Why Do I Always Like People I Can't Have. What Happens When You Like Someone But They Dated A Girl You're

^me rn watching the superbowl bc what the FUCK are we doing Chiefs get it together mfs☹️

This is not a natural disaster. This was not inevitable. They didn't grow up like this. It was inflicted on them by the vilest sadists on earth.

My entire twitter feed is people in Rafah saying they’re terrified, saying their good byes, and asking us to remember them in our prayers. Rafah is facing a massacre. It’s a genocide. We will not know the number of deaths until the morning.

freshman fifteen - c.s

a/n: ….. smut ….. read at ur own risk ….. deleting soon …..

“you go to school here?” the brunette boy you’ve been dancing with for the past 20 minutes yelled over the music blaring through the speakers next to you. it was another friday night at a party in some random college house basement. all of your friends were long gone, calling it quits around midnight. you stayed for the boy, they didn’t want you to stay alone but you insisted.

“yeah! junior! what about you?” you shouted back, you could see him mouth something but you couldn’t hear. “what?” you asked hoping he’d repeat himself. he repeated his words but you couldn’t hear him again. it would be too humiliating to ask him to repeat himself again. you thought his lips mouthed senior so that’s what you went with. you spent a few minutes trying to shift your dancing to a quieter spot. the two of you tucked yourselves away in a quiet corner, each of you holding a plastic cup in your hands.

“much better, i can finally hear you better.” his smirk is prominent and his hand falls on your waist, gripping it to pull you closer. the beer in your cup almost splashes out with his pull. the two of you let out drunken laughs as you realize you would have both been covered in it. “i can’t remember if you’ve told me your name already?” it’s the first time you’ve heard his voice at a normal octave.

“it’s y/n” your cheeks were already hot from the alcohol but the fact that he cared enough to ask your name made them even hotter. your face turned into a red flush.

“mine’s chris.” he took the cup to his lips and took a sip, you watched his mouth intently as he did. his eyes peered over the entrance of the cup at you and you couldn’t help but think what he would look like peering up at you with his face shoved between your thighs. he must have had the ability to read your mind because he pulled the drink away from his mouth and used his free hand to pulled your face up to his. a rough kiss was placed on your lips, his hand left your face and gripped onto your ass firmly. maybe it was the alcohol, but no man has ever been this hot before.

the party was essentially over when you and chris had started kissing, it was just a bunch of people making out in their individual spots, as the music still blasted throughout the room. chris had slowly made his way from your lips down to your neck. he was gentle with his bites, nothing hard enough to leave a mark. you glanced around the now empty basement, everyone had left, it was just the two of you, finally alone. you pulled your cup up to your lips and finished it off, a little dribble of beer slid down from your mouth to your neck and you felt chris lick it up.

“fuck.” you mumbled and you heard chris chuckle to himself as your thighs squeezed together, trying to hold it together just enough to make it out of the basement. “wanna get out of here?” you ask him as he sucks on the sweet spot behind your ear.

“thought you’d never ask, come on, i have a room upstairs.” chris grabs your hand and leads you up the basement stairs. both of you stumbling as you make your way up another flight of stairs. he lives here and you’ve never seen him before, you come to party here at least once a month, what are the odds of that? he opens the door to a bedroom that has bare walls, a half made bed, and pepsi cans all over the nightstand. “sorry it’s a mess, wasn’t expecting company.” he laughed as he gently pushed you against the bed and locked the door.

you watched him carefully as he slid down his sweats, tore off his shirt, and walked over to you. he crawled on the bed and pushed open your legs with his knee. one of his legs were between yours and the other on the outside. “take this off yeah?” he smirked, tugging at the hem of your shirt. you obeyed and tugged off your shirt. chris stared at you for a moment before leaning down and reaching his hands behind you to unclasp your bra. as soon as your chest was exposed he began to plant kisses all the way from your neck to your hips. his saliva was cooling on your kiss and making you desperate.

a soft please escapes your lips as you practically beg him with your eyes to fuck you. chris smirks up at you and uses his free hand to drag your pants down your legs. you kick them off onto the floor and it’s not long before chris finds his face between your thighs. “mmm soaked. you won’t last long.” he buries his face into you and laps up the wetness you’ve created already. it causes you to let out a louder than normal moan and grip onto the sheets. it had to have been a lethal coming of all the pent up tension all night and the lack of sex you’ve had recently because it couldn’t have been more than fifteen seconds of chris’ tongue on your clit before your legs began to shake and you felt your stomach churn.

“mmm that’s it, cum for me.” chris mumbles into your heat as he feels your legs shakin around him. he doesn’t retract his mouth until he’s sure you’ve ridden out your high. you let out a whimper as he pulls away. you felt absolutely mortified that you’ve already finished, and chris could tell. “it’s okay, i teased you all night, now flip over and let me fuck you.” his voice was low and raspy, his command made you forget all about your embarrassment as you flipped over on all fours.

chris placed a hard smack against your ass and then used his left hand to shove your face down into the bed. the motion caused your back to arch in an angle you’ve never been in before. chris uses his free hand to line himself up with you. groans leave his mouth has he slips into you. although you can’t see it, you know chris doesn’t have to worry about size. you can feel him stretch you out from behind.

“oh fuck!” you moan out into the pillow as chris starts thrusting into you rapidly. he adjusts his hand from pushing your face down to grip your hair firmly and pull it back. he yanks the makeshift ponytail back far enough for you to turn your head and be able to see him as he fucks you.

