#like i just saw an email today from one of the teachers that was like “you need to contact your wbl instructor or you risk being dropped

[dr-gaytorius]

Ok so like worst case scenario I get dropped from a class and have to pay for it and my graduation will be delayed by a semester so like my life is not over but I gotta be honest it does kind of feel like it.

[pathologicalreid]

a long way to go | s.r.

in which your family breaks no contact and Spencer reminds you that you're doing the right thing

margovember

kindergarten teacher!reader masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst? (hurt/comfort) content warning: nondescript childhood trauma, kindergarten teacher!reader word count: 1.4k a/n: okay so the request was for angst and it is but the comfort gives fluff. at this point my genres are arbitrary. huge shout out to anyone else who isn't going home for thanksgiving for one reason or another.

Frowning at the email on your computer, you shifted your weight on your rotating chair and leaned your head back into the chair cover that Garcia had crocheted for you.

We’d love for you to join us.

It felt as though someone had tossed a bucket of ice water over your head, years and years of blocking emails and leaving your phone number unlisted had culminated in this moment. It shouldn’t surprise you; you worked at a public school and your email was listed in the faculty directory, but the sight of your father’s name left a sour taste in your mouth.

You were alone in your classroom, the fluorescent lights were turned off, leaving you in the gentle illumination of the string lights that you kept threaded along the walls. Contract hours were over, but you still had papers that needed to be completed. Opening your email after the final bell had thrown a wrench in your plans.

A knock on your door pulled you out of your haze, you looked up to see Spencer standing in the doorway. You checked the time in the corner of your monitor to find that it was nearly six, well into the evening, and you hadn’t even noticed. “Did we have plans?” You asked, alarm rising in your tone, you looked down at your day planner and didn’t see anything, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t miss something.

“No,” Spencer said immediately, wanting to quell any of your anxieties before they had the chance to develop. “I hadn’t heard from you today, so I might’ve asked Garcia if she had your location on your phone and found that you were at work much later than usual,” he told you, setting his messenger bag on one of your student’s desks before leaning against yours.

You leaned over your desk, setting your chin in your hands and sighing. “You found me,” you mumbled unenthusiastically, eyeing your monitor again.

He’d cut his hair again, in a moment of frustration he’d started snipping, but he ended up calling you for help. It no longer feathered the tops of his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” Spencer asked, tilting his head to the side and tapping the bobblehead you kept on your desk.

Taking a deep breath, you shook your head, “Nothing, I just have a lot of work to do.” You were designing a holiday coloring page, making the outlines yourself because you didn’t like any of the ones you found on the internet.

“Okay,” Spencer responded, extending his vowels. “Now you’re lying to me,” he said. It wasn’t an accusation; he was merely stating the truth.

It bothered you that he was right, and it bothered you that you lied to him. You shouldn’t feel the need to lie to him because, really, if anyone was going to understand how you felt about the email, it was Spencer. You wedged your hands beneath your thighs, keeping yourself from digging your nails into your palms, “My father sent me an email.”

Dad felt too casual, and his first name felt too detached. He was just your father, someone who had been chosen time and time again over you, and whom you hadn’t spoken to in nearly six years. “When’s the last time you saw him?”

“Five years ago,” you answered distantly, remembering how he’d had the nerve to show up at your college graduation even though the rest of your family knew you weren’t in contact with him. Wetting your lips, you looked back at the email on your screen, “He wants me to spend Thanksgiving with him and his family.” People that you shared no connection to—blood or otherwise—and made up the family that had taken your place in his life.

Spencer straightened up a stack of papers on your desk, the shuffling sound so familiar that it put you at ease, “What do you want to do?”

You pinched your eyebrows together, not used to someone asking for your wants, “I want to reply to him, but I know that engaging with him would be equivalent to opening the floodgates.” Releasing a dam of trauma that wasn’t suited for your kindergarten classroom, “I can’t reply to this email.”

Nodding softly, Spencer studied your eyes with a pained look in his eyes, “I know, honey.”

Taking the computer mouse in your trembling hand, you scrolled over the email and blocked the sender before deleting the email and deleting it from the trash for good measure. Hot tears welled in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around yourself, “I hate him.”

You despised him. A man who you shared blood with just so happened to be someone you hated with bone in your body. Bones he had contributed to that you wished you could pull from your body and replace with an untainted set. What was worse was that he had the ability to influence your emotions like this, he could make you angry with nothing more than digital mail.

Anger felt so useless, it was something he used as armor, and you feared that by being angry, you were becoming like him. You were so horrified by the mere idea of your own anger that it made you cry, and you were terrified of your life becoming one big circle.

They say if you grow up with an angry man in your house, then there will always be an angry man in your house. All you needed was to believe in Spencer’s ability to be gentle, but nothing Spencer did would change the fact that you cried as soon as you were pricked with rage.

Spencer crouched in front of you, taking both of your hands in his larger ones and keeping them warm for you. “You don’t owe them anything,” he told you, watching you carefully with his big brown eyes, “It hurts. I know it hurts right now, but you know that you just did the right thing. I’ll remind you of it for as long as it takes for you to believe it.”

The dam broke then, tears fall from your chin to your lap as Spencer gathered you in his arms to the best of his ability, you tried not to flinch away from his embrace. You reminded yourself that he wasn’t there to hurt you, he was there to help you. He ran his palm flat along your spine as you gave in, burying your face in the crook of his neck and basking in the darkness of your own sorrow.

“You did the right thing,” he muttered softly, pulling away and using the pads of his thumbs to wipe away your tears. “You don’t need to apologize to anyone about it,” he said preemptively, knowing you were about to apologize to him for your show of emotion.

You nodded dazedly, leaning your cheek into his palm as he cupped your face with his hands, “I don’t know what I do now.”

Spencer smiled gently at you, “We’re gonna keep moving forward. Are you hungry? Do you want to get dinner?”

Sighing, you shrugged despondently, looking back at your now blank monitor, “I should get some stuff done.” You wiggled the mouse and typed in your password, you stared blankly at your unfinished coloring page, any and all motivation to finish the drawing had vacated as soon as your father made contact.

“What if,” Spencer started, “You come home with me tonight, and tomorrow I’ll come in with you? You can finish up your work and I’ll get to spend some time with you.” Spencer Reid might just be the only person willing to accompany you to work on a Saturday just because you’re having a hard time.

You bowed your head, “You don’t have to do this, Spence.”

He hummed in response, “I want to, and besides—we have plans to make.”

You frowned, your head lifting so you could look him in the face and inquire for more details, “Plans for what?”

“Thanksgiving,” he responded as if it should’ve been obvious, “You’ll get to join BAUsgiving this year, it’s one of Garcia’s favorite holidays.”

Faltering, your eyes widened at his insistence, and you took a deep breath, “I’m not… I don’t want to intrude on your family time.”

Spencer raised his eyebrows incredulously, “Honey, you’re part of that family now. Besides, sometimes I think the team likes you more than me.”

[zepskies]

Lost Time

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: When Russell takes longer than usual on a job out of town, you realize how hard it is to live half a life with him.  

AN: I’ve been wanting to get to this for a while now! Here’s a sequel story in the Every Second Counts world. Also, this is one of my entries for @jacklesversebingo!

Prompt: “Are you trying to get us in trouble?”

Word Count: 4.9K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, fluff upon fluff, implied smut, mild spice.~ **DOES NOT contain spoilers for 2x02. This was written long before the new episode came out. But look out for the little announcement at the end. Some (smutty) bonus content on the way!

💜 Series Masterlist || Jacklesverse Bingo Masterlist

Wolfing down lunch alone in your office usually meant you wouldn’t be disturbed. That distraction tended to come in the form of either Dr. Goldstein, History Department Chair (AKA: your boss), or Chris Belmont.

The latter was a language arts professor who liked to pop in on you when you were alone in the teacher’s lounge, often trying to revive yourself with a cup of Keurig coffee. Or he’d sit down next to you (uninvited) and talk your ear off.

Today, however, you made time for your brother between bites of your admittedly sad ham sandwich. You held the phone to your ear while you ate and tried to resist the urge to answer emails. This was the first month that he’d gotten phone privileges. You wanted to give him your undivided attention.

Not to mention, you genuinely wanted to know how Charlie was doing in rehab. He told you that his leg was healing up well after the surgery to repair the damage from Eddie Mendez’s bullet. Charlie was also getting put through his paces in the substance rehabilitation program, but he sounded truly sober. He sounded like himself.

“I finally get visitors this weekend,” he said. “Dave and Manny are coming by.”

“Dave and Manny. They sound familiar,” you said, tapping your chin with a pen out of habit, even though you weren’t writing anything down. You brightened with recognition. “Oh! Didn’t they serve with you?”

“Yeah, they were in my unit on the first go-round,” Charlie said, with a tone of fondness that you recognized. You remembered now. Those guys were like his brothers during his first tour of Iraq. He’d come home for a few months afterward, changed. You saw it behind his eyes.

And then the second tour. That was what almost killed his spirit.

“It’s good that you guys reconnected,” you said. A smile graced your lips. Charlie needed all the support and familiarity he could get, and coming from his brothers in the Air Force, it was all you could ask for really. “You got time to see your little sister?”

“Ha. Younger maybe. Definitely not little.”

“Whatever, gimpy,” you teased. He’d told you that he hated his crutches, made him feel like an old, one-legged pirate.

“I think I can pencil you in,” he said. There was good humor in his voice. “How about the Mountain Man? How’s he doing?”

Your smile dimmed. You twiddled your pen between your fingers. “He’s…good. He’s on a job right now, so I don’t think he’ll make it back in time for this weekend. But I’m sure he’d wish you well. He asks about you every time he comes home.”

“Oh, yeah? How long’s he been gone for this time?”

Your lips pursed. “Couple weeks.”

Three, and counting.

“But he’s supposed to get back next week.”

“Have you heard from him?” Charlie asked.

“Here and there,” you replied, leaning to one side of your desk chair. “He’s not really supposed to contact anyone when he’s on a job.”

“Mhmm.”

“Charlie,” you warned. You knew what he was thinking, even by that placid tone of his voice. Your brother sighed on the line.

“Look, I like Russell. What can I say, after what he did for you? For me,” Charlie said. “But…I don’t have to like what he does, or what it’s doing to you.”

Your teeth clenched, but you tried not to bristle. You knew he was just looking out for you, for once like an older brother should.

“I know what you’re saying, but we’re good. I’m good,” you said. “I knew what I was getting into…”

You saw Dr. Goldstein peek into the narrow, rectangular window in the middle of your office door. He gave you a little wave through the glass.

“Hey, Charlie, I’m sorry but I need to let you go. My boss wants to talk to me,” you said.

Another heavy sigh. “All right, I get it. Evade an unsavory conversation by playing the ‘boss’ card.”

Despite yourself, you smiled. “It’s true! Look, I love you. I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Oh, fine. Evade away… Love you too,” he said begrudgingly, but in the kind of way that told you he was smiling too.

You hung up with him and beckoned Goldstein inside. He let himself in and closed the door behind him before he approached your desk. He didn’t have a stack of essays in his hand, so you counted that as a small blessing. After exchanging the usual pleasantries, however, he dropped a familiar bomb on you.

“I’m sorry to do this to you, sweetheart, but would you mind taking over my 5:00 p.m. class tomorrow? I have to step out early for an appointment,” he said.

You grated internally, for more than one reason. Primarily at the way he once again called you sweetheart. In your whole life, you’d only ever given one man permission to sweetheart you, and it certainly wasn’t Paul Goldstein.

“Well, my schedule is a bit tight tomorrow, but I think I can make that work—”

“Great! Thanks again, sweetheart,” he said, already getting up from the chair across from your desk to head out. Your voice stopped him at the door.

“Ah, you know…” You stood up from your desk. Part of you was hesitant, but the other part of you—the part that had survived nearly being shot and killed in the woods—stood firm. You rounded your desk but left a respectable distance between you and your boss.

“Paul, I would appreciate it if you would just…call me by my name. In a more professional capacity, just like I do for you,” you said. “Sweetheart, honey, that kind of thing just doesn’t make me feel very respected in the workplace.”

Goldstein blinked in surprise. He was taken aback, you could tell, as if what you’d said had never once occurred to him. Or maybe he just never thought you would call him out like that. You saw him mentally calculating though. After some recent sexual harassment allegations in the Sciences department, he likely didn’t want the headache and the red tape of an HR writeup.

“Of course. I’m sorry if I… Well, I hope you know I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said.

“I know, Paul,” you replied. But what you didn’t say was, It’s all right. 

The longer you remained quietly poised with your hands laced in front of you, the more Goldstein seemed to get the message. Eventually, he cast his gaze away and left your office with a parting nod. 

When the door shut behind him, your shoulders slumped as you let out a deep breath. You grabbed onto his vacated chair to steady yourself, smoothing your hand down the length of your pencil skirt. 

“Well, okay then.” You smiled to yourself and grabbed your phone and keys off your desk. That small win deserved an afternoon coffee break.

You ventured over to the faculty break room and started setting up an extra-large mug of coffee from the Keurig. Pumpkin spice, here I come. Finally PSL season. 

While you waited for it to percolate, you checked your phone and found no missed notifications, no calls or texts from your boyfriend. Biting the edge of your lip, you gave into the urge to check your text thread with him. 

Hey, just checking in. You okay? 

That was the last text you sent Russell, a few days ago. The fact that he hadn’t had time to read it worried you.

It had been three weeks since he left town on another job for the Horizon Group. He was able to reply here and there on some jobs, but often you had to deal with days of radio silence in between. This time, it had been a full two weeks since you last spoke to him–a five-minute call after he checked into his hotel, somewhere in Belize.

Despite your attempts otherwise, not a day had gone by where you hadn’t thought about him, worried about him, wondered where he was, and what he was doing. 

Even after four months, this arrangement hadn’t gotten easier. Sometimes, it felt like you were living half a life without him.

The coffeemaker chiming briefly broke you out of your melancholy, but you let the coffee sit there and cool while you deliberated with your phone in hand.

You tried to resist, since you didn’t want to bother him…but you ended up sending him another text. 

Hey. I don’t want to distract you. Just want you to know… 

I miss you.

“Oh, look who’s here.”

You looked up, already wanting to expel a breath of annoyance at the familiar voice. You plastered on a polite smile and turned to see exactly who you expected to see: your colleague Chris. There was really nothing wrong with the French and Spanish professor…except that he talked too much, and was often too eager to get into your business.

“How’s your day going?” he asked. After he grabbed a soda from the fridge, he parked himself in front of you and laid a hand on the counter. With one of the round dining tables so close, it ensured that you would have to squeeze by him in order to leave.

“Pretty good, just have one more class before I head out for the day,” you said. You intended to just make amiable conversation, but you didn’t realize you’d just given him an opening.

“You know, me too. Just my freshman Spanish 1 kids. Dumb as doornails really. They barely even look up when I talk,” he said. “Literally, I could be reciting Mein Kampf and they wouldn’t even know I was speaking German.” 

You couldn’t quite smile. You opened your mouth to reply, but he beat you to it.

“Hey, since we’re going to be clocking out soon, maybe you want to go for a drink with me. I know this bar. A little rough, but the price is right and the food’s not bad. This place called Howley’s,” he said.

Your non-smile dropped further. You really didn’t know where to start on this one.

“Ah, well—” you began, but again, he cut you off.

“To be honest, I’ve kind of been meaning to ask you for a while. I just uh, haven’t been able to find the right time. Since, you know, our class schedules don’t seem to match,” he added with a boyish smile.

He was cute, you could admit, with the dirty blonde hair down to his ears and the dark brown eyes. But it didn’t shake your resolve.

“Look, Chris. I’m sorry, but—”

“Is because we work together?” he said, once again interrupting you. “The whole workplace relationship thing?”

“No,” you said. It was sharper than you meant through your annoyance. “I actually have a boyfriend.”

Chris’s excited-nervous energy gradually deflated, his eyes dimming.

“Really? I’ve never seen you with anyone,” he said.

You quirked a brow at him. “Well, he doesn’t work here, so he wouldn’t really need to come to campus.”

You didn’t tell him that Russell was Dory’s older brother, and had in fact been on campus a couple of times. You shouldn’t have needed to explain it.

Chris gave you a wry look. “Sure. You really have a boyfriend, or are you just trying to let me down easy?”

You almost gaped at the man’s audacity. Instead, your lips pressed together, and your head tilted as you stared at him incredulously.

“Does it matter?” you asked.

He blinked. “Uh, what?” 

“Whatever I say next, are you going to believe it?” You finished dumping in a couple of tiny creamer cups into your likely lukewarm coffee, and you took the styrofoam cup to-go. “Good luck with the freshmen.” 

You slid past him and left the teacher’s lounge. Your path took you, brusquely and irritated, back to your office. You couldn’t help but replay every bit of your interactions with Goldstein, and then Chris, in your mind like a bad movie. 

Jesus Christ. If I have to deal with one more idiotic man today, I swear—

Speak of the devil, and he appears.

There was a man leaning against your office door, his hands in the pocks of his jeans. He looked up at your approach, and he smiled. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

This time, you paused…and you smiled too. There he was in all his rugged glory. Russell Shaw. 

You dumped your coffee in a nearby trashcan and hastened over as quickly as you could in your skirt and heels. Russell bent down to sweep you up into his arms, and you leaned up on your toes so you could wrap yours around his shoulders. You buried your face into his neck, inhaling the familiar mix of his cologne and spicy soap. 

“Missed you too,” he said, a deep rumble. It washed over you pleasantly. 

“I thought you weren’t getting home until sometime next week,” you said, trying to work past the thick well of emotion in your throat. Maybe he heard it in your voice anyway, because Russell soothed a hand over your hair and pressed a kiss near your ear.

“Got finished up early,” he said, with that familiar grin of his. You could hear it in his voice.

You slipped your fingers through his long dark hair. Then you leaned back enough to see his face. 

“How’d you know I wasn’t in class?” you asked. 

He raised his hand off your back to point up at the sign on your door. It displayed your office hours and the times you were in class. He shot you a wink.

“I might’ve called Dory too,” he said. “She invited us over for dinner tonight. I said we’d be there around seven.”

You tsked and smack his chest, making him flinch. 

“Hey!” he protested with a laugh. 

“Don’t agree to stuff without me! Now we’re going to be out all night the day you get back,” you said in annoyance. 

Russell smoothed down your proverbial feathers, namely by slipping his hands down your back and comfortably settling on your waist. 

“Now, come on,” he cajoled. “Need I remind you that she’s my sister, and your best friend, by the way?”

You waved a playfully dismissive hand.

“I know damn well, but I’m also selfish,” you said. You gripped the edges of his familiar green jacket and tugged him closer again. “I want you all to myself tonight.” 

Russell’s grin kicked up into high gear. “Oh, yeah? What for?”

You smiled and leaned up on your toes again, your lips approaching his. 

“I’m gonna—”

“Hey, Professor!” 

Just then, one of your students walked by with a gaggle of her friends. She gave you a little wave, and then an amused look when she noted how you and Russell were intertwined. You quickly set your heels back on the ground and dropped your hands from him. 

“Oh shit. Prof’s got game,” one of her friends whispered. 

“Yeah, a lumberjack,” she replied. 

“Hell, I’d climb him.”

The girls giggled quietly as they continued to make their way down the hall. 

Your hand rose to cover your mouth while your face burned hot in embarrassment. Russell, damn him, was smirking like the Cheshire cat. You shot him a little glare. 

“Shut up,” you said. 

