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ashes-writing · 1 year

Text

stranger things ● can't fight this feeling ● s.harrington

warning

angsty!Steve in the beginning, flirtatious!coquette reader, neighbors to lovers, high school drama and angst, no sci fi or upside down this is a total AU, underage smoking, alcohol and 🍃 + house parties and eventual filth / PDA ( for my readers who aren't a fan you're warned now ahead of time), Steve finally wins a fight it's happening at some point, teeeny hints of a rivalry between Billy / Steve but Steve is bae so he will win, swearing, sarcasm. mentions of both steve and reader having similar but totally different home lives and steve's parents are.. old money snobby.

<- female reader warning ( personified a fair bit, clothing / hair / body parts and loads of personality so this one isn't as vague sorry babes this is me being ✨ self indulgent ✨ to a degree )

word count

7670 words exactly. I uh.. got carried away, oopsies.

( i'm on my bullshit.. again. there was a lot of groundwork to set bc this is deffo going to be a series. )

summary

he's fresh off a breakup with Nancy and he's not looking. but then you move in next door and he's entirely too aware. will either of you be able to fight your feelings?

( traaash. summary is trash. song inspo / title is can't fight this feeling by REO Speedwagon cos it kinda fits, esp the 'my life has been a whirlwind since I saw you' line. trust me on this. )

taglist

-- taglist here if you want to be tagged in my works please lmk or add yourself. otherwise, i don't tag.also, also.. if anyone who joined my ST list for strictly gareth fics wanna be removed from my other nonsense lmk please?

@tbmunson - bestie i luhh you. i had to tag you in this because you're my inspiration. feel free to ignore though, babes.

@allelitesmut

@chaoticcancer

@cursethememory

@dylanwritesgood

@just-a-blue-nerd

@music4life42

@slyisbehindyou

other links

masterlist ● steve's masterlist ● about + rules

Rain drizzles down the window of the classroom as Steve Harrington stares out, bored. He’s barely listening, his mind’s a million miles away. Replaying the talk he had with the guidance counselor about college and the importance of it in his head.

The door to the classroom opens with a tired creak, slowly. He tears his eyes off the gray drizzle outside to glance over and he watches as you walk in, stopping by the teacher’s desk. You happen to glance his way and the second you do this, he’s lost in your eyes for a few seconds. You’re the one who looks down first. Beside him, he can hear Carol and Nicole whispering back and forth, he catches bits of it and rolls his eyes.

If he needed a reminder as to why he stopped being friends with Carol and Tommy, the fact that she’s already talking about you and she doesn’t even know you is a good one. Carol snickers quietly, nodding to the front of the classroom at you as she tells Nicole, “She’s gonna get dress coded for that little dress of hers by the end of the day. Only sluts wear that kind of stuff.” and Nicole whispers back, “Carol, that’s mean. You’re not wrong though. I bet she’s easy.”

By now, you’ve clocked the two girls whispering back and forth as they steal glances at you and you want to laugh but you can’t. You’re almost willing to bet that they’re whispering back and forth about the pastel pink slip dress you’re wearing beneath your favorite soft cardigan with the hood and flared sleeves. Honestly, the fact that you’ve only been at Hawkins High for a total of ten minutes now and you’re already being talked about is something you find amusing.

The teacher is still looking over your schedule and as he does, you shuffle your feet against the speckled tiles. Glancing around the classroom.

The first set of gazes you meet are the two girls who are making no secret that they’re talking about you. You smirk at both and when the redhead looks you up and down and mouths the word slut, you shrug.

It’s nothing you haven’t heard before and honestly, you stopped letting anything anybody else says or thinks about you get to you a long time ago.

The next person your eyes settle on is the guy sitting right beside the window with an olive colored Members Only jacket. He looks like a classroom is the last place he wants to be and he’s twisting a black ink pen around in between his fingers until he looks up and right at you.

You can’t help but stare. His hand raises and fingers drag through effortlessly styled brown hair and your eyes catch on the movement for a split second but then they’re moving downward. Settling briefly on the prettiest lips you’ve ever seen on a boy, hands down. You bite your own lip for a second or two and you can feel a slow heat rise from the pit of your stomach, blossoming out over your cheeks and settling in the tips of your ears. He’s still staring, you can’t tell whether it’s amusement, curiosity or boredom, maybe it’s a mix of all three playing in doe eyes as he continues to stare. You shift from one foot to the other and your hand raises, catching in the long thick mess you call hair. Lingering there as you let a slow and soft smile slowly play at your lips.

The trance you’re in is broken by the teacher speaking. First to you, “You can take the empty seat in front of Steve Harrington.” and you nod. Then the teacher addresses that same boy you’ve only just managed to take your eyes off of because you were so mesmerized.

Which is dumb, you think to yourself, because I know how guys are. And he looks like the very kind to break your heart and probably laugh about it.

You shove the thought out of your head.

“Mr. Harrington, since you’re not taking one of your naps today, mind raising your hand so that our new student can find her desk, sir?”

There’s quiet laughter among the other students and you catch a glimpse of Steve as a hint of pink creeps into his cheeks and he gives the teacher a dirty look while slowly raising his hand.

You make your way over to your new seat and you’re settling in. The teacher tells you what page he’s reading from and you realize there’s no book at your desk so you speak up. “I don’t have a book.”

“You can share with Mr. Harrington. Maybe if he’s sharing a book he’ll actually pay attention for once.” the teacher shoots Steve a pointed look and Steve grumbles to himself but he moves to the empty seat beside your seat, the one normally occupied by some girl named Andrea. He pushes the seat closer to yours and sets the textbook so that it’s between you so you can see it and read along.

You give him this shy little smile and he gives you a weak one. Half-hearted, because Steve Harrington doesn’t smile that much these days.

As he settles into the seat he’s moved so that it’s beside your own, the sultry sweet scent of vanilla and a hint of something fruity envelopes the air around you both and when you lean in a little to read the page as he flips it, your movement sends it wafting towards him all over again.

Your hair brushes against his bare arm and he shifts in his seat slightly. You glance up at him apologetically and a few strands of hair swoop down into your eyes. He shrugs off the apology and goes back to reading. Or attempting to read.

You’re almost hyper aware of the boy sitting next to you, the powdery musk of his designer cologne thick in the air as you catch yourself stealing another glance of his side profile, sharp facial features, the faintest hint of a five o’clock shadow. When you feel his eyes set on you again, you quickly drop your gaze to feign interest in the same paragraph you’ve been reading for almost a whole minute by this point.

You uncross your legs to cross them again the opposite way. He moves to flip the page to the next one and this time, his forearm brushes right against the soft flared sleeve of the cardigan you’re wearing that nearly covers your pastel pink slip dress.

The air is thick, getting thicker by the second. And you catch yourself stealing a look at the clock over the blackboard because you almost can’t breathe properly and you’re wondering how long until the bell rings and you can rush out of class, go find a bathroom and collect yourself.

Steve’s gaze shifts to the clock and he takes a deep breath. There’s only ten more minutes left to class. The teacher finishes reading and closes his book, gazing out into the classroom. “You may choose someone to work with to complete the worksheet.”

You close the textbook and you’re assuming that he’ll move, abandon you to go work with friends or something. Honestly, you’re not in a hurry to find someone to work with, the equations on the worksheet are something you previously covered at your last school so you know you can struggle through and finish them on your own. ,, and I don’t need anybody to work with anyway, I’m better off alone.” the thought comes but it’s quickly shoved out of your head. You pick up your pencil and start working, despite the fact that Steve hasn’t moved back to his normal seat.

“You’re doing it wrong.” Steve speaks up after about ten or fifteen seconds of watching you bite your lip and glare at the paper in front of you, writing in numbers and erasing them. He clears his throat and nods to the worksheet in front of you. You look up at him and your tongue outlines glossy pink lips. He lets his eyes linger for a second or two before taking your pencil and the worksheet. And he calmly explains exactly what you’re missing to solve the problem.

“You have to divide first.” he tells you and you nod. You take the pencil from him when he holds it out to you and you make an attempt at doing the next one on your own, but you wind up annoyed. Letting the pencil fall to the desk.

“Math isn’t.. It’s not my thing. I hate numbers.” you admit quietly. Steve looks up from his half-complete worksheet and over to yours. Then he looks at you. “I can help you.. If you want me to, I mean.”

“Please?” you’re giving him this little pout, begging with your eyes. He chuckles and bites his lip as he trains his eyes on your worksheet. “Okay, I see what’s happening. Okay, this is what you need t’do.” he takes the pencil again and he’s going through each step with you. Every now and then he’ll drag his hand through his hair or pause and rub the back of his neck and your eyes are glued to his hands each time. “Okay, do you understand now?” he questions and you bring yourself out of your little daze to nod. Give him a little smile. “Math isn’t really my thing, but I think I get what you’re saying.”

He chuckles quietly. Goes back to finishing off his own worksheet quietly and after a little more struggling on your end, you finish your worksheet. Everyone else is still working for the most part.

You glance around the classroom for a few seconds to make sure nobody is looking and you slip the pack of gum out. You take a piece for yourself and unwrap it, popping it into your mouth. Then you gently tap Steve on the bicep and when he looks up, you nod to his hands.

His brow raises. You carefully slip the fat square of gum beneath the hand he has resting against the desk, your hands brushing. He sucks in a breath and feels annoyed with himself for the simple fact that even the slightest hint of physical contact is amplified because it’s just so rare that he’s touched or touching anybody else as of late.

It’s not a big deal and he tells himself that.

The bell to end class rings and you rise from your seat, gathering your books and shoving them down into your backpack, slinging that carelessly over one shoulder. Steve realizes that you left a paperback behind on top of the desk you were sitting in so he picks it up and wanders out into the hallway, glancing up and then down, brown eyes scanning the busy crowd of students until he spots you at some lockers down the hall just a little. You’re leaning against a locker with a little silver compact mirror in your hand and you’re reapplying your favorite flavored gloss to your lips.

He makes his way over and you lock eyes with him in the reflection of your little silver mirror just as you’re finishing your touch-up. You give him another soft little smile and close the compact, turning to face him. It puts you body to body and you marvel at the difference in your heights. The way he towers over you and the way the polo shirt he’s wearing cuffs tight against his biceps. As the hallway gets more crowded, you’re forced at one point to step into him and when you do this, you brush against him just barely and Steve swallows hard.

“Sorry.” you mumble, a softness to your voice when you speak. He tears his focus off that and holds out your paperback, hints of a teasing smirk on his face as you feel your cheeks flame up the second you realize you left your current read sitting behind beneath the desk in class.

You want the floor to open up and swallow you right then and there. Your gaze settles on the thick and well-read paperback he’s holding out to you, the picture of a bare chested pirate standing at the helm of a ship with long dark hair blown out in the breeze emblazoned across the front has you swallowing hard. And there’s this teasing gleam in Steve’s eyes as he chuckles. “I think this is yours.”

“Uh huh.” is all you can manage to get out for some reason. And you’re annoyed at yourself for this. You pluck the book out of his hand and you shove it into your locker once you’ve opened it. Steve’s started to walk away and you steal a quick glance as he disappears into a classroom.

When you have to lean against the locker and breathe in, breathe out to pull yourself together, you grow even more annoyed with yourself. “Jesus christ. He’s just a boy.” you fan yourself and beside you, there’s laughter.

“He’s not even that good looking if you want the honest truth. And his kind.. They think they own the school.”

You’re red-faced when you meet the other girl’s gaze. Biting your lip, you nod in agreement. “Yeah. I kind of thought that’d be the case. Usually is with the pretty ones.”

Robin laughs softly. “I’m Robin. What’s your name?”

“___.”

“You’re new, huh?”

You nod. “Today is my first day.”

Robin smiles at you. “Prepare to be bored out of your skull. I’ve gotta get going. I’ll uh.. I’ll see you around?”

You smile back at her and nod. “Yeah. It’s a small school.” you keep it casual. Careful. Because getting too close isn’t something you’re good at. It’s not something you do well with and every single time you do, it winds up being a complete disaster. As she wanders off to her next class, you consult your schedule.

You’re wandering the hallway, in no hurry despite the fact that you know damn well the tardy bell is about to ring and you need to be making an effort to find your next class. As you turn a corner, you find yourself body to body with another boy. He’s not as tall and he looks more than a little overconfident. Blue eyes flit over you, taking you in. He’s chewing spearmint gum, this mixes with the faintest hint of cigarette and you bite your lip, looking him right in the eyes. It’s cheeky. Defiant. He chuckles.

“Hey. Haven’t seen you around before. I’m Billy.”

“___. You haven’t seen me because I’m new. Do you mind?” you’re staring over his shoulder because he happens to be standing right in front of the door you need to go through to get to your next class. Instead of moving, he leans in the doorway. Blocking your entrance. He chuckles. “Oh? You’re in this class too?”

You nod. He steps out of the door and makes a show about letting you go in first. You ignore his theatrics and slink into the room, presenting the teacher with your schedule and gazing around the room as the teacher writes your name down in her grade book. You wind up sitting at the same dual desk that Billy’s assigned to and you can feel him staring at you through class.

You look up a time or two because the weight of his stare is just that heavy.

Somewhere in the middle of class, he slips you a note.

← i’m kind of new here too.

← you smell amazing, by the way. Sweet.

You let your palm settle over the note and slip it across the desk so that it’s in front of your space. Your eyes dance over the words and you can’t help but roll them as soon as you read what he’s written about your scent. It’s the perfume, it gets you a lot of compliments. Surprising for a cheap perfume, but it’s your signature scent now, you haven’t worn anything else since freshman year.

You tap your pink pen against the desktop for a few seconds before responding.

→ Fascinating. I lived in the next town over. Where’d you move here from?

→ Thanks?

There’s not much else to say. You’ve got no real desire to ask him about himself, he strikes you as the type who won’t shut up about himself once you give him an opening to talk. Very much egotistical. Not what you’re into at all.

You slip the note back towards him and his hand settles over your hand for just a second or two, settling on top of it so you can’t pull away. It’s annoying, really.

A definite contrast to the way your two accidental brushes against the hand of Steve Harrington in your first class felt. But you’re shoving that one out as quickly as it invades your brain.

Because you’re better off alone. It’s been proven time and time again for you. Made worse by the fact that since your mom’s death, your own father can’t even stand to be around you. You know he loves you, you know he’s grieving but he’s shut you out completely.

You tear yourself out of your own thoughts and lick your lips, training your eyes on the torn slip of paper. You slip it back over to your side of the desk.

← There’s a party tonight. You should come.

← I can show you around.

You glance over at him, chewing your gum. He’s already staring when you look up and as a result, you make it a point to look down. Picking up your favorite pink pen, you start to scrawl out a response.

→ Can’t. My friends are coming over.

→ I’ll figure it out. Thanks anyway.

You push the torn slip of paper back to him and turn your attention to the worksheet you’ve just been handed by the teacher. This class is another subject you’re not so good at but you’re determined that you’ll struggle in silence. Because you want as little to do with the boy sitting beside you as possible, truth be told. You’re just not into the whole aura of dominance that you’re getting off him.

It reminds you too much of the last boy you dated. The one who kept pushing you into things you weren’t ready for and didn’t want.

Billy rubs his chin thoughtfully and he steals another look at you as you sit beside him, glaring at the worksheet as you uncross your legs and cross them again. You’ve taken off the high platform shoes you were wearing, they’re discarded below your chair. You twist a strand of hair around your finger as you focus on your work.He leans in a little, nodding to the worksheet. “I can help you.”

“I’m fine.” you answer quick. He frowns to himself as soon as you’ve looked away. You’re the first girl that hasn’t fallen at his feet in months and he’s at a loss about it. He’s also determined to change this.

“You’ve got your square drawn wrong.”

You glance up and over at Billy, the end of your pen rested against the center of your bottom lip. “I’ll figure it out later.” you answer.

“Fine. I’m trying to help.” Billy raises his hands and gives you his best good guy smile. You barely acknowledge it, looking back down at the worksheet in front of you instead. The second the bell rings you’ve gathered your books and you’re out the door before Billy even has the chance to catch you. You glance back to find him flanked by the two girls in your first class, both of them whispering and staring at you intently.. Again.

You roll your eyes and turn your head back to the front of you so that you can actually see where you’re going but you don’t do it soon enough and you collide into Steve. Steve’s hands shoot out, resting against your upper arms to steady you and he chuckles. “You’re in a hurry.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I should’ve been paying attention.” you mumble because yet again, you’re mesmerized. You shake your head and laugh softly at yourself. “Trying to get away from this guy in my class.”

Steve chuckles. Has the passing thought that this is something that probably happens to you a lot. Wonders to himself if it has anything at all to do with the way you carry yourself without realizing it, because it took him all of five minutes in the class he had with you earlier to quickly figure out that you’re one of those girls who carries herself like a little flirt and it’s completely unintentional for the most part.

Like, you’re completely unaware of it.

Because if he weren’t a thousand percent sure there was no way in hell you were flirting with you, if this had been last year, he’d have already put the moves on you.

,, but you’re not that guy anymore.” he reminds himself, ,, and you’re better off not getting close or attached because the one time you did was a disaster.”

“This guy have a name?” Steve asks. Surprised by the surge of jealousy that rises to the surface quick when you laugh and roll your eyes as you say the name of the guy in question. “Yeah. His name is Billy.”

“The guy’s a douchebag.” Steve steps up into you because he sees Billy rounding the corner, flanked by Carol and Nicole. Tommy’s walking in front of the three of them, facing away from the flow of hallway traffic like an asshole.

Your gaze flits to the group as they make their way past but it’s only because Steve was already glancing their way and you were curious about where he was looking. Billy locks eyes with you and a smirk plays at peachy lips. “Hey Harrington, I see you met ___.”

Carol rolls her eyes and coughs to cover “Slut.” when she passes you.

“ When a house lands on that bitch I want to be there.” you mumble, a response to hearing what she said and tried to cover. You shake your head and laugh it off and Steve is glaring at their retreating backs. “Ignore her. She’s jealous of pretty much everybody.”

“I picked up on that in first.” you admit, laughing softly. You tilt your head to the side slightly, gazing up at Steve. You haven’t bothered to step away from him and he finally realizes that he’s still got his hands against your upper arms, so he lowers them, slipping them into the pockets of his olive colored jacket. He steps away first, leaning against his locker. “So uh… what class do you have now?”

“Home Ec?” you dig around for the schedule you spent the parts of first class that you weren’t stealing glances at him doodling all over and you find it, holding it out to him. Steve takes the paper and chuckles, raising a hand to rest it against the back of his head. “C’mon. Your class is down the hall from mine. I’ll help you find it.”