“there’s my pretty girl’s face.” he says before licking his lips in pleasure. chris get immense pleasure for watching your eyes roll into the back of your head as your bodies smack into one another’s. every time chris feels you clench around him, he’s slows down just enough to take you away from another orgasm. after repeating this action two or three times you finally realize that he’s edging you, not himself. he could keep going on forever. the next time he tries to slow his pace, you start to fuck back into him.

“fuck..fuck!” the words spew out of chris’ mouth as he removes his hand from your hair and slithers it down to grip your neck firmly. “cut that shit out, i’m not done with you yet.” he keeps his grip firm around your neck while he slowly thrusts into you. you don’t dare act like a brat again with him. the edging was getting to be too much, you felt the knot in your stomach growing, you started to let your head fall down but chris’ grip pulled it right back up. “look at me while i fuck you.” his thrusts finally picked up some pace and you couldn’t hold back any longer.

“i’m gonn-“

“come on, i know you are, i know how good i make you feel.” his words gave you the greenlight to finally let go. chris made you keep yours eyes on him as he pounded into you throughout your high. your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you felt your breathing become even more restricted by chris. “you look so pretty with your eyes in the back of your head.”

you controlled yourself enough to look back and see him smiling. his hand released from around your throat but you didn’t look away, you stay focused on him. his tongue licks the area above his upper lip, he’s fully concentrated on watching his dick slide in and out of you.

“come on baby, i know you like the sight but i want you to cum for me.” you manage to get out even though your brain is in a post orgasm fog. you watch chris’ mouth form another smirk as he thrusts aggressively into you a few more times before you see his eyes roll back.

“i’m gonna- fuck!” he practically shouts for all of his housemates to hear. you felt your insides grow warm as chris finished inside of you. you were too fucked out to care. he slowly pulled out and you winced at the removal. “sorry i didn’t mean to-“

“it’s okay.” you tried to say more but you needed to catch your breath. chris snaked an arm around you to flip you over on your back. he admired your body and you watched as his eyes trailed up to your neck and he smiled. he could see the marks his hands left around your neck, if thought you could handle more, the sight alone made him want you again. he chose to take it easy and kiss you some more instead.

“do you want to stay? it’s four in the morning.” he asked as he watched you put your clothes on and check the time on your phone.

“no thanks, my roommate will tweak if i’m not there when she wakes up.”

“want me to walk you back? i don’t feel right letting you walk home drunk and alone.”

“trust me, i think i’m pretty sober after all that.” you laughed and he walked you back downstairs to the front door.

“wait hold on.” he said before he let you walk out. he dug through a coat on the rack near the door and pulled out a wallet. he handed you a 50$ bill. “for the morning after pill, sorry again.”

“it’s okay, thank you.” you smiled at him and tried to walk away but he pulled you back in for a quick kiss goodbye. you knew you must have sobered up quite a bit because you could smell the alcohol on his breath. chris watched you walk off the porch and down the street some before going back inside. you made your way back and crawled into your own bed, silently thanking your friends for forcing you to go out that night.

-

a week had gone by since you slept with chris. you hadn’t seen him around campus at all. you were starting to think he didn’t even go to your school. the only thing that made you believe it is the room he had at the house. you spent the whole week bragging about the guy that could make you orgasm in fifteen seconds. they didn’t remember him from the party last week and you were determined to show him to them. so eager, it was your idea to go back to another party at that house this weekend.

“so what was his name again?” your friend asks as you both grab a beer from the keg.

“chris. i don’t see him yet.” you looked around the room to try and spot him. there’s no way there’s a party at his house and he’s not there. your friends and you lingered around and danced with strangers for a little bit until some guy stood up on a table and made a drunken announcement.

“alright ladies and gents! this is a special night at the hockey house! we have a few freshman players we’d like to welcome..” you stopped listening, uninterested in a bunch of freshman hockey players. there was only one guy you wanted to spot. you kept looking around until your friends started smacking you on the shoulder.

“wait y/n!! isn’t that him? i recognize him!!” you look over to see who she’s pointing at. low and behold it’s chris. it’s chris being introduced as one of the freshman players. your eyes widened and your checks flushed.

“yeah… uh… that’s him.” you were embarrassed to admit it.

“you slept with a freshman! and he made you-“

“shut up!” you yelled at her. you looked back over to chris and saw him looking at you. he smiled in your direction and you tried to politely smile back. you should have asked him again what year he was.

“i have a nickname for him y/n.” your friend’s devious smirk was never good. you sighed.

“what’s that?” you asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

“the freshman fifteen.”

tags: @greatooglymooglyyy @bernardsgf @orangeypepsi@honestlybabymiracle

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@paper-crab@blueeyedbesson@lacysturniolo@junnniiieee07

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Justice for Sonya Massey

Say her name

She was a beautiful woman with two kids who was unrightfully killed by police officer Sean Grayson

She called for help and she met the end of her life by the same people who were supposed to help her

Fuck the cops and fuck anyone who tries to defend this man’s abhorrent actions. He deserves the same fate if not worse. He took an innocent woman from this world and he deserves twice as much as the pain

Say her name

Sonya Massey

will leaving hawkins thinking he’s the only gay person around only to come back to the fruit farm

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SWALLOWIN’ MY PRIDE

↳ series masterlist!

↳ summary: in which chris is forced to swallow his pride as he comes to terms with the new that y/n has shared, realizing it’s not just her fault. however when he mentions the alternatives, he fails to see how much it hurts his girlfriend.

↳ pairings: boston bruins player!chris sturniolo x fem!reader!

↳ warnings: swearing, angst, chris not wanting a kid, verbal arguments, big talks about abortions and giving the kid up for adoption, mentions and descriptions of vomiting, a loooot of angst tbh.