He chuckled, and he allowed you to take his hand and lead him into your office. He closed the door for you, but that was where the chivalry ended. 

He hooked his arm around your waist and brought you flush against him. A stunned yelp escaped you. You grabbed onto his arms on reflex, craning your face up to meet him. A smile played on your lips, before he captured them in a kiss filled with heat, and the torture of longing, only broken by your shared relief.  

You had the presence of mind to reach behind him and lock the door. Russell took that as an invitation to back you up against your desk, knocking down a carton of pens in his wake. You held his bearded face and gave him as much as he asked for. Until the pace of his kisses eventually slowed and warmed into something more tender, with the brush of his hand against your cheek. You smiled a little against his lips. 

He ended up being the first to pull away. His thumb brushed your chin next, and then your thoroughly kissed bottom lip. 

“God, I missed you,” he said. You saw the sincerity in his eyes, all the heat and play and teasing aside.

“Me too, baby,” you replied, and your voice was heavy with the truth of it. You slid your hands down his arms. Suddenly you remembered your internal checklist for whenever he came home. “You okay? No hospital stays or checkups needed?”

Your hands continued their perusal over his chest and down his sides. Russell took your hands and un-busied them. 

“Completely fine. Everything went off without a hitch,” he said. 

You eyed him more warily. After a moment to try and discern if he was downplaying for your sake, you were able to take him at his word. For now. It wouldn’t be the first time he tried to hide an injury from you. You intended to complete a further examination later tonight. You smirked a little at the thought.

“Okay, I’ve just got one more class in a few minutes. Then I can get out of here,” you said.

“All right,” he nodded. “I’ll meet you at home then.”

Your smile turned cheeky. You flattened your palms down his chest, plucking at the edges of his jacket.  

“Yeah? You gonna be waiting pretty for me?” you teased. 

“You bet,” he agreed. He leaned in close to say lowly in your ear, “But not as pretty as you’re gonna be when I get you all laid out for me. Get myself reacquainted with every sweet part of you.”

“Oh, really?” you said, trying to taper your blush. There was something entirely wrong and right about him talking dirty to you in your own office. You grinned as he began to press tantalizing kisses down your neck. “I guess I’m going to be the appetizer tonight.” 

His chuckle resounded in your ears. Russell squeezed your hips and brushed his lips against your skin. Damn him, he knew exactly what he was doing, making small volts of electricity zip down your spine. Warmth plumed between your legs as his beard gently rasped along your neck. 

“Sweetheart, you’re the whole damn meal,” he said, in that voice of his, smooth and baritone and perfect. 

Your blush intensified, even as your smile couldn’t help but brighten at his words. He nipped just under your ear, earning a stifled whimper from you.

“Are you trying to get us in trouble?” you whispered.

“Hey, I don’t work here,” he teased. His lips never left your skin. “I just reap the benefits.”

You fought against the urge to pinch his side. You grabbed your phone from your desk and checked the time. Shit. Almost 5:00 p.m.

All the while, Russell continued to torture you. His hands were no better than his mouth, caressing a path from your waist to your hips, then squeezing your ass as he pressed you more fully against him. He hummed against your neck.

“Oh, please don’t do this to me,” you whined, even as you clung to the front of his jacket and pressed your forehead into his shoulder. “I have to get to class in like, five minutes.” 

“I’ve accomplished quite a lot in five minutes,” Russell said. His nibbling along the shell of your ear was all too distracting as you laughed. 

“Oh, I know,” you dryly replied. “But if I let you get your hands on me now, I’m most certainly not going to be able to lecture on the ancient civilization of Mesopotamia.”

His smile grew. “I like it when you talk nerdy to me.”

Your laugh turned into a giggle. Still, your duty to your students won out. You had to press a gentle hand against his chest to push him back.

Russell let out a long-suffering groan, but he pulled away from you without losing his smile. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind your ear and caressed your cheek. 

“I’ll see you at home,” he said. 

You agreed, though when he aimed to leave, you couldn’t resist the urge to smack his ass on his way out of your office. 

He stopped short and twisted back, pointing a knowing finger at you. 

“You don’t play fair, missy,” he said. 

You smirked and tossed a kiss at him.

“See you later,” you said.

You loved Dory. You really did. But after a day like today, you were happy to finally be home after dinner at your best friend’s house. You were happy to be where you were in this moment, lying in bed with Russell, wearing nothing but one of his old shirts as Speed played on the TV against the wall. 

“You didn’t leave me…I can’t believe it. You didn’t leave me,” you quoted along with Annie, Sandra Bullock’s character. 

“Didn’t have anywhere to be just then,” Jack (the beautiful Keanu Reeves) said on the screen. The couple shared a kiss, and you let out a happy hum, making Russell look down on you in bemusement. He had an arm wrapped around you as you laid tucked against his side.

“I have to warn you,” you said for Jack. “I’ve heard relationships based on intense experiences never work.” 

“Okay,” Annie (and you) replied. “We’ll have to base it on sex then.”

Jack smiled. “Whatever you say, ma’am.”

As the movie came to an end, you sighed and lowered the volume as the credits rolled. 

“How’d you like it?” you asked.

“Was good! Even though my movie buddy decided to quote half the cast,” Russell quipped. He prodded at your side like a pianist playing a Mozart cantata, making you flinch with a squawk of laughter. You grabbed his hand to try and stop him. 

When he finally let up, you sighed and caught your breath, leaning against him again.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never seen that movie,” you said. “Practically any movie, for that matter.”

“Hey, I’ve seen stuff…it’s just, you know, we didn’t really have much access to pop culture growing up,” Russell said. 

You sobered up; you were reminded that he didn’t have a normal childhood, even less so than yours. 

“That’s okay,” you said, resting a comforting hand on his chest. “I’m gonna keep helping you catch up, long as you want me to.”

Russell smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I appreciate that.”

You closed your eyes in content. 

“So,” Russell said, interrupting your peace. You heard the mischief in his voice before he even said anything else. “Am I gonna have to knock this Beaufort guy on his ass, or you got that one covered, slugger?”

You huffed in amusement. 

“Belmont,” you corrected, opening your eyes again to shoot him a wry glance. “And there won’t be any ass-kicking needed on that one. Just a typical hard-headed man with a slighted ego.”

“Oof, cut him some slack, baby. You’re a hard one to let go of,” Russell teased. You smiled.

“Hey. Don’t butter me up unless you intend to do something about it.”

“Oh, my apologies,” he said. He turned over and waylaid you with kisses along your jaw, then down the column of your throat, and further still, until he met the edge of your shirt. You felt his hands move under the hem of it, slowly bunching up the material as they slid up your body.  

Your first coming together when you two got home tonight was fraught, and a bit wild—the kind that nearly broke your headboard (again). 

Now, Russell seemed to want to take his time. He guided your shirt up, inch by inch as his lips explored whatever small expanse he bared, from the soft skin of your stomach, to the swell of your breasts. He stopped there, laying a sweet kiss in between them. You watched him with deeper breaths, but you softened when he turned his smile up at you. You saw nothing but affection in his eyes. 

“You know, the best part of my day is coming home to you,” he said.

You had to blink past the sting in your eyes, and swallow past another lump of emotion in your throat as you reached down to caress his cheek.

The hardest part of mine is watching you leave.

But you didn’t dare say that. You just guided him back up to your lips, and met him with a heated kiss.

You were nearly asleep when Russell finally came back to bed, after double-checking that the house was all locked up. He installed a more sophisticated security system a few months ago. It made him feel slightly better about leaving you alone. 

He padded back over to the bed and joined you on his side. You rested your head on his shoulder again, and he slid an arm around your waist. 

“Charlie’s doing well in his program, huh?” Russell asked. 

You’d been talking about your brother with him and Dory at dinner. 

You nodded. “Looks like it… God, I’m so proud of him. He’s really worked hard.”

Russell hummed deeply. “Glad to hear it.”

You glanced up at him, for a moment admiring his profile. He looked down and met your gaze.

“How long are you going to be home?” you asked, because you couldn’t stop yourself.

When you and Russell first started dating, he tried staying at a motel for a few weeks. You eventually invited him to just stay with you when he was in town. It made it easier to spend more time with him, since you worked a full-time schedule anyway. It was nice to come home to him, when he was here. After the surprise wore off, however, the fear always returned.

When is he leaving next?

“I don’t have another job lined up just yet,” Russell admitted. “Wanna take a couple weeks off, since this one lasted so long. I’m sorry about that.”

You were glad to hear it, so you nodded, but you had a feeling your true thoughts weren’t as well hidden as you intended. Russell searched your face.

“How’re you doing with all this?” he asked.

Your heart seized up, but you tried to play it off.

“What do you mean? We had some good food, good catching up on ‘90s movie magic, good making up for lost time,” you said playfully. You slid your leg across his lap. Russell welcomed you, drawing a hand up your thigh and under his shirt that once again hung loosely from your body. You had to reclaim it from somewhere between the sheets.

He still raised his brows at you. “You know what I mean.”

Slowly, your smile fell. Your gaze lowered. 

“Russ, I’m doing my best.”

“I know you are, sweetheart, and I appreciate that. You don’t know how much,” he said, stroking your back. “I just, uh…I know this is hard on you.”

He understood Tracy, Doug’s wife, even better now. He had been better able to sympathize with Doug too, because for the first time in his life, he had someone to come home to. Someone who was actually waiting on him to come home. It was a bigger responsibility than he thought it would be. 

You sighed. 

“Look, I’m not going to lie, this…it’s been hard as hell,” you began, closing your hand around his. “But I love you. I love you, and I still think we have a good thing here.”

That warmed him, reminded him why this was worth it. Russell nodded in agreement, and he crossed the few inches of distance that allowed him to kiss you, good and slow. 

“I love you too,” he admitted. He could count on half a hand the number of times that happened in his life, but even though it hadn’t been all that long…he thought you might be the one that finally stuck. 

Your pretty smile was just one piece of evidence. You gave that to him, and you reached up for a kiss. He obliged you in turn.  

“How about we put a timeframe on it then,” he said, after parting softly from you. 

You tilted your head in confusion, tinged with disbelief. “What?”

“How about you give me…’til the end of the year,” he said. “I know I’ve been taking a lot of jobs lately. It’s because I’m pretty close to my goal. I’ve almost got enough to find some good real estate and start working on that bar.”

Your drowsiness fell away completely as your excitement grew for him.

“Oh my God. Russ, that’s amazing!” 

Your support softened him that much more, deepening his smile. He framed your face with a hand and stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“Here’s a promise,” he said. “Six months, and no more missions. No more jobs. You’ll be stuck with me, so much that you’ll probably get sick of me.”

Your smile grew to radiant proportions.

“Hmm, maybe a little,” you teased, “but I’ll make that sacrifice.”

He grinned and drew you into another kiss. You paused, holding his bearded cheek. 

“Thank you,” you said. Russell shook his head.

“Aw, sweetheart,” he said. “You never gotta thank me for that.”

AN: Let me know if you enjoyed this little addition to ESC! 💜

Bonus Drabble:

After watching 2x02 yesterday, it gave me...feelings lol. So I ended up writing a new (very smutty) drabble to fill in a small gap in this one-shot! It's called More of This:

Summary: Welcoming Russell home, where he belongs. (18+) 

▶️ Keep Reading: More of This

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[dollielliot]

𐙚ྀིྀ ⠀︵　info on the Apalchee highschool shooting that happened today, 9/4/24˖ ㅤ૮𐔌ྀི ´ ཀ ྀི 𐦯ྀིა⠀

The 14-year-old suspect in the fatal mass shooting at a Winder, Georgia, high school has been identified as Colt Gray, Georgia Bureau of Investigation Director Chris Hosey said at an afternoon news conference. The suspect is a student at Apalachee High School who will be charged with murder and will be handled as an adult as he moves through the criminal justice system, Hosey and Barrow County Sheriff Jud Smith added.

Two teachers and two students were killed, Hosey said. Nine other victims were taken to hospitals, according to the officials. The gunfire sent students and faculty desperately scurrying for cover as schools across the county went into lockdown and parents scrambled for information. Wednesday’s shooting is the deadliest of the 45 school shootings so far this calendar year, according to a CNN analysis. It is one of 11 school shootings with four or more deaths since 2008 when CNN first started tracking school shootings. Authorities said the first report of an active shooter came in at 10:20 a.m. ET. A school resource deputy assigned to Apalachee High confronted the shooter, who got on the ground and was taken into custody, Smith told reporters.

The witness sat next to the suspected shooter

Lyela Sayarath, 16, told CNN the alleged shooter sat next to her in an algebra class. She said he left class early, around 9:45 a.m., but didn’t take a bathroom pass. She thought he might be skipping. Toward the end of class, someone told her teacher over the loudspeaker to check their email, she said. Shortly after, Gray was outside the classroom door, which was shut, Lyela said. Another student who went to the door jumped backward when she saw he had a gun. "I guess he saw we weren’t gonna let him in,” Lyela said. “And I guess the classroom next to me, their door was open, so I think he just started shooting in the classroom.” At first, she told CNN she heard a burst of gunfire – maybe 10 to 15 shots – and then they were “kind of just Students dropped to the floor and crawled to the corner, Lyela said.

“It seemed like this wasn’t something he planned too well or that he wasn’t really strong with the gun because he didn’t try and shoot our door. Once he saw he couldn’t get in our room, he just went to the next one.”

Latest developments

The high school had received an earlier phone threat, multiple law enforcement officials told CNN. The phone call Wednesday morning warned there would be shootings at five schools, and that Apalachee would be the first. It is not known who placed the call. It was not immediately known whether the assailant had some connection with his victims, the sheriff said, though officials stressed that will be part of the investigation. Schools in Barrow County will be closed for the rest of the week.

Student texted mom: ‘I’m scared’

Erin Clark was at work Wednesday morning when she got a series of text messages from her son, a senior, who was attending class at Apalachee High School.

“School shooting.”

“I’m scared,” he wrote.

“pls” “I’m not joking,”

“I’m leaving work,” Clark replied. “I love you,” her son, Ethan Haney, 17, wrote back.

“Love you too baby,” his mom texted before racing to the high school.

Clark told CNN her son heard eight or nine gunshots before he closed his classroom door and, with the help of another classmate, moved chairs and tables to block the door.

Clark told CNN she was “absolutely terrified” when she read her son’s messages. “Just kept praying he’d stay safe,” she said.

Schools in the county went into lockdown

As emergency responders came from several counties, video from outside the school showed at least five ambulances and a large law enforcement presence at the campus, and at least one medical helicopter could be seen airlifting a patient from the scene. At the football field, where authorities had students gather, people lowered their heads and formed a prayer circle in the end zone, standing on the letters for “Apalachee” as their classmates milled around the field. All schools in the Barrow County School System, which includes the high school, were placed on lockdown and police were sent out of an abundance of caution to all district high schools, according to the sources, but there are no reports of secondary incidents or scenes. Some of the critically injured were removed by helicopter, and additional helicopters are on standby.

Atlanta Trauma Center and other hospitals take patients

Grady Health System – a Level 1 trauma center in Atlanta, about an hour's drive from Winder – received one gunshot wound victim from the incident who was transported by helicopter, a hospital spokesperson told CNN. Earlier, a source with knowledge of the situation who is not authorized to speak to the media, told CNN Piedmont Athens Regional Hospital in North Georgia received two victims from the shooting. The source said one victim was an adult with a gunshot wound to the stomach and was in surgery, and another was a minor with unspecified injuries. Three gunshot victims were taken to nearby hospitals following the shooting, according to a hospital official, and five other patients reported to the hospital with symptoms related to a panic attack. Two gunshot victims were taken to Northeast Georgia Medical Center Barrow with non-life-threatening injuries, Northeast Georgia Health System spokesperson Layne Saliba said. Four other patients came with symptoms related to panic attacks.

Another gunshot victim was taken to Northeast Georgia Medical Center Gainesville with non-life-threatening injuries, Saliba said, and an additional patient came to Northeast Georgia Medical Center Braselton with symptoms related to a panic attack.

Georgia governor sends prayers and says he can send resources

Georgia Gov. Brian Kemp has directed all available state resources to assist at the scene, he said in a statement on social media. The governor urged “all Georgians to join my family in praying for the safety of those in our classrooms, both in Barrow County and across the state.” President Joe Biden has been briefed on the incident, the White House said, offering federal support to state and local officials.

“His administration will continue coordinating with federal, state, and local officials as we receive more information,” the White House said in a statement. Attorney General Merrick Garland similarly said the US Department of Justice “stands ready” to support the community after the shooting. “We are still gathering information, but the FBI and ATF are on the scene, working with state, local, and federal partners,” Garland said at a meeting of the Justice Department’s Election Threats Task Force.

Winder had a population of about 18,338 as of the 2020 census, according to the US Census Bureau The Barrow County School System is the 24th largest school district in the state, per the district’s website. It serves about 15,340 students, 1,932 of whom are enrolled at Apalachee High School.

[superhaught]

Sweetest Girl

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warning(s): slight reference to bad home life for reader?

Word Count: 1700, Part 1/?

Anonymous Asked: hello! I was wondering if I could request a regina x fem!reader fic where the the reader is known as the sweetest girl in school that everyone loves and regina is like “what’s so great about her” and just ends up falling in love with her

Part Two

Regina knew that she wasn’t excelling in her chemistry course this year but she certainly didn’t think she was failing. But the teacher asked her to stay behind after class and gave her a solemn look as she explained that with Regina’s most recent test score (which was, admittedly, abysmal), her overall grade in the class would drop from barely passing to failing. 

“Well, what am I supposed to do? I’m a senior, it’s not like I can retake this class!” Regina griped, beginning to feel her stomach turn over in panic.

“Calm down, Miss George. You still have time to improve your grade. I’d recommend that you start working with a tutor. One of your classmates is available for such an arrangement as it turns out. She’s a very gifted student who is doing quite well in this class. She will likely tutor you not expecting anything at all in return. Are you willing to reach out to her?”

Regina crossed her arms in front of her chest, “I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”

Regina’s teacher formed a thin-lipped smile, “No, Miss George. You don’t.”

Regina took the slip of paper with the tutor’s contact info scribbled on it from the teacher and left the classroom for her locker in a huff. 

Gretchen and Karen were waiting for her and immediately, Gretchen was hounding the blonde in concern, “is everything okay, Regina? What did the teacher want?”

Regina sighed, “I’m failing. I need a tutor, I guess.”

“Oh no!!!” Gretchen exclaimed. 

Karen tapped into the conversation in a brief moment of focus and said, “don’t worry, Regina. I failed chemistry last year and had to be tutored, too.”

Regina rolled her eyes, “yes Karen, and you fucked your chemistry tutor instead of studying.”

Karen smiled, “oh yeah!”

Gretchen chimed in, “well, it’s going to be okay Regina. I bet you’ll do really well if someone can take their time to explain the concepts to you. Do you know who will tutor you?”

Regina nodded, “yeah, the teacher gave me this name. Someone in my class.” Regina passed the slip of paper to Gretchen. 

When the small brunette read the name she made an excited sound, “oh! I know her, she’s the sweetest ever! You’ll like her Regina. She’s like, the nicest girl in the school.”

Regina narrowed her eyes and snatched the paper back, “why would I like the nicest girl in school? She sounds like a try-hard… What makes her so great?”

-

You were enjoying your lunch outside in the courtyard because it was a sunny day out. You scrolled through your phone and an email notification caught your eye so you opened it right away. The email read: Hey, I need a chemistry tutor. Teacher gave me your name. Can you? -Regina George

Oh, wow. You thought. Regina George wants me to tutor her?