Wordlessly, you fall in beside him, wandering down the hall. Neither of you are saying anything to each other. As you pass up Nancy’s locker in the hallway, Nancy watches as Steve walks past with you. She notes the way you tuck yourself into his side when the hallway gets a little too crowded. She catches you when you steal a glance up at him and it lingers right as the two of you are almost past the locker she’s standing in front of. She notices the way you’re biting your lip while you’re staring and all of this prompts her to gently nudge her new boyfriend Jonathan, nodding to your retreating backs.

Jonathan follows his girlfriend’s gaze.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?”

“I don’t know. But I do think she’s into him. Who was she?”

Jonathan shrugs. “Not a single clue.”

But Nancy’s curious now. And she’s sensing the potential to fix the mess she made when she broke up with Steve a few months ago.

“You’re getting an idea.. Aren’t you?”

“Maybe?” Nancy laughs softly as she says it and Jonathan chuckles. “Leave it alone, Nance.”

But she doesn’t want to because she owes Steve.. Something. She feels horrible about the way things ended. Cheating on him even though it’s not what she set out to do.

She hates the way things ended and she’s really hated seeing him the way he is now, all distant and closed off. Shut down.

Steve spots the door to the Home Ec classroom. He nods to it. “There you are.”

You’re lingering in the doorway, almost body to body. “Thanks. I’ll see you around.” you give him another little smile and you turn, making your way into the classroom. As Steve turns to walk away, he finds himself almost nose to nose with Billy Hargrove, who promptly chuckles. Nods to the door you just walked through. “You can’t handle a girl like that, Harrington. You couldn’t even handle that little mouse you got dumped by. What was her name again?”

Steve rolls his eyes.

“I was walking her to class.”

“Sure you were. If you’re smart, Harrington.. You’ll leave her alone.”

“Maybe you’re the one who should do that, Billy.” and Steve has to check himself, he’s not even sure why he’s getting worked up over it to start with, it’s not like you’re his girl. He doesn’t have any right.

All he knows is that you were in a big hurry to get away from Billy Hargrove not even ten minutes ago and that alone tells him you’re not interested in Billy.

,, And she’s not your girl so this isn’t your business.” his brain reminds, only to have him ignore it because he’s sick and fucking tired of the way Billy’s taken over since his arrival back in October.

He’s not jealous, he’s just annoyed. Irritated.

The guy’s an asshole and everyone seems to flock to that.

Billy chuckles. “That’s not gonna happen, Harrington. You into her or something?” Billy’s taunting him, a menacing gleam in baby blue eyes as he steps just a little closer. “That what this is, Harrington?”

“Nope. I just know for a fact that she was in such a hurry to escape you that she ran into me.” Steve’s standing taller. Studying Billy with an annoyed look on his face and his arms folded over his chest. Billy makes himself taller. Smirks at Steve. “She’s gonna end up with me. I’m pretty good at getting what I want.”

Steve chuckles. Shrugs it off. “Whatever, Hargrove. I really don’t care.”

It’s a lie, he’d rather eat glass before admitting just how much the thought of Billy making yet another girl fall at his feet annoys him, but he’s determined to stick through it.

“Stay away from her, Harrington.” Billy calls out the warning as Steve walks away, not even bothering to stop and look back or challenging him.

Because if it happens, it happens. All he’s currently trying to do is finish out his senior year and graduate. Get on with his life. Nothing matters anymore.

–

You wander into your new house, pausing at the door to slip off your shoes and put down your backpack, slip out of your favorite cardigan and hang it neatly on the coat hanger. You close the door behind you and wander over to your father’s state of the art stereo, turning it on and tuning it to the local rock station you prefer and then from there, you wander into the kitchen, sifting through the mail that’s sat on the counter, discarding everything but your catalogs as you wander over and open the double doors of the fridge.

You’ve just popped the tab on your soda when you hear the doorbell ringing, so you wander back out into the living room, throwing open the front door.

“Girl.. This place is big!” your friend Chloe steps into your house and she’s laughing. Talking a mile a minute about what happened today at your old school. And you’d be listening if it weren’t for the fact that you’re just a little distracted, staring at the house across the street.

Steve Harrington is outside, mowing the lawn. A gray t-shirt thrown around his neck to catch the sweat that’s covering his body in a light sheen.

Chloe realizes you aren’t listening and she goes quiet, her gaze following yours.

“He’s kind of a prettyboy, ___. Like Landon.”

You sigh. Give her a sheepish shrug. “He seems sweet though. He’s in my first class of the day.”

“Speaking of.. How weird is it going to our rival high school?” Chloe asks and you finally manage to shut the front door just so you won’t keep staring across the road at the poor guy. You remind yourself a little firmer this time that guys like Steve will break your heart. Zero hesitation.

Your father’s sports car pulls into the circular brick drive in front of the house and he calls out, “Forgot my plane tickets, champ!”

“On the counter, sir!”

“I’m leaving the Visa with you this time. If you girls wanna go into the city and do a little shopping or you need anything, you know the pin, right?”

“Mhm.”

This is standard. You get the same speech every single time he leaves. You’ve been getting it since the summer your mother died, between 8th grade and 9th. When your father started taking more out of town cases. Higher profile ones that meant he’d be away longer. When he started taking solo vacations because he said he needed time.

He goes in for a hug but it’s not the hugs he gave you when you were a little girl, you haven’t gotten one of those since your mom died either. This is stiff and it’s awkward. You pull away and your eyes settle on his navy colored tie. “Dad.. the tie is wrong. You’re going to throw off the whole suit.”

“Fix it,will ya, princess?”

You fix his tie and he chuckles, glancing from you to your best friend Chloe. “You two don’t have any wild parties.”

And then he’s gone, plane ticket in hand.

Chloe laughs softly. “C’mon. You mentioned this place has a heated pool?”

You laugh. “I did.”

“We can go swim. Teresa and Janey are coming, Janey just had to go home and finish packing her mom for New York.”

“What about Em?”

“She’s gonna no show. And we’re not talking to her right now because oh my god, girl.. Guess who brought her to school this morning?”

“Who?”

“Landon.”

You shrug. “Yeah. I kind of knew that was coming.”

“It blew up at lunch. They were all over each other and we exploded. I mean, there is such a thing as girl code.”

“Chloe, it’s fine. It’s not like I was gonna marry the guy. Besides.. I broke up with him. Remember?”

“Well yeah, but still. She’s dating him not even a week later. You’re our friend. Friends don’t pull that crap.”

You laugh and smile at her. “It was so hard today, I kept looking for you guys in the hallway. I did make one friend. Her name is Robin? She’s taking AP classes, so she’s in a few of my classes with the seniors.”

“You invited her, right?”

“She said she didn’t want to be in the way. Next time though.”

Chloe smiles. “Good.”

Teresa’s mother’s car pulls into the circular drive out front behind where Chloe parked her older sister’s car when she arrived. Teresa gets out on the driver side and Janey gets out of the passenger seat, the two of them arguing loud about Teresa’s driving and you’re laughing as you open the door again to let them in.

“Girl, holy shit. This house is massive.”

“I’m moving in.”

You laugh, hugging your two friends.

Teresa pulls away from the hug. “Did Chloe tell you about Landon and Em? Girl, that’s who he was cheating on you with.”

You wince but it doesn’t hurt like you thought it would, finally knowing the truth. Ultimately, you shrug it off. “It’s whatever, Teresa. I’m over it. It’s not like we were going to get married anyway, I mean.. And honestly, he’s not even that good looking.”

“He’s got balls for a chin.”

You snort, a hand raised to your mouth as you stifle a laugh. “So mean, Teresa.”

“Tessa’s coming too. Mom finally ungrounded her.” Teresa tells you and you laugh. “Unless she gets grounded again.”

“True, you’ve got a point. I can’t believe she thought she’d get away with coming in at 1.”

“Where was she even at?”

“That stupid club in the city? Yeah.. Apparently, Brenda figured out how to score a fake id? She got soooooo wasted. I had to help her up to her room.”

“Wait.. Brenda? Mousy little Brenda? She knows how to score a fake id?” you’re raising a brow because this is surprising.

“Mhm. That one.”

The Mustang Tessa drives pulls to a stop behind the car her twin sister drove and Tessa gets out. “Guess who’s out on parole, bitches!”

She says it so loud that you’re pretty sure Steve’s mother heard her as she got out of her own sports car across the street. Because the woman pauses, looks back at the group of you standing in the open front door of your father’s house and she’s giving you all this look of extreme disdain.

As soon as she’s in the house, Tessa wrinkles her nose. “What the hell was her problem?”

“You know how high on themselves those old money types are, sis.” Teresa laughs. Chloe speaks up. “Her son is hot. I wonder if he has any brothers.. Particularly an older one, y’know me..”

You groan and roll your eyes. And you happen to glance at the house across the street again just in time to see Steve standing in an upstairs window, looking out. You give a little wave and laughing, you turn away, wandering into the house.

“So.. we’re swimming. Right?”

“Duh. I waited for you guys to finally get here so I can test out the heated pool. I ordered pizza too. And Tessa can use her fake id to get us a little something later.” you’re giving the older girl a teasing look and Tessa grumbles, but she finally agrees. “Okay, alright,fine. I better not get in trouble.”

“Girl, nobody in Hawkins knows our mom.”

“Thank God for that.”

All of you make your way up into the room you chose to be yours and you’re taking turns changing into bathing suits in it’s adjoining private bathroom. Janey’s lounging on the bed, flipping through a magazine and you wander over to the big window facing the street, leaning against the glass.

“Hmm.”

“Yeah?” Janey looks up.

“Nothing.”

“Were you creeping on that guy next door?”

You can feel your cheeks burn. “No!”

“Liar!”

“I’m not lying.”

“He’s back.” Janey laughs when you flatten yourself against the wall next to the window and she’s smirking. “Point proven.”

You flip her off.

“Hey, I’m stealing this purple bikini.” Tessa calls out from your walk in closet. You laugh. “Take it. I didn’t like the way it fit. Too much ass.”

“Girl..”

“What? It’s true!”

“If I were a boy, you have no idea.” Teresa is wiggling her brows at you suggestively and you’re laughing and shaking your head.

You grab your favorite bikini, a red top with little white hearts all over it and a purposely mismatched white bottom with little red hearts all over it and you step into your closet to change. Once you’re done changing, you and your friends wander out into the yard, heading towards the back gate.

And across the road, Mrs. Harrington rolls her eyes. “Where on Earth are that girls parents?”

Steve almost chokes on the sip of Sprite he’s taken as he tries not to laugh or respond with something that he knows will get him in serious trouble.

His father rolls his eyes at his mother’s query and turns his attention back to Steve. “The coach called to talk to me today at the firm. Says you’ve been less than enthusiastic at practice lately, son. Harringtons are winners.”

“Yes sir.”

“And you need to talk to that rep from my old college. You’ve got to stop being lazy and putting things off. Slacking will not be tolerated.”

“Sweetie, your father just wants what’s best for you. Is this all because of that little drip? What was her name..” his mother rolls her eyes and turns her attention to the sudden shattering of silence, some rock band playing at full blast from the house across the street.

She rubs her forehead, grumbling in annoyance. “Those people are going to bring down property values.”

Steve clenches his fists. “Don’t you both have a flight to catch soon?”

“We fly out tomorrow. There better not be any girls here while we’re gone.”

“Your mother is right. The last thing you need right now is some little tramp throwing off your focus, kid. You’ve got a big game this Friday. A scout is going to be there. I expect your best effort.”

And Steve goes along with it, nodding his head. But mentally, he’s just reached a point where he’s done. And he doesn’t care. Because he doesn’t want anything his father’s been pushing on him since he was old enough to dribble a ball.

But basketball’s been the only way to get his father’s attention and even an ounce of pride from the man in him. But lately, he’s just reached a point where he doesn’t care. He’s starting to realize that the only time his parents are proud of him happen to be when he’s doing everything they want him to do. It’s as if he’s not allowed anything that might actually make him happy.

They hated Nancy.

They hate it when he goes out or has friends over, they hate anything remotely resembling fun.

“Okay, alright. I will, okay?”

“You’d better. I mean it, son. You’d better start shaping up. High school is almost over, son. It’s time to start growing up. Putting away childish things.”

And Steve can’t take it anymore. He gets up from the table and pushes his chair back into place beneath it forcefully before storming up the stairs.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into that kid but if he doesn’t shape up, I’ll ship him off to the military. That’ll build his character alright. Worked for me.” Steve’s father doesn’t miss a beat, rolling his eyes as the radio in his son’s bedroom kicks on, the sounds of some godawful band filling the house.

Down the table, Steve’s mother glares up at the ceiling. “He was such a sweet little boy. What happened to my sweet little boy? I think it was that frumpy little girl he was so caught up in.. Nancy? Wasn’t that her name? Or was it Nelly?”

Up in his room, Steve grabs his pack of cigarettes, thumping the unopened pack against his palm after he’s opened the window so he doesn’t set off the smoke alarms. Because if he has to take a second more of his parents riding him, he’s going to explode and he knows it.

He flops down in the window seat and leans his head back against the window surround, taking a cigarette out of the pack. And he finds himself glancing across the street to your house. Watching as you and your friends splash around in the heated pool out back. He can hear I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight as it floats across on the night breeze. He chuckles to himself as you try to dive on a massive unicorn float and miss it completely, popping up from beneath the water to splash your friend who is perched on a lounge chair, sipping something out of a wine glass.

As you pull yourself out of the pool and start to walk towards the gate, he quickly drops his gaze, exhaling a plume of smoke out the window and into the night. He’s got his eyes closed, he’s humming along to your radio since apparently, you’re going to let everyone in the neighborhood suffer tonight. Cutting Crew fades to Material Girl by Madonna and his eyes pop open when he hears a hiss coming from the yard below.

He swings his legs so that they’re out the windows as he sits up, gazing down at you.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” you’re smiling, a hand caught in wet and wild hair as you tilt your head and stare up at the way he’s sitting half out his bedroom window. You nod to the cigarette pressed between his lips. “You don’t uh.. Do you have more of those?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I bum one? Please?”

“You smoke?” he raises a brow. You shrug. “Everyone has vices, Steve.”

“Yeah. Hang on.”

“Wait, this will be easier if I just ring the bell and ask for you.” you say it and you’re gone before Steve can coax you out of doing that. He hears you ring the doorbell and he swears to himself, hurrying to shove a few cigarettes in the hollowed out book he usually hides his joints in on the rare occasion that his parents are home. And he wanders down the stairs just as your father has thrown open the door and you’re leaning in the doorway.

“Excuse me sir? Your son is in my class, I.. I kind of need to talk to him. It’s about an assignment.”

From behind Steve’s father, his mother speaks up, cutting her eyes at you. “It’s nearly 9 pm. On a Friday. Somehow I doubt you really want to talk to my son about a class assignment.” as she steps into the foyer of the house.

You can feel the disapproval as it radiates off the woman. But you don’t really care. She reminds you of your old neighbor. Always thinking she’s better than everyone else. Your hand settles on your hip and you flash her a grin. “I’m sorry to bother you so late, ma’am.” and it’s said in your sweetest butter wouldn’t melt of tones. “But I’m trying to catch up. I just moved in.”

“As if the moving truck parked across the street all morning or the construction noises I’ve been subjected to when I happen to be home weren’t obvious.” she’s got her arms folded, she’s looking you up and down and you just know she’s judging you.

And you want to laugh almost immediately.

Because you’re not the one standing around with shoulderpads so ridiculous on a designer blazer and skirt set that you look like a pro linebacker.

You lower the hand caught in your hair. “I can come back.”

“I’ll just go get my son.” Steve’s father gives you this smirk. And it’s similar to Steve’s to a point where you can see exactly where his looks came from, but it’s also different. A little too fake. A little too charming. And it rubs you all sorts of wrong when the man does it.

Steve’s mother is glaring at his father as his father makes his way over to the staircase to yell up for Steve.

You’re relieved when Steve wanders down, and you roll your eyes when his mother immediately stops him and she’s saying something to him in a whisper. You can tell she’s not happy with you being at her door.

It bothers you and amuses you in equal measure.

Steve’s scowling when he walks away from his mom and over to the front door. As he hands you a thick book, he leans in a little. “I think we’re around page 45 in class right now, ___.” he says it with this wink and you nod. “Thank you. I’m sorry to come over so late..” as you laugh softly, giving him this amused little grin.

You’re walking back across the street to get over to your house and take in the pizza that just got delivered when Steve hisses at you to stop from his bedroom window. “Sorry about that. My mom is..” he trails off. You shrug. “Kinda used to it?” you laugh a little. Nod to your house and offer, “If you wanna come over later.. We’re not really doing anything, dude. Just swimming. Tessa’s going to the corner store in a little bit, she’s gonna get some drinks.”

Steve chuckles and shakes his head. “Thanks though. Kind of writing an essay.”

“On a Friday?”

“Yeah.” he laughs quietly. “Why?”

“Nothing.. I mean if I knew your mom’s head wouldn’t explode I’d come over and help.”

“What about your friends though?”

“I mean, unless you’re opposed to having a house full of girls, they’d probably tag along. The offer is open. I mean.. We’re neighbors.” you can feel your face burning and you know you’re fumbling this badly, so you decide it’s time to leave. Go back over to your father’s house and get back to swimming with your friends.

As you wander away and disappear through the back gate, Steve takes a deep breath or two. “Nah..She wasn’t flirting with me.”

He keeps the window open, the sounds of music and laughter competing with REO Speedwagon as it plays quietly on the radio while he attempts a fourth time to come up with an essay that isn’t completely horrible.

And on his smoke breaks, no matter how hard he tries to stay away, he finds himself wandering over to his window. Staring across to yours.

“It’s not gonna happen. And I’m done anyway. Nobody ever stays. Kind of pointless.” he mutters to himself as he lights up his last cigarette and exhales a plume of smoke into the night…

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x yn #stranger things ● steve harrington #<- my writing ● steve harrington #<- warnings | angsty fluff drama of the high school teen variety ● neighbors au with no sci fi ● mentions of alch + 🍃 and eventual filth #<- see other warnings.#<- female reader warning | characterized ( body parts ● clothing/hair ● personality / rich girl!coquette!neighbor ● petnames #fandom ( stranger things ) ● season ( 2 - forward and au ) ● character ( steve harrington )

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yuyu1024 · 5 months

Text

I think... I love you

Pairings: Yunho × y/n x Mingi

Genre/tags: arrange marriaged, love triangle,

Warning: 🔞🔞🔞📢 cheating (don't do this) smut/angst, cursing, pet names, a hint of family relationship issue but not much, smoking, fetish/kinks, jealousy

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 4.2k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: continutation of 'Won't you regret it?' I hope its a good part 2 for you guys

-- also question... if you are the FL... who would you chose?

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated 😊

****

"Are you alright?"

Yunho enters our bedroom bathroom where I am standing in front of the mirror, zoning out. He is busy undoing all the buttons of his white shirt.

"Since we came back from my parent's house... you've been quiet."

