๋࣭ ⭑if i ever were to lose you ๋࣭ ⭑

...when it's just me against the sky...

—

ok i am tireddddd of trying to model her hand wraps. fuck bezier curves all my homies hate bezier curves so I'm taking the coward's way out and just concealing them with a convenient camera angle <3

i understand people have different relationships with sex. i am not here to police people's kinks, or kink shame, or tell people what they can and cannot write or do in their bedrooms. it is, however, really disheartening to see people who otherwise do not speak on the topic of assault ever (and therefore lead me to believe they themselves have not been assaulted, which may be an ignorant claim but i think is a fair conclusion to come to given context clues) not only engage in posting cnc content, but fail to even give any warning.

you can call me sensitive, or say that the world isn't going to have trigger warnings everywhere in life. i don't really care. if you have time to add tags, to edit your work, to add photos and fancy text and links, you have time to put an explicit and clear content warnings. my trauma is not your kink to put on my timeline with no warning. i'm tired of having to do damage control when i see triggering content i could have otherwise avoided. it's not fair to survivors, whether you are one or not.

word count: 1.3K

Abby Anderson had become the majority of your TikTok ‘For You’ page at this point.

‘For You’ was truly accurate in this scenario… as much as you hated to admit it.

You hovered over every lifting video that came up in your feed, swiping through the random weekly dumps that she incorporated for fun. Despite her growing following on the account, Abby didn’t act like an influencer. She kept it weirdly authentic.

She really only responded to the same few people in her comment section– MannyMan, YouOweMe, and misandristmel, just to name a few. So you didn’t even bother trying, instead choosing to scroll through the countless reaction pictures and girls attempting to woo Abby over with mirror selfies.

She clearly paid them no attention– at least publicly.

Abby’s content really just kept to herself, with just a few close friends appearing in her videos. She didn’t tag any of them, but you put two and two together– MannyMan was Manny, YouOweMe was Owen, and misandristmel was Mel. Easy as that.

You occasionally watched her livestreams– funnily enough, they were usually just short streams of her playing video games with Manny, sometimes with Owen accompanying in the back. She seemed unfazed by the influx of followers, not caring to tend to the audience and continuing to post what she wanted to.

andersonlifts is live!

Your finger hovered over the notification before you clicked, vision tunneling in the chaos of the room to drown out the endless chatter from your friends. You lowered your volume, eyes scanning over the screen. Abby was, for once, doing a gym livestream. She laughed as she clapped Manny on the back, stepping over to the lifting rack to position herself under the bar to start her leg routine. You gnawed at your bottom lip as you leaned back against the couch, a slight smile pulling at your lips. She looked so good, and even better knowing everything was unedited. You got to see the slight shake of her legs as she warmed up, the flush of her cheeks, her soft laughs as Manny’s mouth moved soundlessly behind her from where he stood as spotter.

“What are you watching?”

You nearly jumped at the voice of your friend, Erin, quickly flipping your phone over to set it on the cushion beside yourself. She placed a drink in your hand, eyebrows knitted together at your sudden reaction.

“Just… a TikTok,” you managed, shrugging as you took a sip from the cup. She nodded, hesitating before her hand darted out to pull your phone out of reach.

“Erin,” you groaned, reaching for the device. You had forgotten to lock it. Of course.

“And who is this?” She asked, smirking as she clicked on Abby’s profile. She scrolled to select a video where you could actually see Abby’s face more properly, eyes widening at the unintentional thirst trap. You yourself had nearly choked on your water the first time you saw it, bursting into a coughing fit that had you raising a hand to reassure your coworker that you were completely fine. 

“Oh fuck– she’s hot,” Erin managed out with a laugh, grinning at your phone as you settled your face in your free hand, feeding yourself another sip of your drink.

“So… have you messaged her?”

“Why the hell would I do that?” You palmed your phone out of her grasp, making sure to lock the device before shoving it under your thigh so it was safely out of her grasp.

“Because… she’s hot, and why not? You’ve been single for almost a year now. You have to get back in the game somehow. And what’s the harm in messaging a TikToker?”

