#elle mumbles

[ellecdc]

Barty Headcanon

okay I've just thought of a new headcanon for Barty (at least over here on ellecdc)

Barty is a polyglot (fluent in many languages), like this dude just knows a bunch of languages.

I don't think a lot of people realize this or know it about him - he doesn't brag/flaunt it but it comes out in the funniest moments.

Reg will be flirting with his partner in French in front of Barty and he'll dramatically gag and tell them to get a room (in perfect French) and everyone's just like????? pardon?

I think he'd know like, dead languages/source languages too

he'd know all the Latin languages (Latin, French, Italian, Spanish), German, Russian, Scandinavian languages (one of my favourite irl things is that someone from Sweden and someone from Denmark can speak to each other in their native languages and more or less completely understand each other lollll), Mandarin, Greek, casually reads Sanskrit texts in his free time

A guy who can casually get all 12 O.W.L's in third year (at thirteen!) would absolutely casually learn languages in his spare time - in fact, I think learning languages would come quite easily to someone like him (he's too smart and get's bored easily and acts out, but languages are difficult and he can fully commit himself to it)

anyways, there ya go lol

[2manyfandoms2count]

That moment when you're half awake and come across "reality TV" during a mindless scroll, and try to remember how the song goes, on which album it was, and when it released

[hanafubukki]

What if the Chairman was Levan Draconia?

I was talking with Ell (@memoryoflife) about the theories of Crowley being Levan Draconia and all the symbolisms you can find in NRC with their similarities in structure to Briar Valley and the Fortress looking the same as the coliseum.

Then we starting talking about how this is Yana we are talking about. Would she make it so obvious that Crowley is Leavan? What if she was using Dire Crowley as a distraction. The truth subtly hidden among the clues? Thank you @prince-kallisto (our Crowley Connoisseur) for helping me find the scene where the chairman is mentioned.

So that got me thinking more, wasn't there a moment in which Crowley mentions a superior? And he very nonchalantly mentioned the Chairman as well, but why? Knowing how any little detail in this game can be a clue to the future books/revelations (History lessons, events, etc.), I can't help but wonder if this was one as well.

Because why suddenly mention the chairman, why not just introduce himself? So what if Levan was the chairman? Most, if not all, of the clues pointing towards Crowley being Levan can be used on the Chairman as well.

Now what do we know about Levan Draconia? He is the Left General, Meleanor's husband, he saved Lilia's NRC letter, he went missing on a diplomatic mission, and he wanted to strengthen relations between the humans and fae.

Additionally, he taught the fae the human language so they can communicate better. He seems the more level headed and future thinking of the three childhood friends. Thank you Mumble for going over Levan info with me (@irafuwas).

Knowing this, it would make sense if the Chairman was Levan Draconia.

It would explain the similarities in the symbolisms/fashion with see with Briar Valley, what if it was the Chairman who decorated/influenced it?

As Ell pointed out, it would be a strategic way to have Crowley to continue being in the game and have merch as well, especially if he was a pawn from the beginning.

This would also explain why Crowley is constantly looking for the Blot stones, and why in every book, he has someway/somehow influenced the OBs.

Because someone was telling him behind the scenes what to do and what to look out for, and with Levan's future thinking, this would fit.

This would also explain why Lilia does not recognize Crowley if Crowley was Levan because he isn’t.

(unless they are fraternal twins, that's why they dont look alike. It would explain the whole "why is he here?' line in history lessons too)

When I think about this, it makes me wonder even more. You know? Why such a offhand comment, unless there's a story element for it?

Levan being a Chairman would also explain him teaching the fae the human language because of his future-esque thinking.

Why he also saved Lilia's NRC letter because he knew what will happen in the future and who will play such roles.

Now this brings into question about Levan's Unique magic, what if his was opposite's of Lilia's?

Lilia's UM looks into the past/memories, so what if Levan's looks into the future? This is why he cared about the relationship between human and faes, why he saved the letter, etc.?

But then you can't help but wonder, where does Meleanor play a role in this? Did she know? What is her UM?

Did she sacrifice herself knowing this future? And that's why she was so confident about Lilia and Malleus?

Was she somehow saved?

And then we think about Levan, and if he is alive and knew the events, did he really let his wife die?

Let his friend live with the trauma of his disappearance, also take the risk of his child never being born and growing up so restricted?

Was this why Meleanor gave the "blessing' she did to Malleus?

(What if they knew about the events with Grim, was this their way of making Grim into a chimera? or maybe, just maybe, stop Grim?

because they saw all the people that Malleus and Lilia loved, and they wanted to save them?)

Wether Levan is alive or dead, the results will be devastating when we find out what happened to him.

[mchmmbls]

time to start re-watching haikyuu

[soggypotatoes]

since sunday i was like ‘i must tell my therapist abt this thing’ and then the minute i was actually in therapy i was like. no actually i will not tell her. this will be my secret

then 3/4 of the way thru the therapy session she guessed it and said it for me and i was half ‘oh thank god’ half very annoyed that she would just see through me like that lmao

[bunny-xoxo]

touya getting far too high with you until he’s so needy for you he can’t help but ask with tears in his eyes and a wobbly bottom lip to make him feel good

[benevolentbones]

newcomer | spencer reid x fem!reader

part 2

warnings: derek being derek.

word count: 0.5k ish

summary: you come to the bau to drop off some things

pls pls pls send any requests you have, im itching to write more but need plot suggestions!!

“who’s that?” quizzed elle.

all eyes were on the new face that stood at the door by the bullpen. you stood there, a binder wrapped tightly in one arm, and a brown paper bag clutched in the other. a black pencil skirt adorned your form complemented with a white button up. you stood there with you hair pushed neatly away from your face, your eyes scanning the room for something.

“i’ve never seen her before- is she new?” jj tilted her head slightly.

“i don’t know but she looks good.” morgan chuckled to himself earning a dig from elle.

“leave her alone she looks like a baby.” elle frowned.

spencer who had his head in a book until now, scanned the room, his hazel gaze fixing on you. there was something familiar about you that he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“she looks around my age.” reid muttered, joining the rest of the team in studying the newcomer.

“exactly. a baby.” elle smirked at spencer’s defeated expression.

spencer shook his head, earning a pat on the shoulder from derek.

you scanned the room once more, suddenly growing nervous when you spot several sets of eyes on you. you inhaled sharply, shuffling over to the group of profilers in hopes they would direct you to where you needed to go.

“she’s coming-act natural.” morgan practically smacked spencer, quickly sitting up straight from his previous slumped position next to the young genius.

“excuse me- would any of you know where jason gideon’s office is?” you smiled politely, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

your eyes met spencer’s and a light blush dusted over your cheeks.

“just up- up those stairs and to the right.” spencer internally cursed as he stuttered out directions.

“thank you so much.” you gave him another shy smile, nodding to the others before you turned, sauntering away to gideon’s office.