↳ important things to note: this is a heavy chapter so please keep that in mind if you choose to keep reading, i’ve done my part and have warned you about what this chapter entails so please do yours and close out of this fic if you cannot handle those topics. i am not your mother i cannot stop you, but if you choose to keep going despite being uncomfortable with the things i’ve warned you about, you are not allowed to get upset with anyone but yourself. enjoy<3

THIRD PERSON POV

chris was left utterly speechless as he stared at the thin plastic stick in his hand. the only thing running through his mind, was “what am i going to do? i just signed the contract today?” he felt guilty being so absorbed in his doubts about his career but it was something he had worked for his entire life. he knew his concerns were selfish, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop worrying about them.

the words “we’re pregnant, chris.” rang in his ears like a bell chiming, he felt his breath get stuck in his throat and he wasn’t able to breathe. he quickly shifted y/n off his lap so he could begin pacing, he held his head in his hands as his skates clunked against the padded locker room floor.

“what the fuck are we going to do y/n?” chris spits, his voice broken and unsteady as he looks at his girlfriend, her eyes red with unshed tears as she shook her head softly and shrugged.

“i don’t know chris.”

“why weren’t you careful?” chris exclaims, unintentionally putting all the blame on her as her head snaps up, her brows furrowed tightly as she breathes out a listless laugh.

“how is this all my fault?”

“i’m not saying it’s your fault. but why didn’t you just get an abortion?”

“in case you forgot what you were taught in fifth grade health class, it takes two people to make a baby, chris. you were the one that wanted to hit it raw and you promised to pull out but clearly you didn’t. and i didn’t want to abort it without your input because this child is half of you, too. and i would not be able to sit through that alone!“ she scoffs, tears dripping down her cheeks as she stares up at him, guilt and regret chipping away at the slight glimmer of hope that chris would be okay with it that she held.

“i just signed a good contract baby, i can’t miss my games for this shit.” chris sighs, his heart rate slowing down, but his mind was still racing, leaving him blind to the internal battle his girlfriend was facing.

he felt sick, he had everything mapped out for the next five years and this baby completely threw a wrench in everything that he had meticulously planned. there was no way a baby this early in his career would look good, it’d make him look reckless and uncaring about his job.

“do you not think i’ve been thinking about that, chris? that’s the only thing i’ve been thinking about since i found out or even had the slightest idea i was pregnant, i have been terrified of derailing the life plans you’ve set up for yourself and i don’t know what the fuck to do but what i do know, is that we’re pregnant and we have to make a decision about this. so until you’ve processed this, you can stay with one of your brother’s, i will be waiting at home.” y/n replies, her voice gradually getting quieter and breaking even more as she finishes. wiping her tears, she quickly exists the room, the need to vomit overcoming her.

her mind wouldn’t stop racing. it brought every possible scenario to the surface and she was beyond scared. what was she going to do? chris sure as hell didn’t seem to want the baby, and she thought she didn’t either but talking about it to chris had her realizing that she wants a family more than anything.

as she knelt in front of the toilet , she couldn’t help but laugh internally. finding out you’re expecting a child was supposed to be a joyous and happy time. finding out that you’re carrying a life that is half of yourself and the person you’re in love with, the person you’re fully committed to for life, was supposed to have you feeling over the moon. and instead, it had y/n’s stomach twisting with guilt, regret, heartache, and distress.

ash she wiped her mouth and flushed the toilet, she sat on the edge of it, letting her tears fall as she let the feelings of hopelessness and loss fully consume her heart. would she really see this pregnancy to term if chris didn’t want anything to do with her and the baby? if she did, would she let chris back into her life when he decides he wants a family? or would he seek a family somewhere else?

“how the fuck am i going to survive this without him?” she whispered to herself, quickly exiting the public washroom and making a beeline for the front entrance.

chris on the other hand, was stoic as stared at the wall opposite of him, the thin plastic stick beside him taunting him and his mind, almost as if it was telling him that he was acting selfishly. instead of comforting his girlfriend, who was as equally terrified of their recent news as chris, if not more? he blamed her. he yelled at her.

he callously told her to abort their baby to be. to get rid of the life growing inside her as if it meant nothing. as if it wasn’t the product of two people that loved each other deeply. even if it wasn’t planned or considered, that child to be was still the result of chris and y/n’s love. of the fact that they held each other so closely that they made love without any preventative measures. but chris couldn’t look at it that way, he didn’t want to.

his focus was on his career, hockey was everything to him. it made him everything he is. but was hockey really the only thing that mattered to chris? as he mulled over the answer, images of y/n sobbing as she held the freshly positive test, of her sobbing and scared in front of him waiting for him to pull her into his arms in the middle of that locker room flash through his mind. he felt guilty, he hadn’t even hugged her as she sobbed, he so badly wishes he could rewind the clock a few minutes so he could react differently but he couldn’t.

he knew he wanted a family at some point in his life, but now? it was so early. he wanted to bask in all the glory of being the newest and youngest star on the bruins without the responsibilities of his personal life hanging over his head. but that wasn’t possible.

as his team made their way down the hall, chris shoved the test into the side pocket of his hockey bag and plastered a fake smile on his face. the team cheered and hollered as they had won the game. chris joined in on the festivities, briefly forgetting the decision he had to make as the team got dressed in their suits and dress clothes, deciding to hit the bar in the lounge above the rink nd celebrate their win and landing bracket in the playoffs.

y/n was in the complete opposite state, she sat at the table, the meal she had prepped hours ago as soon as she got home after leaving the game early sat on the table in front of her. it had grown cold and stale as she tried to bring the urge to eat to life but she couldn’t bear the thought of choking back her food. she hated eating without chris. she knew he wasn’t going to join her after she told him to stay with one his brothers, but out of pure muscle memory she made a plate for him and it sat across the table from her, taunting her, as if to say “this is what your future will look like if chris decides he doesn’t want the baby.” and it broke her heart into a million shards.

