard to stick to it this time guys.)
The series is already finished in my drafts - it just needs to be edited before posting. However, comments and encouragement are highly appreciated and welcomed throughout this process. The fic will not have a taglist (taglists are not something I do) - if you enjoy the concept or the preview below and you want to know when future chapters are coming out, then you will simply have to follow me here and turn on notifications for this blog, or you can find me on AO3 and subscribe to me there to get emails when this series and it's future chapters are posted.
Below is a short preview of the fic - so if you want to get a better sense of what the fic is about, click through and read it, and hopefully, you will enjoy.
Preview Word Count: 1,800
Warnings: typical Criminal Minds episode warnings; mentions of murder/killing; the reader character is being targeted by a killer and doesn't know it yet; the reader has a young child (a four year old son); the reader is a cis woman who uses she/her pronouns and a has a vagina; emotional angst between Spencer and the reader; the reader and Spencer had a romantic relationship around season 1/season 2 and this is meant to take place around season 6(ish) but you can picture any later version of Spencer you want; the reason that the reader and Spencer broke up is purposefully vague here but it will be fully revealed in the full story; the reader purposefully kept the pregnancy/Spencer's child away from him; Spencer didn't know he had a child out there in the world; there is some smut in this - unprotected penetration (a flashback to how the baby got here); possibly something that could be labelled as a breeding kink; making love/intense passionate sex; I believe that's in for this short part.
...
The team found themselves buried in paper, looking through the preschool applications for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did. 
“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers. 
“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the home until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.” 
“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.” 
“Plus, most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.” 
The conversation was easily drowned out for Spencer when he saw it. 
It should have been just another page among the sea in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut that brought back a flood of memories he thought that he had locked away forever. 
It was you. 
What the hell were you doing applying for preschools? 
Spencer rushed to tear this paper out from the others in the stack in order to read it more carefully. 
You had a son. 
… 
When you answered the knock on your door, you were entirely lost for words, your mouth going numb from shock when you saw him. 
The last thing you were expecting was to find Spencer Reid on your doorstep. 
Your heart raced inside your chest, your body so overwhelmed so quickly that you couldn’t even decide on an emotion. 
Happiness. Joy. Lust. Longing. Sadness. Relief. 
Shock. 
You lingered on shock for a while as you stared at him, your eyes locked on the sight of him - wondering what the hell he was doing standing on your porch. How did he know where you lived? Why was he here? 
“Y/N,” 
He said your name in that honey-sweet way, and it brought you rocketing back to that awful night all those years ago. Your stomach dropped, and you felt like you were standing in that apartment all over again, tears in your eyes as you faced down the crashing reality that the best relationship you ever had in your life was over. 
This brought on a whole new wave of confusing emotions. 
Anger. Rage. Sadness. Bitterness. Regret. 
Like your brain was a spin-wheel, it whirled around for a few hectic moments, and then - you landed somewhere between anger and pure rage. 
And that was when you finally spoke. 
“Spencer Reid.” You hissed out his name like it was pure venom - immediately, Spencer’s features fell from looking at you with nostalgic fondness, and dropped out to fear. “What the hell are you doing here?” 
Spencer opened his mouth, seemingly to answer this question, and the rage pumped harder in your system. You found that you didn’t want to hear whatever it was that he had to say. 
You stepped through the door, easily stepping into his personal space as you came onto the porch, and you gave him a hard shove in the middle of his chest as you spoke your next words - much louder than you intended. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” 
You screeched, your emotions carrying your actions before any sense of logic or common decency could kick in. It was emotion that you had locked away four years ago - and apparently, it had been aging like wine, only becoming more potent with time. 
“You think that you can just magically show up in my life again after I specifically told you not to contact me?” You added on with a howl. “Do you think that order has a fucking expiration date on it?” 
You gave him another hard shove - perhaps expecting to prompt an answer out of him, or wanting to shove him off the porch entirely and get him out of your life once again. Which of those it was, you weren’t even sure. 
“You better have a good fucking reason for showing up here!” You screeched, your voice becoming so loud that it wore out your throat. 
“Look, Y/N, I-” He stuttered out. 
“Don’t say my name.” You hissed, cutting him off. “Don’t say my name like we’re friends.” 
You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest, and Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets, now finding himself utterly speechless. 
He definitely was not expecting this kind of reception. 
… 
You hadn’t taken the news that you were potentially being hunted by a serial killer very well. 
Although, strangely enough, that wasn’t even close to being the hot topic when JJ and Spencer got back in the car, watching you pull out of your driveway to attend to something you said was entirely urgent. 
“What the hell happened between the two of you?” JJ asked, the question finally unleashing from her lips. 
“It’s complicated.” Spencer huffed out in reply. 
Eventually - you did sit down and talk things out with Spencer, calmly. 
He had a lot of questions, and you tried your best to answer them. 
“Can I ask you one more thing?” Spencer asked when it came to the forefront of his mind. 
“Sure,” You sighed. “I think we have a few more minutes before you have to go.” 
“When did you find out that you were pregnant?” He asked. “Was it - was it before? Or after?” 
“After.” You told him. “It - it was about two weeks after. When I took one of those at home tests. And I had already made up my mind that I never wanted to see you again. So just - then and there, I decided that I was gonna raise the kid alone.” 
“So - so do you know when-?” Spencer began, and you cut him off. 
You already knew what he was going to say. 
‘Do you know when he was conceived?’ 
“No.” You rushed to say. 
But it was a lie. You knew. 
You felt like you couldn’t tell him the truth about this. If there was one thing you couldn’t afford to do right now, with Spencer Reid sitting at your kitchen table, staring at you with his big, inquisitive, glossy eyes, licking his lips, with his firm jaw set tight in contemplation - you couldn’t afford to go reminiscing with him about the night your son had been conceived. 
You had spent a lot of time during your pregnancy thinking. Doing the math. Trying to remember. 
And you knew exactly when. 
The night was so vivid in your mind. 
… 
He captured your lips in a smooth, knowing, passionate kiss - you didn’t hesitate to moan into his mouth, and Spencer echoed it right back. He had missed you so much during the day; even though he had seen you less than forty-eight hours before this, he felt decades of yearning in his heart. 
When he felt the bare head of his cock bump up against your entrance, smearing your wetness over him, he moaned even harder against your mouth. He pulled away from the kiss with a huff, moving his hand to your hip then as he asked a very important question. 
“Do you have a condom?” 
It broached the front of his mind, then, that he hadn’t brought one with him. 
“You don’t need one.” You breathed out in reply, combing your hand through his hair, raking your nails across his scalp in a way that made his hips unconsciously buck forward. 
When he felt more of that warm wetness smear across him, his cock just barely dipping into your heat - he didn’t entirely care to decipher the meaning behind your words. He simply trusted you. 
“Please, Spencer.” You begged quietly. “I need you. Just you.” 
(Later, when he was looking back on it, he would have guessed that you meant you were taking your oral birth control consistently. But looking back on it now - it was the only time within those last months of your relationship that the two of you didn’t use a condom. You were urging him on, and maybe, at the time - a baby truly was what you had in mind.) 
He wasn’t one to deny you anyway. And he certainly wasn’t going to deny himself of this. 
He reached down and used a hand around the base of his cock to help line himself up, and gently guided the length of his cock into you. 
This was always his favorite part. 
The gasp - the lilting moan you let out when his cock first slid into you, the way your thighs flexed around his hips - it was all so perfect. But it was even more perfect without the barrier of a condom in the way. 
It was perfect. It was so easy; it all came so naturally between the two of you. It was a perfect rhythm between your bodies that came from knowing each other so well, feeling so at ease with each other. 
It wasn’t just out of the visceral need to have him inside of you; it was the pure yearning to feel close to him, to have him as physically close as possible. 
With you, so tight and beautiful around him - he didn’t last. He couldn’t. 
“Y/N.” He warbled out your name, almost as a warning. 
“It’s okay.” You breathed back. “Cum for me. Come on, please.” 
Spencer couldn’t resist - not when you said ‘please’. 
The sound that came from his chest could only be described as a cry, and any fleeting thought he might have had about pulling out left his brain in a millisecond when he felt your tightness fluttering around him, his hips unconsciously fucking deep into you, his body loving the feeling of being held tightly there while your cunt milked him for all he was worth. 
He certainly didn’t miss the sweet moans you let out - the bright eyed awe you started up at him with as you felt his cum fill you up for the first time. 
… 
It was one of the last good memories you had with Spencer - one of the most perfect pictures you had of who he truly was before he came home from Georgia such a different person, and you had no clue why. 
Spencer could instantly see the lie in your body language - how closed off you became, how quickly you rushed to cut off his words. Along with the intense heat reflected in your eyes. You were thinking about that night. 
He thought he knew exactly which night you were thinking about, and he was going to call you out on it, make you admit in your own words how perfect that night was, even if the two of you were ruined now, a shadow of what you once were. 
But he was disrupted by the sound of his phone ringing.
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jyoongim · 1 month
Note
hihihihihihi!!!!! omg i LOVEEEE your writing and i was wondering if i could req alastor x reader reader is alastors s/o and like after a long stressful day of work at the hotel they get at it yk...and one of the hotel staff walk in on them..HEAVEN FORBID IT BE CHARLIE..
if you dont want to do this one or it makes you uncomfy pls ignore this! rest up,stay hydrated,eat and sleep!
I LOVE YOUR WORKK
Hehehehe any witness to these two better pretend they saw nothing! Never mix business and pleasure guys!!!!
———————————————————————
The hotel had been pretty busy all day.
You and Alastor had been running around like chickens with how busy it was.
Charlie had wanted to revamp the redemption program.
So that meant the two of you were swamped with how to make these things successful.
The two of you were in your shared office and it was quiet.
The two of you had been sparing looks every now and then at each other.
You had finished most of your paperwork and made your way over to Alastor’s desk. You looked over his shoulder to see what he was doing. His ears twitched to make him aware of your presence.
You placed your hands on his broad shoulders, already finding tension “Why don’t we take a little break hmm? Youre gonna be stiff slouched over like this” your sweet voice said as you pressed your fingertips into his shoulders.
Alastor sighed, setting the paper, sitting back and letting you work your magic. You smiled as he relaxed and moved around the chair to settle in his lap, the sound of static hummed through the room as he melted into you.
You peppered his face in kisses as you grind your clothed pussy against him. 
The stress of the day and being in close proximity with your man really had been doing a number on you.
You latched onto his lips, moaning softly as your clit caught against his hardened crotch.