“real smooth, pretty boy.” derek shot spencer a shit eating grin, the older man slinging an arm around the blushing mess that was dr. spencer reid.

a few minutes later, everyone had gotten back to their respective reports, spencer was scribbling away at lightning speed, his interaction with you playing in the back of his mind.

over the low mumbling throughout the bullpen, the door to gideon’s office could be heard shutting. the special agent walking down the steps with you in tow. you were making quiet conversation, the binder and paper bag once in your grasp was gone.

derek leaned over spencer’s desk, all eyes were yet again on you.

you and gideon came to an abrupt stop right by where everyone was congregating.

“thanks again for dropping my lunch, sweetie.” gideon gave you a warm smile before giving you a quick hug which you returned gratefully.

“sweetie?” jj blinked.

“well if i’m too old for her then he certainly is-“ derek was cut off by a stack of case files being dropped onto his desk by none other than aaron hotchner.

“no problem, i’ll see you at home.” you gave gideon another smile before walking away, your eyes meeting spencer’s once more before you left causing his cheeks to burn up.

“that’s his daughter.” hotch scoffed, shaking his head as he walked off.

“daughter?!”

[mariasont]

My Boss Won't Be Happy About This - A.H

a/n: back to bimbo brain rot!!!! inspired by the first season that one episode (you know the one) where hotch is all macho man with elle in jamaica

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: you’re wrongfully arrested and hotch is not happy about it

warnings: creepy officer, inaccuracies of how law enforcement works, hotch being sexy

wc: 1.3k

"Listen I'm not the type of girl to tell someone how to do their job, but I just don't think you're doing it right."

You were speaking to an empty room, or at least, you were speaking to the mirror in front of you. It's the kind of mirror you had seen in countless interrogation scenes, the kind you usually image Hotch standing behind. You let your gaze linger, wondering if eyes are studying you from the other side, listening to your monologue.

"Well, that, and I also just don't think it's very nice." Your brand spanking new heels were tapping against the dirty floor. 

You weren't happy about that. You weren't happy about any of this. Your feet ache, but the fear of the germs lurking on the floor paralyzes any thoughts of relief by removing your shoes.

"And hey, shouldn't I get a phone call? That's a rule, I think," you mumble, lips turning downward in an unusual frown. It seems like the right time for it. "My boss is not going to take this well. I mean, he's got this look, you know? The kind that makes you want to apologize for things you didn't even do."

You conjured up his daunting expression and released a jittery laugh, all while striving to disregard the biting cold blasting from the AC vent, which seemed determine to freeze you into place. 

You were seriously out of your element, not just in surroundings but in dress--so form-fitting it left very little to the imagination. It seemed to be a good idea for a date. That was before you realized said date would be a complete disaster. Now, it felt like a trap. It had been a spectacle for a man unworthy of the effort, and as you sat in this rigid chair, you found yourself tugging at the hem every other moment, a futile attempt to preserve some semblance of modesty.

"So, when he hears about this little error... Well, let's just say I wouldn't want to be in your shoes." Six hours had passed in this dreary space, and you could feel your sanity fraying at the edges. You muttered, half to yourself, "Not that they're as cute as mine, but you get the point."

The door hinge's creak made you sit bolt upright, a silent supplication for Hotch's rescue echoing through your mind. But today, it seemed, the gods were indifferent. The officer who had arrested you stepped in.

"Having fun talking to yourself?"

You flashed your sweetest smile. "Oh, tons! But I'd have much more fun if you'd uncuff me."

He said nothing, folding his arms over his chest as he dragged his gaze up and down your body in a way that made your skin prickle in discomfort. You attempted to dispel the creeping dread, but it stubbornly lingered.

You did what you could to cover up, despite the awkward angle of your arms. "Listen, this is all just a big mistake. I work for the FBI," you insisted, though it was clear the officer's attention was fixated on your tits rather than your words. "Well, I mean, I'm an assistant for the unit chief of the BAU unit. You've heard of Aaron Hotchner, haven't you?"

The officer's mouth closed without a word, as the door was thrust open yet again, and this time, your heart leapt in recognition. Your knight in shining armor with a lethal expression.

His eyes instantly zeroed in on the officer with a look that could curdle blood, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that you weren't the object of his anger. He approached you wordlessly, his every motion precise and determined.

He carefully shed his jacket, a gesture he seldom made, and draped it across your shoulders. The fleeting caress of his hand against your skin was enough to make you lean into his touch. You let out a breath that you had been unconsciously holding back. 

You watched as Hotch turned, his voice a low, steady force, his words carefully chosen and tinged with an unsettling peace. "Officer," he began, the title spoken almost as warning. "I believe there has been a grave misunderstanding. This woman is not only an esteemed member of the FBI, but she is also under my direct supervision."

He stepped closer, encroaching on the officer's personal space. You watched, almost in slow motion, as the officer's expression morphed into one of sheer terror, his earlier confidence dissolving like sugar in hot tea.

"Six hours," he continued, his voice never rising yet somehow it took up all the space in the confined room. "Six hours of unwarranted detention, without due process. I expect her immediate release. And make no mistake, this lapse in judgment will have its ramifications."

The officer was mute, his fingers clumsily unlocking the handcuffs, his movements hurried, his hands trembling. A twinge of pity flickered within you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the memory of considering the table as a makeshift blanket.

The moment the metal clicked open; you wasted no time. You flung your arms around Hotch, the pent relief and biting chill of the past few hours pouring out of you. You were desperate for warmth, specifically his warmth.

He stiffened, caught off guard by your actions. You feel the anger radiating through him, practically pulsing through his skin. As you clung to him, you felt the draft on your legs as your dress slid up, and without missing a beat Hotch's hand discreetly adjusted the fabric, all while keeping his eyes locked on the officer, a silent warning in his gaze.

Once he was certain you were decently covered, he allowed himself to draw him into his arms. One arm secured around your waist, the other weaving through your hair. You were cold. It renewed another tide of rage through his bloodstream.

With the officer's departure, the room's oppressive atmosphere lightened a touch, leaving you still latched onto your boss.

"Oh, sir, you wouldn't believe it," you started, his hands tracing up your spine and sparking a trail of goosebumps that had nothing to do with the chill. "They kept asking me about a heist, as if I'd know anything about that! And then they show me this picture, and I mean, sure, she had my hair, but that's about it."

You rambled on, and he let you, the absurdity of the situation pouring out in a stream of consciousness. Hotch's hold on you tightened. You could sense the coiled tension in him, a tempest of anger held a bay.

"And the room, it was so cold! I mean, I'm sure you can tell. My teeth were chattering, and all I could think of was how I'd rather be filing your paperwork or listening to Reid's factoids about the quantum mechanics of coffee beans."

You felt Hotch's breath on your hair as he let out a sigh. 

"I'm just glad you're here now," you whispered, finally allowing yourself to relax in his embrace.

Hotch gave a curt nod, his jaw set. He was itching to confront the officer, to unleash a tirade not meant for your ears. But he was well aware of how much you needed him right now, and that trumped everything in his book.