You typed your response back and sent it off with a whoosh: Hi Regina, I’m happy to help! Do you want to meet to go over logistics today after school? I’ll be in the library if you want to swing by :) you can also feel free to text me if that’s easier

You sent Regina your phone number at the end of the email and in a few minutes, you got a text from, presumably, Regina. She said, “okay whatever” then another few seconds passed and she sent another text, “this is Regina, obviously.”

You responded, “haha yes, I figured!”

The little bubble that indicated she was typing popped up for a long moment and then disappeared. Then it popped back up and turned into a simple text, “k.”

-

Later that same day, you were sitting in the library doing your homework in the welcome peace and quiet. As you were working, you saw the blonde out of the corner of your eye. 

Regina walked down the half staircase into the library and flipped her hair over her shoulder, her tote bag hung from the crook of her elbow, and her other hand held an iced latte notably not from the student-run cafe but instead from the Starbucks down the road from the school. 

Regina approached your table and plopped her bag down on the floor and pulled out the chair across from you, “went to get a coffee before meeting you, hope you don’t mind. You didn’t want anything did you?”

You smiled and shook your head, “I don’t mind, and no thank you, I’m okay. I don’t drink coffee.”

Regina raised an eyebrow as she sat down, “you don’t drink coffee? How do you survive?”

You laugh lightly, “I guess I’ve never really needed it, and I prefer tea anyway.”

“Huh…” Regina didn’t seem satisfied with your answer but she dropped it, “so, do you just stay here to do homework after school?”

“Usually, yeah! I like to get as much done as I can before the library closes.”

“Why would you want to spend more time in this godforsaken school?”

You swallowed hard, “Oh, um… just ‘cause.��

“Kay…”

“So, do you want to talk about tutoring for chemistry?”

“Sure.”

“Okay great, do you know how often you want to meet or how many hours you want to do per week?”

“Christ, I don’t know.”

“It’s okay!” You assured her, “let’s just start with two hours a week for now. We can meet twice a week for one hour each and see if that feels good or if we need to work more or drop down to just an hour.” 

“Alright.”

“Does this time work for you?”

“Yeah.”

“And what about another day in the week?” You asked.

Regina shrugged, “Thursdays?”

“Perfect!” You jotted down a note of the schedule in your planner.

“Do you tutor a lot?” Regina asked, then sipped her coffee.

“Not super often. When I do, it’s usually because a teacher recommended me.”

“Are you like a teachers pet or something?” 

“I don’t know, I just like helping.” 

Regina was silent for a moment. She was considering you. Examining you. 

“So for chemis-“ you began.

“You know, it’s like weird how nice you are. Like, it’s off putting.” 

“Oh… off putting?”

“Yeah, ya know. Like you don’t have to be nice all the time, or for free. Not everyone deserves kindness.” 

“I mean, I disagree, but-“ 

“I can pay you, you know. For tutoring me, I mean.” 

“You don’t have to, though. I don’t need you to.” 

Regina scoffed, “you’re just gonna give me your time and energy for nothing?” 

“Yes. I just want to help. It’s not transactional.” 

“Oh, you sweet thing. Everything is transactional. Maybe you don’t want my money but you expect to get something out of this, don’t you? Otherwise, you wouldn’t.” 

You were frustrated, “how do you know that? You don’t know me or what I’d do!” 

“No one does anything for free. No one performs a service for free. No one is that nice.” Regina took another drink of her coffee. 

“Are you trying to ruin this?” 

Regina raised an eyebrow again but was quick to respond, “am I making you mad?” 

“You’re frustrating me. I’m just trying to do a nice thing.” 

“So you don’t want me to question your motives?” 

“No! I mean…” you huffed angrily, you felt your cheeks grow increasingly red and hot, “there is no motive.” 

“I don’t believe that.” 

“Look, do you want my help or not?” 

“I want to be tutored. What I don’t want is to owe you anything.” 

“You don’t owe me anything!” 

Regina’s expression turned into the slightest smirk as she stood up from the table and grabbed her tote bag off the floor, “I’ll meet you again on Thursday to review this week’s course materials. When I see you again, I expect an answer about what exactly it is you hope to get out of doing this for me.” 

With that, Regina turned and left the library, her hair swishing behind her. 

You hadn’t noticed until then, but you had crumpled up a piece of paper in your hand during that conversation. 

-

Thursday came around too soon for your liking. You had no answer for Regina’s demand, other than the truth, which you didn’t want to tell her. 

At 4:05 pm sharp, Regina waltzed down the stairs into the library once again, tote bag in hand, removing her sunglasses in an elegant motion, a drink carrier from Starbucks with two drinks in her other hand. 

You watched as Regina gracefully spit her chewing gum into a trash can on her way while walking up to your table.

She took one of the cups out of the drink carrier and set it down in front of you, “chai latte. Is that okay?” 

Your jaw dropped open a bit as you stared stupidly at the drink and then back up at her, “y-yeah… that’s really nice, thank you.” 

Regina didn’t sit down, “do you have an answer for me?” 

You sighed, “you really won’t accept that I just want to help you out?” 

Regina wordlessly shook her head. 

You looked down at your hands and saw that they were shaking slightly, so you hid them under the table in your lap and kept your eyes averted from Regina as you whispered, “I do what I can to avoid spending time at home.” 

Regina remained silent. 

You looked back up at her. Her jaw was set and she had a severe expression. You watched her exhale a heavy breath through her nose, nostrils flaring, then she sat down across from you and dropped her bag onto the floor. 

“Okay,” she said simply. “Let’s get started then.” 

-

You spent the next hour reviewing that week's chemistry lessons with Regina. 

When you decided to stop for that evening, Regina reached across the table and wrote something into your notebook. 

“There, that’s my address. You don’t have to check in with me, or anything, you can just come over whenever you want to.”

“Regina, are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. My mom loves having company to entertain, and there’s plenty of space in my room for you to be comfortable and do work.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“How about, ‘thank you?’”

You laughed and nodded, “thank you, Regina. Really.”

The blonde stood up and returned her notes to her bag, “‘course. See ya tomorrow in class.”

“See you then…”

Next Chapter

[starkwlkr]

miss honey | sebastian vettel

dad!sebastian x female reader

no part 2

“Papa! I have a new teacher!”

The school had already sent out an email letting parents know that the students were being thought by a new teacher. Ever since his daughter knew of the teacher, she had been counting down the days until she could meet her and finally today was the day.

“Remember, we have to be kind to her and all the other kids, okay?” Sebastian reminded her as they walked hand in hand to her classroom. The little girl nodded with a smile on her face.

They finally made it to her classroom and saw several parents with their kids already inside. The Vettel girl let go of her father’s hand and excitedly ran to the table where her friends were. Sebastian wasn’t sure what the new teacher looked like so he just stood to the side admiring the artwork of the kids that was stapled to the cork boards.

“It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Cooper.” A sweet voice caught Sebastian’s attention. It was coming from outside of the classroom so he poked his head out to see what was going on. At the same time, you had entered the classroom causing you to bump into each other. “Oh! I’m so sorry!”

“No, it’s my fault. That’s what I get for being nosey. I’m sorry.” Sebastian apologized. “Do you know who the new teacher is? My daughter is excited to meet her.”

You smiled. “Well I’m more excited to meet her. Where is she?”

“You’re the new teacher?”

“Is that surprising?”

Sebastian nervously chuckled. “No, not at all. I was just . . . Schatz! Come meet your new teacher.” The little girl came running to her father.

“Hello, my father told me you’re excited to meet me.” You bent down to her height. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Emma.” The girl replied shyly.

“Emma, you have a very lovely name. I have a feeling we’re going to be great friends.”

Sebastian couldn’t help but smile at the interaction. He already took a liking to you. He stayed with Emma for a bit while you greeted other parents and their kids. While Emma colored in her journal, a dad of Emma’s friend had gotten Sebastian’s attention.

“New teacher is hot, right? I’ll have to drop off my kid more often now.” He said, keeping his eyes on your body. “God, she knows what she’s doing. Look at that ass—”

“We’re in a classroom, there’s kids around us. It’s inappropriate, especially when she’s the one teaching our kids.” Sebastian interrupted.

“What? You’re acting as if you wouldn’t sleep with her. Whatever, she’ll definitely put out for me.” He then walked towards you as you finished another conversation with a mom. Sebastian watched as he tried to talk his way into getting your number.

The German could see the discomfort in your face so he quickly made his way towards you. “It’s getting late, shouldn’t you be going to your office?” Sebastian told the rude man.

“I’m the boss, Vettel, I can go in whenever I want.” He replied.

“Last I heard, your boss was thinking of firing you because you got drunk and ran over a road sign and you called him in the middle of a meeting so he could bail you out.”

You could feel the tension between the men. All you wanted to do was start your first day.

“You’re really not that funny.” He said as he left the classroom.

“Wasn’t trying to be.” Sebastian mumbled. “Sorry about him, he’s an idiot.”

“I could tell. .” You gasped when you realized what you just said. “Oh god, please don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

Ever since your first interaction with Sebastian, you couldn’t help but think about him often. You knew it was wrong, but he was just so charming. It was one sided at all. Emma would sometimes bring you a little gift with a note attached in Sebastian’s handwriting. You didn’t know what exactly he did for work, you assumed it was a job that required him to travel a lot since Emma would bring different souvenirs from different countries. His notes were always short and sweet, it made you melt inside.

It was a chilly day and you were almost done with class. The kids were packing their backpacks and cleaning up their areas while you helped some students.

“Does anyone have questions about their homework?” You asked your class.

“No, miss l/n!” They replied.

“Miss l/n? I have a question, but it’s not about the homework . . .” Emma raised her hand from her seat.

You nodded and walked over to her table. “What’s your question, Emma?”

“Well . . My papa is retiring and i was wondering if you want to come with us to his last race?” Emma asked.

“Race? Your papa races?” You were confused, but then it all made sense. The gift from different countries, why Emma’s grandparents were the ones the drop her or pick her up off most of the time.

“Yeah, but he’s retiring. He has four world championships!” Emma put up four fingers. “Can you come with us? Please!”

“Emma, I’m not sure. What if your papa doesn’t want me there? We can talk about this another day.” You tried to dismiss the topic, but the little girl wasn’t giving up.

“That’s not true because my papa always talks about you to his teammate and his friends and everyone who works with him and I heard him say he wants to invite you to the race. One time he called you Miss Honey.” Emma said.

You were sure you were blushing at the thought of Sebastian calling you Miss Honey. It wasn’t the first time you were called that, but knowing Sebastian did made you smile.

“Well I’ll have to talk to your papa when he comes to pick you up.” You said. The Vettel girl nodded.

You took the kids to the entrance of the school where all the parents picked them up from and noticed Sebastian immediately. He waved at you instantly. You waved back, already feeling butterflies in your stomach from that tiny interaction. You then helped the kids find their parents and kept other kids company since they were waiting for their parents to show up.

“Miss l/n! My papa wants to ask you something!” Emma came up running to you, dragging Sebastian by his hand. “Ask her papa!”

The older man just laughed. “I will, just be patient. Um . . So I was wondering if you would like to attend my last race as a Formula 1 driver.”

“Emma did mention you raced.” You said. “She also mentioned you talk about me to your colleagues and call me Miss Honey.”

“Did she?” Sebastian looked down at his daughter, who innocently smiled. “I apologize if that made you uncomfortable—”

“It’s cute. Not the first time I’ve been called that actually.”

Emma couldn’t wait any longer for your answer. “So you’ll go see my papa race?!”

“Emma, be patient.” Sebastian told her.

You looked at her with a smile. “I think it would be lovely to see your papa race.”

Thank god for Emma Vettel and her impatience.

The last race of the Formula 1 season was here. It was a very emotional weekend for many since they would be saying goodbye to the great Sebastian Vettel. He had been receiving lots of kind messages and gifts from fans and supporters from all over the world.

It was the morning of Abu Dhabi Grand Prix and you were feeling a lot of emotions. On the way to the track, Emma had given you her version of how a race worked. You listened to her all the way to the track with Sebastian sometime reminding her of a few things she missed. Finally, you made it to the paddock entrance where photographers were waiting for the arrival of Sebastian.

“Papa, there’s a lot.” Emma said once she noticed the amount of photographers waiting.

“You’ll be okay, sweetheart. You can hold my hand until we get inside, okay?” You assured Emma. Sebastian saw how Emma felt safe with you. You truly were a real life Miss Honey.

Eventually, the three of you had to make your way to the entrance so you held onto Emma’s hand and stayed close to Sebastian. While Sebastian got caught up with taking photos and singing autographs for fans, Emma showed you around. She pointed at several buildings and told you that those were the team motorhomes.

“Sorry about that, come on let’s continue.” Sebastian caught up with you and Emma.

“It’s alright, Emma is a very good guide. She’s very smart.” You reply.

You all made your way to the Aston Martin garage where Sebastian insisted on showing you around. Even though Emma had already been to multiple races over the years, she always acted surprised when she saw her father’s car. You couldn’t help but take a photo of Emma being put inside Sebastian’s car for the final time.

“This is amazing. I can’t believe you never told me this was your job.” You said to Sebastian as you both watched Emma joke around with Sebastian’s race engineer.

“You never asked.” He joked. “It means a lot to Emma that you’re here . . and to me. Thank you.”

“I’m happy to be here.”

Soon came the race. You and Emma watched from the Aston Martin garage. You weren’t sure what was happening, but you were happy to be there to support Sebastian. When the checkered flag came out, Emma explained to you that her father had finished in the points. You, Emma and the Aston Martin team cheered.

It felt like forever trying to reunite with Sebastian, but you kept Emma entertained by playing I spy.

“I spy with my little eye something . . . Red!” You said.

Emma looked around then spotted Charles walking with Max. “It’s Charles!”

“You got it!”

Now it was Emma’s turn. “I spy with my little eye . . Papa!” She yelled, the game of i spy already forgotten since Sebastian was back in the garage. Emma ran to her father and gave him a big hug.

“Did you have fun?” Sebastian questioned.

“Yeah, miss l/n and I were playing I spy and I won.” Emma replied. “Can we go home?”

Sebastian looked at you. “Let’s go home.” He nodded, content with his new life.

After your return home, you saw Sebastian more often. He even volunteered for bake sales, school fundraisers and career day. The kids loved seeing his helmet and racing suit, you were pretty sure it made all the other parents jealous.

It was a nice sunny day when Sebastian had asked you to dinner. It took some convincing, but you accepted. He took you to a restaurant that had a beautiful view and a lot of pretty colorful flowers. As you were talking about a bookstore you wanted to visit, a bee that joined you. While most people were afraid of bees and tried to run away from them, you adored them.

“Five eyes, six legs.” You admired the insect.

“Emma thinks I’m crazy for talking to bees. I tell her that bees are important.” Sebastian said.

“Yeah, I do remember her telling me that you talk to the bees. I thought she was joking.” You chuckled. “I had the kids to a project about bees and Emma said you were planning to make insect hotels?” Soon all you and Sebastian could talk about what his upcoming new project.

After your date, Sebastian drove you home. You honestly didn’t want the date to end, but you had homework that needed grading. What a way to spend a Friday night, but you enjoyed it. You found grading papers very therapeutic.

“I’ll see you at school?” Sebastian wondered.

“Sure.” You laughed. “Before I forget.” You leaned forward and pressed your lip’s against his. It was sweet like honey. After you pulled away, Sebastian couldn’t wipe off the smile from his face.

“Goodnight, miss honey.”

“Goodnight, bee man.”

—

2023

Time skip brought to you by all my seb pictures from pinterest

PRIVATE ACCOUNT

liked by sebastianvettel, mickschumacher and 276 others

missl/n_ bee man in his natural habitat 🐝 thanks for bringing me along 🖤

mickschumacher come back soon!!

missl/n_ i’ll try! my kids need their teacher 😉

sebastianvettel the bees thank you, miss honey 🍯

missl/n_ i love you, bee man 🐝

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || a/b/o

hi so today is @lexirosewrites’s birthday today and like,, idk three or so weeks ago she followed me (hi lexi <3 happy birthday <3 hope today has been fun <3) and to celebrate both of those things i started writing an omegaverse fic, and i wanted it done by today but it is grew a mind of its’ own and now it’s much bigger than i thought it’d be so instead of the full fic, have a snippet <3

again, happy birthday lexi <3

“Hello?” Steve answered, having learned to not open the call with who was answering without knowing who was calling from one too many scam calls

“Is this Steve Harrington?” A soft feminine voice asked, taking Steve by surprise.

“May I ask who’s calling?” Steve asked, not willing to concede his identity until he knew it wasn’t someone looking to sell him ‘Alpha Pills’ or something just as ridiculous.

“Of course! My name is Chrissy Cunningham, you sent in an application for being a full time nanny and tutor?” She responded with a cheerful voice. “I can’t <i>really</i> go much more in depth without an NDA being signed.”

Recognition zapped through Steve’s body and he sat up in his seat. “Oh! Yes, I’m Steve. Um. I’d be happy to sign an NDA, just may I ask why?”

“Yes, you may! My client is a big fan of privacy and only agreed to hire someone if they were under an NDA for the protection of their pup.” aaand all of Steve’s anxiety surrounding the NDA pretty much melted away. Sure, maybe it was a bit much to do, and sure, now he was dying with curiosity to know just <i>who</i> he had ended up applying to, but the knowledge that the NDA was for the protection of the pup soothed any anxiety Steve had originally felt about signing an NDA. In fact, it kind of made his omega perk up. He shook off the feeling, focusing on Chrissy.

“That’s actually really relieving to hear,” Steve said with a laugh. “When or where can I sign the NDA?” he questioned, wondering when Robin would be home so he could tell her.

“Well, first, you and I will do a preliminary interview, just like any other job interview. Then, if all goes well, I’ll send you an email containing the NDA for you to review and sign,” Chrissy explained clearly and cheerfully. “After you sign the NDA, my client will perform an in-person interview and then we’ll go from there.”

“That all seems pretty straight forward so far,” Steve replied, standing from where he had been lounging on the couch. He walked to the kitchen, where he and Robin had put up a magnetic whiteboard calendar to fill with each of their schedules and plans. He grabbed the blue marker, his color, and prepared to jot down when they’d have the interview.

“Perfect! Happy to hear it,” Chrissy said with an audible smile.

“When will the interview with you be?” Steve asked, biting his lip as he stared at the calendar, which had sparsely been marked with his blue marker, even since starting this job hunt. Robin’s plans were in red, and was much more abundant due to having three part time jobs.

“Well, as soon as possible, really. If you’re available now, we could take care of it right away.” the woman responded, sounding like she was walking into another room.

“Oh!” Steve exclaimed, recapping the marker and returning it to the pen holder. “Yes, of course. I’m available now.”

“Perfect!” Chrissy’s voice sounded from Steve’s phone as the omega walked back to the living room and sat on the couch. “So, starting off pretty easy here, what made you apply for this position?”

Steve thought back and grimaced at the reminder that it was Robin who had submitted his application to this particular job. He wasn’t about to admit that, though, and quickly found a more appropriate response.

“Well, I love taking care of pups, and I just got my teacher’s license a month ago,” Steve explained, which wasn’t a lie, so he figured it was probably as good of an answer as any. “I also saw that this job traveled, and my best friend thought that it’d be good for me.”

“Yes, that was going to be part of this conversation, too. So, you’re obviously alright with the traveling, then?” Chrissy asked and Steve heard what he thought could be pen scratching as she wrote notes. He swallowed thickly, suddenly anxious about what she was writing. He decided to ignore his anxiety, even as his scent soured around him with it.