You groaned softly as you sank back into the couch, lips pulling into a simple pout at the mention of your lack of a relationship. A sore subject, since your ex and her girlfriend had started dating immediately following your breakup…

“Because it’s creepy, Erin,” you managed out, pinching at the bridge of your nose as you took another sip.

She shrugged as she mirrored your action before swirling the cup slightly in her hand, staring blankly into the liquid.

“Give me your phone,” she suddenly spoke, earning a confused look from you.

“No,” you said simply, shaking your head at the girl.

“Give. Me. Your. Phone.”

“I. Said. No.”

It was seconds before Erin was crawling over your lap, her drink placed on the table so she could use both hands to pry the device out from under your leg. You shrieked as you attempted to grab it from her, or grab her– anything– but the girl was too damn sneaky.

She shot down the hall like a bullet misfired, nearly slamming into the wall as she rounded the corner and threw herself into the bedroom at the end, locking the door behind herself.

You ran after her, fist banging on the door.

“Erin, I swear to GOD. If you do any freaky shit, I am putting nair in your shampoo!” Your voice was a snarl through the door, earning a string of giggles from the girl on the other side.

Her giggles suddenly ceased, followed by absolute silence in the room. Oh she was up to something. Some nefarious bullshit.

You groaned as you turned your back to the door, sliding down the wood to rest your head in your hands. You looked up briefly to find some of the girls from Erin’s soccer team staring, one of them shooting you a weak smile before turning back to the girls to burrow back into a conversation. Great. Just great.

Fifteen minutes later, Erin emerged from the room. She placed your phone back in your hands, lips pulled into a tight line as she beelined for the group in the living room.

You watched her walk down the hall, eyebrows furrowed as you unlocked your phone. You checked TikTok. Nothing. Your messages. Nothing. Instagram was next…

You were going to fucking kill Erin.

“Erin!” You began to yell, beelining for the living room with your phone held above your head.

“What the fuck did you do?!”

Erin eyed you with a smirk, batting her eyelashes innocently.

“Nothing. I did absolutely nothing, my sweetest best friend,” she spoke in the saccharine-sweet tone that she used when she was being an absolute menace of a human being.

You threw your hands above your head, storming into your room and slamming the door shut behind you.

You weren’t actually mad at her. You were just… horrifically embarrassed that your friend had catfished your internet crush… as you… and to make matters worse, she had actually responded.

Your cat lifted her head at the sudden slam of the door, blinking slowly and letting out a loud meow at the sight of you. The two of you never worried about the apartment being too loud, given that Loulie was fully deaf. You approached the antique chair she was curled up on, rubbing between her ears and pressing a kiss into the fluff on her jaw.

“My pretty girl,” you mumbled into her fur, knowing she couldn’t quite hear you but could at least feel the vibrations.

She purred softly at your touch, sinking against you with a happily stirring tail.

You shifted to sit on the rug in front of the chair, positioning yourself so that your head rested against Loulie’s body to remain in contact with her. You hesitated before opening back up Instagram again, groaning softly at the situation you were now stuck in. 

You shifted slightly to face the chair, waving your hand slightly to gain Loulie’s attention until she looked at you, blinking slowly as her tail swayed beside her.

Holy shit. You were texting Abby Anderson.

a/n: guys. guys i do not know where this came from. i randomly wanted to write a funny famous abby x fan. and settled on this. i am having SO MUCH FUN!!! thank you to my sweetest cherry ( @sapphicbae )for her help figuring out the instagram dm generator . i had WAY too much fun with this... clearly. i used blinkies.cafe for the silly little animated headers!!! as always, please feel free to send me requests! i'm writing all these side series to hopefully push through my writers block... we'll see!

Dr!Abby Anderson x Wife!Research assistant!Reader

Summary: You meet your now wife, Dr. Abby Anderson, working at Seattle Hospital as a Lab Specialist. 8 years and a marriage later, your life could not have been more perfect. What happens when your wife is destined on carrying out a silly little prank war?

warnings: 18+ mentions/themes of smut, not proof read

word count: 2k

AN: this is my first post back on tumblr in forever. I don’t foresee myself necessarily posting fics here fully time, but post the occasional fic that i am extra proud of. I still am really only posting on AO3 (sevikasplanet).

hope you enjoy.