Hotch took a moment to compose himself before speaking. "This isn't just incompetence; it's negligence. I will have this place reevaluated for its standards, or lack thereof."

You took a step back, hands still resting on his arms, and he maintained his grip on your waist. "I bet this is the last time you'll let me go on a date without a full background check on the guy, huh, sir?"

Hotch's hold on your waist firmed just a fraction. "Maybe it's the last time I let you go on a date, period."

He was only half-joking.

"Not even with you?" You tilted your head to meet his gaze, drawing his jacket closer around you.

Hotch just simply gives you that look, the one that says a thousand words without a sound. He's telling you to tread lightly.

"Alright, I'll be good," you giggle, the tension easing from your shoulders. "Can you take me home now, please?"

He nods, "Yeah, let's get you home."

And then he leads you out, thinking to himself that the next person to take you out will be him, but that's for him to know and you to find out later.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[rreids]

KISS STAINS • S. REID X READER

fluff; kissing; reader wears a red lipstick; gn reader; spencer is down horrendous; ~900 words

“Baby,” you call to where Spencer sits in the living room, working on a puzzle you bought him. “Can you come here for a sec?”

He hums an assent, just barely loud enough for you to hear and appears a minute later. “Hi, honey,” he whispers, leaning over and down to kiss you before straightening back up. “What’s up?”

You smile up at him and wave a lipstick tube. His brows furrow before raising in recognition as you pull the cap off.

“Can you put it on me and tell me what you think of the color on me?” You pout your lips at him and tilt your head expectantly.

He swallows and carefully grabs the lipstick, studying your features. “Yeah.” He breathes out the answer, lightly gripping your chin with his free hand to tilt your face up to him.

Spencer is slow and delicate as he spins up the lipstick and carefully lines your lips on the edges before filling the middle with smooth swipes. 

“How do you know how to put a red lip on?” You ask, trying to keep from sounding too pouty, as he pulls back slightly and studies your features.

“Watched Elle and Emily do it for years,” he mumbles. “Especially when we were out at bars and stuff, how they reapplied. And I’ve looked up how to put on and remove every type of makeup for you in case you ever ask.” He adds the last part quietly and your smile overtakes your face.

Spencer nods. “You look gorgeous. It suits you.”

You beam and tug him down to sit next to you, laughing at the way he stumbles and blinks, bewildered.

He’s wearing a loosely-done white button-up, gorgeous and slightly too sheer for him to ever wear out.

“Good. It’ll look good on you, too.”

You can practically see the question marks around his head.

“You’re putting it on me?” He mumbles. “Why?”

“Not the traditional way…” you whisper before pressing a kiss on his cheek, leaving a wet kiss mark as the satin of the lipstick has yet to dry down.

He flinches at the sensation. “Feels weird.”

“But it looks so pretty. You look pretty, Spence. Let me? You can take it off right after I get a photo.”

His brow furrows, but his complaint hesitates on his tongue as you kiss the exposed skin of his chest and leave another mark. “Just don’t send it to anyone.”

“Of course,” you whisper, kissing his other cheek, right where his dimples are. “Just for me.”

Spencer’s face is burning under your lips as you leave more marks on him, his chest flushed red when you pull back to study your work.

You smile at him and he smiles back before gasping as you kiss right next to his mouth, and he melts into you, hands finally moving to hold you.

“Gimme a real one,” he whispers, eyes sparkling with boyish want as he voices the request. “Like you mean it.”

With a soft exhaled laugh, you oblige, tilting his chin up and studying the youthful excitement and your marks all over his face before slotting your lips to his. He lets out a sigh of relief, immediately finding a rhythm in tandem with yours. 

He tastes like his sugary coffee and him, familiar and perfect enough to empty your head of any thoughts that aren’t about his kiss and taste.

Spencer tilts his head and presses deeper, surging up to press closer to you.

When you pull back for air, he whines and follows you, fingers twitching in frustration as he tries to keep you pinned to his body.

“The— the photo.” You remind him, dazed and with skin just as hot as his. “Then we can take it off and I’ll kiss you as much as you want. Real ones.”

Spencer nods and lets you pose him, cheeks burning on the peaks as you snap the picture. He flinches when you first put the cold make-up wipe to his cheek, the temperature too starkly different, but he melts into you as you gently sweep over and remove each stain — except the one on his lips.

“You missed a spot, honey,” he tells you, looking up curiously as he swipes his tongue over his lips. You shake your head, and his brows raise. “No?”

“It’ll get lipstick on it again anyways,” you murmur as you finally sink down onto him and kiss him again. His eager response makes you smile into it, threading your fingers into hair at the nape of his neck.

Spencer sighs and drops his forehead to your shoulder after a few minutes, letting you play with his hair as he steadies his breathing. “Did you know that a red lip—”

You frown. There were statistics about red lips?

“Is my favorite on you?”

Nevermind. You beam at him. “Really?”

“Really.” Spencer tells you, kissing your collarbone gently. “It drives me crazy.”

“Well, now you’ve given me too much power. I can wear it and have you do whatever I want…”

“I’d do anything you want anyways,” Spencer mumbles, almost defeatedly. “You don’t need the lipstick for me to find you breathtaking and lose all sense.”

You smile, tugging his hair so he looks up at you, lashes fluttering and eyes soft from where he rests. “All sense?”

Spencer swallows. “Yeah. I feel like I forget everything I know unless it’s related to you.”

not a want to do this and date him but a need

[elliesmainhoe]

need ellie to take care of me drunk desperately

i love your writing 😭

Rescue Remedy

e.williams x fem!reader

summary: you call Ellie to come and rescue you from a bar after having a few too many drinks

warnings: alcohol, cigarettes, mentions of hangovers, slurred speech, drunk crying, fluff.

just realized this is basically a self insert vent post of a very similar situation I've been in LMAO

WC 1K

DAY 4 OF SAPPHIC SUMMER

you were relieved when the familiar beaten up Ford focus pulled up beside you. you'd been sitting on the curb for almost 15 minutes- tear stained cheeks, smudged glitter and mascara as your body shook and jittered from both the cold Seattle night and the mixture of cigarette smoke and alcohol causing the most humbling case of hiccups you think you've ever had.

"Ells!" you whined, a new flood of tears streaming from your eyes at the sight of your night in shining armour- your girlfriend.

"c'mon sweet girl" she huffed, hair thrown up messily in the usual half up, half down style, clad in red and black checkered pyjama pants, black hoodie that was splattered with paint topped off with the obnoxious lime green crocks you'd gotten her for her one Christmas, of course decked out in charms shed collected over the past few months.

before you could even process it you were sitting in the passenger seat, leather seats sticking to your sweat glazed skin, and sobs turning to hiccups.

this had been the worst night out you'd had since your 21st. and as soon as the car revved and moved down the road, Ellie's hand pressed firmly on your bare thigh, the fabric of your dress not long enough to cover the majority of your thigh.