You blinked when you felt the hard wood of the desk under your ass. Alastor looked at you with lidded eyes as he stood between your thighs and tapped his claws along your stockings, ripping little holes in them.
“How am I suppose to get any work done with you my dear” he asked rhetorically as he slipped his hand under your skirt and slid your damp panties to the side, claws teasing your sticky folds.
You gasped as a single digit sunk into your heat, quickly adding a second as your slick coated his hand.
He slotted his mouth against yours, tongue conquering your mouth and twirling your tongues together. 
Your body seized as he worked an orgasm out of you, making you moan into his mouth. “A-Al oh!” Your thighs trembled as your cunt spasmed on his fingers.
You panted as he pecked your lips one last time and the sound of a zipper caught your ear. Alastor leaned you back, making you upport yourself on your elbows as he spread your legs a little bit more.
Your breath hitched as Alastor’s cock pushed into you.
”O-Oh fuck!” You moaned causing Alastor to bare his teeth as he set a steady pace, drilling his cock into you.
”we gotta make it quick darlin”
————————————————————————————-
The sound of the desk rattling in tune with his thrusts gradually was getting louder as he pounded your cunt.
”s-shit shit shit ah! A-Al aah ha!” You whined, throwing your had back on the desk as you tried to squirm away as another orgasm rips through you.
”You gonna cum for me hmm?” Alastor grunted as you gushed around him. He lowered his upper body onto yours as he slammed his hips into you over and over, not caring that you were staining his desk with your cream.
”please please please fuck fuck fuck! Ah!” 
It was the moment you cummed at the slam of Alastor’s hip, all over his cock when the door to your office opened, you didn’t have enough time to sit up and push Alastor off when your eyes widened in horror as Charlie stepped through the door. 
“Hey guys I just wanted to- OH SEVEN HELLS! IM SORRY! IM SORRY! IM SO SO SORRY!” The princess slapped her hands over her eyes and scurried back out the door.
You felt like you could have disappeared. You looked at Alastor in shock when you felt his cock twitch ”A-Alastor…did you just?”
He hummed before moving his hips again.
Your eyes widened “Are you crazy! We need to I don’t know console Charlie erase her memory or die again”
The red demon ignored you as he flipped you onto your belly, legs shakingly supporting you as he sunk his cock back into you.
”Oh its Hell dearest im sure a couple of demons shaggin don’t phase her, besides I need your help going over some of the bigger details” he chuckled, kissing your shoulder.
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worldlxvlys · 2 months
Note
can u do one where the reader actually rocks Chris’ toxic girlfriends shit PLEASEEEEEE
and btw you an amazing writertrr
reader x chris who has a toxic gf (part 4)
chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: cursing, violence, mention of sex
a/n: thank youuu and i hope you like :)
previous part
if someone told me two days ago that i’d be standing in my kitchen, baking cookies with chris and his girlfriend, i would’ve looked at them like they were crazy. yet here i am, doing exactly that.
it was chris’s bright idea for the three of us to spend time together, “i want you guys to try to get along” were his exact words.
i offered to do it at my house, so i could kick layla’s ass out when i got sick of her.
so now, here we were, baking cookies together. we hadn’t even been at it for longer than five minutes before layla started to piss me off.
“what the hell type of cookie sheet is this? it looks like you got it from the dollar tree” she snickered.
the sound of her voice was like nails on a chalkboard, she was obviously making it higher on purpose.
i gave her an odd look at this, “i did. why would i pay for expensive ass cooking sheets?” i squinted my eyes at her.
she looked taken aback, probably expecting me to take her words to heart.
“for real. who cares where you got it? as long as it works” chris agreed.
when he saw the look on layla’s face, his eyes widened slightly and he cleared his throat awkwardly.
chris grabbed the bag of cookie dough, starting to hand it to me.
i went to grab it before layla, who stood on my other side, reached around me and took it.
“great, let’s get started!” she spoke, an annoyingly wide grin covering her face.
i glanced at chris, giving him a look to express my annoyance without verbalizing it.
he gave me a pleading look, silently asking me to try.
letting her open the bag, i reached for the parchment paper, lining my “cheap” cookie sheets.
i watched as she struggled to open the bag, letting out dramatic huffs and puffs.
“baby, can you open this for me? my nails-” she stopped talking when i grabbed the bag from her, ripping it open.
my nails were longer than hers, however, i opened the bag without a problem.
“it’s not the nails” i spoke to her as i separated the pre-cut dough.
“and next time, if you can’t open something, don’t take it from someone who actually can” i finished.
she let out a sigh, her lips turning into a slight pout. “whatever” she said.
once the dough was separated, chris and i started to place it on the cookie sheet.
i glanced over at her, noticing that she was just standing there.
“are you actually gonna put the cookies on the sheet, or are your nails too long to do that too?” i asked.
her face dropped at that, her brows furrowing slightly. a deep frown grew on her face and she looked like she was going to cry.
“ok, i’m not just gonna stand here and let you belittle me” she said, catching me by surprise. she seemed like i genuinely upset her.
“and, you, chris ? you just let her talk to me however she wants. i’m not some monster, i have feelings” her voice broke when she spoke, “but all you care about is her”.
i pressed my lips together when chris made no effort to deny her statement, well this is awkward.
chris and i just stood there, staring at her with wide eyes.
“whatever” she shook her head, “can you just bring me home? i’m not feeling great” she asked as she looked at chris.
i squinted my eyes at her, confused. “didn’t you drive here? how is he supposed to take you home?”
chris shot a look at me that said are you serious?
“ok, forget it. never mind” i spoke, holding my hands up.
“i was asking if he could come home with me” she spoke quietly.
“yeah, just let me go use the bathroom real fast” he spoke quickly. he turned to me, “please just leave her alone” he said before walking towards my bathroom.
as soon as he left the room, her face turned into a light smirk.
my eyebrows rose as her eyes, which still had tears in them, held an evil glint.
what the fuck?
“isn’t he so gullible? all it took was a few fake tears to get him on my side” she said, her voice now at its normal pitch.
“see, the difference between you and me? you may have him wrapped around your finger, but i know exactly how to get what i want from him” she spoke.
“well, that and the fact that you’re a manipulative, lying bitch” i said.
“yet i’m the one in a relationship with him. i just know that shit hurts” she said.
her words definitely struck a nerve, but i’d never admit it.
“i’m the one who’ll be taking him home. and once he finishes comforting me, i’ll bat my eyelashes at him. tell him how much your words hurt me, and that i need a distraction”
“before i know it, i’ll be under him. i’ll hear him moan my name because, like i said, i always get what i want. call it manipulative if you want, i have needs” she shrugged once she finished.
“he’s a good fuck, it’s a shame you w-” she started but was cut off by my fist making contact with her face.
there was a sickening crack that echoed through the kitchen, as she fell back into the chair behind her. she held onto her nose, screaming out in pain.
“stand the fuck up” i told her, as she started to actually cry.
she didn’t listen, she just sat there and continued to sob.
“i told you what would happen, bitch. i don’t know why you thought i was joking” i said as i got closer to her, making her shrink away from me.
“you don’t get to talk about chris like that. your ungrateful ass doesn’t deserve him.” i grabbed her by her ponytail, making her cry out in pain.
i pulled her to her feet in one swift motion before letting go of her. i pushed her in the direction of my door, “get the fuck out of my house or i swear to god a broken nose will be the least of your problems” i said.
instead of listening to me, she spun around quickly. she swung at me, but i moved back quickly, only receiving a scratch to the face from her nails.
i swept my foot out, making her lose balance and fall to the ground. without missing a beat, i climbed on top of her and punched her over and over again.
all i could think about was the way she talked about chris, as though he was simply a thing that she used for her own pleasure.
if she thought i was just going to sit back and allow her to treat chris that way, she was wrong.
i got in a few more punches before a pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me away from her.
“what the fuck are you doing?” chris yelled as he let go of me.
my face fell as i realized how bad the situation seemed. when he left she was crying and now here i was beating the shit out of her.
“chris, just let me explain” i said as he rushed over to her.
“explain? what is there to explain? when i left she was sobbing, and she still is. why would you do this?” he yelled.
i backed away from him at the tone he used, realizing how mad he was.
he picked her up bridal style, before walking towards the door.
when he walked past me, he mumbled something before walking out of the door.
“all i asked was for you to try.”
💟💟💟💟
yikes 😬😬
i think i’m gonna make this a series, should i ?
MASTERLIST #1.
MASTERLIST #2.
tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @heraakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @mattsnymphette @leah-loves-lilies @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock
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nhlclover · 7 months
Text
fight club | rutger mcgroarty
Tumblr media
summary: your boyfriend and his friends drunkenly create their own little fight club, in which he winds up getting hurt.
warnings: blood, mentions of fighting, mentions of drinking, slight angst, indications of nsfw content.
note: fun fact this is what my brother and his friends do for fun. they have their own walk up songs and everything.
word count: 0.9k
It was somewhere around midnight, or around when you finished page 4 of 8 of your paper, that you heard the crash and shouting from downstairs.
You needed somewhere to get your paper done, and with your roommate's boyfriend in town and the library closed at this hour, you turned to your boyfriend. He lended you his room while him and his roommates hung out downstairs.
They had been relatively quiet until a couple of minutes ago when the shouting started. You assumed they were playing video games, getting competitive as they normally do, however the crash was making you think something was wrong.
You set your laptop down, making your way out of Rutgers room and down to the living room where the boys were hanging out. As you turn the corner, you run smack into Ethan, coming out of the kitchen holding a wet rag.
“Oh, hey y/n!” He says, his voice louder and higher pitched than normal.
You are immediately suspicious, narrowing your eyes at the boy. “What’s going on? I heard a crash.” You ask.
“Nothing, just… spilled a drink is all.” Ethan says. You almost want to believe him but a sudden shout from the living room that sounds like your boyfriend makes you hesitate.
“Ow! Don’t touch it!” Rutger shouts.
You push past Ethan, going into the living room. On the coffee table are several bottles of beer, along with hockey helmets and boxing gloves. Sitting on the couch with a bright red gash on his left cheek, is your shirtless boyfriend, Dylan on one side and Frank on the other.
“What the hell is going on in here?” You ask. Ethan comes in after you, walking to Rutger to hand him the rag.
“Busted.” Mark says, standing beside the fireplace, sans shirt but wearing boxing gloves and a hockey helmet.
You look around noticing all of them shirtless, some wearing boxing gloves. “Okay what the fuck is going on?” You ask, now concerned more than anything.