could she really handle a life without him? they’ve been together for so long as it is. was it worth it to go through everything that they have already, just for a child to tear them apart? she didn’t know the answer to that and she didn’t want to. she hoped that somehow, chris’ mind would change and he would have this great epiphany and realize he wants this, the family life with y/n.

she knew how important this spot on the bruins’ team was to chris, she knew that more than anybody else. but was it more important than a life with the woman he called his soulmate? was his career more important to him than his relationship?

y/n, truthfully, had began to believe it was. he would call off dates and anniversary dinners to go hang out with the team, he would come home late the nights he promised to be home early. he put so much of their time together on the back burner, and maybe this child was the wake-up call she needed. maybe she wasn’t cut out for the life of dating a superstar hockey player.

sighing, she cleared the plates off, putting the leftovers in an air-tight container and leaving them for her or, hopefully, chris to eat another day. she quickly loaded the dishwasher and started it before cleaning the rest of the kitchen. as she had finished, she flicked off the main kitchen light, leaving the light above the stove on so that when chris came home, if he had made up his mind yet, he wouldn’t be surrounded by complete darkness. but she knew in the back of her mind, chris coming home tonight was just wishful thinking.

as she laid in bed, she scrolled through instagram, chris’ story updates catching her eye. pressing down on his profile circle surrounded by a pinkish purple ring, she was met with the sight of chris and john shot gunning beer in their suits, leaving her slightly hurt that instead of talking about things with her or his brothers he chose to party with his team. she knew that making an appearance at the after parties was important, she had just hoped their situation was more important. but refusing to let herself dwell on what she meant to chris, she rolled over and willed herself to sleep.

it had been a few days since her confession to chris and she had yet to hear even just a single word from him. and the silence was killing her. after her doctors appointment, which confirmed that she was in fact two months along, she had received texts of congratulations and more from his family so she assumed he had said something and maybe he wasn’t completely ashamed of what was happening, but she had a gnawing feeling of doubt in her stomach telling her that wasn’t the case.

“matt i don’t know what to think.” chris sighed, looking to his more level-headed brother for advice in this situation.

“well chris, do you really want her to abort it? like can you live with the fact that you’re putting her through that, you know that she’s completely all for it, but it’s different when it’s the one going through it. so would you be able to live with the fact that you’re pushing her to take away this chance, both of yours and hers, at a family right now?”

“well when you word it that way-“

“and who’s to say that you won’t be looking at having a family the same way down the line if, let’s say, she aborts the baby now and this entire thing happens again? would you put her through it twice? when you could just as easily implement all the later plans with your career that included a family into your plans for now. it would be much easier to maneuver things around right because the ink on your contract has barely dried yet. you do it later down the line and shit could go up in flames. but if you’re still dead set on pushing her to an abortion, by all means do it. it’s up to you man but from the way you’ve talk about it, y/n wants to have a family so what you’re doing is most likely killing her, and if you pushing her to do this wrecks your relationship, you won’t find another girl to love you the way she does. and i know you didn’t actually ask for it, but my opinion is that you’re being a fucking idiot. you and i both know that all you’ve wanted with y/n is to raise a family. you talked about your future kids’ names with her two months into the start of your relationship. so i’m not sure why you’re doing all this shit, chris.” matt rambled, his words cutting directly into the flesh of chris’ heart, he knew matt was right. every word he spoke nothing but truth clinging to it. so why was he putting both him and y/n, mainly y/n, through all of this? sighing, chris nodded and thanked him for the advice before plucking his keys off the counter of matt’s kitchen before heading out the door and climbing into his car.

chris made quick work of driving home to y/n, he felt so unbelievably guilty for leaving her alone with her thoughts for as long as he had. as he stepped into their shared home, he felt like an intruder, he didn’t feel like himself, because in what world would chris, the same chris who is so unbelievably and irrevocably in love with y/n, push her to terminate their child? chris should’ve been ecstatic and sobbing over the news. instead he let his job cloud his judgement and focus, and he felt terrible.

“baby?” chris calls out, quickly climbing the entryway stairs and standing in the main hallway, waiting for y/n to answer.

“in here.” she calls back, her voice tired and strained from all the crying she had done. as chris rounds the corner into their room, his heart breaks at the sight of her curled up on his side of the bed in his hoodie.

“i am so sorry y/n, i’ve been an asshole.”

“i’ll say.” she whispers, shifting back to her side of the bed as chris climbs in beside her.

“i want to apologize for blaming you, it’s not your fault. and for suggesting an abortion without actually hearing what you want. if you want one, i’ll support you. i talked to matt and he made me realize what a jackass i’ve been. if you genuinely want this baby, then i do too. i love you, and i want you to be safe and happy. and if having a family makes you happy, then i’m willing to raise this baby with you because in all honesty, i do want this baby.”

“what about your career?”

“we’ll figure that out when we need to.”

“okay. i love you.”

“i love you forever and a day, y/n. i’m so sorry i’ve been so shitty, i was scared and lashed out on you when i should’ve acknowledged that you were scared too, i shouldn’t have let you deal with it on your own.” chris hums, wrapping his arms around her as she dries her tears and rest her head against his chest.

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↳ this story is far from over, let me know if you want a part three <3 there’s gonna be so much angst i actually feel bad which is crazy bc i never feel bad for writing angst

Lacey 🎀 - Matt Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,000

Content Warnings: explicit language, SMUT! (With plot), Matt w/ a breeding kink

For my anons who requested DAD!Matt. Hope you love <3

PT2 <-

You knock on Matt’s door, suitcase in tow, damp from the rain. He’s at there in seconds, shirtless, Lacey cooing at his hip. You sigh.

