#and I reached a point where I was like holy shit I can’t do this anymore I would hurt too many people

[polyamorouspunk]

Honestly I could use a pep talk. This week the positive/negative whiplash has been horrible

Grace my love you have been such a comforting presence in my and a lot of other people’s lives. I’m so, so sorry that things haven’t been going spectacular for you but as I’ve said to you, having someone who is going through a lot of the same things that I am makes me feel so much less alone. I really, really hope that we can find some consistency in it all. Today when I was driving home I was thinking of that cliche “if you could have any superpower what would it be” and I thought “I wish I could control my emotions”. And I thought… that’s not a superpower. That’s something “normal” people can do. But I feel like I can’t. But maybe more things are in my control than I realize. Sometimes I do think that I make excuses for myself. And that’s not to say that we as human beings can control everything in our lives. In fact, it’s what we CAN’T control that brings us stress. Like other people changing their minds about plans and shit 😅 but that’s what makes us dynamic. That’s what makes us human. So I guess, you know, I would be bored or whatever if everything was easy and my life is perfect. I mean, we all need a little drama, right? Like the harmless kind. Like when you go through the drive-through and they give you the wrong order. It’s humbling. It gives us something to complain about. Like, I didn’t fuck up badly to warrant an entire Netflix show about it. At least it’s not THAT bad yet. And I mean. We have all, everyone here, made it through the worse times of our lives already. And sure, there’s every chance the worst thing that’s ever going to happen to us hasn’t happened yet (especially those of us who haven’t reached 25 yet) but honestly as I look back I feel like everything that really sticks out as bad to me isn’t more or less worse than the thing before or after it. It’s just the most present, so it’s the one that hurts them most. I’m GLAD I’m not 16, 18, 20 anymore, even if I had things then I wish I had now and have pain now I didn’t have then. Sometimes the things I have to look forward to don’t feel like enough but what is the alternative? I just have to keep going. I can’t give up. We can’t give up. We have to keep fighting. I refuse to be the one that knocks me down.

[hawnks]

It’s not a date. You make that known, loud and clear from the outset.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gojo murmurs absently. “Whatever you say sweetie.”

It’s not a date when he picks you up from your apartment. It’s not a date when he insists you change out of your ratty sweats, or when he buys you a new outfit to his exacting standards (how did he know your measurements?).

It’s not a date when he treats you to Fancy Lunch, or when he splits his desert with you, feeding you from his own fork.

It’s not a date when he takes your hand, doesn’t let go.

And it’s definitely not a date when you finally arrive at the luxury leathergoods store, the whole point of this outing. He hovers around you, watching. He seems to be waiting on you to do something, but since he’s the one who insisted on this you’re not sure what he wants.

Finally he’s had enough of you floundering.

“Pick one,” he murmurs, eyes bright as he corals you to the collar section.

Suddenly your throat is dry as you look down the long row of them. Shiny and bold. Precious. “You want me to… pick a collar for you?”

He’s watching you, keen and hungry. He’s so close you can feel the heat of him all along your side where he’s huddled against you.

Collars have a huge significance to omegas, but you’re not quite in tune with their cultural meaning. Something about ownership, claim. You feel like you should reject this, whatever he’s trying to do here. It’s not right, and you’re not right for each other. This is a job for someone who knows what they’re doing, and besides that, someone of his social standing. You should tell him as much.

But you don’t.

You spend long minutes poring over the options. Feeling the material, testing it’s texture. Careful, you choose one with a soft inner lining, that won’t catch on the neck of his button downs, that won’t chafe when he’s running around. A subtle color, unobtrusive in his loud, bold life.

(He doesn’t ask you to put it on him, knowing, somehow that it would be too much for you, cause you to recede into your shell. He can be patient.)

It’s still not a date.

So you have no reason to be pissy when yet another alpha taps him on the shoulder, says some cheesy line about his eyes.

Gojo just snorts, rolling his eyes, not even gracing the man with a response as he pulls you along down the sidewalk, talking about what to get for dinner.

But this is the fourth time it’s happened today, and you feel like you’ve reached your limit.

You yank out of his grasp.

Immediately, he makes a grab for your hand again, scowling when you pull away, no longer acquiescing to his whims.

“What?” he demands, “What is it?”

“You could be a little more put off by it,” you say finally. It sounds petulant even to your own ears. “Like… offended, or whatever.”

It takes him a second to realize what you’re talking about.

“Comes with the territory, sweetheart,” he drawls. He’s smiling, but you can tell he’s unhappy with your peevishness. Why are you denying him? Are you disturbed by what he is, too? “Omega and all that.”

You shift on your feet, uncomfortable with your own discomfort. “How often do alphas hit on you, anyway?”

He freezes. Grins. “Are you jealous?”

You can’t even get out a denial before he’s grabbing you, spinning you both in a bear hug. “Holy shit that’s so hot, baby,” he moans.

He’s got you by the shoulders as he starts dragging you down a side street, not at all in the direction of the station you were supposed to part ways at.

“Gojo, what are you doing?”

“Making it up to you,” he says, pinching your cheek. “I think I saw a hotel this way earlier.”

[princessbrunette]

this is so specific but we all know that grey coors light muscle tank that jj wears in season 1 i’m pretty sure, but imagine him waking up to reader wearing that shirt NO BRA dude would go fully teenage boy mode and just stare at your chest cause like HELLO THEY ARE ALMOST SPILLING OUT

˖⁺‧₊˚🐈‍⬛˚₊‧⁺˖

he wakes up quite literally a minute before you, sitting up on his side of the bed as he wakes up fully, rubbing his hands over his eyes. he didn’t remember falling asleep that night, just that he’d passed out after giving it to you for a solid hour, sweaty and spent. he hasn’t even noticed you yet, more so what you’re wearing — because when you stir and he turns half around to check on you, he quite literally forgets how to breathe.

you’re on your back, blankets jostled around your legs as you stretch— eyes still blissfully shut. you must’ve pulled his shirt on before you’d fallen asleep, and he had to say you wore it better than he ever could. it hung loose on you, the large armhole gaping, pulled a little across your chest to the point where the fat of your tit spilled out the side, had it been peeled any further to the right and your nipple would be on display.

“good lord, good morning to me.” he rasps, yawning and your eyes flutter open, a soft smile on your face as you reach a hand toward him, stroking the skin you could reach.

“hi, jayjie.” you hum, and he’s convinced you could have called him any name — because he’s not listening to a word, eyes on your tits.

“you know i thought i looked pretty good in that shirt, but holy mother of mary you’re wearin’ the shit out of it. like, seriously. you kinda just woke my dick up too.”

you giggle, looking down at yourself with one eye as you rub the sleep out of the other. you pull the material so you’re more decent, much to his dismay.

“i forgot i put it on.” you sit up slowly, stretching once more and arching your back, hard nipples from the cool morning air sticking through the light grey fabric. he stares for another moment before he just can’t stop himself.

“i hate to ask this of you so early in the mornin’ but uh— please let me touch them.” he rushes out, eyes wide and saucepan-like and you roll your eyes tiredly, taking his hands and pressing them to your tits.

“dont have to ask, jj. they’re yours to grab whenever you want.” you pur, knowing the effect it’ll have on him. he keels over a little from his now knelt position.

“oh wow— okay, yeah saying that kinda thing is totally unfair. you know that’s gonna brick me up babe. c’mon.” he lightly scolds as he massages your chest, getting his moneys worth.

“such a shame jj… can i help you with it? the least i could do?” you flutter your lashes and gently paw at his chest so he lays back down, quickly sliding down his body and dropping kisses to his pelvis making his jaw drop.

“its like i made you in a freaking lab… jesus.”

“i just like breakfast in bed, jayj.” you giggle, starting to mouth at his tip as he reaches full stiffness. he tucks his tongue between his lips with a smile as he watches you, before commenting quietly.

“yeah. sausage n’eggs right? ow— okay, that’s my bad.” he’s met with your teeth sinking into his thigh.

˖⁺‧₊˚🐈‍⬛˚₊‧⁺˖

[megantheebaddest]

Drunk In Love

Summary: Reader gets so drunk at the club she “needs” her best friend in a way he can’t give her.

A/n: Sorry i have been MIA.. Please enjoy my first fic about Drew 😍

“Holy shit dude, Y/n is fucking wasted!” Rudy yelled into Drew’s ear, pointing in your direction. Drew’s eyes immediately following where he was pointing. You were grinding with some strangers you just met a few moments prior. He shook his head grinning at you. He always found it entertaining when your little light weight self drank one too many.

“I’m pretty sure she just met those girls like 2 minutes ago” Rudy added, laughing. Drew laughed, nodding his head agreeing with him. He couldn’t help but watch your every move as he sipped on his beer. God, you looked gorgeous in his eyes. Your red dress riding up your thighs, your curled hair a wild mess, your makeup slightly running. You looked like you were having the time of your life. You stumbled slightly in your risky heels and had to grab onto random strangers around you to balance yourself. You looked up and your eyes met Drew’s. He melted at the sight of you stumbling towards him.

“Drew, honey.. Hiii” you screamed, plopping down on his lap. Your voice was so raspy he could barely hear you over the music. “Hi darling, are you okay?” He asked rubbing your thigh up and down, looking at you concerned. “Mhm” you hummed leaning into his neck to nibble and leave sloppy kisses on his neck. He tensed up and froze in his tracks. He knew you had to be really drunk because this was so unlike you. You guys have only kissed one time before when you both were drunk and it was never brought up again though he thought of it often.

He pulled away looking at you with a wide smile. “What’re you doing, crazy girl?” he asked giggling. “I want you” You blurted out hiccuping, lips attaching to his neck again. He was losing his mind, he absolutely loved this but hated the fact that you are drunk.

“Y/n.. you’re drunk honey.” he said almost moaning. He pulled away again, causing you to groan in annoyance. “Are you ready to go? I can take you home?” He asked while looking you deep in your eyes. You looked back at him getting lost in his. Your eyes darted down to his lips and you started to lean in to kiss him.

“Y/n..” he said sternly, pulling back. “Come on, let’s go home.” he said patting on your legs to stand up. You rolled your eyes but got up nearly falling over. He grabbed your hand and made his way to the group saying his goodbyes and letting them know he’d be taking you home.

“What was all that about? huh?” Rudy said wiggling his eyebrows at Drew. He was lowkey excited because he always shipped you two. He could feel the tension between you guys but you both always denied it.

“You were right she is so wasted.. I’m taking her home” Drew said as he was dapping up Rudy. Rudy laughed and they said their goodbyes. You were so drunk you just waved bye to everyone. Drew grabbed your hand and led you out front to a suv that was waiting for him. He guided you in and gave the driver your address.

The second the car started moving you attached your lips to his neck yet again. This time he sharply breathed in through his teeth and closed his eyes. You were sucking and swirling your tongue around. You reached down and cupped his bulge. His eyes shot open and he moaned, quickly grabbing your hand and moving it.

“Y/n..” he breathed out.

You growled, frustrated that he wouldn’t let you touch him. “Please” you whined quietly.

“You’re drunk.. I can’t let you do this sweetheart.” he practically whined back.

“I’ll do anything. Please. For one minute?” you begged.

He licked his lips looking back and forth between both your eyes. He really wanted to do this but you were so far gone he’d never forgive himself. “I’m so sorry, We can’t baby” He said, sadness in his voice.

You scrunched your eyebrows together and shook your head, turning to look out the window.

“Please don’t be mad at me honey. I don’t want you to do something you’d regret tomorrow.” He said grabbing your thigh and rubbing circles with his thumb. You shoved his hand off and crossed your arms.

“I’m not drunk..” you quietly said, keeping your gaze out the window. He still had his eyes on you and he shook his head and laughed. You leaned your head back on the head rest and you were passed out within minutes. This was pure torture for Drew. He so wishes he could have his way with you but he knows you don’t mean it and you’ll regret all of this in the morning.

Drew woke you up once the car stopped outside your apartment. “Hmm?” you sleepily moaned. “You’re home honey, come on i’ll help you.” He said grabbing your hand. He scooted out of the car and turned around to grab both of your hands and direct you down out of the suv. You were squinting due to just waking up and being sensitive to the street lights. You stopped scooting and stared at Drew.

“You’re so pretty” you said, hiccuping. Drew smiled and pulled on your hands for you to continue getting out of the car.

“Come on lovey.” He said wrapping his arm around your waist as you laid your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes letting him be your full guide. Once you made it up to your apartment he helped you to your room, you flopped onto your fresh made bed and practically fell asleep. Drew was looking through your dresser for comfy clothes for you to wear. After finding an over sized shirt and some shorts for you he made his way over to you.

“Here love, i got you some comfy clothes” He says patting your bum lightly. You lifted your head slightly and immediately dropped it back down.

“Help me” he barely heard you mumble out.

He kneeled on the bed and undid the straps on your heels, removing them and massaging your feet briefly before unzipping the back of your dress for you “Roll over Y/n” he said giggling. Surprisingly you were able to. He slid your dress down and he was met with your perfect tits, you weren’t wearing a bra. His eyes widened as he kept pulling your dress down. He had to focus and remember why he was doing this.

You’re drunk.

