#I never did end up getting antidepressants
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bambi-slxt · 5 months ago
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🤍𝐈 𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠🤍
𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕨 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠
word count: 1.5k
genres: n/a
warnings: mentions of depression medication and mental health, male masturbation
notes from bambi: here you go!
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Matt did see everything. He liked to lurk in the triplet’s fandom spaces, and when his mental health was good, he even found it kinda fun, though he would never reveal this aloud. He definitely enjoyed watching those same spaces work themselves into a tizzy at his knowledge admittance–these kids were so funny. So it came as no surprise to him when the Tumblr TikTok video showed up on his feed.
Matt hadn’t had a good night. He’d tried to jerk off earlier, all to no avail. His antidepressants were helpful for his mood and overall outlook on life but goddamn did they make it hard to masturbate. With a snarl, he had pulled up his boxers and opened TikTok. That was over an hour ago, and now Matt scrolled aimlessly on his private account. He was quite proud of it actually. He disguised it as some random fanpage and had made it a personal mission that week to reblog a few videos about himself. No one would know, and he was nothing if not a Matt girl. 
The video on his Following page was formatted simply–a girl in her room, as most of them were, and he saw it was one of his favorite fan accounts. She always had good takes and the drama in her comment section kept him incredibly entertained. She was expressing her fear at his now-infamous “I see everything” line, and with a chuckle, he pressed the heart icon, preparing to scroll away. In his sleepy haze, he missed, hitting the comment bubble instead. What he saw made his head tilt.
user
   oh ik the tumblr girlies shakin rn
      user
         LMAOOOO REAL
      user
         i’m so lost 😭😭😭
      user
         tumblr can’t be worse than here
      user
         wait what’s on tumbler?
           see all 63 replies៴
user
   bro does NOT see everything, he’d be traumatized
     see all 12 replies៴
user
   @ user WHEN I SAW THAT I SCREAMED
user
   you guys are gonna make them quit if you keep doing ts
     see all 241 replies៴
Matt rolled his eyes at that one. He knew it was a valid concern, but he also knew that there were prices to be paid for being famous, and he would take a few weird stories in exchange for the life of his literal dreams. And besides, he reasoned to himself, they were always so off-the-mark anyway that it didn’t even feel like he was reading about himself.
But back to the matter at hand. Matt had never even heard of Tumblr, so there couldn’t be that many triplet fan accounts on there, and he figured that after everything he’d seen on Twitter, he was ready for anything.
“Well this is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbled to himself, scrolling to the end of the “headcanon”, as it was called. Matt read the name of the “blogger” (he was learning so many new terms tonight) that posted it - some strange amalgamation of letters and numbers, with, of course, “sturniolo” tacked on to the end. Matt elected to keep his thoughts on the spelling to himself. “You’re weird for that. All of it.” He swiped out of the app, fully prepared to roll over, go to sleep, and forget all about it.
But what else did they get wrong about him? What did the rest of them think he did when he had sex? Matt figured he should check that “sturniolo triplet” hashtag one more time. 
He sat up properly for this, sighing as he flicked on his bedside lamp. It illuminated his room, its soft light showcasing the woodsy decorations he’d furnished months ago. With a grimace, he opened the accursed app once more and began a deep dive.
It seemed the entire community centered around “smut” of him and Chris. He saw a few for Nick, a handful for Nate, all of which he scrolled past quickly, blinking them away. He wasn’t trying to dive that deep.
The first thing Matt noticed was that almost every story had a line of photos at the top, like a faux header. None of the images contained anything amiss–all were photos posted by him and his brothers throughout the years, pictures taken by fans at shows, and the like. No, the real stuff lay in the words. This was a community–he could tell that much from the amount of reposting–of very good writers. Many of their stories spanned thousands of words with multiple parts and real plots woven throughout. And there were a lot. It was dizzying. He adjusted himself. 
There were stories for almost every situation, some even making him a drug dealer (though most writers seemed to think that out of anyone, it would be Chris, which he found hilarious due to the fact that Chris couldn’t tell a convincing lie if his life depended on it), a mafia boss, a father, a mechanic, or simply just a doting boyfriend. Some wrote him as a harsh, domineering man, quick to take his bratty girlfriend to task. Some wrote him as a needy submissive individual, and the words they used made his head spin. Matt adjusted himself again. His dick didn’t normally bother him this much. Maybe he needed new boxers. 
Matt himself only had a bit of experience in the wide world of sex. He knew there were some wild kinks out there, but he found he was never much interested in watching that kind of porn, and he’d only been with a few girls his entire life, none of whom had ever asked him to perform such tasks on them, so he really didn’t know what he liked and didn’t like. As he lay in his bed, his lamp casting fuzzy shadows over his room, Matt couldn’t tear his eyes from the screen.
They think I’m capable of actually…spanking someone? Am I? If she wanted it, I guess…Apparently I’m some sort of sex god, super posessive, I have a breeding kink, whatever the fuck that means, and Chris and I fight over girls a lot. To him, that was the most unrealistic–he and Chris had wildly different types. 
The sheer amount of stories depicting him absolutely rearranging the guts of the reader or y/n (he still had no idea what that meant) made his brain short-circuit, and he tried to tap out of the one currently pulled up. But alas, Matt still had no idea how Tumblr worked–the images below every story just took him deeper, and it was one of those images that he misguidedly clicked on, an innocuous lilac purple, covered in sparkles. Seems harmless enough.
As Matt tapped around, trying to get back, he found himself on another account and thoroughly lost. An underlined word in the first post caught his attention–concepts. Subtitled below were the words, “short headcanons about the triplets! both sfw and nsfw”. He tilted his head. ‘Sfw’? What does that mean? A quick Google search quieted his questioning. Surely a “safe-for-work” headcanon would be fine to read. He tapped the link, and it directed him to a simpler page, one organized using just his name and Chris’s, each one with links below them. His thumb hovered over one near the top, its title mildly intriguing–“soft!dom!matt”.
Then he paused. Was he really doing this? His dick began to throb. He should have just left the whole thing alone, but now…well, now he had to know. 
Five words in and he was pumping his rock-hard cock in his hand. Matt’s neck strained, his left thumb shaking as he tried to scroll to read more. Such a short piece of fiction and yet…
His stomach began to tie itself into knots. The more he read, the more he panted. His whole pelvic region felt tingly and his cock was so warm in his hand, and getting warmer by the second. This was different than anything he’d ever jerked off to before–this wasn’t a video, or even a naughty selfie from a girlfriend. This was pure porn, about him bringing some unnamed girl to completion over and over again. Matt didn’t even know that was possible. The unnamed girl couldn’t even handle his cock, that’s how tight she was-
The moment he realized this fact, his nuts clenched and he spurted cum all the way up to his chest. Pumping furiously, even raising his hips into his hand, he continued his explosive orgasm, letting out breathy groans as he did so. His chest heaved with heavy breath, and Matt felt the beginnings of a headache forming behind his eyes from how hard he’d just finished. He collapsed on his bed, sheets askew, pillows rearranged, staring blankly at the ceiling.
And then Matt realized which head had been doing all his thinking for him this entire time. Letting his now-limp dick flop to the side, he let out one more gasp of air. “That was weird,” he said aloud into the empty room. “Never doing that again.”
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notes from bambi: i referenced my own work because it didn’t feel right to use anyone else’s without their consent, and i wanted to put this out today, not because i think my writing is better than anyone else's or because i think matt would prefer mine over yours. remember that it’s all just fiction and we write for fun. i hope you all enjoyed!
request to be on the taglist under this post right here
tags: @pinksturniolo @malirosee @st7rnioioss @nonat-111 @cindylcuwho @evie-sturns @h3arts4harry @fanficsbymia @dazednmatthews @sturniolo-rat @mattsmad @sturniolo04 @bellasturn @blahbel668 @yomamaslays4lyfe @stasiesturn @pleasantlycrazyworld @ariqolyx @wh0resstuff @krissy4gov @coochiedestroyer1 @madisturn @mattspolitank @sturnsxplr-25 @xtravrgnoliveoil @raysmayhem-72 @sturnpooks @certifiedstarrr @melanch0lybby @freshloveforthefit @xoxo4chrisss @stunza @meerkatzthings @zivall @sturniolopepsi @that1fangirll @wh0schl0 @sharksworldd @mattscoquette @chrisslutx @sturnzsblog @solarsturniolo
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pennyellee · 4 months ago
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐗 - 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐚
LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU
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pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au
summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.
Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.
warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, mentions of antidepressants, anxiety, panic attacks, nightmares, mentions of night terrors, mentions of self harm, manipulative behaviour, mentions of labotomy, medical cases, intimate life, diseases, “failed” pregnancy, alcohol, medication, etc.
beta read by @chaoticpuff17
word count: 8,7K
disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.
A/N: so yes, it took me a while to actually finish this chapter and as I mentioned - it’s shorter than what I usually want to write for lacrimosa. Truth to be told, this is what I can do for now till I get something better to write on. I don’t know when the next chapter will be written and up, so for now thank you for your patience, i actually didnt think i would write a chapter whilst im in US coz the only device on my person is my phone, but im very happy I managed to write something. This chapter is more of a prequel go what’s going to happen next. Many of you actually guessed/predicted some things right and for some you have to wait till the very end, we’re near it.
Massive thank you goes to @chaoticpuff17 who managed to beta read it despite both our situations being crazy rn, ily queen 🥹🫧🩵
Love you all, p.
m.list previous next
lacuna (n.) a blank space, missing part
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The night was relentless, a symphony of thunderclaps and the steady drum of rain against the cobblestones. The celebrations of the famous Kkangpae toned down, and after some months, several trips to the barren debris land of where Yakuza reigned, they returned safely to the sanctuary.
Back where she cannot hide from him in the stables, kitchen or sunroom, switching from one room to another just to not be in his presence for longer than she wanted. Yet, he managed to steal her away when his frustration boiled up enough. Y/N could’ve hinted how much she doesn’t want him to sleep next to her all she wants, he kept sneaking in and out every time. Yoongi was patient, determined even. Determined to make things right this time by giving her space. But the wrenching feeling of not having her close enough consumed him, night, day and moon.
Yoongi kept his promise, giving Y/N the space she needed while gradually attempting to rebuild the trust that had been shattered. He was careful with his words, patient in his actions, and ever attentive to her unspoken needs. The pair worked on their friendship these past weeks, he wanted himself to be her person. The person that she would love and lean on.
But the young Buin might seem calm now, from outside, but her wit remained under the surface. She buried herself deep within her psyche and doctor Kim could do very little to “repair” her. Not even renown specialists who came to give the young girl a helping hand did not succeed.
Yoongi watched her from a distance yet at the same time he was so close, his heart aching with the knowledge that he was partly to blame for her withdrawal. He had been too harsh, too controlling. Now, he was paying the price. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, to whisper apologies and promises into her ear. But every time he approached, he could see the fear and distrust in her eyes. It was a barrier he didn't know how to break.
Wang Xiaoqing’s wisdom was passed onto her, they whispered. But truth to be told, the elder woman, may she rest in peace, underestimated the new blood. The following legacy. Now, her kin suffers.
Yoongi wishes he never used the letter as leverage against her nor let her read it. At night he wonders whether that would change things. Whether by now she would be in love with him just as much he’s in love with her.
He sat down with the rest of his family at the dinner table after she broke down with yet another panic attack. The dining room was oppressively silent, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension. It wasn’t even the end of January, and the snow was still prevailing outside. Yoongi sat at the head of the table, his expression a mask of stoic resolve, though his heart was anything but calm.
Y/N was conspicuously absent, her chair at the table glaringly empty. Yoongi's mind replayed the scene from earlier, the look of sheer panic in her eyes as she had crumbled under the weight of her emotions. He had wanted to reach out to her, to offer comfort, but he knew his presence would only worsen her distress.
Clearing his throat, Yoongi broke the silence, his voice strained but firm.
“I know you care about me. About this family—”
“I’ve made mistakes—mistakes that have pushed her to the edge.”
“No, Yoongi—” the right hand man straightened himself in his seat interrupting his leader.
Yoongi’s eyes flickered with a mixture of frustration and sorrow as he turned to face his right-hand man, Namjoon. The room held its breath, tension crackling in the air.
“Namjoon, please,” Yoongi said, his voice weary. “My wife slit her throat, stop justifying my actions.”
