#to even think about writing these last few months

[cupcakeinat0r]

Your loser, Middle-aged Genetics professor with a dadbod <3

pt. 7

A/n: Hey y’all! Just a quick apology for such a long wait for an update, just came back from a relaxing vacay!! But as soon as I got off the plane back home, I started writing cuz the creative juices were juicinggg <3 Anyways, enjoy <333 Hopefully this serves as a good apology ;)

4 exams down, 3 more to go. The finish line of the semester was so close yet so far. Not gonna lie, your sanity was hanging on by a rope, your strongest and only support system being one person. He was the most sweetest, smartest, and respectful person you have ever had the blessing of meeting. It may not have been in the most conventional (or convenient) of ways, but still, it couldn’t have felt more like the storybook that you wanted and dreamed your life would be. Amidst your academic tribulations, he made you feel like royalty.

Even now, as you wait in the library and your phone goes off with a notification from Miguel, whom you had referred to as ‘Professor O’Hara’ only just a few months ago, you are still in dreamland with the fact that you were—

Well, at this point, you two haven’t quite fleshed out the label of y’all’s relationship just yet, but for now, you tell yourself that you two are talking. So yes, even now, you truly can’t believe that you are talking with your adorable professor.

You mentally take note that this will be a conversation that you two will have to have in the near future.

Your attention is now on your phone, reading a message under the contact name ‘Mig 🤓’.

“We ended earlier than planned. Headed over there now❤️”

You smile at the message, already typing a response up.

The night he told you about his late daughter was almost a week ago, and since then, y’all have set aside a day to go to the public library. You both agreed that it was nice, quality time, and wanted to do something like that again; just talking, being with each other, and forget about school for a while. Plus, exams have sort of kept yall apart for the past week, so it was very much needed.

Now you wait at the library where you and Miguel agreed to meet at after he finishes a recitation he had to substitute for.

‘ “Ended earlier than planned” ??? You’re not slick, DID YOU END CLASS EARLIER TO COME HERE???’

‘No, of course not, I would never do that.’

…

‘But maybe.’

‘Uhuh... See you soon <3’

‘See you soon, mamita ❤️😘.’

With a content hum, you put down your phone and turn your face toward the quiet buzz of people reading, chatting over coffee, and studying. Even though it's been months since knowing Miguel, you still feel jitters when about to see him. You can't help it. Everything about him makes you nervous in the best possible way. From how his smile lines crease, how that one little curl falls on his face, how he always speaks to you with a slight pout, the way his sweater vests hug around his full chest and soft tummy, all the way to how he looks at you like you’re his muse. You couldn't stop smiling just thinking about him. And to think, everyone in class just thought he was a total killjoy; backs straighten and all conversations cease when he enters the room. If only they knew the real him, but a part of you is glad you're the only one to see it.

Just a couple of blocks down, Miguel is gathering his things, excited to meet up with you. As he sharply nods to the last few students leaving the room, wishing them a good Summer break and luck on their finals, his expression becomes soft as he thinks of you. Quickly, once he has the room to himself, he takes a minute to put on one or two sprays of his best cologne, fix his hair, and remove his tie. He knew how much you liked it when he wore his button-ups like this; a few left unopened at the top. He felt ridiculous, but you always commented on it, and it would make Miguel feel good.

That was another thing; since seeing you, Miguel's confidence has so much improved. He did, however, take a glance over at his cardigan that hung on the back of his swivel chair and contemplated wearing it. It used to be his safety net; an effort to try and hide his soft figure, but that was old Miguel. New Miguel wanted to impress you and, even though he’d never admit it, would try to get the most compliments out of you. Despite feeling like he let himself go, you made him feel like he was a total knock-out, which never failed to make his cheeks grow darker, and he plans to return the favor for however long you’ll have him.

Miguel arrives, scanning the enormous room for you, a bright, colorful speck among the sea of dark-colored apparel. You wore an outfit he had bought you during the semester. He’s indifferent when looking for you, but when he spots you, his lips curled just slightly, the crows feet of his face creasing. He glides across the room, but any faster, he’d be running. He tries to act collected, but you both know he’s ecstatic to see you.

"Hey mama," He stands before you, holding out your hands as if to exhibit an art piece, "You look beautiful today, as always”. His eyes graze over every single inch of you, up and down. There’s something sexy about seeing you in something he bought you, even if it wasn’t all that exposing. You go in for a hug, acting as if you haven’t seen him in weeks (You both see each other in the hallways like every day, y'all just haven't been able to be with each other in a minute).

You smile against his broad chest, "Thanks, cutie, and you look handsome, as per usual.” You give his thick torso a soft run down with your hands. Miguel looks around bashfully, even though no one is paying attention. Physical touch came easy for him when you two were alone, but in public? That’s another story.

You look up to see his wandering eyes fall back on you. “I’ve missed you,” you shift all your weight onto him, holding onto his waist like a koala bear on a tree. You get on your tip toes to reach his cheek, pressing a kiss there, “mwah! so much.” The simple gesture was enough to turn Miguel into a mess. It takes everything in him not to completely smother you out in the open, but would rather save that for when there’s privacy.

Miguel holds you as if you were a porcelain doll. Something rose in his chest, call it pride; Proud to show off the gorgeous woman in his arms. "I missed you more." He says softly.

"So? How was the class?" you hold onto his hand while looking for a place to live in for the afternoon.

Miguel looks as well and spots a vacant, quiet little corner of the library, one that sits almost separate from the rest of the crowd. He gives your hand a small tug, motioning for it. "It was actually quite nice. The students were pretty engaged for it being an 8AM... I dunno, I might pick it up next semester." He sets his bag down before grabbing you a chair for you to sit on, as well as a cushion for you to lay your back on. He grabs a stool for himself once he sees you're comfortable and sat.

You give his forearm a caress, a small act of encouragement, "Well, I think you should. You're so good at what you do. Trust me, I should know." you give him a smirk, making him crack a smile.

"Which reminds me, you feel good for tomorrow? 'cuz if you're needing review for anything, we could go over it right now-" You place a hand on his arm, "Mig! I'm fine! I feel completely fine. Besides, I've tutored over a dozen people, I pretty much know the material like the back of my hand. Please, relax, you need it."

Miguel sits back now, "But if you change your mind, you'll let me know, right?" You nod, and Miguel relaxes at last. He sees the book you pull out and reads the spine of it. Wuthering Heights. It’s one of Miguel’s personal faves. He looks forward to seeing your small reactions once you get toward the end. It was endearing the way you reacted to what you read, let it be a faint widening of your eyes or a small gasp. He also loved watching your concentrated face. He thinks back to all those lectures he spent watching you take your color-coordinated notes in his class, your glossed lips pursed and your eyebrows faintly knitted. It never went unnoticed by him. Adorable.

You do a double-take at Miguel's choice of book, not believing what you read the first time. "Jane Austen?" "…Yes?" "You like Jane Austen?" "Yes. " Miguel says this so matter-of-factly, it leaves you kind of in shock. It was a cute surprise. Smiling, you let a puff of air out your nose, shaking your head as you open your book. “What’s so funny?” Miguel smiles, wanting know what you’re thinking now.

“Ugh, I-“, You almost let a certain 3-word phrase slip from your lips, but you stop yourself. “ I… just wasn’t expecting that, is all. Have you read ‘pride and prejudice’?”

“Yeah, loved it. It’s why I’m reading this one.” He looks down at the cover, which, in intricate letters, reads sense and sensibility. Your smile is even wider now that you know the man of your dreams is a fellow Jane Austen fan. “Me, too. Let me know what you think, then.” You softly say, starting on your book. “Of course. By the way, anyone ever taught you not to judge a book by its cover?” You roll your eyes and nudge him, making him chuckle in his throat. Although Miguel’s humor wasn’t exactly the most original, his sass takes the cake, and you love it. Feeling romantic, Miguel leans over and kisses your cheek once, twice, then gently brings your lips to his by your chin to plant a third kiss.

After finally quenching his need for your kisses, he settles in his spot and reaches for your hand, which you grab instinctively. Like always, his thumb caresses across your knuckles, and you both fall into a peaceful silence, transporting to your individual worlds within your books.

<3

The time in the library is nothing short of peaceful and fun. The first while of reading, Miguel would get up to use the restroom, but on his way back, he would’ve gotten you a cup of coffee for you and himself. A little later, you’d get up as well, but not for the restroom, but to grab him a treat, as well as for yourself. His eyes widen in pleasant surprise when he sees you walk back with them in your hands. He always did have a sweet tooth.

For the rest of the time, you’ll reach over occasionally to push his glasses back up his nose, or sometimes, without looking up from his book, he’ll simply pull your hand up to his lips, and press a butterfly kiss there, the faint smack of the peck making your heart skip a beat. And he doesn’t just do it once, he has to do this every so often because he just can’t resist; the man needs to feel you like as if you’ll disappear out of nowhere.

And you don’t notice, but every now and then, Miguel looks over at you, just admiring. He watches how your eyes inch deeper into the pages as you soak in the language. He can stay like this forever. Reading books with you while you hold hands. For a second, he feels the bottom of his stomach drop because he knows the day will have to end, and he’ll have to go back to class tomorrow, as do you. Sure, you’ll both be in the classroom, but you’ll have to pretend. Miguel was growing tired of the game. He then thinks about how near Summer is, and if he’ll see you then. Not as your professor, but as someone who deeply cares about you.

He’s already making plans on the possible trips you two could make. Maybe spend two weeks in Italy, or maybe just simple weekend roadtrips to nearby, quaint towns. He’s thinking about taking you to only the nicest, fanciest places in Nueva York.

Guiltily, his mind wanders into trips to the bedroom. How he’d love to take care of you and make sure you felt loved. Above all, your pleasure would be his. Oh, how he’d worship you like the goddess you were because dammit, you are one, and to this day, he’s still unsure how he scored you. How he, the intimidating, quiet giant, won an ethereal princess like you. He sort of smiled to himself as he realized:

Gabriella’s favorite bedtime story was becoming his life right before his eyes.

And like many times before, Miguel’s mind wanders even more. He’s thinking of the wedding, the honeymoon and the endless amount of rounds, the baby shower… having a kid with you. He’s fully aware of how crazy it is to think about it so soon, but at the same time, it feels so right. With you, it does.

Your caring, attentive nature, sweetness, cleverness, patience, and drive, they were all qualities of someone he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life with. Your desire to better yourself and hunger for knowledge is evident in your work for your masters. Your softness that had so remarkably torn down his walls. And of course, there was your unmistakable beauty, but that’s just a bonus!

As he continues to watch you read, your hand lovingly locked with his, he realizes his feelings are no longer casual, no. Miguel’s breath hitches when a realization dawns on him. Rather than a ton of bricks, it feels like a weight lifted off his stiffened shoulders.

He looks at you, and he feels what could only be described as true, total, and complete love.

“‘Scuse me, sir.” Miguel snaps toward the low voice, “Library’s closing in 10 minutes.”

These hushed words sweep your attention from the book in your hands, your face falling in small dismay. You both look at each other, Miguel giving you a shrug that conveys ‘it is what it is’.

“Aw man, I got so caught up in reading, I feel like we didn’t get to talk as much as I wanted to.” Miguel is gathering both of yalls things, leaving your hand for last. You grab his, and you both begin to head out, the swarm of people that was here before gone. “We can still talk if you’d like. We can go to my office?” You nod gingerly.

“Then c’mon, let’s go.” Without asking, he grabs your bag from you and slings his and yours onto his shoulder, and you both leave hand in hand.

<3

After braving the storm that seemed to come out of nowhere outside, Miguel lets you into his office first, closing the door behind you two. The campus was dimly lit, only housing a few students who were doing some late-night studying. Hopefully, no one saw you two shuffling toward his classroom.

You look around his office, and for the first time, if feels new. It’s somewhat dark, the storm outside supplying the only light in the room. You’ve been in here countless of times, helping Miguel out with class work or tutoring, so it shouldn’t feel any different, yet, it does. Maybe it’s because every time you’re in here, you’ve never got the chance to really look at it. You’re always in and out. And if y’all weren’t in here, you were sitting in the lecture hall just outside the office door. Now that the fluorescent lights are off, you realize just how clinical they made it feel in here.

Miguel observes how you look along his walls where a multitude of diplomas hang. He thinks about saying something, but doesn’t want to interrupt; instead, he allows you to examine his space, finding it charming. It’s like he’s letting you in on his life. He pretends to busy himself with something else, leaving you to explore. Which is fine, really. You two have fallen into many comfortable silences before.

Then you move onto his shelf, filled with nothing but books and maybe one picture frame, but you’re not sure. It’s laid flat on the shelf. You go away from it for a second, going back to the spines, reading them off in your head. Some DNA encyclopedias, anatomy studies, Genetic Theory… ah, here we go. Leroux, Fitzgerald, Verne… is that Shelley? Atwood? Woolf? Plath?! Then, of course, there’s Beauty and The Beast. You pause there for a second, remembering Miguel’s most cherished memories that are tied to this story. Some more Jane Austen… oh, and look, Wuthering Heights!