Usually when we are together, I nag. Just a tiny bit. Or maybe not nag but you know chat. I rarely talk to anybody since I got married so, I talk whenever he is arround.

I always tell him what I did during the times he was gone like updating him since he have no clue what the heck is going on with me coz he is not the type to chat with you when he is away. He just text. Though very seldom.

"Yunho..." my eyes darts at him, through the mirror

"Hmm?" He answers while he's facing away and undressing.

"Can we have sex tonight?"

(I know what you may think. That sex is just my main purpose in life but i swear its not. I just... idk... find it... my go to when i dont know what to do? Plus how can I not want it if I have Yunho as my guy?)

He pauses unbuckling his belt and turns around, "do you really want to?"

I sigh as I face him as well. "I want sex. I miss sex." Then I look down at my dirty skirt. "I missed.... you... I guess..." I trail off, a whisper.

This is very out of my character. I admit I do ask him for sex when I want and need it. But saying I miss him outloud... thats new from me.

And yes he always ask me if I really want to. He always wants me to confirm what I want and need. He always makes sure that I am completely 100% okay with it. Because Yunho, well I did mention that he is amazing at sex right? Or if I haven't. HE IS. and If i also forgot to say that boy have kinks and fetishes, He does have. Also even though He looks like an angel, he does rough sex as well especially when he's really in his momentum.

I was stunned when we had our first rough sex during our honeymoon. I almost didn't recognized him. But that was fun. It was an experienced I never had before. (Don't worry it's not too extreme. Just a little spank, choking and tying my hands sort of thing. And this man loves biting my neck and shoulder)

"What did you say?" He asks. His eyes are wide and looks lost

I roll my eyes and turn my back to him. "Nothing..." he didn't heard me.

I guess I am a bit relieved he didn't heard me say I miss him. Because how dare me utter those words after what I did today? I let his friend, his bestfriend, eat me out and even agreed to have sex the next time we meet.

I am evil. I always tag myself as the poor girl who got married to a guy who I don't love, the girl her parent's threw under the bus and the girl who have nothing besides be a wife to him. The fuck? I am the worst person ever. Between the two of us, I am the devil.

"Well... do you want to have sex or not?" I ask again

He's now behind me. He snakes his arms around my waist as he watches me through the mirror.

"Don't you miss having sex with me?" I spat

"What do you mean?"

I turn again to face him, looking up. "Whenever you're home. I always ask you for sex. While.... You never do."

He crunches his brows "I do."

He does but of course the emotional girl in me feels like I ask for sex more than him.

"Not as many as I do."

"Does that matter?" He smiles

"Yes!" Not really. Maybe I just want more of him wanting me and needing me.

"Hmm?" He takes a step back, confused but still smiling. He's not offended by my drama

"Well... It makes me think that when you're away you must ha--" I pause for a second. I was supposed to add more drama by asking if he fucks other chicks than me but I saw something. "What is that?" I panic a little. It's bandage on his lower abdomen. Almost hidding on the hem of his pants. It's not big but still. "What happened?"

"Oh. It's just a small cut."

"Just a small cut? From where? How?" I look closer. "It's new..." I glance up at him, worried. "Yuyu... what happened...?"

"It's nothing..."

"Are you sure?"

He nods. "Yes... don't worry..."

Fuck. He is smiling. I guess it's not a big deal?

I sigh heavily. But it's not a relieved exhale. I know this has something to do with his work. He can always lie but I know. I am not that stupid.

We have been having sex coz... duh we are married. So we see each other naked. I've seen a few scars from his back and arms already. He might think because they are not big so its not that noticable. However I do see it. How can I not see it? I drool just gazing at his figure. I see everything.

"Hey..." he moves closer again and this time, super close that I could feel his boner through my skirt. "Don't frown... I just got back. And I want to see you smiling... not like that..." he softly says.

He cups my face with his one hand and plants the most delicate kiss I have ever received from him on the corner of my lips.

"I missed you too..." he adds before a smile creeps back in over his lips. "And... Yuyu...?" He suddenly says.

Oh crap he heard? Both? And now He's fucking teasing me! Wait. Did I really called him Yuyu outloud? Shit! That nickname is supposed to be for me only. Crap!

"Where did that came from?" He leans lower, making me arch my body to give him access and starts to kiss me on my neck. "Can you... Say it again..." he says in between kisses on my skin

"No..." I whine as I close my eyes

"Please... say it again..." he is talking so delicately all of a sudden. Sounding like a whine but a seductive request. "Say it..." his hands then gropes my boobs. My weakness.

"If I say it again... will you fuck me?"

My mouth then drops as his one hand goes straight to my core. He is caressing it and rubbing his palm on it, making me feel his fingers through my panties.

"Still on birth control?" He asks

I nod as we both look at each others eyes.

"Good."

He lifted me up, positioned me where I could sit comfotably on the top of our marble sink and spread my legs apart.

"You have no plans tomorrow.. right?" He tears up my panties making me gasp. "Coz... It will be a long night..." he snarls while he puts his pants and underwear down in one go.

I shake my head, answering no. I can't speak. I am... I am losing my mind.

He holds onto his length, aligning it with my folds and. "Answer me." He growls before he eases himself in. Full and strong.

"No!" I squeal. "I.. I have... I have no..." I put my arms around his nape, grabbing for dear life. "I have no plans..." I am breathing heavily.

My toes curls as he thrusts. Holy shit!

"Yunho! Ah!"

He is aggressive. This is different but good. Did he really meant it when he said he missed me too? Miss me how? Just for sex or miss ME?

"FUCK!" I hug him as he pounces me.

We both ruined our masters bathroom. It got messy. I need to personally rearrange our sink as I every beauty product, perfumes, body lotions and etc got thrown on the floor. Plus the towels oh god our towels. Hmm. We need to buy new ones.

****

After spending time together last night, in my surprise he didn't leave the following day. He actually fucking stayed and I woke up afterwards, still embraced by him. He's sleeping so peacefuly beside me. I finally saw him again, looking like a baby and dreaming.

This is what I want. This is what I need. This is what will make me fall in love with him. The in between the sex. Him being there, present and us having morning talks and etc. Yes sex is part of anyone's life (as long as you want it of course) but the beauty of having someone beside you, always is different.

Maybe I am selfish to wish something from a man who married me for business but I hope I could atleast get this from him. I am not asking and wishing for him to love me (if ever I get to truly learn to love him through out this marriage) I just want him to be a partner to me. I want to have and experience what my parents didn't gave me growing up. Spending time with me, giving me the attention I need even without asking and care. That's all. I know not everyone can love me but atleast just those three. Just.... that. It's not an impossible wish right?

But then again, do I even have a right to wish these from him?

****

I have been zoning out a lot these past few days. I have been contemplating and thinking about me and Yunho. Mostly about me, about my random emotions, my needs and wants.

I am definitely at lost. I may be an adult but my brain can't handle this type of adulting called the "Feelings". Especially when it gets complicated like this because of my shit descisions. Meaning hooking up with Mingi.

Why did I even did it? Like what had gotten into me? I am not like this. I know I value people's feelings. Why did I break when Mingi had his hands on my boobs that day. Why did I spread my legs for him? Why? Why?!

Am I that hungry for sex from Yunho that core just said hello to the next guy that's had the same length as my husband even though its different type of dish?

Fuck. Now I am thinking about these men as food. I am CRAZY!

"Hello baby girl..."

I jump on my seat as Mingi shows up, kissing me on the cheek.

"What the fuck?" I hiss at him, glaring even. "Why did you kiss me?" I look around and could see Mrs. Jeong and Mrs. Song from afar busy looking at the set of jewelries on the table.

Fuck. I almost had a heart attack. Glad they are busy and focused on the sparkles.

"It's just a kiss on a cheek baby." He says in his low voice, a whisper.

"Still...." I exhale, exasperated

"You are not responding to my texts lately." He says as he sits down at the chair across me.

"I got busy."

"Busy?" He repeats, sounding a bit amused. "We had a deal..."

"I am doing it... the painting... I mean."

He chuckles, leaning forward resting his elbows on his knees. "Baby girl... that's not the only canvas we planned to paint... remember?" I see his eyes scanning me from my chest down to the thing between my legs. "I was promised a sex... you gave me little taste of what heaven feels like and you're suddenly backing out?"

"I'm...."

"Well...?"

I look away and try to focus on Yunho's mother picking jewelries she would like to wear for the ball.

"Can we talk about the painting later?" I say a bit louder so the others could hear.

He chuckles and lay his back, resting. "Fine."

"Is everything alright?" Mrs. Jeong asks

"Yes." I answer smiling.

"I see." She then goes to sit down beside me and shows me this amazing diamiond tear drop earrings. "This would really go well with the black heart neckline gown of yours.. for the ball."

I look at it and my jaw drop how pretty it is. "It will... but..."

"But?" Mrs. Song butts in. "What you mean but? That's one heck of an expensive earring darling... don't you like it?"

"Oh gosh... I do... I do, Mrs. Song.. " I hold her hands and thanked her for the jewelries she brought for us to check and chose from. However...

"Did Yunho said, you two will not go to the ball?" Mrs. Jeong asks

I press my lips together. Not responding to the question. But of course, Yunho's mom knows it already.

"That boy and socializing..." she sighs

"Your son is not going again? But he said he will. He said he will atleast try once he gets married. And now he is married with this wonderful woman.. why is he not coming again?" Mrs. Song says

"Yunho really can't keep promises. What's new?" Mingi stands up and goes to stand near the open window. He's going to smoke again.

"Even if he promised to his mother?" Mrs. Song is bothered and sad.

She was expecting to see me and Yunho to the ball she will be hosting for this halloween season. It's for charity and also her favorite time of the year so she's very excited. She wants everyone to be present and to have fun.

"Even to me... his godmother?" She pouts

"We all know he's like that... work is important to him than us..." he puffs a smoke out. "Sorry Mrs. Jeong..." he adds

"It's okay dear. I know it already so..." Mrs. Jeong puts the earrings back to its case and just smiles at me. "Anyways... we can still hope for next time."

"Yeah... we can." I mumble

So, it's not only me who have issues with Yunho keeping promises and being present.

"So," Mrs. Jeong stands up, hands together and smiling. "We will go now and do more meetings with the coordinators for the ball. Final run downs of the flow of the party, theme and set designs... how about you two?"

"I'll stay." Mingi answers immediately. "We have to talk about commission..."

"Commission?" Both of the ladies repeat

"He requested for me to paint a portrait of him..."

"Really?" Mrs. Song sound surprise

"Money will go to charity." I add

"That's good then!" Mrs. Song is happy to hear the word charity. "Looking forward for the painting... we can display it at the house when its done."

"Sure will." Mingi answers.

The moment everyone left the room and silence fills up the emptiness, Mingi chuckles as he sees how frozen I got onto my seat.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He says

"I know." I look down at my knotted fingers on my lap.

Yes. Mingi may look like he'd beat anyone up but he is gentle with me. Nice with me. I never once feel like he means any harm. Well except on our first meeting months ago. We argued yes but he is still sweet to me.

"Are you thinking about Yunho? On why he does not want to go to the ball?"

I look up at him and nod.

His snorts a laugh. "It's been awhile since you two got married. Don't you guys had any getting to know each other talks? Or its always sex when you two are together?"

My eyes twitching at his claims. (Though he is right)

"Anyways... don't care about your sex life with him." He walks back to the chair from earlier and puts off his cigarette on the ash tray.

"So?" I ask

"You should ask your husband about it...not me..."

"I did. He just said he's busy that day."

"That's lie. Every one's schedule of each families that are invited for that day, are all clear. It had been agreed on for years now. It has been a tradition for decades now. So... ask him again.

"Oh..." my back finally touches the foam of the chair I am sitting on.

Oh Yunho. Why is it so hard for him to talk to me? Be open with me? Did I not give him enough reason to trust me and to feel safe around me?

I had shared my life with him. The stories from my mother and the stories from me, He knows a lot about me more than anyone. My first crush, the first time I got my heart broken, the insight about my feelings about my parents and relatives. Even stories about my struggles with relationship with people. I showed him vulnerability. And yet, it is still one sided.

Yes he did tell stories about him too. His life when he was a kid, during his university days and his hobbies. But those are common knowledge (I think). All of that are also known by his family and friends. He never shared his own thoughts and feelings to me. He never let his guard down with me. It's always positive. Everything is okay and good.

Maybe for him, whatever we have, will remain a contract. Just a signed piece of paper for him no matter.

I think, I should just stop thinking about him. I should stop overthinking about us and whatever feelings I am slowling building for him. I will only get hurt at the end. I am just someone for him to have sex with when he's home.

I know, I know he did say he missed me too. Twice. But maybe he just says that because he miss sex. Not actually me.

"You're frowning..."

"Hmm?"

I glance up and see Mingi standing infront of me, leaning in as he lightly flicks me on the forehead.

"You're not listening to me..."

"What? Did you say something? Sorry... I was--" I stop. I could not tell him what I was thinking.

"Was what?"

"Nothing." I mumble before I get off my seat. "I'm just gonna go..."

"You're going? Just like that?" He says as I walk pass him. "You are in my house..."

"So...?"

"So?" He repeats, "Baby girl, didn't I made you feel good? Didn't you like my tongue in your pussy?" Here we go again. He is teasing me again. He always ask this whenever we meet.

I glare at him. "Stop." Hushing him as someone might hear him.

"Don't worry... everyone is gone. This is my house."

"What you mean gone?" I look around

"I don't have anyone here... I'm alone."

"That can't be."

"Oh yes... it can. My staff only comes here during the weekdays and they don't stay pass 6pm. I like my privacy."

"So you mean..."

"Yes." He slowly comes closer and closer. "It's a Saturday too... the staff you saw with my mother are hers. And they left with her already so..."

My back then hits a wall from whatever room we are in.

"We can do what was promised to me months ago and no one will know." He smirks as his body finally reaches mine.

"We can't..." I say quietly

"Why not?" He whispers, lowering his head and kissing me on the cheek. "I know you liked what we did last time..."

"I did." I can't lie about that.

"So what's holding you back?" His hand roams around my curves until it reaches the buttons of my blouse. "You like this right? You like it when I play around your nipples..."

He hasn't finished opening my blouse, he just slid in his fingers in so it could touch my laced covered tip. He's teasing me. He wants me to react.

"Stop..." I say

"You tell me to stop... but baby girl... if you could only see how aroused you look right now..." he grabs my face with both hands and tilt it up so I could look up at him. "I just touched you and your eyes are already dreaming for more..."

"We can't do this... It was a mistake..."

"It maybe a mistake for you baby girl. But for me..." he finally kisses me. His tongue invades my mouth until a moan carries my soul out of my body. "You are my heaven right now."

That's it. I am gone. I didn't even fight the urge. This officially makes me a whore.

Mingi carries me with while we kiss. He sits back down at the chair from earlier but now I am with him. No, actually, on top of him. I am riding him.

"Ugh!" He throws his head back, hands gripping on my hips. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

This is so wrong. Why don't I have a backbone to say no to Mingi? What the hell is wrong with me?

"Ahh!" I cry as I bounce faster and made him go deeper in me. "It's so good..." my voice is shaky

"You take me so well." He say breathing heavily. His brows creases and mouth in an O. "Fuck!"

After a few more strokes, both of us came together. I collapse onto him. I drained all my energy squating on him.

"That was amazing..." he says

I could hear his heart beating so fast as my head rests on his chest.

"Y/n..." he calls my name

"Hmm...?"

"If ever..."

"If ever what...?" I ask closing my eyes.

"If ever you decided to end thing with Yunho... I want you to know... that I'll be here waiting for you."

My eyes flings open, "What did you say?" I got up so fast

"I am willing to marry you... if you and Yunho don't work out."

"M-marry? What the fuck are you saying? Your dick is still inside me and you go on saying if I get divorce one day.. you will... marry me?"

"Yes." He answers it like its nothing yet he looks so darn serious.

"You think... he will divorce me?"

"No... he will not... which sucks. Because who will divorce someone like you...?" He caresses my cheek and smile. "I am just laying it out to you... the other option you have if it does happen... I am not wishing any harm into your marriage baby girl... well besides more sex with you I guess..." he smiles and then winks

"You are crazy." I roll my eyes at him

"I am. I know that." Then he grunts as he slowly moves his hips again. "Crazy as I am offering and willing to be your lover even just behind closed doors."

I could feel him get harder again in me. He's aroused again. I haven't recovered from the high yet and here he goes again. I'm still hugging his length.

"You're blushing reacting to my dick moving in you." He teases

"S-shut up." I moan the words out as my inside tenses up again with him rocking me on him.

"Baby girl..." he hugs me and breathe in my scent. "Ahhh..." he is moaning along with me.

Fuck what is this. We just had sex just a few minutes ago and now we are doing it again. I am not complaining though coz holy shit it was good. A different good. However this one, this second one... feels different.

"Y/n..." he says my name again. His hands around my body and his face resting on my chest. "Y/n..."

All of a sudden, the bad boy, aggressive and blunt Mingi becomes tame and yearning.

"Let me be your lover." He mumbles. "I don't think I can't move on from you after this...." he then trails kisses on my chest up to my neck. "I want to be with you... even just like this... to pleasure you..."

My body then reacts to his words. I know it did. I felt him clench onto me when I felt something in me dwells up a strong emotion.

"Fuck..." he breathes burrying his face on my neck. "Please... y/n...ahhh... please... Say yes... say yes to me. I-I need you..."

I am crying. This is my first time hearing someone say they want to be with me. I know he might be just saying it out of his sex high but hearing the words... and him getting vulnerable because of me.

What did I do to him to make him want me? We only saw each a few times after the first meeting. Most of it was us talking about the painting and him doing poses for me for inspirations. Yes it were more than a handful of lunch dates, still related to the painting and all but... he got feelings for me?

Is it because my brain is so messed up thinking about me and Yunho, our complicated relationship that I missed the part that Mingi and I got a connection? That we got to know each other more than I realized?

But this is wrong. I am married. Fuck, I'm so confused.

"Oh, Mingi..." I moan his name as he sensually bites my earlobe.

"Say yes....I beg you." He lifts me up and move us both to the sofa. He's now on top of me and finally sees the tears coming out of my eyes. "Don't cry..." he kisses my damp cheek. "I promise, I'll make you happy and safe..."

"But..."

"As I said... I don't give a fuck about your sex life with Yunho. I don't give a damn fuck about your marriage. I want you. I need you." He leans in to kiss me again. "And I think... I love you."

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nobodysdaydreams · 6 months

Text

If Cutter and his little girlfriend are going to space, does that mean they're gonna get their hands chopped off too? (Also it looks like Duck Boy might be going for a redemption arc! Go Duck Boy Go!)