He had to keep drilling that into his brain. He kept shimmying your dress down, now revealing your lace panties. His mouth was drooling but he remained focused and slid your shorts on and then put the shirt over your head, you naturally put your arms through the sleeves. He guided you up onto your pillows and tucked you into your blankets.

He gave you a kiss on your cheek before shutting your lamp off. He was caught off guard by you grabbing his wrist. “Please don’t leave me, Drew” She begged with puppy dog eyes. He looked over the entire bed and back to you. “Okay honey, i’m not going anywhere.” He said making his way to the other side of your bed.

[lovelyjj]

Can you write a JJ maybank x reader where reader lived in the outer banks her whole life, but is kind of scared of water when it comes to swimming (basically can’t swim) and on a boat or at a beach party or something someone jokingly shoves her into the water and no one’s doing anything bc it’s like, how could she not know how to swim? But JJ catches on and saves her? That would be amazinggg ❤️

Diver Down

jj maybank x reader

wc: 1,027

**some dialogue from season 1: episode 1**

The weather was nice making it a good day to go out on the boat. The sun was warm on your skin and the air was crisp. After John B picked everyone up, you and the pogues were ready for a boat day.

You sailed through the marsh and JJ said, "Let me show you a party trick."

"I got this. It's gonna work."

JJ than proceeded to hold his beer bottle out in front of him, rim pointed at his mouth and had his mouth open.

The beer flew everywhere and you were laughing.

Suddenly, the boat came to abrupt halt and JJ was flung off the boat.

"Jesus Pope!" Kie exclaimed.

After you recovered from sliding forward you asked, "You okay JJ?"

"I think my heels touched the back of my head," JJ commented.

"You ok y/n?" John B asked.

"I'm fine. Thanks."

"Pope, what did you do?" JJ questioned.

"Sandbar. The channel changed." Pope said.

"No shit." JJ exclaimed.

Pope was standing up staring at the water when he said,"Guys I think there's a boat down there."

"Shut up."

"No way."

"No, no, guys. I'm serious. There's a boat down there."

"It's a boat," Pope pointed.

"Holy shit, he's right. let's go." Kiara commented.

Everyone jumped into the water to go and check out the boat. You stayed where you were sitting on the HMS pogue.

When everyone resurfaced from the water they were all buzzed.

"You guys saw that right." JJ exclaimed.

"Yeah I did." Kiara voiced.

"That's a Grady-White. A new one of those is like 500 Gs, easy." JJ announced.

Everyone climbed back on the boat.

"Why didn't you come down with us?" Kiara asked.

"I didn't want to get my hair wet," you lied.

Kiara looked at you skeptical but then let it go.

John b was digging out the anchor when JJ announced, "Well, i'm not resuscitating you. I'm just making that clear up front."

You started getting up to see John B dive but what you didn't expect was to see him making his way towards you.

"Diver down," John B speaks. Then he pushed you into the water.

You were in the middle of saying "what" when you were pushed into the water. Your words drown out by the splash.

Everyone was laughing and waiting for you to surface. However, you were struggling and no one seemed to notice except JJ.

You were slipping under the water and it was filling into your mouth making it hard to breathe.

"Y/N!" "Y/N!" JJ called out to you.

But you were drowning and couldn't hear JJ let alone answer him.

JJ saw the situation unfold and was quick to dove into the water to save you. JJ swam out to you. When he reached you he started to panic. He didn't know what to do or how to help.

When he saw you submerged under the water he acted on instinct. He swiftly came to your rescue. He got a hold of you in the water and lifted you up.

"Stay with me y/n. Stay with me." JJ yelled.

JJ carried you to the boat. Somewhat struggling to swim with you in his arms. Kiara had her hand out and you took it. She hoisted you up back on the boat.

JJ got himself back on the boat.

"Holy shit y/n i'm so sorry." John B apologized.

You were bent over coughing up a storm.

"It's okay John B you didn't know." Your voice came out hoarse.

"You scared the shit out of me." JJ expressed.

You gave JJ a exasperated look.

"JB your an idiot!" JJ exclaimed.

"Hey man I really am sorry," John B trailed off.

JJ went in search of a blanket. When he found one he made his way over to you. He wrapped you up in a blanket and rubbed your arms over the blanket.

"Let me warm you up," JJ spoke.

"JJ your soaking wet too."

"Never mind that."

JJ came and sat down next to you. You felt grateful for JJ, grateful that he saved you. You found a new appreciation for him. He has always been there for you right when you needed him.

"Thank you for saving me J."

"It's no problem baby. I'm just glad your alright," JJ spoke.

baby.

He calls you that sometimes and it makes your stomach flip. You turned towards JJ and gave him one of your breathtaking smiles.

JJ's heart just about stopped from the way you were looking at him. When you were looking at him like that, how could he not be in love.

JJ put his arm around you and you snuggled into his warmth. The other pogues were distracted doing other things keeping their attention elsewhere, giving you two privacy.

With the pogues looking away, JJ released his arm around you and began to cup your face. He used his thumb to stroke your cheek. JJ's heart was palpitating and he was excited and eager to kiss you.

The kiss however was tentative and delicate. JJ placed his lips on yours so they were pressing against each other. You were both tasting one another.

The kiss than grew hungry and heated. Your lips moving against each other. Suddenly JJ slid his hand back into your hair. He tugged on the strands allowing your mouth to open in a gasp.

JJ's tongue entered your mouth in a needy rush. JJ was oozing confidence in the kiss. You were surprised when his tongue greeted you. Your tongues started to lap each other up.

Eventually, the need for air was increasing. You gently pulled back and took a big breath. Your cheeks were burning as you looked up at JJ.

JJ's palms were sweating. He removed his hand from your face and rested it on your knee. 

"Y/n, I'm in love with you and I have been for so long I just could never find the right words or right time to tell you. I'm so sorry it took me so long."

"JJ your all I ever wanted. I love you too."

"Finally!" Kiara exclaimed.

[shibaraki]

GOLDEN HOUR ┊ MIYA ATSUMU

tags: GN reader, childhood friends to lovers pipeline lol, just plain old fluff, heavy pining atsumu, reader is bleaching his hair, mildly suggestive

wc: 1K

“God, ‘Tsumu! Would you sit still?”

Dappled sunlight trickles onto the cream coloured work surface from between the tended plants sitting along the windowsill. The homeliness reminds him of Osamu’s own kitchen, treated as the true heart of the house. While quaint, your kitchen appears bigger than it is. Atsumu could stretch his legs from where he’s sitting and reach the fridge door, but he doesn’t feel crowded. The pressure from your fingers in his hair lulls him into a soft sense of contentment only to be disrupted by a sudden pinch. Nose wrinkling in his distaste, Atsumu suffers the irritating bleach odour permeating the space.

Being off-season always led to him coming home at some point or another—and ultimately, back to you.

Your first words upon seeing him after four months had been “Holy shit, look at your roots”.

Not exactly the emotional reunion he envisioned. Though the two of you soon devolved into your usual playful bickering as he yanked your hood over your head and pulled you into a long, tight hug.

Even now Atsumu barely flinches at your complaints, because you always do a terrible job keeping the laughter out of your voice. “Yer so rough,” he whines. “Be nicer to me. Thought I was ya best friend”.

“Such a baby” you tease, circling around him to reach for another hair clip, offering a full view of your attire. With the air so pleasantly warm you opted to wear some old shorts and a tank top. His eyes are instinctively drawn to your bare legs, detailing every dimple and curve down to the fluffy socks on your feet.

The dull end of your brush pokes at his skull. Atsumu’s gaze snaps to your face. “You back with me?” you say, a knowing smile crossing your lips. Heat prickled from his cheeks to his ears. “Since when is your scalp so sensitive?”

Atsumu clears his throat and you nudge a foot between his ankles to stand between his legs. He gives an indignant huff, “Since always!”

“Liar,” you curl a gloved finger around a front section of hair and tug. The sensation zips through him. He shudders and inhales sharply, enough that it gives you pause. Confined to a folding chair with an old, worn towel wrapped around his shoulders, he closes his eyes and hopes the Gods will be generous enough to have the ground swallow him up—

“Bet it was all that forty volume developer you used in highschool. I still can’t believe you”.

—It comes wrapped in your voice, supple and fond. Your movements resume without ceremony. Bristles paint bleach onto the dark roots of his hair, cold and thick. “How was I supposed’ta know not to use it?” Atsumu starts, taking your show of mercy in both hands. “The box said to mix in developer so a’ did”.

“And spent three years with a brass head ‘til I fixed it,” you muse, parsing out another section. You’re one slip away from sitting in his lap. The thought is sweltering. Your tank top rides up, flashing a swath of skin, and he can feel the blush crawling down his neck. “What would you do without me?”

Atsumu snorts as though he has not already agonised over the thought. Sleepless nights spent replaying the moment he realised that he was in love with you, under the shadow of a ginkgo tree on an early September morning while you fixed his school tie. He recalls the grain of rice still stuck to your cheek, and how your tongue peeked from between your lips in concentration—much like it is now.

You continue to apply the last of the bleach onto the roots at his crown. The clips suddenly feel tighter than they used to. He swallows against the dry in his throat. “Yeah, well. Doesn’t bear thinkin’ about,” he tells you, perhaps a little too solemnly.

There is some solace in not seeing your face as he says it. But the silence aches. You drop the brush into the mixing bowl and step back, leaving the clutch of his thighs. The air retains your heat for a few precious seconds. He hears the snap of your gloves as you pull them off. What he isn’t expecting is the palms that then cradle his cheeks.

You tilt his head, forcing him to look back, and when he does you’re frowning. Not in anger or concern. It is childishness. Atsumu gives a disgruntled noise when you push his cheeks together and force his mouth into an ugly pout.

“Oi—!”

“I’m not sure I like how you said that,” you interrupt, gaze flitting back and forth over his features intently. “I don’t know what’s happening in that brain of yours but I’m not going anywhere. We’re stuck with each other, okay?”

Atsumu blinks. His face is starting to hurt. The words hit him all at once and his heart leaps, pounding hard against his chest. Not for the first time, he has to remind himself that it’s easier to stay as you are—and the warning falls flat, drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears. When did doing the easy thing get so hard?

“M’kay,” he wheezes. You release him and smile sheepishly as he massages his jaw, eyes narrowed in a petulant glare. His feigned annoyance is quickly betrayed by the smirk pulling at his lips. “Promise you’ll do ma roots even when they’re grey?”

“I don’t know. I think you’d make a pretty good silver fox,” there’s a soft sort of intent in your eyes. Something shifts, faintly, a change that is almost palpable. “But yes,” you hold out your pinky, and Atsumu hooks your fingers together.

“I promise”.

[baekhyunsbambii]

Forbidden Waltz | Kang Yeosang

SYNOPSIS. Your university is quite well renowned for its creative and abstract programs, so it was no surprise that the majority of the students were pursuing a profession in arts. There was a focus in art, film, dance, drama, music, you could go on. These departments, however, enforced an unspoken, exclusive clique social norm. You never understood it. Thus, the student body was quite split based on their major.

PAIRING. Dance Major! Yeosang x Art Major! Reader (afab)

GENRE. enemies to lovers, mutual pining, edgy Yeosang, smut, Dom! Yeosang

WARNINGS. Profanity, NSFW, bullying themes, unprotected sex (wrap ya willy!), penetrative sex, fingering, oral (giving) semi public sex (?)

if you wanna be added to my tag list lmk! :) <3

Reqs are open!

Ever since freshman orientation, you remembered that one man’s stupid fucking face

Kang Yeosang

He was one of the most talented dancers to enter the university's program, being consistently scouted and recruited from various labels and companies

Despite this, he never paid attention to any of the offers he received

He would always gloat about how he valued the college experience more than putting himself out there for fame

You couldn't stand him. He was so full of himself.

Sure, you would admit that he was good-looking. Maybe more like exceptionally good-looking, but you would never admit that aloud

He already had the entire student body whipped for him. Not only was he phenomenal at dance but he had a charismatic personality as well

He was a magnet for people, that was for sure

quickly climbing the social hierarchy at the school, and of course, being in a completely different field of study had the two of you barely seeing one another

which was a good thing, you thought

You didn't know what it was, but something about him really bothered you

He always presented himself as a model student, he wouldn’t take anything less than perfect

In addition, he seemed to have no qualms with anyone, including departments outside of dance

He was odd, that was for sure

You swore this kid was some sort of machine from what you heard about him, it seemed too good to be true

And you were right

You have to walk past the dance department to reach your section of the art building

A practice room door is cracked open and you hear someone… punching a wall?

You poked your head in and saw none other than Yeosang slumped against the mirror, head held in his hands

“I fucking hate this goddamn school I hate all these annoying ass dickheads I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.”

Holy shit.

Mr. Perfect wasn't so perfect anymore

You were lost in your own wave of thoughts until you noticed Yeosang looking directly at you, eyes narrowed to points

“What the fuck do you want?”

He is not having it.

Who does this art nerd think they are? invading his practice room like it's some kind of open house.

“Get the fuck out,” he pulled himself upward and took a few steps toward the door where you stood

Your lips flatten into a tight line. “Sorry, sorry I’m going—,” You pulled yourself away from the door and slammed it shut

Fuck.