"what happened sweet girl?" oh and by that one question, it's like Ellie had opened a flood gate.

firstly, you got to the club of choice after having to walk almost a mile from where your designated driver had parked, accompanied by a couple of friends. after queuing on the curb for almost thirty minutes, you reached the front of the queue and then promptly realized you had left you purse. with your id. in the car. a mile away.

so after you'd trekked all the way to the car, retrieving your purse and id, getting back to the club, queuing for another 30 minutes, on your own this time- as your friends who had not forgotten their id decided to go in and leave you to sort your shit out.

let's just say you were already a little pissed off.

secondly, you got in the club and it stunk. not just of sweat and booze, but piss. fucking piss. and to top that all off you couldn't find your friends so- you did what any other sane person would do and ordered shots.

shots that were actually doubles, but of course you hadnt realized that until way too late.

which leads into the final stage of the night, your head being deep in a grimy toilet bowl, knees bruised from having to kneel on tiles that were not grouted properly and pieces of them shot out and cut at your skin.

and by that point you had gotten out your phone, which was now on 7% charge because you had offers to use your GPS and it drained all your battery, and was a blubbering mess on call with your girlfriend.

you would later have to retell the story again, as apparently according to Ellie- she couldn't understand a word you were saying, just nodding along in a desperate attempt to keep you awake long enough to get a glass of water and a slice of toast down you.

it must have been during your tangent when you'd gotten home, as when you finally finished your incoherent mumbling you were sitting on the beat up leather couch of yours and Ellie's apartment, a couch you'd hated as soon as you moved in, but Ellie had a weird attachment to so it stayed in it's place, the first thing you saw when you entered the home.

Ellie was kneeling in front of you, sitting between your thighs and facing you, holding up a large glass of water,

"sip baby" she spoke softly, to which you groaned.

"do- do- I haveeeeeee to?" you whined, batting your eyelashes in an attempt to distract your girlfriend "jus' wan' sleep"

"you can sleep after you drink that." after another groan you took a sip of the glass of water- admittedly, it was refreshing, however you still gagged to prove a point.

"good girl" she purred, standing up and kissing your forehead, moving over to the cabinet to grab a packet of pills.

"fuck off"

she laughs, moving back with a small white pill in the palm of her hand, to which you begrudgingly take after Ellie promises to take you to get ice cream the day after.

you felt your eyelids droop once more, you couldn't tell if it was sleep, or just your false eyelashes becoming suddenly very heavy, you whine "'m tired ells..."

"alright I hear you, c'mon baby" she sighs, leaving a half eaten piece of toast on the coffee table, one arm supporting your back and the other under your knees as she made her way to your bedroom, plopping you on the mattress and you sigh, already drifting to sleep before you screech at the feeling of something wet in your face.

"hey- hey" Ellie laughs, "I'm just taking off your makeup baby, just taking off your makeup", she smiles, dragging a cotton pad across your skin, taking off the creams and powders you had applied previously, smudged mascara coming off with it.

Ellie was thankful you'd taken off your clothes as soon as you stepped foot into the apartment saying something which she thinks was "dresses like these are modern day torture devices"- but with the way you slur your words when drunk she could never be sure, leaving you just in your underwear, making her job a whole lot easier.

trying to maneuver you, who had now dropped on the mattress like a deadweight, would've been a too strenuous task for 3am.

after discarding the used wipes and pulling your hair back into a very messy ponytail, Ellie scooted in beside you, the mattress sinking as you unconsciously snuggle in closer, head nuzzling into the girls neck, her hand going around to caress your back, soothing you into an easy sleep.

the hangover tomorrow was going to be horrible.

••••••••••••••

The third time I've tried to write this, I almost gave up 🥰

[redstarwriting]

bestie

spider squad x black cat!fem!reader

request?: yes

request: “hi! okay i love your works and my brains been rotting thinking abt this lol. i was wondering if i could request a black cat variant! reader that somehow (idk how sorry ), she's apart of the spider-society? Given that black cats backstory isn't all that nice, maybe she has a deal W miguel to let her stay if she makes sure she uses her skills to help the society instead of stealing? and how the squad(miles, gwen, pav, hobie) meet her in the society?”

requested by: anon​

word count: 2.1k

genre: platonic and chaotic LMAO

Warnings: language, stealing, bad Spanish, slight Gwen crush if you squint but also like not really

A/N: STOP I LOVE WRITING PLATONIC AND CHAOTIC THINGS!! i did change up the prompt a bit as they didn’t meet her in spider society necessarily (even though the did, they just didn’t know it lol) i hope you enjoy this anon! also if anyone wants to knows some of the specific songs that gave me black cat 2099 vibes lemme know 👀 i’ll make a post

pt ii - becoming hobie’s bestie

───────────────────────────────────

Gwen, Miles, Pavitr, and Hobie were called to “the principal’s office” as they started calling it. So here they are, in front of Miguel, waiting to be reprimanded for something they did. “I have a mission for the three of you,” he says, pointing to Miles, Gwen, and Pav. “Hobie, you’re not needed.”

“Like ‘ell I’m not,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. Miguel subtly smiles to himself. Reverse psychology. Works every time.

“Wait, what?” Miles asks, eyes wide. “You aren’t gonna yell at us for existing?” Gwen asks, equally as surprised. Miguel rolls his eyes. “For existing? When have I ever…” he trails off as Pav, Hobie, and Gwen point at Miles. 

And Miles points at himself. 

“Dios mío,” Miguel mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No. I’m not doing that. This time.”

“What’s the mission then? Are we going somewhere new? Oh! Can I bring back a souvenir?” Pavitr asks, excitedly. “No, but I’m sure you’ll end up with some sort of souvenir regardless,” Miguel grumbles, and Hobie raises his eyebrow. “Well, what do you mean by that?” Gwen asks and Miguel types into his computer. A picture of a girl pops up on the screen. “I need you to bring me her.”

“Uhhh what? You want us to bring you a… civilian?” Miles asks, and Miguel nods. “She’ll respond to you all better. You’re the same age,” Miguel says, and they all glance at each other. “Can you not be secretive for like, a couple of seconds? Is she an anomaly?”

“No, Gwen. Just bring her to Spider Society, please. She’s from this universe, so I’m just sending you to where I need you to go,” Miguel says, opening a portal for them to go through. They all glance at each other before Gwen shrugs, walking through the portal. Miles and Pav follow her, and Hobie rolls his eyes following the three of them. They find themselves… at a show? They’re on top of the catwalk in a stadium show, looking down at the audience. “What the hell?” Gwen mumbles and Hobie is intrigued when he sees the instruments on the stage. “Now why did he send us to a concert?” Miles asks, and Pav shrugs. Right at that moment, the lights go down and everyone starts to scream. “So, you think she’s in the crowd? How are we supposed to find someone in all of these people?” Miles asks, and Pav shrugs. “I can do it, easily,” Pav says, and Miles and Gwen give him a Look™. “What?! It’s simple you just look for her face! Miguel showed us a picture of her.”