Namjoon hesitated but nodded, leaning back in his chair, his expression still troubled. Yoongi took a deep breath, steeling himself to continue.
"I pushed her too far, and now she's breaking—”
“Now, I don’t know what your intentions are with my wife, but I forbid you from whatever you are putting into her head.”
Namjoon's eyes widened in shock at Yoongi's words, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for the right response. The weight of Yoongi's accusation hung heavy in the air, and the room seemed to grow even quieter, the tension palpable.
Yoongi's jaw clenched, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. He had always trusted Namjoon implicitly, had relied on him as his closest confidant and advisor. But now, in the wake of Y/N's pain and suffering, he couldn't help but wonder if that trust had been misplaced.
“All of you.”
“Yoongi, I swear—” Namjoon began, his voice tinged with desperation. But Yoongi held up a hand, cutting him off.
“I don't want to hear it, Namjoon,” he said, his tone final.
“Whatever it is, I’m giving her the space to tell me herself.” Namjoon's gaze faltered under Yoongi's intense stare.
“I would never intentionally do anything to harm Y/N or come between you two. She's like family to me, too.” Yoongi's jaw clenched tighter, but he nodded curtly, acknowledging Namjoon's words.
“Seokjin.” He addressed the oldest man in the room.
“Yes, Yoongi?” Seokjin replied, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.
“She’s still taking those pills you gave her,” Seokjin's brow furrowed in concern at Yoongi's words. They were only a temporary solution before Seokjin decided that day to put her on barbiturates. She needs his help and if he cannot help her the way he knows it will be most effective, he’ll at least prescribe whatever will tone down her night terrors so she can sleep at nights.
"I'll talk to her," he said firmly. “But you know what would certainly help her—” Yoongi’s hand flew high to hit the table, making everybody twitch at the loud noise.
“No, Seokjin. No.” The family members exchanged solemn nods. Yoongi took a moment to compose himself, his chest heaving with pent-up frustration.
"She needs more support than we can provide on our own. We have to consider what's best for her.” Yoongi struggled to find the words to express his feelings. "I know, Seokjin," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "But that is going way too far.”
Namjoon leaned forward, his expression earnest. The youngest at the end of the table cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him, waiting for his input. Jungkook hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of the tension in the room, before speaking up.
“Maybe you just need to stop shielding her in. Let her live a life—” Jungkook's suggestion hung in the air, a fresh perspective on the situation that caused the family members to exchange thoughtful glances.
Yoongi's brow furrowed as he considered Jungkook's words, the idea of allowing Y/N more freedom conflicting with his instinct to protect her.
“But what if she runs for the hills, Kook.” Park Jimin’s voice echoed from across the room, his hands busy pouring the strong liquor to seven crystal glasses. Yoongi's gaze flickered towards Jimin, setting the first glass in front of him.
"I can't bear the thought of her running away from me again," Yoongi admitted, his voice heavy with emotion. Hoseok nodded in agreement, his expression sombre.
Jungkook nodded thoughtfully, understanding Yoongi's apprehension. "I get where you're coming from, hyung,—” Jimin set down the last glass of liquor, his expression sympathetic.
“I’d say, nonetheless, she needs something to occupy her mind other than those thoughts.” Said Jimin sitting down on his chair while nursing his own glass of the booze.
"Maybe if we can find something that brings her joy, something to distract her—” Seokjin nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful.
“She studied, tasted her own freedom and now all she’s left with is being your wife.” Yoongi's heart clenched at Jimin's words, a pang of guilt washing over him. But still a large part of him was thinking why it is not enough.
“She can work with me once she’s better.” The doctor interjected. Yoongi's gaze shifted towards Seokjin, a flicker of hope igniting within him at the suggestion.
"You think she'd be up for it?" Yoongi asked, his voice tentative yet hopeful.
“Ah hyung you’re so in the dark—” Jungkook remarked. Jungkook sighed, his gaze meeting Yoongi's with empathy.
“She needs to feel like she has a say in her own life, like she's not just living for someone else.” Where this newfound wisdom arose, Yoongi did not know. But he was glad for the support of his family men.
Hoseok placed a reassuring hand on Yoongi's shoulder, his expression filled with empathy.
“She knows so much about herbs, remedies, I think she’ll be happy to help Seokjin.” Yoongi's heart swelled with gratitude for Hoseok's insight. He hadn't fully realised the extent of Y/N's knowledge and interests outside of their marriage and that needed to change.
“Don’t tell her just yet.” The right hand man remarked.
“Yes, I want to give her more time to recover before we come back to the sanctuary.” The other family members murmured their agreement, a sense of solidarity and understanding settling over them. After all, at the end of the day it is a happy wife, happy life.
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But months later, Y/N understood that if there’s even a slight possibility that the scarred leader will grow for better, it would be a painfully long process. She realised so once he returned with his knuckles all bruised and bloodied one night. She tended to them, and he was basking under her touch. Despite everything, she couldn’t ignore the humanity in his pain.
Her eyes rolled and a loud sigh followed when she understood what was the cause of his lapse of senses. He had let his frustration and anger take over him, but rather than put it out on everyone else like he was known for, he silently left his office to vent his anger elsewhere. She guided him to sit down after she asked the maid to bring her everything she needed to clean his wounds.
Yoongi watched her, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and excitement under her delicate touch. The feel of her hands, so careful and tender, was both a comfort and a torment. The imagery masking all the darkness that loomed over them, they would fool even the Lord himself that this couple is one of love.
They sat in silence, the only sound the soft rustle of bandages and the distant rumble of thunder outside. Yoongi closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes to him. She avoided him less and less. So why did he have to let his steam off so suddenly?
“You know—” she began, focusing on his other hand now.
“You’re not really setting a good example of “communication is the key ”, now do you?”
Yoongi's eyes flickered open at her words, a hint of guilt flashing across his features before he quickly masked it with a neutral expression. He couldn't deny the truth in her statement, nor could he easily articulate the tangled mess of emotions that swirled within him.
His mind drifted back to the hushed whispers, the concerned looks from Seokjin. Y/N was still fairly weak in terms of her health. Yet, he hoped that maybe, just maybe, she’ll come to tell him he’s going to be a father. Foolish of him, he knows. Selfish of him, he knows that too.
“I’m sorry, Dove.” He only muttered, forcing a kiss to her sphenoid bone, it was the only affection she rarely allowed him to show. Y/N knew that if she wanted to persuade him that she isn’t a flying risk, she’ll have to allow him to do more. She progressed slowly, with patience and space to breathe everything out.
The reason the young leader needed to vent his anger was obvious to Y/N. She heard the maid that so blatantly spied on everything she did, what she asked for, and whom she talks to on the telephone. Y/N was cautious, yet today, she had to ask for some feminine goods. She understood where his hope for a baby came from, he got himself to believe that once the monthly bleeding did not come the first, second nor the third month.
The young gal, however, knew that this has nothing to do with the possibility of her being pregnant. She still drank the remedy, just to be sure, and for her peace of mind as it bore too many demons already. The fourth month her body decided it’s time to function again and of course the devoted maid reported that right back to her husband whose hope for a child vanished.
“I was hoping we could go see Ma and little Bo Cheng before the wedding, I promised to teach him how to ride a ho—” she began her request carefully. Y/N had managed to negotiate Daiyu’s extended vacation in America with her young son and Kai, yet she couldn’t shake the strong feeling that Yoongi had only allowed such a thing to happen because he felt indebted to her at the moment. Her state was far more delicate than he thought and he desperately wanted to make her happy. The one thing she wanted the most, he couldn’t grant. Freedom.
“Would that make you happy?” Yoongi interrupted. He sighed, his eyes drifting to the window where dark clouds gathered on the horizon.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, a small, hesitant smile tugged at Y/N’s lips. It was a fragile thing, easily shattered, but it was real. And in that moment, Yoongi vowed to himself that he would protect that smile, nurture it, and help it grow.
“Yes, it would. Maybe we could also pay a visit to Daiyu—” Y/N sucked her lips in and shyly smiled again. Yoongi nodded slowly. He sighed, leaning back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the armrests. The weight of their precarious situation pressed down on him, the knowledge that every decision could have far-reaching consequences hanging over them like a dark cloud.
“I’m not sure about that, sweetling,” he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. Her heart clenched, did he understand her intentions?
“You said you’ll give me the world, Yoongi. Why not this?” Y/N’s smile faltered, a flicker of disappointment crossing her features.
Yoongi’s gaze softened further, a mixture of regret and longing in his eyes. He reached out, taking her hand in his, his touch gentle and reassuring.
“I will consider this trip, but we have to be cautious now. War is looming on the horizon.” He explained, his tone serious.
“What do you mean war? You’ve just won one,” she challenged, her voice laced with disbelief.
“The world is a volatile place, Dove. Our battle was nothing in comparison to what is to come. The world will fight—” Yoongi’s expression darkened, the weight of their past victories suddenly overshadowed by the looming threat of conflict. Y/N’s heart sank at the mention of war, a cold knot forming in the pit of her stomach.
“Until we’re certain there’s no threat, I want us to remain in Korea, my love.” he declared, his final words.
Y/N’s heart sank at his words, but she forced herself to nod, understanding the gravity of their situation. The war threatened to consume them all, and they had to tread carefully if they were to survive. Y/N nodded slowly to his words.
“She wrote to you this morning, didn’t she?” Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that she’s running out of time. If they were caught up in the chaos, she feared she may never leave this place. And with Yoongi’s resolve to remain in Korea, their window of opportunity grew smaller with each passing moment. It was worth the shot, he wouldn’t let her slip that easily if there’s an actual threat that the world’s will battle.
“She met someone,” Y/N added softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty of how Yoongi will react. He, however, already knew. There was nothing that would go past him or so he thought.
"She met someone?" he repeated, his voice tinged with false scepticism. Y/N's heart ached at the doubt in Yoongi's voice, but she held firm in her conviction.
“She’s a widow with a child, who—”
“Happy widow with a child—” she inserted herself into his remark. "She deserves it, Yoongi. After everything she's been through, she deserves a chance at love and happiness.”
“Daiyu is no longer tied to the syndicate. You promised not to meddle with her affairs unless she needs help.” She reminded him less gently, her voice tinged with a hint of caution.
“I intend to keep that promise.” Lie. He already knew the man who so openly started to court her. A sense of relief washed over Y/N as she watched Yoongi's resistance soften, even if it was pretended.
“The rain won’t stop pouring—” Y/N’s voice trailed off, a sombre note creeping into her tone as she glanced out the window at the stormy sky.
“How do you feel today?” Yoongi observed Y/N for a moment, his expression softening as he took in her weary demeanour.
“Better than yesterday.” She replied, her voice carrying a hint of resilience. Yoongi nodded, a sense of relief washing over him at her response. Despite the challenges they faced, he was grateful for every moment of peace they could find amidst the storm.
He noticed the subtle signs of improvement in her appearance. Her cheeks, once sunken and lifeless, now held a hint of colour, and the dark circles under her eyes seemed less pronounced. Her eyes sparkled differently, not with tears as of late. Whatever Seokjin is doing to help her, it is working.
“Have you slept well?” he inquired gently, his voice filled with genuine concern. From Monday to Friday, storms reigned over the hidden valley. Yoongi reached out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face, his touch tender and reassuring. Her dark hair grew enough to reach past her shoulders since the unfortunate event back in October.
“It wasn't the best, but it was better than before.” Yoongi nodded in understanding, his gaze lingering on her with a mixture of admiration and concern. He knew that even the smallest victories, like a few hours of sleep, were worth celebrating in their tumultuous world. After all the night terrors she endured for months.
“How’s working with Seokjin?” He knew how demanding their roles could be, especially in the midst of ongoing turmoil. Yoongi expected her to sigh just as softly as she always does, her expression to reflect the weight of responsibility, but none of that happened. Y/N smiled at him brightly instead.
Y/N's smile was like a ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds, momentarily dispelling the shadows that lingered around them.
“Work has been great. I've been able to help so many people—” she replied, her voice infused with a sense of optimism that Yoongi hadn't heard in a while. As she spoke, Y/N’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm, a stark contrast to the weariness that had plagued her in recent months.
“Did you know that punk, Jungkook, pretends to be sick every other day just to swing by?” Y/N’s voice was filled with amusement as she recounted the antics of the youngest of the seven. Though older than her, she did not feel any age difference between them two.
Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle at the mention of Jungkook's antics.
"That sounds like him," he remarked, a fond smile playing at his lips. She continued, her words flowing freely as she recounted her experiences while working with Seokjin at the clinic.
“Seokjin has been a wonderful mentor,” she continued, her eyes shining with gratitude. “He’s taught me so much more than we actually studied at school—” Yoongi nodded in agreement, a sense of pride swelling within him as he listened to Y/N's tales of their work at the clinic.
“I remember this one young man who had sustained severe burns on his arms. The sight of his injuries was heart-breaking, but I could see the determination in his eyes to overcome the pain.” Y/N’s voice softened with emotion as she recalled the moment.
"We worked tirelessly to stabilise him, and when he finally regained consciousness, the look of gratitude in his eyes made all the long hours and hard work worth it. It was a reminder of why I wanted to be a nurse in the first place—to make a difference in people’s lives, no matter how small.”
Yoongi listened intently, his heart swelling with a mixture of emotions. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret for not allowing her to pursue her passion for nursing earlier.
He may not be able to undo the past, but he could certainly make sure that she had all the support she needed to thrive in the future. The youngest was right. She needed this, she needed to regain her purpose in her life. To be someone for herself.
He realised how much he had underestimated her need for work, how vital it was for her to have a sense of purpose and fulfilment. There was still hope and goodness.
Yoongi listened to all the stories she had to say as for the first time since forever, there were no tears, no screams, no tension in the air. Just the calm, steady rhythm of their shared breaths.
“You know,” Yoongi began, his voice soft, "I'm proud of you. Proud of everything you've accomplished and the progress you’re making. I should have let you do this sooner.”
“Can’t change the past now can we?” He nodded to her remark solemnly, squeezing her hand.
“Tell me more,—” he urged, eager to hear more about her work, her passion. He wanted to be part of her world just like she is part of his, to support her in every way possible.
Y/N smiled, her face glowing with happiness. “Well, there’s this little girl named Jang-mi. She’s been coming in for treatment regularly, and despite everything, she's always so cheerful—”
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Y/N pulled her coat tighter around her, feeling the icy water seep through the fabric. Her breath came in shallow gasps, mixing with the cold air to form small clouds that dissipated as quickly as they appeared. She huddled beneath the overhang of a small alley, her body shivering uncontrollably. The once comforting weight of her coat now felt like a burden, soaked and heavy.
Her mind raced, a chaotic swirl of fear and desperation. The past few days had been a whirlwind of terror and confusion. She had trusted the wrong people, made alliances that crumbled under the weight of deceit. Every step she took seemed to lead her deeper into a labyrinth of danger and uncertainty. She couldn’t afford another mistake; the stakes were too high. The sound of her own heartbeat was loud in her ears, a constant reminder of the life-or-death game she was playing.
A sudden flash of lightning split the sky, casting stark shadows and illuminating the alley in a harsh, white light. For a brief moment, everything was clear and sharp, every detail etched into her memory. That’s when she saw him.
At the mouth of the alley is where he stood , his figure backlit by the brilliant light. He was drenched, his hair plastered to his forehead, but he seemed unfazed by the torrential rain. His presence was as menacing as ever, a dark silhouette against the night. His eyes, however, were what held her captive. They were dark, deep pools of unreadable emotion, reflecting the storm’s fury.
Yoongi didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply watched her, his gaze intense and unwavering. It was a look she had seen before, one that sent chills down her spine. It was the look of a predator sizing up its prey. She knew then, with a sickening certainty, that no matter how far she ran, he would always be one step ahead.
Panic surged through her, threatening to overwhelm her senses. She pressed herself against the wall, the rough brick scraping her skin through the thin material of her coat. She needed to think, to find a way out, but her mind was a blur of fear and fatigue. The rain continued to pour, the cold seeping into her bones, making her limbs feel heavy and uncooperative.
Yoongi took a step forward, the movement slow and deliberate. His boots splashed in the puddles, the sound muffled by the storm. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, a wild, frantic rhythm. She felt like a trapped animal, cornered with no way out. The alley was a dead end, and Yoongi was blocking her only escape route.
“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the noise of the storm. “You can’t keep running.”
His words were a cold, hard truth that she didn’t want to accept. But she had no choice. Every attempt to escape had led her right back to him, like a cruel game of cat and mouse. She swallowed hard, her throat dry despite the rain. She had to keep fighting, had to find a way to break free from his grip.
“I won’t let you control me,” she said, her voice shaking but determined. “I’ll find a way out.”
Yoongi’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, perhaps, or admiration for her defiance. “You’re stronger than I thought,” he said, taking another step closer. “But strength alone won’t save you.”
He was close now, close enough that she could see the droplets of rain clinging to his eyelashes, the way his clothes clung to his body. His presence was overwhelming, a dark force that seemed to consume all the light around him. She knew she had to act, had to do something before it was too late.
Summoning every ounce of courage, Y/N pushed off the wall and lunged towards him, hoping to catch him off guard. But Yoongi was ready. His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist with a grip like iron. She struggled, twisting and pulling, but he was too strong.
“Let me fucking go!” she cried, her voice breaking with desperation.
Yoongi pulled her closer, his other hand coming up to cup her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You’re mine, Y/N,” he said softly, his breath warm against her skin. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Even if it means protecting you from yourself.”
Tears mingled with the rain on her cheeks as she realised the futility of her struggle. Yoongi’s words were a chilling promise, one that she knew he would keep. She was trapped, caught in a web of his making, with no way out.
The storm raged on around them, but in that moment, all Y/N could feel was the cold, unyielding grip of the man she used to fear, and the inescapable reality of her situation.
Y/N woke with a start, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the remnants of the nightmare clung to her mind. Her body was drenched in cold sweat, and her heart pounded wildly in her chest. For a moment, she couldn’t discern reality from the dream, the vivid images of the rain-soaked alley and Yoongi’s menacing presence still haunting her.
It was a memory that was hidden in the back of her mind to resurface when she’s the most vulnerable. It had happened a few times already, her mind showing her each time she attempted to escape the scarred leader.
She took a deep breath and listened to the mix of crackling fireplace and raindrops outside. His eyes were on her petite physique, his hands holding a book he was reading while she took a well deserved afternoon nap. He put down his reading glasses and ran a hand through his hair, closing the book and turning her attention to her.
“Which one was it this time?”
She turned to see him sitting beside her, his eyes filled with worry. The contrast between the Yoongi in her nightmare and the one before her now was stark. Gone was the cold, calculating predator; in his place was a man who genuinely cared for her well-being. He did change a little. Or maybe he was like that before but his selfishness didn’t allow him to show her his bright side.
Her legs moved to his lap when she was asleep, and he gently rubbed circles into her ankles, his touch soothing for once.
“Will you keep me safe?”
Yoongi's expression softened further, his gaze unwavering as he looked into her eyes. He knows that there were moments that haunt her till now. Moments he let happen with his cockiness.
“Always,” he replied, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “I’ll keep you safe, no matter what.”
“I just... I don’t want to be afraid anymore,” she admitted, her voice breaking slightly.
“Just rest, Dove,” Yoongi murmured, his voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. “I’ll be right here.”
After a few silent minutes, Y/N broke the calm silence.
“Can we play the piano?”
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Together, they moved to the old piano in the corner of the room. As they sat side by side, their fingers tentatively began to touch the keys. Each note was a delicate thread, weaving together a tapestry of their unspoken emotions. The music became their secret language, a way to say everything they couldn’t put into words.
Every time she did not feel like speaking herself, they played. Until she felt better. Yoongi played with a gentle intensity, his fingers dancing over the keys with practised ease.
He was a better player, so she thought. Afterall, he had had more life to practice.
The medication made her more open to him. Sooner or later she’ll have to get off of it before it will become her only source of happiness. There were days it made her sleep well, drink, eat, breathe and live like the person she used to be. And there were days she sat in front of her vanity mirror knowing this effect is only temporary.
She cannot afford to get off of them while she’s remaining by his side. Her being would not take it and the prospect of freedom would be scarce. It blunted negative emotions which worked in the scarred boy’s favour.
It was working, but it was a question of time when she’ll develop tolerance and they won’t work anymore. That’s why Seokjin is desperately trying to convince Yoongi that he’ll have a way to help her. Permanently.
Yoongi knows that it would be just another mistake he would have to write under his name.
“I’ll always keep you safe,” he whispered again, his words a promise and a plea. And in the quiet aftermath of their duet, she almost believed him.
In that fleeting moment, she wasn’t running, and Yoongi wasn’t chasing. They were simply two souls, lost in the music, trying to find their way back to each other. One more than the other.
His hand moved to cover hers on the keys, their eyes meeting in the stillness that followed. The world outside ceased to exist, the rain and the fire a distant backdrop to the intensity of their shared gaze.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Yoongi leaned in, his breath mingling with hers. Her heart raced, not with fear, but with a different kind of anticipation.
Their faces were inches apart, the unspoken words hanging in the air between them. His eyes flickered to her lips, then back to her eyes, seeking permission, seeking assurance. Y/N’s breath hitched, her mind a whirlwind of emotions.
“Unnie?!” Xiaoli's voice rang out, bright and oblivious. “We need to talk about—”
“Can you keep me safe from my own sister?” She scoffed playfully. His chuckle bounced on her lips as his lips still hovered just a breath away from hers, the paper door swung open with a sudden, sharp creak.
Taehyung stepped in behind her, his eyes widening as he took in the scene. "Oh. We’re... interrupting, aren’t we?”
Yoongi pulled back slightly, his expression darkening as he turned to face them. Y/N felt the moment slipping away, the fragile connection disrupted.
“What is it?” Yoongi asked, his voice strained with barely concealed irritation.
“You invited us to have dinner, Hyung.” Taehyung reminded him, his tone a mix of apology and amusement.
Xiaoli’s eyes darted between Yoongi and Y/N, realisation dawning on her face. “Oh... we’re really sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in, Kkangpae Min.”
She apologised, still not her but always to him and him only. Y/N forced herself to smile. The woman that her sister became is not the same one she grew up with.
“There was nothing to interrupt, don’t worry,” she waved it off and Yoongi sighed, the tension in his shoulders evident.
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The fleeting moment of intimacy with Y/N hung heavily in his mind. Before, during and after the dinner. He was extravagantly close to feel her lips on his again, just for the moment to be swept away.
Dinner was a mix of awkward silences and forced conversation. Xiaoli and Taehyung tried to lighten the mood, but the air was thick with unspoken words.
Yoongi, for his part, seemed distant, his mind clearly elsewhere. Every so often, his gaze would meet hers across the table.
“Will you come next week?” Xiaoli asked, sipping her wine.
Y/N, momentarily distracted from her thoughts, looked up.
“Next week?”
Y/N glanced at Yoongi, who was already looking at her. She hesitated, unsure of committing to anything he did not allow earlier.
“Yes, Y/N promised Bo Cheng to teach him how to ride a horse, and I have some business to attend to.” Yoongi cleared his throat, breaking the silence.
“I could teach him,” Said Xiaoli, a bit jealous that their brother wanted Y/N to teach him when she was right there in the hotel.
Once Xiaoli and Taehyung will be with each other for eternity, the family of three then, will take their leave back to China.
The Triad leader attended his own business trips while his wife and children stayed with the “allying” clan.
He doesn’t know. None of them knows what Y/N did to herself, apart from Xiaoli, who herself doesn’t know every detail. They spreaded white lies to cover this “lapse of senses”. A misstep. Y/N hides the fading scar carefully to avoid any explanation. She wished to not tell them, and the kkangpae did not object to her wishes anymore. Whatever she wants, she gets. Usually, most of the time if she’s reasonable and clever about it.
The past months painstakingly helped them to get better. Or so Yoongi thought. Her priority was never to be his good wife, her priority is him thinking she will be his good obedient loving wife and when he won’t expect her to seek freedom anymore — she’ll disappear.
“I don't know about that, honey. You remember that nasty fall you took last year?” Her husband-to-be said nonchalantly. Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion.
“Fall?—“ she asked, doubting his words.
“What are you talking about?” Xiaoli herself was surprised at his words. She did not recall any falls. Y/N knew Xiaoli isn’t the best rider, but she was decent enough to hold any situation that would make her fall from the horse under control.