(or my reaction to Episode 47 and mini Episode 14 of Wolf359)

Welcome back dear readers! I managed to get another episode in as I pack for my vacation. Please enjoy!

Tagging the mutuals who got me invested in this, and if you want to be tagged or untagged from these posts, lmk, or you can follow my blog or simply follow the tag "#bods wolf359 reactions". Anyone who has followed me for a while knows my updates are inconsistent, so I apologize in advance for that and for any spelling/grammar mistakes in my posts.

@sophieswundergarten @oflightningandstars @acollectionofcuriousreblogs @herawell @commsroom

Episode 47: Into the Depths

I love Hera's narration, and I love the thought experiment. It reminds me of split brain patients. (For those who don't know what a split brain patient is, or haven't taken a psych class, if we were to surgically cut your corpus collosum (the part of the brain the connects your hemispheres), your consciousness would split and there would basically be two of you sharing one body (but same memories, personality, intelligence, etc.). This is only done if there are life-threatening seizures in the area and removing it is the only way to stop them, but it's an interesting thought experiment because if there are suddenly two of you, what happened to the one?)

And... now Doug is freaking out. I guess the slaps aren't working.

"You will understand Hera." Shut it Whiskey Boy! This also makes me wonder how many "Hera's" we've seen.

Kepler: "I have no idea what's going on Doug, but I just can't stop being ominous. I swear I don't know what's happening, this is just how I talk at all times."

Conan and Clippy? 😂 The names Lovelace gives them.

Yes. Kepler was rude Lovelace. He had so much Whisky and did he share it? No. No he didn't. Selfish.

Ah it seems even you weren't in the loop Jacobi. Perhaps you might fancy a mutiny now?

She doesn't know she's a clone? That's cruel. Think of Jacobi! He died thinking he was the real Duck boy! That's an awful way to go. No one should die believing they're someone so cringe.

Warm up act? Kepler, shut up. And what other clones have shown up over the years? Cutter? Pryce?

Good question. What about Jacobi? Was HE going to die too?

Kepler: "Start listening to me. The only person who knows what's happening." You're just blackmailing them Kepler, you're not good for much other than threatening people and swirling around your Whisky.

Weapon designed to appeal to humanity? But...how do you know she's a weapon? And how do you know she can't fight it even if she is? Maybe Lovelace is stronger than the evil aliens! If they even are evil.

TELL HIM HERA! TELL HIM!

Jacobi: "What could motivate me?"

Me: *Holds up a duck*

Ah blue part of the star. 💙💫 That does seem to be important. Scary, but important.

"Jacobi, any thoughts?" When does he have any?

His hands are shaking? Oh yeah, your friend died, you killed someone, and your boss who lies to people (GASP) LIED TO YOU TOO! Oh if only SOMEBODY could have seen this coming. Really, anybody with ears and a brain.

Oh right. The other Jacobi. This entire time he hasn't been sure? AND HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT FEAR FEELS LIKE? It's a NEW FEELING FOR HIM???

I guess everyone has their limit. Duck Boy needs a therapist. A team of therapists. The best therapists, and even then, I'm not sure it will be enough.

"You don't know what working at Goddard is really like" "You have a cool dental plan. Hooray." "It's not about that."

So...they do have a good dental plan? 🪥🦷

"Going new places. Meeting interesting people....LITTLE KIDS?"

Kepler. You didn't. NO. Oh my gosh they have Anne and Minkowski's husband at gunpoint don't they? And they don't even know.

Punch his lights out Doug. Good job.

Though to be fair that IS what working at Goddard seems to be about. Threatening the innocent for a 0.0000000000001% chance that you MIGHT get something out of this in the end.

Poor Lovelace. Hera knows what you're going through though. Exactly, see she does!

"Nobody do anything stupid" it's too late for that Kepler, you're here.

Good speech Lovelace! And nice punch!

"Can we get a break" Nope. Sadly no.

Huh. Hands are glowing. That's...interesting. Maybe she has some cool magic space powers? Is it too much to hope for?

Oh. It's the Dear Listeners. Well. Hello. 👋

Hush up Kepler. 😂 I love how they still talk like Doug.

That's right Kepler. Violence doesn't give you authority!

DISARMING HIM! DOES THAT MEAN HE IS LOSING HIS ARMS!

But...if he doesn't have any hands...

Then...how will he enjoy the feel of the Whisky in his hands?

Doug is hiding 😂 Why is Doug me?

What process are they talking about? “The door won't stay open, we are waiting.” Waiting for what? For what?

Well, at least the aliens don't like Kepler. That's a positive in my book. 👍

Glad Kepler and Jacobi are in custody. But...how exactly are they gonna put the handcuffs on Kepler if he no longer has hands...

Yeah, Minkowski, I'm with Lovelace. You SHOULD be in command. I know you think you're doing what is right, but Lovelace is an alien so...

DOUG. DO NOT SAY THAT THINGS CAN'T GET WORSE. TRUST ME THEY CAN.

Who is this? What is this? Who is Cline? Who is Jordan? What is this? Dr. what now? This is a lot of characters.

Full read out? Minkowski better send them a message warning them about Cutter. USS Hermes? OH NO THEY'RE NOT CALLING MINKOWSKI THEY'RE CALLING CUTTER. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!

Who is this? Who is the robot? Expunge the records? Ah yes, the black achieves. Oh Rachel.

"Say hi for me?" Hi to who? HERA oh no ew Pryce isn't it.

TRAVELING???

Please tell me Pryce and Cutter aren't coming to space. Unless it's to get blown up. In that case, they are welcome.

Mini Episode 14: One of Them

Oh they are listening to Jacobi and Kepler.

Looks like Jacobi might fancy a mutiny now.

Doug is me, I want snacks too 😂

"are you worried I can't get around Eiffel?" "Hey!" again, why is Doug me. 😂

Wow, Jacobi really DID care about Maxwell. Well then. Maybe the two of you shouldn't have been working for the bad guys then.

"What kind of officer have you been?" DANG DUCK BOY. GET THAT REDEMPTION ARC. GO DUCK BOY GO! 🦆

"I feel used. I feel experimented on. You treated me like one of them!"

Oh Duck Boy. Sweet silly little Duck Boy. Don't you get it? You've always been one of them. You, Hilbert, Maxwell, Kepler, even Rachel. You've always been one of them.

"You're addicted to gambling with people's lives and you lost!" EXACTLY!

"Neither one of us killed Maxwell." LIES! YOU COULD HAVE STOOD DOWN!

Jacobi is starting to realize that's not necessarily true. Good for him.

"I had my orders." So did Maxwell. So did Hilbert. So did Jacobi.

"You're just the middle link in the food chain" EXACTLY! YEEEESSSSSS!!! DUCK BOY IS FINALLY GETTING IT! AND THANK GOODNESS SOMEONE FINALLY IS BECAUSE HILBERT NEVER COULD! DUCK BOY! YOU'RE DOING IT! WADDLE YOUR WAY TO THAT REDEMPTION LITTLE DUCKLING! YOU CAN DO IT! 🐣

Thanks for reading dear readers. Sorry I didn’t have time to react to more, but I hope you enjoyed this!

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gamerwoo · 2 years

Text

[SVT Imprinted] Mingyu: Change of Heart (Part 3)

Anonymous asked: can you do another part for mingyu where bomi has to face yoongi? we never found out what happened with the hunters

Anonymous asked: it would be cute to show more of the friendships among the pack!!! even if its just a little bit. i just really like how they interact

Characters: Mingyu x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, college au, angst, drugging and kidnapping, mentions of torture/abuse, slapping, comfort/fluff at the end, a lil suggestive at the end too, if i missed anything lmk!!! (this was also originally mingyu x oc so if i fucked up editing im sorry lmao)

Word count: 5,106

Summary: Things had been quiet for too long, and the pack thinks that your past has just forgotten about you. But werewolf hunters don’t forget, and they don’t usually let go of grudges. Unfortunately, though, one of the pack ends up getting sucked into your problems.

Tags: @psshwa @uglyratlmao @brokenbutchocolate @shra-vasti @killcomet @brattybunfornct @shuabby1994 @henloiamaweirdobye @anissanightyoung @babyminghao @minluvly @honeyylin @miki-chi @heemingyu @noraehey (if you’d like to be added to the tag list, please fill out this form!!!)

Unable to tag: @junuoyi

Previous | Next | Imprinted Masterlist

This was probably the most uncomfortable thing the pack had to witness. Nobody was even sure why they had to witness it when it didn’t involve any of them.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it...” Junhui mumbled, staring at the floor instead of at anybody.

“I know, Jun,” Minghao sighed, “it’s okay.”

“Say it like you mean it,” Seungcheol ordered.

Junhui finally lifted his head, but only to glare at the alpha, “I do mean it!”

The whole Jun-saying-he-hates-Minghao thing was something was obviously creating tension in the pack, but that didn’t mean any of them wanted to be involved in the apology. They figured Junhui, Minghao, and Yoona would eventually talk it out on their own. But instead, Seungcheol called a ‘family meeting’ and was making Jun do it publicly in front of everyone.

“Cheol, it’s seriously fine,” Minghao insisted.

“No it’s not,” he stated. “What Junhui said was out of line.”

“And why does it concern us?” Joshua asked boredly from where he was leaning against the doorframe to the living room where everyone was gathered.

“Yeah, last time I checked, I’m not the one who ruined Jun’s life,” Areum deadpanned.

Most of the pack glared at her for joking about it. Some of them seemed surprised she’d said that, and two snickered at the comment.

“What?” she asked the alpha defensively. “I’m just pointing out how it doesn’t include me.”

Jun was a little immature when it came to his emotions. He didn’t really know how to express them without acting out, but he eventually came around and apologized. He actually was pretty easy to come around, but because Seungcheol was basically embarrassing him in front of the pack, he was doing so begrudgingly.

“We’re a family,” Seungcheol sighed. “When two of us are fighting, it affects all of us.”

“Like I said...” Areum trailed off, rolling her eyes.

“Okay,” you stood up with a breath and looked straight at Seungcheol, “I’m leaving. This is weird and they can figure it out. Last time I checked, I’m not their fourth, so.”

Seungcheol gave her a stern look, “No, you can’t leave a family meeting.”

Areum stood as well, shrugging, “I’ll risk the consequences.”

“Sounds good to me,” you decided, and the two of you squeezed by your mates, brothers, and sisters to get to the door.

“Hey!” Seungcheol called after the two of you. “If you leave, you’ll be punished later!”

But his threats fell on deaf ears as you and Areum left the house anyway, hoping Junhui and Minghao could fix their beef on their own -- or at least not while you had to witness the awkward conversation.

“You ever been one one of the bikes before?” you asked.

Areum’s eyebrows raised, “You know how to drive them?”

You scoffed, “One of them is mine, my grandparents gave it to me. Want a ride?”

So you secured a helmet onto Areum’s head before putting on yours. You got on the bike before Areum got on the back and wrapped her arms around your waist. And then the two of you were off. Areum didn’t have a preference of where to go, as long as she was out of that house. She didn’t even live there but she happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time and got sucked into the awkward encounter.

You ended up pulling up at the mall, not knowing where else to kill a few hours. You parked toward the back where it was more secluded with less cars. You were admittedly a little nervous somebody would hit your bike with their car.

“So what do you think this punishment is gonna be?” Areum asked as she got off the bike and hung it from one of the handlebars, clearly not afraid of whatever Seungcheol was threatening.

After yours was off, you replied, “Can’t be any worse than watching that shit show.”

“It’s probably gonna be somethi--”

Before Areum could finish her guess of what the alpha had planned, she suddenly cut off with a very short screech. You whipped your head around to see Areum staring back at you with fear in her eyes, her mouth and nose covered by a cloth. Your eyes followed the hand holding the cloth and saw a masked man standing behind her. Before you could react, you had the same thing happen to you, but you tried her best not to breathe in.

You watched as Areum’s eyes slipped shut, and the man started dragging her away. You didn’t want to scream to waste air, so you tried to watch where they went, but your head was suddenly yanked back by your hair, causing you to inhale sharply. You were staring up at a man with his nose and mouth covered by a black mask, but you would know those cold eyes anywhere. They belonged to your former best friend, after all.

Yoongi.

“You thought we’d forgotten about you, huh?” he smirked as your thoughts started to get cloudy, and your eyelids began to feel heavy. “It’s unfortunate your friend had to get sucked into it, but nobody can know what happened to you.”

Yoongi removed the cloth and began dragging your body toward where Faye had gone. You tried your best to articulate words, but it was just a stuttered, mumbled mess. The blonde-haired boy chuckled, tossing you into the back of a van.

“You always were stubborn, _____. Guess that’s why I got along with you so well,” he told you. “Just stop fighting it and go to sleep.”

As Aya parked beside your bike, Mingyu flung the door open before the car was even stopped and ran to the abandoned motorcycle. Areum’s small backpack was left on the ground, and your phone had either been dropped, fallen out of your pocket, or intentionally left behind by whoever took you. But it was clear somebody had taken the two of you. He had a very bad feeling as soon as it happened, and he knew Chan must’ve felt the same thing. But he didn’t have time to call the youngest who was stuck in class because his first priority was to follow your scent to the scene of the crime.

“_____,” Aya called out as her, Seungcheol, and Soonyoung got out of the car. “Areum?”

They heard a buzzing noise coming from Areum’s bag, so Mingyu picked it up and unzipped it. Her phone was lit up by Chan’s name and a picture of the couple.

He answered it with a stressed, “Hey.”

“Chan?” Aya guessed.

Mingyu nodded.

“Oh, thank god someone answered!” he breathed. “Are you with Areum? Where are you? I have a really bad feeling and--”

“I’m not with her,” he finally managed to cut in. "I had the same feeling about _____ and they were together. I found her bike but both of them are gone and their stuff was left behind.

“Fuck,” Chan hissed.

“Who would’ve taken them?” Soonyoung wondered, looking between the three wolves.

Mingyu let out a short, dry laugh, “I can think of a couple people.”

Seungcheol suddenly took the phone from Mingyu, “Chan, I want you to go back to the house and get as many of the pack to go with you as you can. Follow the pull and we’ll meet you there.”

"But--”

“We won’t let anyone touch Areum, I promise. Just do what I tell you.”

And then he hung up.

Despite being incredibly groggy when you came to, you knew exactly where you were. You’d seen plenty of werewolves and those who protected them be dragged into the room. Nobody ever heard of them afterwards, so you knew what was coming next.

“Good morning,” Yoongi’s voice was too sweet to be sincere, and you scowled. “How’d you sleep?”

“Cut the shit, asshole,” you snarled. “Where’s the other girl?”

“Oh, you mean your sister? From your new family, you fucking traitor?” Yoongi asked, his voice angry and harsh as he gripped your hair and forced your head back. Clearly, he wasn’t over you just randomly abandoning the hunters for Mingyu and his pack without a word. “She’s being taken care of. You’re more than welcome to see her, though, if you’d like.”

You could only imagine what Chan’s mate looked like now. You knew exactly what they did to people when they were brought here, and you knew there was a strong chance that Areum would have been humiliated, beaten, shocked, and possibly even had any marks on her body removed somehow.

Despite being one of the tougher and snarkier of the mates, you knew she didn’t stand a chance trying to protect herself against werewolf hunters. Maybe Eunmi, but Areum? You were genuinely worried for the state your sister must’ve been in now. You hoped that just maybe Areum was still passed out.

“It is a shame that she had to be dragged into this,” Yoongi said in a soft tone, pulling you from your thoughts. “If only we could’ve caught you alone. But if anybody knew what happened to you… Well, that just can’t happen. We’ve gotten into enough trouble trying to tie up loose ends, but this is one we can’t just leave alone. You really fucked us over, _____, you know that? You fucked me over!”

The group you used to work for was thorough, and you knew that well. Whenever they had to get rid of somebody, they always made sure nobody else knew. That was partly why you fucked up so badly when you were sent to take out Chan – Mingyu had shown up, and that was just another werewolf you’d have to kill so nobody would know what happened. If any of the other girls were around when you were kidnapped, they would’ve met the same fate.

You knew she had to get out, find Areum, and help her escape. How you would do that, though, was lost on you. You knew your old group wouldn’t let you go that easily, even if you had a history. The only time they let someone go was when Jungkook had a falling out with his adoptive sister, but that almost ended differently -- and they had to make a treaty, which Namjoon rarely agreed to.

Your thoughts were suddenly cut through by a shrill scream. Your head lifted as you fought against your restraints, afraid that the scream belonged to Areum. All Yoongi did was chuckle at your useless struggles.

“You know you can’t get to her,” he pointed out as he slowly paced in circles around you. “Just give up, it’ll make things easier.”

“I swear to God, Yoongi, if you let anybody touch her–”

“You’re not in a position to threaten anybody,” he cut you off, gripping your jaw harshly. “Neither of you are getting let go, so I suggest you don’t piss off anybody.”

“_____!” Areum shrieked.

“Yoongi, please!” you begged with desperation in your voice, feeling helpless. You knew you couldn’t do anything while you were trapped like this, but you had to do something. It frustrated you to a point where you just wanted to cry. “She’s–”

Yoongi just smacked you face away from him and walking away, not letting you finish. He left the room, leaving you alone to just listen to the screams and cries of your sister, not knowing what was happening to her.

With Yoongi gone, you maneuvered your handcuffed wrists from behind you to in front of you by popping out your shoulders and moving your arms above your head. It was something you learned to do when you were younger and in training – you had always been one of the sneakiest of the hunters due to your flexibility and knowledge of how to get out of situations, maybe second to Elsie – and it finally came in handy.

With your hands in front of you, you reached into you hair for a bobby pin to unlock your handcuffs. Getting out of handcuffs was something you were trained to do, but you weren’t like the others who just carried little pins in their back pockets or whatever just in case. You definitely made it a little difficult for yourself for never doing things ‘just in case’ but you managed, like you did now.

Once your wrists were free, you untied your ankles and booked it for the door. You recalled the override keycode for the door, hoping they didn’t change it. When it slid open, you poked your head out, checking out both ends of the hallway before you tried to figure out where the screams were coming from. You did see somebody open a door, come out, and close it, so you decided to go down that way first.

You sprinted to the door and pressed your ear against it. Sure enough, you heard whimpering and heavy breathing that sounded female. You put her hand on the keypad…

Suddenly, hands gripped your shoulder’s. You gasped and immediately spun around, kicking your leg out to kick the side of whoever had grabbed you. They were sent backwards, their back hitting the wall behind you before you pressed your forearm against their chest roughly. That was when you finally realized who had touched you.

“Ow…” Mingyu groaned softly.

You let out a breath of relief, letting your arm down, “Jesus Christ, Gyu; you scared me.”

Mingyu just pulled you into his arms tightly, resting his cheek against the top of your head, “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“Keep your voice down,” you instructed in a whisper. You let him hold you for a few seconds, but you pushed him away urgently. “They took Areum; we have to find her.”