“Aye, ‘e’s right. Found her,” Hobie says, and they all look at him. He’s pointing, and they follow his finger. “SHE’S THE SINGER?!” Gwen yells as the music starts. “Yeah. Guess we gotta wait for the set to finish,” Hobie says, shrugging and sitting on the catwalk, “Gettin’ a free show outta this shit at least.”

“Oh, please, every show you’ve ever been to has been free,” Gwen says, sitting next to him, taking her mask off. Hobie, Pav, and Miles all follow suit. “What does Miguel want with a singer?”

“I like her outfit,” Pav says, ignoring Miles’ question and sitting next to Gwen. Miles quickly slips between Pav and Gwen, shooing him away slightly. “Not my style. Lyrics ain’t bad,” Hobie says, leaning back and observing the performance, “She can sing, I’ll give ‘er ‘at.”

“I fuck with it. Lyrics speak to me,” Gwen says, and Pav nods. “She seems angry.”

“Yeah, that’s why I can respect what she’s doin’. Threatenin’ and angry music is cool,” Hobie says, bobbing his head up and down. Gwen nods. “Okay, guys, seriously, what does Miguel want with a singer?”

“Maybe she’s a scientist or something? Miguel needs her help?” Gwen suggests, and Miles shakes his head. “Nah, I feel like he’d just meet with her then.”

“He did mention she was close to our age, though. And her songs make it sound like she has an issue with authority,” Pav mentions, and Hobie nods. “I fuck with ‘er.” They all look at him. “Oh, I get it. She’s Hobie’s age,” Gwen says, and Hobie raises his eyebrow. “What does ‘at ‘ave to do with anythin’?”

“You two are the same age, both have a problem with authority… whatever she is, she needs someone she can relate to to actually come with us,” Gwen says, and Hobie nods. “Guess ‘at makes sense.” The four of them continue watching the concert. Even though it isn’t necessarily punk music, Hobie loves the lyrics. And Gwen loves all of the songs because she understands the lyrics more than the other guys. Miles is enjoying it because Gwen is enjoying it, and Pav is enjoying it because other people are enjoying it. However, neither of them would probably listen to this after this mission. When you’re nearing the end, Miles slips his mask back on. “Alright, everyone. What’s the plan?”

“We need to get backstage,” Gwen says, slipping her mask on as well. “‘ave a gander down there,” Hobie says, pointing at some marks on the stage. “What’s that?” Pav asks. “Pyrotechnics. When they go off, we go in,” Hobie says, and they all nod. “Hope they’re big enough that no one sees us,” Gwen mumbles and Hobie scoffs. “Gwendy, it’s a stadium show. It’s ‘bout to be big,” he says. The four of them prepare, running along the catwalk and getting ready to web back to where you would disappear to. Sure enough, the pyrotechnics go off and Hobie was right. They’re big. It gives them the advantage as they slip undetected backstage. They hide high up, watching as you run offstage after your encore. They silently follow you to your dressing room and Miles points at an air vent. Gwen nods, quietly yanking it off of its hinges. She crawls inside, taking a glance to make sure you’re still clothed, and then motions for the boys to follow.

Meanwhile, you’re wiping your makeup off, sipping on some water to soothe your throat from your performance. You walk away from the giant mirror to go grab a snack in the corner of the room when, suddenly, you feel like someone is watching you. You subtly unsheathe your hairbrush, which doubles as a dagger. Just in case. You take a deep breath, turning around, and throwing it. Miles leaps out of the way, and the other three’s eyes are wide. The accuracy with that throw was a little too good. “None of you are Miguel,” you say, on edge still. “Ay, don’t compare me to that bloody bloke. I’d rather die than be called ‘im,” Hobie says, and you give him an amused look. “I can arrange that,” you say, and Gwen clears her throat. “I just wanted to say your concert was like, totally, awesome.”

“Aw, thanks! Did you pay to watch?” you ask and she looks around. “Well uh… I, um—” She gets cut off by your laugh. “I’m kidding. I don’t give a fuck if you didn’t. In fact, I would prefer you didn’t,” you explain. “Oh! Then no. Too cool to pay, you know?” Gwen rambles and Miles turns his head to her, giving her a look that translates into ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ You chuckle. “Why are you four here, then? Señor O’Hara miss me?” you take a bite of the snack you picked, leaning against the wall. “How do you know Miguel?” Pav asks and you snort. “Long story. Oh! He finally find out I took something from him?” you ask, tossing your food to the side and crossing your arms. “I… we actually don’t know. He just said we had to bring you back to—”

“Wait he’s actually inviting me into his super secret spider society?” you ask, a look of excitement spreading across your face. “Uh. Yes?” Miles says, and you squeal. “This is so exciting! My first time being invited, okay, great, hold on,” you say, quickly running off and behind the changing room divider. “Uh… you’re just gonna come with us?” Gwen asks, and you yell a quick ‘yep!’ They all look at each other and shrug. “No offense, sweet’eart, but I thought it woulda been ‘arder to convince ya. Wasn’t aware bein’ invited by a stuck-up wanker like ‘im was all it would take,” Hobie says, and they hear a giggle from behind the screen. “Oh this isn’t my first time in his little fanclub,” you step out from behind the divider, garnishing an all-black catsuit with shiny black gloves coming to claws at the fingers. A small eye mask adorns your face, and you smirk. “It’s just the first time he’ll know I’m there.”

“Holy shit, no way! You’re Black Cat!” Gwen says, and you do a little curtsy. “Pleased to make your acquaintance officially, Gwen Stacy,” you say, and her eyes get big. “How did you know—”

“Like I said. Not my first time there. Surprising since you all have that spidey sense or whatever, but guess I’m just that good,” you say, pulling out a dimension-hopping watch. “When did you—”

“Do I have to say I’ve been to your Spidertopia already again? Come on, I’m sure your pendejo of a boss is waiting for us,” you grin, and Hobie shakes his head. “Not my boss. I like you, though. Gettin’ fuck the establishment vibes,” he says, and you wink at him. “Thanks, Hobie Brown. Appreciate it. Also, Pavitr, you need to tell me what your haircare routine is,” you walk through the portal, and the four of them follow after you. Sure enough, you step out of the portal and stand right in front of Miguel’s desk. “Hello there, Spider-Boy,” you say, and he sighs. “(Y/n). Give me the device back. Now.”

“I’m good, actually. Been having too much fun with it,” you say, placing it on your wrist. He mutters something in Spanish as the four of them appear behind you. “Wait, if you’re Black Cat, why are you like… a superstar?” Miles asks, taking his mask off. “Was told at a young age to never settle for second best. So, I never did. Also if you want to steal from the big leagues, you have to be in with the big leagues,” you say, shrugging. “Damn, she is… so cool,” Gwen whispers. “We have an agreement, (Y/n),” MIguel says and you groan. “Miguel! Big guy, amigo, can I call you that?”

“No.”