“Hey babe.” Rutger smiles. He winces as his cheek muscles move. “How’s the paper coming?”
“Don’t change the subject.” You say.
“Okay, we had this really great idea that we would box but wear hockey helmets so our faces wouldn’t get fucked up.” Gavin explained. “But Roger here didn’t attach his helmet properly cause it slipped off, cutting his cheek when Mark gave him a sweet right hook.”
A look of horror appears on your face as you recognize the situation. “So you guys got drunk and decided to form your own fight club?” You ask.
There’s a beat of silence then all the boys nod, exhibiting a chorus of ‘yeah’s.
You shake your head in disbelief. “I am fully convinced none of you graduated kindergarten because what is wrong with you guys?”
They sense your disappointment, all of them hanging their heads slightly. You walk over to your boyfriend, taking the damp rag from his hand.
“C’mere.” You say, taking his hand and bringing him to the bathroom.
You re-wet the rag, dabbing it against the cut. He winces, pulling away. “Oh don’t be a baby, it's just water.” You say.
“Yeah…but it still hurts.” He mumbles.
He meets your eyes, reading the disappointed look on your face. “I’m sorry.” He says.
“Yeah, you should be!” You say, the fear that had manifested into anger spilling out. “Do you know how stupid this is?”
“It was just… a drunk idea.” Rutger shrugged.
“Exactly. What are you going to tell coach Naur when he asks where you got the cut on your cheek from? Are you gonna tell him that you got drunk and fought your teammates?” You ask.
“I didn’t plan to get my face all chopped up!” Rutger counters.
You step back, sighing. “I just… please be smarter?”
Your words seem harsh but Rutger understands what you’re saying. “I know. I'm sorry.” He says.
“I’m sorry too.” You say. “I was too snappy.”
“No it’s warranted. We were being idiots.” Rutger chuckles.
“You were being such an idiot.” You laugh, going back to cleaning his wound.
“I may be an idiot but at least I’m your idiot.”
You snort. “You really know how to talk your way out of trouble.”
“Hey, it works.” Rutger says, throwing his hands up in defense.
You clean away the rest of the blood, dabbing it dry. “You’ll need to go and get a proper bandage for it tomorrow.” You say.
“Or I don’t and I get a cool scar out of it.” Rutger says, checking out the cut in the mirror.
“No. No scar.” You shake your head.
“What? I thought scars were hot and mysterious?” Rutger asks.
You find yourself not being able to disagree with his statement, biting the inside of your cheek. You turn on the sink, cleaning the rag of your boyfriend’s blood.
“Oh I knew it.” Rutger smirks. He snakes his arms around your waist, making eye contact through the mirror.
He slowly places kisses up the nape of your neck, leaning around to place more on your jaw. You tilt your head, giving him better access.
His lips unlatch from your skin, you whimpering from the lack of contact. “How about a break from your essay?”
The pair of you exit from the bathroom, you sticking your head into the living room. “Sorry boys, the fight club is over. We’re heading to bed.” You tell them.
Rutger barely waits for you to finish your sentence before he hands your waist, yanking you back into the hall and towards the stairs. You let out a shriek as you’re pulled into his arms.
“Are you guys switching to wrestling now?” Mark shouts after you.
You guys ignore him and the rest of the boys jeering after you, stumbling your way up the stairs.
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quintinh43 · 1 month
Text
BFF's 4 Life
Set in the world of Loving You Is As Easy as ABC 123
Here are my head cannons, on before Quinn and the reader became a couple.
You and Quinn lived together for eight months before he finally found a place for himself. In that time the two of you grew very close.
Quinn was very sad to leave and debated just staying with you, but in the end he decided to go through with the move because his new place was closer to Rogers arena.
He did try to convince you to move in with him, but you didn't because your apartment was closer to the university and work.
Quinn would come into the coffee shop that you worked at every time you were working. And every time, without fail, you would present him with some obscene concoction of sugar and caffine that no one had ever heard of.
"I swear to god, i'm gonna get diabetes because of you." Yet without fail he would drink every last drop.
During covid, you started going on morning runs because otherwise, you would've gone crazy. Especially having all of your uni classes online.
Quinn started joining you after a while because he was also going crazy, and the runs really really helped, especially because he got to do them with you.
You were also the one who taught Quinn how to cook during this time. And you were genuinely infuriated when he became a better cook than you. "I'll never forgive you" you grumble, while Quinn cackles as he pulls burnt aspargus out of the oven. "Student becomes the master" he shrugs, and you throw a handful of asparagus at him.
When Quinn got covid, you showed up at his apartment covered head to toe, complete with gloves, a mask, and eyewear, holding a container of chicken noodle soup.
Quinn laughed, immediately took a photo and then proceeded to launch into a coughing fit so bad he turned the colour of a tomato.
At which point you took a photo of him. The two of you keep the photos as blackmail, and if either of you were to ever use them, all hell would break loose.
You own so so so much canuck gear, it's unhinged (courtesy of Quinn of course.) You joked about starting to sell some stuff on eBay, and Quinn looked so genuinely distraught that you never made that joke again.
When you officially started teaching, all the canuck gear came in handy. Especially when you were being lazy and didn't have time to pick an outfit.
At first everyone thought you were just a Canuck super-fan, until one day Quinn had to drop you off at work because your car was in the shop.
Then of course everyone though the two of you were dating. Which got really annoying.
The first time you officially brought Quinn to class was because he had a full day off and didn't know what to do with himself. He begged you to take the day off to spend it with him, but "Some of us have real jobs Quinn."
"Hey! My job is real"
"Well, unfortunately for you I can't just not show up. You had to have given me at least a two day notice so I could've found a substitute."
"Y/nnnnn," he whined, flopping off your bed dramatically while you finished getting dressed. "What am I supposed to do all day?"
" If you're really so concerned about being bored to death, get dressed and come help me be a glorified babysitter for the day" you snorted
Quinn's head snapped up excitedly "wait seriously?"
You were joking, but it happened anyway.
The kids were so well-behaved that you debated bringing Quinn to work with you every day.
Whenever you were on a break, Quinn pestered you to be hanging out with him the whole time. Which usually ended up with recipe expiramenting, Quinn helping you mark papers and lesson plan, or Quinn dragging you along to practice/games/events etc.
One time, he even pestered you to come on a week long roadie with him during winter break. To which you declined - because that was definitely stepping over a 'best friend' relationship line, and you were under the firm impression that Quinn would never love you the way you loved him.
The guys always teased him mercilessly about being in love with you.
"For fucks sake, Huggy. Are you blind? Do you see the way she looks at you?"
After Quinn became captain, whenever his teammates threatened to tell you that he was in love with you he threatened to make them do bag skates for an entire practice.
They shut up really quick after that.
The team loves you, and they always say that whenever they have kids they are sending them to the school you teach at.
Whenever Quinn watched you interact with Kids he gets a little starry eyed and drooly.
Quinn is a very common topic of conversation in your classroom. You often use him as your muse whenever you're doing projects.
He loves it, and he keeps every single piece you've done on him. From art projects, to Health projects.
You even managed to use him in a math project once. (You used little cutouts of his head as addition blocks, he laughed so hard he was crying.)
If Quinn has a game on a week day, you try to wear some form of his merchandise, and he always asks for a fit picture.
Quinn never ever ever let you pay for anything. "You don't even make 1/10th of my salary"
"Way to make a girl feel good about her job,"
"Wait, I didn't mean it like that im sor- no wait. I'm not insulting your job, I'm insulting the people that pay you. You are literally raising our future generations, and the government pays you like trash. If anything, our salaries should be reversed. I basically work in the entertainment industry."
"Ok, well I can still afford to pay for my own shit" you grumble.
Quinn rolls his eyes. "Don't be so stubborn. Put your plastic bank card away. it's insulting in my presence"
"Sorry we don't all have metal fucking credit cards that make noise when we drop them" you spit back.
It continues to be a fight every. single. time.
Whenever you do somehow manage to pay, Quinn is fuming and throughly debates not talking to you for a week.
He never lasts more than a couple hours.
Whenever Quinn left for the summer, you got really lonely. Especially because as a teacher, you had the whole summer off.
He always invited you to come to Michigan with him, but there was always a nagging in your head about "crossing the best friend line"
One summer, you decided to teach summer school for high-schoolers to keep yourself busy. And it was fucking hell. Hormonal sweaty teenagers trying to learn a subject in three weeks rather than four months was so so bad.
Quinn gladly listened to you complain every day, "shoulda come to michigan with me." He would shrug
"Mom and dad have been asking about you," he would throw in quietly.
Which leads us into your relationship with Quinn's family.
Over the six years that the two of you have been friends you've met his parents and both his brothers.
Luke was fourteen, and Jack was sixteen when you met them for the first time.
They both fell IN LOVE with you.
They would call you to ask for homework help, often saying something like, "You're a teacher, what do i do?"
"I'm not a teacher yet, guys. I still have to finish my degree, you know." You would laugh awkwardly and help them anyways.
You blamed both Jack and Luke for the dreadful summer you taught high-schoolers. Simply because you had enjoyed teaching Jack and Luke so much, you thought it would be the same.
They had much the same response as their shithead older brother "you should've come to michigan"
As they grew and saw how you and Quinn looked at each other, they would tease him mercilessly as good brothers do.
"Dude, if you don't confess, I'll marry her." sixteen year old Luke would smirk
That had Quinn seething, and it was quite funny. "You fucking imbecile."
"Mom! Quinn called me a bad word!"
Jack was often cackling in the background or telling Quinn to stop being the world's biggest dumbass.
The day you saw Luke in person and he had grown taller than you, you collapsed dramatically into his arms and pinched his cheeks aggressively. Crying about your favourite little kiddo being all grown up.
Ever the awkward teenager Luke just blushed and grumbled about not being a baby.
Whenever Jack and Luke visit Vancouver, they always ask to visit your classroom.
The first time all three NHL superstar hughes brothers were in your classroom it was fucking chaos throughout the entire school. You got yelled at by the principal, and they had to leave while the cops chased away reporters.
The four of you will never forget the dressing down you got in the principals office that day. It felt like you were a group of playground bullies getting scolded for pushing kids off the slide.
"This is getting brought up at ALL of our weddings." Jack grins as the boys hug you goodbye and head over to Quinn's place.
"Yeah, all three weddings," Luke says with a mischievous grin.
Both you and Quinn blush and choose to ignore Luke's statement.
Until he's winking at you over dramatically and making duck lips at you. The Quinn is dragging him towards the car by his ear and promising to pick you up when school is out.