The rest of the pack – save for a few – were with him. You took note of the fact Chan’s eyes were blood red, and he was sniffing around the door that you were just standing at. However, he just backed away and started walking further down the hall.

“Chan!” Aya whispered harshly, but the younger wolf kept walking.

“Follow him,” you instructed, grabbing Mingyu’s wrist and tugging him along.

Chan used the pull, as well as his nose to find his mate. He stopped in front of a room at the end of the hall that you recalled was pretty infamous. It was essentially where all of the most awful torture happened, but you didn’t have the heart to tell any of them. They did hear you gulp, though, when Chan stopped at the door.

“What’s in there?” Seungcheol asked slowly.

“Hopefully nothing bad right now...” you replied in a shaky voice.

“Wait,” Hansol spoke up as Chan put his hand on the door, making the tense werewolf growl lowly, “we can’t just…kidnap them back and leave. We need to make sure these hunters leave us alone.”

You nodded as Joshua spoke, “He’s right. A small group should stay with Areum and get her out. The rest of us will–”

“Us?” Mingyu quizzed, raising an eyebrow. “_____, you’re leaving with Areum. We’ll take care of everything else.”

You turned to face your mate, giving him an incredulous look, “I’m the only one who knows their way around this place; I’m helping.”

“Alright, alright,” Seungcheol cut in with a sigh, “calm down. _____ has a point, so Chan, Aya, and Jeonghan will bring Areum back the way we got in. The rest of us stay here and end this. There’s fear in numbers, and we have one of their own.”

All you did was stick your tongue out at Mingyu, who just huffed with a pout on his face.

A sudden cry from the other side of the door brought all attention back to the room you stood in front of.

“No, no, no, no! Stop; please stop!” Areum begged in a loud sob.

A loud growl ripped through Chan’s chest like you’d never heard, and he forcefully pushed opened the door with a metallic crunch. There, kneeling in the middle of the floor, blindfolded, was Areum. You recognized the person standing beside her with a hot iron near her neck as Jin, who was arguably the most sadistic of the group. Jin stopped what he was doing just as Chan ran as fast as he could to his mate. However, instead of going straight to Areum, he found it best to just get rid of the danger first. He gripped Jin’s collar in both hands, causing the hunter to drop the iron to the floor.

While a few members of the pack went to keep Chan from doing anything too drastic, you rushed straight to Areum who was still sobbing on the floor. You removed the blindfold, and Areum immediately tossed her arms around you, crying harder. From what you could tell, Areum hadn’t been touched yet, so she must’ve been crying from threats and just being afraid.

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re safe,” you cooed, rubbing her back. “Chan will take you home, okay? You’ll be safe. I’m so sorry I got you into this…”

Meanwhile, Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Soonyoung were trying to pry Chan off of the hunter. Chan’s eyes were turning a brighter red by the second, his claws out, his fangs out over his bottom lip, and he was shaking like he’d shift at any second. But the pack didn’t want Chan killing somebody and making things worse for everyone else.

“Chan, stop,” Seungcheol growled lowly in a stern voice. “Just go take care of Areum; she needs you.”

You and Mingyu helped Areum to her feet – her legs were like jelly and she could barely stand on her own – and brought her toward Chan. Jeonghan and Soonyoung stepped away to let his mate come closer, and Areum immediately wrapped her arms around his waist when she realized it was him. She buried her face in his back and just sobbed, Mingyu still holding most of her wait.

That managed to break Chan from his killing trance, as he released Jin and turned around, gathering his mate in his arms as he shushed her. Seungcheol and Soonyoung grabbed Jin’s upper arms before he could scramble away, and brought him down to his knees.

“Chan, get her home,” Seungcheol ordered. “Aya and Jeonghan, go with him. Everybody else, with us.”

The group of four quickly left the room, Aya leading the way. However, as they reached the door, Jimin threw it open, a gun aimed right at Aya’s chest. The werewolf went stiff as her eyes shifted to red, stepping in front of her sister that was still being held by Chan. At the back of the small group, Jeonghan snarled but didn’t make any sudden movements.

Jin looked absolutely terrified until he realized Jimin has shown up. A smirk appeared on his face as his hair fell into his eyes. “Oh, so the rumors are true, huh? Baby _____ is a wolf’s mate.”

However, your glare was on Jimin, “Leave her alone, Jimin.”

From behind Jimin, walked in the rest of the hunters, all holding various weapons. Yoongi strolled in second to last, smirking at you as he carried a baseball bat wrapped with silver barbed wire -- he always loved to carry the more ‘fun’ weapons, as he called them.

“When have we ever left mates alone, _____?” he asked in a teasing tone. “I called the other units, they should be here soon.”

Your eyebrows raised for a split second, “Wow, you actually managed to make friends?”

Namjoon, the leader, nodded his head toward you, signaling the small group at the doorway back up back over to you. They did as they were told, and Chan put Areum down but continued to keep his arms around her as he tried to comfort her. Jeonghan moved to stand in front of the three, but Aya put herself beside him anyway.

“If you cooperate, maybe we’ll spare this one,” Namjoon smirked, pointing at Areum with his bow. “But...maybe we’ll just kill her instead.”

But you suddenly got an idea. It was a bit of a longshot, but it was the only idea you had. Maybe it would get some of them to show some sort of compassion and humanity. Either way, it was the only idea you had.

“Namjoon, you asshole,” you burst, gesturing stiffly over at Areum, “she’s pregnant! You’re really going to hurt a pregnant girl and her baby? I knew you were heartless, but this is a new low!”

Jimin’s eyes widened as he studied the crying girl, “She’s… But I… I-I didn’t know! Namjoon, we can’t–”

Hoseok walked up beside him and slapped a hand over his mouth, hissing, “Shut up.”

You studied your old partner’s face, as well as your former leaders as the whole group looked over at Areum. She was wearing a baggy sweatshirt today, so it was hard to tell if she was or not. Even still, you could say she wasn’t that far along yet.

Namjoon glanced over at one of the other men, “Tae?”

Taehyung sighed, still looking at Areum, “I have...heard them talk about pregnant mates. Two of them, I think.”

So they had been watching you for a bit. That made sense. They were probably waiting for a good time to strike.

“How far along?” Namjoon asked, his eyes on you now.

“A few months,” you lied easily, trying to play her off as either Yoona or Faye since they were around the same time along. “It’s her first.”

Namjoon stared at Areum as his jaw clenched and unclenched over and over. You could practically see the mental battle he was having in his head. He knew this baby could very well become a werewolf, but it was a baby nonetheless. Could he really hurt not only a pregnant human, but an unborn child?

“Yoongi?” Namjoon asked, wanting his take since this whole plan was originally orchestrated by him, anyway.

Your old partner was stoic, showing no emotion as he stared at Areum. Then his eyes flashed over to you. You stared back at him, not showing what you were thinking or feeling, either. The two of you just had a stare-off, waiting for the other to do or say something.

Finally, Yoongi sighed and dropped his head, “Whatever.”

“But Yoongi--”

“Shut the fuck up, Jin” Yoongi snapped. He looked back up at you, glaring, “Get the fuck out of my sight.”

All eyes were on Yoongi, nobody understanding his order.

“What?” you finally asked.

“The units will be here any minute,” Namjoon said calmly as he took a small knife from his pocket and sliced open his palm. Yoongi turned into a puff of black smoke, disappearing into thin air, “so you better make this treaty before I change my mind and go against Yoongi’s wishes.”

You wasted no time, striding over to Namjoon and holding out your palm for him to cut for you. Then the two of you firmly shook hands once.

“Go,” he stated, nodding his head toward the nearest exit.

Most of the pack wasted no time, getting Areum up and out of the room as fast as possible. you, however, hung back, so Mingyu paused just outside the door, waiting for you. You just looked at Namjoon, not understanding why him or Yoongi decided to let you go when the two of them were some of the most ruthless members. Jimin might’ve, but Yoongi of all of them?

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said. “Yoongi called the shots on this one. And if any of you end up on his radar again, you know he won’t let you go again.”

You just nodded once, “I know better than anyone,” Then, you stepped forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Namjoon’s cheek. “Pass that along to Yoongi for me, will ya?”

You winked playfully, and with that, you fled down the hall, holding onto Mingyu’s hand.

Areum had nightmares almost every night, but she wouldn’t admit it to anyone. Everyone could tell she wasn’t acting the same, though. She was always a little too on-edge when she was at the pack house, so Chan mostly went and hung out at her place instead. Minghao would also leave for a couple hours to see her and keep her company. The two could tell she was afraid of being left alone now.

You felt awful because you should’ve protected her, but you couldn’t. Everybody could tell you felt responsible. Like Areum, you weren’t acting the same, and you were keeping your distance from just about everybody. The only person you couldn’t stay away from was Mingyu, who glued himself to your side.

“Baby,” Mingyu frowned the seventh night that you just poked around at your dinner, “you can’t keep blaming yourself. Even Areum doesn’t blame you -- she keeps texting you to thank you for helping us get out.”

“Chan says she screams in her sleep for me to help her,” you muttered, your eyes blank as you stared at your food that Mingyu had brought to your shared bedroom. “I know he was trying to keep it from me, but I heard him tell Minghao in the kitchen the other day. And if anyone finds out I lied--”

“But nothing happened, and they’re both okay,” Mingyu reminded you, taking both of your hands in his as he dipped his head to try to look at you. “You saved her from having her mark removed, remember? You managed to get out of your restraints to find her even though it could’ve gotten you killed first. And nobody will know you lied. The treaty’s made and they’re going to leave us alone.”

“No, we only found her because Chan sensed her,” you sniffled, starting to cry like you always did when you thought about it for too long. “I was standing outside the wrong fucking room, Gyu! If you guys hadn’t shown up, I would’ve gotten caught, Areum would’ve gotten burned, and who knows what would’ve happened after that! She’d be scarred for life – and that life would be really fucking short, Gyu!”

“Shh, shh, shh,” Mingyu hushed you, pulling you into his lap and gently rocking you, “those are just what ifs. Both of you are safe, and that’s what matters. If you hadn’t escaped when you did, we wouldn’t have found her in time, either. You helped save her, ____. You’re the one who saved all of us. You stood up to the hunters and got us out.”

You heard a knock, and the two of you looked to the door.

“It’s me,” you heard Chan’s voice. “Can I come in?”

You nodded, so Mingyu called back, “Yeah.”

Chan opened the door and offered a shy smile before he stepped forward, “Could I…talk with ____ for a second?”

The two of you looked at each other before Mingyu moved and placed you back on the bed. As he exited the room to give you and his brother privacy, he clapped Chan on the shoulder. Chan closed the door and then went and sat at the end of the bed, offering you a soft smile as you wiped under your eyes and tried to collect yourself.

“How’re you feeling?” he wondered.

You shrugged, “Not great.”

“Well,” he began, his golden eyes looking into yours, “I wanted to thank you for sticking by Areum when that happened. We wouldn’t have saved her without you, so…I’m very grateful to you, _____.”

You were pretty surprised by this. Sure, the rest of the pack told you that you were some sort of hero, but Chan had never sat you down and talked to you about it. He was always with Bomi so he never could. You were touched, actually.

“…You are?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing.

“You risked your life for not only Areum, but the pack,” he continued with a nod, his smile widening in amusement because of how shocked you looked. “The hunters won’t be after us, all because you had a connection to one of them; don’t look so surprised.”

“I thought everyone was just saying that to make me feel better...”

“_____, you don’t really give yourself enough credit,” Chan laughed softly.. “I’m lucky to have you as a sister, and the pack is lucky to have somebody like you in it.”

As you and Mingyu lay in bed that night, you stared up at the ceiling while Mingyu kept his eyes closed despite being awake. He listened to your heartbeat and breathing as you thought, waiting for you to finally fall asleep. When you didn’t for fifteen minutes, he inhaled deeply.

“Are you okay, babe?” he wondered softly.

“Yeah, just thinking again,” you replied, still staring up into the darkness.

Mingyu rolled over and sat up to turn on the lamp on the nightstand before he rested on one arm, looking at you, “Anything you want to talk about?”

“You know, Chan and you talking to me kind of made me realize…I could’ve died. I didn’t even think about that; all I thought about was getting to Areum to save her.”

“You always find yourself in situations where you could get killed,” Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head. “First Chan and I almost killed you, but then you almost killed us. Then Jaehee’s other mate almost killed you, and then Jaehee almost killed you. Then you went to Jinsoo’s, and you could’ve died. Now the hunters almost killed you…”

Mingyu paused as he realized exactly just how much trouble you found your in. His eyebrows furrowed as he spaced out, staring at the bedding, before his golden eyes flickered back to you, “Maybe if I get you pregnant, you’ll behave yourself more like Faye and Yoona.”

You rolled your eyes, gently shoving at Mingyu’s chest, “Yoona always behaves, and the only thing Faye doesn’t do now is climb the ceiling beams.”

“Yeah, but neither of them have done anything to get themselves in trouble like you have,” Mingyu pointed out with a smirk. “Pregnancy is the only way.”

You threw your mate a playful glare, “Don’t even think about it.”

“Alright,” he sighed. But then he suddenly grabbed your waist and rolled himself onto his back, his lips pressing softly to your neck before nipping lightly at your skin. “How about we practice then?”

“Practice having babies?” you snorted.

“No!” he laughed, shaking his head and tickling your skin with his hair. “Practice making them.”

Your hands moved to Mingyu’s hair, carding through it, which sent a content rumble through his chest, “I guess practice makes perfect.”

#ficscafe #seventeen #mingyu #mingyu au #seventeen au #mingyu imagine #mingyu scenario #mingyu series #mingyu fic #mingyu x reader #werewolf!mingyu #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #seventeen series #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #werewolf!seventeen

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spencersmagic · 2 years

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zygomycota - spencer reid

masterlist // join my taglist // navigation

prompt: "did you love her? the woman you slept with. did you love her?"

-> we already spoke but thank u so much for requesting it! (idk if yo u wanna be tagged so not tagging just in case). this was a lot of fun to write <3

couple: spencer reid x fem reader

category: a lot of angst, hurt/comfort. happy ending :)

warnings: mentions of injury, cheating, bacteria (if that's a trigger), addiction, emotional neglect (lmk if i missed anything).

***

To say Spencer’s life had been difficult was an understatement.

Being the youngest recruit in the FBI, the babyof the team, Spencer had to become as tough-skinned as humanly possible. Under all those cardigan sweaters and mismatched socks, Spencer had grown to deal with ableist insults from the local police, and superiors undermining his ability. He understood what he was going to endure in his life, and in the FBI, and he rose to the challenge – simply because it’s what he does.

He had felt his world crumble, his lungs imploding when facing the death of those he loved and, in losing them, he found himself missing parts of himself he would never get back. He had lost way too much. The knot in his stomach had tightened and tightened, now a permanent resident in his throat.

It just wasn’t fair.

But Spencer knew this. He knew that to be the person he wanted to be, he would have to become exceptional at developing a second, stronger layer, incapable of breaking until he got back to his room, hid under the covers, and allowed himself to break down. His emotions always felt like a burden, like they were created to interrupt the moments when he needed to stay strong. It took a long time for him to come to terms with the things about him that he called imperfections, such as his ability to feel so much. Imperfections which are, in reality, what make him such a beautiful person. It was also one of the areas Y/N and Spencer had to work on the most.

***

Y/N wasn’t one to shrink in the face of a challenge.

What’s more, she would argue that it was the very trait of hers that got her so far. The career of a woman in the FBI was bound to have some setbacks, after all. Her whole life, she had experienced resistance from the people who were supposed to support her and lift her up. She had been shamed and assaulted, and everything in-between. She had learned to not take any shit from anybody, no matter how much she wanted to keep quiet.

The phrase you can’t fight fire with fire comes to mind when you think of her. Her kindness didn’t go unpunished by the cruel world that surrounded her in her job, suffocating her until she goes out, but it was one of those things she had learned to live with. Spitefulness hurts people - she was sure of it.

But understanding hurts, too, which was something she never even considered.

At least until now, three months into her boyfriend’s repeated behavior of neglect, hiding, sneaking out at late hours of the night, and hushed calls with an anonymous voice, who remained unnamed no matter how many times she tried to ask. She justified her boyfriend’s behavior, allowing herself to hide inside a cocoon of emotional neglect thinly veiled with lies, at least for a while, until she would inevitably explode.

And Spencer knew she would. At one point, he almost counted on her exploding. Anything to stop the guilt that was growing inside of his chest, poisoning his every breath. He would compare it to zygomycota, in that they destroy what was once full of life and hope, and they decompose it, turning it into nothing. Eliminating any chance of a fresh new breath - one full of excitement and love and the smile on her face when he would gift her tulips.

There’s a limit to how understanding he could be with himself. At one point, the image of himself they had worked so hard to build up, to repair from the repeated abuse in his childhood, felt lost - an illusion. Another of his magic tricks, designed to deceive those around him while still knowing the magic would end up fading. And all that would be left would be him.

There’s a limit to how understanding he could be with himself. And that limit was crossed, snapped apart leaving him with no sense of direction or purpose, when he arrived home at his usual 3 am, a time he knew Y/N would be asleep and far away from any chance of getting hurt by him. He had done enough in the past nights to know he couldn’t expect to be loved by her.

But, God, he wished he was worthy of her love. He wished he hadn’t messed up as he did. That way, maybe, he could find solace in her arms after a bad case. Maybe he wouldn’t have to run to another woman for comfort, the guilt washing over him like waves slowly crushing anything in their path against the mountains.

Ironically, that’s how he felt as he walked in and saw Y/N’s silhouette under the soft light of her computer screen.

Unsure of what to do, Spencer shut the door, placing his belongings in the closet meticulously. He reached down to undo his laces, struggling to get down after his knee injury. His fingers played with the laces aimlessly as he looked at his girlfriend, trying to figure her out. Her back was turned to the door, leaning back and towards the side of the couch. In the past couple of months, she had carried on with her life, hoping Spencer would turn to her at some point. Y/N thought their relationship was stable enough that they could talk to each other about anything. Now, she was closing her eyes briefly, hugging the pillows of the soft couch and imagining she is cuddling with Spencer.

Her eyes stung as she opened them, looking back at the screen through her dried eyes. An episode of Gilmore Girls was on, though she couldn’t tell which one. The comforting show had been on repeat in her computer, distracting her from her real-life problems with the soft whining of the girls.

As Spencer stood to walk towards her, he recognized the show. They had watched a few episodes of it together before the incident, but she probably realized it was hopeless to wait for him to join her.

Who he didn’t recognize was his girlfriend. She felt foreign to him. Her face was sunken, and her gaze was unfocused. As he walked around the couch, he took in her state. Her computer screen shone softly on her face, puffy and irritated at the scratching of the rough pillows against her cheeks. Her eyes shifted to look at him, her expression unaltered, as if she saw through him. In a way, he almost hoped she would. Selfishly enough, it would be easier for him to face her.