“You’re more than welcome to take any of those. What’s mine is yours.” He sits on the couch that sits along the wall of his office, laying back with his arm laid across the frame of it. You pull out Wuthering Heights and walk towards him, “What’d you think of this one?” You go to take a seat next to him, nuzzling against his side, your head at its assigned spot on his shoulder. “Nice try, sweetie, but don’t wanna spoil it. Though I will say, it’s really good.” his face brightens along with yours, “I think you’ll like it. Brace yourself for the ending, though.” His arm wraps around you now, his thumb making small circles on your shoulder like he usually does.

“How about Miss Austen?” You put the book on a small table beside the couch. Miguel thinks about it for a second. “She’s got this sort of sarcastic wit that I can really get behind. But in all seriousness, her social commentary is brilliant. Still applies to this day, in some ways. And her style, wow…” You can see Miguel get lost in his thoughts, his emotions having their rare time in the limelight as he proceeds to list off Jane Austen’s wonderful writing attributes. It felt so good to see him like this. To be able to get him talking like this was a big win in your book.

“…Just overall, I’m a total fan now.” He nods, looking over at your dazzling eyes. “No, no, keep going.” You urge him, overcome with adoration. Miguel smiles at the floor, shaking his head. “I can listen to you talk allll day, honestly.” He looks off into the office still smiling bashfully, away from your revering gaze. “D’aw, don’t be so shy, I love listening to your voice. It’s so soothing, Mig.”

“You’re… stealing my lines.” A chuckle rumbles in his chest while you taunt him with a giggle of your own. In an effort to quiet you and from flustering him further, he envelopes you with his arms, you reaching for his neck simultaneously, and you both meet in the middle with a kiss so sweet, it could develop diabetes. With your lips locked, he grabs your thigh and swings it over his hips, his soft stomach taut against yours. You both smile against each other’s lips, soft laughs in tune with the rain that hits against walls outside.

Sooner than later, Miguel’s small chuckles turn into soft groans, his breath becoming labored. His hands venture up under your top, fingers ghosting the skin above the waistband of your skirt. You taste of… cherry lip gloss. His favorite taste, and in the past couple of weeks, he’s grown addicted to it. As a matter of fact, he’s become so addicted that he tends to bite and pull at your bottom lip, a gesture that never failed to leave you weak in the knees.

The hungry tug of your lip evoked a small whine from your throat, unleashing something in Miguel. Carefully, he laid you on the couch, your bodies entangling in languid unison with your tongues. The feeling of all of Miguel’s weight on you set a flame off within you, his length pressing along your dampened heat each time he dug his hips. You wanted it, and bad. Needed it like your life depended on it, but your conscious was screaming at the back of your mind, and you couldn’t ignore it.

“M-mig, w-wait.” You manage to breathe out, the heart between your legs unable to agree with the brain in your head. You hated stopping where things were headed, but you had reason.

Miguel’s head shot up from your neck where it was planting hickies on. “Are you okay? You wanna stop?” He’s already sitting up, removing himself from your legs, “Mama, I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked, want me to take you home? If you want to, I can take you-“ Miguel was so worried, he’d rather die than you feel taken advantage of. “Miguel! It’s okay, I’m fine!” You reassure him softly, sitting up as well to keep him seated. “Trust me, I wanted this, too. It’s not you at all. I just…” you grab his hand, thinking of your next words. Your shoulders droop from what you’re about to say. Miguel looks at you with a soft expression, ready to be here for you in any way.

“Look, we both know we shouldn’t even be here, and not just in this office, I mean being together period. And what worries me the most is not even the fact that we could get caught, but the possibility that maybe you’ll…” Miguel motions for eye contact when he sees you retreating to the floor. “Mamita, tell me, please. Dime que quieres. Nothing you say can upset me or change the way I think of you. Nothing.”

“I just don’t want you to think that I’m only in this for the wrong reasons.” Miguel’s brows furrow in confusion. How could he possibly think you’re using him? “Sweetie, why would I…” And it clicked just as fast as he began speaking. Miguel seemed to be going deep into thought. You were scared that maybe you had said something wrong.

“Miguel, please understand that I care about you so so so much, and because I do, I don’t want us to be intimate with each other until the school year is completely over.” You’d thought things through since becoming romantic with Miguel, and the thought that If y’all had sex, there would’ve been the risks of people finding out, you losing your eligibility for a degree that you were three exams away from obtaining, or worse, Miguel losing his job as professor and probably being blacklisted for the rest of his life. A very small part of it was also that you didn’t want your score on his exam to be affected in any which way. If you happen to not do well on the exam, you wanted the grade you deserved. There was simply too many downsides.

He looks back up at you, not a trace of judgment nor anger on his face. “Mama, you don’t have to explain yourself. The ball is in your field. Whatever you want or need, I’m right there with you. Don’t ever feel bad for what you want, okay?” Your lips curl in relief, and you nod slowly. He brings his hand to your face, allowing you to lean into his touch. “And to be honest, I couldn’t agree more. But even after classes end, even then our speed is still up to you. I’m not ready to take things further until you are.”

How lucky am I to have someone like him? I’m not entirely sure who’s up there or who to thank exactly, but oh my goodness, thank you for giving me this perfect man sitting before me.

“You mean it? I mean, you’re not disappointed or anything?” Miguel shakes his head. “Not even for a second.” Filled with joy, and almost knocking him over, you embrace him.

“We could just stay in here and chat. Would you like that?” He speaks softly against your hair. “I would love that.”

<3

Miguel and you lay on the couch (which fits you just fine, but Miguel’s feet were borderline hanging off the end), Miguel the big spoon, and you the little one. Your head lays against the decorative pillow while he props his on his hand.

You nestled against his frame, feeling the steady rise and fall of his tummy against your back. His arm encircled your waist, holding you securely against him as you melted into each other's warmth. "Are you comfortable?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern. "Mhm, more than comfortable," you replied with a contented sigh."You make a pretty good body heater," you teased. He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "Glad I could be of service, Princesa.” He plants a sustained kiss to your temple.

Your gaze falls softly on the wall across from you, your eyes traveling along the diplomas, “Did you always wanted to be a teacher?”

“Well, when I was little, I did. I loved science and there was this one teacher I had… she was the best. Wanted to be just like her. But…” Miguel breathes out. You can feel his stomach tense up against your back, prompting you to turn your head towards him. “Y’know… um… I didn’t always teach.”

Miguel would go on to tell you how the past five years has looked for him. He began with a rather heavy start; a freak accident in his work as a geneticist, a job much more lucrative than a professor. He’d then recount his days as a hero, proceeding to show you his long-retired claws. You listened intently, with an open mind, following along to his story of how he got involved with the multiverse, and what that term entails. He explained how the world was connected to other worlds; a prodigious tree of universes. It was how he lost his daughter. He revealed the tragic story to you finally, after withholding it that first night he told you about her in the school library. He recollected a few more memories that would eventually lead to his decision to hang up his hat as Spider-Man, finding refuge in becoming a science professor; an old dream he had abandoned so many years ago.

“And since then, I’ve been… okay. Better than before, for sure. I’m satisfied here, truly.” You sat there, processing everything he had shared with you. “I know that was a lot, you don’t have to say anything. I’m just glad that I could share this with you.” You nod, trying to think of what to say because silence just wouldn’t suffice, not for you. “I…” you began, your voice low and soft, “But are you happy?”

Miguel is taken aback by the question. Even after everything he’s said…the man just got done telling you he has fangs and red irises and that he traveled across dimensions for a living, and this is your first question? If he’s happy? He told you a story that could possibly have the fbi sent to his door with just one call, but you’re more interested in his wellbeing? He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe you.

Miguel lets out a sharp breath; a chuckle, as his eyes narrow at you. “You’re unreal, you know that?” Your lips reflect his small smile, “What?! I wanna know, after everything… are you happy?” You repeat the question with utmost genuineness in your tone.

With the answer as obvious to him as the formulas he taught in his class, Miguel simply leans in, hand on the back of your head, and kisses you, then pulling back by just an inch, he speaks softly,

“Now that you’re here, I am.”

A/n: I hope y’all enjoyed it <3 Shoutout to @pomakori for sending this photo in, I absolutely loved it and had to include it in this chapter cuz it’s so them coded !!!

(Like ❓❓ this is so them‼️ n u can’t change my mind‼️)

Thank you so much for reading <3 I’m a lil worried about how long it might be, so sorry if I yapped too much on this one 🫶 I just love n care abt him sm, ur honor🥹

Want some more Dadbod!Miguel? Here’s my master list, bae!

Tags<3

@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi i @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @hyjionie @maomaimao @pinkhelados @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @safixiovi

@hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @cl3stevu

@mintssanctuary @ghost-lantern @snails-doodles22 @tinythebunni

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #atsv #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x you #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #dadbod!miguel #professor!miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel x y/n #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel spiderman #spider man 2099 #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara smut

[enhaheeseung]

BREAK UP - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: crying, break up, angst, cursing, heartbreak, arguments.

Word count: 2,072k

Note: I'm just writing a few drabbles for now, hoping to get my engagement up a bit. This is really rushed, so it’s not good, but oh well.

-

“Babe, when are you coming to bed?”

It’s twelve am, and you have been waiting hours past your bedtime so you can finally go to sleep with your boyfriend for the first time in literal months.

It’s been a while since he started working from home, and you thought that would free up some space for you both to spend time together.

You thought you guys could go back to normal like how you used to be but now it seemed like he worked even more after being able to work from home on top of his promotion.

You received no answer, and you sighed. This had been going on for months, him ignoring you and solely focusing on work. You disappointedly slipped under the covers so you could patiently wait for him to be finished.

Staring at the clock, you counted down every minute until a full thirty minutes passed.

You decided to give it another go thinking half hour may have been enough time for him to conclude his work. “Honey, it’s so late,” your voice is groggy, eyes half opened, and you’re still worried about your boyfriend’s well-being. How could you not be when he barely ate and barely slept anymore? The last time you two spent quality time together was so long ago you couldn’t even remember. “Please come to bed. I know you’re tired.”

He snaps at your words, only increasing the annoyance that he currently feels. “Can you just stop talking, damn?!” He agitatedly shouts out of nowhere, turning his head in your direction with an angry expression plastered on his tired features.

Startled by the sudden loudness of his tone you jumped a little bit not used to him speaking to you that way. “S-sorry I was just worried” you tucked back under the covers your heart aching in your chest cause of what he said to you.

He was always on edge lately, but you never received that type of treatment from him. Ever even in your five years of dating, he has always been respectful to you.

“You’re sorry?” he scoffs. “You should be sorry I’m the one working hard every day to provide for you and all the frivolous bullshit you buy, and this is the thanks I get. Do me a favor and stop fucking bothering me while I’m working,” he rubs his temples, turning his attention back to his computer.

It most certainly wasn’t the first time he’d said such harsh words to you after your constant nagging for him to eat and sleep more, but this was the first time you felt pure anger from him, and it worried you cause he was never this bad before and you feared that as time went on like this it would just get worse.

“O-okay.” You looked at his stressed back, noticing how tense his shoulders were, and you felt bad knowing he was taking on all of the work to provide for you both. Apparently, all you were doing was bothering him, but you weren’t doing it intentionally. “I guess it’s a crime to care about my boyfriend.” Your voice broke a little, and you turned your back to him, calling it quits for the night. He could come to bed whenever he wanted.

“You know what?” He shuts the computer and sighs. “I think.” he pauses for a moment, the silence getting the best of your nerves cause you were scared about what he was going to say. “We should just break up.”

His words dangle in the air for minutes, and within those minutes, you feel tears pricking your eyes and your heart breaking into little tiny bits. “Hee-“ you sat up now, looking at him with your bloodshot eyes.

“I know you’re going to run down every reason why we shouldn’t, but I’m done. I’m tired of this, and I’m tired of talking. I can’t do it anymore, and nothing you say can ever change my mind.”

You’re left absolutely speechless too stunned to even say anything not to say he would want to hear it or listen now anyway.

You’ve spent so many long years of your life with him that you couldn’t see yourself being with anyone else besides him you thought that he was your happy ever after and to hear him say he wants to break up felt like a dream a very bad dream never in your life did you ever think he’d say the words but he did and it came out so easily like he’s been wanting to say it but only now decided to.

And the thought made you upset because if he’s been feeling this way for this long why did he even bother to string you along knowing he didn’t see a future with you anymore after your guys relationship went downhill?

In the midst of your thoughts his voice brings you back to the present. “I’ll call your mom in the morning so you can get all your stuff and be out by tomorrow.” You don’t respond, and the only thing you hear for the next few hours is typing on a keyboard.

You would go to the sofa, but you’re literally glued to the bed, paralyzed by grief.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and they definitely didn’t stop once he came to bed. If anything, they got worse when you felt his warmth so close to you but yet so far away.

He tried slipping his hand around your waist, but you slapped it away. “Don’t touch me,” you say through your heartbroken cries.

He immediately retracted his hand, a little surprised at first by how quickly you rejected his touch.

He didn’t care really he just thought it might comfort you a little so you could sleep since you’ve been up crying for literally hours but it didn’t matter one way or the other to him as he turned on his side and shut his lamp off.

Heeseung slept soundly while you lay awake, crying every last tear you had left in you.