“I don’t remember that,—” she said, taking another long sip from her glass.
“You’d certainly remember falling from a horse. Why don’t I know about this, Yoongi?” Said Y/N turning herself to the quiet man.
“I was having a hard time keeping you here as you loved to go for a run back then. It must have slipped my mind—“
“My sister falling from a horse slipped your mind?”
“He did not know Y/N, until a lot later. Right, Hyung?” Taehyung smiled sweetly at her, defending his Kkangpae. As always. Y/N clicked her tongue and gifted Yoongi with a penetrating stare creating another layer of tension in the room.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He cleared his throat, attempting to gather his thoughts. The last thing he wants is to mess up their relationship again.
“You’re right, love. I should have told you once I got to know that,” Yoongi admitting guilt is a new trait he acquired these past months.
“How did she fall?” Y/N aimed her question at Taehyung as her sister clearly doesn't remember it.
“It wasn’t probably that bad if I don’t remember it, Unnie. Don’t worry about it anymore—“ the younger female answered before her fiance had the chance to do so.
Y/N sighed loudly but the hand under the table that was gripping her younger sister’s thigh was not seen by her eyes.
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It was hard to keep focus, especially with Seokjin constantly needing her assistance at work. His stern demeanour and meticulous nature kept her on her toes, but she appreciated the distraction. She knew why she was at his beck and call. Yoongi demanded so. Under any circumstances she ought to be next to Seokjin.
The ambulance in the sanctuary was significantly smaller than the big sanitorium in the town, but there was still some work to do here too.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and studying her intently.
“The usual,” she murmured, filling today’s report. Seokjin watched her for a moment, then brought the courage to ask.
“Have you been intimate?” Y/N dropped the pen at once and with wide eyes. She stared at him. The question came out of nowhere nor was it called for.
“Wh-what do you mean intimate?”
“Exactly what I said,” he replied calmly, not breaking eye contact.
“Have you been intimate with Yoongi again?”
“I don’t see how this is your business, Seokjin.” She felt her face flush with heat, a mix of embarrassment and anger.
“I’m not trying to pry. I’m your friend, but I’m also your doctor, sweetling—,” he said softly.
“Your health and well-being are my concern,” Seokjin explained. “And you know that if something’s affecting you emotionally or physically, it could impact your health.”
Bullcrap, he is in fact prying.
She was silent for a minute, trying to comprehend how he is taking care of her being this late. If she wouldn’t attempt to kill herself, these concerns wouldn’t be as great. But Y/N cannot afford to break havoc. She can’t go on rampage as she wants every single person here to think that she is moving towards being a good obedient wife of the Kkangpae. Even though she wants to scream to each and one of their faces about how much they failed her. How much they hurt her. Yet, patience is the key. Breathe, sleep, eat, endure.
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, then decided to change the topic.
“What about your wife?” Seokjin’s eyes flickered with surprise before he masked it with a neutral expression. Y/N barely knew the woman. Matter of fact she has seen her maybe three times since the wedding.
“Very much pregnant,” he said, his voice a mix of pride and weariness.
“Oh,” Y/N replied, taken aback. “I didn’t know. Congratulations, I guess.” Here comes another thing that Yoongi managed to keep from her.
“Thank you, my dear,” Seokjin said, a small smile touching his lips. “It’s been… an interesting journey, to say the least.”
“I can imagine,—” Y/N said, sensing there was more beneath the surface.
“Can you imagine yourself on that journey?” Seokjin interrupted, his gaze searching her face.
She pretended that the question took her by surprise, looking down at her hands to not give herself away.
“I don’t know,” she admitted softly. He is testing her. “It’s hard to think about that kind of future with everything that’s going on.”
Seokjin nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s understandable. But it’s something to consider. Maybe a baby would help you to shush your demons away.”
Y/N’s heart raced at the suggestion, and she forced herself to maintain her composure. “I… I don’t think a baby is the answer, Seokjin. There’s so much I need to sort out first.”
“Sometimes, having something to focus on, something to live for, can make all the difference,” Seokjin said gently.
She nodded, still feeling uneasy about the direction of the conversation. Opting not to give more than she would want to by not answering his remark and going back to finish the report.
“Just know that you have options. And that you don’t have to go through any of this alone.”
“Thanks,” she replied, offering a small smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Of course she won’t.
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Y/N entered the dimly lit room where Yoongi was sitting, his face illuminated by the soft glow of a lamp. He looked up as she closed the door behind her, his expression softened once he looked up from the papers. The office in the sanctuary remained the same apart from the fact that now the young Kkangpae occupies it far more often than before.
He took his glasses off and pushed himself away from the desk creating a space for her to come and stand in front of him, leaning against the massive wooden desk. Her hands felt the warmth of the wood that had been heated by the lamp, reflecting the same heat that radiated between them.
“Did you ask Seokjin to put thoughts into my head?” she asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.
Yoongi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t ask him to, but I knew he would at some point try to give you some wisdom. What did he say?”
“That a baby would be the right treatment for me,” she replied, her voice tight with frustration.
Yoongi’s eyes widened slightly, then he closed them and exhaled deeply.
“I’m sorry, Dove—“
“Do you think that too?” she asked, searching his face. “That a baby would magically fix everything?”
Yoongi shook his head, stepping up from his chair and closer to her. “No, I don’t. A baby isn’t a solution to our problems—“ she didn’t believe one word that was coming out of this mouth. He wouldn’t break his knuckles this hard if he didn’t want the baby that Y/N took care of not happening anytime soon. Her system was full of herbal remedies. And now that she knows, the herbs flowing in her system are working, she can use that to her advantage.
“But that would make you happy right?” She countered, seeing through him. Softening her mimics to appeal to him.
“Well, yeah, I want a family with you someday—“
“Someday? The bandages on your knuckles says that you’re pretty eager to have it now—” she scoffed and murmured under her nose.
Yoongi’s eyes for once reflected something she couldn’t quite recognise. There was a mix of desperation and longing that flickered there. His hand reached out, trembling slightly, and cupped her cheek gently.
“Dove, I want us to be happy, truly happy. But I know bringing a child into this world won’t erase your pain or solve our problems. We need to fix ourselves first—” His thumb brushed her cheek tenderly.
“I’m sorry for being selfish, my love,” she felt a tear escape her eye, rolling down to where his thumb could catch it. She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning into his touch because that’s what always softens his edges.
After months, she has learnt what strings to pull to make him move just the way she wants to. Yet, Y/N knows that he isn’t that stupid to believe she suddenly wants to live with him happily ever after.
“I can pour us some wine. We can play the piano after dinner, hm?” He could feel her vulnerability, her heart laid bare before him. Or so he thought as she wanted him to think that. His hand continued to caress her cheek softly, his touch gentle yet laden with unspoken longing she sensed each time he attempted to get closer to her.
She nodded, a small pretentious smile playing on her lips as she stepped closer to him. The tension between them lingered.
He pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her forehead. “We will be good. We just need time with each other.”
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He sat first, patting the space beside him, inviting her to join. Her fingers brushed the keys, eliciting a soft, mournful note. A melody that echoed in her mind far too often. An anthem for hurting. Weeping symphony, tears of sorrow.
He became far too respectful towards her boundaries which essentially was ruining all of her plans. Her fingers pressed the keys with delicate touch even when she wanted to smash them rock hard.
“Why this song?” She let the question hang in the air for a moment, her fingers poised above the keys as if weighing his words.
“Do you know what they interpret it as?” She finally said, her voice soft, barely audible above the lingering notes. Her eyes, once masked with a facade of calm, now revealed a flicker of the anguish she carried.
“Tell me,” he flipped the page of the notes book for her to continue the song.
“It’s a tale of unspoken grief, of wounds too deep to heal and shadows that never leave.”
He felt a shiver run down his spine as she said that. Part of him understood what message she was trying to leave and part of him wished he’s wrong.
“I view it as love lost and dreams shattered. They say it’s a lament for those who wander through life carrying burdens no one else can see.”
He carefully listened to all her words, all the notes she played, all her feelings she shared. Her fingers moved over the keys, each note a whisper of sorrow.
“The scars I carry inside,—“ His hand reached out to touch hers, a gesture of comfort. Stopping her from playing more.
“Let me help you carry that weight—“
“You created it in the first place.”
His eyes widened, a mixture of guilt and realisation flooding his expression. She pulled her hand away.
“The scars I carry, the emptiness I feel, they all trace back to you.”
His mind raced to comprehend the depth of her pain, trying to understand her intentions. It’s not like he ever expected her to say it out loud.
“You created emptiness in me Yoongi—“
He felt his heart clench with guilt and regret. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. It was nothing new. She heard his apologies but she was yet to accept them
She turned back to the piano, her fingers resting on the keys but not playing. “Intentions don’t change the past,” she said softly. “The pain remains—“
“But the future can learn from mistakes.”
“I will. I’ll learn—“ He began before she interrupted him.
“You need to fill the space now.” His eyes lit up listening to her words. In his mind, this was it. The holy grail. In her mind, she was wrapping him around her finger before she would bounce away like a pebble on the pond.
“Heal me if you must.”
These were her last words before the distance between them shrank, the intensity of their emotions drawing them closer. He leaned in, his heart pounding in his chest that she could almost hear it but Y/N didn’t pull away.
Their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss, a delicate brush that spoke of apology, of yearning, and of promises yet to be fulfilled. Her heart cried and the song remained echoing in her mind.
As they pulled back slightly, their foreheads resting against each other, Yoongi felt a warmth spread through him, chasing away the cold shadows of regret. She looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. His thoughts were swirling with one thing only — this was the real beginning of them. And it was the beginning.
The beginning of the end.
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I N T E R L O G U E
The walls were lined with bookshelves, each shelf overflowing with dusty tomes and old papers. A large, ornate desk stood in the centre, its surface cluttered with stacks of documents.
Seokjin rarely sends her to this room as they also rarely stay in the hanok the sanctuary has for medical assistance to those who live here.
She approached slowly, her fingers brushing over the worn leather of a chair before settling on a stack of yellowed files that he asked to bring. It was then when her eyes caught the opened crimson red files that laid flat open on the desk. The ones that the doctor forgot to take with him the other time he had to run and tend to the lady of the house in the middle of the night. They stayed there, laid open, for several weeks. Touched by a thin layer of dust on top of it.
Kim Seokjin is renowned in his field of practice. Yet, this was going to be his great mistake. Inside, there were detailed medical records, notes written in a precise, almost mechanical hand. The words on the pages made her stomach churn—phrases like “prefrontal lobotomy,” “behavioural correction,” and “psychosurgical intervention” leapt out at her. She read on, horrified by the cold, clinical descriptions of procedures that seemed more like torture than treatment.
Her hand flew to her mouth to not let the wailing cry away.
Trembling, she pushed the file aside and reached for the next one. Not bearing what they’ve done to her sister. Y/N’s hands shook as she read through the files, each word a dagger to her heart. The clinical detachment with which the procedures were described made her feel sick. These were not just medical records—they were accounts of inhuman experiments carried out in the name of science, or more so — control.
The name on this file was all too familiar, it was Jin’s wife. He must have done it before the wedding as she seemed far too calm. Her heart pounded in her chest as she opened it, fearing what she might find. The contents were similar—detailed accounts of medical procedures, records of a lobotomy performed in a desperate attempt to “cure” her of what the notes described as “hysteria” and “unmanageable behaviour.”
Y/N felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She stumbled back from the desk, her mind reeling from the revelations. The room seemed to close in around her, the shadows deepening as the weight of what she had discovered settled on her shoulders.
The name on the empty file under those made her anxious, hysteric even more as the tag had Min Y/N written on it.
She wiped her tears but they couldn't stop falling.
“Y/N?”
.
.
.
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©pennyellee. please do not repost
Love you all!! ♥
Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥
keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction. Nor in this case, I'm a medical professional.
let's be friends chummers 🫧♡ ︎
lots of love, p.