“They told me they were starting the renovations this month; I didn’t think they meant the first of the month.”

Matt laughs, lugging your suitcase inside. “Trade ya,” you coo, holding your arms out for Lacey. Matt complies, letting his one-year-old fall into your arms. She grips your hair carefully looping it around her fingers, a habit she picked up at six months. “And why aren’t you asleep, Ms?” You coo. Lacey rests her head above your chest, wrapping her short legs as far as she can around your torso. “Da-da” she babbles, raising a finger to Matt. You laugh.

“Oh, so this is your fault.” You joke. Matt raises his hands pleading innocent. “She took a three-hour-long nap and now refuses to sleep!” He laughs.

“I’ll put her down, go put a shirt on.” You smile. Carrying Lacey to her nursery.

Matt put work into Lacey's room; it was decorated with bows and teddies, pink from head to toe, with a white rocking chair adjoining her crib.

She protests when you attempt to lay her down, so you decide in your tiredness to hold her against you. You sway with her in the chair, humming her to sleep. Holding her with too much love to simply be doing a favor for a friend.

“She went down easy.” You say softly approaching Matt. He’s at the stovetop, cooking something in a frying pan. “She always does with you,” He laughs. “I’m making food if you want some,” he adds, “if you count frozen fried rice as a dinner.”

“Frozen dinners are nothing new to me, Matt.”

“She's getting so sassy.” Matt laughs. “She’s one!” You interpose. “The sassiest one-year-old I’ve ever met.” Matt snorts. The two of you laugh over Lacey for a bit too long until Matt stands. “I have a shit ton of errands I have to do tomorrow—I should sleep.” He says.

“Yeah, go ahead.” You urge. “Do you want my bed, I’ll take the couch?”

“No, you have a comfy couch. Plus, I want to watch some TV. Anyways.”

You change into loungewear and cozy onto the sofa, switching on the TV. Matt has the comfiest couch you’d ever slept on. Not that you’d slept on countless men’s sofas, but being friends with a girl dad had its perks.

You switch your show off at one a.m. The binge might have been too much. You lay back on the couch, shutting your eyes, but your peace is short-lived—Lacey cries, breaking the silence. You decide to be the one to soothe her, concluding Matt’s sleeping you creep to Lacey’s nursery and cradle her into your arms.

“Hunny, you're gonna wake up your daddy.” You lull, nursing her head. You pace the room with the toddler in your arms, bouncing as you step to pacify her. “Attagirl” You hum, seeing her close her eyes. You set her in her crib once more, hovering over her to adore her features.

“She's cute huh?” Matt sighs, he stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“She’s got your eyes.” You smile, turning to face him, “You know—I was trying to do something nice for you and put her back to sleep, but you being here awake defeats the whole purpose.” You pout. Matt smiles at your claim lightheartedly. “Not the whole purpose.” Matt drawls, “Because I wasn’t the one bouncing around the room with her.” You laugh, stepping out of the space with him. “You’d be a great mother, you know.” He hums. “I doubt it.” You counter. Matt stares for a second.“I trust you around my daughter more than anyone else; you know that?”

“I know.” You gush.

You bite your lip, knowing he’s going to go back to bed but wanting to stop the inevitable. “Matt?” You question. He turns his head to yours, his way of saying he’s listening. You step closer to him, snaking your arms around his neck. “I’m gonna kiss you.” You hum. “Go ahead, ma’”

With that, you pull his lips to yours, kissing him deeply. The kiss is half-lidded and tired, but your lips move against each other like parts of a puzzle. “Come to bed with me.” Matt urges. You raise a brow smiling. “Nothing sexual…” he groans, “It’ll be better than the couch.” You chuckle, “Just teasing Matt.”

The two of you wake up to Matt's blaring alarm. You groan, mumbling a “turn it off '' pulling a pillow over your head. “Sorry! Sorry!” Matt jeers, reaching over your body for his phone, and quickly clicking the alarm off.

“Okay, I have to go grocery shopping, do you want anything?” You cut him a look, pulling the pillow off your face. “Okay… You want to sleep, so I will leave...”

You sleep late. Late enough for Matt to have gone out of the house three times. The third time he’s back in the house he’d had enough of your snores. “Let's go wake Y/N, huh Lace?” Matt calls. He places Lacey down on the bed. She coos, crawling over to your sleeping form. “Mama! Mama!” She echoes, smiling widely.

Matt's eyes go wide. Mama?

He’s at a loss for words. She's never said that word before. She's calling you Mama? Maybe it was just a mix of words. Fuck.

“Hey, Lace?” Matt questions, almost as if expecting an answer. Lacey looks up at him for a split second, definitely more enamored in you. “Let's let Y/N sleep okay?” He says picking her up. “No, no, no.” She croons, her little eyebrows furring. “Mama!” She points, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. “Lace, c’mon. Jesus.” He’s fighting a losing battle.

You sit up, blinking yourself awake to the sight in front of you, Matt fighting to keep his little girl in his grasp. She sees you awake and wriggles even more, twisting her hips around. “Matt you can let her go, I’m awake.” He sighs loudly. Letting her plop down on the bed. “Mama!” She calls, scooting over to you as fast as she can.

Your eyes go wide, shooting Matt a look. Did she just call you mama? Matt bites his lip nervously. You exhale deeply, choosing to ignore it for now, deciding to give Lacey the attention she wants you to hold her in the air, gently swooning her around. She squeals, bubbling with giggles. You laugh along with her, hers proving to be contagious.