-

When morning struck, heeseungs alarm woke him up. His eyes shot open, and he quickly grabbed his phone, turning the awful sound off.

He turned towards your side of the bed and patted the soft material in search of your warmth, but he found none.

His eyes opened, and he was met with a few luggage bags that looked to be packed already. He sat up confused for a moment until memories of last night flooded his mind.

He heard a rustle coming from the closet, and you appeared a second later, already fully dressed this early in the morning. Usually, you would still be asleep when he started work.

But obviously, today was different.

His eyes shifted throughout the room. Most of your stuff was already gone.

As you walked to each end of the room collecting your stuff, his eyes followed you, watching your every movement.

The moment he saw you grabbing all your ornaments, he felt an ache in his chest.

You didn’t have much in the bedroom, but those little ornaments had you written all over them, and it was one of the few things that made it obvious to him that he wasn’t living alone, and seeing them all getting wiped out made him feel sick to his stomach. “Y/n?” He mumbled out while nervously picking at his nails.

You didn’t answer. Of course, you didn’t. He said he was done talking, and so were you. Last night, you came to terms with this. It took hours, but you just accepted it.

You had to.

Were you going to miss him?

Yes.

Was it going to hurt?

Yes.

But you didn’t want to be in his life if he didn’t want you to be in his.

You continued to pick up the little porcelain cat decorations, and that’s when he decided to slip out from under the covers and walk over to you, standing behind you and taking the figurine from your hand, setting it back down where it had been sitting for the last couple of years. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in your ear while back hugging you, the warmth of his bare chest sending electricity throughout your body. “About last night, sweetheart, I was just tired and said a lot of things I didn’t mean, and I know that it sounds like a shitty excuse, but I really didn’t mean it, baby. I’ve just been so stressed lately, and I hate myself for taking it out on you. I’m so sorry I made you cry.” he closed his eyes, inhaling your scent, the one he’d been missing for months.

You hated yourself for the way you melted into his arms after all the things he said to you last night, but it’s just been so long since you felt his touch on you that you couldn’t help it.

You leaned into him, his body pressing flush against yours. It felt so good being in his strong arms again.

But as fast as you melted, you hardened up even quicker, slipping out of his grasp.

You started packing up your things again, keeping a good distance from him because right now you know you could easily forgive him, but you didn’t want to because there’s no way he could say what he said to you last night and change up so quickly in the morning you weren’t falling for it.

When you walked by him, he quickly extended his hand, grabbing you by your elbow, pulling you into his chest, and hugging you closely. “Little one, please forgive me.” he rested his chin atop your head, stroking your back softly. “I need you. Love, without you, I don’t have anything, you know that. Remember, I’ve told you so many times everything I do is all for you. I know I made a mistake, but I’m sorry. Please forgive me, please?” His voice shook slightly, and you could feel just how fast his heart was beating against your chest and the words were on the tip of your tongue, but for the way you feel right now, you think breaking up would just be for the best.

You two were living different lives, and the compatibility wasn’t aligned anymore. As much as you hated living a life without him, the thought of living a life where he was working and you were being neglected was something you hated even more.

Your breath got caught in your throat the moment his lips pressed against your neck. “Please,” he begged in between each soft kiss he left on your neck. “Say something, please,” he sniffles softly and rests his palms over your stomach.

You peeled his hand off your body, turning around to tell him that you were done straight to his face, but it was so hard cause he looked absolutely distraught. “Heeseung, I’m leaving, and that’s final.”

The sob he let out almost made you break down in tears yourself. He tried to cover it by cupping his mouth, but it was too late. It was one of the most heartbreaking things you’ve ever heard from him, and you had to leave now before you ended up forgiving him.

You quickly grabbed your things, wheeling them to the front door with him close behind you. “I can’t let you go, y/n. I-I love you.” his arms were secured around you again, and you stood there, trying to remain as emotionless as possible until he finally let go of you. “So that’s just it? What am I supposed to do without you, baby?” He asked warm tears running down his cheeks he looked so sad and vulnerable.

“You said you were tired of talking, and at this point, so am I. Goodbye, heeseung. I hope work treats you better than I ever could.” You unlocked the front door and opened it.

“Y/n-“

“Enough!” You shouted at him, losing your patience finally and letting all your months of pent-up anger get the best of you.

He stood there completely stunned by you raising your voice at him, and it left him speechless.

Even though his mouth was parted like he wanted to say something, the words just never made their way out.

The last thing you saw before slamming the door was his sad, tearful expression, but this was what he asked for, and he got it.

-

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

#enhypen heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #enha heeseung #engene #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen heeseung smut

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— What if I'm not good enough, anymore?

pairings: beth mead x reader, vivianne miedema x reader

summary: reader has self doubts that she won't be as good as she was when she makes her return to the pitch.

Warnings: heavy angst, talks of mental health and a minor eating disorder.

Okay, I won't lie. This was, well this was hard to write and there was a lot of tears throughout because its' a little too close to home right now with things going on, but you guys wanted it, so here we go.

Let me know what you think!

"What if I'm not good enough now?" The thoughts spiral through your brain.

It's your number one fear. It's the thing that keeps you up at night, lying awake with those thoughts plaguing your mnd.

You know you shouldn't be thinking about things like that, but your mentality of your injury was overshadowing the physical rehab your still yet to get the greenlight for yet.

Would you be good as you were when you come back?

Sure you've watched each of the girls come back from their injury and make a return to the pitch, some of them a bit more rockier than usual, but now they're striving and you can only hope that your own journey will be as smooth sailing.

Your impatient though, both incredibly and insufferably impatient.

It's a downfall that has come back to bite you in the ass, one too many times previously.

Could you blame your dad for that though?

Growing up, hes' only ever pushed you. Pushed you to push through the pain; Your dad was an impatient man himself, one with a temper and he didn't believe that letting you rest was the best thing sometimes.

The first few months of your recovery after your surgery felt long, all you felt was agitation and more so frustration not being allowed to do things that you once took for granted.

You really did hate depending on those around you, you felt like a constant burden despite that fact that all the girls kept on reassuring you that you weren't, but in the back of your mind, you always thought different about it.

The one thing you never realised would be as hard would be the mentality of it all, the physical pain was tiresome and therefor, your mental health was taking a battering rapadly.

"You okay, kid?" The familiar voice of your team mum speaks up to get your attention.

Your too wrapped up in your thoughts to barely even hear her, "M' fine,"

"You sure? You seem quiet-- What is it, does your knee hurt? Do you want another pillow?" Beth tries to offer her help, assisting you with whatever you need.

"I'm fine, Beth!" You shout loudly.

You hadn't meant to snap at Beth of course, but your emotions got the better of you and your temper has always been your worst enemy, amongst other things.

"O... Okay," Beth is taken back by your sudden burst of anger. "Well, you know I'm just through the kitchen if you need me, okay?" She reassures you.

"Mhm," You barely acknowledge her precense, choosing to stare blankly at old episode of Bones you'd put on to try and disract your mind.

You wanted to retreat to your bedroom, but after the last time where you remembered the staged intervention with a certain blonde english skipper, you thought against the idea of that.

So for now, you'll just sit on the sofa, wallowing in self-pity and get attached to fictional characters whos' deathes are inevitable.

"Have you noticed that Y/N is uh..." Beth whispers, hesistant for you to overhear her from the other room.

"Distant?" Viv guesses straight away.

The blonde furrows her eyebrows and nods in slow motion, "Well, yes, uh and a bit snippy as well. Should we talk to her?" She wonders, trying to figure out the best approach to talk to you.

"It's probably a good idea--" Vivs' agreement is cut off.

"You know I can hear you guys, right?" You make your voice known, of course you knew they would be whispering about you.

After all, your not a complete moron to not hear it.

"Y/N," Viv begins to speak.

"I don't like it when you talk about me like that!" You uneasily stand up on your feet, going to move towards the direction of your bedroom for a bit of peace and quiet.

"At least use your crutches!" Beth shouts aloud, gesturing to the item that is currently the bane of your life.

"Bite me!" You respond, scowling at them as you shuffle slowly past, trying to withhold from wincing at the sudden shooting pain in your knee.

At least you do a good job to hold your tears back until your in the confindments of your own bedroom, comforted with the blanket that you can wrap around you and try to block out the rest of the world.

As soon as you got the go-ahead from the doctors to start your rehab at the training grounds, you were virtually jumping for joy.

At least you was on the outside; Inside on your head, it was a completely different story. You were battling your own inner feelings of doubt.

Of course from the minute you'd been allowed back in the gym, every single of your team mates were more than supportive of this step forward in your recovery.

They all knew you'd been finding it difficult, and sure enough most of them had even got the brunt of your anger.

Starting out with your rehab process, you had to start with light excercises but in your head that didn't feel good enough.

You want to be out there on the pitch already, you hate the fact that the healing process is taking so long.

You didn't feel it was fair at all, why won't your stupid knee just heal already?

"You've got this, Y/N!" One of the pyshios' encourage you to keep going with the current training excercise, something so simple felt so hard to you now.

Viv smiles encouringly as she cheers you on from the sidelines, "You're doing great kid." She states.

"Keep pushing!" Leahs' right there beside her, her voice gentle but still managed to hold a firm tone in a way to keep you going.

"You can do this, kid!" Beth chimes in, trying to keep her own tears of happiness at bay as she watches your journey to recovery step that step forward. "We're so proud of you!"

Tears of frustration were visable, even the simplest of tasks felt so gruelling; There were even times whether you questioned if you wanted to hang your football boots up, but that was an easy way out.

Football is your life and its your passion, you'd be gutted to do that.

You had to push forward, you had to do better. You had to be better!

If only it was that simlpe, right?

Nobody warned you off the setbacks in the journey. You had to figure that one out yourself, even the slighest knock and it was a step backwards.

It always seems to be one step forward, two steps back.

You shouldn't have pushed yourself, you should have known better, but of course, your stubborn streak let you down.

In your own opinion, your recovery wasn't going as quick as you wanted it to. So you took it upon yourself to train extra hard in the gym, sure it was difficult under the watchful eye of the older girls' as they wanted to make sure to not let you overdo it, but you had your ways.

Making excuses and staying late at the training grounds once the team had all gone, pushing yourself to the extreme - Unaware of just how much damage you'd be putting yourself through.

Damn stupid knee injuries.

It works to keep your extra training sessions a secret, at least for a while, until one night when your caught red handed, by no other person that the stern blonde English skipper, so just so happens to have come back to pick something up that she'd forgotten.

"Y/N?" You recognise that all too familiar voice all too well, having been on the recieving end of a few lectures.

You freeze in your spot on the treadmill, which isn't very safe in itself, "Shit-- It's not what it looks like!" Your quick to protest.

"Oh? So your not overworking yourself in the gym then, hm?" Leah quirks, raising an eyebrow.

"No, well, uh yeah. I guess?" You stutter your words, knowing you've definitely been caught out now.

Leah can't help but chuckle amusedly, "You guess?"

"I, uh... Look I know it looks bad, but I needed to do this, Le." If you've been caught out then you're at least going to try and fight your reasoning for it, even if she doesn't believe you.

Judging my her facial expression, the blonde definitely isn't fooled.

"Come on. Lets' go, baby England," Leah motions you to follow her, holding out her hand for you to take.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you shut the whirring treadmill off and gingerly look at her, "Why-- Where are we goin'?" You ask.

"Well first I'm taking you for something to eat and then I'm taking you home, its' already been a long day," Your English Captains' quick to tell you, although before you have chance to protest, she continues to speak. "And you shouldn't be pushing yourself anymore than you already are, alright?" She states.

"But..." You still try and protest against the idea.

"No buts, I know you haven't eaten much, buddy," Leahs' firm voice interjects, still continuing to hold her hand out for you to take. "Come on. Grab your stuff and lets' go,"

You should have known it would only be a matter of time before you were caught out.

How could you be so careless, though?

You didn't think you not eating enough would be that noticeable, but apparently not.

Begrudingly, you step off the treadmill and clutch onto her hand to steady your uneasiness coming off it, "Are you going to tell Beth and Viv about this?" You ask, cautiously.

"I have to," Leah replies in agreement.

"Why?" You fight the urge to whine, even if makes sense for them to know, you wish they didn't have too.

"You can't push yourself, kiddo. You know how serious this injury is!" Leahs' firm voice makes a return, not missing the chance to make it known how much of a bad decision this was for you to make.

You know it looks bad, you do but yet you still couldn't help yourself.

You wanted to get better. You wanted-- No, you needed to do better.

"But I'm so fed up, Le," You grumble, walking in the direction of the changing room to grab your stuff. "Why... Why won't it just fuckin' heal already?" You don't mean to swear, you've never been one to use colourful language, but your frustration is at it's brink right now.

"Whoa, easy on the language there, buddy," Leah jokes, chuckling as she wraps her free arm around your shoulder. "Listen, I know your frustrated, but its' going to take time and you know this. You can't rush it, or you'll make it worse!" She states, firmly.

"Stupid knees' injuries suck," You murmer, gathering your stuff together before you make the exit from the training grounds.

Leah chuckles as she unlocks her car, gesturing for you to climb in the passenger seat, "Yep, yes they do," She agrees with you.

