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wandasfifthwife · 4 days

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fuck me like you mad at me baby ✩‧₊˚

—> hockey player/coaxh!wanda x fem/afab!reader

tw || SMUT MDNI, top!wanda, bottom!reader, established relationship, strength kink (wanda is stronger than reader), wanda curses, strap in v (r receiving), dirty talk (slightlyy degrading), allusions to overstim, slight fingering (r receiving), mentions of scissoring, they’re horndogs im sorry, not proofread

a/n || can be read as a stand alone, but this is apart of a series, link below. title of the fic is from the song mad at me by sexyy red

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚1.5k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

It was close for a majority of the game, the scoreboard reading only a one point difference. Wanda had been fighting off the other players, you and her both getting fed up with the way they were playing. It was foul, and what was worse was how the ref kept excusing the other team.

The refs actions led to the team taking a hit in the third and final period, the three point difference widening. When the siren blared throughout the arena, the final scores read 2-5. It was a huge loss, one that could’ve been avoided if a different ref were hired.

There was one particular player on the opposing team who’d been calling all the shots, even going as far as slamming Wanda into the screen doors with intent. She had to keep her cool while the game was still active, feeling imprisoned on the ice due to wanting to avoid getting a dirty call.

Now that the game was over, Wanda had been in her face. All of her words were unintelligible, but her tone still carried. Her shouts echoing throughout the arena, the sound of the wall shaking after Wanda had shoved the player into it. The ref still stands in, putting himself between the players and issuing that Wanda gets off the ice.

You’re almost stumbling down the steps, exiting the booth to try and make it to her on time. The locker room was musky, sweat overwhelming your senses when you step in.

Some of her teammates were there as well, not minding you walking in seeing as you’ve become a regular face amongst them.

“Wanda,” you call out her name but she doesn’t look at you. She’s quiet, her anger burning and tearing her up inside. This isn’t the first time she’s lost since you’ve begun dating, you understand how important these games mean to her, but it’s only the second time—meaning, it’s still new to you. Anger and hurt are synonymous, in this current moment you’re unaware of which side she’s on at the moment. Especially after her showdown in the ice. You’re timid, standing behind her as she shoves her stuff into her bag.

“No part of tonight made any fucking sense,” is the first sentence she speaks, the anger still laced in your tone tells you which side she’s on tonight.

“It’s not your fault, the ref was oblivious.”

“No, he was paid. No good ref in their right mind would call a penalty for a basic defensive move,” she doesn’t make an effort to get changed, slipping her jersey back on after removing her protective gear. “And then there’s that other player on the other team, lunging at me and everyone on the ice is keeping their mouth shut.”

You reach a hand out, taking a few of her things, helping her so she can leave sooner like she’s currently trying to. Her bag swings over her shoulder and she’s walking out, you following behind her.

“Would a team so bad as them ever realize how down in the dirt they are? Paying a ref and playing wrong moves to win is shameful,” you add on, earning a small smile from her.

Shes still gentle with you even with the hot anger within her, holding the doors for you and helping you get settled in her car. Her apartments not too far, only being a fifteen minute drive, but each minute is silent. It’s like her mind keeps bringing up what just transpired and it gets her riled up all over again. You thought to respect her space, grabbing what you can quickly to leave her alone to calm down, but that moment you’ve walked through the door everything in your hands clambers onto the ground.

She’s lifting you, hands reaching under your thighs to wrap them around her waist. Her lips are on yours, the force of which she’s using to kiss you pushes your head into the wall behind you. You’re melting in her hold, legs turning into jelly, you entirely trust that she won’t drop you. She kisses you until your lungs are burning, lips red from her teeth biting down.

“Wands,” you say, your voice coming out dry and scratchy. She hums, nose trailing down your neck as she’s maneuvering you onto her couch. Hands overcome your hip, turning you over onto your hands and knees.

“Push back against my hand,” she hums again when you do, ass pressing against the hand she’s splayed against your lower back.

“At any point if you need to stop, tell me, understand?”

You nod, cheek brushing against her throw pillow. She’s sliding your pants off, helping you so she’s able to toss them somewhere. Her fingers slide through your folds, feeling the wetness gathered there.