“Don’t care, when have I ever stuck with an agreement?” you ask and he frowns. “This is all because you want to be able to come here whenever you want, isn’t it?” he asks and you grin. “You’re so smart, bestie,” you say and he groans. “You’re impossible.”

“I know. So can I come here and not have to worry about multiple spiders biting me all at once?” you ask, and he sighs. “Yes.”

“YE—”

“BUT!”

“Fuck, there’s a but,” you groan, as he continues talking, “No. Stealing.” You feign offense. “What makes you think I would ever steal something from here?” He points to your wrist. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. This was gifted to me.”

“By who.”

“Myself.”

“Esta maldita chica,” he mumbles, and you grin. “Well, thank you so much for approving my breaking and entering of your little arachnid club. I’ll be sure to return everything I’ve taken in hopes that you would notice I wanted to be invited,” you grin, and he clenches his jaw. “You step one toe out of line—”

“I woooon’t! Promise! Before I return everything though, I kinda have a heist planned in Earth-42,” you shrug, pulling up a portal. “I’ll tell Miles you said hi, Miles,” you give him a smirk, but before disappearing into the portal, you hear Miguel. “When you’re done come back here. I actually might be able to use you for something.”

You smile at him. “Say less, Spider-Man.” Then, you disappear. “We’re about to see a lot more of her, aren’t we?” Miles asks, and Miguel sighs and nods. “Dude! She is so cool!” Gwen says, and Hobie nods. “She don’t take shit from no one. Respectable.”

“She’s funny! And she was able to shut you down, Miguel, that never happens,” Pav says, laughing a bit. “She seems kinda crazy,” Miles says.”

“What, like we aren’t?” Gwen retaliates and he shrugs. “I am perfectly sane! Most of the time…”

Miguel runs his hand through his hair in frustration as the four of them continue discussing you while walking out of the room.

He was not looking forward to the friendship the five of you were about to form.

───────────────────────────────────

[ellecdc]

Omgomgomgomg you guyssss my bff texted me today that she got a new CAT and his name is OAKES and he’s a retired barn cat/stray and he has a SNAGGLE TOOTH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH MEET MY NEPHEW

[superhoeva]

𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 – 𝐣. 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 (𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝟏𝟖+) | shaking in my boots to post this but we're gonna be brave today and do it anyway. i've been thinking about this man for around a month and i had to do something about it! didn't know it'd be a fic i wrote at 4am but here we are. warnings for this one include smut, language, oral (f receiving), bodily fluids (mentioned), insomnia, penetrative sex (p in v), and dirty talk. if i missed anything, let me know! super big special thanks to @heavenbarnes for just being them and introducing cod into my life. cosmo i love u! happy reading everyone <3 (w/c: 1.4k)

Before you met John, sleep didn’t like you enough to come when called upon.

Your nights were spent staring unhappily at the ceiling as you begged for sleep to take you away, yet it does no such thing. You’d tried counting sheep, only to curse the technique’s failing after you’d nearly made it near 400 and were still wide awake. Melatonin tablets in the early evening. Tea time before bed. White noise machines blaring through the hours of the night. Leaving your phone in an entirely different room. You’d tried it all, to no luck. 

Soon enough, your solution presents itself in a wide man with thick fingers and a sweet, sweet mouth.

Most nights, he has you back-arched and pussy seeping onto the sheets. Fingering, eating, then fucking you into a daze that allows for adequate slumber.

Fuck that he grumbles at you one evening after you pout to him about why you couldn’t make it through the day without a nap. He even evil-eyes your stupid white noise machine before pulling you to sit atop his hard thighs. Don’t need that shit, love. ‘Ve got somethin’ better.

He nearly melts at your tilted head and taught brow line that send him your silent what? You have to blink a few times before you realize you’ve been flipped onto your back.

Night after night, he’s relentless. Wagging and flicking and hauling the flat of his tongue right against your swollen pearl, your strength no match for his as your body tries to squirm away.

John has none of it, as he knows if you really want him to stop you’ll utter the safe word. Ears open and thick arms linking around your thighs, he digs his face impossibly deeper.

It’s as much for him as it is for you, clear as day thanks to the broken grumbles of how he would happily spend the rest of his goddamn life buried in this gorgeous cunt and the throaty growls that vibrate all the way down to his leaking tip. He eats away at you, nose and beard growing far past damp with your mess.

“Gonna come again,” you warn him pitifully, eyes rolling as he feels you start to pulse against him.

It’s your second of the night and just as mind-numbing as the first. John wrings his arms around you as you flail, eyes rolling at the taste of you oozing out onto his tongue.

“Fuckin’ incredible,” John sighs, nipping at the inside of your thigh before kissing his way up to your lips. He hauls you into a dizzying snog, dick twitching heavy as he lines it against your hole.

The kiss is a long one, mouths meshing with a few clashes of teeth. His tongue swirls, hips nudging the head of his pulsating cock into your puffy clit making you jump.

John coos at you through the end of the kiss, and you whine when he pulls away.

“None of that now,” he thumbs you lightly on the chin. His body towers over yours when he tows himself into a kneel, stifling a loud something when you snug a hand around his cock. Heaving breaths compel his chest into steep rises and falls as you slick your grasp back and forth, the wanton expression decorating your face enough to make him tilt his gaze.

“Gonna cum if you keep givin’ me those eyes,” the captain mumbles, the little grin he catches when he peeks down blooming something else within him. You squeal as he flips your body with little effort and sinks himself inside you with a bewitching languidity.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” John pushes out, hand planting just in-between your shoulder blades as he hunches, inhales catching in his throat when he’s finally slid completely inside. Railing into you wetly, he feels you already losing yourself in the measured, deliberate drives.

It’s just what you need. Something–someone, rather–to empty all the thoughts swarming around your brain. Someone to hold and fuck you towards a blissful oblivion. Sleep comes easier these days, your fucked out body sprawled against his as you snore quietly into his skin. No sheep, tea, or damn machines are any match for Price.

John drives himself sharp and deep, punctuating the good fucking girl that tumbles from him and hits against your ear. He smushes himself atop your frame, flaming skin heating yours, and hips grinding him until he’s balls deep inside of you once again. He stills for a moment, groaning with enjoyment at how you’re soaking walls press around him while you whimper out sweet nothings.

“Always feel so good wrapped ‘round me,” he mumbles sluggishly, breath fanning across you. “Squeezin’ me so good like the fuckin’ beauty you are.”

John starts again with slower thrusts, leaving your hole nearly empty before plunging himself back inside in a way that has you crying a lengthy wail. He himself can’t stop the stiff groan that leaves him at the act, grip maneuvering to pull you upwards.

His hips begin to snap into the cheeks of your ass as he clutches you tight, using the rest of his strength to keep you from falling as he fucks you deeper.

Your moan tumbles out as a sobbed string of curses, hand reaching backward for something, anything to hold onto while he pounds into you. Somehow you find the back of his neck that’s warm and humid with sweat, gripping the part of him with a squeeze.