He was not happy.

You knew the power he held on campus too

Anxiety hit you like a bus.

What if he told people that you were a creep?? What if he got the art department to turn on you??

You vigorously shook your head, praying that nothing would come from that interaction

boy were you wrong

You swore you never saw this man on campus and now suddenly you see him everywhere??

Wherever you go— the library, dining hall, and in the unfortunately shared building between art and dance — he is always right behind you

It got to a point where you would purposefully show up early or late to places to avoid spotting the all-too-familiar brunette.

That was until he had you cornered in your art room.

“What are you doing here?” You spun around, dropping the brush in your hands and nearly kicking your easel over

“You don’t belong here—“

Yeosang slammed the studio door behind him, rattling your art supplies on the table.

You nearly jumped a foot into the air

“What the fuck!”

He simply folded his arms over his chest and leaned his body against the doorframe.

“I thought it’d do you well to have a taste of your own actions,” He yawned, his gaze followed your movements in an almost predatory manner.

“Are you serious— it was a mistake! I never meant to go into your dumbass dance studio,” you scoffed, returning your focus to the painting in front of you.

As you swiped your brush across the textured canvas, doing your best to avoid the pair of eyes burning into the back of your head, you failed to notice a shadow looming over your figure.

“Hmm, maybe you are talented after all.” Yeosang’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck, tickling your skin softly.

You leaped out of your seat, tripping and nearly knocking everything over in front of you had you not saved yourself on a nearby counter.

“Seriously Yeosang, get out.” You hissed with disdain. “I can’t focus on getting anything done when you’re—“

He advanced toward you, step by step.

You hadn’t realized how close he had gotten to you until your back hit the edge of the counter.

shit

His hands caged you against the table and you felt him tilt his head down toward you

"Hm?" His eyes raked down your body as his head leaned to the side

“Whats wrong artsy?” He wore a shit eating grin displayed across his lips.

“Yeosang Im not playing around right now I need to—!”

You were cut short as his lips crashed against yours. His hands moved from the counter to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

You found yourself frozen, before you melted into his touch.

What has gotten into you?

He pulled away for a split second to take a breath, his gaze resting on your lips.

“I didn’t take you as a rule breaker,” He chuckled lowly, his hand traveling to the side of your waist.

You hated to admit it, but something inside of you was actually enjoying this.

A dance and art student?? getting together?? never heard of.

Let alone in the middle of an art studio.

“Yeo—“

His hands gripped your sides and he lifted you onto the counter, boxing you in with his arms.

“Hmm?” He looked up at you, his eyes flashing with mischief.

“We’re in an art atudio,” you hesitated, shifting your weight around.

“And?” He leaned forward, causing you to lean backward on your hands.

“I— Isn’t this a little much?” Your eyes darted around the room, inspecting the entrances and windows.

“Not if we make this quick,” Yeosang grins up at you.

His hands make their way down to the waistband of your bottoms. His eyes meet yours, waiting for any hesitation or uncertainty.

“Y—You can.” You managed to sputter out, turning away from his gaze.

Despite looking away you could practically feel him smirking.

His fingers dipped up under your shirt, the tips of his fingers grazing over your waist before dipping down and hooking onto your waistband.

You lift yourself up slightly, allowing him to better remove the article of clothing.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed, slipping your bottoms off your ankles before tossing it aside.

“Yeo,” you whispered in a hushed tone, squeezing your fists beside you.

What a tease.

His fingers travel down your stomach to the innermost part of your thighs, tracing delicate patterns along your skin.

You whined in response, tensing your legs together as if to create some sort of friction.

His hands continue kneading your thighs until you feel a finger graze your slit.

You let out a soft moan in response, eliciting a pleased hum from Yeosang.

He teases your entrance, spreading your arousal around before plunging a finger inside of you.

You let out a soft moan, “Yeo—“

Your voice catches in your throat when he starts pumping in and out of you, curling his finger upward with his movements.

Your hands fly to grip the table beneath you and you stifled the sounds that threatened to escape past your lips.

He slips a second finger inside you, his movements quickening with each stroke.

He grins up toward you, a seemingly sweet face in contrast to what his hands were doing to you.

“You’re gonna have to be quiet if you don’t wanna get caught,” he leaned over you before sliding his fingers out of you and guiding you off the counter.

His hand caressed the side of your face before he began to lower the waist band of his pants.

You slowly sunk to your knees, your hands over taking his to lower his pants down beneath his hips.

All that was left was his boxers, and you could practically see the outline of his hard on

Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers before sliding them down his thighs

Holy fuck

You wrap your fingers around his length, stroking him a few times before you engulf him with your lips

He lets out a low groan of satisfaction, his hand traveling down to cup your cheek

You began bobbing your head down his length, and Yeosang’s head lulled back

“You’re doing so well for me,” he whispered, looking down at you to meet your gaze.

Your eyes met his as you kept up with your pace

Yeosang fisted your hair, guiding your head down his length when a sharp knock to the door alerted you both

You pulled away from him immediately, scrambling backward to put distance between the two of you

The door handle jiggled, and to your relief it had been locked

Yeosang chuckled silently, his gaze shifting from the door back to your form on the floor

“What, did you think I’d be so careless?”

“Now, let���s get back to where we left off.”

[mockerycrow]

Undercover IV (Soap x GN!Reader)

undercover series masterlist — previous | next

Summary: You have a rocky introduction with John Price and you continue your interview, despite a certain someone’s hesitant protests. You finally have your dreaded psych evaluation while your stress reaches it’s peak.

A/N: considering this is a reboot timeline + Makarov is only vaguely mentioned in mw2, i’m taking inspo from og mw and adding my own spices. and holy shit why was this so difficult to complete??? i also apologize for this taking so long, i live where the smoke from the canadian fires dragged across and my chest hurts. update: russian was corrected!

[WARNINGS: flashbacks, Price is a bit of an ass but trust me, vague descriptions of torture and murder, angst.]

“I learned from him that often contradiction is the clearest way to truth.” -Patti Smith.

“We need to get your head on straight.”

That’s what Price said, and I don’t know what about how he said it made me mad, but oh boy, did it fucking piss me off. “What?”

“We need to get your head on straight,” He repeats, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He’s wearing his tactical vest, dawning a U.K. badge. I eye his gear before making eye contact with him again and he continues. “We can’t afford to sit around, we need that intel. We have reasonable suspicion Makarov will move on with his plans quicker than we anticipated.” My nose scrunches up a little bit as he’s basically avoiding saying it without saying that he’s avoiding it. “You want me to continue with the interview.” I say it like a statement and not a question because all three of us know it’s not a question.

“Price, that isn’t a good idea,” Soap says, his voice considerably alarmed. He grinds his teeth together because he knows my reaction to just fucking closing my eyes while talking about it was extremely concerning. “I know it isn’t, but we don’t have a choice,” Price mutters before pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. He looks at me with a pointed look, eyes flickering over my body in confliction.

I mimic his look because as much as I would love time to calm down, I know what he’s saying is true. If they truly have reasonable suspicion that Makarov is going to advance in his plans early, they need what I learned.

Fuck, man..

“Okay.” I move the pillow around on my lap. “Let’s do it?”

Soap’s head snaps towards me, eyebrows furrowed. “What? You’re agreein’ to it??” I look back at him with a frustrated look and I can feel myself wanting to explode. “What choice do I have? Not say anything and risk peoples lives, or have a little freak out and no one dies—except maybe for him?”

The room goes silent except for the beeping of the machines and Soap sighs, taking the recorder out of his front pocket. Price remains on his side of the bed but this time finds a chair, pulls it around and sits down. His hands stay on the armrests. I glance at Soap who presses a button and holds it a bit away from himself. “This is Sergeant John MacTavish, Callsign Soap, this is day two interviewing Sergeant [Name] [Last Name] of the Eclipse Task Force.” Soap hesitates to say the next part, his eyes tracing him face as he mutters. “Last subject was Makarov’s ‘entry tests’ and ‘loyalty tests’.”

I feel my stomach collapse in on itself, tightening into a painful knot. I know this was coming eventually, even if I didn’t want it to. “Yeah, uh..” I trail off, averting my eyes to stare at something, anything but the two men looking to me for answers. “After two months of living in Russia, I got into contact with Makarov. It was completely by accident too, I was just trying to collect information about him, seem like I was interested and then I was.. picked up.“ I pause for a moment before continuing. “I had to build up a reputation, something that made it look like I didn’t pop up in this city out of the blue, y’know?”

“Мы не используем здесь его имя.” We do not use his name here. “Секретность должна быть сохранена, не так ли?” Secrecy must be kept, right?

There’s a hood over my head and my heart is pounding inside of my chest—I could die, right here and right now and nobody would know. I could fail this entire mission right at this moment and that’s fucking terrifying. I twist my wrists ever so slightly, not in an attempt to get away, but I can’t help but check out tight the rope is. I’m surprised they didn’t use handcuffs. I blink rapidly as my eyes burn a bit, trying to properly adjust to the bright light above me.

I look around and I’m in a warehouse with two men—neither of them being the man I want, but one of them is Sergei Orlov, one of the men I had been tracking since I’ve gotten here.

The intel suggests he has close connects to Makarov, indicating that he may be in a right-hand man type of situation. That’s the position I’m trying to bury my way into. Sergei’s eyes are sharp and intimidating, the color being a deep, cerulean blue with dashes of green near his pupils.

There is absolutely no light in them, no positive emotion—I didn’t expect to see any, but it makes me wonder if Makarov’s eyes are the same? Will I be able to get close enough to see?

“Мы наблюдаем за тобой уже несколько недель. Ты пытаешься предать свою страну и начать войну. Почему?” We have been watching you for several weeks now. You are trying to betray your country and start a war. Why?

My fingers twitch as I offer a scoff, a snarl curling at my lips, like I’m snapping at another dog. Of course, I show no disrespect. I need this to be perfect. “Вы не представляете, что этот мир сделал со мной, люди, которые в нем живут, сделали со мной.” You have no idea what this world has done to me, the people who live in it have done to me.

Sergei has his hands behind his back as he slowly walks around me, circling me. I keep my eyes on him as much as possible, I’m radiating distrust—trying to keep up the character I’m playing.

“Это правда, я не знаю. Но я точно знаю, что такие, как ты, просто так не появляются.” It's true, I don't know. But I know for sure that people like you don't just appear. I feel my heart drop into my stomach because fuck, man—I thought everything was good?? My backstory, my profile, I didn’t think I had any holes—

“К счастью для тебя, у нас есть сложная викторина для людей, которые, казалось бы, появились из ниоткуда. Чтобы предотвратить явку шпионов, м?” Lucky for you, we have a challenging quiz for people who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. To prevent spies, yes?

I immediately nod in response, brows furrowed, eyes filled with determination. Sergei’s lips curl into a dreadful smile—one that screams “get away from me or else”.

“Хороший.” Good. He unties my bindings, allowing me to rub my wrists. I don’t have a good feeling at all. Sergei grabs my upper arm and has me stand up, and him and the other man lead me out of the warehouse, going to a truck. “Куда мы идем?” Where are we going?

He doesn’t bother to answer me besides motioning me to sit in the back of the car. I hesitate for a moment out of weariness, but I comply. I open the door to the truck and climb into the back and Sergei slides into the back with me. The other man climbs into the driver’s seat. “привод.” Drive.

I can feel myself begin to space out with every word and I can vaguely feel my fingers tightening into a fist. I pause my retelling of events as my train of thought breaks apart, the crawling feeling on my back intensifying. “Hey,” Price’s voice is low. “You with us?” It takes everything inside of my goddamn soul to nod, but God, I wish I wasn’t. I know we’re getting close to the part of my.. atrocities.

My heart jumps inside of my chest and my monitor beeps loudly for a moment. Don’t close your eyes. Don’t close your eyes. Don’t close your eyes. Don’t close your eyes—“Hey!”

My eyes snap to Price who has a furrowed brow, annoyance lacing his features. I notice my chest is moving up and down with every harsh breath coming out through my nose. “Focus.” I grit my teeth, my fingernails digging into the palm of my hand. “I’m trying.” I retaliate with a tight voice. I understand they need this information, but they have to understand how hard it is to recount literally every single life taken, innocent ones??

“Clearly you aren’t,” Price scoffs, his lip curling in anger. “You’ve barely started the bloody report, what’s the issue?”

I laugh humorlessly, my eyes going wide. “What—Did you actually just fucking say that?” Soap stands up, putting his hand out towards his captain. “Price, I—“

“Stay out of this, Soap. That’s an order.”

I can feel my bones ache under my harsh clenching of my hand, an angry smile coming to my lips. I feel this weird smoldering feeling in my gut that’s spreading heat across my body and into my limbs. I hear my heart monitor picking up speed. “You have absolutely no fucking idea what I’ve been through—what I’ve had to do!” I’m aware I’m raising my voice, but I honestly cannot bother to give a fuck by now.

Price crosses his arms, glaring down at me. His eyes are scrutinizing and it makes me want to punch the fuckin’ daylights out of him. “You’re right,” He begins. “I have not the foggiest idea because you’ve not said anything of actual value thus far!”