"I just want to be out there on the pitch already," You admit, slumping down into the seat once you have buckled yourself in.

The blonde smiles sympathetically at you, understanding your frustration, "That day will come, but for now, you've just gotta trust the process and let your body heal," She pauses before she continues. "I know you don't like it and all, but you have to just be patient this once, buddy."

"Even if it takes forever?" You resist the urge to groan and throw your head back.

"Even then, because it'll be worth it when you make your return to the game," Leah promises you with a gentle tone of voice.

"Yeah, but, what if..." Your sidetracked from what you are going to say, trying to not spiral into your dark thoughts once again.

"What if?" Leah furrows her eyebrow.

You swallow the lump that forms in your throat, "What... What if I'm not as good as I was before I got injured?" You confess the fear that's been plaguing your mind for god-knows how long.

Leah looks at you concerned, "You don't know how its' gonna be, but what I do know is that whatever happens, we're all behind you," She promises you as she gives you a kind smile and gently squeezes your good knee. "The day you eventually do return to the pitch, you're damn sure we'll all be there cheering as loud as we can," She promises you.

"Even if you're on the pitch as well?" You can't help but giggle.

Leah proudly nods in agreement as she grins, "Hey, I'll personally stop the game just to welcome you on the pitch, baby England." The blonde winks playfully at you from where she sits in the car.

"Your silly sometimes, Le," You mumble, finding it hard to take the blonde serious in this very moment.

"I know you're all up in your head about this, but it's going to be okay," Leah words stick firm in your brain as you smile. "Your not alone in this journey, you're never alone. We've got you." 

© scribblesofagoonerr

#woso x reader #arsenal x reader #woso #woso fanfics #beth mead x reader #vivianne miedema x reader #meadema x reader #meadema #scribblesofagoonerr #woso imagine #leah williamson x reader #woso fic #arsenal wfc x reader

[stariiesz]

୨⎯𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝙰𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ⎯୧

Chapter 3

Authors note: Satoru is actually becoming likeable! Also this isn’t proof read again hehe

Tw: Alcohol consumption

August 20th 2017

After a long summer of rest, fun, and heartbreak, it was finally time for the back-to-school season. And for you, it was time to start your first semester at Kyoto College. You were excited of course, it was a fresh start and a chance to meet new people. But somewhere in the back of your mind, you were still a little hurt about what happened at the festival but you were trying to get over it. That wouldn’t stop the thoughts about how Satoru was supposed to also be going to Kyoto College but had changed his mind a few months beforehand.

Now you think it’s better he doesn’t come. Running into him would most likely go a lot like it did at the festival. There was no universe in which he’d want to see you and potentially be friends. Those were all hopes of the past and you’ve learned to accept it. You would be lying if you didn’t say you weren’t a little mad at Satoru. I mean, after all, he hated you for no reason. He was rude and he made it clear he wanted nothing to do to you. You wish you had gotten the hint earlier in high school so you didn’t look like such a hopeless romantic. Now that you think about it, maybe Alina wasn’t the only one with an obvious crush on Satoru.

More importantly, you were moving out of the only home you’ve ever known for the year. You were dorming on campus with what you hoped would be a good roommate. You packed everything you needed for the time being. You took one last look at your room before heading out. You lived an hour and thirty minutes away from Kyoto University, so you wouldn’t be going home daily. More like once a week or two. It wasn’t too bad a schedule, but for you who aren’t used to being away from home for so long, it would be a little difficult.

Your parents helped you load up the car and you drove to the campus. After finally arriving on campus you had your parents help you load stuff in your dorm. The dorm was average-sized. Your roommate wasn’t coming until tomorrow so it gave you some time to adjust and have things the way you wanted them. You said goodbyes to your family and there you were. Sitting in your empty dorm room with boxes of stuff packed around you. You sighed and laid down on your bed staring straight up at the ceiling. Classes started tomorrow and you were taking the writing class you wanted to take. That was something to look forward to, right?

You explored the campus and got a feel of where you would be dedicating the next four years of your education. You got some ramen at a local ramen shop on campus and went back to your dorm where you would eat in silence. Your roommate decided to come a little earlier and came later that evening. So far you liked her.

Her name was Ayaka. She was 18 and was really interested in majoring in arts. She seemed like someone you could make friends with so that was good. She was super optimistic and she wore bright clothes and had bright room decor. She was the solar opposite of you but it was nice to have the company. You two talked for a while and you realized you weirdly had a lot in common. You botched like reading books, especially manga, you both strive to do good in school, and you both didn’t have any friends. You were just glad to have a good roommate and a nice person to talk to. So far college life was good, even though you hadn’t actually started classes.

So there you were the next day standing in front of your mirror wearing an outfit that wasn’t you at all. You just wanted to make a good impression on your first day, but you figured it would be better if you dressed like yourself. Wearing a mini skirt and a crop top was unlike you, so you changed to the usual hoodie and some sweats. Much better and much more comfortable.

“I like your outfit, Y/N,” Ayaka said from her top bunk as she dangled her legs and played with one of many charm bracelets. You gave her a smile and adjusted your ponytail. “Thanks.” You said putting the last notebook into your bag. Even though you hadn’t even known each other for 24 hours, you were becoming friends. You had a fresh start indeed.

You two went your separate ways as you had classes on opposite sides of the campus. You walked to your first class which was mathematics, a subject you didn’t like but you did decent in it. The class wasn’t too bad. You got to know your professor and some other nearby seatmates. After that, you had social science. You actually made good friends with a friend group consisting of three people. They were all super nice and again you had a bunch of shared interests. This college thing wasn’t so bad after all.

After three classes, you had a break for lunch where you sat with your new-found friends, including Ayaka. You talked about the professors you liked the ones you didn’t and the classes you wanted to take and the ones you didn’t. It was going great until Ayaka mentioned something that piqued your interest immediately.

“Yeah so, in my art class this morning there was this really pretty boy. He seemed popular already too! He had white hair and the prettiest shade of blue eyes you’ve ever seen. He was soo cool. He had these piercings and-” Ayakas voice faded into the background. White hair blue eyes, white hair blue eyes. Surly it couldn’t be him. You heard yourself that he was going to the University of Tokyo with Alina so why would he be here? What could have changed? Then again, maybe it’s not him. His hair could have been a super light blonde instead of white right? But those eyes, you couldn’t mistake those eyes.

Your mind was running wild with thoughts about the mystery man who was possibly Satoru. It was only confirmed when:

“Yeah he was so pretty, I think his name started with an S or something. Sawyer? No that’s stupid. Sa...Ugh, I can’t remember.” She was cut off by you mid-sentence.

“Satoru. His name was Satoru, right?” You asked. You had to be sure it was him. And even if it was, why was he here, why did he change schools last second? You had so many questions, but on top of all of that was the slight bit of hope that maybe things could be different this time.

“Yeah, yeah! That was his name, Satoru. Do you know him or something?” Ayaka said as she took another bite of her Mac and Cheese. Your stomach felt like it was making knots. So it really was him. Satoru Gojo was at your school after all, but why, and did that mean Alina was there?

“Yeah actually, we used to go to the same high school, long story.” You said snapping out of your daydreaming. Ayaka looked surprised at your comment.

“Really? I figured he was a model or something. You must have been lucky to have him at your school.” She said. The rest of your friend's conversation faded into the back as you pondered. Ok so it was confirmed to be him, but now what? There was a likely chance of running into him, but what would you do if you did? Ignore him, smile at him, hell maybe even try to talk to him? But would he even be interested in striking up a conversation with you? Probably not. It’s probably best for you to ignore him like he's done to you right?

After the lunch break ended you headed to class. This one you were pretty excited about because it was the writing class. You got there a bit early so you could get to know the professor. You may have seemed like a teacher's pet to others but you were excited for this professor's class. You took a seat in the middle row of seats and pulled out your supplies. As class officially started students started to flood in, you were looking to see if a certain white head of hair had entered but you hadn’t seen anything yet. Thank god. You weren’t sure if it would be a good or bad thing if he were to come into this class. But if he were to come, you’d try your best to avoid him.

The class filled up rather quickly and there was one seat left which was right by you. As you were waiting for the class to start, you had your head down lost in the fantasy of the book you were reading, you only looked up when you felt the presence of someone sitting next to you. You only looked up when they had dropped their pen and you grabbed it for them. That's when you locked eyes with those eyes. Those beautiful ocean eyes. His eyes. No other than Satoru Gojo sat beside you. You were shocked it really was him. He mumbled a quiet thanks before taking his pen back and looking up at the board. You closed your book and paid attention to the board, not that you were really paying attention though. You kept getting the occasional glance at Satoru and he did the same even going as far as to smile at you. It was like the first day of high school all over again.

Things felt different like he was being maybe even nice to you. Did you change that much over the summer that he couldn’t recognize you or something? The only thing you really changed about your appearance was getting bangs over the summer but unless Satoru’s blind, he would still know it’s you. Unless he was just being genuinely nice for some odd reason. You were so lost in your thoughts that you basically missed half the first lecture, but it didn’t really matter to you now.

After class, you were both packing up when your professor called you up.

“Since you two are the last ones here, can you do me a favor and clean the board and sweep the floors? There’s a board meeting in here next and I haven’t had the time to do it, I have to grab the snacks for everyone.” Your professor asked in a hurry. Normally it would have been an immediate yes, but again it wasn’t just you, it was Satoru too. But you couldn’t turn down your clearly stressed professor just because of a boy so you agreed and so did Satoru.

“Thank you both, I owe ya!” He said walking out of the class and closing the door behind him. An awkward silence fell over the room as you and Satoru stood there for a second before you took the broom and began to sweep. You didn’t care at this point. You just wanted this awkward interaction to be over with. Satoru took an eraser and ran it over the chalk writing on the board. There had been an awkward silence for a few minutes before Satoru finally broke it.

Satoru cleared his throat “So, how did you like his class?” He asked, eyes still preen on removing the chalk writing on the board.

You were silent for a second, still not completely sure he was talking to you. “Uh, I liked it, it was interesting.” You replied focusing on sweeping like it was the most important thing ever.

“Yeah.” He said. He stopped erasing and turned to look at you. You looked up at him and you two made eye contact for what felt like forever. His eyes focused on yours and the same with yours. You cleared your throat before looking back down and sweeping, but Satoru was still looking at you, you could feel it.

“Y/N, I want you to know I’m sorry for being such a douchebag in high school, you didn’t deserve that.” He said rebreaking the silence. Your mouth almost dropped to the floor. Satoru was apologizing to you? Now? Why was he doing it now? Was he dying and he wanted to make right before he passed or something? You stopped your brain from jumping to crazy and stupid conclusions like that and thought of a way to respond to all this.

“It’s.. ok, I guess.” That was all you said as you continued to sweep up the floor. You couldn't stop yourself from asking the next question though. “Why now are you apologizing?” You asked finally looking up from the floor again. He was looking down at you.

“Because we're in college now, there's no need to hold stupid grudges from high school, so let’s have a fresh start, yeah?” He said with a smile. The first ever genuine smile he’s given you since that day in freshman year. You were very surprised, but what he said made sense. Even though it had only been a month since you last saw him, he seemed to grow over such a short period of time. But there was another question eating at you. Where was Alina, and why did he not go to the University of Tokyo with her?

Since Satoru was being honest with you, you did the same.

“So, what happened to your girlfriend?” You asked as you set the broom down, finally being done with your small side quest. A flash of confusion crossed Satoru’s face for a moment as if he was totally unaware of having this so-called ‘girlfriend’.

“Who?” He asked as he finished wiping up the last bit of chalk on the board. Now it was your turn to be the confused one. Just a month ago, Alina had made it very clear that she was with Satoru now. It was confirmed by your own eyes when you saw them kiss in the parking lot too. So why is he now acting like he isn’t dating her? The thought that they may have broken up popped up in your mind as well.

“You know, Alina. She told me you two were together back at the festival, and I saw you guys kissing in the parking lot.” You told him as you sat and spun in the professor's chair right in front of him. Satoru giggled a bit.

“Me and Alina? No, I bet she was just pranking you, we’re not dating. And that kiss was just her trying to make some boy jealous, so I went along.” Satoru said clearing up the misunderstanding.

Maybe the kiss made sense now but you remember very vividly Alina telling you that the two of them were together. It made you a little happy to know that she tried to make you jealous but lied the whole time. And it was clear by Satoru’s tone that he saw her more as a close friend than a girlfriend. But another part of you felt a little bad for Alina. Crazy, right? But the poor girl was so desperate to keep other girls away from him that she would lie and ruin other girl’s reputations one of those being yours. Wait, maybe you don’t feel so bad after all. So they weren’t together, that was kind of a relief. You seemed to note that Satoru probably didn’t want to talk about your little confession, so you didn’t bring it up.

You two were interrupted by the professor coming back in with a tray of snacks and napkins in his hand.

“Thank you, you two. I will pay you back somehow. You can go now, I gotta set up.” He said ushering you out of his classroom. This was the last class of the day so you had nothing but time. You and Satoru awkwardly stood outside the door of the class before he spoke.

“Uh wanna head to the dorms now?” He asked rubbing his undercut. You nodded and you both headed in that direction. The dorms weren’t on the same floor due to the gender-separated dorm system, but they were in the same building. The walk there was silent, it wasn’t as awkward as it would have been before but it was quiet. You finally decide to ask him another question as you enter the building.