“You’re so wet, beautiful. Why’s this?”

You gasp when one presses in, curling downwards to press at the spot she knows makes you writhe.

“You.”

“Did seeing me get all angry turn you on?”

She slides another in, scissoring you open for her. You’re already a mess, thighs shaking as you grind back on her fingers in search for more. Her hand grips your waist, stopping your movements entirely.

“I bet you wished I threw you around like that,” she wipes her fingers on your thigh, “all I did was pick you up and you’re dripping.”

You gasp when you feel the tip rub at your entrance, hands gripping onto the pillow below you. She doesn’t give any warning, pressing each inch in until her hips meet yours. You’ve gone quiet, mouth ajar as you try to breathe normally. The length of her strap kept pushing and spreading you open with each thrust.

Your face is buried into the couch, moans tumbling from your mouth at an embarrassing pace. Each time she enters into you, it pulls a pitched ah from you. Her aggression from earlier still present, the way she’s pulling your hips back into her is unlike any way pace shes taken you before. It’s overwhelming, your body going lax to try and compensate with the pleasure overwhelming you.

She’s twisting you, hands on your thighs to pull you back down onto her length. You whine, hands reaching around her neck you can dig your nails into her back. You’re transfixed on where she’s connected to you. A thin layer of sweat on her body, dripping down onto her constructing abs. She’s seen your entire body, but what makes you blush the most is how muscular she is. Arms flexing around your body when she hugs you, and even now with her toned abs. She knows, using her strength at any chance after seeing how shy you get.

“Ah, please, please don’t stop,” you beg, reestablishing your hold on her back, “please it’s so good.”

Her expressions grown soft as she looks down at you as it usually does. She tilts your thigh, opening you wider so she can thrust even deeper if possible. You whimper, throwing your head back.

“Are you going to come,” she asks, sucking in a breath. The finger she has rubbing your clit slips down to feel how tight you’re wrapped around her.

“Yes, yes, please don’t—“

She’s kissing you into the couch, taking your breath away. You’re holding her face with your hands, breaking often to gasp when she hits that spot. She’s incredibly sensitive, holding back her own moans every time the strap pressed against her clit with each thrust. Seeing just how affected you are, all form her doing is intoxicating.

You break from her kiss, gasping when you come. Her lips are hovering over yours, heavy eyes focused on your shut ones. She’s slowed her pace, pressing gentle kisses over your face. You’re both glistening, her large windows allow the moonlight in, causing it to reflect off of your bodies.

“We need to shower,” you suggest, wincing when she accidentally presses further in. She apologizes, moving slow when she pulls out to avoid overstimulating you.

“We do,” she agrees, looking around to find her jersey lying on the coffee table, “and laundry.”

When she looks back to you, you’re folding, bringing her down to kiss her gently. Your lips are bitten, slightly swollen in the corner where Wanda had bit you earlier. Hers are chapped from the cold, red from how rough she had been pressing them against yours.

Despite this, you’re wrapping your arms around her back, gasping when she’s biting the other corner of your lip. Her body’s sliding against yours, sensitivity through the roof with how long she’s been holding out.

It’s heated again. You’re desperate for her touch and she’s desperate to touch you, hands sliding down your body. No words are spoken, your body language says enough. She’s picking you up with ease, bringing you to her bed where she splits your thighs open for her to rub her cunt along yours, growing weak at how breathless it makes you. Hands pulling at the sheets, pleas leaving your lips. It doesn’t end, continuing until the clock read 2:50.

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚ 1.5k words˚ ╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

*please tell me you got the reference of 2-5 score and then the 2:50 time on the clock*

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johnlockdynamic · 1 year

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having to contend with the uncomfortable fact that I may have coach issues

#unlike daddy and mommy issues……#crave validation from athletic leadership which is why I uh. eat up gymcrush’s Personal Trainer TM compliments #idk growing up I had a lot of coaches and felt pretty invisible despite being very dedicated….