Oh, he wants me to fucking punch him. This man is so fucking asking for me to knock his teeth out. I open my mouth to speak but Price swiftly interrupts me. “What did you have to do, [Name]? Kill a few innocent people? Children, maybe? Did you have to torture them?”

I can feel that hot feeling turn to ice cold in a split second, a ripple of sweat dripping down my temple. “..What?”

Price waves his hand around as a general statement. “So what, you had to gut a few children? That’s nothing. Oh, did you have to keep them alive? Did they force ya to hear their screams, [Name]? Or did you have’to—“

It’s like I don’t have control of myself when I reach forward and snatch the front of Price’s shirt and pulling him near myself, my voice loud and booming, nearly cracking. “YES, IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR? DID YOU WANT TO HEAR THE SICK DETAILS OF WHAT I DID?” I take a deep breath, continuing. This fucking rage is flowing through my bones and I just cannot shut myself up—“DID YOU WANT TO HEAR ABOUT HOW I BROKE BONES, INFLICTED WOUNDS AND LEFT PEOPLE TO ROT?”

The room goes silent, aside from my harsh breathing and the beeping from my heart monitor. I lower my voice, but i don’t stop the absolute anger dripping from every word as I speak through clenched teeth. “Every dirty fuckin’ detail is a weight on my goddamn conscience and you don’t seem to understand that, Price.”

The room is eerily silent again and I fucking hate it. I look down at the pillow on my torso as I feel their beady little eyes peering into my soul, judging my every sin. I hear Soap turn the recorder off and I feel hot from embarrassment for a moment because I just realized.. he was recording all of that. Of fucking course.

Before anyone else can say anything, the door to my room opens. I pick my head up and see a woman in business casual clothing with a notebook, pen, and a clipboard. “Hi, my name is Doctor Elaine Stewart, I’ll be conducting this comprehensive psychological and psychiatric evaluation on you today.” Her voice is soft and light like how her hair looks—dark curls that seem to bounce right above her shoulders, her skin is a darker tan too. Her eyes are big, round, and soft. She’s British—I can’t place what region she grew up in, though.

They probably picked her because she would feel less like a threat towards me.

Dr. Stewart turns to the two men, glancing between them. “I’m going to have to ask you two to leave for patient doctor confidentiality purposes.”

Price goes to speak up, but she puts her hand up to stop him. “I’ll call if I need anything, but I’m sure we’ll be just fine.”

I hear Price sigh, but I refuse to look at him. Instead, I look to Soap, who’s peering down at me with concerned eyes. I still don’t get why he’s so concerned.. Or why he’s so quiet, because he really doesn’t seem to be a quiet person. Soap takes his notebook sketchbook thing, murmuring a “see you later” and takes his leave next to his Captain.

Once the door closes, Dr. Stewart smiles at me and walks over to my bed, heels clicking, and then takes a seat. “You know how this goes, yeah? You’ve been in the military for quite some time now.” I nod in response, taking a deep breath. My back is beginning to ache from not getting up or moving.

“Yeah, I know.” I say anyway. I put my hands on the bed and go to use my strength to sit myself up, but immediate tight and bursting pain bubbles where my stitches are. One of my hands fly to my stomach—which is covered by the pillow, followed by a loud curse. Dr. Stewart quickly sits up, alarmed. “Are you alright??”

I nod as I hiss in pain, clenching my jaw in an attempt to distract myself from the pain. “Didn’t realize it would’ve hurt so bad..”

Dr. Stewart nods, leaning over and click a button a few times which raises the back of the bed to a proper sitting up position. I feel my face heat up from embarrassment again. Fuck.

Dr. Stewart holds her clipboard and looks at me. “Have you experienced moments where you felt like you were not in your body?”

I take a moment to think about that. “Yes, but only when I was actively tortured or, er.. uh… did the torturing.” I look away from her and back at my lap, a weird feeling bubbling in my stomach. She takes a moment to write down my answer. “Have you ever felt out of control of yourself?”

I shake my head no—and then I pause. Have I? I shake my head no a second time after thinking.

“Within the last 6 months, have you heard disembodied voices or noises no one else around you could hear?”

“No.”

“Have you ever found yourself back in an event that already happened? Maybe you’re just sitting down and for a moment, you’re back in that warehouse?”

I look at her with a furrowed brow, and I immediately want to deny it, but I can’t. “I mean..” I trail off for a moment. “I don’t.. I don’t hallucinate that I’m back with Makarov’s group, if that’s what you mean.”

Dr. Stewart leans forward a bit, her perfectly painted nails tapping against the clipboard. “Then what do you mean, [Name]?” I swallow the spit in my mouth before speaking, yet it feels like my mouth has gone dry. “I don’t know, all I’m saying is that I don’t experience that.”

She looks at me—why is she staring??—and then she writes something down. “What have you done to them, [Name]?”

My heart skips a beat. “What?”

“I said, what have you experienced? I’m talking about anxiety, maybe dread, everything you’ve felt within the last day.”

Did I.. did I mishear her? She definitely said ‘what did you to them’, right?

“[Name]?”

I blink rapidly and look at her. “Sorry. What?”

Dr. Stewart bites her lower lip for a moment, watching me with worried eyes. “I think it’s best to conclude this evaluation for now. It looks like you’re having a hard time adjusting, so I will check back in with you in a few days.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” My voice is teetering on the edge of anger and I know I shouldn’t be mean, but I feel like my skeleton is trying to shed my skin from how jumpy I feel. “That means I don’t think you’re coherent enough for your interview, nor your evaluation; the one that’ll tell your superiors that you can return, anyway.” She picks her pen up and she begins to write something down—seemingly a longer paragraph. “So.. that means you have a temporary conclusion? Of my psyche?” I ask slowly, and I know that isn’t the right wording, but I’m not sure how else to do it.

Dr. Stewart stands up and begins to collect her things. She sighs and looks at me with.. sympathy?? Pity? I can’t tell. “You just went through something extremely traumatic, [Name]. You’re still in fight or flight. I can’t conduct a proper assessment like this.”

I hold my tongue from barking at her that I’m fine, from telling her to get the fuck out or me making some obscene threat.

I feel my heart sink in my chest because I feel like she’s vaguely suggesting something I cannot handle right now.

🏷️: @hardnutpost @glitterypirateduck @elowynnlane @boycigs @wolfyland07 @escapefromrealitysm @tapioca-marzipan

[hqbaby]

sixteen — this is real

fuck ur instincts — suna x reader & atsumu x reader

you and suna are just fooling around—so why does he care so much when you start falling in love with someone else?

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.5k content. swearing, pretty tame tbh

him: wanna come over tonight?

y/n the love of my life: sorry!! got plans

Suna can’t help the frown that takes over his features as he stares at your message. It’s not a big deal. You’ve turned him down before, this isn’t anything special. In fact, this is completely normal. Did he really expect you to drop everything going on in your life for him? Of course not.

Logic doesn’t stop it from bothering him though. The truth is that he hasn’t been alone with you since you left him that one night. Sure, he sees you around friends but you never really talk because you’re not supposed to be this close. Sure, it’s only been four days since that night but still. It unsettles him, it makes him feel like he doesn’t know where the two of you stand.

“Sorry, Bo, I got plans with Y/N tonight.”

Suna’s head shoots up to find Atsumu grinning at their teammate. What?

Bokuto waves it off. “No biggie, bro!” he says. “Say hi to her for me.”

“Will do.” Atsumu closes his locker and turns to look at Suna. “Ya good, man?”

So he’s your “plans,” Suna thinks. It makes him want to hurl. He hates it.

“Yeah,” he manages to say, already sprinting out of the locker room. “I’m fine.”

He’s not fine. He feels like he’s burning from inside out at the thought of you ditching him for Atsumu. Fucking Atsumu. Don’t you know that he used to cry after science exams? That he had to take his driving test four times? That he and Osamu once spent an entire week finishing a 10,000 piece puzzle while everyone else thought they had died?

Suna slams his head on his steering wheel. It doesn’t matter if you know any of that. All that matters is that you’re choosing Atsumu. Instead of him.

He pulls his phone out and starts typing a message to some girl who gave him her number at a party. She wouldn’t say no to him. He knows she wouldn’t. And that’s why he can’t bring himself to send the message, why he throws his phone on the passenger seat and drives back home instead of doing anything stupid.

Kiyoko reaches her leg out and pokes you with her toe. “What’s up with you?”

You glance up from the lab report you’re working on, bemused. “With me?” you ask. “Not much, dude. What about you?”

She gives you a knowing look. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Am not!”

“You’re withholding gossip!” she accuses, grinning as she points a finger at you. “Come on! I need to know what’s going on!”

You put your laptop away. “Nothing’s going on!” you tell her, but there’s a smile in your voice that says otherwise. “Well, nothing too crazy at least.”

“Tell me!”

You start laughing as your roommate hops onto your bed, grabbing one of your pillows while she looks at you eagerly. “It’s really nothing,” you say. “‘Tsumu just kinda sorta… asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are,” she says. “Because if he actually did that, you wouldn’t be seeing him tonight.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you said no to him. You’re nice, you don’t string guys along after you turn them down.”

You stare at her. She stares at you. You stare at her. She cocks her head to the side. You give a small nod.

“Holy shit!” she exclaims. “You said yes?!”

“Not yet!”

“Yet?!”

You’re laughing as she tries to tackle you. “Dude, chill!” you say. “We don’t know what’s gonna happen!”

She shakes her head, hands on your shoulders as she rattles you around. “You have to tell me,” she says, leaning close enough to make her already-wide eyes look wider, “do you love him?”

“I don’t know!” you say, pushing her away.

You furrow your brows at the words that fall out of your mouth. You were supposed to say no. Why didn’t you say no?

“You don’t know?”

“Are you using me as an excuse to avoid your homework?” you ask in an attempt to change the subject.

“Doesn’t matter!” she says. “Wait. What about Suna?”

You wince. 

The truth is that you don’t know what’s going to happen with Suna. You’ve been avoiding him ever since the night that you decided not to stay over. You still see him when you hang out with his friends and go visit his team, but you never talk to him, sticking to your usual polite-but-not-close relationship in public.

It’s been eating you alive and you don’t really know why. You’re going to have to talk to him eventually, about Atsumu, about everything. It shouldn’t be a big deal, but for some reason, it feels like it is. Why?

“If I say yes to Atsumu,” you say carefully, “I guess things with Rin will be over.”

It hits you as soon as you say it.

Over.

It seems so final, so unnecessary. Surely, there’s a better way to do this. This can’t be it.

Kiyoko looks thoughtful, like she’s considering her words very carefully. Then, she asks, “How do you feel about that? You know, ending things with Suna.”

You shrug. This time you know you mean it when you say, “I don’t know.”

You’re sitting in Atsumu’s car with your head leaned against the window. You haven’t planned anything special tonight, just eating take-out and driving around. Normally, you’d be talking each other’s ears off, but you can’t seem to focus right now.

Ever since your talk with Kiyoko that afternoon, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about Suna. It bugs you more than you know it should and that only makes it worse.

“Yer quiet tonight,” Atsumu says. His voice isn’t accusatory or harsh, like he’s just making an observation. “Somethin’ botherin’ ya?”

You chew your bottom lip and fiddle with the straw of your drink. “Yeah. Just a little.”

He hums. “Do ya wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know if I can,” you tell him quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothin’ to apologize for,” Atsumu says, glancing over to give you a reassuring smile. He finds a spot near the lake on campus and parks nearby. “We can talk about anythin’ ya want. Or not. We can just sit here and eat. That’s okay too.”

He turns the engine off and rolls the windows down, the autumn air drifting in. There are a few other people in the area, groups of friends daring each other to dive into the lake and couples talking or getting into arguments. It’s a night like any other and, as you sit there eating and listening to the playlist you and Atsumu put together, you know you wouldn’t mind spending more of your time like this.

“Have you ever had to let something go?”

The question just falls out of you. It fills the gaps in the air like it was always meant to be there. Like it was something you were always meant to ask.

“Anythin’ in particular?” he asks, taking a sip of his drink.

You look out the window and see a girl, soaked to the bone, walk out of the lake before chasing after her friends. 

“A person,” you say, “after you realized that you wanted different things.”

“Yer not talkin’ ‘bout me are ya?” His tone is teasing.

You shake your head and smile at him. “No.”

You catch the way he looks at you. His gaze is soft and warm and kind. It makes you feel like you’re all that matters to him at this moment. Like the rest of the world is just static. 

The only other person who ever looked at you that way was Suna and he only noticed when he was inside you in one way or another.

It feels different when Atsumu does it. It makes you feel like you matter just by existing.

“So,” you say, trying to stop yourself from focusing too much on the look on his face, “have you ever had to let someone go?”

He considers your question for a moment. “I have,” he tells you. “‘Samu actually.”

That catches you off-guard. The twins are absolutely inseparable, as far as you know. “‘Samu?”

“Yeah.” He nods, getting into it now. “In highschool I thought that we were gonna do volleyball together forever. I couldn’t imagine a world where I’d have to go at it without ‘im, but that’s what happened.