“Breakfast?” Matt suggests. You nod, smiling greedily. “More like lunch, actually.” He smiles.

The two of you sit down after Matt puts Lacey down for a nap. It was a struggle.

You sit next to each other on the kitchen island, eating French toast out of takeout boxes. “This is nice. Thank you.”

“It’s my thank you, for putting her to sleep last night,” Matt says.

An awkward silence meets the two of you. The only sounds are the clanks of your utensils.

“So… uh—We kissed.” Matt interposes. You nod your head, “yeah…” Matt sighs, “And my daughter is calling you mom.” You nod again, smiling curtly at the unimaginable situation. “Yeah.” You laugh, awkwardness laced in your tone. Matt groans, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry—I guess she’s never really had any motherly figures in her life before. You’re kind of the only one.” You shake your head, biting your lip. “I don’t mind. It’s cute—Unless you have a problem with it, I don’t want to make things weird.”

Matt chuckles, “I’ll try and get her to call you Y/N, but she’s stubborn.” He jests, then his tone becomes genuine, “Okay, the kiss.” He adds. You smile childishly recalling the previous night. “Do you want to go to dinner with me?”

Matt hadn’t been on a formal date in a year and a half. So nervous was an understatement. Yes, you two were living together for the time being. Yes, you’d already mutually agreed you had feelings for each other and yes, he was scared shitless.

“You look nice,” Matt compliments. “Thank you.” You hum, leaning across the dashboard to press a kiss to his jaw. “So what are we eating?” You question, leaning back in your seat. “Italian,” Matt smiles, starting the car out of the lot.

The strong aromas of rich sauces fill your nose the second you step into the restaurant. You inhale lightly; Matt notices your gesture and smiles. “I'm guessing I chose right?” He smiles. “I do love pasta.” You hum, making your way to the reservation desk. “Sturniolo, Matthew,” Matt introduces, looking at a worker in white

The waiter shoots Matt a knowing look, almost like they know each other, grabbing two menus out of a slot. “Right this way,” he says, gesturing to the more secluded parts of the restaurant.

“This is fancy, Matthew.” You laugh, pulling your chair out. “I haven’t been out in a while—I know you haven’t been out in a while, so why not wine and dine you?” You laugh. “Wine does sound good right now.”

“What is this?” You laugh at the elongated French word sprawled across the menu. “I have no idea. We should order it and find out,” Matt jests. “For fifty dollars?” You smirk. Matt smiles, “Maybe a Google search is a better option for that one.”

Matt glances at the menu, a playful smile on his face. “Any preferences, or should I just surprise you?”

You laugh, “Surprise me. I trust your taste.”

Matt orders, leaving the waiter to come back minutes later with two plates of beautifully presented pasta in hand. You let out a “wow” as he sets the plates down.

“I haven’t been to a restaurant since before Lacey was born,” Matt confesses. You laugh “Shit, I can’t remember the last time I went on a date.”

Between mouthfuls, you and Matt make easy small talk, conversations flowing freely between the two of you—a mixture of lighthearted banter and genuine connection.

The waiter makes rounds, discreetly refilling your wine glasses, adding to the sense of indulgence.

“Finished?” A server asks, his French accent overpowering his words. “Yeah,” Matt replies, stacking the plates for him. “You ready?” He asks lightly, gesturing towards the door. “Yeah.”

“So did you wear that shirt just to tease me?” Matt says casually. Your cheeks flush red, and you giggle slightly. “Maybe...” you drawl, “Is it working?”

Matt curses under his breath, “A little too well.”

You step outside, turning the corner fast. Matt pulls your lips to his hungrily, so fast you stumble slightly into him. He snakes his hand under your top, pressing his cold palm to the arch of your back. You gasp, breaking the kiss.

“Fuck Matt.” He presses you back against the building leaning into you, kissing your neck harshly. “Jesus Y/N. I want you so bad.”

Your eyes dart around. You are not about to have car sex for you first time with him.

“Hotel,” You breathe, pointing across the street. Matt’s eyes follow yours, he nods slightly at your request “Yeah.” He breathes, pulling you over the curb, with no regard for oncoming traffic.

It doesn’t take Matt long to secure a room, the worker shoots the two of you disapproving looks handing you a swipe card. “Knock yourselves out.” The lady mumbles. “Trust me, we will.” Matt chides, under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.

The two of you rush to the elevator. Once you are in Matt eagerly hits the button, “Why’d they put us on the fucking sixth floor. "He huffs, tapping his foot against the metal ground with eagerness. The door dings, signaling you’ve reached the floor. Matt lets out a sigh and pulls you out of the box. Kissing you harshly.

“Fuck, Matt—room.” You stammer. Matt complies and paces down the hallway in a near jog, your hand in his. He swipes the room card quickly and the transactor beeps red. “Fuck.” Matt breathes under his breath. You take the card from his hand and swipe it yourself. Slowly. “Pipe down lover boy.” You jeer, pushing the door open.

By the time the door’s closed both of your shirts had been discarded on the plaid rug. Your lips fall together messily, Matt's hands never leaving your body.

You sigh against his lips. “Matt, I need you.”

“I know,” He mumbles, toppling onto the bed with you.

Matt tugs on your bra fervently, “Fuck. Can I take this off?” He groans. You nod eagerly. He takes the bra off in one swift motion, not bothering to push it aside once it's off you.

He presses a kiss to your perked nipple sending a shiver down your body. “Matt, c’mon.” You groan, he’s teasing.

Matt trails his head down, loose hairs tickling your abdomen, he presses a kiss to your stomach, looking up at you. “You want to do this?” You nod rapidly. “Matt if you don’t touch me right now I’m going to get myself off.” With that, he rips off his belt. You, at the same time, shimmying your pants off your ankles.