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flkwh0re · 1 month

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Team Player

Pairing: Step-mom! Wanda Maximoff x Coach! Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Age gap (Legal), Step-mom/Step-daughter relationship, Coach/Player relationship, Cheating, Manipulation(??), Threesome, Mommy Kink (W), Degrading, Spitting, Cum play(??), Fingering, Oral, Dom/Dom/Sub dynamic, Natasha has a penis, Unprotected sex, Brief breeding kink, Face riding

A/n: Love this dynamic, very odd unusual pairing tho 😭

Word count: 1,568

Today was the day of your final game of your college teams basketball game. You anxiously waited around for your dad to show, knowing he’d probably not. He always had some excuse like being busy at work, or having made plans already.

That was never the case though, it was always the fact that he was just pure lazy and didn’t give two fucks about you and the stuff you did.

It hurt you, it hurt you badly. Your step mom, Wanda, on the other hand was amazing. Stepping up to take his place any moment she could. You honestly didn’t believe how the woman married that man, but little did you know she only stayed for you.

Wanda had developed a small crush on you, then it grew. Anytime she watched one of your games, she’d have an aching throb between her thighs. Watching your skilled body move around the court, the sweat dripping down your body. The tone in your voice as you yelled at your teammates, trying to get their attention. You truly were the mvp of the team, and everyone adored you.

As you stood around by the door waiting for him, one of your teammates informed you that your couch wanted you in the locker room. You huffed and began to walk away from the entrance, until the door flew open. You craned your head around and there stood Wanda.

“Oh my god Wanda you made it!” You yelped as your arms flew around her body, your taller figure towering her. “I couldn’t miss my favorite girls final game, now could I?” She chuckled, earning a giggling and smile from you.

“I’d walk you to the gymnasium, but coach wants me. Plus the game starts soon, so I’ll see you after?” You asked. “Why don’t I come with you? I have something I wanna try on you.” She hummed, to which you shuddered and nodded with confusion.

What could she possibly want to try, were your thoughts while you two walked to the locker room. Her hand resting on your back, almost too close to your ass.

Once the two of you reached the locker room, you guided her into where your coach was. “Coach Romanoff?” You asked, the older woman turning around. “Oh hello Y/n, I needed to discuss some things with you before the game. Who’s this?” Natasha pointed to Wanda.

“Oh this is Wanda, my step-mom.” Wanda extended her hand to Natasha. “Nice to meet you..?” Wanda paused, “Natasha.” She responded. Wanda nodded, “Nice to meet you Natasha.” Natasha nodded and took her hand, “Like wise.”

After a while of Natasha discussing game plans with you, Wanda’s hands rested on your shoulders. Massaging the tense muscles. “Detka, you’re so tense. What’s wrong?” She quipped, and you nervously eyed the two women. “I- just nervous I guess.”

You lied as well as you could, you knew it wasn’t believable thought. It was hard to hide the fact you had a massive crush on your step-mom, alone with your coach. You knew it was wrong, all so very wrong.

Natasha and you messed around a couple times, quickly shutting it down when you two were almost caught by one of your teammates. You didn’t know that Wanda knew though.

She had caught you texting her multiple times about non-basketball related things, but chose not to say anything. She did feel rather protective of you, which is why she insisted on coming with you to see Nat before the game.

Wanda hummed, then glanced up at Natasha. “I know that’s not the reason, it’s because your step-mom’s hands are rubbing across your muscles and your filthy coach keeps eyeing you. Such a dirty girl you are.”

A gasp escaped your lips, Natasha eyes painfully trained on Wanda. “What do you mean by that, Wanda?” She asked sternly, her teeth gritted.

“Oh don’t act like a fool, I know that you know you get Y/n here to whore herself out to you.” Another gasped came from you, Wanda’s fingers found your lips and pushed past them.

“Hush you little slut, don’t you act surprised either.” Whimpers escaped your lips, a groan erupted from Natasha. Wanda laughed darkly, her fingers toying with your mouth.

“Why don’t we help you out before the game? We can’t have you this tense before the game, it is the final after all.” Wanda suggested, and Natasha thought for a second before agreeing.

Wanda retracted her fingers from your mouth, earning a whine from you. Her hands slide down to the hem of your jersey, pulling it over your head followed by your bra.