“So why’d you not go to the University of Tokyo with Alina?” You said as you both stood at the beginning of the stairwell which would lead to different floors. He took a long pause before speaking.

“It’s gonna seem stupid but, it’s cause my father used to go here and… I don’t know I guess I wanted to carry on his legacy and make him proud.”

Right. You had heard that Satoru’s dad had sadly passed when he was still young and it affected him greatly. He didn’t like talking about it either. So it had to mean something for him to tell you about it.

“Yeah, I thought I wanted to go to the University of Tokyo because a bunch of my friends were going there like Alina and the rest, but, I thought about it and I wanted to come here again. Alina thinks she might transfer here next year, but I don’t think she will.

That made sense now. Satoru always wanted to come here for his dad but was temporarily persuaded by his friends to join them at the University of Tokyo. You were kind of glad that he came to this school. This felt like it could be the beginning of a friendship between the two of you, or something like that.

“Oh, that’s nice I guess.” You said holding on to the straps of your bags. “Well, I’m that way.” You said pointing to your dorm level.

“And I’m that way.” He said pointing to the level of his dorm. “I guess we'll see each other another time, bye Y/N.” He said heading up to his dorm. Maybe Satoru wasn’t so bad after all. He was just misunderstood by you, and Alina didn’t help with that image. He was pretty chill, you see why people wanted to be friends with him so bad.

August 21st 2017

You were woken up bright and early by a text message on your phone. It was six am and you were staring into the bright light of your phone. What stared back at you was a notification saying that Satoru had started following you on Instagram. Your eyes widened for a brief moment as you clicked on his profile skimming through the photos. He had a very active social life, there was no doubt about that.

He had a lot of photos of himself with friends, and family, and traveling to different places. He also had a lot of photos with Alina, who was tagged in each one. You clicked on her user and checked out her page. Half of her pictures were ones with Satoru. You blocked her before hitting the ‘follow’ button on Satoru’s profile. You put your phone down and went right back to sleep.

Later that morning you woke up and started getting ready when your phone dinged again. This time it was a DM from Satoru on Instagram. You opened it and read what he had said. “I was just looking through your profile and I didn’t know you liked manga. I have a big collection myself.” He said. You smiled at that because, under his popular boy image, he was just as much as much as a nerd as you.

“Yeah, I like reading One Piece, what about you?” You texted back as you resumed getting ready.

“Same!” He said. This brought another smile to your face.

After finally getting ready, you started walking onto campus with your friends but their conversations faded to the back as you thought about things with Satoru. Things were going great so far, and it indeed seemed like the beginning of a friendship.

“Yeah, there’s a party there tonight, wanna go? Y/N?” Ayaka tapped your shoulder and you snapped out of it. “What are you pondering about?” Ayaka asked.

“Nothing, what were you asking me?” You said brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“I was asking if you want to go to a party with me tonight! It’s for the freshman and like everyone is going. Ayaka said nudging your shoulder. You had other academic things to focus on that night so you declined.

“Nah that's ok, you guys have fun though.” You said as you pulled out your phone and checked for any DM’s. Nothing new from Satoru. You wonder if he’s going to the party, but then remember it’s Satoru, of course, he would be there with girls swarming all around him.

After classes that day, you went to a coffee shop on campus and did a little reading there. You were at the climax of the book when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You took out your headphones and turned around to see Satoru with some books in his hands.

“Can I sit here?” Here said with a few strands of his snow colored hair in his face. You nodded and he sat down. You took out your headphones and closed your book.

“So are you going to that freshman party thing tonight?” Satoru asked taking a sip of his expresso.

“No, it doesn’t really interest me.” You said playing with the rim of your novel. “Are you going?” You asked as you stared at him. You were tempted to move those strands of hair out of his face as you paid attention to him.

“Yeah, I figured it would be a chance to get, hang out with my friends, and meet new people,” Satoru said. “You should come though, you never came to one of the high school ones so the least you can do is come to college ones.”

You sighed. He was right about that, but did you actually want to go to a party tonight? No, that was the last thing you wanted to do. But he and your new friend group were all going too. Sure you didn’t really like parties but, it was college, it was time to step out of your comfort zone for a bit.

You hesitated. ‘I’ll… think about it.” Satoru smiled at your words.

“Great, so I’ll take that as a yes!” Satoru said taking another sip of his drink. He gave you a lemon muffin which he had bought for you at the front of the coffee shop. Lemon was your favorite flavor, so it was cute how he got you a lemon muffin most likely not even knowing.

After you and Satoru left the cafe you went your separate ways and you dashed up your dorms staircase. You went to your dorm and asked Ayaka for help on what to wear, how to do your makeup, hair all of that. She laughed a bit

“Y/N, It’s not a dinner date, it’s a college party, you don’t have to dress up so much. Just wear a tight short dress, leave your hair down, and a little makeup.” She said laughing at your frantic state of panic.

“Why did you change your mind? I thought you didn’t want to come.” Ayaka said as she put her hair in a bun and ate her instant ramen from the cup. You sighed.

“Well I didn’t but now someone I like is going and he wanted me to come so, I’m coming.” You said looking through your wardrobe for anything somewhat cute. Unfortunately, you didn’t own any tight dresses, so the best outfit you could put together was a short top and a skirt. Ayaka did a light amount of makeup for you and did your hair as well. You looked good, and it didn’t feel like you were being a fake either.

You and Ayaka walked to the party which wasn’t too long a walk. You met up with a few other friends too. Now you were standing in front of the door, the sound of loud music playing in the room.

“Are you guys ready for our first college party?” Ayaka said excitedly as she opened the door and you all entered.

It was loud and smelled of booze, there were a lot of people and you kept bumping into people. It was pretty overwhelming. The whole time you were looking for Satoru as your friends went off to grab some drinks. You had never been drunk before and you didn’t want to start doing stuff like that now. Instead, you took a seat in the kitchen where it was more quiet and people would occasionally come in and out for the alcohol.

You sat at the kitchen table suddenly regretting coming to this god-awful place. You’d much rather be cozy at your dorm reading a book or watching a movie, but here you were trying to step out of your comfort zone and do something new for a change. You decided you should probably just head back to the dorms and let your friends have fun. Right before you were about to leave the kitchen a guy with long black hair, ear piercings, and sweats on entered. He dug around the fridge which indicated he probably lived there with some other roommates. You got up about to leave before he stopped you.

“Hey, why are you leaving so soon?” He asked not batting an eye and pouring beer into a cup. It caught you off guard. Why did he care if you left, he looked like the type of guy to have a bunch of girls waiting for him.

“Uh, it’s not really my scene.” You said with an awkward chuckle. He closed the fridge and turned around to face you. That's when you got a good look at his face and he was hot.

“Want some?” He said holding out the red cup of beer. You politely declined before he took a seat across from you. “So if it’s not your scene, why’d you come in the first place?” He said staring at you as he started sipping some of his beer. You didn’t want to tell him that it was because of a boy, so you told him the partial truth.

“Because my friends are here and I wanted to check out the party.” You said as you sat back down. “What about you? Why are you here?” You said returning his question.

“Just came for the drinks and a few friends as well.” He said gulping down the rest of his beer. A moment of science passed before you got up.

“Well, I’m gonna head out now.” You said before you felt a strong grip on your shoulder. It was his.

“Wait, I just wanted to know your name.” He said putting his red cup on the table. You told him your name and he told you his name was Suguru.

“Have a good night.” He said walking back to the pile of drinks for his next one. You left the kitchen and navigated through the noisy party. Right before you left you heard a familiar voice call your name behind you. It was Satoru’s. You turned around and there he was with a red solo cup in his hand.

“I didn’t know if you’d come.” He said a little out of breath likely from chasing after you. “Here follow me, it’s too loud in here.” He muttered taking your hand and leading you somewhere. It was to the backyard where a few other people were, mostly the stoners. You two Sat down on the sofa and he smiled. “I’m glad you came, it was starting to get boring around here.” He said as he offered you his drink. You declined.

“Oh, I keep forgetting to ask you, can I have your number Y/N? It’s easier to text than DM on Instagram, you know?” He asked you. You were a little surprised but you gave it to him nonetheless.

“Great, now we can keep in contact.” He said as he smiled at you for the thousandth time that day. But that smile made you feel like you had butterflies in your stomach every time. “Uh so I stopped by a manga store after school and I got this one for you. I saw it was one of your favorite series and the latest volume just dropped. I hope you don’t already have it.” He said in a somewhat shy tone of voice as he rubbed the back of his head. You found it sweet that he had found one of your interests and bought it for you.

“No, actually I haven’t gotten the new volume, thanks!” You said giving him a small hug as you took the book. He smelled good was the main thing you noticed when you hugged him. Hugging him felt nice, and comforting. It was awkward when you stopped hugging and sat on opposite sides of the sofa. You tucked your hair behind your ear. It was clear Satoru was a little drunk but nothing too bad.

“Y/N, your confession didn’t mean nothing to me,” Satoru said suddenly breaking the silence. Confession? Right, you had almost forgotten that you had poured your feelings out to him before graduation because you thought he wasn’t coming to Kyoto, but now he’s here and it’s awkward.

Your eyes widened. “Oh.” That was all you managed to say as you locked eyes with him. You quickly looked down feeling the heat rush to your face. “Yeah about that-” He cut you off.

“And I think I like you too.”

Authors note: each chapter keeps getting longer and longer:p

5.0k words

<-previous Next chapter coming soon!

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[zegrasdrysdale]

also if your not uber uber busy could YOU PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE write a fic based off of one of these songs (feel free to do all of them my queen but NO PRESSURE) I also don't mind who the fic is with use who ever you feel would go best with it :)

Before you Go - Lewis Capaldi

It's Not Over - Daughtry

Goodbyes - post Malone

Circles - Post Malone

I hate you, I love you - Gnash

Mr Brightside - The Killers

Scars to your beautiful - Alessia Cara

Thank you I might request more but again no pressure

[ it’s not over ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : Jamie and his girlfriend broke up right before he was traded to Philly. when Jamie comes back to pack up the rest of his things, she tries to fight for them since she doesn’t believe it’s over for them

warning(s) : angst galore ! a few uses of Y/N

author’s note : giving me free range to write this abt whoever was probably not the best idea, especially when i like writing jamie angst 😈

fic inspired by :

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I was blown away What could I say? It all seemed to make sense You've taken away everything And I can't deal with that I try to see the good in life But good things in life are hard to find

The NHL season ended without a word from Jamie since the day he got traded to the Flyers in January. Nearly four months passed after he was traded and she never got so much as a text message from her former boyfriend of nearly two years.

They shared a whirlwind of a relationship where they met, said they loved each other, and moved into an Anaheim apartment down the street from Trevor all within a year.

She truly loved him, and she truly messed up before he left for the trip to Nashville that he never came back from.

She knew there were rumors going around Anaheim about Jamie's trade, and Jamie blocked them out every time he heard even a whisper about him getting traded out of Anaheim. He didn't want to hear the reality. When she tried to get him to see that, he walked out the door for the trip after they got into a fight. He packed a bag and spent the night at Trevor's.

Now that the season is over, she expects him to come back to finish packing whatever he didn't grab over the All Star break in February. She couldn't just leave the apartment. She couldn't leave all of the memories behind so easily, especially since she still loves him.

Trevor texts her the day after the season ends and tells her that Jamie is coming in soon to grab the last of his things. Jamie couldn't even let her know that he's coming by. She spends that night curled up in their bed.

We'll blow it away, blow it away Can we make this something good? Well, I'll try to do it right this time around

The following morning, she's up early and thinks about what she can do to fix what's broken between them over a cup of coffee. She has no idea if he's mad at what she said or mad at the fact that he did get traded out of Anaheim.

Maybe she shouldn't have said anything about the trade before it happened. Maybe he wouldn't be about to move out the last few boxes he packed in February if she let him process his future trade on his own.

She fucked up, but maybe she can fix it. It's not over until they both think it's over, and she doesn't think it's over with them. She'll try to do it right this time. She'll be supportive of him instead of trying to get him to see reality. That's where she messed up because Jamie was probably trying to cope with the fact that he wasn't wanted in Anaheim anymore by the team that put their faith in him and drafted him 6th a few years ago.

All she wanted to do was prepare him for the possibility of being traded across the country, and she was met with radio silence since he walked out that door.

He walked out that door with her heart and took it across the country with him. She has to try to fix what's broken. She's not ready to say goodbye to him. She's not ready for him to become a memory or a ghost that haunts her dreams.

The sound of a key in the door grabs her attention immediately. She was leaning on the kitchen island and stands straight up when the door opens. She leaves the cup of coffee on the counter because she is afraid that she's going to drop it when she sees who's walking into the apartment.

She bites her lip so she doesn't say anything when Jamie walks into the apartment for the first time with her there since the fight a bunch of months ago. It feels like a lifetime ago when he walked out the door.

He freezes when he sees her in the kitchen. Their eyes meet and she has to hold back tears.

Jamie looks so much happier and healthier than the last time she saw him in person. The bags under his eyes have gotten lighter. He is practically glowing.