The way luke can swing between awkward twenty-year old and Youngest child menace is so funny to you.
Now onto Ellen and Jim
They also absolutely love you.
They have loved you since you were freshly nineteen and offering up your apartment for Quinn, when all you knew about him was that he was an anxious teenager.
Jim gives the best advice. He's especially knowledgeable when it comes to kids, "its not very different than dealing with grown men who strap blades to their feet and call it a job." He says teasingly, while all his kids protest.
Ellen is the sweetest angel of a human you have ever met. She takes no nonsense from her kids, and always makes sure Quinn is good to you.
She has a knowing twinkle in her eye when she sees you and Quinn together and it makes your chest ache a little.
Her hugs are always long, and her words sweet, and she always reminds you that you have a family with the Hughes no matter what.
---
Hey guys! Guess who's back and better than ever 😎 we're getting a fic between tomorrow and Saturday, so stay tuned. Anyways, I hope yall like this! If there's anything from here you'd like to see turned into a blurb/fic let me know! I've been super inspired for this universe as of late. Also I am going through the requests in my inbox. So if you requested something it's hopefully coming soon! I've been super busy with school, but it's calming down for a couple weeks and then finals will be in full swing! I love you all and I hope you enjoy this! As always comment comment comment! And I hope you guys are doing amazing.
Love Soph 🫶🏼🫶🏼
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ranposgirlboss · 1 year
Note
happy 11 followers!! can i have a scenario where in the DOA there’s the reader making fucking tiktoks of the DOA, and the police are frustrated as hell cause they can’t track you down 😭😭
ABSOLUTELY.
i made this from the pov of the officers >:)
grammatically correct shit post
genre: silly, platonic yall are just besties <33
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"Officer, they posted another one!"
The collective shuffling of papers was heard as everyone rushed toward the original announcer's destination.
"Where?! What is it?!"
They all gathered around, trying to see the computer the guy was sitting at.
nearly drowning sigma with nikolai challenge!! (gone wrong) (no sigmas were harmed in the making of this video)
"....what does this mean?" Asked one of the older officers.
"DOES THAT MATTER?! TRY TO TRACK THEM DOWN RIGHT NOW!!" Yelled the commander and the other officers got to work.
And yet, every time they tried to get the IP, Fyodor's mouse-like symbol appeared.
"Sir-"
"TRY ANOTHER VIDEO!!"
The man sighed and clicked on another.
me, nikolai and sigma question fyodors life decisions and almost get murdered!!
The officer watched a bit, hoping for some clues this time, but all he saw was this supposed "Nikolai" and the person holding the camera, yelling... some statement he couldn't remember, before running away giggling. The third person with two different hair colors was screaming in terror.
Ok, that's kinda funny.
However, before he could try to get information, he felt heavy breathing on his neck.
"Jared. Did you just laugh at one of their videos?"
"N-no sir-"
"You're fired, Jared. You don't understand how LONG I've been trying to get those FOOLS. You can't just laugh when we could be SO CLOSE TO FINALLY DISCOVERING WHO THESE PEOPLE ARE."
Jared's mouth was agape, but he knew there was no correct response to this. Maybe he could work at a car dealership or something.
He packed his things and walked out of there, finished with the frustrated screams of his co-workers in anger.
He was gonna get that job at Toyota.
-----------------------
BEFORE YOU ASK, YES, I AM BRINGING BACK JARED IN THE FUTURE. JUSTICE FOR JARED!!!
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THIS!!! MY REQS ARE ALWAYS OPEN BUT MIGHT TAKE A BIT LONGER FOR ME TO FINISH DUE TO ME R E A L L Y NEEDING TO DO MY HOMEWORK 🥶!!
HAVE AN AMAZING DAY NIGHT YES SLAY!!
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amazingmsme · 4 months
Text
With a Bow on Top
AN: Happy holidays to all who celebrate, & especially to @tickles-tea I’m your squealing santa! I loved writing this, & I hope you enjoy! Added a lil festive flare to this one. HUGE thanks to @hypahticklish for hosting! & be sure to follow @squealing-santa so you don’t miss out on all the winter fluff!
Miguel sat on the floor of Peter and MJ's living room, half-used rolls of wrapping paper scattered about the floor around him. Peter himself was sitting next to him, completely transfixed on the movie playing "for background noise."
That lying rat bastard.
"You know, I only said I'd bring my universe's Grinch because you promised you wouldn't get distracted and actually help out. Which, you're not doing," Miguel said bluntly. Peter snapped out of his Christmas movie haze to defend himself.
"Sorry, but I've just never seen it before!" He reached down and grabbed one of Mayday's unwrapped gifts. Folding the paper around the box, he finished by sealing it up with a web. Miguel rolled his eyes.
"What? My gift looks way cooler than yours, you're just jealous of my artistic flare," he said smugly.
"Don't get me wrong, it looks great, but how's she gonna open it?" Miguel asked with a smirk. Peter's brow's nearly kissed his hairline as he came to the realization.
"Shit! Well, hopefully by Christmas it'll be weak enough to tear through," he finished with a shrug, slapping a bow on top and sliding it under the tree. As Peter reached for another present, he noticed a scrap piece of ribbon, much too short to fit around a box. Then, his gaze trailed over to his unassuming friend. Perfect.
He picked it up, fluttering it along the back of Miguel's neck. Peter can hear him gasp, and isn't that a lovely sound. He rolls his broad shoulders, arching his back and scrunching his neck ever so slightly. By the time he whipped around to glare at the perpetrator, he had already retracted his hands, hiding them innocently in his pockets.
Miguel looked him up and down before returning to his work. To his credit, Peter waited a few seconds before striking once more. Miguel sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, rubbing his ear against his shoulder to rid himself of the lingering tingles.
"Peter?"
"Hm?"
"I know you're not really working," he deadpanned. Peter sputtered in shock.
"I am too! Look, a perfectly wrapped gift!" he said proudly, holding out Mayday's present. Miguel looked it over, only half amused.
"You're right, a gift. So why not pick up the pace?" he challenged, tossing a Spider-Man themed basketball his way that Peter had planned on giving Miles. Peter caught it with one hand, and Miguel rolled his eyes. Showoff.
"How the hell am I supposed to wrap a ball?"
"I don't know wise guy, you're the one who got it for him." Okay, Peter wasn't sorry for what he was about to do.
He grabbed a marker off the floor and uncapped it with his teeth, making a satisfying pop sound. He barely bit back a snicker as he leaned in, quickly scribbling at the back of his neck. A strangled squeal caught in his throat at he snatched Peter's wrist in one hand, the other rubbing at his neck.
"You think you're funny or somethin'?" he asked with a cold glare.
"Hilarious, actually," Peter corrected with a shrug. Miguel scoffed and let him go.
"Go back to watching the damn movie if you're just gonna bother me," he suggested, grabbing a new tube of wrapping paper to switch things up. Can't have them all looking the same, now can we?
Why not both? Peter thought to himself, an evil grin growing on his face that rivaled the Grinch onscreen. He grabbed two pieces of ribbon discarded on the floor holding them poised to strike between his fingers. Miguel had his back turned, busy wrapping another present and allowing himself to get sucked into the movie. He was practically serving himself up on a silver platter. He really ought to know better by now...
Or maybe he didn't totally mind Peter's shenanigans. But that was a silly, fleeting thought.
Or was it? Only one way to find out.
Ever so quietly, he scooted closer to Miguel, snatching the marker off the floor. The grumpy Spider-Man was sporting a pair of ripped jeans. (He constantly made sure people knew he didn't buy them like that and that he earned those holes and rips.) A particularly large hole left his knee exposed and vulnerable for an attack... Perfect.
He let out a surprised snort, jerking his leg away before a chuckle could follow. They were locked in an intense staring contest, or glaring contest, on Miguel's part. Peter wore an innocent grin, though his next words were anything but.
"What's wrong big guy? Ticklish?"
If it were anyone else, they wouldn't have noticed the way he flinched at the question.
"No."
"Really? You're sticking to that lie?"
Miguel huffed, angrily slapping a bow on top of a present. "It's not a lie."
"Well in that case, I'm not ticklish either," Peter boldly proclaimed. Miguel looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Since we're being honest and all." Miguel grabbed a tube of wrapping paper, bonking Peter on the head in one swift motion before he even knew what happened.
"Don't forget I'm the one helping you," he reminded pointedly.
"Noted," Peter said, grabbing the tube from him and setting it beside MJ's new boots. For good measure, he started wrapping the gift until Miguel turned away. Then it was back to scheming.
He scanned the pile of unwrapped gifts for inspiration, smiling to himself when he spotted a handheld massager he got as a stocking stuffer.
"Hey Miguel?" he elected to ignore the annoyed groan he was met with, "Can you do me a favor?"
"No."
"Perfect! Just tell me if this massager is any good, okay? I don't want it to be too weak or painful, or not have enough settings." He heard Miguel sigh in defeat.
"Whatever."
"Thanks!" He scooted closer to him, turning on the X-shaped massager. At first he decided to play nice and actually work out the tension in his friend's shoulders before setting his plan into motion. He had to rebuild some trust, after all.
"Not bad, I think she'll like this," Miguel hummed, letting his head fall to one side as he began to relax. He was really watching the movie now, allowing himself a moment to enjoy it. It was one of the more heartfelt scenes of the film, and one of his favorites. He found he tended to like the more subtle, meaningful holiday movies rather than the over the top comedies and rom coms that dominated the season.
The last thing he was expecting was a dreadfully ticklish buzzing on his side.
His resolve gave way as he fell onto one side, loud surprised cackles spilling out into the room and drowned out the sound of the TV.
"Peheheter! Quit ihihit!"
"I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you through all that laughing. Which is weird, considering how not ticklish you are," he taunted, running the massager over his abs. Miguel curled in on himself, a giggly groan slipping out in response to the teasing.
"You're hohohorrible, you know thahat?" he asked, weakly swatting at Peter's hands, but to no avail.
Peter snorted. "Maybe to you."
The gentle vibrations traveled from his belly up his sides and to his ribs, causing the deep rumbling chuckles to build up momentum. Encouraged by this, Peter grabbed his wrist and wrestled his arm above his head, pinning it in place.
"Wahait!" he cried, trying to fend him off with his other hand. Peter grinned down at him, the textbook definition of smug.
"Okay. Well? What am I waiting for?" he asked, hovering the tool above his armpit menacingly. Miguel slammed his head against the ground in frustration.
"Gehehet off of me, you asshole!" he demanded through giggles.