“I was so mad.” He chuckles, clearly recalling a fond—or maybe not so fond—memory. “We got in a big fight and… it wasn’t pretty.”

You nod along, the story distracting you from any thoughts of Suna. “What happened?”

Atsumu sighs. “I had to get used to it,” he tells you. “We had different dreams and it wasn’t right that I pushed mine on ‘im. It wasn’t ‘Samu’s job to change and I wasn’t bein’ fair to either of us by thinking he would.”

He offers you a smile, all boyish and a little shy. He knows the vulnerability should irk him, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when he’s talking to you. Not when you’re looking at him all nice and understanding and so fucking gorgeous.

You lean over the console and kiss him. It’s short and sweet but it means everything to the two of you.This is real, you tell yourself. You don’t know much else but you know that this—you and Atsumu and all the little spaces in between, this—is as real as you’re going to get.

notes. THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM *mic drops and runs for the hills*

[mango-bango-bby]

I read your recent Shigaraki fic (it was such a creative idea 😭💕) and I’ve been stuck on that man ever since. Can I also request a nsfw fic with Shigaraki where he accidentally makes reader squirt ? He definitely had been been trying to make reader do that on purpose for a while but I know he’s not gonna let that happen just once now that he’s figured it out 😅 -🌻

♡ Biggest Fantasy ♡

(A/N: Ok, ok, I think I was to tired and I accidentally misread your request… So I wrote a part two to the other fic, but where he accidentally makes reader squirt☹️☹️ I’m so sorry!! I hope you still like it though, because I actually like this one. But I think I just like anything Shigaraki lol!!

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, NSFW, vibrators, smut, fem!reader, slight DUB-CON, squirting, fingering, overstimulation, OOC Tomura

Summary: Tomura accidentally makes you squirt (Yan!Shigaraki x Fem!reader)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

♡↞ Previous

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Three. Tomura had been counting, you had orgasmed three times since he had started using a game controller as a vibrator. Although he was painfully hard by this point, he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. He just loves the way you squirmed and tried to escape his grip.

Tomura wrapped an arm around you from moving too much. You reach your arms up behind you to hold onto him, eventually finding your grip in his hair. The non-stop vibrations didn’t stop feeling good despite how long it had been going on.

“You’re shaking” Tomura mumbles, his head resting on your shoulder so he can watch how you quiver. He had already used his quirk to get rid of your pajama shorts, leaving you nearly naked besides a thin, loose, tank top. You don’t respond to him, almost as if you can’t hear him. Although he supposes you can’t, with the overstimulation and the vibrations being at a higher intensity now that the character in the game is closer to a game over.

He thinks for a moment before releasing his grip on you, using his other hand to push his way into you. You were already so wet from the makeshift vibrator, so his fingers just slipped it. Almost as if your cunt was greedy for more.

“Tomura-” you whimper, pulling tighter on his hair. Although it doesn’t seem like he minds to much. In fact you can feel his cock get harder when you do so as it’s against your lower back. “It’s too much!” You whine, turning your head as much as you can to meet his. His face is flushed and his eyes seem wide at how loud you had suddenly become, your moans and whines almost echoing through the small room.

You clench your eyes shut, your already tight grip getting even tighter and the knot in your stomach felt even tighter as you knew you were going to cum. The vibrations jolted through you, every single one bringing you even closer. The feeling of Tomura leaning on you and his breath hitting your skin only intensified it.

“Tomura! ‘M gonna make a mess!” You warn, being unable to control it. Usually, you’d ask if you’re allowed to but you know you won’t be able to control it. Tomura can’t even respond before you squirted. You sobbed as you gushed, covering the controller, the floor, and his hand in the process. You slump into him, almost dazed from how incredible that felt. You don’t come back to reality until Tomura speaks.

“Holy shit…” Tomura mumbles. He had tried relentlessly to see you squirt, he had had wet dreams over the idea. Before he even took you, he would watch porn where the star squirted and imagine it was you squirting. He had tried so many different positions and techniques, he even was going to try sex toys to see that sight. He was so much better than he imagined.

Tomura leans over you, pressing you flat against the floor. He listens to you whimper as he does so. He leans over you, his rock-hard cock pressed again your ass. “That was so fucking hot..” he mutters. Although what was it that made you squirt? Was the vibrations? Was if his fingers? The combination of both? Or was it just a one-time thing?

“Mmmm- Tomura- no more” you sob, although you admit to yourself that the idea of continuing is exciting. You knew he wouldn’t though, after so long of trying to get you to squirt, you knew he would want to see it again.

“I promise you can rest later. You can rest if you squirt for me again”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

[screamsortega]

i won’t let anyone hurt you;

summary: as news of a new ghostface arises you get painful flashbacks from the year before, luckily, your boyfriend ethan is there to comfort you.

warnings: cursing, mentions of blood, murder, all that stuff.

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

*lowercase intended*

“what’s going on?” sam spoke, rushing in not too long after chad called for her.

“…where the mutilated bodies of two students..” the news reporter on the tv spoke.

“cute boy, nice.” quinn said, pointing to the guy that followed in after sam.

“their names have just been released by the police, jason carvey and greg bruckner.” the reporter continues before mindy chimes in.

“holy shit,” she began, “that’s that chode from our film studies class. the one obsessed with argento.”

“Also found at the scene were various ghostface costumes, a character popularized by the stab movie franchise.” as soon as the reporter said those words, you could feel your face grow pale before you all looked at one another.

“Pack a bag, we leave in ten.” sam spoke, walking into the kitchen to grab a knife.

“sam, wait, sam!” tara spoke up, walking over towards her sister.

“we’re getting out of the city.”

“what?” the guy, danny, that followed behind sam said.

“thank you, suspicious new guy, but we got it from here.” chad says, slightly pushing danny back out of the apartment. “have a good night, get home safe.”

“sam.” tara said, “sam, wh- hold on, no, wait, let’s talk about this for a second. cause this might not have anything to do with us.”

“are you serious?” sam asked.

“it’s a big city! it’s halloween, everybody’s wearing masks!” tara defended.

“tara, this isn’t a coincidence.” sam spoke, hee voice slightly raising. “you knew him!”

“barely.”

“chad, mindy, y/n? back me up.”

“i mean, it is a little bit..” chad started as mindy finished his sentence. “close to home.”

“see?” sam said, turning back to tara.

you had been sitting in silence, blanking out, ethan had taken notice of this. “y/n?” he spoke, his voice low enough to where only you could hear.

ethan’s voice caused you to bring yourself back into reality, you get up and walk into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you which causes the group to stop in the middle of their conversations.

“is — is she okay?” anika questions, looking from one person to another.

“this is bringing shit back for her,” tara began, “everything that happened last year traumatized her for like, life.”

“didn’t it happen to all of you, though?” quinn asks, trying to keep up.

“well, yeah, but it just had a way harder hit on her. she hasn’t been dealing with it well either.”

ethan glances at the ground, contemplating on whether or not he should try and comfort you.

he gets up, heads to your bedroom door but before he reaches for the handle mindy chimes in. “she probably doesn’t want to be bothered right now, dude.”

ethan rolls his eyes, ignoring mindy’s comment as he walks in your bedroom and closes the door behind him.

“hey, you okay?” ethan asks, sitting besides you as his hand rests upon your shoulder.

you shrug his hand off, “go away, e.”

the two of you sit in silence for a moment, ethan deciding on what to say. “do you wanna talk about it?”

you just sit there, knees up against your chest as your head hangs low. “i know this must be hard for you, and i’m sorry that you have to go through this again.” ethan began.

“i care about you, y/n, and i’m here for you. so, please, talk to me.”

for some reason, tears just start to pour onto your face, your head falls upon ethan’s shoulder. “i can’t do this shit again, e, i can’t.”

“i know, it’s okay,” ethan began, his hand crept up to your hair, brushing through it. “just take deep breaths, okay? in and out.”

“ethan,” you began, finally controlling your breathing. “you have to get out of here, okay? if ghostface is really back then that means they’ll come after everyone, and that includes you and i can’t lose you, e.”

“yeah, well, you must be crazy if you think i’m leaving you.” ethan spoke, “i won’t let anyone hurt you, okay?”

“just let it all out, y/n”

[kirbyskisses]

kirby’s kinktober (fifteen)

belly bulge//taishiro toyomitsu

warning: anatomically impossible. please suspend your disbelief, the man is 8 feet tall.

it’s lucky that Fatgum is so sweet because were he a man of less patience and kindness he could easily rip you apart.

it takes weeks of him driving you to orgasm after orgasm on his tongue and huge hands - making your tongue loll out and your eyes roll back as you twitch - just to loosen you up enough for his sweet, hot tip to scrape against your insides.

“aw buttercup.” he coos and kisses the side of your face as if he’s not opening you up to the biggest cock you’ve ever seen. “all those sweet little juices just f’r me? they look so pretty mixed up with all the pretty lube on yer hero’s cock.”

you hiccup out, barely able to talk or think at the stretch of just the first fat inch. it should be hot but it’s smothered in cool lube, a requirement in order for him to so much as think about fucking you.

“love being in your tight hole baby. you want to be the only one to ever take me all the way, my sweet girl?”

you nod with a whimper, plush sheets enveloping you from one side while his muscular frame pins you from the other, dripping sweat with a sweet smile despite the animalistic ways he’s holding you down. he makes you feel so small. “yes…fatsy, want it just for me.”

“then why don’t we make this a little easier on you.” he gets off of you and stands up, holding you like a precious doll in a way that makes you feel utterly tiny and weightless. your back against his chest, you swallow deeply.

maybe the doll comparison was apt.

he’s going to use you as a fuck toy.

you thank the gods above that he’s in his fit form, sure that the swollen tip of this size is already far too much for you.

“keep your pretty little legs open. ‘M not gonna drop ya - you just focus on sinking that pretty cunt onto this fat, fat cock and I’ll do all the work.”

honestly you don’t register a thing he says - you don’t know if it’s seconds, minutes or hours that are passing - brain and pussy both filled with the painful but utterly wondrous stretch of his monstrous cock.

that was the best word for it. monstrous. blessed with size by his quirk, taishiro was deeply afraid to hurt you but the fear melts in place of pleasure.

he can’t even tell that you’ve already cum by the time you reach the halfway point, too big to feel your tiny, stuffed cunt squeezing and shivering on him, love juices leaking down to his heavy balls which he slowly, achingly, finally slides you down to.

holy shit. you can’t think, you can’t move, you can’t breathe. (surely, you must be breathing otherwise your giant lover would have a panic attack and pull you off to shower you in aftercare - but even if you are breathing you can’t feel it.)

his tip is smushed to your cervix, a mixture of lube and precum sloppily covering the unbreachable hole. your back is arched, mouth open to scream despite nothing coming out.

you’re not even sure what would come out.

maybe something like “too big, too big, too BIG.” but even though the scary size has distended your stomach but making a curved protrusion it feels good. unspeakably, horrifyingly good. you’re a ragdoll of pleasure for and by your sweet, sweet husband.

“y’look so cute, my sweet treat. oh.”

his eyes light up with a torturously erotic look. “someone’s tummy can’t take it, huh? can ya tell where i am?” he teases, knowing your mind left the second he sank into you.

“tell me where I am, gumdrop.” you let out a warble, choked sob of a moan, uncontrollable tears on your cheeks. you can’t even say your own name.

“oh? need help pretty girl. ‘m right…” he traces the bulge in your tummy with his finger, landing and pressing his hand onto the outline of his creamy, ultra-thick tip

“here.” he chuckles, a bright golden smile beaming down on you as you lose it completely - shaking and squirting at the pressure in your stomach.

he doesn’t slide you off, letting you cockwarm like a living fleshlight, basking in the satisfaction.

“you did good, cutie pie. can’t wait to see how you cum if I actually start moving next time.”

[roanniom]

Ok, hear me out (not a request just a thought I can't get out of my head - do what you want with it!) just crawling up to Eddie where he sits, manspreading on the couch, kissing his legs wherever the rips and holes in his jeans are until you come to the belt - getting it open and just ... swallowing him whole!

Ok hear ME out though.

More Sensitivity

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, groping, knee worship (? Is that a thing? Is this weird? Lol I don’t care), hypersensitivity, hand job, blow job

Crawling to Eddie across the cheap carpet in your first apartment. He sees you under the paper back he was reading and drops it, eyes widening. His legs spread a bit farther apart as you near him on your hands and knees.

“Hey there, Princess…” he trails off hesitantly. You continue making your way lithely across the floor to him, sitting up and perching on your heels when you reach the space between his socked feet.

“Hey handsome,” you say quietly, a smile on your face. You kiss your way up from his mid calf, pressing lips to denim, until you reach his knees.

You place a delicate kiss to the skin exposed by the rip there, making eye contact before placing your teeth over the exposed thread, lifting up and pulling to rip the hole wider.

Eddie’s eyes widen even further at the action and his chest begins moving up and down as his breathing kicks up, watching you.

“What are you…?”

You do the same to the other knee, ripping the hole open further with your teeth until both knee caps are fully exposed. Then, still maintaining eye contact, you place a hand over the hardening bulge in his jeans before dropping your head down to suck a wet kiss right on the side of his left knee.