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fagm0m · 6 months ago
Text
Mom who posts on a forum about how she feels guilty for taking advantage of her son being on antidepressants because he gets oh so sleepy during the day.
vrmom1970: Hello fellow moms! I'm a frequent viewer of this particular forum space, but today I make my first post! I did a bad thing today. But it felt so...good. So exhilarating! LOL! My transgender son (22) has been depressed for quite some time after his girlfriend broke up with him, and so he was prescribed some antidepressants to help him deal with it. However, the antidepressants make him terribly tired! Yesterday, he was asleep on the couch, looking so peaceful and cute. I went to put the blanket that was hanging off of him back over him, when I noticed he had on no panties! Along with that, his tits were spilling out of the only article of clothing he was wearing, a tank top. I've seen my son nude before, he practically is a nudist the way he's allergic to wearing clothing unless guests are over. Anyway, I don't know what came over me. I went to go and tuck his breasts back into shirt, they were very soft, areolas big and round (just like mine!) nipples hard and plump like gumdrops...something disgusting and nasty took over me, because without a second thought, I put his breast in my mouth! I started sucking and groping them, like a madwoman! I never knew I could be so perverted and taboo, but even as I write this my girldick is throbbing just thinking about it! Ugh! I think reading you ladies posts has turned me into a fully fledged pervert! Anyway, I think I was sucking too hard, because he started moaning! I quickly pulled away and he turned over, covering himself with the blanket. I let out a sigh of relief before I headed upstairs and instantly had to relieve myself! I came as hard as the first time I stumbled upon this forum two years ago, cum shooting all over my own face as I laid in bed thinking about how I sucked my son's breasts, and about what else I would've done had he not started stirring! My gosh, I think I'm gonna have to go pleasure myself again, so this ends this forum post! I will keep you guys updated on if I decide to do something like this again! xoxo :)
comments:
badmamabutchbitch: next time try and slide a finger in for me ;)
wildestdesiree: wow that was so hot! how big are his tits? i bet his t-dick is huge!
leatherfagmom: I just came reading this. I'd love to see you shoot ropes all over his face. >:)
[deleted user]: HORNY Local Moms are looking to fuck in your area! Sign up and get laid today! www.localmoms.com
auntrena: one of my favorite commenters finally makes a post! so exciting! First of all, WOW. I can't believe your first encounter already had you with a mouthful of your son's tits! Secondly, we need part two! I'm soaking wet right now as I sit in bed on my laptop! Imagining you were sucking my nipples was so hot! Next time try and see if you can suck his dick or even get him to suck yours! Eagerly awaiting your next post! xoxoxo!
[deleted user]: you have a dick? wtf
vrmom1970 reply: Kill yourself!
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lexirosewrites · 5 months ago
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Okay not slick Sunday related but you like angst and I got inspired. Sorry it ran away
So it's post s4, Eddie starts withdrawing. Steve thinks it's from the party in general, but it's just him. He's kind of hurt/insulted and decides after trying to reach out that if Eddie doesn't want to know Steve and all that if what he said in the UD was bs then he doesn't get to know him as a person, though it kind of hurts cause he has a small crush on Eddie. He’s bi, thought Robin and Eddie were aware at least even though they’ve never talked about it.
Well cut to him finding out that everyone else is hanging with them, inviting them separately to things until Steve find out that the party, including Robin went to go see a movie (the lost boys) and Steve was so excited to see it with Robin. (They do this as to keep the peace not malicious intent) So when she's not available Steve goes by himself to stare at the guys and ladies in the movie, except when he gets there he sees the whole party front row and it breaks everything he got left. He feels excluded, like everyone was kicking him out.
So Steve withdraws, the few calls that come he ignores, or he rejects offers to hang out. He starts switching shifts with Kieth and then just stops showing up and quits. I like to believe his mom is a good but misguided mom, so she's worried about her boy. She takes him to Indiana for a doctors appointment.
He goes on these meds to help with his depression episode, (I'm basing this off how my therapy worked) once a week he has to go to Indiana for therapy appointment. So on top of that, his mom starts to think maybe he’d be better off in a larger city, closer to his therapist, maybe find a school that she can persuade her husband to let Steve attend. She knows her husbands is just an attachment best that runs her parents company. She brings it up as softly as she can and Steve promises to think about it, give his friends the benefit of the doubt.
So it’s the end of summer, the kids are going back to school for the 1987-1988 school year, everyone is getting together before everyone goes to schools across the country, Steve decided to host the party. Robin is over the moon that her platonic soulmate seems back to his old self (once again basing this on my own history with antidepressants) if not more bubbly. His mother is there, tanning as all the kids play in the pool, keeping an eye on her boy.
It’s the happiest she’s seen him in the last few weeks, even though his bad days are still prominent. Alls good until Eddie and his Uncle show up, cause he had invited them, he was part of the party, but there was a lingering atmosphere about them. The kids and Eddie are splashing in the pool, Steve just withdraws watching them letting Robin do the rambling she does. She’s going on and on about stuff and starts a story where Eddie had taken her to Indiana to her first gay club and she got to kiss her first girl and she’s just so excited and happy and Steve is just frozen.
That’s what he was planning to do, help Robin meet her own community other than he and Eddie, to branch out. He’s happy for her she’s finally gotten a kiss, but she just gushing about how Eddie did this, Eddie did that, and some part of Steve’s brain just gave up. To him he was finally replaced in Robin’s life.
Without a word and shaking hands, Steve just walks to his mom and whispers that he wants to go to Indiana and start a new life. She just nods and walks him inside and away from others, of course Robin follows (I don’t know, maybe worried or angry that Steve just blew her off after ignoring her for so long). Either way, his mom lets him lay down in the downstairs guest room, away from prying eyes.
She’s already planning the move and her connections while shooing Robin outside. So plans are made, after the party, the week school starts there is a for sales sign and moving truck.
I feel like Dustin would be the one to find them on the way out, ready to tell Steve about his exciting first day as a sophomore. Steve just tells him that he’s gotta move on, that he’s just a phone call away. He’s all but begging Steve, asking who he’d spend time with and watch movies. Steve just tells him they can do that over the phone or he can get Eddie to hang out.
Steve leaves with his mom while Dustin goes and begs Eddie or the others to stop him from leaving. Of course no one knew and the only thing left was a note on the door to Eddie asking him to watch over the kids.
Steve lives better, going to school to be a teacher. He’s got an apartment that he lives in just off the school Campus. It’s been a few years, calls between the group and the kids are graduating. Of course Steve has to go back for graduation, he surprises them. Dustin refuses to not let him go and Robin and Eddie sit and catch up. He comes clean about how he felt pushed out and needed help to work through everything and once he finishes school he may come back.
Let’s just say when Steve talks to them about his last few relationships and they’re just shocked cause they had no idea that Steve was bi. Steve just plays it off that but admits that he had the tiniest crush on Eddie which makes him sputter and ask why he hadn’t said anything. Steve just says he knew Eddie didn’t like him so he wasn’t going to bring it up which leads to both talking out their misunderstandings and apologize.
Let’s just say if there’s a few trips to Indiana for Eddie in the future and then when Steve decides to go back home they become “roommates”
god i am such a sucker for steve suffering and thinking nobody loves him🥺 (don’t read too deeply into that)
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amoosarte · 9 months ago
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𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐄, 𝐌.𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍
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SUMMARY ! in which Max never cared about what happened to him on the track but when he sees them crash, his heart broke, he had ruined their dream.
FACECLAIM ! gender neutral, WARNINGS ! mention of suicidal thoughts, blood and traumatic things ahead !
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Max never cared for his life, he wouldn't care less what happened to him on the track. The antidepressants that sat on his dresser just kept him in check, long enough for him to put a barrier.
He thought of other things, he will not deny, he's thought of ending it short but when his little sister did it before him, it made him snap.
He never liked hospitals, hated the gut wrenching feeling they gave. Max was almost a regular there because of his sister, she wasn't suicidal, he thought. She was just weak, not the healthiest. but it wasn't her fault.
His life was perfect, he will admit, his life was filled with things many people could wish for, but he himself was traumatized on the way as well.
Max was special, his sister described him. He was a gentle soul that had just been misunderstood most of his life, he's never been allowed to expression emotion off the track. She regretted making him scared, he didn't deserve that but she was just tired of it.
She was glad after that day, he started to take of himself, she didn't like it was because of her but it was something.
After the incident, Max expressed more towards his sister, called her before every race, just for her to pray for him, begging god to take care of him on the track.
Max gripped the steering wheel on his car, his eyes burning holes into the lights as they flashed. red, red, red, green. Then he took off from his first place spot.
Max never cared for his life, he wouldn't care less what happened to him on the track. But he did care for the other, he would try to drive ahead sometimes, try to get away from the crowd, not to cause accidents, but it was also apart of the job.
Las Vegas was difficult, a very risky race track. Max however was prepared for it, he always was. However when he was sparks fly during the 40th lap, his heart dropped.
You had hit a manhole, making him step on breaks not wanting crash into you but he did, causing you to hit another manhole, resulting in your car being flipped, then harshly shoved into the barricade, only to spin off the track.
Christian was on the other side of comms, telling Max that there was a red flag in the air. Max's blood ran cold, you got hurt and it was all his fault, he immediately put his car in the pit lane.
Max could only see what was happened in the television inside the garage, his engineers stood in shook, scared and speechless. Max was scared, he genuinely looked pale.
"It seems as Red Bull Driver Y/N has been in a fatal car crash near turn 14th, my god.." Max eyes widen, your car was beaten, turned over and they couldn't see you.
Three harsh turns, the dark navy blue car was roughly scrapped on, the front wing was pulled off, now the only thing protecting you was the halo. But you didn't move.
Max could see every driver watch in horror as they try to pull you out of the car, they could see blood spill out of your track suit. They pulled your numb body out as they held the wound, calling emergency over.
Your helmet was pulled off, only to see strokes of blood reek down. Your eyes were open but you couldn't feel anything, your were simply motionless.
Max could see Christian rush off to help assist, and take you to the hospital, then they moved on like it was nothing, they were back to racing in a matter of seconds.
He placed 3rd that race.
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And I won't, see you again...
He never liked hospitals, hated the gut wrenching feeling they gave him. The first he saw was you plugged up to the life support machine, you having needles poking in your veins, then your dead eyes.
Max felt compelled to apologize, he wanted to apologize.
He could see your eyes follow him as he sat near you, placing a vase of flowers near a filled table of them already. He bit his lip and held back tears as you still smiled at him.
"I'm sorry, I really am." Max words broke you, as you saw the boy cry for the first time. Your okay arm held his hand, squeezing it tightly. "It's not your fault Max, it's just my bad luck."
You could see it in his eyes he still felt guilty,and it broke your heart. "Max, I don't want you to blame yourself, it was an accident." You squeezed his hand tightly once again, making him nod. After a few more minutes of you comforting him, he asked again.
"Will you come back, will you be okay?" You didn't have the slightest clue if you were, but the boy in front of you was dying to know, he was stressed and sorry, so the best thing to do was to lie.
"You know I always bounce back, don't worry dude." You jokes a bit making him feel reassured. You hated lying, but you knew damn well this was over for you.
You knew it was over the moment Christian came into your hospital room, giving you a sad look on his face, his face said it all, and you let your wall crumbles down, and let the water drip down.
It had been a week since your crash in Las vegas, now it was now the day before the second to last race of the season, and your announcement was released.
"Hello everyone, today I will be announcing what will be of me for the rest of the season. First things first, I will not be joining F1 again. Take this as my announcement of retiring."
"Some other things, This accident was no ones fault but mines, I will not blame my teammate and my friend for this accident. It was simply and accident."
"I want to thank everyone for being so kind to me these past 2 seasons, you were all wonderful and I'm glad I could experience it with you all. To my team who opened their arms towards me and welcomed me in, you were all wonderful to be around, these seasons of working together, I’m grateful to you all, to my teammate, it was a pleasure working with you, I’d do it again in a heartbeat if I were given another chance.”
“To my fans, thank you for supporting me through this journey. To be loved by many people is a blessing and you were all there to see me at my weakest and my strongest, I pray you all understand why I’m doing this.”
“I leave wishing all love and accomplishments and acceptance, I’m just another driver that will pass by, thank you for giving me a chance to live my dream, even if it was just for a while.”
With that the video cuts and there was no more of you.
To say the least, everyone was shocked, I mean they could sense that something was going to happen to you, but you retiring was something that no one could see coming.
Many drivers had called you, messaged you, expressing their feeling about this, and how they were going to miss you.
Max on the other hand didn't take the news okay, he was back into a rather depressing state, it little space he could never get out of, no matter how many antidepressants he took.