He was working so hard while he was playing for Anaheim because he felt like he had something to prove. He felt like he needed to prove that he belonged here. Philly wanted him so he probably was able to relax.

"Hi," she finally breathes out when the silence gets to be too much for her. "You look, um ... you look good."

"Thanks," he replies, voice quiet. "Are the boxes still in the bedroom?"

She nods quietly and Jamie makes a quick escape down the hallway. She rests her elbows on the counter and puts her face in his hands to hide any emotions that Jamie could see when he comes back out into the living room.

Her throat closes up and tears prick her eyes. She had no idea that seeing him again would cause her to have this reaction. Seeing Jamie will always probably make her have some kind of reaction.

Let's start over I'll try to do it right this time around It's not over Because a part of me is dead and in the ground This love is killing me, but you're the only one It's not over

When he comes back into the living room, Jamie is carrying one of the six boxes that are left. That's probably the biggest box so he has to carry it by itself. The other boxes are light so they can be carried two or three at a time.

That means she's running out of time to talk to him before he walks out of her life completely.

She walks back to the bedroom where his remaining boxes sit in the corner. She sits on the bed so she can catch him when he walks back into the room. With a quick wipe of her cheeks to dry them, she settles on the mattress with her legs crosses and waits for Jamie to come back.

There are footsteps in the hallway and Jamie appears in the doorway a second later. He pauses mid-step when he sees her sitting on the bed they used to share.

"Can we talk?" she asks as her entire body shakes with anxiety and nervousness. "Please?"

Jamie walks over to the corner and piles two of the boxes on top of one another. "I don't have time," he tells her as he picks up the pair of boxes. "Trevor is waiting for me outside to take me and my stuff to the airport for my flight to Toronto."

She frowns as he walks out the door with his things, but she quickly throws on a pair of slides and follows him. "Jamie, please," she begs. "I don't want to let you leave without saying what I have to say. I don't want you to get on that flight without talking to me first."

He gets on the elevator and she jumps on with him. He presses the button to go to the first floor and the doors shut. "(Y/N)," he sighs. "I can't do this again. I don't want to do this again."

"I want to fight for us, Jamie," she says anyway as the elevator keeps descending to the first floor. "I'm not letting you just walk away so easily again. It was a mistake the first time letting you walk away. Especially because you didn't come back."

The doors open and Jamie walks out. She follows him out the front door. Trevor's car sits next to the curb, and he leans against it. "There is a reason I didn't come back," he comments as he throws the boxes in the trunk of the car. Then he looks at her. "I was traded, remember? I bet you do because you kept reminding me that I was going to be traded."

His words cause her to freeze as he walks away. She looks at Trevor, who just points in Jamie's direction. "Go," he tells her. "He's just being hard to get."

She runs after him as he approaches the elevator. The doors open and she once again joins him in the small room.

"I should've been a good girlfriend and be there for you to help you cope with the possibility of being traded," she says to Jamie. "I shouldn't have kept telling you to face reality. I didn't understand how you were feeling, but I do now. I wasn't there for you and was making it harder for you. I'm sorry."

The two walk back into the privacy of their apartment because it's still technically Jamie's apartment too. Once the door shuts, Jamie spins and faces her.

"You made it seem like you were excited to move to wherever it was I got traded to," Jamie snaps. "Meanwhile, I was leaving behind the life that I had made for myself over the past four years. I was leaving the best teammates behind, I was leaving my best friends behind. I pushed myself so hard once those rumors started that I hurt myself trying to prove that I belonged here. I hurt myself trying to prove that I had a spot on the Ducks, and they still traded me anyway. There's a reason I didn't want to face that reality and it's because I was leaving everything behind. Then there was you who seemed like you didn't care what you were leaving behind."

"Because I was ready to move across the country to be with you!" she shouts at him. Her voice is strained as she chokes back tears. "I didn't want to leave everything behind, but I was ready to start a life with you wherever you ended up, then you walked out that door and never came back. You ignored every single text and call I made. You never gave me the chance to explain myself, and now here we are."

He walks back into the bedroom to grab the last three boxes. "I didn't want to hear your excuses," he says as she follows him. "I didn't want to listen to how excited you were to start the next chapter of our lives or whatever while I was struggling to walk away from Anaheim. Sorry if I needed a second."

As he stacks the last boxes on top of each other, she says, "I would've given you as much time as you needed, Jamie. All you had to do was talk to me. Instead, you ignored me." She pauses as Jamie lifts up the boxes. "If I could do the last few months over again, I would. If I could be there for you then I would. I'd support you through anything. I did support you. I watched every single Flyers game you played in and I had to resist the urge to call you when you got hurt a few weeks after the trade. I had to ask Trevor how you were even though he was hurt too because I wasn't sure if you'd answer and I was worried you'd hurt your shoulder like you did last year. I cheered for every point you got and I loved you from 2,700 miles away while you were ignoring me."

Tears form and fall down her cheeks as she tells Jamie what been happening with her since he left. She's angry, but she loves him so much that she's willing to be angry at him for a second while they talk for the first time in months.

She's willing to be angry at him for this one moment.

Jamie puts the boxes on the ground and looks at her. "You still loved me and supported me even though I was ignoring you?" he asks like he doesn't believe her. She nods and wipes away her own tears while she looks at Jamie. "I didn't know-"

"You wouldn't have known because you refused to talk to me," she interrupts as she rubs her face. "I'm sure you didn't bother asking Z how I was either because he didn't tell me if you did ask."

"I asked him not to tell you."

"What?"

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "I did ask how you were doing, but I told Trevor not to tell you I was asking because I wasn't sure if I wanted to talk to you yet," Jamie explains. "He didn't tell me that you still loved me and were supporting everything I did in Philly."

"Still love," she corrects. "Still support. I always will because I thought for years that it was going to be the two of us til the end. When you walked through that door a little bit ago, I was getting ready to fight for us. I didn't think it was actually over between us, but you tell me if it's over or if we can start over."

Jamie stays quiet, and the only reason she doesn't immediately tell him to leave is because she can see that he's genuinely thinking about her words.

I've taken all I could take And I cannot wait We're wasting too much time Being strong, holding on Can't let it bring us down My life with you means everything So I won't give up that easily

His phone buzzes and he takes it out of the pocket of his shorts. He looks back up at her and says, "I have to-"

"Go?" she interrupts again. "Then go, but know that I'm not done fighting for us and our lives together."

"(Y/N)," Jamie sighs. "I have to go tell Trevor that I'm staying." Her eyes widen. "It's not over between us. I don't want it to ever be over between us, so if you'll let me, I'd like to start over. Redo the last few months or so with you."

All of the tension leaves her body and she nearly falls to the floor. She lets out the biggest sigh of relief, and also the loudest sob that echoes off the walls of the bedroom. She covers her face and cries into her hands.

A pair of arms wrap around her shoulders and she smells Jamie's familiar cologne on his body as it engulfs her. "We'll do it right this time," he assures her. "I promise.

I'll blow it away, blow it away Can we make this something good? 'Cause it's all misunderstood Well, I'll try to do it right this time around

Let's start over I'll try to do it right this time around It's not over Because a part of me is dead and in the ground This love is killing me, but you're the only one It's not over

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MASTERLIST

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[superprofesh]

The Five Times Colt Seavers Almost Kisses You (and the One Time He Does) — Part 4

Pairing: Colt Seavers x reader

Description: The fourth time Colt Seavers almost kisses you — on the brink of a promise he knows he can't afford to make.

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.2k

Tag List: @strangedeerconnoisseur, @icantwaittoliveandlearn, @moonlightandstarshimmer, @chemococktailonthehouse, @1word, @itzjustj-1000, @k-l-a-w-s, @hotdogbread23

Author’s Note: I've been blown away by how kind you all have been about this fic, and I'm so glad you're enjoying reading it as much as I am writing it! We've got two parts to go, and they only get better from here :) Thank you for all the support, and let me know what you think of this chapter!!

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

It’s five o’clock in the morning, and Colt Seavers has already been standing in the misty parking lot for two hours when he finally sees your car pulling in the entrance.

The last twelve hours have been absolute torture for him. One minute, he was walking into the crowded club to drop off some equipment with the stunt coordinator; the next, he was sharing space at the bar with you, trapped under your spell despite all his vows that he wouldn’t keep pushing this flirty thing you’ve been sharing.

He’s been conflicted for months now, knowing that his feelings for you are only getting deeper but also knowing that a relationship with him is the last thing you need. No matter how hard he tries to be noble for you, he just can’t get free from the way you enrapture him so completely — the way he thinks of you every moment of the day, dreams of a future where you could feel about him the way he feels about you.

And he honestly thought you didn’t — that you couldn’t — until last night. When he completely wrecked everything, including your heart.

Colt squeezes his eyes shut again, remembering the way he pulled back from you just a few seconds before your lips would have met. In the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do: cut it off, laugh it off, let it go before he betrayed how absolutely captivated he is by everything you do.

He keeps telling himself that he did the right thing. That he’s no good for you, and you’re better off not getting confused by his overwhelming feelings for you. But he keeps seeing your face — the way all the light in your eyes vanished, the way your shoulders slumped and your expression wilted. He had no idea there were actual, genuine feelings on your part. And for him?

Colt has spent the last twelve hours deliberating how to handle this situation. He knows he has to make it right with you, but the question is how. His inner monologue has quite the speech ready for him. You can’t even THINK about confessing your feelings. You’re the one who has no future, no big dreams, maybe not even much longer to live! You have no right to force that kind of life on anyone. Especially if you really care.

After hours of tormented decision-making, Colt has come to the same conclusion he always does: he can’t let you know how he feels about you. He’s got to apologize, make sure you know he didn’t mean to hurt you, let you think he’s just been flirting for fun, maybe even rekindle your injured friendship. But he absolutely cannot let you know he’s in love with you.

And he is, isn’t he? He wouldn’t have waited with bated breath in the parking lot for two hours if he wasn’t madly, hopelessly, irremediably in love with you.

Colt has planned this conversation thousands of times since last night, but the only thing he can choke out when you climb out of your car and start toward the studio is, “Hey.”

You glance up at him in surprise, clearly less than pleased to find him hanging around the parking lot so early. His heart tightens at the sight of your pale face, the dark circles under your eyes betraying what was probably a sleepless night. “Hey,” you respond emotionlessly.

“Do you have a second?” Colt asks. His voice isn’t quite as strong as he hoped, but the sight of you is sending jolts of electricity through his veins.

You look to the side, pursing your lips and injecting a hint of coldness into your voice that he has never heard before. “Honestly, Colt, no offense,” you say plainly, “but I don’t really want to talk right now.”

Colt presses his lips together, knowing he’s the reason for this uncharacteristic coldness. “Believe me, I understand,” he blurts out, “but I’ve got to talk to you about last night.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you shoot back, fixing your stare on him again. Behind the coldness in your eyes is a deep sorrow that twists his heart. “I misread the signals, I overthought it, it’s not a big deal. You don’t need to explain anything.”

“Yes, I do,” he insists. “I messed up big time. I haven’t had a moment’s peace since last night, and I have to get this off my chest, okay? You don’t have to say anything.” He knows he sounds desperate, but he’s past caring. “Please, just hear me out and let me explain.”

You hold his stare, unrelenting, unforgiving. He loves you for it. “Fine.”

Colt releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding, overwhelmed with relief that you’re even willing to listen to him. His biggest worry all night was that you wouldn’t speak to him, wouldn’t let him make things right.

He plunges right in, knowing it will be messy but not caring. “Listen, I’m really bad at this, but I’m going to give it my best go. These past few months that I’ve known you… it’s been really nice. You’re amazing to be around, and I always feel better after I’ve hung out with you. You’ve honestly been the best thing about this shoot.”

Your expression doesn’t change, but Colt can feel the iciness in your gaze softening ever so slightly. It gives him the courage to press on, even though he knows what he’s about to say is going to devastate himself.

“The thing is,” he continues, heart in his throat, “I’ve been so caught up in just… flirting and messing around, that I haven’t paid attention to how it might affect you. I haven’t been paying attention to the signals either.”

You furrow your brow at him. “What are you saying?”

Colt, you are the worst at this, man.

“I’m saying… I’m really sorry that I hurt your feelings last night. I’ve been replaying it over and over in my mind, and I can’t get past the way you looked at me when I pulled away and laughed everything off. Just, the look in your eyes and the way you looked like I had let you down — it’s been killing me.”

Your expression finally softens, and Colt hates himself for the words that are coming out of his mouth. “I thought this was just a fun flirtation between friends and that it would be better to keep any physical stuff out of it. I didn’t know there was anything on your side. Honestly. Not until I saw how much it hurt you for me to just… act like it meant nothing.”

There it is again — that hint of betrayal in your eyes. Now that Colt knows you care for him, his decision to “do the right thing” suddenly seems like the most gut-wrenching, agonizing thing he’s ever done.

It’s all I can do. I have nothing to offer, nothing to make a relationship worth the pain it would cause. I love you, and that’s why I won’t tell you.

Your brow is still lined with confusion, trying to parse out his real meaning among the confusion of words. “But you’re still saying… it didn’t mean anything to you.”