“Holy fuck. Jesus Mary mother of - oh god.”

Eddie grips his thighs with white knuckles as you continue to lick and suck at his exposed knees, moving from one to the other while you palm at his hard on. His hard on which has swollen to the point way past comfort within the confines of his tight black jeans. He can’t tell if it’s the actual placement of your lips, or your pointed crotch rubbing or the look in your eyes as you gaze up at him from on your knees, but Eddie’s fucking gone.

Right when he thinks he’s going to bust in his jeans, you rock forwards off your heels and lift up onto your knees. You make quick work of his button and zipper and efficiently pull his aching dick out into the open air.

Licking a teasing little circle into the underside of his purpling mushroom head, you drop a teasing hand to one of his now well-loved knees. When your finger lightly traces the outline of the widened hole in his jeans, Eddie’s hips buck towards your face of their own accord. You close a hand around his shaft and begin pumping him in earnest.

“W-what are you doing to me?” Eddie asks, dropping lower in his seat on the couch, legs splaying even wider as his hips spasm into your grasp, seeking more more more. “How are you - shit.”

You suck another hickey into his knee and he’s bucking, yet again, into your fist. You smile at him from where you rest your chin on his knee. Thumb smoothing over the pool of precum collecting at his slit.

“Like it?” you ask teasingly. Innocently. As if you haven’t just wrecked him and made him both deliriously turned on and incredibly confused.

“How did you know to do that?” he sputters. You’re jerking him in earnest now, shuffled forward between his thighs and placing light, licking kisses to his tip. You shrug.

“ I didn’t. You just kept reacting so I kept going,” you answer simply, before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock.

He cums down your throat with barely time for a strangled warning not a minute after ♥️

~*~

Lmao I am so sorry for this.

Btw this is NOT the follow up to Sensitive, the fic where you discover Eddie’s ears are sensitive. This is completely stand alone and created because I am a menace.

[somebluemelodies]

SPIDERBIT WEEK hosted by @smallchaoscryptid !! day six: coffee | nautical IM FINALLY BACK !! i know mer au won my poll from a while back so this is kinda a double whammy? spiderbit week AND poll fic :D

For a while, Roier wonders if he’s ever gonna see the deepsea mer ever again. When he doesn’t see him the night after their initial meeting, he’s worried that the Feds may have gotten to the mer after all, and it pains him more than he cares to admit aloud.

But it’s not the last time. In fact, it happens multiple times, to the point where they have a weird schedule of sorts to meet every third day or so.

Communicating isn’t the easiest, with only Roier able to actually talk, but they make do, and he’s getting a real good hold of asking ‘yes or no’ questions or anything else that permits him to learn more about the deepsea mer.

Except for one thing. The mer’s name.

The mer can understand nearly everything Roier says, but he can’t write it. He can only write in his own strange mer-tongue, which is a series of characters that sends the pirate into a deeper confusion the more he tries to make sense of it.

For a little while, Roier contemplates giving the merman a name himself, but that feels a little unfair to the mer. He has a name, after all.

However, his mouth running faster than his mind produces a nickname, gatinho, as a result of staring at the mer for a little too long and getting lost in his eyes. Thankfully, though, the mer doesn’t seem to mind it, and Roier even swears it makes the creature blush. But that sounds like crazy talk, so he tries not to dwell on it.

Nevertheless, the nickname stays. If only because it’s… well… the truth.

(Mostly. He’s a mer, not a cat. Scales and no legs, not fur and four legs.)

(But God, if he isn’t the prettiest being Roier has ever seen.)

A couple weeks or so after their first initial meeting, Roier is sitting on the flattest rock closest to the water, the mer half out of the water in front of him with his arms resting on the rock. A routine, of sorts. Either here, or the cave.

“So, gatinho,” the pirate starts. “I need to figure out your name. We have to find some way. Because I can’t keep calling you gatinho forever.”

(But he’d certainly like to.)

The deepsea mer tilts his head slightly and shrugs, as if to say, “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

“What? You like the name, huh?”

A pause, followed by a slow nod. Roier grins. “No mames, wey, this guy likes being called pretty. Like a cat. Are you sure you’re not a cat? I think you’re a cat in disguise.”

The mer looks borderline offended, trying to reach over and slap him. But the pirate pushes back, out of reach, smile growing with a laugh. “You’re swatting like a cat! Holy shit, man, I was right. I’m friends with a fucking cat. A catfish. No mames.”

There’s a growl of sorts from the merman, who definitely looks like he’s blushing now - focus, focus, focus, stop looking at him like that - and shoots up out of the water before Roier has a chance to properly react.

Next thing he knows, he’s flat on his back against the rock, and there’s a solid weight on top of him, two almost-glowing blue eyes staring him down.

(A small part of Roier wonders if he should be afraid right now. He’s seen the sharp teeth and fingers. This mer could theoretically kill him in a heartbeat. Right here, right now.)

(But he’s not afraid, God only knows why. No, he’s… no, no. Enough.)

Roier tries to mask the way his cheeks are rapidly warming up with an accomplished, shit-eating laugh. “Calma, gatinho, calma.”

The deepsea mer huffs, shaking his head before a small smile crosses his face despite himself. He leans down to really shove Roier’s shoulder, but makes no effort yet to get off.

(Not that Roier minds.)

More laughter, and then a lull, and their eyes meet again. Roier becomes acutely aware of just how close they actually are. The mer is staring at him in a way he can’t quite decipher, and it makes him increasingly nervous.

(A look of wonder. Awe.)

(The mer sees the same exact look in those dark eyes.)

The pirate tries to play it off, like his heart isn’t about to beat out of his chest and like his thoughts aren’t circling around the fact that if he sits up enough, their lips could brush. Connect. “See something you like, gatinho?”

The mer also seems to finally realize their current position, and with wide eyes, pushes himself off and all but dives back into the water. Roier kicks himself in the ass for mourning the loss of contact.

For a few moments, as the merman doesn’t surface, he wonders if he’s fled for the night, and starts to feel a little guilty for his teasing.

But then there’s movement, and he watches the deepsea mer breach the surface again, blowing out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, sorry. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything.”

The mer shakes his head. It’s okay.

(He did see something he liked.)

"Roier!"

The pirate's head whips around, seeing a silhouette in the far distance.

"Oh, shit-- that's Jaiden. I gotta go." He turns back to the mer. "Three days? And I will learn your name, gatinho."

The deepsea mer nods, and three things happen in succession.

One. The mer leaves him a piece of sea glass, a red one.

Two. He hesitates, then hoists himself onto the rock to press a kiss to Roier's cheek.

Three. He dives back into the water without looking back, disappearing in a fleeting glint of deep emerald and leaving Roier to touch his cheek in surprise.

"Roier!" Jaiden calls again, running over to him. "There you are! What're you doing out here?"

Roier clears his throat, willing his cheeks to cool down despite the darkness surrounding them. His best friend was eerily observant sometimes. "I was just... collecting sea glass. See? Look at this piece I found!" He picks up the piece, standing up to show her.

Jaiden looks at it before back to him, her brow quirking ever-so-slightly. "O...kay? Since when do you do that?"

"It's given me something to do recently."

She studies him another moment, trying to decipher the truth. If she doesn't believe him, she doesn't say it. Instead, she says, "fair. But I came to bring you back to the ship, c'mon."

They walk in a comfortable silence for a bit, until she speaks up again. "Y'know, I haven't seen much sea glass around here. You must have some awfully good luck; I see the little pile on the box beside your hammock."

Roier opens his hand, looking at the translucent red treasure as icy eyes infiltrate his mind, the ghost of lips warming his cheek. "Sí. Something like that."

[sl33py-day]

SAGAU Yet They messed up the gender

What I mean by that is everyone, the archons the people even the traveler themselves, thought the creator was a girl, a female. But the creator is a boy, they got it wrong.

In this idea you are teleported into genshin and you didn’t think much of it. To find out what AU you are in you decided the most stupid but ok-ish idea. You cut yourself to see if your blood is gold or not. Well lo and behold it’s fucking gold like the sun.

Not really wanting to handle the responsibilities of the creator, and because you just don’t want to talk to people. You decided that you’re just gonna get a job and make sure you don’t get hurt! What’s so bad about that?

It’s bad once you realize the only thing you’re good at and enjoy is cooking. People like your cooking in your world and maybe they will in genshin. So you opened a restaurant in Liyue and as soon as one person ate your food people would come and eat your food.

As time went on the traveler and paimon arrived in Liyue to help with the archon situation. It was funny to say the least. You were working at the restaurant when the rite of dissension happened. People were buying your Chocolate Italian soda that people seemingly love when the dragon fell from the sky. Everyone gasped In shock while you whispered a small “Oh shit.” Watching from where you are, you saw Aether run away and pass by your restaurant.

“Welp, we all know how this ends. Childe is gonna be a child and have a messy tantrum.” You muttered while wiping the tables, people just looked at you weird but didn’t question anything. Rumors started about how they are keeping the archon or whatever you didn’t pay attention when people gossiped in your workplace.

After a long day of many many random Karen’s and people flirting cause they’re lonely you closed the shop. Walking home you passed Zhongli without noticing him but he noticed you. His amber eyes closed a bit as he followed your figure pass by him.

Once again after the whole archon thing happened and many visits from Aether and paimon, who you became friends with. People started to go back to normal meaning that work is gonna get even busier. Aether still made time to come and see how you’re doing and Zhongli started to come by with Childe making him pay for his food.

Today work was a bit slow and Aether was here so you decided to just talk to him for the time being. You both talked about different things from favorite food to if a cat and a frog can be friends. The two of you had a small friendly fight over it that almost ended with you throwing a chair at Aether.

“Uh, M/n have you heard about the news?” Paimon spoke up when she saw the h/c male reach for the chair. Aether thanked paimon for saving his life for a moment before seeing M/n smile that is almost saying ‘I will throw the chair at you but not right now’.

“No? What’s the news?” The floating girl gasped in shock when he responded. “Paimon can’t believe that you haven’t heard! Her grace is gonna arrive to Teyvat tomorrow! There’s gonna be a HUGGEEE celebration!” She threw her arms high in the sky towards the end of her sentence as her and Aether did not noticed M/n freeze for a minute. But after awhile he just chuckled nervously when it got to quiet.

“I can’t wait for that to happen…!” His voice sounded a little fake but what is he supposed to say? “I’m sorry, you got the gender wrong and I’ve been here for years now!” He just started to actually enjoy his life! Hell he’s even dating a guy named Akashi! You continued to sulk in you mind once Aether and Paimon left.

It’s the middle of the next day and people were waiting for ‘her’ holiness to arrive. Some people got food and drinks others got presents to give to the creator. You noticed that a small flash of red ran passed you with a blond haired male following after as panic flashed across his face.

“Excuse me sir, have you by chance seen a small blonde and red eyed girl pass by?” He asked and you nodded pointing to the direction Klee went. He thank you with a smile before running off. Sounds of people whispering where heard and yells of angered men was thrown here and there. Ah, they realized that the Creator isn’t gonna come. Welp that’s sad.

“Hey love, do you think her holiness is actually gonna come?” Your boyfriend Akashi walked up to where you were with a smile. His black hair was curly and his red eyes looked like pools of blood or roses you like both. Smiling back to him before shrugging your shoulders.

“I don’t know ‘kashi, maybe they got something wrong?” Your e/c held some sort of mischief in them as you looked at Akashi. The red eyed male only looked at you with a curious gaze before laughing softly. He loved that you were mischievous at times and kind at others. He sat next to you as you leaned against him.

“Like the date?“ Akashi asked as he watched people start to freak out while the Archons tried to calm them down. Humming in agreement before sighing. “I gotta get going home. I’m tired from the days work.” Akashi offered to walk you home but you gently said no. Well gently shouldn’t be the right word…..you did try and throw a chair at him when he asked again.

Walking through the crowed of people not noticing someone pull out a small knife. You walked by that person and got cut deep enough that gold blood began to drip out slowly. You didn’t realize as quickly as everyone else because people started to gasp.

“The creator!”

“She’s actually here!”

“Wait….That’s not a girl. The creator is a boy!”

People began to yell out that they found the creator and how the Archons were wrong about the gender. Venti was the first archon to get to you, his eyes widen in shock before his face was covered in red.

“Your grace! We are so very sorry for getting your gender wrong! How should we ever repay such a price!” He said as he knelt down with the other archons and everyone near by following after him. You only looked at them then where Akashi was sitting. He looked shocked yet happy, he was dating the creator for Celestia sake!

“You don’t have to do anything…..uh. I’ve been here for a few years anyways.” Once you said that the archons gasped in shock then immediately felt guilty for not noticing that the all might creator was and has been here for years without them knowing.

Zhongli or the geo archon spoke up after minutes of silence. “If anyone has been rude to you the past few months or years we can get rid of them for you.” He said that with such truth that it makes you scared that even if you say no he will look to see if anyone was mean to you. Calmly, or nervously, you said that it was fine and no one has been mean to the point of killing.