He parted his lips, stupidly fumbling for the right words. Apparently, there are no words good enough for when you’re lying to the woman you promised the world to, so he settled for willful ignorance.

“H-How come you’re still up?” he looked into her soulful eyes. He watched her trembling hands, an action he knew came from her excessive tea drinking when she stays up at night to study, as they reached to take off her headphones, looking down.

She took a deep breath, shutting her eyes momentarily, trying to stabilize her body’s shaking.

“Do you love her?” she shuts her computer.

“W-what?” he asks, dumbfounded. In the weeks he had gone through every single scenario, every nexus parting from the point she found out about his deception, this one hadn’t even crossed his mind. Y/N could only feel her anger bubbling. Anger at Spencer, for thinking she’s stupid enough not to notice. Anger at herself. Spencer had found solace in someone else. She felt ridiculous for waiting for him to get tired of her.

She exhaled sharply, her eyes narrowing at him.

“The woman you’re sleeping with, Spencer. Do you love her?” he stood still, looking at Y/N, who had found the strength within herself to stand up and walk up to him. He had never seen her act this hostile with him.

Spencer didn’t know what he had done, but he knew there was some explanation for what was happening. He scoured his memory for an idea of what was happening, for an ounce of logic in this chaos.

“Did you hear me?” she raised her voice, no longer able to control herself. “Do you love her? Or is she like me? Someone who waits on the sidelines for an ounce of attention, of comfort, only to wake up to a cold, empty bed” she broke down, tears streaming down her face for, what felt to her, like the hundredth time in the past few weeks, unable to contain her anger for another second. The memory of the past weeks hung heavy on her heart, pulling her down. In fact, he could’ve sworn he saw her knees go weak.

Instead, she remained strong as she watched her boyfriend, the man she loved so deeply, stumble over his words. His eyes were red, and he kept rubbing them.

“Y/N”, he mumbled. “Y/N I don’t know what I did. I-I wish I did, but I d-don’t”. His poor attempt at excusing himself makes him understand her better than ever. After everything they’ve gone through… If he’s hurt his girlfriend and has had the audacity to forget how he did so, he knows he deserves to lose her.

“You really think I’m that stupid, huh? That much inferior to you?” she stared right into his eyes, inches away from his face, in a way that made him terrified of what he had done to her. He didn’t recognize the woman in front of her.

He had completely broken her.

“The woman you’re sleeping with, Spencer. Does she at least know?”

Tears streamed down his cheeks. Everything was too confusing. Overwhelming, even. How had this happened?

“I’m-“ his own sobs interrupted him, the hope for another chance pulverizing, “I- I’m not s-sleeping with anybody, Y/N”.

Y/N reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone. “How can you expect me to believe that?”. Under the soft glow of her screen, he hadn’t realized just how tired she looked. Had she even slept in the past few weeks? He could barely remember.

Spencer pressed his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears.

“Pen sent me these”, her gaze was dull as she turned her phone. “Four outgoing calls to a number registered as Sandra in the past week, all of them well after we’d gone to bed”.

Spencer is a scientist. He knows it wasn’t possible, but at that moment, he could’ve sworn his heart had plummeted to his feet, yet he’d never felt his own pulse as strong as he did at that moment. His mouth went dry.

“I’m sleeping in the spare bedroom. I’ll grab my things and be gone by morning”.

Gone. That’s all Spencer hears. And it’s like his body has gone on autopilot. He takes a step forward, engulfing her between his arms, the tears leaking onto her hair.

At that point, she hated him – she truly did. He had betrayed her trust, lied to her and treated her like she was nothing. Gone, indeed, was the boy she had fallen in love with, the clumsy bookworm who was too scared to talk to her when she joined the team.

But, in his embrace, she allowed herself one last touch, the loneliness of waking up in a cold bed weighing on her. The lover in her, the romantic, wanted to stay in his arms forever. Especially when the body of the man she loved shook so violently, sputtering broken apologies and incoherent syllabled between his sobs, as he lowered himself to his knees, hugging her waist.

As he cradled her body, holding onto her as if she was the last breath he could take before drowning, she felt the need to hug his head, brushing his tears away. As she pushes his arms away, they fall to his sides in defeat, and she can’t stop herself before pressing one last kiss on his forehead.

His head tilted upwards, his eyes glossy and red, and his cheeks pale, a soft pout decorating his cherry lips. “I-I- “ he tries to understand, he tries to explain, but he only shuts his eyes in frustration as she runs her wet fingers over the lines on his forehead.

And with that, she leaves him overwhelmed and confused on the floor. He wasn’t heartbroken, though. He was certain she had taken his heart to the foreign bedroom, filled with promises of a future, and empty of memories of him.

She had been numb for so long that she truly believed she would be able to fall asleep tonight, but all she could do was try to listen at Spencer crying and speaking to himself. She had only seen him like that once.

With a hand against the doorknob, she was doing everything in her power not to succumb to him. Nothing about the past weeks’ walks in the park, and innocent kisses on the subway, and origami figures he had been placing on her desk meant anything anymore. Not when he was running to another woman in the nights.

If there’s one thing she had learned in her time as a woman in the bureau was to stand her ground. Her heart broke with every sob and thud of his body onto the floor, but she also knew that the man who had promised her a future, a family, and an eternity of shared experiences had turned his back onto her for a quick fuck. Just the thought of it made her sick.

“Y-Y/N” she hears the soft knocking against the door, and she feels her whole world crumble again at the thought of having to look into his eyes.

Her fingers surround the doorknob, shaking fingers questioning their journey as she remembers, once again, what he’s done. She’s not sure she could ever stop thinking about it.

But her body knows what it wants. She can doubt and worry and try to separate herself as much as possible from the cold loneliness of the past few days, but she cannot stop herself from turning that doorknob and see him for the last time again.

“Unless you’re here t-“ she is interrupted by the movement of his hand in front of her.

“This belongs to you” he states. And that’s when she saw the blue, engraved plastic coin. “One month”.

Her face fell. “W-what?”

Spencer was adamant. He shook his head, a few strands of hair falling over his face. “You’ve made me realize that I am not a collection of the worst things I’ve done in my life; that I can be better. You taught me how to be”. The hand between them shook involuntarily as his red eyes welled up, again. “Do you remember the case in Nebraska?” she nodded, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth as he continued, “I relapsed. I-“ she gasped audibly, interrupting him. He could practically feel the pain she was feeling, and it was driving him mad. Spencer couldn’t believe he had done this to her again.

He shut his eyes forcefully before continuing. “I couldn’t believe I had let you down again, and I couldn’t trust myself again – not after how I was last time, so I got a sponsor”, he watched her face fall, putting the pieces together.

“Sandra” she whispered. “Spencer, I’m so sor-“ she reached out to touch him, to hug him, she needed to make sure he was real, but he took a step back, standing his ground.

“I know you don’t trust me, and after lying to you for the past few weeks, I know I’m not deserving of your trust. But you’ve taught me to not give up, so this is yours”.

He turned to leave when he felt her fingers around his arm, turning him and pulling him into a hug, and he crumbled like a wall around her. His arms snaked under her shoulders, burying his face in the crook of her neck, falling apart. His sobs were loud, knees weak, pulling them both to the floor.

“I’m s-so so sorry, love. I didn’t mean for this to happen, but I started spiraling and I-“ she interrupted him with a sloppy, innocent kiss. They break out of the kiss, his sobs turned to tears she was desperately trying to dry with the pads of her fingers on his face, an everlasting reminder that he wasn’t alone.

“You’ve always been deserving of my trust, Spence. I can’t believe you would think otherwise. It’s just-“she sighed, her body releasing the pain of the past weeks with a shudder and a touch. “It’s been hard lately… with us. And when Pen mentioned your calls, I realized you were drifting away, and it hurt, Spencer” she watched his eyebrows knit and his mouth twist, biting the inside of his cheek. “Of course, it hurt. But I’m always here for you. You’ve made mistakes, and I’ve certainly made my own, we are in this together, do you hear me?” her eyes pierced his own as she waited for him to respond.

“You relapsing will never be a cause for me to break up with you.” Her thumbs drew circles on his cheeks as he slowly relaxed. “I hope you know that”.

“I do”, he mumbled, shifting into her chest. He felt another apology bubbling in his throat, urging to come out.

To say Spencer’s life was difficult would be an understatement. Like many around him, he had shoved his feelings away and underground, ignoring them. To him, they were a nuisance – a bigger handicap than any other circumstance in his life. And throughout the years he had done everything in his power to rise to the occasion – to beat the odds: as a child of divorce and an unstable household, with the IQ of a genius, he had quickly learned from his extensive research that the chances of him being successful were slim.

In his many years of trying to seem enough, he forgot he had to believe it, too.

But what a waste – to make yourself feel nothing so as to not feel anything.

***

i haven't posted in six months and i'm feeling hella weird about this one. is it great? is it horrible? let me know here <3

//tags aren't working for some reason?? tumblr truly is the worst

@lady-anon-x @username2002 @eoupe @galaxydefenderjulia @urie-bowie-mercury @spencerreid-mgg @spenxerslut @huntheimpossible @onyourfingertip @idontwantyourcookiesthanks @big-galaxy-chaos @fiftyshadesofspencerreid @exhaleli @tbuhgs @strugglingtodoshitt

#spencer reid #spencer reid hurt comfort #spencer #reid #angst #criminal minds #cm #not marvel #matthew gray gubler #mgg #matthew #gray #gubler #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #fem reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x you #spencer reid masterlist

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variantoutcast · 1 year

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Just want to say I know some people find tag games annoying and some people really enjoy them. I'm in the really enjoy them camp but I can't always remember who does and who doesn't so if I tag you in them and it annoys you please lmk! Don't feel like you have to do them or acknowledge them if you don't care either way but if I am annoying anybody with them just lmk and I'll stop. And the inverse is if you enjoy them but I haven't tagged you I don't mind you doing them and tagging me in them anyways if you want to do them! I like seeing them

#this post is probably unnecessary but I have anxiety about irritating my mutuals ahdowbid

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whalesung · 2 months

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super secret fictkin blog - nathan - 20 - he/him

NO MINORS!

more info about my nathan kin below! i’m okay with doubles but not if youre a dick about who is more canon/valid. i post what i want. i will tag if you lmk.

i am a nathan fictkin that relates to the bts iteration, with some aspects of the original lis canon. i also identify with fanon. some general info:

I DO NOT CONDONE anything nathan has done. i relate to his morbid side due to my own exposure to gore and other explicit materials at a young age. bring discourse somewhere else.

i do not suffer with schizophrenia (the canon mental issue nathan does) i do struggle with paranoid periods due to severe depression and deal with day to day unreality-related issues. i have had minor hallucinatory experiences.

i am beyond comfortable with anybody from lis interacting, apart from jefferson for obvious reasons. plus i doubt there’s a jefferson kin on here lmao. i would love especially to talk to a rachel or max kin. my bf is already a kind of warren-esque figure in my head, so i’m uncomfy with warren fictkins that are grahamscott based.

I AM NOT A SYSTEM. i’m just a guy with a strong connection to nathan and this is a way of coping and also funnelling my interests.

drug talk (specifically alcohol and weed) will be on here. if you’re uncomfortable with this i can tag it appropriately.

general warnings include: ed talk that will be tagged (tw ed). as well as graphic material that may be rb’d or drawn - it will never be real gore though. suicidal ideation may be discussed but will be tagged under vent. morbid topics are a given.

generally i don’t shit on people who casually kin or ‘kin for fun’, i’m new to the fictkin community and am not on board with unnecessary drama with non-fictkins. this is a blog for me and anybody interested/anybody who is also fictkin from lis.

i mask all the time on literally every other blog i have so with this one i will be unfiltered. this isn’t a warning per-se, just a general notice that i may be more standoffish.

nathan is a negative kin purely due to the source material making his life unfixable and his actions unforgivable - but that doesn’t mean this blog is just a venting space. it will be a beacon for positivity and a comfort space for myself.

generally that’s it. if you wanna ask anything don’t be afraid to ask.

#intro post #fictkin #fiction kin #kin #terrified this is my first post el oh el #new to this shit so don’t kill me #lis kin #life is strange kin #kinposting #kinblr

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p1zzaplex · 7 months

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pizzaplex system / cornflower collective .

◜collective info◞ ∿ 18 y/o ⬫ dex ⬫ they&/them&. partial-DID system. white american, perisex, transmasc/pangender/genderfluid. ∿ we struggle with functional neurological disorder, autism & adhd, and some kind of issues with words and reading. ∿ we are medically recognized/diagnosed for all of these things, but i do not owe the specifics of that information to anybody and it does not validate me any more otherwise.

◜please dni◞ ∿ endogenic systems or supporters, dream stans or likers. dsmp fanatics are on thin ice. basic dni criteria otherwise. zionists, proshippers, etc, special acronym for you that starts with k. ∿ we are 18, and would rather not have children interacting due to personal discomfort. (14 or under) ∿ fnaf mimic dislikers GO TO HELL!!! (joke)

◜views?◞ ∿ we do not engage in syscourse, but would prefer those who label themselves as endogenic systems to not interact w/ us. we believe most endogenic systems are misguided or misinformed. ∿ we believe in educated self diagnosis, people against it aren't welcome on this page. individuals do not need to prove their disorders to you by receiving a professional diagnosis. ∿ we will not tolerate open hate anywhere, no matter what your beliefs are. ∿ 0 tolerance for freaks and ppl who are here to cause issues. i block freely because its my account.

◜blog content◞ ∿ we post system related junk, fnd related junk, oc related junk, interest related junk... you get the idea. whatever we want.

◜system information◞ ∿ introject heavy (you know, due to the neurodivergency thing...) ∿ hosts include sylvester (many names, all neos + he/she), bailey (he/she/neos), and dipper (he/they). ∿ if you need PK/SP info for any reason, message and ask for it. not totally sure if i'll give it to anyone but the offer is there i guess. sdfhjsdfkl

◜misc◞ ∿ we will tag triggers. please dm me what you need tagged and i will make sure to add it to a list somewhere. ∿ special interests currently include ocs, fnaf, computer viruses and a bunch of other fun stuff. if i do it right, the full interest list will be under the read more thingy. ∿ critical consumption of all interests. ∿ bad with tonetags. you'll know if im actually upset with you, but if you need one feel free to ask. i talk funny online and my tone could come off as rude, just know it's not my intention. ∿ speaking of tone stuff, our communication may be weird because of the whole... system thing. signoffs are in the tags and everyone will try to remember I Think.

◜special interests◞ ∿ FNAF!!!!, mp100, petscop, ts6, my ocs, omori, sam and max, bolt, pkmn, bbu, cybersecurity, storytelling, warrior cats, the lego movie, sonic, music, gravity falls, stray, minecraft, petz catz/dogz, lmk, toh, hermits/trafficsmp, rainworld, httyd, poetry, args, the bad guys, aggretsuko, puss in boots, lackadaisy, backwoods, portal, doors

◜content creators i like◞ danny gonzalez, drew gooden, kurtis conner, markiplier, jerma, astralspiff, hermits, cody co, rtgame, sinjin drowning

◜music artists i like◞ taylor swift, the crane wives, cinders, dheusta, tlt, ricky montgomery, roland faunte, radical face, will wood, sleeping at last, the oh hellos, kimya dawson, sufjan stevens, paramore, the arcadian wild, doglantic, ajj, moon walker, autoheart, bear ghost, icon for hire, flatsound, mumford & sons, cheekface

thanks for stopping by. grin.

#- sylvester #pdid #pdid system #fnd #functional neurological disorder #pizzaplexposting

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fata-vocant · 2 years

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Pls rec English language dante blogs thank you I want to get into it but everything is in italian and idk where to start

so there really aren't any devoted (and active) english dante blogs on tumblr-- i literally created this blog to be a collection of english dante things, and as you can see it's kind of sprawled into all my interests.

however, i do follow people who post Dantent(tm) sporadically or have in the past. some favorites (on tumblr):

@ovidiana's Dead Romans Society comic, there’s an arc featuring dante and virgilio and poetic immortality that’s very sweet

@skyeventide has a lot of very good dante analysis posts

lots of @cithaerons' posts

@little-dante

@divinecomedicadventures (originally in italian but has some english translations posted)

outside of tumblr (in roughly descending order of seriousness) there are lots of english Dante websites:

Lots of academic sources compiled by Columbia University https://guides.library.columbia.edu/c.php?g=183525&p=1321521

Digital Dante by Columbia University, which seems to be undergoing renovation right now but features side-by-side Italian and Longfellow's translation plus Teodolinda Barolini's commentary which I love https://digitaldante.columbia.edu/about-us/

DanteWorlds, a visual representation of the commedia's geography, by the University of Texas http://danteworlds.laits.utexas.edu

Dante Today, a collection of Dante references in pop culture https://research.bowdoin.edu/dante-today/

World of Dante facebook page (more academic-oriented) https://www.facebook.com/Worldofdante?fref=ts

The blog Italy Today with Dante, comparing contemporary Italian society/events with Dante's works http://italytodaywithdante.blogspot.com

The Young Inferno by John Agar https://archive.org/details/younginferno00agar

Jazz Inferno! by Sherman Irby https://www.jazz.org/blueengine/inferno/

(my favorite:) An epic and weirdly intense manga adaptation of Inferno by Go Nagai (translated into English) https://research.bowdoin.edu/dante-today/visual-art-architecture/go-nagais-dante-shinkyoku/

i hope this helps! (this is probably the start of my once-promised masterlist of Dantent(tm), so if any has their own favorites feel free to reblog/comment them!)