This is killing him. “Of course it meant something to me,” Colt blurts out before he can stop himself completely. He tries to amend it. “Man, I am so bad at this. What I’m trying to say is… I would never have even started a flirtation with you if I knew it would hurt you. Please believe me when I say I would never, ever, in a gazillion years want to do anything to hurt you or make you feel like I don’t care about your feelings. I should have been more sensitive and realized that I can’t just… lead you on without it mattering.”

Lead you on. As if I didn’t mean every word I’ve ever said to you. As if I wouldn’t die for you right now.

You nod, pursing your lips again with a clearer, more determined look in your eyes. “So, just so we’re clear,” you say slowly, “there’s nothing going on? All this flirting and hanging out and almost-kissing — it’s just been for kicks?”

“No, no, not just for kicks,” he backtracks immediately. Even when he’s trying to be noble, he can’t betray your trust that far. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“What did you mean, Colt?” He can hear the genuine confusion in your voice. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.”

Colt takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he tries to focus on the right thing to say. “I’m just trying to tell you that I am so, so sorry for anything I’ve done to hurt you. I’ve been stupid and insensitive and awful, and I wish there was a way I could make it up to you. I just…” He opens his eyes, fixes them on yours so you know he’s telling the truth. “I couldn’t let this go without making it right with you. No matter what, you mean a lot to me, and the thought of losing your friendship honestly makes me miserable. Please just tell me I haven’t messed this up beyond repair.”

Please tell me I haven’t lost your trust completely. Please tell me I haven’t damaged the person I love most beyond repair.

You stare him down for what feels like an eternity, your discerning gaze burning holes into him. Finally, you sigh, seeming to come to a decision. “No, you haven’t,” you tell him at last. “I mean, I’m still trying to process everything and sort it all out, but… it means a lot that you wanted to have this conversation.” A note of humor slips into your voice, and the twinkle in your eyes makes a very welcome reappearance. “I mean, you waited for me in the parking lot like a stalker, so that says something. Not sure what.”

Colt laughs out loud at that, all the intense pressure of the night lessening with your words. “I thought about camping outside your hotel, but I thought it might be a little much.”

“Yeah, it would have been,” you agree, scuffing your shoes on the pavement.

Colt feels like the weight of the entire world has been lifted off his shoulders, but he knows he has to keep handling this the right way if he doesn’t want to risk hurting you again.

“So, are we okay?” he asks sincerely.

You nod, smoothing your hair back and closing your eyes while you think about your response. “Yeah. Yeah, we are. Just… getting some closure and some straight-shooting takes a lot of stress out of this.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Colt agrees. “I’m just sorry it took me so long to shoot it straight with you.”

If you can really call this shooting straight.

You shake your head, raising your eyes to meet his again. “No, I should have been more upfront, too,” you admit. “It would have saved me a lot of trouble.”

Colt’s first reaction is to argue, to insist that you haven’t done a single thing wrong, that this whole tangle has been caused by his inability to let go of the feelings he has for you, but he knows it’s best to let that go. Better to end on a positive note.

“Friends?” he asks tentatively.

“Friends.” You grin at him, obviously as relieved as he is to have mended your relationship.

Great, just friends again. Exactly what we wanted. Colt elects to ignore his inner monologue this time.

With the tension lifted at last, you heave a grand sigh and nudge his shoulder in the old familiar way, heading in the direction of the studio.

“So, where are you off to?” Colt asks you, falling in step beside you.

“Train station set,” you reply lightly. “Filming for that scene is supposed to start next week, so I’m scrambling trying to get everything finished. It’s the biggest set I’ve ever created from scratch, so it’s been a serious challenge.”

Colt grins down at you, nudging your shoulder with his the same way you just did. “I’m sure it’ll be amazing,” he assures you, meaning every word of it. “Your sets always are.”

You grin back up at him, your cheerfulness infectious. “What about you? Any big stunts today?”

“Nah, just rehearsing some choreography for a fight scene. Easier schedule for the rest of this week.”

“That’s good,” you respond. The art trailer, empty in these early morning hours, is coming into sight now. “Maybe you can stop throwing yourself off moving vehicles for awhile.”

Colt smirks. “Yeah, that’s the plan. Unless something crazy happens on my way to the gas station or something.”

“Oh, sure. You never know with a Citgo.”

The two of you share a laugh, and suddenly everything feels back to normal. Maybe it can never be completely normal again, but after the fears that kept Colt awake all night, this feels like he’s just stepped into paradise after being cast out.

“Hey, bad guys come in all shapes and sizes,” Colt informs you, feeling his sense of humor coming back full force. “Sometimes it’s a hard-boiled gangster chasing you on top of a transfer truck; sometimes it’s a plastic bag flying off the pavement and around your head.”

“Maybe that’s the real reason why recycling is so important,” you quip. A few more steps, and the two of you are standing at the door to the art trailer, the pink rays of sunrise beginning to touch the tops of your heads. “Well, here’s my stop. Thanks again for talking with me. It really means a lot.”

Colt nods, a genuine smile crossing his face. “I couldn’t let things be strained between us. Who would patch together the props I destroy in every take?” he teases you.

“Who would destroy the handmade props I painstakingly create every day?”

“Publicity stunts wouldn’t have been the same without you to critique my color coordinating choices.”

“I was really going to miss you sneaking me a packet of Mini Muffins every morning.”

“Consider the Mini Muffins sneaked.”

You grin at that, and Colt’s heart speeds up a few beats just at the sight. He’s glad to have this image — your captivating smile, framed by the pastel light of the sunrise, happiness sparkling in your eyes — to replace the one from last night.

You don’t say a word before turning to open the door to the art trailer, clearly needing some space, so Colt turns to walk away, but the door doesn’t close behind you. When he turns back to face you, you’re lingering in the doorway, an unreadable expression on your face. Colt hesitates, not sure what you expect from him, but he’s cut off by you closing the distance between the two of you and wrapping your arms around his neck.

What what what what what what WHAT WHAT WHAT—

Colt isn’t sure this is the best idea, but he certainly isn’t going to make the mistake of pushing you away again. Instead, he lets his arms fold around your waist, pulling you close against him. Every muscle in his body aches to hold you as tight as he can, and it takes all his self-control not to lift his head up a few inches, to whisper in your ear, You’re every sweet dream I’ve ever had. You’re everything I hoped love would turn out to be.

You don’t make a move to release him, and suddenly Colt realizes: this is your way of letting go of him. You’re taking one last moment to savor this closeness before you resign yourself to a simple friendship and an inevitable goodbye. With that realization, Colt grips you tighter, lets his face rest in the crook of your neck while he breathes you in.

The sun keeps rising, and still you hold onto each other as if this is the last time you’ll ever see each other.

Colt feels your arms loosen their hold around his neck slightly, and he takes that as a cue to release the death-grip he has around your waist. He didn’t realize he could feel your pounding heart against his chest until you’ve pulled back a few inches.

He’s surprised, though, when you don’t get go of him completely. You let your hands rest on his broad shoulders, your eyes searching his own for some answer that you can’t quite grasp. It’s as if you know he’s holding something back — as if you can tell how deeply he feels for you just by the way he stays absorbed in the warmth of your gaze.

A sad smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and you lift one hand to rest on the side of Colt’s face. His heart instantly starts rocketing again, and all he can imagine is that you’re finally going to go for the kiss that has almost happened three times now. He holds his breath, knowing that he can’t trust himself not to seize you and kiss you with all the passion he’s holding inside.

Your fingertips trace the side of his face slowly, intimately, traveling over his cheekbone, down his jaw, right under his lips. His skin feels like it’s burning from the inside, incinerating him with heat. He knows he’s still holding your waist too tight for someone who is “just a friend,” but holding you is the only thing keeping him sane right now.

Your gaze slips down for a fraction of a second, landing on the spot where your fingers are resting tenderly. Colt’s hands are shaking from the tension. All he can think of is how close your lips are to his, how effortless it would be to lean forward a few inches and live out the daydream he’s had a thousand times before. He doesn’t even blink, unwilling to miss a second of being this close to you again.

Finally, finally, you take mercy on him and lift your fingers from his face, your own expression betraying the level of affection you feel. Right now, all Colt wants to do is close his eyes and let you trail your fingers over his face for the rest of his life, but your touch is already gone, and he finally feels like he can breathe again.

You take an unhurried step back, your eyes never leaving his. Your hands slowly slide down from his shoulders, his letting go of your waist at the same time. The distance between you suddenly feels miles wide, and it’s quite obvious that both of you want to close it again.

But neither of you does.

“Okay,” you murmur, eyes drifting across his face. The early morning sunlight is dancing through the strands of your hair, alighting on the dust particles in the air to create a mystical glow around your face. “I should go.”

Colt barely even registers his own response, still so dazed from the past few moments. “Me, too.”

You take a step inside the art trailer door, eyes hazy. “See you later?”

“Of course.”

You give him one last soft smile and walk into the art trailer. But Colt stands in the light of the rising sun for a long time after you’ve gone.

#i think i need a minute to recover after writing this #every chapter i think “well that's as good as it gets” #but i keep thinking of new stuff :O #fanfiction #colt seavers x reader #colt seavers fanfiction #original #colt seavers #the fall guy #ryan gosling #ryan gosling fanfiction #the five times colt seavers almost kisses you (and the one time he does)

[anundyingfidelity]

BLIND COLORS — Dean Winchester

Summary: Dean finally makes a confession, but you don't feel the same way.

Pairing: Dean x female!asexual reader.

Word count: 1k.

Notes: this is part of @artyandink Jensen's drabble marathon. 🫶 as an ace girl I think it was good to start with an ace reader as well, I don't know if someone has wrote about this before but I just wanted to do it. This is based on my own personal experience as an ace and how I feel and see it, we're kind of ignored everywhere so just trying to make us more visible I guess? Hope I did it justice anyway and happy pride month to everyone! <3

GEN MASTERLIST!

If you’d like to be added, the taglist is here!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

There has been an unresolved tension between you and Dean. The only problem was that you didn't really notice that. But Sam, on the other hand, did, and he was wondering if you would ever realize how attracted to you his brother was.

It was just a case, like any other, that you were working on together. A poltergeist that had appeared in a small town you were driving near by and of course, you had to stop before at least you got home. The same things as always happening: going undercover, interviewing any witnesses, getting clues, reading some old stuff, calling Bobby for help...

So you found yourself invested on research with the Winchesters in complete, utter silence in their motel room. It was already dark and you had no dinner yet. You heard Sam turning off his laptop and getting up the couch until he walked towards you and Dean, sitting in the dinning table reading and marking stuff in old documents.

"It's late already, I'll go grab something to eat," Sam said, looking at you and then turning his gaze to his brother for more than a couple of seconds.

Dean shifted in his seat, realizing he had to be alone with you. Again.

During the past few weeks, Dean had been thinking on how to confess his feelings for you, and Sam was actually encouraging him to do it whenever it was fit. You were pretty chill with cases, even the difficult ones, and this was just another job for you. A love confession wouldn't harm, would it?

Thing was that Dean didn't want to ruin your friendship, and you seemed too naive to understand the subtext between his attempts at hitting on you and constant flirting, or the way he would remark suggestive things. You just laughed back at him and continued with your life, and maybe he had to do something.

He cleared his throat after his chain of thoughts, staring at you for a moment and then going back to Sam. "A cheese hamburger will work for me."

"I think a sandwich is good," you said. "Thanks."

"Alright, I'll be back soon," Sam announced and he gave a last glance at his brother, communicating in a way they only knew.

As always, you didn't pay attention to what was going on, instead, you went back to mark something in your notebook while checking an old file. Sam left the room and you were alone with Dean. Quickly, you were so invested on your notes that he began to think it was a bad idea. But he had to try.

"Hey, can I talk to you about something?" Dean asked. You lifted up your gaze to see him.

"Go ahead."

He shifted uncomfortably, but smiled nonetheless and pursed his lips in a tight line before speaking.

"I, uhm, I feel that I have to tell you that... I like you. Like a lot, a damn lot. We've known each other for years, and I- I don't know, it just happened. I'm very attracted to you and been trying to find a way for you to notice that, but I guess I might just have to tell you straight away."

The whole time his voice was calm and soft, and you found yourself looking directly into his deep, green eyes as he confessed. And then, you actually noticed the change in Dean. He stopped hooking with random women in bars, stopped flirting with them in front of you, and instead, he would flirt with you and then remark sexual stuff. But you didn't see him that way, at least not the sex part. For you, it was almost irrelevant, even though Dean was a very handsome man you just couldn't bring yourself to feel sexually attracted to him, nor anyone.

"Dean, I like you but... Is not like that for me," you said in a whisper.

He blinked a couple of times as his softened eyes remained on yours. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not... I'm not sexually attracted to you. Or anyone, is just- I don't know how to explain it, but sex isn't everything to me. I just don't get to feel it," you began, but afraid he might judge you, you continued. "Is like I'm blind to a color, I can't see it. I can't see the point on that, and I cannot give it to you if that's what you're looking for."

Dean had a look on his face you couldn't decode. You knew he wasn't probably used to being turned down, but it was the truth. You never really fit into that. He finally gave a nod, slowly with a soft smile.