Breaths punch out from deep in his chest, and you can only suck in half lungfuls of air, the bed rocking wildly under the two of you.

“My sweet girl. Poor thing’s gotta get fucked to sleep, huh? Can’t close those pretty eyes without me fillin’ you up first, hm?”

The words hit somewhere far inside you, mixing expertly with the wet sounds of your center drenching his dick in your slick.

“Right fuckin’ there,” John grunts, eyes shutting tight when he feels the angle of his hips flick just right, his throbbing tip gliding against the ridges inside of you. “Right there–fuck, squeeze when you get close, yeah?”

John has to chuckle when you do just that; squeeze your palm against his neck and dick as he gives your ass a light tap in response.

“That’s a girl,” he grins before snaking an arm around your front to settle a hand against your jaw to tilt your head to his. You mindlessly reach for a kiss, John obliging the request by pressing a wet peck into your lips. “That’s my girl, bloody perfect.”

He’s nearly there and so are you, eyes unable to stay open any further as the driving of his thrusts sound out in noisy smashes, cock gleaming with a pretty shine of a mixture of your sticky fluids.

“‘M coming,” is all you mewl out as a bright white blinds you. John watches you as best he can with a parted mouth, huffs of disbelief puffing out as you come around him. You shake and quiver against him, a fat tear or two sliding down your cheek while paralyzing ripples of pleasure heat you into a silent scream.

John keeps his clasp of you tight, encasing you as he works you through it. The way you clench and leak around him yanks the man into his own orgasm, his movement growing sloppy but intense as he comes.

His thrusts don’t pause when he spills messily inside your clamping walls, using you to milk every last drop of his seed out as he groans thickly.

You’re barely hanging on, all of your weight in the possession of John. He’s the only thing keeping you from melting onto the bed in the form of a puddle of cum and sweat, the last of your climaxes pulling a few flinches here and there.

A buzzy warmth has replaced the blinding heat as you sink into John, his wide chest splaying out nicely across your back, a hand rubbing soothing circles into the dewy skin of your stomach.

“My good girl,” the voice in your ear rasps out. You barely catch the words, lost in a pleased, exhausted fog that’s lulling you closer and closer to sleep. “Just what you needed, right? A good fuck to put ya t’a sleep…”

You don’t respond, further away now. You’re brought back a little when John shifts, his hand raising to cup your cheek. He glides his thumb, wiping away the remnants of your cries, leaving light kisses on your forehead, nose, and mouth.

“Gonna pull out so I can get your water. Wan’ you to drink the whole thing before you sleep.”

He waits until a sleepy nod bobs your head, tugging himself out of you slowly.

“Fuck me,” John whispers at the sight, his thick load dribbling out of you and into the bed.

He’ll get it in the morning.

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

sleeping beauty | s.r. x liaison!fem reader

spencer checked the time and date, one thirty pm on june tenth. he took a deep exhale then pulled open his top desk drawer, staring at him were two tickets for a screening of the french adaptation for sleeping beauty. he remembered you mentioning how she was your first princess movie to own on vhs, saying how the ending dance sequence was truly enchanting.

usually spencer goes to these film festivals by himself, but when this was one of the movies announced for the weekend, he decided now was the time. spencer reid was gonna toughen up and ask you on a date.

“hey reid,” he startled at the feminine voice beside his desk. he shut the drawer closed and turned to see elle watching him with raised brows, “everything okay?” crossing her arms and cocking a hip against his desk.

“ye- yeah. is there- was there something you needed?” hoping she doesn’t mention anything about his weird behavior, but most people would argue he’s always weird.

elle pursed her lips, “uh no. just wanted to know what’s got you sweating in this cooled office.” profiling nonchalantly. spencer bit into his bottom lip, his own brows raising as he squinted his eyes, “i- i don’t know-“

his sentence stopped short when he heard your gentle giggles and then his eyes followed your figure as you walked beside penelope. your eyes caught his and you waved in greeted, smiling widely as you continued on your walk.

“so something involving our second best liaison.” elle hummed, spencer flinched again. he forget she was still there, “n- no…” his stuttering more present whenever you were of the subject.

elle perked up and leaned forward, her eyes were alight, “are you finally asking her out?” almost squealing at the idea.

“what do you mean, finally?” spencer questioned. he didn’t tell anyone about his infatuation with you. elle rolled her smokey eyes, “oh please. you may have an iq of one eighty seven, but whenever she’s in the vicinity or mentioned it’s slashed to sixty.”

spencer felt his cheeks warm, he hunched into himself, “that’s not true.” mumbling into his chest. “you also stopped talking just to watch her walk down the hallway,” elle scuffed.

spencer licked his lips and figured there was no point in lying, plus elle might give him some advice for the date. “i’m- i’m planning to take her to a movie festival. they’re playing a french version of sleeping beauty.”

elle cooed, “gonna whisper the translation in her ear? that’s a pretty morgan move to do.”

that worried spencer, “that wouldn’t make her uncomfortable, right? i don’t want her thinking-“ elle held out her hands to stop his anxious rambles.

“just ask her. when presenting the tickets, ask if it’s okay to translate for her. if she says no, there might be something the theater has to fix that problem. but i’m sure she won’t mind.”

“who won’t mind what?”

spencer’s heart rate spiked when your voice was in earshot, then when elle moved to the side to show you joining the both of them he knew his ears started to flush red. he opened and closed his mouth, not sure how to steer the conversation.

“oh, how jj won’t mind if spencer steals you for a chat. i’ll go double check.” and with that fib elle sauntered away, leaving you confused.

“you wanted to talk with me?” hands held behind your back as you tilted your head. it prompted spencer to stand up, your head needing to lean back a bit to make eye contact.

he rubbed his palms along his pants, “uh yeah. i was- there’s this film festival that i visit regularly, many foreign originals or adaptations. and there’s gonna be a screening for a french sleeping beauty and i- i was wondering if you’d… would you like to- to go on a- on a date? with me?” he stuffed his hands into his pockets at the end when he noticed all his fidgeting.

your lips parted slightly and your head straightened, “i’d- i’d love too,” eyes twinkling like a star. “but i don’t know french.” an embarrassed smile at the information.

spencer moved a hand to scratch at his ear, “i- i could translate it for you. but i’d have to speak quietly and into your ear, is that- are you okay with that? we- we could also ask the employees for-“

you stopped him when you stepped closer and touched his forearm, a sweet smile shining upon him. “you can translate for me. i like listening to your voice.” your words a sweet syrup dripping over his heart.

spencer nodded dumbly, “o- okay. it’s- it’s friday at- at seven. so we can just- just leave after work.”

you nodded, “it’s a date.”

-

pt2

[ethereal-maniac]

In The Supply Closet

Non-Descript!Military!Fem!Reader x Simon‘Ghost’Riley x Johnny’Soap’MacTavish

A/N: oop my fingers slipped, my bad :3 .(Please let me know if I’ve missed any triggers!) (Very lightly proof read)

Summary: Pent up on base, you and Ghost go at it in the supply closet with an unexpected visitor at the end.