“Oh, yes, traveling is more than okay,” Steve agreed immediately, “but it’s more important to me that I’ll be taking care of a pup, if I’m honest.”

This statement seemed to pique Chrissy’s attention, as the writing stopped for a moment. “Why is that?” she eventually asked.

Steve winced, wondering if he should be up front about it or not. If Robin were here, she would insist that he was honest. He decided on a half-truth.

“I’ve always wanted pups, and a lot of them,” Steve admitted, fidgeting with a loose piece of thread on the couch. He switched which arm was holding the phone, as he had started to get a little sore from holding it up for so long. “But I don’t have a partner, so I can’t really have my own right now. I discovered through babysitting for one of my neighbors that I have a knack for taking care of pups.”

The scratching noise was back as Chrissy listened to his responses. Steve was nervous he wasn’t doing well, but figured that it wasn’t going bad if she wasn’t suddenly calling the interview short.

“Your resume says that you’re good in high stress situations,” Chrissy said after a couple seconds of silence as she wrote down whatever notes she was taking. Steve briefly wondered if he should be doing the same thing. “I’m going to give you an example scenario, and you’re going to tell me how you’d respond.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Steve agreed, trying not to let his voice betray how anxious he was.

“For the sake of simplicity, we’ll say the pup’s name is Rosie,” she informed him before she continued to describe the scenario. “You’re taking Rosie to the park, when suddenly there is a crowd of people surrounding you and you lose sight of her. What do you do?”

Steve thought the scenario was odd, but not ‘out there’ enough to alarm him. He thought about his answer for a moment before replying.

“I would try to follow her scent, first, because that will usually lead me to any pup I’ve babysat. If that doesn’t work, I will call out for her. If the situation is bad enough, I would contact the authorities, and either you or Rosie’s father.” he paused for a second before continuing, trying to make sure he covered all of his bases. “But honestly? If Rosie is small enough, I would have rather carried her once I saw the crowd, or hold her hand, for the reason of lowering my chances of separation.”

Silence that’s only broken up by the scratching of pen against paper followed, and Steve was suddenly anxious that he answered incorrectly. He answered what he would do if it were his own pup, but what if that wasn’t right? What if he wasn’t cut out for this job?

“Alright, next scenario,” Chrissy said, moving swiftly onto the next one without commenting on his answer; Steve didn’t know if he preferred her not acknowledging it or if he would prefer to be told his answer was shitty up front. The next few scenarios were just as oddly specific, but Steve answered them exactly as he did the first one. He tried to not overthink his answers too much because between each one there would be a stretch of time that Chrissy used to presumably write his answers down.

“One last question and then we should be good to move forward.” Chrissy said a good twenty minutes of questions later. “When would you be available to start working?”

Steve’s eyebrows raised, surprised that he was seemingly, maybe being offered the job. “Um—immediately. I would need time to pack, but other than that, I’m free.”

“Wonderful,” Chrissy said cheerfully. “Alright, now it’s your turn. Do you have any questions for me?”

Steve hummed, trying to go through his usual list of questions he asked during interviews that hadn't already been answered and came up empty. “Not at the moment, but I’ll make sure to write any I think of down, if I do.”

“Perfect! So, I will consult with my client, and I have a few other applicants that are interested, but so far, you are my top pick, but I don’t make the decisions,” Chrissy laughed, as if Steve was in on the joke. He laughed with her, not knowing what else he should have done. So, maybe not a job offer, but it sounded promising anyway. “I will be in contact in a few days, three at most.”

“Sounds good, thank you so much for considering me, Chrissy,” he responded with a smile, hoping to leave one last good impression.

[miss-bushido]

make the world safe and sound for you

written for @softsteddieseptember week 3, prompt ‘anniversary’

Rating: G

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

Steve pressed his face to the pillow and groaned. “No, my head hurts. Come back later.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Eddie murmured, pressing a light kiss to Steve’s temple, smoothing back some flyaway strands. “How late were you up?”

Steve groaned, tapping his fingers on the bed as he counted in his head. “Last time I saw the clock it said 4:30 AM.” He had been pulling all-nighters while working to get his Master’s degree. He was only a few months away from being finished with the program, and he just wanted to see the back of it.

Eddie winced. It was 7:30 AM. Normally, Steve would be up by 6 AM, ensuring he would see first thing the text messages or emails from his boss asking him to sub for one of the teachers at a local school. Eddie grabbed Steve’s phone and winced again. There were three missed calls from his boss, and a flurry of text messages.

“I’m making an executive decision,” Eddie announced, sitting on the bed behind Steve. “I’m telling your boss that you’re sick and that you won’t be able to sub anywhere today.”

Steve scrubbed his face with his hands. “No, I can-”

“Honey, I love you, but you’re talking out of your ass. You need to rest. You can’t expect to be effective with less than 3 hours of sleep.” Eddie put his fingertip to Steve’s plush lips to silence any further protests. “I’ll call her and let her know you’re sick, and that you should be more than fine come Monday morning. When was the last time you took a Friday off?”

Steve blinked, his eyes heavy and scratchy from lack of sleep. “Almost two years ago.”

“Exactly. So. Since you’re not going to work today, go back to sleep. I don’t want to see you downstairs before 9:30 AM, clear?”

In spite of how exhausted he was, Steve felt his stomach flutter at the tone Eddie used. “Yes, sir.”

Eddie smirked, unable to resist giving him a kiss. “Let’s save that for tonight, okay?”

“Daddy?” came a small, sleepy voice from the hallway. The bedroom door was pushed open to reveal their toddler daughter Rosie standing there, clutching her stuffed duck. “We’re thirsty,” she said, her voice low and rough in her throat. Her twin brother, Theo, was with her as he always was, clutching her purple sleep shirt with his left hand, his right thumb in his mouth.

Eddie’s heart swelled to look at them. He and Steve had thought long and hard about children after their marriage, and though they were fine with adoption, they wanted to try and have biological children of their own. Obviously, neither of them could get pregnant (not for lack of trying), so they spoke to the women in their lives; Nancy, Robin, Chrissy, Vickie, to see if any of them would be willing to either donate one of their eggs or become a surrogate, or both.

In the end, Chrissy said she would do both for them: donate her eggs, and be a surrogate. It was almost immediate that she became pregnant with the twins. When they were born, Eddie cried harder than he ever had in his life at seeing their chubby cheeks and bright eyes. He couldn’t believe it was three years ago that their little family was completed.

“You’re thirsty?” Eddie asked, holding his arms out for both of them to come in. Theo broke into a big toothy grin and ran over to jump on Eddie, his light brown hair bouncing . Both Steve and Eddie loved their children equally, and they knew the twins loved them the same as well. But Theo seemed to have an affinity for Eddie: following him around and looking very interested when he practiced his guitar. He even accompanied Eddie to some band rehearsals, but never to one of their shows. Maybe when he was older. He listened with rapt attention as Eddie read to them: The Hobbit, the Redwall books, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, and the paintings he did, while rudimentary, were clearly influenced by the stories.

Rosie could frequently be found snuggling with Steve: she liked putting barrettes in his hair, painting his nails and putting lipstick on him. Whenever they had a tea party, she put a silver tiara on him and a pair of ruby clip on earrings, telling him, "Papa looks so pretty."

How could Steve resist? How could either of them resist?

While her brother went to Eddie, she toddled over to the other side of the bed. She tossed her stuffed duck up and clambered up, crawling over to Steve. She looked the most like Eddie: she had his brown doe eyes and the waves of her hair were like his, though she took after Chrissy in terms of her strawberry blonde hair color, and the way she smiled. “Papa?” she asked, looking down at Steve. “No work today?”

Steve looked up sleepily at his daughter, unable to stop the big smile spreading across his face. “Not today, baby. Papa stayed up too late doing school work.”

“That’s silly,” she said, collapsing dramatically against the pillows. Steve had seen Eddie do that exact same thing more than a few times, and it always made him laugh.

“Papa is silly, Duck,” he admitted, quickly reaching forward and pulling her close, blowing raspberries on her neck, her shrieking giggles filling the air. He still had a headache, and her shrieks of glee were not helping, but he could bear it.

“I keep telling him that,” Eddie said as he sat back down, Theo leaning against him. Theo had Steve’s beautiful hazel eyes, but they were turning more towards green the older he got. His hair was dark brown and straight, and though he was quieter than his sister, the smile he had was pure Eddie. Both of them worried they would have a little hell-raiser on their hands as he got older and got more confidence.

“‘M still thirsty, Daddy,” Theo murmured against Eddie’s chest. He looked up at Eddie with his big eyes. “Choccy milk?”

“For breakfast?” Eddie replied in mock shock and awe. Theo immediately started giggling, tilting his head back as he watched Eddie perform. “There will be chaos if we move choccy milk time to morning instead of dinner.”

“Pleeeeease?” Theo pleaded. “Please Daddy?”

“Yeah! Pleeeeease?” Rosie shouted, jumping up from laying next to Steve, all but throwing herself on Eddie’s back.

“Oh! Attacked on both sides! The treachery! The betrayaaaal!” Eddie kept his left arm firmly wrapped around Theo before he hooked his right arm back to wrap around Rosie. He stood up, both of them in his arms. “Steve! Don’t just lay in bed! Save meeeee!” He yelled this while moving quickly out of the bedroom, giving Steve a knowing glance as he shut the door behind him with his foot.

Steve laughed at the display of his little family, though he was grateful that Eddie managed to get them out of the room and leave him in peace. He didn’t see his phone on the bed, so Eddie must have taken it with him. Which was good, as it meant he could fall back to sleep like Eddie wanted him to.

A few hours later, Steve woke up, feeling the warmth of a small body against his chest. He opened his eyes to see Theo snuggled up against him, snoring lightly. Behind him, Rosie and Eddie were also asleep. Both had their mouths open slightly, right arms above their heads as they slept.

“Happy anniversary,” he whispered, feeling happy tears well in his eyes.

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Wasteland, Baby

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 3.4k

TW: Mentions of Murders, mentions of suicide, discussion of suicide, trauma, emotional turmoil, death, arguing, abandonment issues, commitment issues, Angst, some fluff

A/N: Thanks for bearing with me as I try to get off the struggle bus y'all. here is the highly anticipated part 2 of Stick Season !

All the fear and the fire of the end of the world Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl Happens great, happens sweet Happily, I'm unfazed here, too

It had been three years since you left the BAU and you had just turned down a job at the FBI from Erin Strauss. You never heard from her again. 

But you did attend her funeral in D.C a week later.

You didn’t alert any of the BAU that you were returning for her funeral, since you could only imagine the pain they were feeling. 

The plane ride was filled with thoughts of what life would have been like if you had rejoined the FBI. Maybe she wouldn't have died. Maybe she’d still be calling you and sending you email after email with job offers. 

You had quickly stopped by the wake, the day before, to pay your respects, and give Strauss’ family your deepest condolences. It was painful, seeing someone you spoke to last week, stiff, lifeless, in a coffin where they will be for the rest of time. 

But the worst part was the burial. 

Blending in at a funeral has never been a strong suit of the BAU’s, except for you. You were calm, respectful, and blended in with the rest of the spectators. 

Until you looked across the circle and saw Aaron Hotchner looking directly at you. Whatever he had been feeling before, was quickly wiped away when you looked back at him, confirming his suspicions that you were here, in the graveyard. The look on his face was replaced with a more somber one as he redirected his attention back to the priest, but you knew you would be unable to just leave now that you had been spotted. 

Once she had been lowered into the ground, Hotch made his way towards you, catching his colleges interested. Where was he going? Who was he looking for?

“Y/n.” 

You smiled at him. It didn’t reach your eyes, but it wasn;t fake either. 

“It’s good to see you Hotch.” 

“I didn’t know you were going to be here today.” 

You nodded and looked over as the rest of the people migrated towards their cars to go to the reception afterwards. “I didn’t make it public information, considering I was planning on leaving after the ceremony. I’m just here to pay my respects Hotch.” 

“She called you.” 

“Yes she did.” 

“And she said you turned it down.” 

“I did.”

“Why.” 

“Hotch, please.” 

He took your elbow and pulled you away from the people, giving the two of you some semblance of privacy. 

“Will you at least think about it?” 

“What is there to think about Hotch? I don’t want to—” 

“I wish you wouldn’t lie to me. I know you miss it Y/n. I’m not just some colleague, and you know that.” 

You closed your eyes and pinched your brow. You knew coming to this funeral was a mistake. But some part of you, one that you had silenced for a very long time, was starting to break through. 

“We can talk later.” 

Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you

“I cannot believe you’re going back.” 

You sighed and continued to pack up everything you owned into boxes. You had only broken down the ones from a few years ago–that same part of you had saved them for whenever you had recognized you were ready to be back in Washington D.C. 

“Don’t ignore me. I thought you were done with hunting bad guys and certain doctors with glasses.” 

You slammed your hands on the table, causing Lucille to jump. 

“Sorry.” You muttered and slowly sunk to the ground, deciding it was just easier to sit on the ground and have a breakdown rather than talk it out. 

“I’m not going back for him…I’m going back for me. This…” You ran a hand through your hair. “This is n’t what I was meant to do, Luce. I’m not a teacher. I’m okay at it, but…I was meant to be in the field. Teaching is challenging, but not in the way I need. And fuck, I love my kids, you know that I do, but it’s just…”

“It’s not who you are.” She came and sat down next to you, taking your hand in hers. “I’m gonna miss you asshole.” 

You rested your head on her shoulder and squeezed her hand. “I’m going to miss you so much.” You whispered back to her. 

“You have to visit me. I’ll get lonely up here.” 

A smile spread across your face as a tear slowly tracked down your cheek. “ You have my permission to hunt me down and beat the shit out of me if I don’t.” 

“Oh don’t worry, I will.” 

All the things yet to come are the things that have passed Like the holding of hands, like the breaking of glass Like the bonfire that burns That all words in the fight fell to

Your desk stayed pretty empty for the first two weeks you were back—like you were terrified that if you got too comfortable, life would pull the rug right out from under you again and you’d have to leave. 

It was Garcia who first noticed this, watching as you’d pack everything up into your tote bag each night before you would go home. She didn’t say anything about it though, since you were not the same girl the BAU had grown to know. 

You were different, quieter. You spoke when you had something to add, or to correct somebody, but you never participated in the banter; you never stayed longer than absolutely necessary. If the group had decided to surprise you at your new apartment, they would find it covered in boxes—walls bare, fridge almost empty, only essentials like clothes and toothbrush unpacked. 

But you had never been better. Hotch had you start consulting side cases when you came back, a way to get you used to the routine of being back in the office, back in the FBI. You would consult up to three new cases a day, still helping with those that would call back a day or week later for updates or more help. They watched as you easily solved things in minutes, that might have taken the team hours. 

The first time Morgan called you ‘Girl Genius’ to your face, you punched him in the arm (admittedly a bit harshly). But he wasn’t wrong. You could feel the continuous excitement flowing through your veins; your muscles flexing as you settled back into the thing you were the best at. 

You were different, but better. 

Spencer noticed this too. He watched as you confidently answered every question thrown at you. He watched as you consulted on cases and noticed patterns he had missed. 

Spencer had missed you, badly. He knew he fucked up when he had left that night, needed to go and he spend the night away, thinking about his life; his future. Panic had flooded his body at the thought of you being the one forced to take care of him, forced to deal with his shit history and addictive personality and his annoying ass rambles. He didn’t want to subject you to that. 

But then he remembered the look on your face—the pure excitement and adoration at the thought of being able to spend every single minute of your life calling him yours. And once the panic had subsided, he felt that same joy. 

When he got back to the house, you weren’t there. 

You weren’t at work either. 

You had just vanished, and about a day later, all of your things had disappeared too. 

And Spencer was a fucking wreck. He was useless at work, and he spent so much time trying to find you, but Penelope wasn’t able to find a thing, and by the time she did, it had been months later, and you clearly didn’t want to be found. 

Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you

It didn’t help that seeing you again in Vermont made him want to melt on the spot. A great deal of relief washed over him, seeing you were alive and in front of him. But then he felt the anger rise in him. You had abandoned him, you had just disappeared without a second thought. 

Then he remembered the look on your face when he panicked about marrying you.

You had thought he didn’t want to marry you. 

You had no idea that he felt like he was the the problem, and if he told you know, it would just sound like a fucking excuse. 

Watching you walk back into the bullpen and set up at your desk was another slap in the face. It feels like nobody tells him anything, because they don’t. But then he realized that only Hotch knew about it because everyone froze on the spot seeing you sitting at your desk, working. 

At his desk, he would just watch you. On the plane, he would watch you. And he tried so hard to be nonchalant about it, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Your hair, your legs, your arms, your lips—he wanted to take your hand and never let you go, fusing your skin together so he could be with you always. 

He was in love with you. And he thought you would rather die than be seen with him again. 

If only he knew that you felt the same way—you loved him right back. 

And that day that we'll watch the death of the sun To the cloud and the cold and those jeans you have on And you'll gaze unafraid as they sob from the city roofs

After about three months, infinite pining, a few longing glances passed to one another, and incessant whining from Derek Morgan, you and Spencer Reid found yourselves together at coffee one morning. 

After about a month later, you found yourself back in his apartment, lips grazing his, not being able to tell where his body ended and yours started. 

Then, the next day, he told you he loved you. 

He didn’t see you for a whole week afterwards. 

But when he walked into work that monday, and you were sitting at your desk, completely unbothered, he took it upon himself to make you talk to him. 

No one else was around, except for Hotch. But his office door was closed, and Morgan wouldn’t be around for another ten minutes anyways. 

“Where the fuck have you been?” 

You turned around in your chair and glared at him. “Excuse me?” 

“You disappeared for a week, no word about where you were going, not even telling me you were leaving.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Not now Spence.” 

“I love you.” 

“What?” 

“I still love you.” 

Your jaw dropped. “Spencer…” 

“I’m dead serious Y/n. When you weren’t here after you spent the night, I lost my fucking mind. I thought I had lost you—again. And I wasn’t about to go through that again. I had fucked up once before and I—I thought you had realized you didn’t want to be with me anymore and you had left again.” 

You were silent as he rambled on. 

“When you left three years ago, I lost my fucking mind. I sat here, staring at your desk hoping you would materialize out of thin air just so that I could apologize to you. And then when you didn’t show up, I begged Penelope to tell me where you had run off to, so I could go and find you and beg for you to listen to me while I got on my hands and knees to beg for your forgiveness. You thought I didn’t want to marry you, but I was terrified because I thought you wouldn’t want to marry me. I mean I had just gotten sober, and I thought we were doing so well and then you brought up marriage and all I could think about was how it was another way for you to find out how much you could hate me and get sick of me since—” 

You had finally snapped out the shock you were feeling and placed your hand over his mouth. “Breathe.” 

Spencer shoved your hand off his mouth, but stayed silent, taking an over exaggerated breath to prove to you he did. 

“We can talk about this later.” 

“No.” Spencer shook his head. “We’re going to talk about this now. I want to talk about this now.” 

“Spencer…” 

“How do I know that you’re not going to just pack up and disappear again.” 

“Spencer seriously? I don’t—-”

“You don’t do that? Because we both know you do. You’ve done it twice now.”

“What do you want me to say Spence?” 

“That you still love me.” His voice was low, but his eyes were locked in on yours. “I need to know if you still love me.” 

Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you

The Next Week

Another Day, Another Psychopath Killer. 