"Okay, I understand that. I just wanted you to know, I'm sorry, I didn't want to mess up our friendship."

"You didn't, trust me. I think you're the first person to not judge what I feel anyway," you said, smiling as well but looking away.

"Why would I do that? It's your choice, I mean, is perfectly fine."

"It's not really a choice for me, you know, I can't feel it. Really, it never has grown in me, and a lot of people have judged me for that... I don't need to find the right person to feel like a complete woman, is just who I am and that's alright."

Dean smiled more for himself this time. That was the reason he liked you so much. You didn't give a crap about anything and you were just you, and he loved that from you.

"I understand that. You being you is what has drawn me to you," he said and you chuckled softly. Even when you turned him down, he would still try. "I'd like to know more about it, if it's okay."

"You'd like to?" you asked with a playful voice, and sounding surprised. "Really?"

He shrugged. "I've met gays, lesbians, trans people who are great... What's with understanding one more?"

"Right," you nodded. "We don't really fit the norm, do we?"

"You don't have to. I told you, I like you like this," he said, proudly.

There was a heat covering your cheeks at how he looked at you. Maybe you didn't experience a physical attraction in regard to sex, but how about falling in love with someone? You had such a long time without letting your feelings flourish.

"Thank you, I like you a lot too."

Dean taglist (some of them I can't tag them sorry :/)

@thesilmarillionblog

@onlyangel-444

@daisy-the-quake

@jackles010378

@cassieriddle713

@deans-spinster-witch

@feyresqueen

@drasticemotions

@stoneyggirl2

@sapnaploves

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x asexual reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x ace reader

[dollmaidcrystal]

During a period when Mistress was too focused on work to play with her submissives, I became too tight for her to comfortably fit two fingers into. As punishment, I've been assigned to train on the Motorbunny Buck, Mistress's fucking machine of choice, daily for a month.

Day 1: Is this supposed to be a punishment? This doesn't seem like a punishment at all.

Day 2: I'm already tired of having to run an extra load on the dishwasher every day, since it has the all-important "Sanitize" cycle for cleaning up the Motorbunny attachments.

Day 3: Daily training is starting to pay off. That last session felt good. Really good.

Day 4: Riding the fucking machine is not the punishment, it's having to clean up afterwards every day. I asked Mistress if I could have permission to move the Motorbunny to next to the guest showers. (She said no.)

Day 5: Barely avoided disaster today. I forgot to lock up the door to the dungeon when the municipal water inspector came by to look around the basement. Fortunately, I spotted my mistake while he was still taking his boots off upstairs.

Day 6: Skip day. Mistress was home from work, and she called "dibs".

Day 7: Experimented more with the higher vibration settings today and probably overdid it. I’m going to have to take it easy for the next few days while my poor sissy booty heals.

Day 8: Switched from the spiral dildo to the precision probe. Today's training consists of trying to find exactly where all of my spots are.

Day 9: Skip day. I had a doctor's appointment. Real life takes priority!

Day 10: To make up for skipping a day, I switched to the larger Doc Johnson attachment. It was too large to ride, so I had to use the vertical wedge stand to be taken from behind. Taking something that large felt sooo good.

Day 11: Oh crap. While moving the Motorbunny back upright, I heard a crack. The plastic casing of the adapter plug cracked in half. I jury rigged back together (with some scary sparks!), but that is going to be a problem.

Day 12: A warranty replacement for the adapter is already on its way. I am more impressed by the customer service than how good I felt after today's session.

Day 13: Skip day. Mistress came home from work early because she was feeling sick. My time was spent taking care of her and lecturing her about the importance of diet and daily exercise. Writing this down in my punishment journal, I'm glad she was too sick to notice the irony.

Day 14: After some experimentation, the Motorbunny hits my spots best if I’m leaning all the way forward or arching backwards. I'm pretty sure I should stick to arching back in photosets.

Day 15: Mistress is still sick, which makes these daily training sessions extra hard. When she's healthy, I know that riding the fucking machine is a warmup for being played with later, but now I know it's going to leave me extra frustrated for the rest of the day.

Day 16: I’m starting to crave something in my mouth during these daily rides. I’m not sure how to deal with that. Maybe I should bring a box of Triscuits to the dungeon tomorrow? Will that work?

Day 17: Bringing a ball gag down to the dungeon definitely helps with my oral cravings, but I feel kind of silly doing it. It doesn’t help that 🐶 is staring at me like he’s judging my technique at chewing a ball. "Bloody amateur can't even keep in in her mouth without a safety strap."

Day 18: Mistress had some time to personally supervise my training today. The splash image on this post comes from this session.

Day 19: The warranty replacement adapter just arrived! I think I'll leave the broken one in place and keep the new one as a backup. I said it once, and I'll say it again: I am seriously impressed by the level of customer service Motorbunny has.

Day 20: Pondering upgrades to the Motorbunny using the Bondage Erector Set. Reflective Desires has so many ideas that I want to steal.

Day 21: The cursed LureVibe fucking bear is now making the rounds. I wonder if I should upgrade from Motorbunny to Motorbear. https://lurevibe.com/products/doll-automatic-thrusting-vibrating-swing-machine-female-masturbation-device

Day 22: Mistress is upset that most of the pictures she took makes me look hunchbacked. I need to find a way to ride the Motorbunny that's more photogenic, apparently.

Day 23: Gross! I accidentally put another layer of condom and lube on the attachment and didn’t peel it off before washing. Now I have a layer of cooked on dry lube to scrub off my dildo.

Day 24: I can't figure out how to advance my training. Mistress wants me to train to be penetrated at a wider variety of angles (instead of the one that feels really, really good but looks awful on camera). What even is the best to train for that? Wiggle around on the dildo every day?

Day 25: Following a friend’s advice, I’m trying yoga on the Motorbunny to improve my range of positions. This is a weird experience, and not just because of how hard it is to hold a stretch while being fucked.

Day 26: Skip day. After Pride Weekend, I can't move.

Day 27: Flexibility training continues. I’ve learned I’m not going to be able to move which spots feel good, but I can move the rest of my body. Biggest bang for my buck seems to be in getting more dramatic back arches, followed by working on my range of leg motion.

Day 28: Taking a break from trying to improve my form. Instead, I'm putting in the thickest attachment I can handle and enjoying the ride.

Day 29: I'm putting off today's training to edit and post this punishment journal. I'm hitting post now so I can get back to training.

#rubberdoll #24/7 d/s #d/s real life #sissy sub

[kremlin]

it really is alarming how bizzare and erratic and nonsensical my behaviors and actions have become and how much of a complete weirdo i am, not in a fun quirky way nor a dangerous and mentally ill way, it is certainly negative and probably a symptom of much more pedestrian but nonetheless very serious problems like a lifelong hardcore drug addiction and lifestyle that would make a doctors eyes pop out of his skull. i haven’t exactly been to a statistically significant number of psychotherapists to make a sample size but certainly a good amount of them, the more straightforward ones have admitted they do not know which direction to go anymore and all of them licensed to write prescriptions have stated that my issues are not something medication is suitable or feasible to address. when i wrote that post a few weeks ago about how my life has been a failure despite zero hardship and every possible advantage, i don’t think i made it clear that this isn’t upsetting from a “boo hoo i am sad” perspective but a “i could have absolutely and meaningfully contributed to society with my skills but i didn’t”. those words i wrote were absolutely true and after re-read and consideration things might be even fucking darker, the only fucking thing i want anymore, more than i’ve wanted anything in my entire life, is my own family and it’ll never happen for categories of reasons, you can’t be a deadbeat junkie and expect to have a healthy family, you cannot treat people the way i treat people and expect them to just put up with it forever, you cannot expect to meet women that are going to love you and want to start a family being in the shape i am and *certainly* not women that are able to have kids and still roughly around my age. it would be frankly a seriously unethical move to waste their time frankly because even a basic relationship probably won’t work out.

i’ve never in my life been as social and outgoing and fun as i am right now, never been closer to my parents and extended family, and never felt this lonely by a mile, even when i was in school and would go months without a meaningful non-coursework non-job-related interaction with someone.

it’s so fucking frightening and i am so sick of being this miserable and i don’t know what the fuck to do about it and the closer i look the blurrier it gets. this is a new thing in my life, i’ve never really even been upset for longer than 3 days. i think before this last year. i don’t know if what happened last autumn just completely broke me or the camels back. and please for the love of god do not think for a moment i am about to do the things usually suspected of people who say things like i am saying because i am not and feel embarrassed that i have to write that.

[jesterofcringe]

I can't take it anymore- Is that an exit door? [Liminal space au] Natalie x Reader

this follows the rules of the backrooms except i have no idea how the backrooms work and didnt feel like writing the entities so its liminal spaces instead :3 i love writing cringe can you tell also people who sent in requests im working on em now they'll be out soon 😋👍 ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

★It all started because you were messing around with Natalie and it, once again, got you two in trouble.

★It started with a shove, which turned into a couple of light punches, which turned into a whole play fight. 

★Natalie pushed you hard enough to knock you over, and in trying to save yourself you instinctively grabbed her shirt and the both of you went crashing into the wall.

★Except you didn’t.

★The two of you fell for far too long, as if the wall was never there. Finally, you landed with a splash, your entire body submerged in water.

★You had crashed into a wall, and now you were submerged in water. Because that totally made sense.

★In a panic you scrambled to your feet, rubbing the water out of your eyes. When you opened them, you saw you were in a subway system, water flooded up to your knees.

★Everything got more confusing the more you made an effort to understand what was going on.

★Natalie’s hand shot out and grabbed your arm, “Are… are you seeing this too??”

★“Yeah…” You nodded slow “…I think so.”

★“Subway station, balls deep with water?”

★“Mhm.”

★“Could we like, be hallucinating the same thing?”

★You kicked up the water, splashing her, “Would we be able to feel a hallucination?”

★A heavy silence blanketed the two of you as you shivered and tried to figure out what the hell just happened.

★“Fuck.”

★Natalie started to walk away from you, and you instantly followed after her.

★“Where are you going?”

★“It’s freezing. Hallucination or not we can’t just stay here.”

★She reached back and offered you a hand, which you took in one of your own. Somehow, her fingers were colder than the water.

★Ever since then, nothing really made sense anymore. 

★At the end of the subway there was a door. A door with a faint glow around it. That was the only thing that stayed consistent. A door was always there and it always brought you somewhere new, no matter how different than the last. After the subway station it was a movie theater. Following that was a shopping mall, and an empty parking lot after that one. The doors brought you just about anywhere. You had seen more Walmarts than you cared to admit.

★That wasn’t even the weirdest part. No matter where you were, there was absolutely never any people. Entire amusement parks, attractions moving and all, completely abandoned by human life... Did humanity vanish, or did you?

★“Do you think the rest of the yellowjackets are looking for us?

★It was a random ass question. The last door you guys passed through led you into a gas station and the two of you were in the middle of stuffing a backpack you found with as much resources as you could. Despite thinking Natalie's question was somewhat out of the blue, you couldn't deny the fact that you had been thinking about the same thing.

★“I hope so.”

★ She tossed you a pair of flashlights and a candy bar, “What do you think they’re saying about us?”

★“Probably think we ran away and got married in secret.” You shrugged as you attempted to stuff some bubble gum in the front pocket.

★“At this point we may as well," She ripped open a bag of fruit gummies and offered you some, which you politely declined, "It’s not like we’re ever gonna get out of here.”

★You didn't appreciate the implications of never finding your way out, but you didn't mind the idea of becoming somewhat romantic with Natalie, even if it was due to the fact you two seemed to be likely to die together whether you were romantic or not.

★It was hard to keep track of the days. If you had to guess, it had been a few months. It felt a lot longer than that, though. Time was sort of distorted, although the first few weeks you were obsessed with trying to track how long the two of you had been trapped. Natalie was able to tell the whole concept of time was starting to drive you a bit mad, and the next time the doors brought you some place high up she chucked her watch as far as she could so you would stop staring at it.

★"What the hell Natalie! We needed that!"

★"Knowing the time isn't going to get us out of here! You staying sane, will!"

★You had to really get lucky with the places you ended up. Sometimes you went without food for weeks, sometimes you ended up in places with enough resources to provide for the next eighty years. You never stayed even though you knew you should. You were absolutely desperate to get out. Natalie on the other hand, came to terms with the whole thing surprisingly quick. She was very level headed, her calmness rubbing off on you whenever you started to work yourself up.

★“You’re delusional dude, you need sleep.”

★“I don’t wanna sleep, we need to keep going.”

★“We can keep going tomorrow.”

★“But-“

★“We. Can. Keep. Going. Tomorrow.”

★There was a time you ended up in an elementary school when the both of you were exhausted. You were both too tired to realize you had been walking through the same place every time you found the door. When you eventually did realize it after the third time, Natalie said fuck It, and you ended up spooning on the couch in the front lobby of the school.

★[The next morning the door you passed through led you to a mattress store. You didn’t know who you wanted to kill more, the doors or Natalie. The cuddles were pretty nice though, so you couldn’t stay mad at her.]

#the title is from digital hallucination by or3o btw #behave yourselves or i WILL write a tadc au /j #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets x reader #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x y/n #natalie scatorccio x reader