Her long fingers tugged at your perky nipples, using your spit that lingered on her fingers to wet them. Wanda looked up at Natasha, “Don’t just stand there, get over here.” Natasha hurriedly walked over to the bench, sitting down next to you.

Her lips attach to your nipple, biting and sucking. As she did this, Wanda’s hands worked at your tense arms and shoulders. It drove you crazy having your step-mom standing behind you, while your coach was latched to your nipple.

Natasha’s hands wandered across your stomach, tracing your abs. Her hand then slipped past the hem of your basketball shorts, teasing your clit through your soaked panties. Her mouth left your tit, capturing your lips.

Her tongue tangled with yours, and you were so caught up in the kiss you hadn’t noticed Wanda moving to sit on the opposite side of you. Wanda watched the two of you as Nat pumped her fingers into your pussy, and your tongues dancing with one another. She also hadn’t failed to realize the prominent bulge in Nat’s pants.

She kneeled down in front of Natasha, unbuckling her belt and tugging her pants down. Wanda’s hand rubbed Natasha through her boxers, causing her to groan into your mouth.

Wanda pulled her boxers down, her cock springing free from its restraints. Wanda admired the woman’s size, her hands pumped at Natasha cock a few times. Her tip leaked with pre-cum.

Wanda’s lips wrapped around the coach’s cock, sheathing her cock down her throat. The sight of Wanda sucking off your coach quickened the arrival of your orgasm. Nat removed her hands from your panties, making a show of her cleaning them off. Even having Wanda lick your arousal off them.

“C’mon baby, come help mommy suck your coach’s cock.” Wanda suggested, as she grabbed your hand leading you to kneel in front of Natasha. Your tongue ran down Natasha’s dick, as so did Wanda’s.

You both took turns sucking her off, but Natasha was most fond of the way Wanda pumped the base of her cock and sucked her balls, while you sucked the tip of her cock.

With one final squeeze at the base of her cock, Natasha’s cum spurted into your mouth, you taking everything she gave. “Open your mouth, let me see her cum in your mouth.” Wanda demanded, so you stuck your tongue out. “Spit it into my mouth.”

You complied, trying your best to spit Nat’s cum into her mouth. Once you did, Wanda’s lips latched to yours. Your lips moved hungry against each other, cum dripping down both of your mouths.

Natasha pulled you to your feet, pulling off your pants and panties then, onto her lap. Giving you a searing kiss on the lips. Wanda took hold of Natasha’s cock, guiding it to your pussy. As you sunk down on Natasha, you whined at her size.

She began to bounce you on her cock, while Wanda took your hand and guided you to her pussy. Natasha lips suckled at your nipples, her fingers dug into your hips. You tried your best to finger Wanda as well as possible, but Nat’s erratic pace made all thoughts in your head disappear.

“M’ gonna breed this little pussy.” Natasha husked against your chest, throwing all abilities to think out the door. “Here, come eat mommy out while Natasha fucks you.” Wanda spoke up, aching for her own release.

Natasha helped you lay down, spreading her legs and shoving her cock back into you. Wanda straddled your face, her pussy hovered over your mouth. Your tongue flattened out past your lips, and Wanda began using your tongue to get off.

Wanda and Natasha shared a kiss as they both used you to get them own orgasms. Wanda furiously rode your face, while Natasha’s pace became unsteady. Her cock twitched, then her cum spilt from her cock. Yours and Wanda’s orgasms following quickly behind.

You lapped at Wanda’s pussy, drinking up all of her arousal. Nat pulled her cock out of you, your hole clenching around nothing. You whine at the empty feeling. “Hush baby, you gotta get out of here quickly. The game is about to start.” Natasha said.

Wanda quickly hopped of your face, then helped you collect your clothing and redress. She pressed a quick kiss on your lips. “You do good out there and I’ll reward you later on. Okay?” She whispered in your ear and you nodded, then she sent you on your way.

“What did you say to her?” Natasha asked as her eyebrow cocked. “Don’t worry about it coach, you better get out there too.” Wanda teased, and they both slipped back into their clothes.

Your team winded up winning the game, and Wanda kept her promise. Natasha also followed along.