Sevika x Reader (afab) smut

Kinktober

an: uh hi! it’s been a real long time & i come back bearing very filthy smut as promised HAHA

warnings: breeding kink 🤓

Ragged breaths escape your plush lips, dry from exhaustion. Eyes tilted up and back, unable to keep focus as the brute above you thrusts her hips in an ungodly manner.

i promise you will improve in your technique as time goes on, but using an ai to "clean up" your writing inherently makes whatever work you just put in null and void. i don't post on here, but i am a writer, so this isn't me bashing anyone, it is simply a gentle yet tempered suggestion. i can't stop people from using something that has become grossly accessible in less than two years, but i can implore people to not engage with it.

MINORS, AGELESS BLOGS AND MEN DNI

cassie mckay x masculine!teacher!reader

series masterlist

summary: you’re leading your middle school baseball team to the Allegheny County middle school baseball championship. With Harrison Ashcroft as your star pitcher and favorite student, you recount all the times you’ve noticed his mom, Cassie McKay. Known to be a heartbreaker yourself, you find yourself falling back into your lover ways. Cassie Mckay will do that to people, especially you.

authors note: hey gang! it’s been a very long time since the last time i’ve put out a work. lots have changed to say the least #deaddadclub lol. on the brighter side, i’ve finally sat down and wrote. i’ve watched the pitt since season one came out and wanted to write something for my baby. no clue on what a posting schedule will look like, but im excited to try this again. i hope you all have been well and enjoy.

The cool breeze was a nice break from the early summer heat at the Allegheny Middle School baseball field. The sound of encouraging parents, giggly younger siblings hyped up on sugar-filled candy, and the fresh crack of a baseball bat overwhelmed your ears. The hot sun rays tanning your skin reminds you to reapply your sunscreen at the top of the inning. The field was freshly tended and ready for the Allegheny Astros championship run, the first in over twenty years. You were the school’s beloved gym coach. In addition, you also found yourself coaching girls basketball in the winter and baseball in the spring. Teachers ask you all the time how you do it, but you love your little gremlins too much to not. There was something so rewarding seeing these awkward kids grow to love a sport and their teammates just the same. Being there for all spotting milestones is what carried you through the long nights and even longer games on the weekends.

The shrill of the umpire's whistle snapped you back into reality. It was the bottom of the 8th inning and the Astros just needed to get the job done. You noticed your star pitcher, Harrison, getting ready to head out to the pitchers mound. To say you didn’t have a soft spot for this kid would be a bold-face lie. Harrison had been very reluctant to start playing on your baseball team when you had encouraged it. He is a very shy kid, so the idea of being in the spotlight really did not look appealing. Yet, the look on his face after his first strikeout of the season made you feel whole. You seemingly were not the only one who was excited at his new found hobby. His father, Chad, was especially ecstatic that his son picked up the sport (and you could tell).

Chad was your least favorite kind of parent. The man showed up to every game parading his far-too-young girlfriend just to backseat-coach. Oftentimes, yelling at Harrison like he’s the general manager of the Pirates. You had a no bullshit policy for parents like these, but once Harrision let you know just why his mom couldn’t make it to games, you had to suck it up and be cordial with that asshole.

You had only spoken to Cassie McKay via quick texts and phone calls. On the days Harrison had with Cassie, you had made an agreement to drop him off at his grandparents after practice. Although you had limited interactions, the auburn woman had stayed on your mind. You had wondered how different Cassie would be from her horrible ex-husband. With the way Harrison talked about his mom, and how sweet of a boy he is, you had figured it had to come from her and only her. To your surprise, you look up in the stands to see a flustered Cassie McKay. She is wearing a black, short-sleeved scrub top with her matching scrub bottoms, assumingly had just rushed here after her shift at PTMC. Her jaw lazily chewing on a piece of gum directs your eyes to her gold chain shimmering in the sunlight; a bead of sweat rolls down her neck. Her strong hands wringing a plastic water bottle as her knee can’t help but jitter. You quickly shake the thought of thirsting over your work-kid’s mom and get back to the very important task at hand. You grab Harrison’s attention before he heads to the mound.