Venti started to hug you out of nowhere and began to get all touchy. For example he was rubbing his face against your arm. He or anyone else who didn’t know you before you were found out didn’t know you were dating someone. Aether knew and was jealous even before this whole event happened, but know he was extremely jealous and outraged. He should’ve killed that guy long ago!

“Uh, Barbato’s,” Venti’s face was even more red after hearing you say his archon name. “Can-Can you get off me? I’m dating someone and this feels like I’m cheating…” it seemed like everyone froze the once happy look in Ventis eyes went away and was replaced with a darken look. He looked up at you before asking who’s dating you.

“Hey Love! Didn’t know this would happen!” Akashi walked through the crowd as people made a path for him. Red eyes met blue ones both looked at the others with a burning hatred. Oh and Akashi is taller than Venti, he’s about 6’1.

It seems like the archons and all the devotes hated the guy and the same could go for Akashi. I mean, Akashi didn’t even know that you were the creator and still loved you. While everyone else was only gonna love you because you’re the creator.

[wrenreid]

Better off Broken

synopsis: Spencer Reid finally gets a chance to meet his little boy’s teacher after always being away on a case for all the other opportunities. Though, the single father Dr. Reid was not expecting his son’s kindergarten teacher to be a charming young woman who might possibly make him forget the vow he took to swear off romantic involvements. (dual point of view)

content warnings: past relationship trauma, little bit of self deprecation, 18+ scenes, fluff…

“C’mon, Daddy! Let’s go meet Ms. Y/n!” I hear one of my students, Atlas Reid, say excitedly from outside of my classroom.

Atlas is one of my favorite students. Now, I know we educators are not supposed to have favorites, but we all do. He’s kind and brilliant. I’ve always wanted to meet his parents just to tell them how amazing they’ve raised their son.

But at every parent- teacher conference or holiday party, Mr. and Mrs. Reid have failed to show up.

A few weeks ago when I was walking a few of the kiddos out for pickup, I asked Atlas where his mommy was for the Thanksgiving party we had for the students and parents.

The little boy looked up at me, and with a straight face he said, “I don’t have a mommy.”

Rip my heart out why don’t you, child? I wanted to pick him up and hug him right then and there. Mainly because he didn’t even seem all that upset about it, which made me even more upset. Sure there are hundreds of thousands of kids who don’t have two (or even one) parents, but it still makes me sad. Maybe he has two dads, I thought to myself. I was hoping.

“Who do you live with?” I asked him, trying not to assume anything.

I have a name and a contact for his guardian, but I don’t know who they are since I’ve never had to call them.

“I live with my daddy,” he said plainly, but had a soft smile on his face.

He has a parent. Good.

“Why didn’t he come to the party yesterday?” I asked. I’m being really being nosy, but children don’t notice nosiness because they ask a ton of questions too.

“He was at work. He’s always at work,” Atlas said, and I detected a hint of sadness in his little voice.

I frowned a little, not sure what to say. Luckily, I didn’t have to say anything because the woman who takes the kids across the street to their parents and guardians came to get the kids.

“Bye, students,” I waved with a smile to them.

“Bye, Ms. Y/n!”

So Atlas has someone there for him, but he’s always working. It made me sad to think about, still does.

What if this man neglects his child because he’s so busy all the time? Of course, Atlas isn’t malnourished or anything, but six year olds need attention. A lot of people use work as a way to get away from their families. What if that’s what’s going on?

I obviously can’t just accuse this man of anything, but when he comes in I’m for sure going to question him a little.

Sure, maybe I’m overreacting, but I need to make sure this father isn’t a piece of shit like I’ve seen before.

“I thought your teacher’s name was Mr. Cunningham,” the father says to his child, question in his voice.

They reach the door and enter my classroom.

Before Atlas can answer his father, I do. “Mr. Cunningham was injured, and decided to retire. I was his secondary teacher, but I’ve stepped up since he’s been gone.”

You would know that if you were ever here, I want to say, but I don’t

“Oh. Well, it’s nice to meet you,” he says kindly.

I look up at him for the first time… and holy shit. He’s gorgeous. He has fluffy brown waves that are just long enough to frame his face nicely, but aren’t too long. His face is clean shaven. His build is nice, I notice. He’s tall and lanky but underneath the suit, I’m sure there’s a fair amount of muscles.

I force myself to quit looking at him, hoping I wasn’t exactly checking him out. I look into his brown eyes and immediately regret it because they’re like a a pool of honey that could suck you in and keep you there like quicksand.

“Nice to finally meet you too,” I say. “And nice to see you again, Atlas.”

The little boy smiles at me.

“Oh forgive me,” his father laughs a little awkwardly. “I’m Spencer Reid, Atlas’s father as I’m sure you’ve presumed.”

He doesn’t reach his hand out to shake mine, but I don’t mind much.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” I gesture to the table in front of my desk. “Please, have a seat. Atlas, there’s toys over on the rug for you to play with.”

“No thank you,” he says then turns to his father. “Dad, you forgot doctor.”

“Hm?” Mr. Reid looks down at his son, seeming almost as if he had to shake himself out of looking at me.

“You forgot the doctor in front of your name!”

I smile at the kid then look up at his father. “You’re a doctor?”

“PhD,” he tells me. “I think Atlas likes to correct people on it more than I do.” He laughs softly and it makes me smile a little.

“Well, then nice to meet you Dr. Reid,” I say with that little smile still on my face.

My eyes rake down to his outfit again, and he takes notice.

“Pardon my being overdressed. I just came back from work,” Dr. Reid says.

“Where do you work?” I ask curiously, hoping I can see why he appears to be always busy.

“I’m an agent at the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit,” he tells me.

Woah. Okay maybe he’s not trying to get away from his son. Maybe work just keeps him busy. But I’m not ruling out piece of shit father just yet, no matter how attractive he is.

“Oh. That’s impressive,” I say. “I’m sure that keeps you busy.”

He nods. “Yes ma’am it does. I hate that I haven’t been able to attend all the meetings and parties, but I have promised Atlas I will be going to the Christmas party.”

I smile softly. “Good. I think it’s really special to have parents or guardians here for those types of things.”

“I agree with you,” Dr. Reid says. “I wish I could be here more. It’s just that I’m always being flown off to a different state for cases. I hope you don’t hold that against me, Ms. Y/n.”

His voice is sweet and sounds a little upset. Maybe piece of shit father can be ruled out. Maybe.

“I won’t deny that it made me a little worried,” I tell him honestly.

“Understandable.”

“But I’m glad you’re here today,” I say with a kind smile. “So this meeting is for me to tell parents about their child’s progress. As you know, the semester is almost over.”

He nods, showing me he’s listening.

“Atlas has been an excellent student all semester. He shows incredible strength in all academic subjects. Truly impressive.”

Dr. Reid smiles and nudges Atlas with his elbow. The child laughs. “Good job, bud.”

I smile, admiring the father-son moment. “He is also very kind to the other kids and me. Though, he is less social than the other children. Which is nothing to worry about right now. A lot of kids go through a shy phase.”

“He gets that from me,” Dr. Reid says. “I’m sure we can work on that.”

“Really, it’s no worry right now. It would be something to worry about if he didn’t share and wasn’t very nice, but he doesn’t seem to have trouble in those area,” I tell him.

Dr. Reid nods. “Alright. So there are no concerns?”

“None. You’ve raised a great kid.”

He smiles proudly. “Thank you. Atlas talks very highly of you, I just didn’t know you were his primary teacher now.”

I nod. “Kids leave details out sometimes.”

“Yes they do,” he chuckles. Dr. Reid stands up. “It very nice to meet you.”

I raise from my sweet as well. “You too, Dr. Reid. And I’ll see you next week for the Christmas party?”

“Yes you will,” he nods with a gentle smile.

He takes Atlas’s hand in his, and they walk out.

“Bye, Ms. Y/n!”

“Bye, sweetheart,” I grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The two walk out of my classroom. So I was wrong about Atlas’s dad. That’s a relief.

Dr. Reid and Atlas were the last meeting of the day, and the quickest. Which is a little disappointing for me. I wouldn’t have minded them staying longer. I pack up my bag and head home from the school.

———

“Your teacher seems nice,” I tell my son while buckling him into his car seat.

“Ms. Y/n’s great,” he smiles up at me.

I ruffle his light brown hair before getting into the driver’s seat. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to meet her before, kiddo.”

“It’s okay, Daddy,” he says, and it almost breaks my heart.

It makes me feel awful that I haven’t been able to attend the meetings and events for Atlas’s class. I don’t know how Hotch and JJ do this. I guess Hotch had his sister-in-law watch after Jack while he was away on cases, and JJ has Will and their babysitter.

Which is why I hired a nanny years ago. But I hate that I have to rely on her to take care of him at least 3 full days a week. He’s my child, and I want to be there for him.

Starting next week, I’m taking a sabbatical so I can be with him for the rest of the holidays. I’ll be home for the rest of December, January, and February. And I’m excited to tell him over dinner.

I’m glad I was able to attend the end of the semester parent-teacher meeting this evening. I definitely wasn’t expecting Atlas’s teacher to be so young and pretty.

All the teacher’s I had were much older and a little cranky.

But Ms. Y/n can’t be a day over twenty-eight, or at least she doesn’t look like she is.

Not only does Atlas love her, but I think she may have won over my approval as well. She seems like a nice person.

I think she caught me checking her out. Not in an inappropriate way, but I was looking at her hair, and her eyes, and her face. I couldn’t help myself. She’s attractive. Very. Anyway, I was embarrassed and red faced when she saw me looking, but at least she didn’t say anything about it.

I definitely shouldn’t be checking out my son’s teacher, but it’s just attraction. There’s nothing wrong with attraction. It would be wrong if I flirted with her. But I’m not going to

“Daddy, are you coming?” Atlas groans, waiting by the door with his backpack on.

“Yes. Patience, son, patience,” I say with a soft laugh. I’m tying my tie in front of the bathroom mirror.

I’m dressed in a red button up, black slacks, and my infamous dirty converse. I throw on a dark grey cardigan after finishing with the tie.

Atlas waits for me, checking his watch.

“We’re not late, Atlas,” I assure him. “Do you have the cookies in your bag?”

“Yep,” he nods.

“Alright, c’mon,” I say, and the two of us head out of our apartment.

Today is the Christmas party for Atlas’s kindergarten class. He seems to be thrilled I’m coming with him, and that makes me happy. Though, I did pass on my habit of worrying and being early to everything.

Last night, he helped me bake cookies for the party. Usually, I’d do store bought, but since this is the first time this year I’ve been able to attend something like this, I wanted it to be special for him.

We made little snowmen and santa hats out of frosting. Some are a little wonky, and I’m not even sure if they’re my drawings or his.

“Dr. Reid, I’m so glad you could make it!” Ms. Y/n says as I walk with Atlas into the classroom. We’re pretty early thanks to my overly punctual son. In fact, we’re the first ones here.

“Sorry. I know we’re early. You know how Atlas is,” I chuckle softly, getting the cookies out of his backpack.

“No worries,” she says with a little smile. “Nothing wrong with wanting to be early.”

She says the last sentence to Atlas.

He gives her a little smile back.

“Did you make these?” Ms. Y/n asks, gesturing to the cookies in my hands.

“Yes, I did,” I nod.

Atlas looks up at me with furrowed eyebrows.

“Sorry. We did.”

“Well, they’re adorable. Thank you so much.”

I hand her the cookies and she puts them on the snack table.

“I can help finish setting up,” I offer. “You know, since we’re so early.”

Ms. Y/n turns around, and I can’t help but notice how her hair flows nicely and her eyes meet the smile her lips give me.

“I’d really appreciate that,” she says.

Her outfit is festive; she’s got a red sweater with the word “Merry” written in cursive, there’s green ribbons in her hair, and her makeup is themed as well.

“What do you need me to do?”

She thinks for a moment. “Could you hang up that sign over there? I’m too short and didn’t feel like busting my bottom by falling off my spinny chair,” she laughs softly.

“It would be better if you didn’t, yes,” I chuckle softly as well. I pick up the festive sign and hang it up where she tells me too.

She’s got the whole classroom decorated. She seems like the type to do this for all the holidays. I wish I could’ve seen what she did for Halloween, my favorite holiday.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Reid,” she says with a smile after we finish setting up for the party.

“Please, you can call me Spencer,” I tell her. “And you’re very welcome.”

She tucks her hair behind her ear with another grin. “Alright, Spencer, fair warning. Some of these moms are a little intense.”

I raise my eyebrows with a soft chuckle. “Intense?”

“Mhm,” Ms. Y/n nods. “They always try to out due each other with the snacks and games. It’s almost sad to watch sometimes, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

I raise my hands in the air with a laugh. “Your gossip is safe with me.”

“Hey, that was not gossip! It was a warning,” she says, but can’t hold on her chuckle.

“Right,” I nod, making a face to show her I’m being sarcastic.

She rolls her eyes, a slight grin on her face.

Just before I’m about to compliment her (and probably embarrass myself), more parents and kids come into the classroom.

Atlas seems to be enjoying the party, but he doesn’t talk to many of the other kids.

Ms. Y/n makes her rounds, talking to her students and their parents or guardians. I introduce myself to some of them, but Ms. Y/n was right. They’re not the kindest. I hear some of them whispering about how I’m never around.