"Why should I?" Peter challenged.
He just won't quit, will he? Miguel had no choice but to surrender, if they ever wanted to get done wrapping, that is.
"Fihihine, okay? You wihihin!" he conceded, rolling around on the ground. ,!"
"Wow, okay, so what do I win?" he asked, pulling his hands away to give him a breather. Miguel panted and glared up at him.
"I'm fuckin' ticklish, okay? There, happy?" he growled through residual giggles.
"Over the moon," Peter confirmed. He patted Miguel's chest as he let him go, crawling over to the pile of unwrapped presents. "No more funny business, I promise!" he assured. Miguel only rolled his eyes, a fond smile still lingering on his face.
"Yeah yeah, I'll believe it when I see it."
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rae-pottah · 8 months
Text
I Just Stood There.
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Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Rossi's daughter! reader
Y/n = your name
L/n = your last name
Warnings: she/her pronouns, shitty writing?,fluff.
Summary: after embarrassing herself in front of her crush, Y/n rants to Penelope, bad idea.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*Y/n's POV*
Hanging out with my dad's coworkers was fun. Except when it came to my tiny little small incy weenie crush on Dr. Spencer Reid... And I think everyone knows...
⏪⏪⏪⏪⏪
Meeting the BAU team was a blast! I had been coming by to see my dad, seeing as how we don't spend much time together anymore.
First I bumped into SSA Derek Morgan, and Tech nerd Penelope Garcia:
"He-llo, momma!" said Morgan
"Don't scare her away already hot stuff!" Penelope hit his arm "Hi honey bunches, I'm Penelope, this is Derek, who are you? Are you a newbie?"
"Haha! No, I'm Y/n, I'm here to see my father!" I laugh, they looked confused
Next, SSA Jennifer Jareau (otherwise known as JJ) and SSA Emily Prentiss
"Who's this?" JJ asks Garcia
"This is Y/n, she's here to see her father!" Garcia tells her, confused. None of them letting me speak JJ asks
"Who's her father?" With a confused face as well
"Wh-" Garcia starts to ask me a question when my Father, and Uncle Aaron walked in
"UNCLE AARON!" I ran up to him and jump hugged him
I could see my dad off to the side holding his arms open with a playful confused/hurt look on his face, looking from side to side
"No hug for dear old dad, no sirey, just here for the money" he said sarcastically to no one
"Glad you know" I joked, and gave him a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek
"So I have lunch I was hoppiii-" I stuttered off as I watched a beautiful man, a genius, a fluffy haired, angelic, smart, kind man walk by me, his name
Doctor Spencer fuckin Reid
"Aaand she's gone" my dad said bringing me back to reality, now noticing everyone smiling at me, him not even noticing I'm here put his stuff down at his desk
"Wwwhat his papers are insanely good" I whispered looking at my shoes
"Well, I'd still like to know what the hell is going on?!" Morgan asks
"This is one of my daughters from my second marriage" he finishes the sentence with a kiss to my head
"Also I already knew your names, my father has prepared me well" I laughed
"Huh and I guess you know pretty boy?" Morgan asks with a smirk, still working at his desk (I'd have to meet him later) I nodded quickly with a blush
"I think she knows him more than she knows any of you, and she's actually met you guys now" my father answers, while everyone starts "oouu" -ing and laughing, I just blushed with my head down
⏩⏩⏩⏩⏩
I eventually met Spencer when everyone came to our house for a cook out, walking backward with a chair isn't a good idea when you can't see behind you.
"OUFF" hit a wall, wait... walls don't make noises
I put the chair down and turn around "OH MY GoD, Im So SorRy" my voice cracked as I spoke to the man in front of me "Are you okay?" I asked
"Haha yeah I'm fine, it was my fault anyway, I wasn't looking where I was going. You're Y/n right?" I instantly blushed
"y-yeah I am, Doctor Spencer Reid, if I'm not incorrect?"
"yes!" He smiled, absolutely beautiful. He helped me move the chair and we talked slightly, me stuttering the entire time.
⏭️⏭️⏭️⏭️⏭️
Again visiting my father at work, today was gonna be a good day.
I was getting ready to turn the corner to my fathers office when I ran into someone
"Sor- oh hi" it's like his ears were hurting, why do I have to run into you while I'm thinking about what a domesticated you would look like
"Hi, how are you?" He must have just woke up because his voice was deep as hell, and he had dark circles under his beautiful brown eyes
"-hi-" I couldn't think of anything else to say, I walked away quickly
"Hey can we go for lunch?" I asked my dad quickly
"Sorry kid, we got a case" disappointing but at least I can talk to Garcia alone (we've become good friends)
A while after they left:
I just walked straight into Garcia's office
"I SAID HI, TWICE" I said terrified
"Woah woah woah, what are we flipping out about" she looked very concerned
"I said hi twice! We bumped into each other and I said 'oh hi' and he said 'hi, how are you?' And I JUST SAID HI AGAIN?! WHY DOES HE HAVE TO REDUCE MY IQ TO 3?!"
"Wai- you mea-" I cut her off
"Spencer! Yes! Duh! Why does he have to be so hot and smart and adorable, I mean have you read his paper on quantum physics?! Only a perfect man could be that smart and THAT HOT!" I flopped on the couch in her bat cave
"Okay, baby doll, please don't be mad at me, I tried to tell you!" Only then did I look down to see the little red light being produced from the phone
"No."
"Yes." She said in a sorry voice
"Who are you on the phone with?" I asked nervously
"Oh! Actually hotch!"
"I'm not afraid to remove your knee caps Uncle Aaron." I said dangerously
"I'll help her hide the body!" Garcia shouted
"Ha.Ha. you want the bad news or good news?"
We stayed quiet
"Okay bad news is, the entire time Garcia's been on speaker, including the time that you ranted about boy genius, also bad news I'm sitting around everyone"
I could have cried until he said
"Good news is, is he can't stop smiling"
"EA" I let out a small yelp from Garcia nudging me and the information.
"You'll have to wait till we get back to ask her out, Rossi quit death staring him, you already knew, here's your fifty"
I ran out of the room and home, soon enough a couple days later there was a knock at my apartment door
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ghostphobic · 1 year
Text
╼ begin again . 2 
abby anderson x reader
← previous part | next part →
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cw - angst (kinda?) , reader is implied to be feminine presenting (mention of reader wearing a skirt) 
wc : 1.7k
a/n - this is mostly a filler chapter im sorry skdmgmkg.
disclaimer : this has not been proofread.
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There's a plethora of emotions running through Abby at the sight of you. Everything she's been feeling, or not feeling, the last 5 years hits her all at once. She's barely able to hear the barista call out her order through the ringing in her ears. Everything is silent and unmoving and all she sees is you. You're the same, but slightly older. Your hair is different, you're a bit taller, and she notes that your outfit is something comfortable that you likely threw on this morning before walking to class. You look happy and healthy. You look like you. 
It feels like hours have passed since she first laid eyes on you, but she's aware it's only been a few seconds. Both of you are silent and unsure of what to say, but the sound of your phone ringing quickly cuts the tension. Abby looks away from you, and you look away from her as you answer the call. 
Abby sees the caller ID listed as 'Dina' and watches as you answer. You utter a 'What?' into the phone with a tone that's unusually harsh for you. Or, at least the you that Abby once knew. Whatever 'Dina' is saying irritates you, but you take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself down. "Alright. Yeah. I'm on my way." are your final words to the girl on the other line before hanging up. 
"I have to go." You say, your voice filled with something she can't place. "I promised my roommate I'd proofread her paper before she turns it in tonight." 
"No worries." Abby says, "It was nice seeing you again. You look well." The comment is vague on purpose. Abby's not sure any words can capture how she feels looking at you right now.
You give her a small, but genuine, smile. "It was nice seeing you too, Abby." 
You move to leave but Abby lets her instincts take over and gently grabs your arm. You turn to her with a questioning look on your face. "Would you want to grab a coffee or something tomorrow?" She says. "We could just— I don't know. We could talk." 
You give her another smile. "Yeah. I'd like that. Does 10 AM work? We could meet here." 
She nods. "Yeah, that works." 
"Alright." You say. "It's a date." 
* * * 
"What the hell, Dina." You say, throwing yourself down on your bed and burying your head in your pillow. "5 years later, and all of a sudden she shows up at my school? I thought I'd never see her again. I don't even know how to feel. What if she's angry with me? What if she only asked me to get coffee because she wants to tell me to stay as far away from her as possible? What the fuck am I gonna do?" 
You hear her close her laptop from her side of the room and then, "First, you're gonna slow down. Second," You feel her pull the pillow off your head and you open your eyes to look at her. "what do you mean she asked you to get coffee?" 
"She asked if we could meet for coffee tomorrow and said we could talk. Why?" 
"I'd say that's a good sign." 
"How do you know?" 
Dina shrugs, and motions for you to scoot over so she can sit beside you "Coffee is much less formal. If it were serious she'd probably ask you to lunch. Also, Ellie and I went on our first date at a coffee shop. The same one you always go to as a matter of fact." 
You roll your eyes. "Ellie asked you to that coffee shop because she can't drive and hates going off campus. It's not like she was gonna take you to the dining hall for a date." 
"Hey, worry less about my girlfriend and more about yours." 
"Dina!" You groan, "Not helping." 
"Alright, alright." She says, followed by a moment of silence. Then, "So what are you gonna wear tomorrow? You should wear that black miniskirt. It makes your ass look great." 
"God, you're irritating." You say, and move to shove her off your bed. "Now get up and finish your paper." 
* * * 
You're filled with nothing but anxiety when you wake up the following morning. It's 8:30 AM on a Saturday and Dina just left on a morning run, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You climb out of the safety of your bed with a groan, deciding it's probably time to get ready. 
By 9:30 you're completely ready, and you give yourself a once-over in the mirror. You're going for, mostly, put-together, but low effort and comfortable. Can't have her thinking you're excited to see her or anything. Because that would be crazy. It's not like you can feel your heart pounding, and it's not like you're choosing to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. 
The walk to the coffee shop is chilly, and when you walk inside you're grateful for the warmth. It's 9:55 and, as you expected, Abby isn't there yet. So, you order yourself a drink and have a seat while you wait for her. 
Eleven minutes go by, your drink is half gone, and you begin to think she's not gonna show. Then you hear the familiar chime of the bell on the door and look up to see her walking in. Your heart leaps and warms all at once, and you give yourself a moment to take her in before she sees you. Her hair is down and just past her shoulders, her eyes are tired— as if she just woke up, and she has her hands stuffed in the pocket of a sweatshirt adorning the university's logo. 