❗️CW ❗️: smut, unprotected p in v, (wrap it before you tap it), smut starts right away, off screen consent, a bit of voyeurism/exhibitionism, swearing, very slight and brief overstimulation, Soap’s a perv, reader cry’s from pleasure, Ghost and Soap have some bromance going on or somethin, though they aren’t dating reader, hints to a threesome. (Possible non con??? Idrk)

Do not copy, translate, transfer (plagiarise) or take ‘inspiration’ from my writing.

"Fuckin' 'ell, love," Ghost groans under his breath.

"She's s' desperate f'me," he pants, his eyes squeezing shut as your wet heat holds him in a vice grip. "Y' feel tha'?" His hand moves to where the outline of his thick cock pumps into you and presses down.

"We have t- ah, be quiet," you gasp as his hand moves again to your clit to rub small tight circles, your knees buckle and your mouth falls agape at the motion.

"Tell y'r pussy tha,'" he mumbles as the wet 'shlick' sounds of his cock plunging deep into you resounds throughout the supply closet, "so fuckin' wet." Ghost's right arm moves from caging you against the wall to wrap around your waist and hold you upright.

"Could barely ge' in 'er she's so bloody tigh'," you place a sloppy kiss over his balaclava after that comment, every word further building to your premature climax, he reciprocates your kiss (as best he can through a mask) with a grunt.

"Y' gettin' close, baby?" He asks after you break apart to slam your head back against the wall and heave in breaths, "fuck yes," you cry. You can't help but let your tears fall when he hits so good, the curve of him filling you in places you didn't even know existed.

"Le' go f'me, love," he huskily moans, "'m not gonna las' much longer."

He reconnects your lips through the fabric to try and silence the lewd sounds escaping your mouths, this has got to be one of the filthiest things he's ever done.

He cums with a low groan erupting from his chest when he hears your sweet whines, utter ecstasy washing over both of you. Your spongy walls clamp up around him and flush hot, making him tumble over the edge, his straining cock shooting ropes into your sopping cunt.

No one moves for a minute, your orgasms leaving you both in a hazy glow. You continue to pulse as he twitches in you and slowly softens, holding tightly onto each other as you try to process what's just happened.

You just fucked your lieutenant. Your lieutenant just fucked you. The lieutenant who's now panting into your neck and rubbing small circles on your hip with his thumb. Wow.

A familiar click you'd heard minutes before sounds again and light floods into the supply closet.

Bristling in alarm Ghost presses against you to cover your body with his own, turning his head to get a look at the intruder while you freeze like a deer in headlights and grip his torso anxiously. The friction from his sudden movement almost makes you shake in overstimulation, his now soft cock rubbing against your insides, but you're too worried to think much about it right now. Looking wide eyed over Ghost's shoulder you see Soap.

"Well, well, well, was wonderin' where ye both disappeared to," he grins.

"Oh, 's jus' you Soap," Ghost’s form visibly relaxes causing you to be further revealed. "Though' we 'ad a problem for a moment." He exhales in relief and rubs your side in an attempt to comfort you.

"Aye, calm down there, Lt," Soap unashamedly looks you both up and down as he tries to memorise the scene in front of him.

One of his best friends in a supply closet towering over a pretty lass like you, soft breasts exposed, tousled hair, tear stained face, fluids he knows all to well dripping down your thighs and disappearing to where your cargo pants have been tugged down around mid thigh… His own cock rises to attention at the sight. Beautiful. He hopes you’re ready for round two.

[mopopshop]

Tiktok pranks w/ Emily

I saw someone else do stuff similar to this and I wanted to try it but with Emily, pls don’t take this as copying or wtv 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾😖😖😖

Calling Emily another girl’s name

You set up your phone in the kitchen as Emily’s back is turned, the phone is set to record and you make sure it’s hidden so she doesn’t spot it. Quickly smiling at the camera you pretend to be casual and silent for a second before speaking up.

“Hey, Ella- I mean Em can you pass me a bowl?” you mumble slightly to disguise the  “mistake” 

Emily’s head whips around at breakneck speed and you fight the urge to laugh as you see the look on her face “Who?”

“You? Babe, who else” 

“You said Ella, who the fuck is Ella?”

“I said Em pass me a bowl, so can you pass me a bowl?” you’re lips quiver as your composure and need to laugh heightens 

“I literally just heard you call me Ella”

“Dude I didn’t and I just want my bowl so come on”

“I’m ‘dude’ now?”

“Ell- Emily I’m being serious I just want the stupid bowl for my cereal” you turn around to laugh, covering it with a cough

“You just fucking did it again!! You gotta be joking with me right now bruh, ain’t no way in hell…” Her voice raises in pitch and that’s what finally breaks you, you burst out laughing and grab your phone. Shoving it in her face as she quickly turns red from the embarrassment. 

“I pranked your ass, I pranked your ass!” you laugh and sing song as you leave the kitchen.

“Fuckin’ whatever dude” she scoffs

“Oh so I’m dude now?” you mock her quickly in return then run up to her with your arms wide as a silent apology.

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Calling Emily you’re friend to get her reaction

You have your phone propped up on your vanity mirror, bare faced and starting to film your GRWM (with a fun little prank in the middle)

Emily had just walked into frame as she’s already done getting ready before you, like always. She always has to make her presence known in your videos to keep the horny singles out of your comments. 

“Alright everyone get ready with me! Today me and my friend,” you make it obvious as you point to Emily who’s head is down while she scrolls through her phone “are heading out to get some food and shop. Just like a cute little day outing”

Emily immediately takes notice to your wording instantly, her head pops up and she makes eye contact with you through your vanity mirror. Her face is caked with confusion “Hold on.. your frien-“

You cut her off to continue the prank “I was thinking of doing an OOTD before we go so I’ll probably show y’all my friends fit first then mine”

Her face only scrunches up further as you continue to talk “Who- who’s your friend?”

“Huh? Hold on, let me finish the video and we can go” you say over your shoulder then turn back to the camera, grabbing a curling iron and beginning to wrap your strands of hair around it “you guys have been commenting on where I got my curling iron from and it was actually a gift from my bestie back there-“ 

You get cut off as Emily storms up to your phone, snatching it from the vanity as the camera is still rolling “Don’t know what the hell she’s talking about, we are NOT friends. I am her girlfriend, her girlfriend that she has se-“

You chase after her and grab the phone before she can finish that sentence “Okay!! Prank worked, by people” and quickly swipe from TikTok.

You’re pissing your pants laughing as you turn to look at Emily who doesn’t look as tickled as you. 

You pout and exaggerate your puppy eyes, opening your arms for a hug “I’m sowy my wittle baby, don’t cwy”

She rolls her eyes “I’m leaving without you”

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hope you guys enjoyed!! this is the start of a few fics and hcs that i’m dropping right after this so look forward 🫡🤞🏾