“You're so pretty.” He gushes, wasting no time to dip a finger in your core. You whimper at the feeling. “Fuck, your so sensitive” He groans, “When’s the last time you’ve been touched like this?”

“Stop talking and move faster.” You moan, grinding against his fingers. “Sorry ma’” He quips, adding a second finger, pumping them quickly into your walls. He quickly finds your g-spot, chuckling slightly, when you wither under him. He abuses it, thrusting his fingers into your plush spot every time he prods his fingers. “Matt I’m gonna cum” You whine, he smirks as you scrunch your eyes.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You babble through a trail of whimpers.

You orgasm around him, velvet walls clenching around his fingers. “You’re so sexy,” Matt mutters, pressing a kiss to your hips. He crouches above you, pulling his boxers off. His tip is red, awaiting release, glistening with precum.

He spits in his palm, pumping his dick twice before lining himself with your entrance, pushing himself in slowly, groaning as you tense around him. “You’re so tight fuck.” He moans bottoming out.

You pinch your eyes shut, “Matt—move.” You whine. He nods, starting a rhythmic pace against your hips. “So -ngh- good with kids why don’t I -mmph- give you your own. “ Matt moans, sending your mind into a frenzy. Your walls clench around him and he smirks. “You like it when I talk like that?” He grunts. “You want me to breed you?”

Your moans rise in pitch signaling to Matt your close. A trail of whimpers leaves your mouth, you, shaking your head slightly. “Oh—Matt. I can’t- I can’t.” He keeps his thrusts steady. “Yes you can’ c’mon”

“I'm cumming!” You shout, walls spamming around his length. “Good girl,” Matt grunts through his own moans chasing his high.

“Fuck! Can I cum inside?” Matt pleads, his thrusts growing sloppier. “Please.” You whine.

Matt moans, jolting his hips against yours, “Shit.” He curses, harshly gritting his teeth while he comes. His hips jolt against yours weakly before he pulls out and topples off you, sinking into the bedsheets. “Oh my god.” You sigh, chest heaving as you're grounded to reality. “Matt I..”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He interjects, cutting you off. You breathe deeply, letting a happy laugh fall from your lips. “Yes, I'll be your girlfriend!” You laugh, pulling his lips to yours. Your hands cupped his cheeks, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

Matt pulls away faster than you expect a look of worry on his face.“Lacey,” he curses, shooting up from bed.

Your eyes widen and you prop yourself against the headrest. He pulls on his jeans and boxers, loosely tossing you your shirt. You pull your top on swiftly. “The sitter?” You question. “We were supposed to be back fifty minutes ago.” He bites his lip, hastily checking the time on his phone.

Matt runs his hand through his hair anxiously. You face him, stationing hands on both his shoulders. “Matt. Breathe. Call the sitter, tell her you're sorry, and tell her you're on your way home.” Matt pauses, complying and dialing the sitter. She picks up on the second ring.

“Gloria, I am so sorry,” he breathes through the line. “We're going to the car now—be there in ten.” He rambles.

“It’s okay,” she assures. “Lacey’s sleeping. I’m glad your date went well.” She laughs. Matt thanks the woman, leaning his head back with relief.

“Everything’s okay. Let’s go see your girl.” You urge, collecting your last belongings and leaving the room.

Matt drives back quickly, fast enough to have you questioning if half the turns he’s made are legal. You exit the car to his complex's elevator, Matt taking fast-quick strides. “Lacey is fine,” you reassure, feigning his anxiousness. “Lacey's fine.” He repeats. You can tell he’s trying to believe the words coming out of his mouth.

Matt bursts into his apartment door like a man possessed, scaring poor Gloria, whose neck snaps to the door immediately. “In her crib?” Matt asks. Gloria nods. You follow Matt down the hall to Lacey’s room.

Matt pauses when he sees her sleeping soundly in her crib, exhaling deeply.

You snake your arms around his torso, lulling him into a hug. “See, she’s fine.” You hum. Matt melts against your touch, resting his head beside yours. “You’re amazing,” he mumbles, pulling you closer to him.

“Where’s Mama?” Lacey lisps, crossing her stubby arms. Matt groans; he’s sitting on the floor, across from his one-year-old with a clear attitude problem. “Y/N is at work,” he claims, handing Lacey her toy ball, which she refuses, claiming incoherently that she “only wants mama.”

This soon turns into wailing. Matt, unsure how to console his daughter, pinches his eyes shut when her plastic ball hits his face. He looks at her disapprovingly, which only makes her sob harder. “Is it nap time?” He asks, tilting his head towards the toddler. “Nap with mama.” Lacey huffs.

He sighs deeply, turning his head when he hears the door click open. “Hey! I got out early today,” you say, closing the door gently behind you. “That’s nice. Lacey's being a little demon,” he jests.

“Maaaama,” she babbles, scooting your way. You meet her halfway, picking her up. “Hi, baby.” You coo. “You're being mean to your daddy?” Matt laughs, pointing to the red ball, now across the room. “She threw that at me.” He laughs.

You gasp, feigning shock. “Did she?” You laugh. Matt nods, a smile plastered on his face.

“Oh! I have some good news.” You recall, setting Lacey down. She protests lightly but is quickly drawn back into her toys.

Matt stands, locking eyes with yours. He hums, signaling he’s listening. “They finished my apartment.” You point. His jaw clenches slightly. “And…?”

“And I wanted to talk to you about it…” You say, questioning your decision to bring the topic up. Matt picks Lacey up from behind, having her face you, she immediately reaches for you cooing gibberish. “You’re really going to move away from her.” He pouts playfully.