#if anybody tagged does not want to be tagged just lmk #danteposting #screams from the abyss #masterpost #thanks for the ask!#i love talking about dante and wish there was more content online in general #alas #gotta make the content you wish to see in the world #around this time last year i began an inferno text adventure if anyone would be interested in that #let me know and i might just dig it up

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xcziel · 3 years

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i am so angry at the stupid coding of the ifttt rss feed to tumblr, bc something in the way ao3 codes author names keeps it from grabbing the html to make an author name linkable

i keep seeing these lovely feedly to tumblr automations but evidently you have to pay for a pro account to enable that and i am not shelling out a monthly fee purely to enable an author link you can find from clicking the link for the ao3 work but it's so FRUSTRATING

used to, you could pick what you wanted in your ifttt recipe with some html but now the "ingredients" are locked. it all got fucked up when tumblr went to "new post types" and iftt "upgraded" (derogatory)

rrrrrah i just wanted an automated dmbj ao3 feed but i got caught up in trying to tweak it to have what a normal "hand-crafted" tumblr link post would have and it makes me fume

#/users/blank/pseuds/blank #like it still works and everything it just ... will NOT capture the author url #about to make a support ticket at ao3 to ask them why author is #<a rel=''author'' href=>blank</a> instead of an archiveofourown.org url #but they are very busy and i'm sure it's for a specific reason #it just is f*cking stupid that tumblr can't work with that from the rss feed and i can't edit the ifttt ingredient to fix it #i am not css proficient in any way and i just want the automation for dummies workaround to actually WORK #all i wanted was automated link posts for people who don't want to deal with making their own link posts #for like self-promo or whatever - i LOVE when people make their own promo posts but some people aren't comfortable doing that #anyway it's there. ao3feed-daomubiji using the only overarching tag that seems to collate everything #there's too many ships and crossovers between media and formats to try using only smaller tags #probably someone who already had feedly pro will make a pingxie only feed or something #anyway if you write in dmbj and you don't do your own promo posts you can reblog your fic from the feed #but ofc bc it's automated it only does new fics not like chapter updates so ...#there's SO much more non-english fic being posted than i thought which is cool to see #if there is a better tag for ALL dmbj-related ao3 entries lmk #also i made a liu sang feed so if anybody wants to volunteer a nice gif or screenshot for a header ...

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androidemotions · 4 years

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Thank u for the tag @merwaines 💕💕

make urself in this picrew:

[ID: an image from a picrew done in a round cartoony style, representing myself. I'm pale with acne scars, short brown hair, hazel eyes and I'm smiling with my tongue out. I'm wearing rectangular glasses, a yellow shirt and a brown blazer with trans and non-binary pride pins. The background is a deep purple with pink and blue paint splatters on it and the corner is watermarked with, "Scuff Scotch." End ID.]

Tagging: all my mutuals are welcome to do this and tag me !! But specifically ill tag: @misterstargazer @aellesiym @latinosupers

#also anybody lmk if u don't wanna be tagged in these posts I don't wanna keep bothering u with the notifs if so ^_^#also mutuals can lmk if u WANT to be tagged in these posts bc I'm not always sure who does so I tend to go w ppl I interact with more #That's all. I was just feeling a bit anxious abt tagging ppl tonight shsjshskshs #tag games #I almost forgot that id.... idk if I'm actually doing them right referring to myself in them #but like..... the context is that its supposed to be me so it makes sense right???? idk.

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bobateastay · 2 years

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sooner or later - c.jh

choi jongho x gender neutral!reader

cw - non-idol!au, fluff, friends to lovers, grocery shopping + food talk, jongho + wooyoung + yeosang are flatmates

word count: 1.3k

a/n: i loved writing this sm, if anybody wants a sequel lmk bc i'd love to write one <3

Jongho reckons that sooner or later he'll fall in love with you.

He hasn't known you all that long, and for most of the time he has known you you've been a friend of a friend and nothing more. But when he looks at you now, looking through milk cartons with far more concentration than necessary as you try to identify the exact kind of milk Wooyoung asked you to buy, he thinks that all that time he was just waiting to make his mind up. If you can even make up your mind about something like falling in love.

"It's this one," he interrupts your train of thought, reaching for the pink-tinted carton of strawberry milk that's right in front of you. He watches you go through all of the stages of grief as he places the carton in the shopping basket you're holding. Finally, you turn to look at him and gasp.

"Did you know the whole time and not tell me?" you ask in an accusatory tone. He laughs and shrugs.

"It looked funny when you kept staring at them," he says, patting your shoulder when you roll your eyes, a pout forming on your lips.

"Whatever," you grumble, letting Jongho pick up a carton of regular milk as well before the two of you start walking down the aisle to collect the rest of the items you were sent here for by Jongho's flatmate.

Grocery store lighting isn't flattering, but somehow you make it work. The fluorescent lighting highlights your imperfections (Jongho thinks you should wash your hair tonight and will likely mention it later) but for some reason it doesn't make you look unappealing at all. You make this lighting look even better than that overpriced ring light Wooyoung keeps insisting makes his selfies look better. Jongho stares at you for a little longer and then looks away before you can call him out on it.

"Hey, should we get pizza dough?" you ask, coming to a sudden halt in front of a fridge full of all kinds of ready made dough. There's a happy glint in your eyes when you look at him. If it had been anybody else Jongho would've told them to get a regular frozen pizza, but he knows he won't be able to convince you otherwise now that your mind is set on it. He doesn't know if he likes that you're headstrong yet (he'll figure it out once he's sure he's in love with you) but he indulges the trait and grabs a roll of pizza dough to put in the basket. You grin. "Nice!"

"We need to get cheese now though," he says, looking down the aisle. "Wooyoung didn't give us money for that, right?"

"It's cool, I'll cover it," you say casually. You don't even live in their flat, so grocery expenses shouldn't fall on your shoulders, but you don't seem bothered by it at all. The two of you walk down the aisle and as you grab two bags of pizza cheese (what the fuck is pizza cheese anyway?) Jongho checks the price tag as subtly as he can.

"We'll split it," he says.

"The cheese?" you ask, raising an eyebrow as you stare at him. Jongho's stomach does all kinds of somersaults and flips. His insides could get an Olympic gold medal in gymnastics if they keep this up. "I wasn't planning on just eating it by myself, only Hongjoong does weird shit like that."

"And Yunho," Jongho corrects you with a snort. "No, I mean we can both pay for the cheese."

Your eyes widen and Jongho grins when you give him an embarrassed nod.

"Shit, yeah, right," you mumble, your words running together. Jongho laughs again. You're cute, he thinks. Not that he would ever say that out loud, probably not even after he falls in love with you. "Anyway, Yeosang asked for Monster."

"Gamer girl juice," Jongho mumbles, which makes you let out a loud bark of laughter that sounds far too similar to Wooyoung's laugh for his liking, considering everyone in the aisle has turned to stare at you both. He guesses that whole thing about people being like their five closest friends must be true. "You should pray for his kidneys, he's one of those people who forgets to piss whenever he's playing."

"Isn't caffeine a diuretic as well?" you ask, still stifling a laugh as the two of you come to a stop in front of a refrigerator stocked with brightly coloured energy drinks. Jongho hums as he nods, and watches you pick out a few cans. Bright pink. Teal. Green. Yellow. Purple.

"Wait, what are you picking based on?" Jongho interrupts, staring at the rainbow you've created in the shopping basket.

"Well I know the orginal black ones taste like piss so the colourful ones must be the opposite, right?" you glance at Jongho, looking for confirmation. He just shrugs.

"I don't know, last time I drank Monster was when I turned sixteen," he says. The two of you look between each other and the cans in the basket for a few moments, Jongho's heartbeat picking up it's pace the more you look at him. He swallows his nerves and points at the refrigerator. "Get him one that tastes like piss as well."

You do as he says, grabbing the original can and setting it down in the basket.

"Good call," you say solemnly.

There's nothing else on the list that the two of you need to buy. The shopping carton is now filled with vegetables, a bag of frozen chicken, the two cartons of milk, your pizza supplies, energy drinks, a copious amount of instant ramen and a few apples. A decent-looking basket for three guys in their early twenties (plus the few things that you threw in for the times you eat lunch with them). The two of you keep walking around the store anyway, making fun of brand names and debating over whether you should get crisps as well.

"Wait!" you exclaim suddenly, looking at Jongho as though you've just come up with a way to achieve world peace. Jongho smiles at you as though you have. "Let's get donuts instead."

Okay, so maybe not on the same level as achieving world peace but Jongho keeps smiling anyway.

"Sure," he says, and you grin as the two of you make your way to the bakery section of the store.

The bag of donuts that you place in the basket seems to mark the end of the shopping trip, and the two of you make your way to the till, spending a few minutes calculating how to split the cost of the extra groceries before you actually pay, both of you crossing your fingers that Jongho's bank card doesn't decline (Yeosang managed to input the wrong code for his card twice and Jongho's been living in fear of losing his card ever since).

"Here, let me carry them," Jongho says once the two of you are out of the store, taking the three plastic bags (what can he say, they're easier to reuse than the paper ones) and huffing softly as he arranges them in his grip.

"Thank you strong man," you say, only half-joking.

"You're welcome," Jongho replies politely, only half-serious.

You've walked halfway back to Jongho's apartment when you interrupt the idle chatter the two of you have kept up about wifi costs and whether or not the government cares about the exponential construction of apartments in favour of taking one of the bags from him.

"We should do this more often," you comment. Jongho raises an eyebrow.

"What, go grocery shopping?"

"Yeah," you say with a firm nod. "It was fun."

Well. Jongho can't deny that.

"I'll let you know when I'm on grocery duty again then," he says. He looks over at you and finds you smiling at the dreary view of concrete and traffic around the two of you - not that he could find it dreary when you're there.

In all honesty, Jongho reckons he's going to fall in love with you sooner rather than later.

╰(￣ω￣ｏ)꒰thank you for reading!꒱

taglist: @lovely-ateez @sunsethw4 @seonghwanotes @xirenex @bcbataro @peanutpmingib @sannierio @ateezinmymind @demonmatz @fallinforwoo @tohokuu

#ateez x reader #choi jongho x reader #ateez fluff #choi jongho fluff #ateez fanfic #choi jongho fanfic #ateez fic #choi jongho fic #ateez imagines #choi jongho imagines #ateez scenarios #choi jongho scenarios

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blueprint-han · 3 years

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[Image ID: A black picture with the title “HOW TO SUPPORT FANFICTION AUTHORS” written in bold caps lock, colored with a winter forest picture. End ID.]

Well, this post has been made countless times, but I’m making one too because I’ve seen a lot of people say they’re new to tumblr and don’t know the whole “reblogging is better than liking” rule and other stuff. So without any further ado, here are ways YOU can support the fanfiction authors. Now keep in mind this applies to almost every author out there, not just the stayblr fandom, so if you’re a silent reader (or even if you aren’t), I advise you go through this post. Warning, this is a fairly long post going into detail, so yeah. I still expect you, the readers to read this, and if you’re a writer, feel free to lmk if i’ve written smth wrong or if you want me to add something! ^^

In this post I’ll go into thorough analysis of the pros and cons of each of the methods listed here and how YOU as a reader can show the authors whose fics you read more love and motivate them to produce content.

WARNING; LONG POST! GOES INTO A DECENT AMOUNT OF DETAIL. NOT EDITED, EXCUSE ANY TYPOS.

#1 : LIKING !

I think this is basic common knowledge, and a lot of people tend to do this. When you like the post, the author sees it, you see it, and if the author has their liked posts accessible (which majority of the time they don’t), and if someone deliberately goes to check it, then they see it. See why so many authors say just liking does nothing? Only liking says “Hey, I’m gonna tell you your story is not that good by simply liking it and not sharing it with other people. :D”

♯ PROS:

You’re telling the author that you've read their fic, and either you’ve enjoyed it to a certain extent, or you’re just saving it to read for later.

Likes are seen by you, the author and anyone who has access to your likes (which, most people don’t).

♯ CONS:

If you ONLY like, you’re not really helping the author’s work reach a wide audience because this site isn’t Instagram. Reblogging is the only way people can SEE our works. I’ll cover more on that in the next section.

In a nutshell, liking is good! But you should most likely use it in a combination with the other stuff I’ve listed below, because just the like itself doesn’t really do much in giving the author any feedback or interaction on their fics.

To clear shit up; I’m not talking about those people who don’t read the story or appreciate it in the first place. I’m talking about those who appreciate the fic, like it, but don’t leave any sort of feedback to show that.

#2 : REBLOGGING !

This is SO, SO important. I cannot stress on this enough. Let me explain WHY so many writers stress on reblogging content:

Tumblr’s tag system is inherently fucked up, and has grown more so over the year. I’m not kidding, at first, the fic either used to show up in the tags or it didn’t, but now, sometimes your fic can be REMOVED from the tags because of,,, idk tumblr tag shit. Anyways, as you can see, it’s very demotivating for authors at that point, because the major way for people to find their content and expand their blogs has been blocked.

Due to this reason, tumblr authors need to RELY on you, their followers to help spread their works to a wider audience. Now again, before you get me wrong, I’m not saying you ae forced to rb our works regardless of whether you like them or not. BUT, that being said, if you DO infact like the story, there’s no harm in reblogging, right? By doing this you’re indirectly telling the author — “hey! :D I liked your fic! Which is why I am gonna share it to my followers so they can read it too :D” Trust me, you’re doing nothing but helping the people who produce content for you to read. Seems like a worthy cause to hit the reblog button, right? It’s only a one, or maximum two step procedure.

Leave tags in your reblogs! Trust me, as an author myself and as much as I know from all my author friends, we oft check the tags of your reblogs to see if you found any part amazing or even if you have anything to say about the writing we put so much hard work into. Even a key smash or a “This was so [insert adjective] 🥺” is enough to leave a smile on your authors face.

♯ PROS :

You’re !! Sharing !! Your authors !! Works !! This leads to them getting more recognition, so for the content they’re so graciously providing for free, you’re promoting their blog and helping them expand it.

If the tags are being a shit, which majority of the time they are, then you’re literally making an author’s day by reblogging! You’re showing them that you, a follower and appreciator of their works are willingly sharing their content because it deserves to be seen by more people. Again before any dumb people decide to attack me, i am talking about people who like the fic but don't bother reblogging and are silent/ghost readers. I am not forcing anyone to read anybody’s work.

YOU’RE MAKING YOUR AUTHOR SO HAPPY WHAT MORE REASONS COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT !! 🥺

♯ CONS :

Literally none, because as far as I remember no author is against reblogging of their works. It’s quite literally the way this platform functions. Reblogging is IMPORTANT.

#3 : COMMENTING/SENDING FEEDBACK !

This kind of overlaps with the previous section, but THIS IS SUCH AN IMPORTANT STEP !! When you leave feedback, you are directly giving the author something so much more valuable to them than high follower/note counts or money. Your feedback is literally our serotonin. I kid you not the number of times I’ve received a positive comment and smiled and it has made my day. There’s a reason youtubers (though not the best example, bear with me here because it was the only one I could think of) ask people to subscribe, like and COMMENT. The subscription is like a follow, the like is ofc like a heart, and the comment is equivalent to an rb with comments in the tags.

You might argue and tell me that a comment is basically like an ask so the reblogging step isn’t necessary, but I’m sure 99% of you use YouTube and you know that more comments leads to people’s videos boosted in the stream/trending charts. This is what reblogging does. Reblogging shares the piece with other people like minded, which leads to a boost in reads. You are literally helping your author grow.

It’s quite literally the same thing as youtubers. Youtubers NEED validation to keep their content creation going, so do writers, so do other ccs on this site. This post is however, focused on WRITERS, so keep that in mind.

♯ PROS :

By doing this, you’re giving author valuable feedback! It’s similar to what you do in rbing with tags. Interactivity with their fics boosts their note counts and helps expand their audience, so srsly, now think of it: your one comment is playing such a massive role to help ccs create more content.

Imagine how much of a difference the note counts will be in when every person who simply likes after reading the fic, reblogs, leaves a comment and sends an ask. the note counts would be high on each and every fic, which is validation in itself, but your comments would inspire the writer so much more! Please, don’t skip the commenting part. Even a simple one like: “this is so cute!” is wonderful.

♯ CONS :

Remember, if you’re gonna give constructive criticism (which I’m sure you all are smart enough to know if different from hate), make sure the author is okay with it. Authors need to be in a specific mindset and must be ready to accept criticism, so if you’re gonna give constructive criticism to them when they’re at a low point, it may demotivate them.

Just commenting, instead of reblogging and commenting in the tags/ reblogging and then leaving an ask in their inbox, while it gives validation in plenty, will not lead to the author’s work being spread. Therefore I suggest either reblogging and commenting in the tags or reblog and then leave an ask, or comment under the fic!

!! reminder; I am not saying that if you don’t rb and just leave feedback, your feedback has no value. We authors truly appreciate every bit of feedback, but this post is aimed to help you learn how to interact with and support authors, and make them feel more motivated, because the current scenario of liking and scrolling is taking a toll on their creative abilities. Take it from a person who’s been writing for a year.

#4 : COMMSIONING VIA THEIR KO-FI/OTHER APPS !

Before any of you attack me, let me tell you that this is not a step that is 100% necessary to do. ONLY donate if you can and if you genuinely want to, and if anyone is forcing you to pay for something against your will, you need to get yourself out of there.

Regardless, if an author has a kofi and you’re able to and you want to donate, you definitely should! It’s also a valid form of support.

#5 : ADDING THEM ON REC LISTS/ RECOMMENDING THEM TO REC BLOGS

This is such an underrated option, to be honest. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve seen my fic was recommended onto some rec list and it’s made me smile so hard. If you like some fics, create a rec list! They’re oft very popular amongst the fans too. Making rec posts is such a great way to share your favorite stories with others.

Rec blogs! I’ve seen a couple going around, and needless to say they are a great way to get someone else to read your favorite author’s work whilst also giving them your own feedback. These blogs oft accept recs via a form or ask box, and they leave your feedback along with their own, or else they’ll oft tag the author in the feedback post, so look! You’re basically helping your author share their fic to many more people, because you’ve given them feedback and a reblog.

♯ PROS :

Validation! Feedback! Reblogs! More exposure! Helping a blog grow! Spreading love! basically a run down of the stuff I’ve said before!

♯ CONS :

Literally no con of this. Unless, a one in a million case, this author says they don’t like receiving feedback/being tagged, and I’m sure NO person has said this before, at least none that I’ve heard of.

#6 : FINAL COMMENTS; MISC !

When an author points out about how the interactivity is drastically reducing, don’t just give them blind apologies. Yes, you feel sorry for not interacting as much, we understand, but rather show that you’ll become a better content consumer through your actions. We need to see that we’re not just throwing words into a void and that people are actually trying to be better content consumers.

Understand the fact that authors don’t get paid for this, and 99% of the time, these authors don’t take commissions either. They’re giving you novel worthy writings for free. Take Percy Jackson: You think the author would have felt motivated to write the subsequent parts, let alone two whole series based off of it if literally no one showed that they were interested? Rick Riordan has sales, he is being paid, there are millions of people and big agencies who provide him feedback. Now take that huge amount and simmer it down to an audience of maybe 10000 people This is what fanfic authors want. They don’t want your money, nor are they telling you to risk your lives for them. All they want is, a reblog, some tags, some feedback, some INTERACTIVITY. A sign that they aren’t throwing fics into the void and that people actually like them, some motivation to continue. Seems fairly easy to throw an rb with some tags, right?

Don’t bother to tell me that we do this for ourselves and we shouldn’t ask for likes and reblogs and feedback, because 1) you are consuming the content that we “write for ourselves” and 2) writers post their content here for interactivity and feedback. We could just not post and write and save our fics in our dungeon drafts for years. But we choose to post to entertain the readers, the consumers. And we aren’t even asking that much in return.