He wouldn't lie, he felt like the bad guy in this story, he had taken your dreams away. Yet again here you were not blaming him, he felt like it was his fault but it wasn't.
He had called you the day of the race, needing to tell you he was sorry one last time. Only to hear you forgive him and not to blame himself because in the end it was accident.
It only took a while but he could hear you cry on the other line, sobbing lightly, still reassuring him. You wouldn't lie anymore, you were hurt.
Racing had been your dream since you were little but now you were forced into retirement because your brain didn't work normally anymore, Because the lack of skill.
If you were a bit better you'd miss that manhole, and you would be finishing your second season. To finish your dream, but everything that's good comes with a price.
Max could only stand still on the podium, where he stood at P1. He raised his trophy, hoping you knew this was for you. Everything he would be doing was for you, because he wanted you to live your dreams through him.
You're not a person, You're my friend..
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MENTIONS ! @landitolover, @moneygramhaas, @d6za1, @ch3rryknots @louvrepool
𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉, ⟢ more!
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fortheloveofwonderland · 8 months ago
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Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 20 FINAL | S.R
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Previous Chapter
Chapter Summary - It’s eight months later and Spencer’s life has changed dramatically. Did he ever get his happy ending?
A/N - Final chapter folks! 'Bout time, right?
Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader
Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.
Warnings - some light angst but overall long overdue fluff. WC - 5.3k
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Chapter 20 - First Day of My Life
And I don't know where I am, I don't know where I've been,
But I know where I want to go.
And so I thought I'd let you know,
Yeah, these things take forever, I especially am slow,
But I realised that I need you,
And I wondered if I could come home.
“How did you find me?” 
“I know a guy.”
“What do you want?” 
“It’s time we had a long overdue talk.”
“What could we possibly have to talk about?” 
“Spencer. We need to talk about Spencer.” 
***
Eight Months Later
Spencer Reid had a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he slotted the last handful of books into their new home on the bookshelf in his new office. 
He ran his fingers over the spines and the smile started to take route, blossoming and growing until it reached all the way to his eyes. 
He surveyed the room, tucked away at the back of the second storey of his new home. His old trusty desk sat beneath the old bay windows with the most gorgeous lighting drifting in through the open curtains from the surprisingly glorious winter day outside. 
He slid into his leather chair and brushed his fingertips over the dark wood desk. 
He’d officially moved into the old gothic style house back in the fall and the rest of the home had come together nicely. But his office had been a slow process, a tiring process. 
This room more than any others in the new house had to be perfect. He would be spending a lot of time in this room and it had to be just right. And after weeks of shuffling furniture around, it finally fit his criteria. 
Eight months ago Spencer had made a decision about his future. He’d quit teaching, never returning to Georgetown after the summer break. Instead he struck a deal with BAU Unit Chief Emily Prentiss. 
On the weeks Maeve had the girls he would work from Quantico or go away with the team on cases. When he had the girls he would work from his home office as a consultant. 
His FBI badge sat next to his computer along with his new credentials and every time he looked at them he couldn’t help but smile. 
The BAU was his home. In all the years since he’d left he’d felt like something was missing from his life. But now he had found his way back to his rightful place in the world. 
It allowed him to feel fulfilled in both his home and work life. He didn’t have to give up any of his precious time spent with his daughters and he was able to work a job he loved with every fibre of his being. 
Since the incident the night of the art show, Spencer had not had a single sip of alcohol. He was closing in on nine months sober and honestly he’d never felt better. 
He still took his antidepressants, but a much lower dose now and he’d quit seeing Doctor Sanchez months ago. 
His relationship was Maeve had slowly repaired itself over time to the point he would now call her one of his closest friends. 
Eight months ago he would never have believed he could be this happy again. But it just went to show what a little hard work and determination could do. 
He ran his fingers over the desk again as he got to his feet. He walked past the desk and across the room. 
In the doorway he turned back for one last glance around the room.
Yes, everything was falling into place. 
***
You fought with the zipper on the back of your dress, huffing and puffing through excretion. When you finally got the thing all the way up your arms fell back to your sides and you let out a large breath. 
You gave yourself a once over in the mirror, turning this way and that and scrutinising your appearance. You’d looked better, that was for sure. But given the circumstances you didn’t look half bad. 
The pile of papers on the dresser caught your gaze through the mirror and you rolled your eyes as they seemingly taunted you. 
Tomorrow was paperwork day. Today there were more pressing things at hand. 
You’d received your doctorate in August and since Doctor Spencer Reid’s sudden resignation from the university you had taken over teaching his classes. 
It wasn’t your end goal, but for now you couldn’t deny you loved teaching. Maybe one day you’d look elsewhere but as of right now you quite liked your place in the world. 
The past eight months had been a whirlwind to say the least, and where you’d found yourself was not at all where you imagined ending up. But you couldn’t pretend you weren’t happy where you were. 
You moved over to the bed, your stomach coiling a little as you sat down on the edge of it. You slipped your feet into your shoes as your mind wandered back some eight months. 
“How did you find me?” You scrutinised the woman on your doorstep, recognising her from one fleeting sighting of her some time ago. 
“I know a guy.” She shrugged simply. 
“What do you want?” You folded your arms across your chest. 
She was the last person you expected to see here and the last person you wanted to be face to face with. 
“It’s time we had a long overdue talk.” She mirrored your action and crossed her own arms. 
“What could we possibly have to talk about?” You scoffed. 
“Spencer.” She rolled her eyes. “We need to talk about Spencer.” 
Having the former Mrs Reid show up at your apartment had thrown you through a loop. You’d been so shell shocked you’d actually invited her inside. 
Maeve proceeded to tell you all the reasons you needed to give Spencer a second chance. She explained to you why he’d lied to you about not being in love with you, how he was simply trying to protect himself from getting hurt again. 
She went into great detail about how she knew you and Spencer belonged together and that you were the loves of each other's lives. 
You hadn’t spoken much, simply listened. And when she left she tried to put the whole thing behind you so you could move on. You still had no idea to this day how she knew where you lived and could only assume someone at the BAU had given her the intel. 
Two months later you’d gone back to work to find Spencer had quit the university. And for some reason the thought of never seeing him again undid all the hard work you’d put in over the summer to get over him. 
“Y/N?” He blinked at you as though he wasn’t sure he trusted his own eyes. “Uh, what are you doing here?” 
“Can I come in?” You hugged your arms around yourself. 
“Yeah, sure. The place is still a mess, I literally only moved in a few days ago.” He held open the door to his new home and let you inside. 
Boxes were piled up all over the place. A couch and a coffee table were the only visible furniture. 
“How did you know where I live?” He hovered between piles of boxes. 
“Maeve,” you croaked. “She came to me a few months ago and left me her number. I didn’t ever expect to use it but when I found out you’d quit I just…I wanted to know why. So I called her and she gave me your address, said she has the girls this week.” 
“Maeve came to you? Why?” He frowned, scratching at the back of his head. 
“She wanted to explain some things. About you. About why you lied to me.” 
“Right,” his frown deepened.
“So why did you quit?” 
“That’s why you came here? Really? You want to know why I quit Georgetown? I haven't seen or heard from you in months and that’s what you came here for?” He looked at you somewhat indignantly. 
“They offered me your job. I just want to know if you plan on coming back before I take it.” You shrugged. 
“You got your doctorate?” His lip quivered into something resembling a smile. 
“I did. So are you coming back or can I take your job?” 
“I rejoined the BAU.” He rolled his lip between his teeth. “Not a full caseload like I used to work, I can fit my hours around the girls now Maeve and I have joint custody. It’s where I belong.” 
“Fine.” You finally let your arms fall to your sides. “That’s all I came here for.” 
You turned away from him, back towards the old mahogany front door with the stained glass window in the centre but you didn’t get very far. 
“I shouldn’t have lied to you.” He spoke and when you turned back around he was a few steps closer to you. “I thought I was protecting us both but really I was only hurting us.”
“I didn’t come here for this.” You shook your head. 
“Well you certainly didn’t come all the way out here to ask if I was coming back to work.” He chuckled dryly. “I may always have complicated feelings towards my ex but my feelings for you are anything but. I love you Y/N. I love you more than words can describe and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please don’t walk away. Please give me another chance.” 
Your eyes misted with tears but you were not going to let them fall. You bit the inside of your cheek in hopes of keeping them at bay. 
You straightened your back, clenched your jaw and spat a simple, “no.” 
You pushed yourself up, wobbling slightly as you did so. You pinched the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes to try to ease the dizziness. 
You gave yourself one last look in the mirror, smoothing down the front of your dress which was a little tighter than you would have liked it to be, before shaking your head and pushing out of the door. 
***
“You really don’t have to do this.” Maeve rolled her eyes at him through the mirror. 
“Oh please, I’m great with kids.” Spencer scoffed, nudging the rocker a little and smiling down at the little dark haired bundle of joy. 
“Well yes I know that,” she huffed, toying with the strap of her dress. “But it seems weird to have you look after my son.” 
Little Elijah, Daisy and Lily’s half brother, was twelve weeks old and Spencer had almost forgotten how tiny babies were. 
“It’s really no big deal. He’s my daughter’s half brother, he’s basically family.” He shrugged. 
“And what a weird family we are.” Maeve laughed as she turned back to face Spencer. “So, how do I look?” 
Spencer glanced up from baby Elijah and onto her and tears immediately filled his eyes. He stood up and crossed the room towards her, gaze flicking up and down her frame. 
“Good gosh Maeve,” he breathed. “You look incredible.” 
“Don’t cry.” She shook her head. “Because if you start I’ll start.” 
“Sorry, sorry.” He shook his head, rubbing his eyes with his palms to try and dismiss the tears. “But seriously, you look amazing.”
She smiled at him, glancing down at her white, satin dress. She felt like a princess, and judging by Spencer’s reaction she looked like one too.
“Thank you,” she took hold of his hands and squeezed them. “And you’re sure you don’t mind watching over Elijah for the day?” 
“For the one hundredth time I do not mind at all. For the record, I hate weddings anyway so this kinda works out great for me. If he cries I have an excuse to leave early.” He smirked at her and she removed her hands from his so she could slap his bicep. 
“You’re such a cynic.” She rolled her eyes. 
“What can I say?” He shrugged. “I heard eloping is all the rage.” 
She rolled her eyes yet again. 
“Can you believe we’re here? I never in a million years thought I’d ever get married again.” She sighed wistfully. 
“I always thought when I got married it would be forever.” He nodded. “And after all we’ve been through I never thought we’d end up here.” 
“Friends you mean?”’
“Is that what this is? Huh. Good to know.” He chuckled, yet again making Maeve roll her eyes. 
She turned her back on him again and toyed with her hair in the mirror. Spencer moved back over to where baby Elijah was dribbling down his chin, making little gurgling noises. 
He picked up the rocket and attached it to the frame of the stroller so he was ready to make a quick exit when needed. 
Just then the door to the bridal suite flew open and his two boisterous daughters barrelled in, wearing their matching purple bridesmaids dresses. 
“Mom!” Daisy gasped. “Oh my gosh you look amazing!” 
“Mom you’re so pretty!” Lily agreed excitedly. 
“Thank you sweethearts.” Maeve turned and held her arms open for the girls who quickly embraced their mother.
“I mean, I’m also here.” Spencer shrugged. “I thought I looked pretty good too.” 
“Shut up dad.” Daisy rolled her eyes at him. 
“Yeah dad, you’re not the one getting married.” Lily also rolled her eyes. 
Since turning eight a few months ago, Lily had started becoming more and more like her sister by the day. Spencer couldn’t remember the time she’d called him daddy or the last time she’d asked him to read to her. 
Life was moving way too fast for his liking. His little girls were growing up, soon enough they’d be leaving him. Now wasn’t the time to get down about it though, he still had exciting things in his future. 
“Fair enough,” he sighed. “I’m going to take Elijah and get a seat. Try not to upstage your mom, kiddos.” 
“He’s such a dork.” He heard Daisy say. 
“Yeah who says kiddos?” He heard Lily reply. 
He smiled to himself as he left the room, pushing Elijah’s stroller towards the large ballroom down the hall. 
Soft music played through small, indiscriminate speakers, as people started taking their seats either side of the grand aisle. 