You pause. “You want me to stay?”

Matt nods. “Yeah. Maybe you should move in—just for Lacey.” He kisses you softly, holding Lacey sandwiched between the two of you. “Yeah, for Lacey.” You laugh.

hellooo I have a request for Spencer x bombshell! reader (I'm not sure if you've done this before and if you have I apologise!!) but like they're on a case and one of them gets pretty badly hurt somehow & then the other is really worried about them & stuff and then I'm not sure (I think this could be good but not the way that I have spoken about it and so I'm very very sorry!!)

u r so awesome don’t worry!!

cw canon typical violence and injury

Everything is crisp and quiet at the precipice of the stakeout. You adjust your gun where it’s poised over the roof of an SUV away from a moving officer’s body. The negotiator adjusts the megaphone at their thigh nervously, waiting for Hotch’s go ahead. You’re all waiting for it. A hand raised, sending you in, hostage recovered, a long case coming to a short close. 

“Don’t forget your leg,” Spencer says to you under his breath. 

“Trust me, babe, I can’t forget it,” you say back, glancing quickly at him to your left. He’s facing forward, trained on the window where you’d last seen the unsub. The distance between you both and the danger is small, less than three feet of space. You and Spencer don’t have a clear shot, the agent’s behind you better equipped and better trained, but you can make do in a pinch. 

“Hurting?” he whispers. 

“Half as bad as it was yesterday.” 

“I have a bad feeling.” 

“Yeah?” You follow Hotch’s hand. The negotiation begins. You and Spencer don’t talk again. 

The unsub is sour, the victim terrified. When the screaming inside begins in earnest, the FBI rolls inside, confident in taking down the unsub, if a little worried about the victims wellbeing. You and Spencer sweep in less than ten inches away from each other, unafraid, and you don’t see the sledgehammer until it’s hitting you in the jaw, spraying blood like dark ink over Spencer’s pale cheek. 

—

“I don’t care if that’s what you recommend.” A drag of a soft touch somewhere on your skin. “Sincerely. I want a second opinion.” 

“It’s a mandibular fracture, we have a suitable follow up procedure.” 

“I understand, but I’m doing what she’d want me to do. When she wakes up, she’ll say the same thing, and so there’s no point in starting the paperwork for a procedure she won’t agree to.” 

“I doubt her cosmetic preferences will outweigh functionality.” 

It’s Spencer’s voice, Spencer’s hand on your leg. He’s reaching back to hold you as he defends you. “Respectfully, you don’t know her. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. She needs peace and quiet.” 

The doctor harrumphs but leaves. Quiet is restored, and for a while you doze, the only thing at your attention Spencer’s hand where it climbs. He takes your hand. You know his fingers well where they twine between yours. 

A few hours pass by in sluggish slee, the bed elevated to an uncomfortable sitting position. 

“Hey?” he asks, fingertips to the hill of your shoulder. “Are you waking up?” 

You can’t make your mouth form words. Your eyes flash open in shock.

“Hey, don’t panic. I’m sorry, I’m going to explain, but please don’t panic.” 

You wait. 

Spencer stands in a rumpled shirt, hair in his eyes, glasses slipping down his nose. “Your jaw is broken, fractured, actually, pretty badly. You’ve had so much pain relief over the last few hours I’m surprised you can even open your eyes, and it’s good you’re struggling to move your mouth because it would only hurt anyways.” He claps your arm gently. “I’m sorry. I’m not going anywhere though, okay? I’m right here.” 

That’s not what scares you; you know Spencer’s gonna stay. It’s not a question. 

Your hand strays up to your face. 

“It’s not bad,” he swears, and perhaps lies. 

“Spence,” you manage, a croak that aches and lisps at once. 

“It’s okay,” he says, leaning down. “Please don’t get upset.” 

You blink tearfully. You don’t remember what happened, just the flash of pain and now Spencer looking down at you like you’re wounded. He sits carefully on the side of your bed and grabs you by the waist, two hands on your sides and arms resting on your stomach, like a hug that hasn’t crept forward. 

“You won’t like the bruise,” he says apologetically. 

“Bad?” you whisper. 

“It’s all the way up to your eye. He also chipped two of your teeth… I’m so sorry, angel. It was my fault.” He thumbs your ribs. “I’ll fix everything. I already talked to your dentist, and tonight they’re coming back to talk about your plastics because the blow split your skin, okay? But you're mostly fixed already.” 

“‘M I… still pretty?” you ask. 

“Still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he says, not half as shyly as he’d usually would. 

You cry panicked, dribbly tears. He rubs shapes into your sides and swears again that it’ll all be okay, and it’s not that you don’t believe him, it’s just that it’s really starting to hurt. 

“Had a bad feeling,” he says, wiping your tears as gently as he can before they can wet the bandaging on your jaw.

“Did you get him for me?” you ask. 

Morgan clears his throat from the doorway to announce his arrival, a coffee cup in hand, pastry bag hanging between his pinky and marriage finger. He sounds like he’s about to laugh, “Did you, lover boy?” He beams at you. “I’ve never seen him pistol whip someone before. You would’ve loved it.”

You groan in agony. Missing out on seeing that is almost as bad as breaking your jaw. 

“I’ll recreate it for you,” Spencer promises. 

“And now it’s time for him to eat,” Morgan says, putting the pastry bag on the bed, “and get some sleep. He hasn’t slept in the two days you’ve been in here.”

“I had important stuff to take care of,” he says, rubbing your side. “While you couldn’t do it yourself.”

“Sleep,” you insist through your achy mouth.

Spencer’s eyes go soft and sad. “I will.”