Don’t give me the whole “I’m scared that authors feel that comments are annoying” excuse either because seriously this has been DEBUNKED SO MANY TIMES. Istg, in the nicest way possible, if you still think writers are annoyed by interaction and feedback, after so many posts, long rants have been posted as to how we’re not, then you must truly be living under a rock. There, I said it. Please stop thinking this way, I’ll say it again, AUTHORS ARE NOT ANNOYED OF FEEDBACK, COMMENTS, TAGS, REBLOGS. WE LOVE IT. Saying this is like saying that the audience in a theatre play shouldn’t clap when the play ends because the actors would find it noisy. 🤡

I’ve seen some people saying they have anxiety issues and such, so pls note that I’m not invalidating your condition. If you’re trying to be more interactive, I really appreciate it! If you can’t, that’s fine too. You’re trying.

But for the people who have no reason other than feeling lazy to rb and comment, your lack of interactiveness is not excused. Please. Tumblr is a reblogging site. If you’re gonna consume content like authors are some sort of machines, I encourage you to go get some more perspective.

This site is not Instagram or the satan bird app. Your likes are appreciated but frankly speaking, they do nothing to the author except tell them “Hey i read ur fic but i'm not gonna support u :D” and honestly, that is detrimental to their creative capabilities and mental health.

DON’T FOLLOW AN ACC JUST TO MINDLESS RB THEIR SIGNAL BOOST POSTS AND THEIR REBLOGS OF GIFS AND NOT INTERACT WITH THEIR WRITING AT ALL ! Trust me, authors prefer a lower amount of interactive followers than a high count that doesn’t even give them any feedback. Again your follows are appreciated, but when you’re following, you know the type of content the author creates, so the author expects that the more followers, the more interactivity. These days, this is just becoming the opposite. So don’t do it! If you’re gonna follow to read, interact with their works. I promise, this will make both you and the author happy. A win-win situation.

In conclusion: SUPPORT YOUR FUCKING AUTHORS! THEY ARE NOT MACHINES THAT HAVE NO FEELINGS TO PRODUCE CONTENT FOR YOU! FICS TAKE DAYS AND DAYS OF PLANNING, PLOTTING, OUTLINING, WRITING, EDITING, MAKING TEASERS. SO JUST SHOW THEM YOU APPRECIATE THEM WITH AN RB. IT’S THE L E A S T YOU CAN DO.

I will be liking this post here written by the lovely @chaninfused and @scriptura-delirus . Please take time to read it because if you weren’t convinced by my arguments, you will see how much frustration we as writers face on a daily basis. Please, just show support. Here is the post by @stayndays about how to get more people to read your work, because it also has a note on reblogging. Please educate yourself, and put an end to this mindless consuming culutre and bring up some interactivity.

If you’ve read this far, I want you to go to two of your favorite authors and leave some feedback in their inbox, and tag me in it (either tag me yourself or ask the author to do so, they won’t mind). Show your writers that our words are taking effect and you are becoming better consumers. I mean it. I’m serious. I want every single one who reads this post to do this. besides valid reasons, if you’re lazy to do this, you’re a part of the problem. PLEASE get more perspective.

Also, feel free to add to this post! I’d love to read your thoughts too, remember to be kind though. And, if I think your rb is somehow contradicting my points and is bringing down the reason I made this post, I will politely ask you to delete your comment, because this post is about being truthful about the harsh reality of tumblr consumers and how we can change it. I’m sure none of you will let it get to that point, though. <3 love you guys. 💓

And, just a reminder, don’t just blindly like this too. Do what I said before, and while I am not forcing you, I’d appreciate your reblog, because seriously, it took me 3 whole days to write this, plus, I’m sure this will help more of your followers understand the fault in consumer culture. haha, that’s it! This post was way too long uff.

also, this is ur cue to not be stupid in my inbox. You have something to say? Think I worded smth wrongly? I’m sure it wasn’t my intention to do so, point it out with manners.

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spencersmagic · 3 years

Text

a knife twists at the thought - SR

Prompt: a knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark - Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Spencer is new to this, and the poor boy is terrified

Couple: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid (i picture season 2/3 Spencer but y’all do you)

Category: angst

Word count: 3086 words

Warnings: general criminal minds stuff, mentions and descriptions of torture, descriptions of loss, HAPPY ENDING!!, my 3am writing, tooth rotting love, uhmm spoilers for Orwell’s 1984 (if anybody hasn’t read it), humiliation, Spencer crying and breaking my heart (lmk if you need anything warned or trigger tagged).

A/N This is very loosely based on 2x15 (VERY LOOSELY). I’m quite proud of this one :)

masterlist // 505 series taglist

*****

They say you never see it coming.

When a tragedy occurs, and someone’s life is turned upside down forever, they never see it coming. It just... hits them. Like an oncoming car ramming into a bystander who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

No one has time to prepare. In our time-starved lives, there is no place for such a warning.

One day, you just wake up. And they’re not next to you. They’ve disappeared, leaving the stickiest, most unforgettable parts of themselves behind for others to grieve to: the smell of their shampoo in the pillows they used to share, the seconds just as you wake when you still feel like you have them - only to gain full consciousness and realise they left you behind - even the fucking jars, which never seem to be open because he’s just not there to do it.

And you feel your heart breaking all over again as your soul sticks to the parts that couldn’t be erased with the rest of him as he left. Because you needed him, you had him, and now he’s gone. No warning, no letter, no signs which could’ve helped you foresee such a tragedy, because how could he? He didn’t disappear on purpose.

She doesn’t understand why he's so absent. So unequivocally missing. And the person she would turn to to ask these riddled questions isn’t there to answer. Because he’s gone.

But they’re not there yet.

And she feels so close to that feeling - the helplessness, the pain, the empty cups next to her bed because he always carried them to the sink when she was finished with her tea the mornings of those rare days they got to sleep in. Those days when they had time. She can practically touch, with the tip of her fingertips, the waves of pain that would surge over her if he was gone for one more fucking minute.

She has to remind herself, over and over again, like a mantra. He’s not gone yet.

The “yet” at the end of her mantra just breaks her all over again.

She was always the one to tell Spencer “if you worry before something happens, in case it goes wrong, and then it does, you’ve managed to suffer twice through something painful for absolutely no reason”. It usually worked. Needless to say, she felt like a hypocrite right about now.

Because Spencer is gone. And she doesn’t know how to bring him back.

She knows only to watch the monitor, never once blinking, taking in everything that happened in that damned livestream - every word, every sound, every reference. She can only try to hear anything over the whimpers and sobs her love was letting out as he’s tortured by that man. She can only hear the cracks of his knuckles against Spencers soft skin, the same soft skin she had kissed mere hours ago before telling him to “be careful”. Her own way of saying the three little words the couple was too young to hear. She can only see his lips parting, sobs rumbling out of his body as the unsub abuses his frame over and over again - same lips which had kissed her forehead before telling her “i always am”.

Then again, she isn’t sure if its his voice which is filling her head with painful sounds or if her mind is playing tricks on her, memorising the horrifying vibrations coming from his chest for her to ever consider anything else. She hasn’t stopped hearing him since she turned on that damned computer.

She isn’t sure she’ll ever stop hearing it.

As a man of great intellect, Spencer always recurred to knowledge to understand difficult occurrences in his life. Burying himself in textbooks, novels, poems, and even music to understand pain, and himself having a life filled with it, he was an incredibly knowledgeable man.

He knew much. But right now, he only knew one thing.

In Orwells’ 1984, as Winston was being tortured (much like Spencer is right now), Orwell described the following:

“Never, for any reason on earth, could you wish for an increase of pain. Of pain you could only wish one thing: that it should stop. Nothing in the world was so bad as physical pain. In the face of pain there are no heroes, no heroes”.

And, as a man who had acquired most of his intellect by immersing himself in trivial content in the face of pain, he found himself doing the same thing as the unsub hurt him over and over again, each blow seemingly more painful than the last. As his skin bruised, a causality of his abusers torment, he analysed the seemingly logical quote.

It must depend on the person, he was sure. In fact, a number of factors must be taken into consideration at this statement. For starters, Winston lives in a society incapable of any human feelings. There is only dominance, and those who attempt, in vain, to challenge it. Surely, if he had felt happiness, like the one you feel when the first day of spring rolls around, or like the one that creeps up on you as you look into the eyes of your loved one, surely, he would understand that some things can outweigh pain.

Love.

If Spencer’s mind could make sense of what he was feeling right now, he would understand, something he would figure of were he to leave this damned place, that he was thankful to the Gods, were there any, for having the unsub kidnap him and not Y/N.

Winston hadn’t understood emotional pain because emotions weren’t dealt with regularly. They were discouraged. That’s why he believed that there are no heroes in the face of pain. Because he doesn’t understand emotional pain.

He knew he was suffering. He also knew that Y/N was at the other side of the blinking camera suffering more than he could ever imagine.

They say emotional pain lasts 12 minutes. Anything one feels after this would be the aftermath of the cause of the pain in question. Pure emotional pain, the one you practically feel in your chest, the one that says “i can’t think, feel or be. not until this feeling dissipates”.

She had learned this from Spencer.

And she wished it were true. As she watched that damned monitor, she wished that all the venom the unsub was spewing at Spencer, all the verbal abuse, was long forgotten. She wished he could only feel the physical pain. Because the mind is incredibly stronger than the body - it could keep him awake, alive, for just enough time for the team to rescue him.

The entire team had huddled around the monitor around her. She was painfully aware that other people were seeing this. Which meant it wasn’t her imagination. It wasn’t another one of those damned dreams she would have when she slept a little too far away from Spencer’s touch.

They had only been together for two months, but his touch was all that could get her to fall asleep.

She jolted as the unsub landed another slap on Spencer’s cheek, swiftly grabbing his hair for him to look into the camera. He had a cut above his right cheek, just where she would kiss him in the mornings, and bruises all over his neck, jaw and left eye.

“Say hi to your team!” he mocked Spencer, chuckling darkly as he moved his almost lifeless body around for the team to watch in horror. Spencer let out a heartbreaking sob, feeling so vulnerable.

“Why don’t we make this interesting?” he jumped, as if he had gotten an idea. The unsub reached behind himself to grab a pistol, clicking off the magazine safety to put one bullet in one of the eight slots, leaving the other seven free. He pointed it at Spencer’s temple.

Her entire body shook the thought of seeing Spencer’s lifeless body, held up only by the ropes and that sick man’s grip around his curls. The same curls she grabbed as she kissed his face when she wanted his attention.

“I’m going to ask you some questions...” he said, voice dripping with sickening sweetness as he turned the roulette, “and if i don’t like your answer i’ll pull the trigger! Let God decide what I do with you. Sounds good?”. He wanted to humiliate Spencer.

However, Spencer made the mistake of not answering him. He was quickly reminded as the barrel of the gun pointed right between his eyes, pulling the trigger, a loud bang! sound expanding through the barn.

“I asked you a question!” he suddenly yelled into Spencer’s face.

“Y-yes, Sir” he whimpered, shaking at the ease at which the man pulled the trigger.

“Good, you’re learning”.

She experienced it by bits. Hotch’s hoarse voice. “Talk to me Garcia”. “We’ve got coordinates”. Everybody rushing to the SUVs. Tripping over her own feet on the way to the car. Morgan’s voice. The iPad, which still carried Spencer’s whimpers and the man mocking tone.

“I’ve got your diary, Spence” his sing-song voice didn’t match the disgusting man she was looking at. Nothing made sense.

“And I wanna know why...” he drew out the ‘y’ as he looked for something between the worn pages between his hands.

Of course she knew Spencer owned a diary. But she was mature enough to keep her hands to herself and her eyes on her own pages as he wrote on his, eyebrows creasing as he recalled all which he had experienced during the day. His face would twitch slightly at the memories, both good and bad, as he basically described his day word by word.

“...why did you wait until you were 24 to lose your virginity?” he asked in a clear attempt to humiliate and ridicule Spencer in front of his team.

“I-I didn't-” he could barely finish a word before a sob wrecking through his body at the humiliation, chest rumbling and voice wavering. “I didn’t want to lose it before, i w-wasn’t in a hurry” he rushed out. The man brought the pistol to his own chin, tapping it as he thought. “Hmm... I’m satisfied with your answer. Let’s dig deeper, shall we?” he asked as he went back into the pages.

“ooh! This one is new” that sick bastard was having fun with this, completely unaware that the team was less than 5 minutes away from their location.

“Care to read what you wrote three days ago? Right here” he turned the pages so Spencer could read them, though he was painfully aware of that entry he was talking about. His body shook violently. “P-please. D-don’t ma-make me do t-this” he whimpered, body feeling defeated.

“Wrong answer” the unsub said before pointing a gun at him and pulling the trigger.

A shriek was heard from the iPad. The SUV went silent.

“He’s alive” she whispered, unable to speak up. “He-” she swallowed. “He’s alive. We’re not there, yet” her mantra became a reminder that she hadn’t been quick enough to help him. She had the tools to save him. Every second she had the knowledge to save him and didn’t was another second she remained impotent at the risk of losing the love of her life.

Spencer’s voice spoke from the iPad.

“C-can you at-at leas-st turn off t-the ca-amera?” he said between sobs.

And it hit her.

What hurt him the most wasn’t the memories he had to relieve, but the fact that the rest of the team would have to hear his most intimate thoughts. His deepest secrets.

He could bare the pain. The humiliation? That broke him.

“Aww” the unsub chuckled mockingly, “are you embarrassed?” he said, slouching down to look into his eyes. “Well too fucking bad!” he screamed into his face, spitting with every word he spewed at him. Spencer’s sobs got louder.

“O-okay okay!” Spencer caved, accepting the journal that got shoved into his face.

“Read, pretty boy” the unsub sang. That son of a bitch was having fun.

“We’re two minutes away, Y/N” Hotch said. Maybe it was he sobs, which were barely audible to herself, having accepted them as second nature after all the heartbreak she was experiencing, but Hotch needed her to be okay.

His own heart thumped into his chest, feeling as helpless as he’d ever felt. Seeing a member of his team - someone he was supposed to take care of, someone he was supposed to keep safe - was sobbing as he was physically and emotionally tortured. But he was painfully aware of the feelings Y/N was experiencing. The sheer fear that was running down her veins at the idea of them running out of time.

After a few sobs, Spencer started reading, interrupting himself occasionally with his whimpers:

“It’s been three months. Today, three months, seven hours and forty-six minutes ago, she did what I didn’t have the courage to do. She asked me out. “I’ve been wanting to ask you pretty much since the day i met you” she had said. Those words keep ringing in my head like a beautifully written symphony, intrinsically designed to make me face my deepest fears. Opening my scars one by one, dissecting them and reaching the simple conclusion that i was a coward.

She didn’t say it, but what she meant was “i’ve been waiting for you to do it, but you never did, so i had to”. We wasted time - a time so precious and sacred - because i was a coward.

I’ve never felt like this before. I never understood a love so deep as to move something so stubborn as the human spirit. I’ve read textbook after textbook, and novel after novel, and still I’ve never learned more than with her. But I was a coward. And i wasted her time. I fear that I still am.

A knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark. It’s impossible for me to ever be enough for her”.

Her heart broke at this confession. Even worse at the thought that he wouldn’t’ve told her, instead inhaling fear and exhaling rejection at every breath he took next to her.

“We’re here” she heard Hotch, looking at her. She grabbed a bottle of water and dropped the iPad, not hearing the teams objections at the lack of vest and preparation and ran into the barn.

She isn’t sure if she’ll ever stop hearing his whimpers. As she runs closer, she hears them louder and louder, decorated with sobs and cries, and small, meaningless replies to his abusers’ mocking words.

She kicked the door down, the loud bang booming across the room, only helping in raising Spencer’s sobs as he feared the sound had been the result of a certain trigger being pulled. As she looks at him, she realises just how much pain he’s been put through.

She remembers Orwells words, much like how Spencer had remembered them mere hours ago. And disagrees, wishing over and over, praying to the Gods that she would be the victim of such atrocious abuse. She wished she could take his pain. Morgan joined her at her side mere seconds later, yelling. “FBI! Put the gun down!”.

Spencer used the last bit of energy to lunge forward, hitting the unsubs stomach with his head, successfully getting him on the floor for Morgan to apprehend. Y/N rushed to Spencer’s side, untying him, as his now nonexistent sobs grew louder and louder, not only at the prospect of getting out of that horrible place alive, but also at the knowledge that Y/N had heard what he had so dreadfully recited.

Spencer collapsed into her arms, crying into her in the same way she was crying into him, and she wondered just how to take away all his pain. So they cried into each other, desperately grasping each others hair, skin, clothes, anything that would make them feel like they wouldn’t have to spend another damned second without the company of each other.

Spencer was the first to break the silence.

“I need-” he stopped, coughing. She reached for the bottle of water she had brought with her because she knew he would need it. She always knew what he needed.

He chugged it desperately, stray drops falling down his chin at his eagerness. He took a deep breath trying to steady his lungs.

“I need to get out of here” he choked out.

She grabbed him under the shoulders, careful not to hurt him - not being successful, realising that there wasn’t much of him the man hadn’t hurt. Y/N pulled him out, sitting down on the grass with him. Their legs intertwined, pulling each other impossibly closer. They kissed, over and over again. Not as an act of any sexual relevance, but as a reminder that they had each other in any way, shape or form. That they weren’t out of time.

The team was certain they would stay there, never letting each other go for another minute.

After what felt like seconds in their time-starved little world, she broke the silence, which had only been filled with their own cries and occasional sobs.

“Spence” she grabbed his chin to look into his eyes. They were dull, red and hooded. He was exhausted. “Mhmm?” he let out, looking into hers. She was his solace.

“How could you ever think you were anything but completely and unequivocally enough?” she whispered the words he dreaded.

But as Spencer looked into her eyes he knew, better than he had ever known anything, that he was enough. And she was enough. He realised that which she had known for the past three months (possibly longer). They fit like two marvellous puzzle pieces.

Her hands grabbed his cheeks slowly, as to not hurt or startle him, pulling his forehead into hers. “Baby, I can’t imagine anybody else waking up to me every morning. You’re so much more than enough”, she planted a small kiss on his forehead before resuming her position. “I’ll remind you every day of the rest of my life if that’s what it takes for you to believe it”.

And with their eyes closed, foreheads and noses pressed together and legs tangled between each other, pulling each other close, closer - around grass and voices and his abuser pressed into the hood of a police car, they only felt each other. With their shaky breaths, even shakier voices, fearing any words that would leave them in case they triggered a cascade of tears down their oh so vulnerable cheeks, they were more than enough.

***

I hope y’all liked it!! Feel free to let me know by liking, reblogging, or sending me a message :)

super cool kid taglist: @lady-anon-x @spencerreid-mgg @eoupe @inlovewithbabygirl @galaxydefenderjulia @username2002

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