“Hey kid, no matter what happens out there I just want you to know how lucky I am to have you on my team. Go out there and let that shit fly, alright? C’mon here we go!” You tap his helmet with a huge smile.

Harrison giggles at the cuss word flying out of your mouth. You have a habit of letting those “bad words” loose during games.

“That’s a dollar in the jar!” Harrison yells to you as he runs to the mound.

You had promised the team you’d add a dollar to the swear jar for every cuss word you’ve said during the season. The kids decided to use the money for a team barbeque at your house. For some reason middle schoolers are obsessed with knowing every intimate detail about their teachers, including where they live. You shake your head and laugh at the boy in front of you. The second whistle to signal the start of the inning leaves the umpire's mouth. Harrison lets out a long exhale before throwing the first pitch. Ball. You see the call start to weigh in on the kid. You clap your hands and hope Harrison can shake it off.

“It’s okay, baby! You got this!” A loud voice emerges from the stands. Your head turns to the sound to see Cassie cheering her boy on.

Harrison’s eyes light up in excitement for a moment as he sees his mom watching. With another deep breath, he prepares his second pitch.

“Strrrriiiike!” The umpire's voice booms and the bench goes wild.

Harrison looks over to you and all you do is nod with a smile. He’s back in his zone and you know it.

The next pitch and the pitch after that ends with the same fate, and Harrison is on fire. Your eyes can’t help but gravitate towards the beaming smile Cassie McKay has. Her pure pride emanating from her tired eyes makes your assumptions of her feel correct. Her eyes meet yours for a brief second and you feel your breath hitch. A small wink from the lady with the bangs causes your stomach to flip. In a brief panic you awkwardly wave back towards her. Before you could see her reaction, your eyes snapped back towards the field.

“Get it the fuck together” you whisper to yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, Cassie found this fairly amusing and definitely endearing. She had only heard the best things about you from Harrison, which started the pique in interest. At first when her son came home asking about starting baseball, Cassie was skeptical. Not that she hated the sport; she’s a huge Pirates fan. Harrison just never particularly brought up an interest in playing the sport on his own. Of course, when she was with Chad, he had dreams of white picket fences and playing catch with his kid. She had hoped that her son’s father would not force him into finding something in common. But then, she saw you. It was a parent teacher conference night and she was able to bribe Shen to come in an hour earlier to relive her. Being an R3 at her age comes with its struggles, and having a 12 year old son complicates that. You were talking to a parent intently when she passed by the gym with her son; Harrison had caught your eye. You sent him a subtle wink as he passed and the boy immediately smiled seeing his favorite teacher. You were dressed in your school sanctioned polo with grey slacks and loafers. Your hair was slicked back, and out of your face. A very simple, yet professional attire for the evening meetings. Yet, all Cassie could stare at was the way your shirt hugged your arms. Or how your thighs filled out your well fitted slacks. She swore she almost passed out when you turned to the side to see how firm your ass was. She shook her head and tried not to think about how she’s perving out on her kids' teacher. Let alone perving out on her kid’s teacher who had to be at least a decade younger than her. Ever since that night, Harrison was not the only one who was obsessed with you. She spent an embarrassing amount of time stalking your Facebook account (she will never admit to). This led to her finding your coaching account on instagram. It looks like during your downtime, you personal train clients and athletes in the greater area. This revelation had her drooling from more places than one. Your account was filled with you hitting PRs; muscles flexing and gleaming with your sweat. And grunting. How could she forget about the whines, groans, and moans that left your plump lips. Just thinking about it makes her stomach flip and her legs weak. As much as she tried, she couldn’t help but watch you.

Then came the text messages. Once the ride agreement was made, you would make sure to keep her updated on when her son made it home safe. This then turned into you setting up a live stream for her to watch games while on break after a very thoughtful text she had sent you.