After a moment of looking around she finally spots you, a soft smile slipping onto her face as she makes her way over to you. You stand up to greet her and are shocked when she pulls you in for a hug. You wrap your arms around her middle and close your eyes, willing yourself not to cry at the overwhelming sense of familiarity and warmth you feel. 
God, you'd missed her. 
It takes several moments for her to pull away, but once she does you wish she hadn't. She takes a seat across from you, nervously rubbing the palms of her hands on her pants. There's an awkward silence, neither of you sure what to say. Both of you are mutually trying to figure out the best way to approach this, and you're both realizing that it's going to be harder than you thought. 
You decide starting with small talk might break the tension, "So... did you just transfer here?"
"Yeah. Just this past semester. I was recruited by the women's hockey coach and decided to transfer. The team here is much better. It just felt right." She says. "But enough of that. What have you been up to? What has it been? 5 years?" 
"Yeah, it has." You say, a sad feeling taking over every time you realize it's been that long. But you quickly shove it down. "As for what I've been up to... I don't know. Everything? Nothing? High school went by in a blur, and so have the last two years I've been here. All I know is that I'm happy where I am, and I'm happy with the path I'm on." 
Abby gives you a genuine smile. "I'm happy to hear that. You deserve to feel that way." 
You return her smile but aren't sure what to say after that. You're both avoiding the elephant in the room, and you're both aware of it. This isn't just acquaintances catching up, you were best friends in every sense of the word. Most of the time it felt like more than that. It was something akin to soulmates, but both of you felt silly admitting that at the time. 
"I'm sorry," Abby says suddenly. "I'm sorry I left." 
"What are you sorry for?" She doesn't need to apologize for anything, but there's a multitude of things she could be apologizing for. As familiar as she feels, you don't know this Abby. Most things with her are likely going to be a guessing game until you can completely work her out. 
"Everything. Nothing. I don't know." Her hands are fidgety in her lap and she avoids eye contact. "I just feel like I need to apologize." 
"You don't." You assure her. "There's not a single thing you need to apologize for. I'm good as long as you are." 
She lets out a shaking breath, her eyes finally meeting yours. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good." 
You smile at each other once again, both of you going quiet once again. It's not awkward though. This time it's much more comfortable and it stays that way until an alarm on Abby's phone rings. She pulls it out of her pocket and dismisses it. 
"I'm so sorry to cut this short, but I need to make it to practice before 11:30 and I have something I have to do before I go." She stands up, and you follow suit. "This sounds stupid, but do you think we could exchange numbers? I just want to make sure we can get in touch. As long as that's alright with you." 
"Yeah of course!" You say, a little too enthusiastically but you're not sure she notices. 
The two of you exchange numbers, and then Abby pulls you in for another hug. Your arms go around her middle once again, and you let out a soft sigh. "It was really good to see you, Abs." 
Abby closes her eyes at the nickname, squeezing you a little bit tighter. "It was really good to see you too." 
She pulls away with a goodbye and walks out feeling lighter and more hopeful than she has in, well, 5 years. 
You stand there with your phone clutched in your hand, and you too feel hopeful. You don't miss how vague her apology was and how she avoided basically everything that happened, but that's okay. You'd do anything to have her back in your life like she used to be, so taking things slow and avoiding topics is a small price to pay. 
Baby steps.
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jazzmynerule · 7 months
Text
first valentine’s
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prompt: stiles wanted nothing more than to make the perfect gift for y/n’s first valentines with him but he doesn’t have enough money to get her what she deserves so he takes it upon himself to make her a bouquet of lego flowers
warnings: mild amounts of swearing but other than that it’s pure fluff
by the way this is in stiles’ pov
…………………………………….
“scott i don’t know what to get her honestly she’s deserves a bunch of diamonds and rubies not a hunk of junk life of chocolate and halfway dead flowers” i scoffed as scott and i walked towards our lockers
“stiles it’s y/n she’s gonna love anything you give to her”
he’s got a point i mean for her birthday i made a lousy ass card with a bunch of poems and she put it in a frame and hung it on her wall there’s nothing you can’t give this girl that she won’t absolutely adore
“omg you just gave me the perfect idea scott, have i ever told you you’re my best friend and i love you? because i really love you” i smooched his cheek and ran outside to my car driving straight home
after around about 4-5 hours i sat on my bed trying to create little lego bouquets when dad walked in my room
“what in the hell are you doing kid?” he asked leaning against my door frame
“trying to make the perfect valentines gift for y/n” i answered without looking up from my project
“you’re in head over your heels boy” he laughed closing my door and walking back down stairs
“yeah clearly” i smiled continuing on with my disaster of a present
-2 hours later-
i was still sat on my bed finishing my present when a i heard a knock on the door
“stiles it’s me! open up!” y/n yelled knocking on my door repeatedly
“shit shit shit shit” i whispered trying to cover up my present
“stiles i’ve got your present! can you open up please” she continued
“coming love” i said as i opened my bedroom door
she stood there with a big box in her hands wrapped in red wrapping paper and finished with a red bow on the top
“baby what in the hell did you get me” i groaned now knowing my present was gonna look like utter garbage next to the one she got me
“shut the fuck up and open it!” she squealed handing me the present
i took the present from her and sat down on my desk chair
carefully i unwrapped the first and immediately jumped up and kissed her beautiful face
“the whole star wars universe in one box? baby i fucking love you!” i said in between kisses
“stiles!” she giggled
“okay don’t judge what i got you please i don’t have enough money to get you the things you deserve but i did spend hours trying to make this perfect for you” i sighed pulling back my blankets and revealing my massive bouquet of lego flowers
“omg stiles”
i look up at her seeing her eyes go wide with admiration
“it’s a representation of our love, when these die so will our love.. which would be never because they are made of legos so we’ll last fore-“ before i could even finish my sentence she’s pulled me into the biggest bear hug
“you’re literally the cutest human being i’ve ever met i am so lucky” she smiled kissing my cheek
“happy valentine’s day my beautiful girl i love you always” i smiled back at her kissing her forehead ever so gently
“happy valentines sti” she hummed
….
i hate how badly i want this kind of relationship ;-;
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ambcass · 7 months
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Betrayed.
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“I can’t stand him!” Y/N exclaimed, throwing a fit while walking with her best friend, Jaime Reyes. Her anger made her walk faster, making Jaime chase after her. It all started when Jaime noticed Y/N distancing herself from him and he asked why, she said it was nothing and just to mind his own business. During their gym class, Jaime noticed how violet Y/N was when playing a dodgeball match but he couldn’t help to notice how her arm was bruised. He also wondered how she was able to throw and dodge a ball like that. That bruise made him realize that it was the same spot where he hit a specific villain last night. The thought of his best friend being a villain hurts him. He tried removing the thought but it just came back every time he tried to shake it off. After school and on his way home, he spotted Y/N and decided to walk up to her. 
“I know you probably don’t wanna talk about your problems right now but ya’know I’m here for you…” Jaime suggested with a soft smile. Y/N turned to him with a dull expression and kept moving forward. Jaime once again followed up in front of her, “Can I at least walk with you? I do feel bad and I can’t stand to see you like this” Jaime pleaded, making Y/N give in. She nodded and the two started walking to the local 7-11 store. On their way, Y/N randomly blurted out “I can’t stand him!” and started marching towards the store angrily. Jaime followed up, hoping to hear more about this mystery guy. “Who? Who’s bothering you?” Jaime asked. Y/N scoffed as she opened the store door.
“You don’t know him…” She said, trying to keep her cool. She couldn’t expose herself to a guy who would most likely betray him to the heroes. “At least you can describe him. I’ll get a better idea of who the hell the guy is. If he is that much of a bother to you then I’ll make sure he gets it coming.” Y/N started chuckling, “And what the hell are you gonna do to this guy? But fine. He’s annoying, always on my ass, and doesn’t stop until he gets his way. Which annoys me because he went way too far yesterday.” Jaime stop to think too far? What does she mean too far? She was the one causing harm and trying to poison the water supply. Is it her? Please... Please… tell me that (villain name) isn’t you, Y/N. Jaime then felt Y/N nudge him. She mouthed you okay?  and Jaime nodded. They went inside the store and went to the chip aisle. When reaching for a bag of Takis, the sides of their hands touched each other. The two retracted immediately and looked away embarrassed.
“So…What did he do that was too far?” Jaime asked, trying to change the subject. Y/N grabbed that bag of Takis and walked off to a different aisle. “He- uh… I-I can’t say. Sorry.” Y/N tried to explain but she knew that Jaime wouldn’t believe her. Jaime gave a sympathetic nod. When the two finished paying for their food, they said goodbye and left. 
Y/N’s POV
It was very late at night. Almost 4 AM. I had to wait for the perfect time to cause any harm to anyone. Two nights ago, stupid Blue Beetle roundhouse kicked the shit out of me. I thought to myself when I find this bug, I swear I’m going to fucking smash and kill it. As I aggressively put on my suit, a shadowy reflection flew past my window and they left a sticky note on the outside of my window saying “Meet me on top of the xxx building. Rooftop –BB.”  I rushed to my window, opened it, and snatched the sticky note. The writing was in all blue ink. I knew who this was. My heart started beating fast, I felt nauseous and anxious. How was he able to find where I live? Was one of the many questions racing in my mind. I crushed the paper and tossed it over my bed as I finished changing into my suit. I flew out the window and headed towards the address. As I was flying there, I tried to retract where I went wrong and how I blew my cover so easily. Nothing came to mind and while trying to come up with another explanation, I had already arrived. There was a figure lurking in the shadows, eyeing me down as I landed on the rooftop of the building. 
“Come out, Beetle. I see you in the shadows. Hey, if you were a Shadow then you wouldn’t even make it out of Santa Prisca alive. Your dumb blue armor gives you away” I teased, crossing my arms as Blue Beetle slowly came into the light. I glared into his eyes and stepped closer. Pulling out (some type of weapon) out and pointing towards him. “How did you find me? How did you find where I live?” Blue Beetle didn’t answer but he simply just stepped forward. “Y/n…” Beetle murmured. Y/n? What the fuck? How did he know? I stood there in silence. He walked closer, closer, and closer, but I didn’t move a muscle. Now he was in front of me. I looked down at the rooftop floor while feeling Blue Beetle’s hand reach for my arm. I looked up at him and snarled.“Don’t touch me.” He immediately let go and sighed. 