Another way for you to throw yourself into the line of fire because you have always had a soft spot for teenagers. 

Someone was targeting suicidal teens, convincing them to end their own lives, merely making him complicit in their deaths. It had sent you (and JJ) reeling. Both of you had lost someone to suicide, and watching as this person preyed on vulnerable kids who deserved to live and be loved took a lot out of the both of you. 

You had a bad feeling about this case when it was first passed onto your desk, but it just got worse and worse as the week went on. If only you had figured out who it was sooner, you might have been able to save this one girl’s life. But sometimes life refuses to relent. 

The jet was silent on the way back, none of you wanting to speak and break the silence. 

Spencer sat next to you on the couch, offering a comforting presence, and nothing else. He knew you (and it bugged the shit out of you). Years of being with one another meant that he knew when you were upset, and he knew that you despised being touched while you were like this, but you hated being alone. 

It bugged you so much, but you weren’t going to say a damn thing because having him next to you while you sat and listened to your music and spiraled was exactly what you needed. 

He only offered his hand when the plane hit some turbulence, and your entire body began to shake unconsciously. It was between the two of you, and all he did was flip it, so the palm was upwards. It was an invitation that you could immediately ignore and refuse if you wanted to. 

But something in you caused your hand to drop next to his and lace your fingers through his. 

God was it so fucking warm, and soft. You wondered if he still used the lotion you had recommended to him all those years ago when he would complain to you about his hands being “gross” and “too dry”. He absolutely did. 

He managed to hide his smile when you took his hand, but he did give yours a soft squeeze, and continued to read his book, pretending that his insides weren’t aflame and his mind was anywhere but on the words in front of him. 

He didn’t turn a page for over four minutes once your hand was in his. 

And I love too that love soon might end Be known in its aching Shown in the shaking Lately of my wasteland, baby Be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking Though quaking, though crazy That's wasteland, baby

That Night

“Thank you.” 

It was the first thing you had said in over five hours, including the plane ride. Once the plane had landed, you and Spencer went back to his apartment, and the two of you had sat in his living room, in silence. He didn’t mind, as long as he could keep an eye on you. 

Your mind was far far away. It was back in college. Thinking about your friend and about the life you could have lived if she was still with you. 

Spencer had left a cup of tea next to you, your favorite, and sat on the couch. You were situated in the chair by the window, staring out into the night, watching as the rain drops raced down the window and as the lights blurred together. 

He was close enough to provide you with some comfort, but far enough away to let you have whatever space you needed.

“Spence?” 

He snapped out of his head, looking towards you. Your eyes were tired, and your body reflected the same type of exhaustion. 

“Sorry. What do you need?” 

“I—.” You interrupted yourself with a yawn, cursing under your breath. “Shit sorry. I should probably go..” 

“It’s okay if you stay.” 

You looked out the window then back at him. 

“I’m not just saying that to get you into my bed—oh my god that came out wrong, I just mean I don’t want you out in that weather and I don’t really like the idea of you being alone tonight, especially after this case because—” 

“Spencer.” 

“---yeah?” 

“I’ll stay.” 

“O-oh. Good. good…” He nodded. “I can uh, take the couch and you can have the bed.” 

You rolled your eyes and smiled slightl;y. “You’re a gentleman, Doctor Reid, but I’m not kicking you out of your bed.” 

“But I—”

“Spence.” 

He huffed, crossing his arms as you just laughed softly to yourself, amused. 

“Why don’t we both go get ready. Together.” 

“Together?” 

You nodded. “Yeah Spence.” 

“Okay.” 

Spencer stood up, and offered his hand to you. 

And for the second time today, you took it. 

When the stench of the sea and the absence of green Are the death of all things that are seen and unseen Are an end but the start of all things that are left to do

And maybe the two of you would never be together ever again. Maybe you would. 

But something about the way Spencer would make your favorite tea, 

or the way he would save you the crossword puzzle on his morning newspaper since he knew how much you loved to solve as much as you could without his help, 

or when he would leave you notes on your desk, making you feel like a giddy high schooler all over again, or when he felt like a good start to something new

or when he would kiss you good morning and good night, promising you he’d be there whenever you woke up

or when he slowly got rid of things in his apartment to create space for your things as you moved in slowly 

or whenever a case was particularly rough for the both of you and he wouldn’t pester you to talk to him about it, instead offering his hand for you to take, and squeezing it, letting you know he was there for you

or the way he would take you on small vacations up to Vermont so you could go see all of your friends and escape from the world of the FBI

or the way he would never storm out of the apartment after an argument, but still give you the space you needed so you could both decompress without getting at each other's throats

or when he whispered every thing he would do for you for the rest of your lives so help him god when he thought you were asleep in his arms

or how he would whispered ‘I love you’ to you as you passed by while you both were working

or when he would never let you run off in the middle of the night because you would panic about whether or not this was all a dream, and one day he would wake up and not love you anymore

or when he got down on one knee and proclaimed his undying love for you, hoping you’d promised to love him forever in the same way he loved you, wanting to be with you, wanting to be near you always

made you feel like everything might be okay after all. 

Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you

[georgiapeach30513]

See Through My Eyes, Part 2

Summary: you and Bucky have to talk

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings:  language, sexual imagery, mentions of genital worship, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Steve watches his friend intensely. Staring as he walks from one side of the living room to the next. Hearing his goddaughter in the next room, screaming so loudly he wants to grab Bucky and make him talk to him. He’s never seen Bucky like this except once.

“Who the fuck did you knock up?”

“I heard that, Steve! I’m telling Miss Fawn!”

Steve’s mouth flies open, staring down the hallway, and he wonders if Izzy just has an alarm for bad words. “Buddy, I won’t say another bad word if you just tell me what is going on? You have only been like this when you found out Kenton was pregnant.”

Bucky just nods his head, stopping abruptly as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He used damn condoms. He pulled them off, and tied them up, and he spent the night with you. It wasn’t like you shoved anything back up inside of you. And you didn’t even seem to want or need him in your life or the baby’s. You were perfectly content.

”Buck?”

“Remember the Tinder date?”

“Mother…”

“Uncle Steve!” Izzy growls before she peeks her head out of her bedroom, “Miss Fawn will hear about this. She says profanity is not nice, and she’s growing a baby!” She stomps her foot one time to emphasize her words, and Bucky turns to look at his independent daughter before pointing to her bedroom.

“This is a grownup talk thing, huh?” He nods his head, and she sighs before closing her door and turning on Taylor Swift louder than Bucky normally allows. Grabbing her microphone before singing along with the obnoxious tune.

“James Buchanan Barnes, you knocked up her teacher!”

“I did not know that doeeyez1917 was Miss Fawn!”

“You are having a baby with Miss Fawn! Oh my god! Oh my god! Well, was she good? Like was the sex at least good? You got another person pregnant, do you not use protection? Is she a screamer? Wait, what kinks do you have? How far along is she? Have you seen her since the first night? Why are you just now telling me about this? What is…?”

“Steven!” Bucky’s hands grab onto his head because Steve is saying every question, and then some out loud, and Bucky’s head is swimming. Today was a stupid long day at work. It was too hot, the men on his crew wanted to be lazy and he pulled more weight on the team, and he was exhausted. He was late picking up his daughter, and then he finds out you were pregnant.

“Was the sex good?”

“The best I’d ever had,” Steve’s eyes go as large as saucers, and his hand shoves into his mouth. “Stop, don’t do that.”

“So why are you just now finding out she’s pregnant? And are you sure it’s yours? What is it? Oh my god, you’re going to have another spawn!” Bucky sighs, and collapses on the couch, “Buddy, what’s going on in your pretty little head?”

“I fucked up,” Steve cringes as he stares down the hall to Izzy’s door, but the music is either too loud or she knew that grownup talk was something she didn’t need to interrupt.

“Today was the first day you saw her, huh?” Bucky nods his head, his eyes blank as he stares out at nothing. He knew very little about you, but he did know more about Miss Fawn. And he knew about Miss Fawn through his daughter. His daughter that adored her teacher, and always managed to bring her up in everyday talk.

“If the sex was that good, why didn’t you see her again?”

“I deleted the app because I didn’t think I needed it, but then couldn’t remember how to get back in, and my email was no help,” Steve purses his lips as he stares at Bucky curiously. “And you said Tinder was about hooking up. So I just figured she wasn’t interested.”

“Why would you listen to me? You knew where she lived, you said you went to her house, so why didn’t you…”

”Because I’m stupid. I should have,” his voice falls into a whisper. How could he be so stupid? He knew exactly where you were and he wonders if you’ve been scared. If you tried to get in contact with him or if you just figured you’d deal with the consequences. But it was both of your consequences.

“So…Miss Fawn and doeeyes1917 are the same person. Your daughter’s teacher has Bucky growing inside of her,” Bucky fake retches, and starts laughing. “Do you know what a condom is?”

“We used them. I took it off, and she asked me if I would fuck her again just so she could watch me do that one more time,” Bucky’s chuckle turns dark at the times that he encouraged you one more time. Every time you gave so freely to him, and you looked so pretty, and felt so good coming over his fat cock. After two orgasms you were completely compliant to whatever he wanted, and he kept taking.

Over and over again until tears were leaking from your eyes, and you begged for him to come so you could sleep. He assured you that he would keep fucking you even if you were asleep, and he kissed away your stray tears as pleasure erupted in your body again.

“Ew, dad sex is gross.”

“I don’t think Miss Fawn minded my dad sex,” you definitely didn’t mind. You didn’t mind at all.

“Clearly not now that she made you a daddy again. Is she…like showing? What is your mother going to say?”

“Fuck me,” he growls. His mom. She hated Kenton, and told her son not to be knocking some bitch up again. “And yeah, she’s,” he stops, wishing the shock wouldn’t have gotten to him and he could have appreciated the way your dress hugged the little bump of his child. “Steve, she was gorgeous. All cute, and swollen, and she’s full of me, and…”

“You have the weirdest breeding kink.”

“She likes kids.”

“Other people’s kids,” that much is obvious. You are a teacher, and Izzy loved you so much she never quit talking about you.

“She wanted this child and didn’t need me. Izzy loves her, and she could be her step mom,” Bucky’s thoughts are spiraling and he’s very much aware of how they’re spiraling, but the thought of Izzy not having to give up her chameleon nickname makes him beam.

“Easy, killer. That’s if she wants to be with your flaky ass. She could just be your second baby mama that doesn’t want to be a stepmom, and she doesn’t want things to change. So calm your tits, and think about this. Are you going to have a conversation with her?” Bucky can only nod his head as he stares out in the distance.

He didn’t want that to be an option. He didn’t want to think about you and his child living in a two bedroom apartment all alone, and it isn’t even in the nicest part of town. He could help provide you with a good life. You and his children. And Izzy already adored you, and he wasn't sure how he was going to introduce you as the woman carrying her sibling, but it had to happen. He wants to be in the baby’s life, and yours.

“I’ve got more rooms in this house.”

“Stop it. Stop that.”

“She can be on a different floor.”

“Bucky!” Steve throws his head back onto the back of the couch, slapping his hand on his friend’s leg. “Don’t you dare meet with her to talk and tell her that she can move into your home with Izzy, while she grows your baby. You deleted Tinder, you didn’t go see her, and now you’re her student’s father, and she’s carrying your child. Bucky, this is what went wrong with you and Ken.”

“Ken was always a bitch.”

“Yeah, but you moved way to fast, and you still need better condoms. What kind of sperm is your cock growing? Super sperm!”

“Super sperm!” Izzy’s evil laugh can be heard in her bedroom before she opens the door, and runs into her daddy’s lap, “What is super sperm?”

“Steve, tell Izzy what super sperm is.”

“A word that you don’t say. Ever ever,” Izzy isn’t buying it. It’s a word she shouldn’t say, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to know why.

“That makes no sense.”

“It’s an adult word,” she looks at her dad, and back at Steve. “I’m telling the truth. It’s an adult word. You wouldn’t say shit would you?”

“I’m telling my teacher you said all the bad words.”

You pace around your kitchen as you play over Bucky picking up Izzy. Izzy. Your little chameleon. The little girl that will hide what’s really going on in her life, but sometimes these little words come out like her mom hadn’t called her. She is so resilient, and she is Bucky’s daughter. Your baby daddy.

You didn’t see your life this way. You had fully accepted that you were going to be single, and never ever have kids. It was a fairytale dream you had when you were younger. And then Bucky and his fucking super sperm happened. They wiggled their way into your body, and bonded with your egg, and now you’ve got this child growing in you.

He deleted Tinder, which makes sense for all the messages you sent him. You decide you’re going to start off by showing him the messages. Yes. You tried to reach out, but you knew nothing about him, you didn’t even know his fucking last name until he picked Izzy up. Barnes. Baby Barnes. Maybe Barnes. You had already committed to the baby having your last name because you were a loser that didn’t know their child’s father’s last name.

Bucky has to be a nickname anyways, and you didn’t know his real name. That man was drilling into you all night, and you just kept moaning Bucky. What if he had a different name? And you didn’t fucking know, “I’m sorry, baby,” you whine, petting along your stomach.

“I know nothing about your father other than he has a big fucking cock, and it’s slightly curved, and it hits me in just the right spot, and I guess I orgasmed so good that here you are,” you roll your eyes as you look up at the ceiling, feeling your eyes start to fill up with tears.

“Why do you always do this to me? You’re so cute and perfect, and your mom is a fuck up. I didn’t know your dad’s last name. I don’t even know if your dad wants to be in your life, and if he doesn’t and I know who his daughter is that’s going to hurt so much. Izzy’s so sweet,” your voice goes up an octave. “I hate this crying.”

How could you find out all this information and not cry? You didn’t even want to know what the sex of your baby is going to be because it gave you something to look forward to, considering you couldn’t feel its daddy’s dick again. “I shouldn’t think things about your daddy, but he has a really nice cock, and he knows how to use it.”

Your hand rubs up and down the little bump, and you scowl as a vision of Bucky wanting to touch his baby pops into your head, “No, I will not think of him. Why? Because I was supposed to be single all my life. Now I’ve got a fucking crib in my fucking office, and I can’t stop saying fuck, and I’m becoming a mother. And I’m so pissed off with how stupid I was. And I’m not getting my hopes up in thinking that Bucky wants to be in our lives, because he already has a child, and a baby mama who sounds like a bitch, and if I saw her I would punch her for Izzy. What mother doesn’t call their child? Ugh!”

He is coming over today, and you didn’t have to give him your address, he remembered. Asshole. He remembered, but didn’t bother to come by and see you. If you were oh so wonderful why couldn’t he spare a drive to your apartment? Why was the deleting of Tinder an excuse, and why did you believe it at that moment?

“I am not supposed to be stressed!” You scream, and rub on your belly, apologizing. “Ahh!” Flinching, and screaming when a loud knock happens on your door. “I’m coming,” hating yourself for saying that because you know who it is, and the last time you said that was under very different circumstances.

You swing the door open, and smile at him. Your heart hurts just to see his face. Brows tilt up as he looks around your body, “Why are you stressed?” Is he looking for a source of stress? The source is right in front of you with his big cock self.

“You heard that?”

“The walls here are too thin.”

“Are you insulting my home,” he cringes. Literally cringes. “I see.”

“It’s not the nicest neighborhood,” okay, you carried the little cat keychain and pepper spray, you’re sure most girls do. But you feel extremely defensive about his comments. “Can I come in?”

“Are you sure the walls won’t be too thin?”

“I didn’t mean to insult your home.”

“Good you didn’t seem to mind them being thin a few months ago when…” he doesn’t even let you finish. He presses a finger up against your mouth and shushes you. “What are you doing?”

“I apologize. I started this off completely wrong, and I don’t want thing to continue this way. However, you are pregnant with my child and I have questions,” his child. He’s already throwing that word around. “Miss Fawn, I know I’m saying all the wrong things. I’m sorry, truly.”

You take a deep breath as you move away from the door, holding out a hand for him to continue in. He walks past, but keeps looking towards you. His eyes flicking down to your stomach, and you can’t stand it. “Why didn’t you come to my apartment?”

“What?”

“When you deleted the app. Stop. Pause,” you inhale deeply, and look away from him. It hurts to see him, knowing that part of him has been growing inside of you, and he’s missed so much.

“I’m very emotional right now. It’s not just the pregnancy, it’s you. You’re Izzy’s dad, and the father of my child, and this is very overwhelming to me, and I need to change my office to the baby’s room, and I really don’t want to. Definitely not yet, and not — alone. But I need it. I’m not just a teacher, I’m working on something, and,” you take a another deep breath as you try and center your thoughts. “Why didn’t you come here? You remembered where I lived, but you didn’t.”

He sighs. His eyes flicker all over your face, and he gives you that judging look your parents have been giving you since you told them you were pregnant and you didn’t know the baby’s daddy, “Don’t pity me.”

“I’m trying to figure out why I didn’t think of that,” the giggle that releases from your mouth is just as much tears as a laugh. “Can I hug you?”

“I’d really like that,” gulping, you allow him to embrace you, and it feels so right. So warm, and his hand naturally dips to your belly, and he holds your baby just like you dreamed he would, and you hate that you’re getting choked up that your baby’s daddy wants them. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.”

“This doesn’t solve anything,” he huffs out a laugh, and his breath fans over your skin, and you actually tremble. A soft whimper edges out of your throat. The hand on your belly, the place where his child is growing, tightens. “Bucky,” you whisper, taking a step back from him, and he retreats immediately. “We should talk,” you need air and a chance to breathe, and this is just all too much.

“Yes, talk. We left some unfinished business last time.”

“I really can’t handle talking about last time.”

“Why’s that?” Oh, he can’t apologize himself through this. You have thought and thought, and thought some more about last time. The time that got you knocked up and single. The time that changed your world completely, and he was fuck off somewhere. Being pregnant really gives you a potty mouth.

“Because last time you fucked me three ways from Sunday, all fucking night long. Then you stayed. We showered, and fucked some more. Then we got in the bed, and you woke me up by sucking on my clit, and fucked me slowly, and then you carried me into this fucking kitchen, and you had breakfast already delivered. And…well, you know. Why are you smiling?”

“Izzy does this thing whenever she hears me or Steve say a bad word, she always says she’s going to tell you, and I counted five bad words in that story.”

God, he was so fucking cute! Bastard. And he counted your ‘bad words’? Was he even paying attention? “That’s not funny.”

“She would be very disappointed to know that you talk like that.”

“Not in front of kids,” he points at your stomach, and your natural response is to cover the swell with your arms. “They don’t count.”

“They?” His eyes go wide as he looks at your belly. “How many are in there?”

“One. I just don’t want to know what they are. The doctor tried, and I screamed at him,” you see his Adam’s apple bob while his eyes drift back down to your stomach. A sadness creeps over his face and you’re very confused. “What?”

“You’ve been to the doctor?”

“A few times. I needed to. I’m pregnant. It was like I knew immediately, and my ass went to the doctor, and they confirmed it. Got to hear their heartbeat, and stop looking at me that way!” It’s pitiful and you would just about drop to your knees and start sucking his dick if it would make that pouty face stop. Why is he cuter now that his child is growing in you?

“I missed hearing the first heartbeat,” fuck him. There’s this adorable look he gives you, but it breaks your heart. Realizing that Bucky really wanted this life.

“It still beats. Come here,” you take him to the tiny living room, and point towards the couch before retreating into your office/baby room, and come back with a device. Pulling up your shirt, and he bites on his lip. “Don’t tell me you have a breeding kink,” you giggle as you spread on some gel, and place a wand on your stomach.