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bunny584 · 2 months

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OBSESSED: ITADORI

A/N: Quarterback Itadori with #20 on his jersey realizes he has a little (big) problem with a certain cheerleader turned Chem tutor (who also happens to be just a little bit older 🤭). Anon this one is for you! I hope you enjoy 💋

S/N: I’ve never giggled so much writing a piece. This one was so funny to me.

C/W: Aged up characters (19+), college AU, Mature, 18+

“ITADORI!”

Oh for fucks sake.

Yuji can’t drag away from the pyramid of cheerleaders right of center field.

“Coach?”

“IF YOU WANT TO WEAR A SKIRT AND BACKFLIP FOR THE BOYS THEN JUST SAY THAT?!”

His teammates erupt in a chorus of laughter. Coach Yaga is an ass.

Fact.

But he is also living, breathing, comedic relief.

“I would coach, but they aren’t my type!”

Yuji yells back, eyes still lasered to your back. He knows it’ll sear Yaga’s skin right off the bone.

Whatever.

What’s a few more seconds, right?

You are just so…hot.

In a mind-bending kinda way. An optical illusion. Or desert mirage.

A fresh water oasis in a destitute wasteland. Always just a few more steps away. No matter how long he’s been crawling on his knees.

His knees.

He’d kill to be on his knees for you. Diving head first into—

“SHUT THE HELL UP AND GET BACK ON THE FIELD. PINK TOP IDIOT!!”

“Yes sir!” Times up.

“Dude, she’s a smoke show.”

The team’s starting running back (#14) rests his arm on Yuji’s shoulder. Just as four bodies fling you so far against gravity it is questionable whether you’ll come down.

“She’s perfect.”

“And a junior.” #14 reminds him, tugging his helmet back over his head.

“So?”

“Okay, freshmeat. Someone’s got mommy issues.”

Yuji bursts into full belly laughter. Stealing one last glance at you before pulling his helmet on.

His teammates never fail to remind him that he’s the only freshman in Tokyo University history to make starting lineup.

Not to mention quarterback.

“#14, #20 IF YOU DONT STOP RUBBING DICKS ILL WEAR BOTH OF YOUR ASSES TO THE BONE THIS AFTERNOON.”

Yuji promptly takes position at center field. He knows better than to push his luck. Two-a-days are already brutal enough, he has no intention of making his life harder than it is.

But you do.

You are setting flames to the hoops Yuji has to jump through to get through study hall and afternoon practice.

Why else would you wear those yoga pants?

They’re a second skin, for Christ’s sake.

Might as well be body paint. Outlining every tantalizing, serpentine curve. Pretty, full hips. Plump, tight ass. The mouthwatering, puffy rose between your legs just begging to be watered. By his tongue.

Yuji’s palm digs into his crotch. Trying to force his pulsating length from tenting up into the table. Cursing himself for changing out of his compression shorts.

“Hello? Yuji?”

Your dulcet voice echoes between his ears and curls around his dick. Jerking him back down to earth.

“Y-yeah? Hi.”

Yuji forces an acknowledgement through the sharp edges of his voice box. Sitting fully erect in his seat. Scrambling to find the pencil that was supposed to be mirroring your work on the whiteboard.

Because not only are you a perfect 10 on and off the field; you are a prodigy when it comes to chemistry.

And currently in the middle of trying to diffuse some of your excess knowledge into his very deficient head.

You toss your head back. Your laughter is definitely why tales of fishermen being lost at sea exists.

Light.

Breathy.

Soprano crescendo that’s rutting against the few folds in his brain.

“Why are you so distracted today, Yu?”

“Distracted?” His voice cracks.

“Ha—no, I’m not distracted. Sorry, walk me through it again.”

But before Yuji can retreat back into his daydream, you catch him in the Venus fly trap of your gaze. Tilting your head slightly.

Yuji swallows thickly. Frozen in place. Hand pushing down on his cock with all his might. As if you could see through the table.

Did you know he was staring at your ass? Can you tell how hard he is? Is there drool on his face? Shit, there must—

“Woah, the way the sun is catching your eyes right now, Yu.”

You take a half step to the side, allowing the full beam of light to caress Yuji’s already hot face.