Cassie hadn’t been able to make any games during the season due to her rigorous work schedule. This caused many nights of tears and frustration; feeling like a failure of a mother, she picked up the phone to text you. She doesn’t make a habit of pouring her heart out to strangers, but she was a little sleep deprived and a whole lot stressed. You had been so sweet with her in reassuring that despite her not making it, Harrison was okay. This had your heart aching with the itch to make the mom feel included. The next day you tried to play it off to the district that many families were asking for live recordings of the games. Yet deep down, you really just wanted Harrison to know his mom could be watching. You couldn’t be more happy for Harrison to have his mom here at the big game…and a little selfishly for yourself too.

The next two at-bats were a clean sweep with Harrison throwing a complete shutdown. You throw your clipboard to the ground and run to the mound at the sound of the final whistle. Your boys had become Allegheny county champions! Your kids damn near trample you embrace them.

“Holy shit guys! I knew you could do it!” You hug your team.

A collective “Swear jar!” erupts from the boys and you cackle.

“I’ll put fifty in the jar just for today, how about that?” You giggle as the boys go crazy.

Your cheeks hurt from all the smiling you’ve done after the medal ceremony; the cheap engraved zinc alloy still hung around your neck like an olympic gold medal. These moments you have with these kids keep you going in your darkest of days. You try not to spiral as you start to collect all of the equipment to bring back to your car. Moments like these are when you wish you had someone at home to share with. The meaningless sex at the end of the day is just that– meaningless. Before you could think any harder, you hear your name called from behind.

“I came to finally find out for myself how great the world famous Allegheny Astros coach is for myself. Not that I’m not enjoying this view though.” Says a raspy voice from none other than Cassie McKay.

Your eyes damn near pop out of your head at the very forward flirting attempt from Harrison’s mother. Let’s be real here. You are the furthest thing from being dense. You were no stranger to parents and coworkers alike hitting on you. You weren’t a prude with it either. You were a lover at heart, but after your last heart break, you decided to explore more…fun options. You’ve had flings with a few of your coworkers in the past, which you unfortunately learned makes for really awkward teacher inservice days. Nonetheless, you never felt any connection deeper than the physical with them. None of them could have gotten close to making you feel the way Cassie McKay makes you feel. You haven’t indulged in the feeling for a few very obvious reasons. You value your relationship as a coach and teacher to all of your kids, especially Harrison, Cassie is at least ten years your senior, and there is no way this woman is gay.

You place the ball bag on the ground and walk closer to Cassie.

“I was wondering when I’d get to meet you too, Dr.Mckay.” You smile, trying to remain somewhat professional. There’s no way she meant to be flirty, right?

“Oh please, just call me Cassie, sweetheart. I get enough of that at work.” Her kind eyes and smile make it hard to look away. Her soft lips make it even harder for you to stop imagining them all over.

“Sorry, Cassie it is then. I’m really happy you could make it-I mean I am sure Harrison was super happy you could make it.” You flush, wishing for the field to swallow you whole.

“He has really grown from the start of the season and I really do think we’ve got something special going on.” You smile even harder at the thought of Harrison’s potential.

Cassie finds your enthusiasm endearing and could not have wanted someone better in her son’s life.

“We really could not have done it without you. I mean I know my work schedule really isn’t ideal, but having you in his corner really means something to me, ya know?” Cassie smiles a real and genuine smile that reaches her eyes. You make a note to yourself wanting to make her do that more often.

“I would do anything for that kid and you’ve got my word. These kids really do mean everything to me so really, thank you for letting me help in any way.” You reach your arm out to Cassie’s bicep. Her eyes flicker back to yours as the both of you can’t find it in yourself to move.

Harrison’s laugh breaks the both of you out of your trance as you realize most of the families have cleared the stadium. You clear your throat and look anywhere but at the beautiful woman ahead. Cassie then reaches back out to your belt loop, lightly tugging to grab your attention. The both of you now face to face.

“Let me cook you dinner sometime? Ya know, thank you for everything.” She smirks as you feel your mouth go completely dry. Before you could find the words, you nod like an idiot.

“Uh yeah, yeah I would like that.” You mutter out.

“I’ll text you, yeah? I promised the kid Chili’s for the win.”