Moving it around as you smile at him, “Come on. Your…father is waiting.”

“Daddy.”

“Daddy?” You ask, moving the wand around some more.

“If it’s okay. That’s what I’d like the baby to call me,” do not cry. Don’t you dare fucking cry. Find the damn heartbeat. Please, find it. Find. It. “Oh my god,” Bucky sits up straighter on the couch, staring straight at your Doppler wand. “Is that?”

“Yeah,” you smile, tears brimming your eyes, “That’s my — your — it’s our baby. I make a routine to listen to it every day. I think they enjoy it. I talk to them all the time. That’s who I was talking to when you said I had thin walls.”

“You do. It’s not insulated well, but this is amazing,” he changed that sentence real quick, and you don’t even care. “That’s our baby,” our. He fucking sucks. You’re trying to have an adult conversation and not want to worship his balls for giving you this incredible moment, and life growing in you. Thank you, testicles, for fucking a baby into your belly so you could have this man as your baby daddy. He’s hot, cute, and sweet. Goddammit.

“So?”

“So,” he responds, waiting for you to put the Doppler up, and you look at him. “Thank you.”

“Why?” You know this asshole is going to say something sweet, and you’re trying not to fall in love with your baby daddy who you only had sex with once. One night. Multiple times. Who is counting?

“I don’t know. For being incredible. For not being a bitch, and resenting me. For giving me a chance. And you’re not being weird about this, and I should apologize on behalf of my sperm.”

”Please, don’t do that?”

“Why?”

“Because I get horny thinking about your sperm. Oh my god that sounds so weird. What I mean is that your condom removal, sir, should be written about. I mean — can I lay everything out on the line?”

“I really wish you would,” is there pleading in Bucky’s voice? Is he getting horny with cum talk? He did have a fucking breeding kink. You’d make a note of that. It could serve you well later.

“That night, that glorious, amazing, wonderful night, I haven’t been able to get it off my mind. Don’t touch me while I’m making a point,” his hand retreats from your knee so quickly. He did want you. He’s just as much of a horny bastard as you, and you’re sure with a breeding kink added the fact that you are swollen with his child makes him that much more needy.

“The sex was fucking amazing, but we’re in a different place now, you and I.”

“Sure,” he agrees, but you can tell his tone lacks conviction. It’s true, you are in a different place.

“I don’t know what your intentions are with me or our child, it’s such new information to you. But I’m not a free sex toy. I get I’m already knocked up, so you could blow your warm, glorious load inside of me,” he snorts, covering his mouth, as he apologizes. “I’m sorry, I’m socially a bit awkward with adults, and I’ve been a bit of a recluse. And I’ve never had a baby daddy before, and I’m trying to finish my first book.”

“Honestly, you’re fine. Your embarrassment is adorable,” aw, he thinks you're adorable, and it infuriates you.

“What I mean is I don’t want to have sex.”

“What?” Is that fucking disappointment in his voice? What the fuck? Were you just a fucking sex doll he could put his cum in? “I didn’t mean it that way. I wasn’t actually thinking about fucking you.”

“Why not?” That is rude. You were thinking about fucking him. And sucking him. Even about kissing each of his balls over and over again, and thanking them for their service before you sucked each in your mouth, and fist his cock. You just weren’t ready for sex, but you wanted it so bad. You were trying to be a respectful mother. And then he can respectfully disrespect you.

“I would very like to fuck you again.”

“Okay,” that is satisfactory enough for now. You know your shoulders shimmy because you may be growing a human, but you are growing his human. It’s different. Since he very much would like to fuck you again it adds a bit of a confidence boost.

“I have been here before. I tried so hard to make it work with Kenton, Izzy’s mom, but all she wanted was my credit card, and not my daughter. And yes, I say mine, because Izzy is all mine. I will fight for her, and I will fight for ours. But I don’t want to fight you. I’m too damn old. And I don’t want to do this alone. Do you?”

You shake your head no as the pesky tears start to fill your eyes. You didn’t want to be a single mom. “Good. But we’ve had one night together. We talked and had fun, but I was too concerned with getting my cock in your tight pussy to be bothered with anything else.”

“You think I have a tight pussy?” Why are the things this man says doing things for you?

He laughs, nodding his head. His shoulders bounce up and down with joy, and he gets the prettiest pink on his cheeks. He is sweet too. “You have the tightest pussy,” aww!! You aren’t sure why that is so sweet and sexy, but it is. He likes your puss!

“What I mean is we’ve got a lot to learn and not a lot of time to do it,” this much is obvious. You’ve been thinking about their life from the moment it was confirmed you were pregnant.

”I know, they’ll be here before you know it.”

“I’ve got more than enough room in my house,” left turn. Left turn. Absolutely not. “The baby would have its own room, and not your office. You could have an office, and even…”

“No.”

“But,” abort mission. Abso-fucking-lutely not.

“I don’t want to move in with you. We just said we can’t jump into having sex.”

“Can you let me finish?” You huff out air, but shut up. Rude. “You would have your own room, too. I don’t like this neighborhood.”

“This is my home!” He is back to hating this neighborhood. Self righteous prick.

“Is this where you’ve always wanted to live?”

“No, but this is mine! If I move in with you, it’s yours. And what if we don’t work out, I’m homeless,” rule number one, don’t let a man dictate your life and tell you what to do.

“I wouldn’t do that to my child.”

“You’d take them away from me like…”

“Stop right now,” you went too far, and you knew it. You knew before you started that sentence you should halt. “I will not argue about my daughter. And I never took her from Ken, she left her. You know the fucked up thing? I can’t get her for abandonment because she left her with her father. She didn’t abandon her. A parent is taking care of her. But we’re not doing this, so if you want to continue the conversation we can, but this isn’t up for debate.”

“Bucky, I’m sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have gone there. You’re a great dad. I would know,” he nods with his jaw tight and tensing, thanking you silently. “I just — this place isn’t much, but it’s mine. And I just don’t want to put myself in a position where a man can take advantage of me, and I’m trapped.”

“How about the money you pay for rent here, you put it into savings, so if anything happens, you have that money.”

“What do you do?”

“I work construction.”

“I’ve had you growing inside of me and I didn’t know that. Or your name. So this is fast. And I’m overwhelmed. It’s so much. It’s too much sometimes. And moving in with you seems so permanent, but,” tears start pouring out of your eyes because your dreams of becoming a mother never started off like this. You knew life and fiction were not the same thing and you knew that you could be in worse positions, but this is so confusing.

“I want our baby to have both of us in their life, and I don’t want to go between homes, and I don’t want to get up with the baby by myself all night long. And this apartment smells funny in the summer, and I do hate it. And my car had a flat tire the other day, and I was late to work because my dad couldn’t get here, and he found out my tire was slashed, and I’m not a terrible tenant, but I’m so scared.”

“Come here,” he doesn’t even wait for you to get up, he just pulls you into his lap. Resting his chin on top of your head as you wail. Why is all that fucking shit just pouring out of you? Why can you not control these damn tears? It’s his fault. You had every word planned out, and then he gets here, and everything evaded you.

“I can’t even nest. And the books say to nest, but our baby’s room is a mess. It’s so ugly. And I can’t paint here, and I don’t know if my lease can have another human. And they’re going to be human,” of course your baby was a fucking human. What else were they supposed to be? “I’m a basket case.”

“You’re pregnant, baby,” why did that sound so sweet? Ugh, he feels so warm and hard and so right. “Shh, it’s okay. We can get you an apartment closer to my house.”

“But I don’t want to be alone with a baby. I’ve never done this before.”

“I know, but I have done this. It’s okay. It’s going to be fine. You can have your own room. And it’s an open invitation, okay?” Why is it hard? Why did this decision give you so much pause and anxiety? Ugh, you hate this. Because moving in feels like you’re drowning. Giving it all up so quickly for a man. But if you had to make it work.

“I don’t want to just be roommates that have a child.”

“I don’t either,” he almost growls in your ear. “We can start off slow, and go on dates. Like out of the house.”

“Bucky?”

“Hmm?”

“What are you going to tell Izzy?”

“Fuck,” one word, and you feel the same. This is confusing to you, and she’s a child. Izzy knows you’ve been pregnant, and out of all the kids in your class, she loved it. Always asked to touch your belly, and to go to the baby’s birthday shower. It’s so cute. But how is she going to handle dealing with the fact that your baby is also her daddy’s baby?

“We’ll figure it out,” that’s better than nothing, but leaves a lot to the imagination. What did that mean? “Shh, try to rest. I’ll keep holding you as long as you need,” this is so sweet, and it’s going to be hard because fuck him and his fucking amazing cock. But it will be worth it for you and your unborn child to take things slow. So fucking slow.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @buckybarnesisdaddy @theinheriteddutchess @w1nter-wolf-barnes1 @distractingbeth @mdpplgtz03 @sjsmith56 @winterslove1917 @ryuuisthecutest @buckybarnessimpp @slowdownbeforeyouregretit @ozwriterchick @kandis-mom @thedonswife13 @sarahdonald87 @pono-pura-vida

[twilghtkoo]

ride: rendezvous [part two] jjk

“where we going?” “you’ll see.”

summary. you’re having one of the worst days so jungkook takes you to his favorite place

pairings. biker!jungkook x reader (f)

genres/aus. fluff, comfort, s2l, f2l, college au

warnings. slight peek of popular!jk, reader has anxiety, mentions of a panic attack

word count.

notes. this series is in chronological order so this is a bit after their first date!! a scene that i wrote is inspired by a tiktok i saw 🛐 guys i was deadass when i said i keep seeing motorcycle tiktoks on my fyp T__T it was so random but my brain somehow connected it to jungkook, anyway !!! stream still with you and likes/reblogs are appreciated >_<

[ series masterpost | masterlist | taglist ]

—

you failed.

you failed the test.

you stared at your laptop screen, the big, bold, red colored fifty-nine almost mocking you in a sense. if the nine grew a pair of eyes and a mouth it’d be laughing at you right now.

you don’t get it. you’ve studied for this test, knowing it’d play a big part in your overall grade, and you still managed to flunk it.

tears started to form, blurring your vision, before you remember that you’re in the library that occupy other fellow students that don’t need to see a mental breakdown and a forming anxiety attack. even though they probably would’ve understood. you shut your laptop and shove the electronic inside your bag, standing up to push your chair in to make your way to the exit doors.

jungkook isn’t here with you today. he was working on a project with a couple of his classmates somewhere on campus, you can’t remember his text.

and although you wish you could just dial his number and cry to him, you don’t. no matter how bad your chest is tightening. instead, just taking the bus home and already deciding to have a crying session with your pillows.

-

“see you later jeon.”

jungkook waves one last time to namjoon and taehyung, his classmates, before he heads in the opposite direction. shoving his hands in the front of his jean pockets as he takes his time to walk to the campus’s parking garage.

he can feel the stares of the people who pass by but he ignores them.

he’s reminded of the one girl who’s been on his mind and he pulls his phone out to see if he’s gotten any notifications from you. but there’s none.

that’s strange. he pouts at his screen, only a few notifications being emails from his teachers and some from social media. but they don’t speak out to him the way yours do. he’s familiar with your schedule so he knows you’re out of class already. you usually text him to tell him how your class went and spam his tiktok with a dozen of tiktoks— he watches them all by the way.

before he concerns any further, his phone dings and he freezes.

“oh, jungkook!” a girl shouts from behind him, waving to get his attention. quickly glancing at her before he starts to pick up his pace. is she from one of his classes? he can’t remember.

he gives a tight lipped smile before he starts jogging. “can’t talk right now.”

yn 👑

ur out of class aren’t u, can u come over? ;-;

-

you got home about an hour ago and you still haven’t broke down. the heavy weight on your chest was becoming too much, but why won’t your body let you give out.

you groan out loud, turning over on your bed and clutching your plushie that looks like it’s been through hell and back— you’ve had it since you were a kid, okay— tighter against your chest. hoping it’ll ease the pain in your chest.

the familiar roar of a motorcycle awakens you and you’re quick to hop on your feet and rush to your door.

by the time you open your front door jungkook was just walking towards you.

“hey princess, eager to see me?” he chuckles, brushing back the strands of hair from his forehead with his tatted hand. it’s the same strands that have you itch to brush them yourself. an action that seemed too intimate, you weren’t sure if you could handle that. but you wanted to test the waters.

not trusting what you would say if you opened your mouth so you nod.

“you okay? anything happened today?” he asks while stepping into your home after you told him to come in. it’s not the first he’s been inside your home, your safe space that surrounds colors, photos and a scent that screamed you.

from his questions, the tightening feeling in your chest returned and you wince.

your fists are by your sides, opening and closing.

“i think i’m okay, i don’t know. and yeah, something did happen.” you responded softly. he observes the way your eyes dodge his and lower at his feet. something was definitely clouding your mind.

he sighs. “wanna come with me somewhere? you can tell me when we get there, if you want.”

“where we going?” you ask, as you get yourself comfortable behind him, before circling your arms around him.

he kicks the kickstand off, turning his head with his helmet on. “you’ll see.” revving the throttle as you both head to your destination.

-

“a park,” you giggled. “are you healing your inner child?”

he smirks at you, helping you with your helmet. since your first date, every time you are on his bike he becomes so attentive towards you.

“no, but i thought we could go on the swings and if you’re comfortable enough you can tell me who or what made you sad.”

your eyes dance over to the vacant playground behind him and back up to his eyes that are studying yours.

“you gonna beat up somebody for me?” you joke, but his face remains the same but with amusement behind his orbs.

“yah,” you nudge his side with your finger making him break his tough side, finally breaking out into a smile. the mole under his bottom lip reveals itself and you have to fight yourself to not reach on your tippy toes and kiss the beauty mark.

he gently places a hand on your waist, pulling you along with him. “come on, i’ll push you.” he tells you, leading you to the two swings.

you sit on a swing, holding onto the rusty chains as jungkook gets behind you. the mulch underneath you both crunching from his chunky boots.

“don’t push me too hard.” you tell him, a bit scared.

he lets out a laugh, “i won’t, promise.”

jungkook and you fall into a comfortable silence as he pushes you, careful not to push you too high.

“i failed my test.” you confess, you watch your still feet pass by the scenery blur beneath you.

“and i’m mad at myself because i studied so hard for it yet i managed to fail. god, and i don’t even want to see how much it dropped my grade, i literally almost had a panic attack in the library, but i left, and i wanted to contact you but remembered you were with your classmates so i had plans to cry into my pillow and fall into a pit of self-deprecation—“

jungkook grabs hold onto the swings chains to still you. “woah, woah princess, shhh.” he comes around to crouch down in front of you.

jungkook has never comforted someone, never been in a situation where a person in front of him showed their weakness. but you’re different. the way your voice cracked before he cut you off broke something inside him. it was an act of instinct how he’s crouching in front of you, his hands wrapped around the rusty chains next to your hips. he doesn’t know the first thing on how to console someone but for you he’ll learn today.

“do you want my advice or do you want to be held?” he asks you, his eyes raking over your facial features.

you purse your lips, curling your hands into your thighs before shyly answering, “can you hug me?”

he softly chuckles before straightening his legs, his figure towering over you before he envelopes you in a hug. cradling your head close to his chest.

once you were engulfed in the boy who slowly yet managed to warm up to your heart, you let out small cries. your fingers gripping the denim fabric of his jean jacket.

“you can cry princess, i won’t ever judge you.” he mumbles, his large hand brushing your head.

you don’t want to scare him but those words make you cry harder. like you’ve always wanted to hear those words.

-

you gasp, the palm of your hand is covering your mouth as you turn to jungkook. “let’s play rock, paper, scissors.” you suggest, grinning at him.

you cocks an eyebrow, “for?”

“if i win, i get to take your spot and you have to sit behind me. but if you lose…hm..i don’t know.” you laugh.

“i really like you princess, but i won’t let you ride us to our death.”

did your brain even process his words?

you smack him on the shoulder, he doesn’t even flinch. “no, just to sit. please,” you beg, putting your hands together and poking out your bottom lip and batting your eyelashes.

jungkook observes you with a smirk. do you even know that if you weren’t begging he would have said yes to you. because you affect him in that way.

in a way he’ll do anything for you.

he scoffs, letting out sigh and bringing out his hands out of his pockets. “okay.”

-

“rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

you: paper

jungkook: scissors

“two out of three!” you exclaim.

he laughs but accepts it.

“rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

you: rock

jungkook: scissors

“rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

you: scissors

jungkook: paper

“i won, you lose!” you bring your index and middle finger to cut his imaginary paper that’s his hand before jumping up and down.

he shakes his head. “you win,” he states, taking a step closer and leaning in.

“hop on, loser.” you jog over to his parked bike, throwing your leg over the seat to sit. you lean forward to grab the hand clutches with a big smile on your face.

“vroom, vroom,” you mimic the sound of the bike coming to life in an adorable way that has jungkook turning his head so you don’t see the goofy smile on his face. the way your figure looks tiny on the seat of his usual spot compared to him. your feet can barely even touch the ground.

he reaches in the front of his pant pocket. “let me take a photo of you.” he spoke, you nod giving him permission.

he quickly snaps a few photos of you before he finally makes his way over to you. leaving a mental note to send them to you and to look over them when he gets home. with one hand placed over your hip he manages to sit behind you. his legs are placed a bit uncomfortable but he doesn’t complain, instead he grabs your waist and squeezes it.

you let out a breathy laugh, “we look so silly right now. my feet can’t even touch the ground.” you wiggle your feet in front of you.

“what if i got a bike?” you ask, dipping your toes in the water. you would never get a bike, but you want to see his reaction.

he shakes his head, the wavy strands framing his face swaying left and right. “definitely not. bikes are dangerous, plus princesses can’t ride bikes.” he tries to reason with you.

you pout your lips, “princess peach does.” you mutter.

he scoffs, “babe, this isn’t mario kart silly. and, i enjoy having you as my backpack.”

[explosionkatsu]

"Age doesn't matter" 15

Dad!Bakugo x F!Babysitter!Teacher!Reader

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

It’s been days since Y/n started babysitting Kazui. After the administration suspended the class due to the villain attack, Y/n had to email every parent about what would happen and how can the children still catch up with their lessons, as well as mail them the day-to-day school activities. But for Kazui, instead of mailing Katsuki the manuscripts, she has Kazui’s daily school activity printed out and hands it to him personally.

No, she won't teach him at all. It may be part of her babysitting job but being his school instructor, she treats her pupils equally. That implies no special treatment for Kazui.

Although almost every day she can hear Katsuki lecturing Kazui whenever he sees him writing down the wrong answer. Sometimes she’ll catch him smacking his head which will earn him a lecture from her.

She remembered when she first did it in front of Eijiro. The guy was taken aback of course, but surprisingly, Katsuki behaved which made Eijiro taken back more.

“Did you just...- What?” The poor guy was confused.

Today, Katsuki’s on his daily pratol and you were working in the Dining area where you can keep an eye on Kazui who completed his homework and was just watching tv now.

All of a sudden you received an email from the school principal. Clicking it open, Y/n read the content. It was apparently an email about the new employee since some of the kindergarten teachers resigned after the incident. The principal is basically relying on her since she’s one of those who stayed.

“Another work, then.” Y/n mumbled but started responding to the email anyway. It’s not like she has a choice not to. But deep down, she wanted to leave her job as well, not because she was hired as a babysitter, it’s because of the workload which has been keeping her up till midnight.

And yes, Katsuki noticed this. He has very observant eyes, we all know that. He can see her strained smile whenever Kazui comes up to her to show anything he drew.