A shaky hand swipes along the back of his neck.

“H-huh?”

“Your eyes are so pretty. Warm. Like hot chocolate with cinnamon.”

Your full lips curl into a soft smile. And Yuji bites down a pitiful whine.

“I—thanks.” You don’t hear him. Because he whispers through a wired shut jaw.

Yuji lets his erection tent up, grazing the table. He fists his base through his athletic pants. Ears fiery hot with embarrassment. His hand glides up and down his clothed cock without his permission.

Did you know?

That you snapped his self-control in half?

And shoved him into the darkest recesses of his mind?

Where his most depraved thoughts (and the King of Curses) lives?

Because all Yuji can see is the way your ass ripples and bounces while you scribble hieroglyphics on the whiteboard.

His mind’s eye is currently picturing him fucking you dumber than he is.

Fist full of hair in one hand. Both of your wrists behind your back in another. Mesmerized by the way your plump, fleshy mounds slam against his hips.

Maybe he’ll fuck you in front of a mirror?

So he can make you repeat how pretty you think his eyes are while he brands the shape of his cock into you.

Then he’ll tell you how pretty you are. Creaming all around his length. Drool raining down from your lips in sync with his thrusts.

Maybe he’ll stick a dildo on the mirror so he can watch your mouth get stuffed while he violates your insides?

You’ll look so pretty. When he fills you up with something warm. A little thicker than ‘hot chocolate with cinnamon.’

“Yu? Are you okay?” Genuine concern knocks his lust-drunk thoughts loose.

Yuji blinks himself back to this dimension. Chest heaving. Cramps blooming from his fingertips to his biceps from grasping his sex so hard. He doesn’t need a mirror to know he’s stained blood red. From chin to hairline.

“I-uh. Sick. I’m—I feel sick. Be right back.” He takes off to the male locker room at inhuman speed.

Yuji nearly doubles over the porcelain sink, glaring at his blown out pupils. Olive skin flushed like he just finished a marathon.

He can’t believe he was just groping himself like that in public. In plain sight.

All because you complimented his eyes?!

Who the hell is he?

“Sukuna, give it a rest.”

Yuji hisses poison at his curse. Because he surely wasnt responsible for those lewd actions.

“Oh, I’ll rest you PERMANENTLY you asinine little b—“

“I’m serious. Quit it.”

Yuji darts around the empty locker room. Accidentally raising his voice.

“Quit what, brat?”

“Quit…making me think..things like that.”

Sukuna’s bellowing laughter sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Deafening between Yuji’s ears.

“That’s all you kid. I’m only 10 fingers in. Don’t have that power…yet.”

Sukuna retreats to Yuji’s subconscious. Leaving him stunned. Disbelief crashing into him like tornado winds.

Yuji has never been a pervert.

Sure, he’s had crushes. But he knows how to control his impulses.

He might be dumb like one, but he’s not an actual dog…right?

Wrong.

Yuji dives into an empty stall while his teammates file in. Study hall is complete and afternoon warm-ups are starting soon.

And his neglected, weeping sex is clamoring for attention.

Missing it’s muse — your soft, curvy frame and the ways he wants to fill you.

One hand clamps over his mouth. While the other one tugs his pants down. Thick, heavy length springing free. Sticky and slick with his precum.

His head meets the cool wall. Hips thrusting against his fist. Broken whimpers pushing through the web spaces of his fingers that are digging into his cheek. Choking himself quiet so no one hears his pathetic hormone driven state.

“Mnnhgh f—fuck.” Muffled curses slip past his hand.

His cock is red and engorged. Angry from his abuse. But his hips can’t stop rutting into his hand. Picturing abusing your pretty, swollen cunt.

A hot tear rolls along his cheek, between his fingers. Salty on his tongue.

Curtains start to shade his vision and Yuji’s hands move to cup his bulbous tip. His muscular core tenses and strings of warm, thick seed fills his hands.

The world slowly starts to piece together. His heart rattling in its cage comes to a normal pace. Choppy, incomplete breaths gradually replaced with deep, relaxed ones.

Shit.

He’s in trouble.

Because he needs to pass chemistry to play football. And he needs you to pass.