“How are things over here?” she asks me and Atlas as we snack on some of the goodies.

“It’s going well,” I say with a soft grin. “Just a little strange I guess.”

“Anything I can do?”

“No, ma’am I think we’re okay.”

“Hey, if I don’t have to call you doctor, you don’t have to call me Ms. or ma’am,” she says with a smile.

“Noted,” I chuckle softly.

“Thank you for coming,” she says in a low voice so Atlas can’t hear. “I know he’s glad to have you here.”

I nod. “Im glad to be here.”

The party is over soon enough, and school is let out for Christmas break.

“Are you excited for two weeks off of school?” I ask Atlas once we’re home.

“I like school,” he says.

“I always did too,” I smile softly. “But aren’t you excited for Christmas?”

“Yes. Are we going to see Henry and Michael this week?”

“Mhm,” I nod. “We’re doing our work Christmas on Friday so you’ll get to see them.”

He nods with a small smile.

Atlas is different, just like I was, still am. He’s on the spectrum too. He can show emotions, but he doesn’t do it often. He definitely feels things though, he just feels them differently than other kids.

He’s always had social problems, but he’s known Henry and Michael since he was born. He’s never seemed to have an issue with them.

I just hope he can make more friends as he grows older. It’s hard when your kid doesn’t have many buddies. I understand, of course, but it still makes me a little upset at times.

———

Okay, Atlas’s father is not only gorgeous, but he’s smart and charming too. That’s kind of inconvenient for me because I think I’m developing a crush on him.

He was helpful and kind at the party. Watching him with his son warms my heart too. He’s gentle and loving. Not many dads are as affectionate as Spencer.

I suppose he has to be since Atlas doesn’t have a mom. I wonder what happened there. Was he ever married? Did his wife die? God, I hope not. That’s sad. I would just assume they were separated, but Atlas said he doesn’t have a mom at all.

It’s halfway through Christmas break when I decide to message Spencer. It’s a professional message, of course.

Y/n: Hello, Dr. Reid. This is Y/n Y/l/n, Atlas’s teacher. Sorry to bother you, but I was just wondering how yours and Atlas’s holiday break is going?

It doesn’t take too long for him to respond.

Spencer: Y/n, nice to hear from you. Our break is going great! We spent Christmas with my mother, and Atlas had a great time. How’s yours going?”

Y/n: I’m glad he’s having fun. Mine’s going great too. I spent Christmas with my parents and siblings; it was nice.

Spencer: I’m glad you’re having fun as well. Any plans for New Year’s?

My heart flutters as if he’s asking me on a date. But I know better.

Y/n: Not yet. You?

Spencer: I’ll probably go over to my coworker’s house. Her kids are friends with Atlas.

Y/n: Oh that’s great! Are they close in age?

Spencer: Her youngest son is just a year older than Atlas, and the other is a few years older. I’m glad he has them.

Y/n: We’ll, me too. Enjoy your time with Atlas!

Spencer: Will do! I’ll see you later.

He’ll see me later. Hell yeah, he will. I’ll make sure of it.

I feel a little bad for texting him for so long, but he didn’t seem to mind.

I smile to myself, my cheeks blushing. I did text him because I wanted to check on Atlas, but I also just wanted to text him.

Maybe it was a little unprofessional, but hopefully anyone who found out, which no one will, just think I was checking on a student.

The second semester starts way too soon. I can’t believe this year is already halfway over. The kids are all hyper and excited to share their stories from Christmas break.

I have them sit on the rug in a circle and share what they did over the break. I let them be a little louder than usual just to get some energy out.

After story and play time, we do a 10 minute quiet reading.

I sit down by Atlas at his table. “You didn’t share what you did. Is everything okay?”

He sets down his book. He always reads books at a much larger lever than every other kid. It’s incredible.

He nods. “Everything’s okay.”

I’m not convinced. “What’s up then, kiddo?”

He sighs softly. “Everyone was talking about being home with their mommies and daddies and brothers and sisters. It was just me and my dad.”

There he goes. Breaking my heart again.

“Awh, Atlas,” I frown but try to be supportive. “It’s okay to be upset about that, but you are so lucky to have such a great dad. He loves you so much, you know that?”

He nods.

“There are tons of kids just like you who don’t have a mommy. You are not alone.”

He leans his head on my arm for a second. “Okay.”

I think my words got through to him, but it’s a little hard to tell.

The school day goes by and so does the whole week. I keep thinking about Atlas and his dad. I feel sorry for both of them. I don’t know what happened with Atlas’s mom, but I’m pretty sure it affects both of them often.

My phone chimes and my stomach flutters when I read the name of who texted me. He must be some psychic who can tell when someone’s thinking about him.

Spencer: So Atlas tells me there’s going to be a Valentine’s day party next month.

Y/n: Yes sir. I’m hoping to have as many parents as I can come help the kids decorate their card boxes.

Spencer: You can count me in.

Y/n: Perfect! I’ll be sending out emails within the next few weeks.

Spencer: I’ll be on the lookout. How was the rest of your break?

I smile to myself like an idiot.

Y/n: It was good! How about yours?

Spencer: Ours was good as well. Atlas has seemed a little distant this week. Has he told you anything?

Y/n: He did mention something, but I really don’t think it’s my place to bring this up.

Spencer: If he said anything to you, it is your place. If you don’t feel comfortable texting about it, we could meet up for brunch tomorrow? If that’s okay with you.

Idiotly smiling is now my special talent.

Y/n: I’ll meet you at the cafe on 7th at 10?

Spencer: I’ll see you there.

Is this a date? There’s no way it’s a date, right? It’s just a man and his kid’s teacher discussing the child.

Which definitely explains why I’m getting dressed up for this brunch right now. Well, it’s not like I’m putting on a gown or anything, but I’m wearing one of my nicest blouses tucked into a skirt.

Spencer is already seated in the cafe when I walk in. He pulls a chair out of me to sit in, and I’m pretty sure I would give him my hand in marriage right then and there.

“It’s nice to see you again, Y/n,” he says with a soft smile.

“You as well, Dr. Re- Spencer,” I chuckle softly.

“Atlas is with my friend and her kids right now, so you’ve got my undivided attention,” he says with a soft grin.

Holy shit. The butterflies are going crazy.

We order our coffee and food.

“How was the first week back?”

“It was good. The kids were a little crazy at first, but that’s normal with all the energy they need to get out.”

“I hope Atlas wasn’t giving you any trouble?”

I smile softly and shake my head. “He never does.”

“That’s good to hear,” Spencer smiles back. “So what did he talk to you about?”

I take a breath. “Well, he told me he was a little upset because all the other kids were talking about being with their families, and he was feeling a little… I guess upset about not having a mom.” My words are awkward because I have no idea how to say this to him. It’s not my place to talk about Atlas’s mom.

Spencer furrows his eyebrows and frowns. “Oh.”

“But I talked to him for a second, and I think he started to feel better,” I say, trying to give him a smile.

He nods. “It’s hard being a single dad sometimes. I know he doesn’t understand why all his peers have a mom and he doesn’t. I honestly don’t know how to handle it.”

I give him a look of sympathy and touch his hand lightly with mine. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I can’t even imagine.”

Spencer takes a deep breath. “He may be smart, but he’s still just a little kid. He needs more than what I can give him.”

“I may haven’t known you for very long, but I know you give him the best you can. You’re a great dad, and he loves you,” I tell him.

I try to take my hand away, but he holds onto it.

“I’m sorry for dumping all of that on you,” he chuckles nervously. “Sometimes I just-”

“Need someone to talk to?” I suggest, and he nods. “Me too. You can talk to me whenever you need someone.”

He smiles softly. “Thank you. You can talk to me too.”

I grin, my cheeks most definitely burning red.

“You don’t have kids, do you?”

I shake my head in answer to his question. “No. I prefer to be able to give them back when the bell rings.”

Spencer laughs, brushing some soft curls out of his face with his hand. The hand that was holding mine. It feels like it’s still holding mine. What is this man doing to me?

“Understandable.”

“I’m kidding,” I chuckle. “I want kids. Eventually.”

“How old are you?” He asks, tilting his head. Then realization hits. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I just asked that. I don’t want to seem rude.”

“No, you’re good,” I laugh softly. “I just turned 30 in October.”

“My birthday’s in October too,” he smiles.

“Really what day, mine’s the 15th?”

“28th. Though I’m a lot older than you.”

“What?” I shake my head. “No way.”

He nods. “Mhm. I’ll be 41 this year.”

“10 years isn’t a lot.”

“It’s not not a lot,” he chuckles. “You don’t even look 30. 27 at most.”

“You’re so lying right now,” I laugh, tucking my hair behind my ears. “If you’re trying to get Atlas a good grade, he already has one.”

Spencer shakes his head, laughing softly again. “I’m not lying.”

My cheeks are burning red, and I feel so silly right now. We eat brunch together and continue talking for a bit.

“I’ve got to go pick up Atlas, but it was really nice talking with you,” Spencer stands up.

I stand up along with him, and we start toward the door. He opens the door for me and lets me go out first.

“It was nice talking with you too,” I grin up at him.

“I’ll see you soon,” he says.

“You will?” I ask, blushing hard.

“Yeah. At the Valentine’s day party,” he reminds me, and I feel ridiculous.

“Right,” I chuckle awkwardly. “Have a nice weekend.”

“You too, Y/n.”

So I have a thing for my student’s dad. I’m fucked.

—————

I cannot be doing this. I swore to myself that I wouldn’t get involved with anyone after Atlas’s mom. I can’t risk it. I can’t risk getting hurt again.

But despite my swearing off romance, I’m falling for her. It’s extremely inconvenient and a little annoying.

No matter how gorgeous, smart, and charming she is, I have to stop thinking about her the way I am. I’m imagining the way her lips would taste on mine and how soft her skin is.

But I know more than anyone that it’s nearly impossible to stop thinking about things like this. We want what we can’t have. It’s only human.

So I’ll allow myself to want her. But I won’t allow myself to have her.

Letting people in only leads to heartbreak. That’s something I’ve learned in my 40 years of living.

I was in love in her. Like the cheesy head over heals we read about in romance books. She was beautiful and confident.

I finally got the nerve to ask her out, and to my surprise she said yes.

I was too blind and in love to realize that she was only interested in the sex. She didn’t actually care.

I remember the exact moment she told me she was pregnant. I was ecstatic. I’ve wanted to be a father since I could remember.

I wrapped my arms around her, kissed her forehead, and told her we could do this together. We could handle it.

The look on her face didn’t match mine though.

“I don’t want to do this together! Spencer, are you crazy? We can’t have a baby. I just got promoted. I’ve got to focus on my job, not a needy child,” she told me.

I felt my heart sink down to the flow below my feet. “What?”

“Spencer,” she sighed. “C’mon. We’ve only been together for five months. We barely even know each other. We can’t be parents.”

And now it was being stepped on, crushed beneath her high heels.

“Then we’ll get to know each other better… Lily, I love you.”

She shook her head. “No, you don’t, Spencer. And I don’t love you. We were just having fun. I don’t want this baby. And I don’t want to be with you either.”

How could she tell me what I felt? I knew what I felt. I was in love in her. I wanted to have this baby with her. We could’ve been a happy little family.

I looked down at my shoes, and I was pretty sure I saw my no longer beating heart laying there near them.

She was like a black widow, but instead of using me to mate with and eating my head, she ripped my heart out and chewed it up.

“Please, Lily,” I whispered, pleaded. “I’ll take care of the baby. You don’t have to do anything. Just please don’t…”

“Fine. I’ll have the baby, but don’t expect me to be involved in its life. Or yours.”

It? Our child was just an it to her?

I nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

I felt sick to my stomach for the entire nine months on top of the heartbreak.

She wouldn’t let me help her. She barely spoke to me when I asked her how she was doing.

I got to be there for his birth, and I’ll always be grateful for that.

Soon enough, it was legally official that I had full custody, and she didn’t have to pay child support.

So instead of a happy family with the woman I loved and our beautiful son, I got a beautiful son I worried about every day. Worried that I wouldn’t be enough for him.

I still worry about that even six years later.

I made the promise to myself and to Atlas that I wouldn’t be with anyone ever again for both of our sakes when he was just a year old.

I made the promise to protect both of us from heartbreak. I wouldn’t get my heart ripped out again, and Atlas wouldn’t have false hope about someone staying with us.

The promise has been fairly easy to keep. Of course, there’s been a few women I wanted to sleep with and even have a relationship with. But I knew self control was key. If not for myself, for Atlas.

Sometimes I find myself wondering how Lily’s doing, wanting to call her and tell her how our son, no, my son is brilliant and beautiful. But I know she doesn’t care. Just like she didn’t actually care about me.

To her, the last six years have not been full of anxiety, doctors bills, daycare, hiring a nanny, and praying to whatever or whoever is out there that Atlas will be safe wherever he goes. It’s probably been a great six years for her. And it has been for me too; I love my son with everything in me. I just can’t pretend it hasn’t been hard.

Now, I find myself wondering if Y/n thinks of me the same way I think about her. But it’s not like it matters because I’m not going to act on my attraction to her.

part two

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