“Ah. I guess that’s it for now.” Y/n yawned as she stretched her limbs. Once done stretching, she checked the time to see it was almost dinner. Which means, he’ll be here anytime now.

“Time to make dinner, Kazui-chan.”

Kazui beamed once he heard Y/n. He always wanted to be a great good like his dad, so Y/n agreed that Kazui can help her or watch beside her.

“What will we be cooking today, Miss Y/n?” Kazui asked while rocking on his heels. A mannerism Y/n found out whenever he’s excited.

“Well, I always wanted to try something new. I just need to see if we have all the ingredients.” Y/n smiled as soon as she finished packing her things before proceeding to the kitchen.

Once she checked the fridge, “Huh. It seems like we’re missing one ingredient.” Y/n pouted. “I guess another dish, then.”

…

“Tadaima.”

Very uneventful, is what in his mind. Katsuki groaned as he stepped in and set his boots aside.

“Papa!”

Well, at least he got home unharmed.

“Hey, brat.” Katsuki grinned and picked up Kazui who dashed towards him.

“How was your day, papa? Miss Y/n is cooking dinner!” Kazui beamed while being carried by his father.

“What the hell? Again? I swear to God.” Katsuki tsked after knowing this. Careful, he put Kazui down and marched toward the kitchen where he saw you cooking.

“What did I tell you, hah?” He was pissed, alright.

By accident, you dropped the spatula you were using startled by his voice. You didn’t expect him to come home this early, way too early actually.

“W-what are you doing here?” You said while trying to use your body to cover the dish you were cooking from his view.

“What the hell do you mean? This is my house.” Katsuki pointed out, arms crossed over his chest with Kazui beside him, holding him by his pants. “Didn’t I tell you to not cook? That ain’t part of your job.” He groaned.

“If I didn’t cook us our meal, we won’t be able to eat supper and you’ll come home with an empty stomach.” You pouted while slowly picking up the spatula.

“I said you can order out. Didn’t I leave you enough money for that?”

“Well, I’m sorry but inside of ordering unhealthy food, I used the money to buy something healthy since Kazui is still a growing boy.” You said after successfully picking the spatula. “Besides, you should know this. You’re a hero. You need to maintain a proper diet and have a healthy meal.” You said before turning your back at him to focus on finishing your cooking.

Katsuki’s lips twitched at your response.

“Hey brat.”

Kazui looked up at him curiously. “Yes papa?”

“Take my bag to my room. Bring me a clean pair of comfortable clothes. I just need to talk to Miss Y/n.” Katsuki handed Kazui his bag without looking at him which he took, obviously struggling.

“E-eh?” Your attention was now focused on the struggling Kazui who was hauling his father’s obviously heavy bag.

“It’s alright. This is how I train him.” Katsuki said to you, but eyes still engaged on you.

“O-okay.” You responded still concerned.

“I can’t pay you more if you keep doing this.” Katsuki said out of nowhere when he heard Kazui reach the stairs. He doesn’t want his child to overhear this.

“I don’t care.” You responded to him as turned your attention back to the sizzling food in front of you.

“What do you-

“Look.” You started before slightly reducing the heat to prevent the food from burning and set your attention completely on him. “At this point, I don’t care about the extra stuff I don’t have to do. You are a hero and Kazui’s a kid. Both of you need something nutritious since, like I said, Kazui’s a growing kid, and you, for your diet.” You instructed. “You are a parent, and you should know this.”

Katsuki was outraged at your last statement.

“What the hell do you know about being a parent, huh.” He spat, taking Y/n aback. “You are not a mother, so stop nagging me.”

But you’re not backing down.

“I may not be a parent, but I know things about being a good one.” You responded calmly.

“What? You’re saying I’m not a good parent? Hah?” Katsuki dropped his crossed arms and took a step closer to Y/n who didn’t even flinch. “You know nothing, woman.”

Y/n even challenged him by stepping closer to him, almost nose to nose. “I know everything, Katsuki. I also know that you needed help.”

“I don’t.”

“You do. You’re just too prideful to accept one.” You said quietly, almost a whisper.

The space between both of you was enough for Katsuki to study your features. Your (e/c) eyes, your lashes, your nose, and your glossy lips that he’s tempted to touch with his own.

Screw it.

Following his thoughts, Katsuki wrapped his arm around you, taking you by surprise and pulled by your waist as he placed a finger under your chin, tilting your head upwards and as gently as possible, placed his lips onto yours.

He was right about your lips being soft and tender.

You on the other hand were still in shock. You didn’t expect this to happen. Never in your life did you expect Dynamight to kiss you.

When you felt him pull away, you were speechless. Your eyes were looking straight on his, as his to yours. As if everything around you was blurry.

Katsuki was the same as you are though. He was shocked by what he did. Hell, he didn’t even know why he did it. All he knew was your lips looked so glossy.

“Fuck.” He muttered.

“Papa. I hope this is okay.”

Kazui’s voice jolted both of you making you push him away, and him releasing you.

“I- That’s fine.” Katsuki said out loud as he glanced behind him. When he turns to look back at you, you were touching your lips, face flushed while your eyes stare into nothing. “I-“ he was trying, okay? He doesn’t know where to start.

“I-I’ll go back to cooking.” You stuttered and turned back to the stove.

“Y-yeah.” Katsuki agreed as he scratched the back of his head, slightly blushing. “I guess.”

…

It was finally time for Y/n to go back to her apartment and She was a glad about this.

After what happened earlier, the dinner was awkward. Both adults didn’t even glance at each other. Thankfully, Kazui was telling them stuff making the tension in the air light.

When Y/n finally got her things, a knock on the door caught her attention. “Who is it?” She called out. But before she could reach the door, it swung open, revealing Eijiro and Denki.

“Oh. Hey Miss Y/n!”

“Yo!”

“Oh? Good evening.” You bowed and let them in the house.

“Were you about to leave?” Denki asked while eyeing your things lying on the ground.

“Oh. Yes. I was about to.” You smiled at them as you closed the door behind.

“What’re you two idiots doing here, hah.” Katsuki’s emerged from the kitchen while wiping his hands dry. He did the dishes, okay? “And keep it down, Kazui’s asleep.”

“We’re just stopping by. Kaminari here wanted to visit Kazui and have a little drink with you, so I joined him.” Eijiro grinned at Katsuki and sat on the couch.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit late to drink? We have an early patrol tomorrow, morons.” Katsuki said while hanging the wet towel on its rack and joining them in the living room.

“Come on, man. We drove all the here to see you.” Denki pouted. “I wanted to see the kid as well.”

“Tsk. Fine.” Katsuki agreed. “After I drop Y/n to her place, and don’t wake Kazui, got it.”

“I’m sorry?” You were obviously not listening.

“I said, I’ll drop you to your place.” Katsuki repeated as he grabbed his jacket from the bracket near the entrance and wore it. “As if I’d let you leave this house at this hour, idiot.”

“I can just ride a bus.” You said as you watched Katsuki pick your things and left. “Bakugo.” You called, only to get ignored.

“You can’t change his mind, Miss Y/n.” Eijiro chuckled as he watched you try. “He’s one stubborn man.”

“Its not bad to try, right?” You slightly pouted.

“And you’ll only go unnoticed.” Denki smiled at you.

“Sigh. Alright. H-have a great evening to you both.” Once again, you bowed and left the house. “Bakugo!”

Eijiro and Denki were smiling like idiots as they watched your figure disappear from their sight.

“What do you think about her?” Eijiro suddenly asked as he stood up and grab himself a drink.

“Miss Y/N?” Denki asked not making an effort to look at Eijiro. “She seems really nice to me, way too soft for Kacchan.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, bro. She seems like a gentle woman to me. Completely opposite to, you know.” Denki said, this time looking at Eijiro.

“I think they look good together.” Eijiro said as he handed Denki his drink.

…

“Bakugo-san-

“What did I say about formalities?” Katsuki tsked as he placed your things inside the car.

“You don’t have to-

“Sigh.” He was obviously tired of your attempts.

You watched him groan and put both his palm over his face.

“God you’re more stubborn than Kazui.” Katsuki groaned.

“I-I’m sorry.” You murmured to yourself as you play with your fingers.

“Do you want me to kiss you again?”

“W-what?!” “Relax, it’s a joke,” Katsuki smirked at you. “Get in the car.”

-

Hello, my lovelies! I am glad to be back. I am once again apologizing for disappearing like that. But here's part 15. I do hope you like this and stay tuned for 16. Thank you for all your patience.

[sam-the-pancake]

I wasn't gonna make a post about this anymore because it resolved, but I still want to talk about it. My writing style is long and rambly so TL;DR at the bottom.

Yesterday was the first day of the college course I'm taking (I'm getting my master's in Special Education if anyone's interested). It's a class from 5pm until 8pm, and most days it's after a full day of work for me, so I've elected to mainly use my wheelchair. But since I'm ambulatory I decided to bring my cane in case I needed the bathroom or something so I don't have to struggle with the doors. This classroom of course didn't have a desk without a chair attached so as we sat in a circle I put my bag on the desk behind me and rested my cane against it.

Anyone who uses a cane knows that they fall over. A lot. I kept telling both the professor and the students next to me to please just leave it on the floor when it falls over but of course they didn't listen. They had to "help" the poor cripple. Well class ends and I grab my bag and head home. When I get to my house I realize that I don't have my cane with me to help me down the stairs to my apartment. It wasn't with my bag when I left class so I forgot it. I tell my partner that I'm going back to campus to get the cane I forgot. This is my only cane. I use it any time I leave the house. Even if I'm planning on using my wheelchair when I get somewhere I like to have the cane in the car.

In the 20min it took me to drive home and back the cane is gone. I look all over the first floor of the building without an aid since I expected it to be quick. I sit down and email the professor and campus lost and found before making my way back to the car.

AN HOUR LATER, an hour and a half after the class has ended, I get an response email from the professor and a girl from the class. The girl saw that I forgot it (I still don't know where it had been) and took it hoping to see me before I left. She probably felt like she was doing her good deed for the day. Except I have a medical exception letting me park in the teacher parking lot right outside the building, and she probably brought it to the student parking across campus in the other direction. And then when she didn't find me she didn't reach out!

If she had wanted to be helpful she should have stayed in the classroom with it, or gone back to class when she couldn't find me, and sent me an email. I know that to ableds it's just a stick, but a month ago that was my only mobility aid. I have not left the house without it for 2 years. I'm not leaving the house until I get it back. I'm in pain today because I walked around for 10min without it. She waited for me to reach out about it to let me know she had my mobility aid. And I know she waited because she told the professor she had it. If she had wanted my email she could have asked the professor for it or for my full name to look it up in the directory.

In her email she said "I was really worried someone would take it." Guess what! YOU took it! Again, I understand that it wasn't her intention, but it's the reality of what happened. She removed it from the room and didn't reach out to tell me where it was (neither did the Prof!).

Non-mobility aid users don't touch our aids! Don't move our aids! DONT FUCKING TAKE THEM HOME WITH YOU! This wouldn't have been a problem if during class people would have respected me and left it on the floor with my stuff like I said to.

TL;DR: My cane was falling over in class and the people kept touching it and eventually must have moved it. This caused me to forget it when I left in my wheelchair. Some girl from class took it home with her "so no one would take it" so it wasn't there when I returned. She didn't reach out to me so I didn't know where it was. Prof let her know I emailed asking about it. She's bringing it back to me today, but I can't comfortably leave the house until I get it back because I'm in pain from looking for it without an aid. ABLEDS RESPECT MOBILITY AID USERS BOUNDARIES AND DONT MOVE OUR AIDS OR TAKE THEM FUCKING HOME CHALLENGE

[elizabethsnuts]

Can I request Connor Rhodes x teen!daughter!reader where she's falling behind in school but is trying to hide it from him so as to not disappoint him, and then when he finds out he expresses that he's not disappointed but that he wished she would've come to him for help. If not, I completely understand, but I just gotta say, I love your writing!

You’re Not a Failure

Connor Rhodes x Daughter!reader

Summary: Connor’s daughter is struggling in school and tries to hide it from him.

A/N: Thank you for requesting! I’m glad you like my writing, it means a lot <3

———

It was the exams after exams after exams, the nights of endless studying and the sleep deprivation that hit you.

You sat at the boring old wooden school desk, your test paper was flipped over to the back so the result was hidden. You stared at the back of the test paper , you couldn’t bring yourself to flip it over but you did. Yet another ‘D’. You groaned to yourself in frustration, shoving your paper in your bag, zipping it up and slinging it over your shoulder.

———

That night, Connor walked into the apartment, weary from a long day at the hospital. As he kicked off his shoes and hung up his coat, he noticed you sitting at the kitchen table with your textbooks spread out in front of you. You looked tense, your brow furrowed in concentration.

"Hey, sweetheart, how was your day?" Connor asked, walking over to you.

You looked up and forced a smile. "It was fine, Dad. Just studying for a test."

Connor nodded. “How’d your test go today? You said you were getting your results back?”

You froze, your eyes slightly widening. You swallowed down the lump in your throat and answered your dad. “Uh no not yet… they said there was still a uhm couple more to be uh marked.”

Connor stared at you for a moment before slowly nodding his head. “Alright, that’s okay.” He knew something was up but he didn’t want to push her to talk.

———

That same night, Connor received an unexpected email from your teacher. It detailed your recent struggles in class—falling grades, missed assignments, and a noticeable lack of focus. Concerned, Connor called the school immediately and arranged a meeting with your teacher.

Later during dinner Connor decided to confront you, he wanted to help you. He couldn’t let himself just ignore the fact his own daughter was struggling.

“So, Y/n. I got an email from your teacher, you’re struggling in school. Why didn’t you tell me? I want to help you sweetheart but I can’t if you don’t tell me these things.” Connor said as he saw your eyes fill with tears and stream down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry dad! I didn’t want to disappoint you. I can’t focus, I can’t listen properly! It feels like everything the teacher says just goes in one ear and out the other! I didn’t want you to think I was a failure…” You let the tears fall, the waterworks arriving. Your nose running and tears overflow as you spoke.

Connor wrapped his arms around you, his heart breaking at your obvious distress. "Y/N, sweetheart, I'm not disappointed in you and I will never ever think you’re a failure. I just wish you had come to me sooner. You don't have to face this alone. I want to help you, I don’t want you to suffer alone."

He assured you that the two of you would work through your difficulties together, and he would do whatever it took to help you succeed. Whether it was tutoring, therapy, or simply spending more time studying together, Connor was determined to support his daughter every step of the way.

The next exam that rolled around, you passed with flying colours. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders. With your father by your side, you knew that you’d never be alone in tour struggles. And Connor, proud of his daughter's resilience, vowed to always be there for you, no matter what challenges you faced together.

[missbluesunflowersstuff]

I think the only right way for Damian to become Batman is much slower than everyone thinks

Just image: Damian in the future as a veterinary student, slowly distancing himself from the world of vigilantes and Bruce, an old man, with aching and tired bones, who has suffered with chronic pain for years (you'll have to take chronic pain Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd headcanon from my cold dead hands) getting ready to go on patrol once again. There are a series of murders happening and he wants to investigate

And Damian goes into the cave (maybe to take care of Batcow) and see the scene. He feels sorry for his father, Bruce's love for Gotham cursed him and now Gotham was slowly killing him. Then Damian calmly approaches and gently pushes his father into the chair. And in a tired voice Damian says:

“Leave this to me today, father, take your medicine and rest.” "No, Damian. You have to go to college today"

"Gotham is my city too, they're my people too...and they still need Batman"

Damian also knows that Dick has his own city to worry about; that Jason is busy on some mission around the world; that Steph is too tired for this; that Tim is too attached to the Robin mantle for that; that Duke recently had a child with his wife; that Cassandra is now a renowned ballet teacher and Damian doesn't want to get in the way of his siblings' lifes. He knows that if he asked, someone would accept, but everyone is so happy now, it took so long for them to reach that moment... Damian then decides to sacrifice himself that night.

Only that night

He will becomes Batman just that night, so his father can rest, he makes it clear that he will only do it that night

"Don't get used to it, father, it's just for today"

But that news spreads like fire. Even Jon and the other heroes start to inform Damian about things that happen (Batman still is very important in the Justice League) and Damian? Damian ignores

He goes through the messages, emails and claims he only did it once and never again. He forwards everything to Bruce, not wanting to get more involved than is convenient

but then the next month, Bruce has another rough night and Damian takes up the mantle again. This becomes a strange habit between the two of them, slowly and silence, one night a week... two nights a week...

The biggest change happens when Bruce is seriously injured fighting someone much stronger (and younger) in the sewers of Gotham. Damian had an important test at college and Bruce didn't want to call him, it wasn't fair to push that on Damian when the boy made it clear that he didn't want the mantle. So Bruce lies there for hours, in the midst of pain and dirt trying to reorganize his mind until Damian appears, the youngest son noticed that his father hadn't come home yet so he got worried and went after him.

Damian and Bruce open a pact that night, Bruce would stay in the cave supervising and Damian would work in the field

This works very well at first but soon Damian comes home to see his father sleeping, and it becomes a routine. Damian is happy that his father trusts him enough to sleep while his son is on patrol, that's good

the truth only shocks Damian when at a league meeting Jon refers to him as Batman, not Robin or Damian, no. Batman. The Batman.

and even though many people believe that he became Batman out of neopotism, the truth is much more different and sad than that. He became Batman through his own choices and effort, to protect his tired father and also to protect Gotham. Because, in the end, Damian learned to love Gotham the same way Bruce loved it.

Note: I love imagining this old Bruce slowly realizing how unfair he was to Damian his early days, how Bruce only saw Damian as a spoiled brat, a monster covered in blood and mud instead of helping him like Dick, Alfred and Steph did . I love imagining old Bruce kicking himself for not noticing Damian's gentle, compassionate side sooner. Side that was underneath all the anger, dirt and trauma

And also Bruce realizing that Damian is as gentle to people as Talia was in the past Note²: I'm not trying to villainize Bruce and sanctify Damian; Damian did a lot of things, but he was a ten year old child who didn't know how to deal with the world (+brainwashed by a cult) and Bruce was a grown ass man who had been dealing with traumatized people for many years, Bruce should have been more patient with Damian but you still have time now Bruce, you can do it. I believe on you, you can still be a good father

[peppymintdreams]

What If Andrew and Darling Met on Different Terms

I have no idea why this took my so long to write like I was struggling between writing this and doing my actual work late up at night writing this shit 😂

Masterlist 

They kept thinking about it over and over again it repeating in their mind, ____ decided to take a nap before doing their homework that Professor marston assigned, what they didn’t expect was a dream that would soon change their perspective on their very attractive professor, the events on the dream repeated in their thoughts just imagining Andrew pinning them to the wall whispering the dirtiest things and kissing them over and over again the smooth feeling of his lips on theirs the rich sweet taste it left just one kiss was enough to make one desire it.