But he can’t ever look you in the eye again after this display.

After one measly compliment.

How will he act if you bend over in front of him?

Or lean over a little too far?

God forbid you touch his arms or brush against him.?

Then a lightbulb goes off.

Yuji has the perfect solution.

He scrambles to clean up. Putting on his street clothes. Ignoring the quizzical looks from his teammates. He’s going to fix his little problem.

“Coach Yaga?” Yuji is met with an open office door and his coach’s nostrils flaring. Vein along his temple pulsing.

He draws in a steadying breath.

“I can’t play football anymore coach. I quit.”

“….YOU WHAT?!?!”

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glitterboy03 · 1 year

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finally bought a strap harness so I can top my partner wehoo

#im a bottom thru and thru but i did get a little excited about me (5'4 and weak) topping her (6'7 and stronf as hell)#shes gonna do her whole mommy dommy shit too. coach me thru the whole thing and be all sweet in a condescending way #im very hyped #lesgoo

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thoughtsoftrash · 4 months

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Anne Hathaway be my mommy

#mom #mommy #anne hathaway #coaching #celebs #tmz #turnt #not gay #act #acting #actually #autistic #literally

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 3 months

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Thinking about Jealous Baby daddy! Miguel O'Hara who seems grumpier during the next custody swap the following week. A permanent scowl etched on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest while leaning against his car. Only answer in a grumble when you asked what’s wrong, wanting to see if you’d mentioned anything about the date you went on, acting as if he didn’t know about it. You didn’t.

Jealous baby daddy!Miguel starts to probe any info about your new suiter from Gabriella whenever he can during his weeks with her, wanting to see if it was only a fling or if it had any potential to turn into something serious. Huffing when his daughter starts to tease him about it when she notices he starts to be asking about it too often, denying her claims of him “having a crush” on mommy again, him trying to defend himself to the 10 year old by saying he only wanted to make sure that the guy wasn’t a jerk.

It didn’t matter if he was the nicest man on earth though, Miguel wasn’t gonna like him either way.

Jealous baby daddy!Miguel who finally cracked and “casually” mentioned to you that Gabi has been making comments about you seeing someone as of recently during one of her games and “accidentally” forgot to mention that he’s been basically interrogating your girl about him. Purposely leaning in a bit closer as he whispered into your ear while you both sat on the metal bleachers, fighting off an oncoming smirk from his lips when he noticed your shoulders tensing up and your cheeks growing warmer even if your eyes stayed on the field.

Jealous baby daddy!Miguel who purposely starts to get more touchy. Not in an inappropriate way, but in a smaller strategic way. Letting his fingertips linger a second too long against yours when he hands you Gabriella’s school bag, his thighs brushing against yours the whole time during a soccer game. Small things that he can dismiss if you try to confront him by saying you’re being silly, but he knows that it driving you crazy.

Jealous baby daddy!Miguel who suddenly starts sending you photos of you both in college when you were both dating before you had Gabi, saying he “stumbled across it” while cleaning.

—

“Okay, go get ready for bed, amor.” (Sweetie.)

“Si mami!” (Yes mom!)”

As the pitter patter of Gabriella’s blue crocs make their way over to the bathroom, you got up and off the couch to tidy up the mess of Barbies off from your living room carpet floor. While putting away the skipper doll back in the toy bin, you heard your phone vibrate on the couch, quickly placing it in the bin before standing up straight and dusting your hands off to go see who texted you, expecting it to be the guy you're talking to.

To your surprise though, Miguel’s name was popping up instead, with a raised brow you go to open the message. Your face of mild confusion turns into one of a small look of nostalgia.

“Look what I found while cleaning up my computer storage.” Was the message that accompanied the photo, you and Miguel, around 19 you’d like to say, in a candid shot one of your friends took of you both, you playfully smuggling some ice cream on the side of his cheek while you both laugh.

“Mom! I’m ready!” Your daughter’s sudden call quickly took you out of your state of reminiscing, snapping you back to present time. Telling her you’d be right up as you close your phone and placed it back on the coach, but not before liking the message.

—

Part 1<

Part 3<

Not proofread

Word count: 600

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