Maeve had always dreamed of a big wedding, their own nuptials at city hall had left a lot for her imagination to desire. And Spencer was glad she was finally getting everything she’d always wanted. 
He came to a stop by the door where Bobby, beaming with pride, was waiting to greet people. He spotted Spencer and his son heading his way and waved at them. 
“Hey, how’s my little man doing?” 
“I’m not bad, thanks.” Spencer joked, now making Bobby roll his eyes. “Oh you mean Elijah? He’s good aren’t you buddy?” 
Bobby crouched down and cooed over his son for a moment or two, placing a kiss on his forehead before standing back to his full height. 
“Thanks for being here, man. It means a lot to Maeve that you approve of this.” Bobby smiled a gentle smile at him. 
“I just want her to be happy.” Spencer shrugged. “And I’ve never seen her happier than when she’s with you.” 
Bobby extended his hand and Spencer took it, shaking his ex-wife’s soon to be new husband's hand. 
It was probably extremely weird if he stopped to think about it, but that was a thought for another day. 
“Are you happy, Spencer?” Bobby surprised him when he asked. 
A smile toyed on Spencer’s lips as he closed his eyes briefly and gave thought to his life. When he opened his eyes again his smile grew. 
“You know what? I really am.” He nodded. 
Bobby patted him on the shoulder before Spencer took the stroller again and headed through the doors. 
He headed towards the bar in the corner, spotting JJ, Will and the boys already in their seats and offered them a wave as he passed. 
Towards the bar he saw Luke and Garcia, holding hands and giggling between themselves. Nearby Rossi sipped his scotch and tilted his glass at Spencer as he passed. 
Cameron was hovering on the other side of the room, looking much like a spare part. He didn’t know anyone here and was instructed to wait patiently for his girlfriend while she fulfilled her bridesmaids duties. 
The rest of the team were due to be here but the ceremony wasn’t due to start for another half hour so he had no doubt they’d be here soon. 
He pushed the stroller up to the bar and applied the brake, ordering himself a club soda and leaning on the bar top while he waited. 
Elijah started to stir, his gurgling noises starting to sound a little strained. Spencer stood back up and peered in his stroller. 
“Hey you,” he reached towards the tiny boy and unclipped him from the seat. “It’s ok.” 
He lifted Elijah from the stroller, his little face contorted as though he may start crying at any moment. Spencer held the back of soft head and brought him to his chest, cradling him in his arms. 
“It’s ok, it’s ok.” He bounced him gently. “Don’t cry, it’s your mommy and daddy’s big day. We don’t want tears.” 
He rocked him back and forth and thanked the bar tender when he placed his club soda on the bar. Elijah continued to gurgling, but the rocking motion seemed to calm him. 
“It’s ok.” He kissed the side of Elijah’s head. 
He’d missed this. He missed when his girls were this small and they didn’t talk back to him and one cuddle from their daddy solved all their problems. 
He missed sneaking into their rooms at night just to watch them sleep when the baby monitor wasn’t enough. He missed the way they would cling to his hand so tightly, the way they’d once thought their dad was a superhero. 
He loved his girls, more than humanly possible. He loved them as babies, as toddlers and he loved them now, one as a teenager and another who thought she was a teenager. 
But as time went on Spencer felt like his girls needed him less and less with every passing day. He sometimes felt redundant as a parent, like his job was done. 
Elijah was brand new. Maeve and Bobby would have all those things he’d taken for granted with Daisy and Lily. 
Sometimes he wished he could go back in time, really savour those moments. In the blink of an eye his girls would be going off to college, having families of their own and then they really wouldn’t need him anymore. 
He held Elijah a little longer than he needed to, momentarily pretending he was Daisy or Lily and he had a chance to do it all over again. 
“You’ve got your whole life ahead of you little man. And you got so lucky. You’re mom and dad love you so much and you have the two best sisters in the whole world. And this extended family of yours…” he trailed off, glancing around the room at his family, his BAU family. “You don’t know how lucky you’ve got it kid.”
He started getting a little misty eyed as he stroked Elijah’s head, still rocking him in his arms. Elijah made a happy little cooing sound and Spencer smiled to himself. He closed his eyes and breathed in that new baby scent, imagining one of his daughter’s in his arms when they were so small and vulnerable. 
“That’s a good look on you, daddy.”  
His eyes snapped back open and he couldn’t hold back the smile on his face. He cautiously laid Elijah back down in his stroller, buckling him back in. 
“Just remembering what it was like, it's been a while.” He chuckled, reaching out his hands. “You look like a goddamn dream.” 
“You say that like you didn’t see me this morning.” You laughed, taking hold of his outstretched hands. 
“You somehow look more beautiful every single time I lay eyes on you.” He pulled you close by your hands and moved them to cup your face. 
“You’re not going to cry are you?” You teased him as he kissed you. 
“I can’t promise anything.” He laughed against your lips. 
“I may always have complicated feelings towards my ex but my feelings for you are anything but. I love you Y/N. I love you more than words can describe and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please don’t walk away. Please give me another chance.” 
Your eyes misted with tears but you were not going to let them fall. You bit the inside of your cheek in hopes of keeping them at bay. 
You straightened your back, clenched your jaw and spat a simple, “no.” 
Turning away from him towards the door, you soon felt a hand on your shoulder. 
“That’s not good enough for me.” He turned you back to face him. “I cannot let you walk away again.”
Before you knew what was happening, Spencer caged you back against the door and kissed you. And despite everything, all the pain and hurt he’d caused you, you kissed him back. 
And the rest, as they say, was history. 
You didn’t walk away, couldn’t even if you tried. You hadn’t walked away in the six months since and you knew you never would. 
Four weeks later you moved into his new home with him and the girls. 
Daisy and Lily adored you and in return you loved them just as much. They enjoyed having another woman around and oftentimes the three of you would gang up on their dad, much to Spencer’s chagrin. 
Daisy talked to you about things she wasn’t always comfortable talking to her parents about. Lily liked it when you braided her hair. They both enjoyed the shopping trips you took them on. 
Spencer kissed you once more before letting go of your face and taking hold of one of your hands again. 
“This place is fancy.” You spoke as your eyes flitted around the grand room. 
“I did try to explain to her the benefits of eloping.” Spencer shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. 
“It’s not for everyone.” You chuckled.
Spencer raised your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles, right next to your gold wedding band. 
“Do you regret it? Not having some big fancy event like this?” 
“Are you kidding me?” You pulled a face, glancing down at his matching band. “The only person I needed at our wedding was you, Doctor Reid.”
Some might say it was too soon, that the two of you had rushed into things but they would be wrong. 
When you know, you know and you both knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were meant to be together and didn’t want to waste a second not being married. Nothing had ever felt so right as standing up in that little Vegas chapel and promising each other forever. 
“I love you so much. Doctor Reid.” He squeezed your hand. 
The kiss lasted several minutes and by the time Spencer pulled back you were both panting. 
The look he was giving you was like no look anyone had ever given you before. And it told you all you needed to know. 
This man was incomparably in love with you, and would go to the ends of the earth for you. This man would do anything for you. 
He’d made some mistakes, but so had you. Life wasn’t always perfect, there would always be bumps in the road. But with any luck the hardest hurdles were now in your past. 
He loved you and you loved him and it was just as simple as that. 
“I don’t want the best days of my life to have passed me by. I want it all, Y/N. I want to get married, I want to have more kids. And I want it with you.”
“It really is a good job we don’t both work at Georgetown anymore, two Doctor Reid’s is just confusing.” You laughed.
“Well I think it could be done. There would just be the hot Doctor Reid and the other Doctor Reid.” He shrugged, his eyes sparkling playfully.
“Which one am I?” 
“You will never know, my love.” He chuckled, pulling you close again and kissing you slightly more fiercely than was appropriate for the current setting. 
Before things could get too hot and heavy, Elijah whined, tearing the two of you apart. You both moved to his stroller and looked down on him.
“Hey little man, what seems to be the problem?” You stroked his wrinkly forehead. 
He kicked his tiny legs, blowing little spit bubbles in his mouth. Spencer cooed at him while you continued stroking his head. 
Within a few seconds he calmed down again, perhaps he just wanted some attention. Baby’s and dogs weren’t all that dissimilar, Taco had a penchant for whining when he wanted attention. 
“Oh jeez, I’m sorry. I didn’t ask if you wanted a drink.” Spencer stood back up and picked up his club soda. 
“Just water, please. I’ve been feeling a little queasy again this morning.” You rubbed your stomach. 
“Hopefully that’ll pass soon.” He kissed your cheek before getting the bartender's attention again and ordering you a glass of water. 
Soon after handing it to you, Daisy and Lily in their beautiful dresses, carrying bouquets, were heading your way. 
Spencer saw the coy smile Daisy sent in the direction of her boyfriend and it made his stomach tighten. How he wished he could slow down time so his daughter never got older. 
“You need to go sit, it’s starting in a minute.” Daisy demanded. 
“Sit please.” Lily echoed. 
Spencer looked between his girls and you and little Elijah who could now barely keep his eyes open. He was flooded by nostalgia, weddings always did have that effect on him. 
The girls turned to leave, to finish their rounds but Spencer stopped them. 
“Hey, pumpkins?” His voice cracked a little as he spoke. 
“Stop it.” Daisy frowned at him, hearing the way his voice broke.
“Stop what? Spencer frowned back. 
“I can see you getting sappy. Don’t do it. Please, dad?” She begged him.
“Yeah please, dad?” Lily repeated.
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it.” He looked over at Elijah again. “I just miss when you girls were that little. When you needed me.”
You slipped your hand in his, giving it a squeeze to try and tether him to the present before he went down a rabbit hole into the past. 
Daisy and Lily looked at each other, communicating subconsciously in the weird way sisters seemed to be able to do. 
“We’ll always need you, dad.” Lily spoke as they looked back at him. 
“You will?”
“Of course, you’re our dad.” Daisy shrugged.
“We love you.” Lily insisted. 
“I love you both so much.” His voice cracked again, eyes misting with tears.
“Oh god,” Daisy groaned. “Do not cry. Stop it.” 
“Make him stop, Y/N.” Lily looked at you pleadingly. 
“I wish I could.” You chuckled, giving his hand another firm squeeze. “But you know your dad, he’s an emotional kind of guy.”
“We can’t stay little kids forever, dad.” Daisy offered him a slightly sad smile.
“I know, I know.” He nodded, using his free hand to wipe his eyes before any tears fell.
“But hey, at least you get to do it all over again.” Daisy shrugged, nodding towards your belly. 
“Hey Y/N?” Spencer spoke to you from the bed of the Caesars Palace Honeymoon suite. 
“Yeah?” You called back from the bathroom. 
“Let’s make a baby.” 
You frowned to yourself and put down your toothbrush, padding back into the bedroom.
“Excuse me?” You leant against the doorframe, your new husband lying naked on top of the covers.
“Let’s make a baby.” He repeated.
You’d come off your pill a week or so ago after you’d discussed wanting to try for a baby at some point in the future. You were still using condoms though and Spencer still never finished inside of you. 
“Right now?” You questioned.
“Why not?” He shrugged. 
“We literally just got married like five hours ago.” You laughed, stepping further into the room. 
“I don’t want to wait.” He reached for you as soon as you were close enough, pulling you down to the bed. “Let’s make a baby.” 
Your hand involuntarily went to your growing stomach, the one that you could barely fit inside this dress. You were at fourteen weeks and only just starting to show, it wouldn’t be long now before none of your clothes fit you.
“That is true.” Spencer looked at you with a smile that lit up the entire room. 
He was now for three for three. Three times in his life he had unprotected sex, finishing inside of someone, and all three times he had gotten them pregnant. He often wondered if he had some kind of super sperm. 
He placed his free hand on top of yours on your stomach, on the future addition to his pumpkin patch, to his crazy, slightly unconventional family. 
He wouldn’t change his past, wouldn’t change Daisy and Lily or the way they were brought into the world. But this new baby growing inside of you, you at his side as his wife; this was the life he chose and the life you both chose to make.
“Anyway, you seriously need to go and sit down, mom will be pissed if you miss this.” Daisy snapped him out of his revere. 
“Please don’t use that word.” Spencer rolled his eyes.
“Whatever,” Daisy shrugged. “Come on Lil, let's get the others.” 
Lily happily followed her sister while the two of them rounded up all the guests and motioned them towards their seats. It wasn’t lost on him the way his youngest lit up when Michael LaMontagne smiled at her.