“Why Y/n? Why would you go through this path? You know better than this.”  He said, trying to get an answer from me. I knew better than to answer. After all, anything I say can and will go against me.  As I was still glaring into his eyes, his face armor started to retract back to his suit. I broke eye contact and turned my head away, refusing to lock eyes with him. No, no, no…not him. Not him!  My head started to get foggy and blank. I felt nauseous and took a few steps back. I couldn’t believe that the boy that I cared for, my best friend, Jaime Reyes, is a fucking traitor and gave me that awful beating two nights ago.  “Look Y/n, can we please talk about this? Please just hear me out.” I ignored his suggestion. Still not looking at him. I was angry, betrayed, and sad. Tears wanted to come out of my eyes but I held back. With a sour look on my face, I gazed into Jaime’s eyes and mouthed “I’m sorry”  He looked at me with confusion. “I’m sorry? Sorry for what?” he asked, looking at me like a pathetic pleasing bitch. I shook my head repetitively and walked towards the edge of the rooftop. I leaped off of it, disappearing and never to be seen again.
Jaime’s POV:
I rushed after Y/N when I saw her leap off the edge of the rooftop but when I tried looking for her, she was nowhere to be seen. I attached my face armor back and flew back home. As I was flying back, I kept thinking to myself What does she mean when she said she’s sorry? What was she sorry for? Days went on and I haven’t seen Y/N attack since. Which is probably a good thing but she wasn’t at school either. It’s like she disappeared from the face of Earth. A few months went by and I still haven’t seen Y/N at all! I asked around at school such as Paco, Brenda, and the staff but they haven’t seen her. I talked to the principal but I didn’t get much from him. The only thing I got from him was that Y/N is no longer in their school system.
When I was dismissed from school, Brenda and Paco both offered to walk me home but I declined. Once I got home, I didn’t even think of patrolling for the night. I just wanted to rest. I can’t help the feeling but I miss Y/N. 
I woke up to a crowd outside of my house screaming and yelling but I couldn’t hear anything. My mom rushed into my room screaming into my ear but I couldn’t understand what she was saying for I was still half asleep. She dragged my arm into the living room and turned my attention to the TV. The news reporter was saying something but for some reason, I couldn’t understand what it was that he was saying until I started reading the words that were displayed on the screen. My face froze, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
Local High School Teenager Jaime Reyes Is the Superhero Blue Beetle.
a/n: AHHH THIS TOOK SO LONGGGGGGGG. IM SORRY MY GRAMAR IS SO DOOKIEEE :((
Word count: 1,483
Character Count: 7,572
literally ty @miguelnation bc idk if this is even angst or not
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openminded-freak · 1 year
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Wally x Feral!Reader Pt. 3
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I woke up on the floor with a killer headache and a lot of questions.
First of all, where the actual hell am I? I know damn well this isn't my house because there's not a single object in my home that is as colorful as these fucking walls. There was paint splatters everywhere and not a drop of white to be found on them. There were also painting supplies littered around the room, like paint cans and brushes.
And second of all, what's up with this shitty headache? I know it's not a hangover because there's not a drop of alcohol in this neighborhood. Trust me, I've looked.
I figured I'd sit up and look around. At least I wouldn't be laying on the nasty ass floor. Seriously, when's the last time this room's been swept?
There were papers taped all over the walls. Some were cute drawings of the neighborhood and it's inhabitants, some were detailed paintings of random objects, like an apple or a colorful feather, and there was also just random doodles. That wasn't what got me concerned, however. The drawings of me were what really got my attention. Not just drawings though, there was messages along with them.
"You're the apple of my eye."
"I'm your best friend."
"I can't see you. Do you see me?"
"You don't like me, Neighbor."
"I'm looking at you."
I was so distracted by the messages that I didn't notice him come into the room until I heard a quiet giggle behind me. I whipped around to see Wally standing there with his arms behind his back, smiling.
"Dafuq?-"
"Neighbor! I'm so glad you're awake.. You were asleep for a long time.. Ha.. Ha.." He stood there staring at me for moment, waiting for me to say something. I just stared at him blankly.
"Ha.. Anyways.. I brought you here so we could bond together! I know we had a rough start, but I want to be your friend-"
"You literally kidnapped me but pop off king."
His smile became strained at that. "Ahem.. As I was saying.. I think we could become great friends if you'd give me a chance, Neighbor.. Home won't let you leave until you do.."
I gave him a weird look. I mean, yeah, Home can lock all the doors but has this mf never heard of windows? Crazy aaah.
He ignored my look. "Did you like the messages I left for you? I think they're the most.."
"What up, I'm Jared, I'm 19, and I never fucking learned how to read."
"What-" He didn't get to finish whatever he was gonna say before I picked up a paint can and shattered a window.
Wally yelped and Home screeched something terrible. The noise sounded like it was coming out of the walls themselves and it was ear-piercingly loud. It didn't affect me much though. After all of the death metal that I used to blare through my speakers, I was almost deaf.
"IT'S FREE REAL ESTATE, BITCH," I screamed as I leapt through the broken window. I hit the ground hard but got up quick and started running to Julie's. I'll hide in her fucking hair if I have to, as long as I'm safe from this fucked up muppet.
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angel-of-the-moons · 6 months
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Fun Before (Diaper) Duty
Peter B Parker x Wife!Reader
TW/CW: NSFW, Smut, Sex, grinding, dry humping, pegging, sex toys, PiV sex, unprotected sex, creampie, talks of pregnancy, trying for a baby, cumming inside with the intent to make said baby, Peter being a whining mess , Dom(?)!Reader, Sub!Peter, (sort of?) no refractory period, drain this mans dryyyy
MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
A/N: This is an AU of sorts where MJ doesn't exist and the Reader is Peter's Wife. Takes places after the first movie (Obvi). It's just a thing that's been bouncing around in my head and I need to get the brainworm out!!!
(And as usual header does not indicate reader's race)
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It had been some time since you guys ran into your... "problems."
It had been some time since he came home after apparently interacting with someone who changed his mind on what you talked about.
Kids.
Babies.
Having them.
He explained in great detail what happened, how Miles in particular had just... changed him. Woke him up inside, made his inner Papa Bear come out.
It made him realize he did want kids.
And if realizing he actually did want kids was something, Peter B Parker really enjoyed the task of making said kids.
The two of you indulged in it as often as possible, twining together in bed, or on the couch, in the shower, in the kitchen... Once when you met him on a rooftop to bring him some dinner when you were in the area.
Yeah, Peter wasn't much of the "public sex" type, the poor guy. The moment he came inside you he was a blubbering--still hard--mess and he web-slung you two home to make love to you properly. I.e he basically let you pin him to the couch and ride him until he couldn't feel his legs.
Even that Spider-Man stamina had its limits.
More often than not he was out most nights doing his Spider-Man routine, fighting crime, saving people... Even picking up an extra part-time job for some extra cash.
"Y'know, babies are expensive!" Peter had laughed with you over some crappy Chinese takeout.
"I know, but honey..." You sighed, finishing off your noodles nd dropping the chopsticks in the paper container.
"My job pays well, and I even negotiated with my boss so I can work from home from now on. I'll only need to go into the office for meetings or something important, so taking care of a baby is no problem. Our bills are covered, and... You got your hero gig. I don't want you to overwork yourself, Peter."
"Babe." Peter smiled at you sweetly. That same, charmingly goofy smile as he turned to face you on the couch.
"I just wanna make sure we have all our bases covered. I love you, and I wanna make sure our baby has everything they're gonna need."
"C'mon, Tiger." You smiled sweetly at him. "You already work your ass off being a superhero. And we're trying to have a baby, and once that baby is here we're both going to have our hands full."
He brought your knuckles to his lips to give them a kiss. "Which is exactly why I want the extra cash. I want to make sure you two have everything you deserve."
You smile and lean in, brushing your nose against his affectionately.
"I already got you, dummy."
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Two more months passed.
Two more months.
Months of you not getting pregnant yet. Neither of you knew what the problem was, you planned meticulously, tracked your ovulation and menstrual cycles... Hell, you even drank some kind of herbal tea that was supposed to boost fertility. But... No dice.
Your doctor told you it wasn't uncommon, that some people just don't get pregnant on the first few tries.
The difference was that you and Peter tried more than "the first few tries".
It was frustrating, but you held out hope.
You two would be parents. You would.
Peter had even told you he was hoping for a little girl.
He was going to name her Mayday.
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Tonight, you had just gotten out of the shower after getting back from the gym. You were sweaty and gross and ugh, you really needed it after staring at spreadsheets all day.
Your hair was a dripping mess, but you decided to let it air dry.
You put on one of Peter's button up shirts and at the last second, decided to wear the laciest panties you owned and couldn't help but grin.
It would be a nice surprise for Peter when he got home.
After all, what husband wouldn't wanna come home to their wife wearing nothing but one of their shirts and a pair of lacy panties?
And bingo! You were right.
You had your back to him as you downed your glass of juice when he came through the door.
"Hey, Babycakes!" Peter whistled as he locked the door behind him again. "I brought some--"
You heard whatever bags he had in his hands drop, along with his keys.
"....Well." He said, clearing his throat as you turned around, smiling at him slyly.
"Well?" You purr, leaning on the wall.
"I feel a tad overdressed." He mumbled, a blush on his cheeks as he looked down at himself.
"Peter B Parker, is that a blush I see in your cheeks?" You giggle.
"I, uh, uhm--" Peter coughed awkwardly; you could see his Adams apple bob in effort as he swallowed an imaginary lump. Then, he held the bag up.
"Got dinner from the Greek restaurant down the street?"
You smile and shake your head, taking the bag from him as you walk to the couch, opening the plastic containers to see what dinner your wonderful husband brought home for the two of you.
You decide to give Peter mercy, for now, as his shoulders sag and he pulls off his trenchcoat, hanging it on the peg, revealing the Spider-Man suit along with the sweatpants he was wearing.
His choice in hero outfits lately had you endeared to him even more, with his quirky nature.
"Uh, I'm... I'm gonna change, m'kay?" He says, a lopsided smirk on his face, cheeks still just a bit pink.
"Mhmmm." You wink at him as he walks by.
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You finished chowing down on your gyro with a happy hum, wiggling in place as the two of you watch whatever dumb cop show happened to be on.
You snuggled under Peter's arm as he licked his fingers clean of the remnants of his food and rubbed his cheek on the top of your head.
"How was patrol tonight?" You asked him softly.
"Oh, boring, actually. Like, a few purse snatchers but thankfully nothing where anyone got hurt." Peter told you.