What were they to do they were lost and they couldn't get him out of their mind and focus on their assignment drawing to pass the time didn't help as all they could draw was him from his nice soft hair his strong jawline those piercing eyes made them kick their legs with joy,

as they wrote all their admiration for their professor they realized something changed it felt like they had just forgotten what they were doing  and saw this entire letter on their ASSIGNMENT written down

realizing this was inappropriate they erased everything that was in the paper and instead drew out a sheet of paper and wrote everything that was previously on the other paper into this one after using two more sheets of paper and several hand cramps they were down letting out a sigh the folded it up and put it in there bag and would give it to him at the end of tomorrow after hours, 

Andrew would be free after that so there would be nothing stopping them from telling Andrew their feelings deciding it was late so they decided to finish what work they had left on their way to classes… as they sat watching the clock soon enough classes were over and they got the letter out of their bag and was ready to give their letter to him this was it…they were going to tell him and nothing was going to stop them

but as they knocked on the door it opened immediately with Andrew saying “my teaching hours are over and I have some important business to attend to, so Tutoring as been cancelled today what ever questions you had please email it to me” and with that before they even got a word he shut the door. At a loss for words ___ walked away “well…shit..that was…rude?” They didn’t know what to say holding the letter in the hand so tight they’d crush their bones if they held any tighter “what am I even doing” realizing how weird this looked..

a student in love with their teacher huh how cliche they felt broken but didn’t know why he was just doing his job and they couldn’t stop him, in a hurt emotion ___ crumpled up the paper and threw it away in a nearby trash bin stupid emotions I was stupid to believe it was real days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months what were they to do they felt loss they had their eyes on him and only him they could tell he was also looking at them, they’d sit and take in every word that came out of his month the smooth assertive tone from his voice made their knees weak,

his handsome face they could study Andrew and pass with flying colors. He was such a work of art to look at everything about him was pure perfecti- “____, did you hear me” Professor Marston spoke snapping them out of their daydream “huh wait what, sorry could you repeat that I kinda got lost on the last bit” they question, rubbing his temple Andrew repeated himself “pay attention ___ In George Orwell's 1984, what is the significance of the phrase "War is Peace, Freedom is Slavery, Ignorance is Strength"? Without even a second thought “In 1984, the phrase "War is Peace, Freedom is Slavery, Ignorance is Strength" shows how the Party uses contradictions to control people's thinking. It means that constant war keeps the country stable, freedom leads to chaos, and staying ignorant makes the Party stronger.”

They said all in one breath on the inside they hoped they were right and not embarrassing themself because they were fantasizing about their professor “correct, please remember to pay attention” he said and went on back to his lecture. Letting out a sigh they continued to gaze at him, Andrew kept talking and with each word ___ fell deeper and deeper in love with him let his eccentric features distract them.

 Soon enough the class was over “alright, that's all for today. Make sure to review the key concepts we discussed,

 especially the contradictions in Orwell's 1984. Remember, next class we'll dive deeper into how language can shape reality, so come prepared. Don’t forget to read the assigned chapters that are uploaded onto moodle, and if you have any questions, for emergencies feel free to reach out via email or come to my office during office hours." And with that the class left but __ stayed back they wanted to tell him “oh ___, you're still here?” He question as if it had been a surprise that they of all people stayed behind 

“uh yeah, I just want to apologize I’d zoned out for a few seconds and didn’t expect to be called on” they said a nervous laugh escaping them “it is quite alright loads of students daze out when in my class some even think it’s a good idea to come here for free naps, when they should be coming here for their education to learn” he said “but I’m assuming you come here for��other reasons” he said given them a gaze and a smirk feeling the weight of pressure,  

___ felt their heart race at his words, the playful smirk lingering on his lips. The weight of his gaze felt like a spotlight, illuminating the unspoken feelings between them. "Well, I mean, your lectures are quite engaging," they replied, trying to sound casual, but their voice wavered slightly.

Andrew chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned against his desk. “Engaging? Is that what we’re calling it these days?” He folded his arms, his expression softening. “But really, I appreciate your honesty. It’s nice to see a student who actually cares.”

The compliment sent a flutter through ___’s chest. They shifted on their feet, suddenly aware of how close they were standing to him. “I do care,” they said, their voice steadier now. “It’s just… sometimes I get lost in my thoughts, you know?”

He nodded, his eyes searching for theirs. “I understand. Sometimes my thoughts wander too, especially when I’m caught up in teaching.” The atmosphere thickened with an unspoken tension, each word laden with meaning.

“Is it bad that I enjoy your class more than I probably should?” ___ asked, taking a half-step closer. Their pulse quickened, uncertainty mingling with excitement.

Andrew’s smirk faded, replaced by a more serious expression. “It’s not bad at all, but…” He hesitated, glancing toward the door as if ensuring no one else was around. “You know there are boundaries we have to be careful about, right?”

___ felt a pang of disappointment, but they nodded. “I get it. But it’s hard not to feel something when you spend so much time together.” They took a deep breath, gathering courage. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“No, you’re not overstepping,” Andrew replied, his voice gentle. “It’s just complicated.”

Just then, the faint sound of students chatting outside snapped them back to reality. Andrew pushed himself off the desk and straightened up. “You should get going before someone sees you here alone with me. We don’t want rumors spreading, do we?” He tried to lighten the mood, but the gravity of the moment hung between them.

“Right,” ___ said reluctantly, stepping back. “Thanks for understanding. I’ll see you in class next week?”

Andrew nodded, a hint of warmth in his eyes. “Of course. And remember, if you ever need to talk about anything—school or otherwise…personal matters I’m here.”

With that, ___ turned to leave, their mind racing with what had just transpired. As they stepped into the hallway, they couldn’t shake the feeling that their relationship with Andrew was about to shift in ways they couldn’t yet understand.

 heeding Andrew’s warning ___ made a conscious effort to keep their feelings in check. But as they walked out of the classroom, a whirlwind of emotions flooded their mind, and it felt impossible to push him out of their thoughts. The way he smiled, the softness in his voice—it replayed in their mind like a favorite song stuck on repeat.

For the rest of the week, they tried to focus on their studies, but Andrew was a constant presence in their thoughts. During lectures, they found themselves daydreaming, stealing glances at him from the back of the room, memorizing the way he gestured as he explained complex theories. It was maddening how a simple conversation could leave such a lasting impact.

At night, as they lay in bed, ___ would scroll through their phone, searching for anything to distract them. Yet, every swipe of the screen brought back memories of their interactions. The way his eyes sparkled when he discussed literature, the warmth in his laughter—it was impossible to ignore the growing feelings that bubbled beneath the surface.

One evening, while flipping through old photos on their phone, ___ stumbled across a candid shot taken during a class project—a group of students huddled together, laughing, with Andrew standing off to the side, his expression full of pride. That moment encapsulated everything they admired about him—his passion for teaching, his ability to connect with students, and the subtle kindness that made them feel seen.

With a sigh, ___ tossed their phone onto the bed and buried their face in their hands. “Why can’t I just forget about him?” they whispered to themselves, feeling a mixture of frustration and longing. The more they tried to push their feelings aside, the stronger they grew. It was as if Andrew had woven himself into the very fabric of their thoughts, and they couldn’t unravel the connection they felt.

As graduation approached, the excitement of new beginnings mixed with the weight of their unresolved feelings. ___ knew that soon they would be moving on, yet the thought of leaving Andrew behind felt unbearable. It was a reality they had to face, but the hope of crossing paths again lingered in the back of their mind.

On the last day of class, ___ felt a bittersweet ache in their chest. They wanted to say something, to confess the feelings they had tried to suppress, but the memory of their earlier conversation held them back. Instead, they left a note on Andrew’s desk, thanking him for everything he had done for them.

As they walked away, they glanced back to see Andrew reading the note, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. In that moment, ___ felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end of their story after all.

Several weeks had passed ___ couldn’t shake the whispers of insecurity that crept into their mind. It seemed like every student in the department had a crush on Professor Marston, and hearing their admiring comments only fueled their anxiety. “He’s so handsome,” one would say, while another chimed in with, “He’s such a great teacher! I’d do anything to get his attention.” The thought of Andrew being interested in someone else made ___’s stomach churn.

They worried that Andrew would eventually see them as just another student, someone unworthy of his attention or affection. With these thoughts spiraling in their head, ___ sought solace in Luca, the TA. They had noticed Luca’s easy-going demeanor and thought that he’d have an understanding perspective of their situation and thought he might understand the complexities of student-teacher relationships better than most.

After class one day, ___ approached him, their heart pounding. “Hey, Mr Luca, Pearce? Sir? I don’t know, um.. do you have a minute?”

“Of course! What’s up?” Luca replied, glancing up from his laptop with a friendly smile.

___ hesitated, glancing around to ensure no one else was listening. “I wanted to talk about Professor Marston… and, well, my feelings for him.”

Luca raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Ah, I see. That can be a tricky situation.”

Taking a deep breath, ___ continued, “I just feel insecure. I hear other students talking about how attractive he is, and I can’t help but think… What if he doesn’t see me that way? What if he finds someone else more interesting?”

Luca leaned back in his chair, considering their words. “I get it. It’s easy to feel like you’re not enough when you’re competing with all those perceptions. But you have to remember that relationships are about more than looks. Andrew is a good guy, and I think he values character over superficiality.”

“Yeah, but what if it gets complicated?” ___ asked, their voice tinged with worry. “I don’t want to cause any backlash for either of us. It feels so wrong, even if it’s innocent.”

Luca nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a valid concern. I think waiting might be the best approach. Let things develop naturally. You’re not that far apart in age, and if there’s a genuine connection, it could work out over time. Just give it some space.”

“Space?” ___ echoed, feeling a mixture of relief and frustration. “It’s hard to think about that when all I want to do is be near him.”

“True, but rushing things could lead to misunderstandings and hurt feelings,” Luca replied. Luca looked around for a second thought then let it out “you wanna know what Andrew told me once,” he asked ___ didn’t say anything but give him a subtle blink “Andrew told me once you think of assignments as extensions of the writer you're one step closer to understanding them as a person” it seemed like something Andrew would say “it really struck me”. 

“Focus on building a friendship first. If it’s meant to be, time will help bring things to light.”

___ nodded slowly, taking in Luca’s advice. It made sense, even if it felt challenging. “Thanks, Luca. I really appreciate your insight. I guess I just needed someone to remind me to take a step back.”

“Anytime,” Luca said with a reassuring smile. “You’re not alone in this. And who knows? You might find that your connection with Andrew grows even stronger with a little patience.”

Feeling lighter, ___ left the conversation with renewed hope. They still had a long way to go, but at least now they had a plan to guide them through the uncertainty of their feelings.

Promising themselves that they would wait as long as it took, ___ decided to take Luca's advice to heart. They made a conscious effort to “sit down” and let time do its thing. In the following weeks, they poured themselves into their studies, immersing themselves in projects and assignments. The pressure of upcoming exams distracted them from the nagging thoughts of Andrew, and for a while, it felt like a relief.

As the days turned into weeks, ___ found solace in their work, each late night spent studying and each completed assignment bringing them a sense of accomplishment. Gradually, their feelings for Andrew began to fade, replaced by a focus on their academic goals. The nervous excitement that once filled their chest whenever he entered a room was replaced by a quiet admiration.

“Maybe this was for the best,” they thought, convincing themselves that their life didn’t have to revolve around their professor. They felt empowered by their independence, relishing the sense of control they had regained over their emotions. After all, graduation was just around the corner—next week, to be exact.

“Just like that?!” they whispered to themselves one night, staring at the calendar in disbelief. Time had flown by faster than they could have imagined. The realization that they would soon be leaving behind their college life—along with the complexities of their feelings for Andrew—was bittersweet.

As they packed their things and prepared for the final days of their university experience, ___ reflected on how much they had grown. They had learned to prioritize their own dreams and aspirations, finding joy in their accomplishments instead of lingering on what could have been.

On the day of their last class, ___ sat in their seats, scanning the familiar faces of their classmates, a mix of excitement and nostalgia swirling within them. Andrew stood at the front of the room, delivering a heartfelt farewell speech that made the weight of their feelings rush back momentarily. “You all have so much potential, and I can’t wait to see where life takes each of you,” he said, his voice resonating with genuine passion.

As the applause filled the room, ___ felt a familiar flutter in their chest, but this time it was accompanied by a sense of closure. They realized that while their feelings for Andrew had once been intense, they no longer defined them. They could appreciate him as a mentor without needing to pursue something more.

After class, as students began to filter out, ___ stayed behind, summoning the courage to approach Andrew one last time. “Thank you for everything, Professor Marston,” they said, their voice steady. “I’ve learned so much from you.”

Andrew turned to them, a warm smile gracing his face. “It’s been a pleasure having you in class. You have a bright future ahead, ___.”

“Thanks,” they replied, feeling a mixture of pride and sadness. “I’ll miss this place.”

“I will too,I’ll miss having you in here…you were truly…one of my favorites” Andrew said, brushing their bangs (if you don’t have them I’m so sorry) away from their eyes, the sincerity in his eyes making ___'s heart skip a beat. But they reminded themselves of their promise to wait and took a deep breath, grounding them

selves in the knowledge that this chapter was closing, and a new one awaited.

As they left the classroom for the last time, ___ felt a sense of peace. They had given their feelings time to breathe, and while they may have shifted, they had also found strength in themselves. Whatever came next, they were ready to embrace it

It had been four years since ___ graduated, and life had taken them in unexpected directions. As they lounged on their bed one evening, absentmindedly scrolling through old school photos, one image caught their eye: a snapshot taken with Andrew at graduation. In the photo, they were both beaming, Andrew’s smile wide and genuine, their own face flushed with a mix of pride and admiration. A sudden jolt of emotions surged through ___, flooding them with memories of their time in class together, the thrill of their connection, and the ache of what could have been.

“Could it work now?” they pondered, the question hanging in the air. It had been nearly five years since they promised themselves to sit back and let time do its thing, but what had really changed? Andrew was still a professor, and they were now navigating adulthood, still filled with uncertainty about relationships. The thought settled heavily in their mind. Of course not. Andrew probably doesn’t even remember me.

Over the last few years, ___’s romantic endeavors had been rocky at best. Each relationship had crumbled under the weight of unmet expectations and emotional turmoil, leaving them hesitant and guarded. Maybe it was time to take a risk. With a newfound determination, they downloaded a popular dating app that a friend had suggested, eager to explore new connections.

As they swiped through profiles, they encountered their fair share of catfishes and pictures of men holding fish—how cliché! After a while, their thumb paused, eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before them. There, staring back at them, was Professor Marston. He’s on here?! The realization sent a rush of excitement and apprehension coursing through them. They glanced around their bedroom, as if expecting someone to pop out and catch them in the act and judge them on their delusions.

Without overthinking, ___ swiped right on his profile, their heart pounding in anticipation. Moments later, a notification lit up the screen: You’ve matched with Andrew Marston. A surge of adrenaline shot through them, mingled with a wave of nervousness.

“What do I do now?” they muttered, staring at the screen as if it held all the answers. Their mind raced with possibilities: Should they send a flirty message, or play it cool? Would Andrew even want to reconnect after all this time?

Taking a deep breath, they decided to keep it simple. Hey, it’s been a while! How have you been? They hit send and immediately regretted it, anxiety creeping in as they wondered how Andrew would react.

Time seemed to stretch as they waited for a reply, their heart racing with anticipation. Would he remember them? Did he even want to engage in a conversation after all this time?

Just as doubt began to creep in, their phone buzzed with a notification. Hello Wow, this is a surprise! I’d never thought I’d see you on here, I’m doing well, how about you?

A wave of relief washed over ___, followed by a flutter of excitement. They were talking to Andrew again. Could this be the start of something new?

As they exchanged messages, ___ felt the familiar spark igniting within them—a reminder of the connection they once shared, tempered now by years of growth and maturity. They were ready to embrace whatever came next, even if it was uncertain. Perhaps this time, they could explore what had once been left unspoken and let time lead them forward

After several days filled with texting, laughter, and heartfelt reconnections, Andrew brought up the idea of meeting at the café a couple of blocks down from the university. The thought sent a thrill of excitement through ___, who quickly accepted, eager to see him in person again. As the days counted down to their “date,” ___ found themselves in a whirlwind of anticipation, wondering what they should wear. Should they go casual or dress up a bit? After much deliberation, they settled on a comfortable yet stylish outfit, a light sweater that highlighted their figure and dark jeans that felt just right for the occasion.

Finally, the day arrived. ___ walked down the street toward the café, their heart racing with every step. But as they approached the entrance, a pang of disappointment hit them—Andrew wasn’t there yet. Were they early? Late? A flurry of visions clouded their mind, filled with anxious thoughts. What if he changed his mind?

Five minutes felt like an eternity as they stood there, glancing around the bustling street. Just when doubt began to creep in, Andrew appeared, slightly out of breath and a touch disheveled, as if he had rushed over. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” he exclaimed, a sincere smile breaking across his face. “I got caught up with a meeting that ran over.”

“It’s okay! I just got here, too,” ___ replied, their nervousness dissipating as they saw his warm smile. “I thought I might have missed you.”

As they walked inside together, the rich aroma of coffee filled the air. Once they ordered their drinks, they settled into a cozy corner table, the atmosphere warm and inviting. The soft chatter of other patrons created a comforting background hum.

“So, how have you been?” Andrew asked, leaning forward, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Busy with work, but good overall,” ___ replied, feeling the tension ease as they settled into conversation. “I’ve been thinking about those long nights studying for finals. It feels like just yesterday.”

Andrew chuckled, shaking his head. “I remember you always being the last one to leave the library. You put in a lot of effort.”

“Guilty as charged!” ___ laughed. “But I have to admit, some of those late nights were less about studying and more about hoping to catch a glimpse of you.”

A blush crept up Andrew’s cheeks as he met their gaze. “I had no idea. I always thought you were just really dedicated to your studies.”

“I was dedicated, but I was also a little... infatuated,” ___ admitted, their heart racing.

Andrew’s expression softened, and he leaned in closer. “I’m glad you said that. I felt a connection between us, too, but I didn’t know how to approach it back then.”

Their drinks arrived, steaming mugs placed in front of them. As they chatted about old memories, exchanged phone numbers, and shared laughter over silly college anecdotes, the chemistry between them became undeniable.

Then, as the conversation turned more intimate, Andrew leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know, I’ve thought about that day at graduation a lot.”

___’s heart raced. “Really? I have too. I was so nervous when we took that photo together.”

Andrew smiled, his gaze unwavering. “I was too. I just didn’t know what to say. I wish I had told you how much I admired you back then.”

With that shared moment hanging in the air, Andrew’s eyes flickered to ___’s lips, an electric charge pulsing between them. Suddenly, he leaned in closer, closing the distance as his lips brushed against theirs. It was a soft, tentative kiss that quickly blossomed into something more passionate. It was everything ___ had been waiting for, for what felt like years—a culmination of unspoken feelings and missed opportunities.

Nothing could ruin this moment for them; it felt so incredibly magical. The world around them faded as they lost themselves in each other, the café bustling with life yet feeling like a private haven just for them. As they pulled away, breathless and smiling, ___ could hardly contain their joy.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the day I met you,” Andrew confessed, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“Me too,” ___ replied, a giddy smile spreading across their face. “I thought I was being ridiculous, but now… it feels right.”

Andrew chuckled softly, “I think we both might be a little ridiculous. But in the best way.”

As they continued to talk, the conversation flowed seamlessly, filled with laughter and lingering glances. Each moment felt like a promise of something beautiful beginning. In that instant, all the doubts and insecurities melted away, replaced by the warmth of newfound affection.

“I can’t believe we waited this long,” Andrew said, his tone thoughtful. “But maybe it was worth it. We’ve both grown so much.”

___ nodded, feeling a sense of hope swell within them. “It really does feel like the right time now.”

They both knew this was just the start of a new chapter—one where they could explore their feelings without fear. They were no longer just a student and a professor; they were two souls connecting in a way that felt right. And as they sat across from each other, the future felt wide open, filled with possibilities