"Well that's good, maybe supervillains are deciding to take a vacation for a bit?" You muse playfully.
"Oh, god, that would be amazing." Peter groaned, dropping his head back on the cushions of the couch.
"They go to the annual Villains' Club and are like "You know what? Let's all take a trip to Fiji! Give Spider-Man a break!"
You giggle and kiss his jaw, the stubble of his shadow tickling your lips.
"Yes, I concur." You sigh. "That would be amazing."
There's a pregnant pause in the air before you broke it.
"Though, given that we're trying to have a baby... Id prefer it if all your patrols ended this way. With you safe."
"I know, babe." Peter replies quietly.
"I promise I'll be careful."
You smiles and turned your head into his neck, breathing in every scent that is Peter.
You could feel his body tense when you did that,, see that Adams apple bobbing again as he kept his eyes focused directly on the tv, trying to ignore how your fingers slowly crept up under his tank top slowly; nails tickling the soft skin of his abdomen.
You slipped your fingers down, just barely past the waistband of his pj's and his breath stutters.
He wasn't wearing boxers. Perfect. Makes it that much easier.
"Babe--" Peter said, his voice coming out shaky.
"Hmm?" You asked innocently, ever so slowly slipping your hands down further, gliding through the well-trimmed hairs and stopping just above his rapidly hardening dick.
"You--" He groaned, dropping his head back and closing his eyes.
"Me.... What?" You sigh, wrapping your fingers around his cock, feeling the half-hard mass of silky flesh twitch and come to life in your hand
You gave a languid stroke upwards, and back down.
Up, and down.
Up, and down... Working him up to full mast as his breathing increased and a small whimper came from his lips.
"Hey, Pete." You grinned, licking over the thumping pulse in his neck.
"Y-yeah?" He whined.
"Wanna see something you're gonna like?" You asked him, your tone breathy.
"Yes. God, yes--" He gasped, as your thumb swirled over the weeping tip of his dick.
You squeeze his cock again as he says that, just barely above painful.
"Peter..." You scold. "What do you say?"
"Yes, ma'am." He whimpered out quickly, his hands gripping the cushions, knuckles turning white as he grits his teeth.
"That's a good Tiger." You purr, pulling your hand from his pants and swinging yourself over so you were straddling his thighs.
"Eyes open, baby." You cooed, urging him to tip his head so he could stare at you, a little slack-jawed as you slowly undo the buttons of the shirt you wore.
God, that pitiful look he'd get on his face when he was horny always got you going.
When you slipped the last buttons out, you pulled the edges of the shirt open, showing your tits off to him with a smirk.
His gorgeous eyes of course locked in on your breasts first, your pebbling nipples eagerly awaiting touch; but his gaze slipped lower, raking all the way down your body until he saw the underwear you were wearing.
It left very, very little to the imagination. And it did a very, very poor job of concealing how wet you were getting; your slick already seeping through and leaving a dark spot on the dark gray pj's he wore.
You watched his hands twitch and arms move; and instantly you frowned.
"Peter." You say, reaching out and gripping his face with your hand, squishing his cheeks.
"Did I say you could touch me?"
He made a soft noise and dropped his arms.
"No. Keep em up." You order, dragging the tank top he wore slowly up his torso.
He obediently lifted his arms up so you could pull the offending piece of clothing off; and you smiled with satisfaction.
"Good boy." You told him, leaning forward to kiss his lips.
The touch was soft, feather light with the ghost of a promise, one that his mouth chased as you pulled away from him.
He made a weak groan, and you giggle.
"Keep your hands on the back of the couch, you're not allowed to move em until I say so. Got it, baby?"
Peter nodded, doing as he was told and he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and nodding.
"Peter..."
"Yes ma'am." He whispered out.
You smile at him again as your hands greedily paw at him, sliding down his chest and to his belly, softening and round.
"Babe..." Peter groaned, looking off to the side in embarrassment.
It was no secret between you two that he was self conscious of the pooch in his belly, about the softness there. It was why he decided to wear pants over his suit; he didn't like it being on display for everyone.
"Hush," You said to him, gripping softly at his belly, kneading the skin underneath your soft fingers.
"You're adorable. I love your belly. And think of it this way, you've already got a dad bod." You leaned in just a bit, enough to take one of his nipples into your mouth and tugging on it with your teeth.
The sound he made went into your ears and straight to your cunt.
"..And you look good with a dad bod." You assured him with every ounce of love and acceptance you could vocalize.
He shuddered and let out a shaky breath, his eyes fluttering closed as he let you toy with him.
"Now, let's have a bit of fun, okay?" You sighed, positioning yourself so that the bulge in his pants could press tightly against the sopping fabric of your panties, your throbbing clit pressing hard into it.
You were polite and gave Peter a second to breathe, checking to see if his hands were still where you told him to keep them.
They were, and Peter had his head leaned back so you could see the jumping vein in his neck.
You bit your lip and slowly started to grind on him, letting out a soft groan at the friction, each drag of your hips against his throbbing cock smearing your juices along his clothes length, a dark patch starting to form.
God, he looked so utterly fucked already that your mind felt dizzy with how delicious he was sounding.
Soft whimpers and gasps came from Peter as he lifted his hips to meet yours.
You were tempted to scold him, but then again, he was being a good boy.
You plant your hands on his chest, keeping him pressed into the cushions as you continued to hump against his twitching cock, the signs of his precum already soaking through the fabric to join the wet spot of your own slick.
The way he was being so fucking good for you, the sounds he was making, and the little licks of flames that jolted up with each stroke already had you close to wanting to cum. But you held off, instead doubling down, sliding your hips on his even faster than before, mewling softly as he desperately ruts up into you, his jaw clenched so tight you were worried he would crack the bone.
"You're being so good, Tiger." You purr, licking up from his collarbone, to the soft spot on his neck.
You bit down and sucked hard, scratching your nails down his chest as you kept grinding your soaking pussy against him.
You did that four more times, leaving beautiful red-purple marks on his neck.
You feel his hips start to stutter against yours, a deep, heavy groan tearing through his throat.
"You gonna cum for me, baby?" You moan softly.
"Y-yeah." He whined.
"Mmm~" You pull away from him, and he makes a frustrated cry, before going silent as he watched you pull his pants down just enough to free his cock.
His jaw slacks as he watched you pull your panties to the side, and slowly spear yourself on him.
You were so wet and fucking tight, he almost came right there.
You press a finger to his lips as he moaned your name.
"You can cum, but only after me. Got it?"
"Yes ma'am..." He whines.
"Good. Good." You smiled, tapping his lips with your fingers.
"Open."
Peter stares at you, his eyes glazed and pupils dilated as his lips parted, letting you slip your digits in so he could lick around them, sucking them softly and wetting them with his saliva.
You pull them free with a wet pop and bring them down to your clit, using the mix of his spit and your slick to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves.
The way his cock twitched inside of you, the way he struggled so hard to keep still while you used your hand to pleasure yourself while his cock was seated fully into you... God, it was bliss.
"Ah... O-Okay, Tiger." You panted. "Y-you can move. Fuck..."
Peter didn't need another word from you; he began snapping his hips up into yours with a whimper, chasing the orgasm that was a hairs breadth away.
And all at once it was like the world came crashing down. Your orgasm ripped through you and you gushed on Peter's cock, your fingers still working at your clit while he fucked into you, a shaky moan coming from him as he emptied himself into you, snapping his hips up into yours almost mindlessly as the both of you rode out your release.
When the two of you stopped moving, you slowly leaned forward, resting your head on his shoulder, breathing heavily as you tried to control your leaping heart rate.
You felt Peter slip his arms around you and tug you close, and a smirk played on your lips.
"Did I say you could touch me?" You tease.
"No ma'am." Peter grinned.
"Eh, I'll let it slide. This time." You giggle, leaning back to look at him.
God that smile on his face always made your heart flop.
And of course... Another idea came into your mind, biting your lip as you felt his dick twitching inside you.
"Hey, Pete..." You hummed, tracing invisible lines on his chest.
"Yeah?" He asked you.
"Wanna take this to the bedroom? I wanna play a bit more."
Peter looked like he swallowed his tongue right there on the couch.
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Fuck, you loved it when you did this.
You loved the sounds he made, how he'd grip at the sheets and how he'd rock his hips back to meet the thrusts of yours, spearing himself open on the ridged silicone cock you were fucking him with.
"Good boy." You murmured, gripping his ass tight and spreading his cheeks as you glide the toy in and out, in and out.
He wasn't allowed to jerk himself off as you fucked him; that was always the rule.
"You're being quiet again, baby." You cooed, kneading his cheeks with your fingers.
He let out a groan, but it wasn't enough for you.
You wanted more.
And you were going to take more.
You pulled out, almost entirely, watching the rim of muscles clench and try to drag your strap back in.
You hold like that for a minute before Peter makes a needy whine; and the moment he does you slam your hips as hard as you can into him, rocking him forward and making him moan like a whore.
You decided to keep that pace, arching your hips up to reach every spot you memorized inside of him, leaning forward and pressing your palm into the curve of his spine, forcing him down into the bed.
"Thaaaaat's it... that's it." You hissed, biting your lip.
"Gonna cum already?" You teased playfully.
"Y-yes--" He breathed.
You pulled away a bit and bring your hand down on him, slapping his ass, the sound of skin resounding through your bedroom.
"Ah-ah. What do you say?" You say, your tone full of disappointment.
"Yes, ma'am!" He whined loudly, arching back into you as you roughly fucked into him.
"Good boy..." You repeated.
You slid your hand up his spine slowly, earning a pathetic gasp and whimper from him, watching as he ripped at the sheets so hard that the edges came off the corners of your bed; hot ropes of white cum shooting out and staining the silky black sheets as you fucked him.
You pulled out, and unbuckled the harness from around your hips and thighs, tossing the strap-on onto the floor.
Eh, you'd deal with it when you were done.
You laid on your side next to him, smiling sweetly.
"You good, baby?" You asked him softly.
"Agh... Yeah. Shit." Peter mumbled into the pillow.
You grinned and kissed his knuckles as he released his grip on your sheets.
He lifted his gaze and kissed you before you had a chance to react, his tongue pressing into your mouth and tugging at yours, hungry and needy.
He pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your mouths and a glint in his eye.
"Babe, can I..."
"Of course, Tiger." You grinned as he climbed on top of you, gliding his cock through your slick folds.
"We are trying to make a baby, remember? And besides... My legs are tired. You take the lead."
Peter grinned down at you.
"Yes ma'am."
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