He swore one day he would be at their wedding. 
Spencer glanced around and spotted Matt and Kristy hand in hand, closely followed by Emily and Tara who were chatting between themselves as they found seats near JJ and Will. He looked back at you, tears now back in his eyes.
“Don’t.” You shook your head. “I am a hormonal mess as it is. If you start crying, I will too.” 
“Sorry,” he sighed wistfully. “I’m just so damn happy.” 
“Me too, Spence.” You agreed, leaning in and kissing him. “Me too.” 
The two you hung back with Elijah now asleep in his stroller while everyone else took their seats. Your own eyes took in the room, the girls, the BAU members and everyone in between. 
This family had found you and accepted you as one of their own with open arms. The Reid family, the BAU family, without really meaning to you’d become a part of something you never knew you’d always wanted. 
It may be slightly unorthodox, but it didn’t make what you had any less special. In fact in your eyes, the oddness of this family dynamic made it even more exceptional. And you wouldn’t change a single thing. 
Spencer let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, placing a soft kiss on your head while reaching for the stroller with his free hand.
“Looks like it’s just me and you, angel.” He held you close, he always held you so close. 
You glanced at Elijah before looking back around at all the faces in the room.
Daisy and Lily were waiting by the doors with their baskets of confetti, awaiting their cue to take to the aisle. Bobby stood proudly at the end, his best man at his side as they waited for the music to begin.
You looked over at JJ and Will, at Penelope and Luke; Matt and Kristy. You surveyed Tara, Emily and Rossi before you looked back to your husband. 
“Yeah,” you smiled as you leaned closer to him, closing your eyes and breathing him in as though it was the very first time. “Just me and you and everyone we know.” 
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@foxy-eva @kbakery @chrissyflo3 @simxican @aysixdy @givemeth @loonalockley @shamelessfangirl-3 @derekm24 @pinkiceee-prose @werewolfbansheelove @mindbelova @weridothatwrites
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wrathkitty · 5 months ago
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Short Debts Make Long Friends - Chapter 19.3 snippet!
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“I’m going to take care of you,” he breathes, moving overtop of you as you lay back. “You’re going to let me. Say it.”
You don’t seem to quite know how to respond – not much of a surprise, he’s never behaved in this manner before, but you reach for him without hesitation when he lowers himself between your thighs.
“Say it, cyare,” he urges, sliding an arm under your hips. 
You manage a faltered, “I’m going to let you –”
He doesn’t wait for you to finish, roughly pulling you forward to slot your pelvis against his. 
“It’s just you and me right now,” he continues, voice straining as he rewards you with a slow thrust. He dips his head, grazing his nose from the hollow of your throat, up to your neck and along your jawline, and murmurs into your ear. “Don’t think about anything else.”
“I won’t,” you promise, and gasp when he drives against you again, harder. 
“Nothing else,” he repeats. “Just this room, just this bed — just us.” 
“Just us,” you echo, panting now.
“Good girl,” he breathes approvingly. 
Short Debts Make Long Friends - An overeducated, underpaid millennial finally gets to go on her first adventure.
LoOk, it iS an pOem !
"I hate the plot gremlins oh yes I do
this is the end of the haiku"
(I did a trial of a new antidepressant right after I updated SD last month. Pros: Titrating up to the full dose was akin to tripping balls resulted in some very productive text conversations between myself and colleagues.
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Cons: Meds zapped the creative part of my brain. It's not an unknown side effect of psychotropic medication, I was able to switch to something different and I think it's a better fit, but OMG. Please send good vibes and remind me why I need to finish this story. I deal with writer's block constantly, but this is a different beast completely and it's freaking me out.
@last-of-cheese
@ababysupernova
@onlydrawnbad
@myswficlist
@mariwinns16
@mandindjarin
@coffeebeforewater
@terecord
@leithatnight
@lokiofstoriesalwaysthemselves
@djarins-cyare
@shsoba05
@sleepingghoule444
@sjdraws-00
@dontletyourchildrenwatchthis
@moondirti
@teehee-47
@jbarness
@cecilyjmorgenstern
@reileth
@mareebird
@essence-stealer
@itchyfly
@stagerightlauren
@jackieblogsstuff
@camishadjarin
@ellenmunn
@xoxo-lyss
@princessofclovers
@ezrasleftarm
@onlydrawnbadreads
@brighterthanlonelywords
@caffiend-queen
@dindenimchicken
@harriedandharassed
@everythingiwanttoread
@nightlore106
@senassn
@greensabereyesforcevictim
@chickenshit03
@anniet852
@dinnerisserveddjarin
@sixhours
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bad268 · 8 months ago
Note
Could you do another pezzy fic? Maybe even the rest of the boys too (puffer, droid, Grizzy) something like a faceless streamer getting like made fun of and the boys help them?
Agoraphobic (Pezzy X Faceless! Reader)
Fandom: RPF/Miscellaneous
Requested: Clearly (You caught me in a Pezzy mood, so I tried it lmk if it's shit)
Warnings: Online hate, agoraphobia
POV: First Person POV
W.C. 1291
Summary: When chat takes hate too far, the reader quits only to return for more hate (and loosely based on Agoraphobic by Corpse Husband).
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
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~~(^Pinterest)
My whole career started by accident. The pandemic shut down everything, including where I worked, and I got laid off. Streaming became a sense of normalcy in the craziness that was the world. Games were what I did best given that I was a game designer and tester. 
It started one night when my boyfriend, Pezzy, talked about it. He said his friends were thinking about it, so the next day, I logged onto Twitch.tv and streamed my favorite game for the moment, Among Us. It was a low-IQ game, and the fun graphics were interesting to look at. I joined a random lobby, and the rest was history.
I blew up from my imposter plays and impeccable detective skills. My viewers went from 10 to 100 to 1,000 and before I knew it, I was at 250,000 viewers. Through this time, I never care about a camera. Mainly because I knew they would tear me apart, and I would not subject myself to that torture. However, recently, it seemed that people did not even need to see my face to trash me.
“If you guys can’t behave, I’m going to either get more mods or just quit,” I said one day on stream when it seemed like the hate was never-ending. Every other message I saw was a comment about how I am probably ugly, I can’t pull anyone, or just flat-out calling me degrading names.
It never stopped.
I put up with it for nearly four years before calling it quits. Despite the support from Pezzy, telling me not to listen to anyone else, it was hard to be berated every second of every stream especially when it seemed like everyone used the highlighted texts or text-to-speech to shout at me. 
It really took a toll on my mental health. I became so self-conscious, and the fact that I had severe social anxiety did not help my case. I retreated into myself as I got bigger, and the bigger I got, the more paranoid I got. It got so bad to the point where I retreated into my house, and I could barely function without antidepressants.
One day, I was feeling spontaneous. I wanted to stream. I wanted to game. I wanted to interact with people. I asked Pezzy if I could join him for a Mario Kart stream, but play off-camera in the same room. 
The stream started off fun. I won a few, lost a few, and had some fun battles in the game against Pezzy’s friends. Then, it turned south.
Ex-fans and haters filled Pezzy’s chat and his friends’ streams. Their mods could not keep up either. It was becoming the only thing we could see, and it was getting in the way of their normal conversations with their chats. 
“Mods, do we need some backup? Where did these people even come from?” Puffer said as he looked to his moderators for help, but noticed they were doing as much as they could. “There’s so many of them!”
“It’s like they spawned out of nowhere,” Grizzy laughed before getting serious as well, “but for real guys, knock it off. They’re not doing anything wrong.”
“Yeah, if it doesn’t stop, I’ll end stream right now,” Pezzy gave an ultimatum as he looked over at me to see how I was reacting. I was pretty numb, but my mood was visibly ruined. “You know what, guys. I’m gonna end the stream anyway. I don’t know when I’ll stream next, so look at my Twitter. Bye, guys.” 
The other guys did not need to be told twice as they followed suit and ended their stream as well. They each sent reassuring messages to me as I left the room once the camera was off. 
I walked outside to sit on the patio. Since we just moved to the new house, we had not had the chance to get patio furniture yet, so I took a seat on the concrete. I was still under the cover, but I sat right on the edge. It was pouring rain, something that rarely ever happened, but it was my favorite weather. Rain was always so calming for me, and it made me feel at peace despite the thunder I read online. 
After a while, Pezzy joined me. He sat beside me with a blanket that he put over my shoulders and pulled me into his side. The serenity of the rain combined with the comfort from Pezzy helped calm my racing heart.
“I love when it rains” I broke the silence, looking out into the yard as I refused to look toward Pezzy. I let it hang in the air for a beat before I sighed, “I can’t do shit right. I can’t learn my lesson. They don’t want me online, but they give me shit for not streaming. I can’t even play with your friends without them finding me.”
“It’s not your fault they’re assholes,” Pezzy consoled as he rubbed his hand up and down my arm. “It’s never been your fault.”
“It’s my fault I subjected myself to it in the first place,” I pointed out. “If I had never streamed in the first place, I never would have been in this situation. These people are taking the piss out of gaming, and I’m sick of it! I can’t go outside without thinking someone will find me! I am so paranoid about my privacy. It’s like I’m on house arrest.”
“You know the odds of someone recognizing you are slim to none,” Pezzy tried to intervene as I spiraled.
“No, Pezzy, you don’t understand how I think,” I pressed, turning to look at him as I grabbed his hands. “Pezzy, they’re always asking questions about my face, and I can’t stand it. They will stop at nothing to get what they want. I lived in three apartments before I agreed to move in because somehow, someway, someone found out where I lived, or at least they found my P.O. box and said they knew my address. I live in fear every day that someone is going to find me.” I stopped for a second to let Pezzy absorb what I was saying. I could see the recognition in his eyes. I continued, “Pezzy, it has been 1000 days since I had the first threat. I have not been able to function for 1000 days. I love you, Pezzy, but you will never understand how I think. It’s just too complicated.”
“Listen, I may not understand it completely, but I’d like to. I love you too, and I never understand you fully, but I will always be here to support you,” He leaned in to kiss my forehead before leaning his forehead to mine. “I don’t want you to fight your battles alone. I’m here for you. I do not care how many people I gotta fight to tell you otherwise. I’ll fight from the trenches if I have to if it means I get to help you through anything causing you pain.”
“You don’t mean that,” I dismissed, looking away as I felt tears fill my eyes. “You really don’t, Pezzy. As much as I know you care, there is no way you’d be willing to help me in that way.”
“I do! I’d do anything for you,” Pezzy consoled as he put a hand on my chin to turn my face to look at him again. “I’m with you till the end of the line, remember? We’ve known each other our whole lives, and I’m not leaving your side. I don’t care how dark or difficult it may seem. You are my person till the end of the line, and I’m here for the long ride.”
~~~~~
© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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a-livingcorpse · 2 months ago
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A/N- I'm running off an hour of sleep, half a pot of coffee, antidepressants, and spite as I write this.
Fem! Y/N x older boyfriend! John Price
NSFW (18+ plz)
"He cheated...again...knocked her up... moved out...now I'm living paycheck to paycheck." You say with sniffles, unintentionally dumping on him a bit.
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You don't remember when you started living with him, you just did. You dated his son for a while, but he consistently cheated on you, and eventually moved out of your shared apartment, meaning you pay all bills plus rent, which now leaves you living paycheck to paycheck from the shitty factory job you have that just happens to make you the most money in the area you live in, but somehow none of this was relayed to his father, John Price.
"Love, what's wrong? What has that Muppet done now?" He asks softly as he stands in your doorway, gently wiping tears from your cheeks. It shattered his heart to see the trear stains and runny mascara. He had shown up to what was supposed to be a dinner you planned months ago... before you found out Leon knocked up some side chick.
"That little fuck, I swear... I'll skin him alive...leaving you all alone and broke like this..." He mumbles to himself as he comes into the apartment, closing the door behind himself. He embraces you, pulling you into his chest, upset and angry, not only on your behalf, but at the fact his own son would have the gall to do something like that so someone as sweet and loving as you.
"Mr. Price-" you try to protest, only to be cut off by him, now in a firm tone with no room for argument "Y/N, you're going to live with me for now. I'm not going to allow you to live alone and struggle to survive just because of that little Muppet. You deserve to live with someone and be cared for." His tone gentle at the end. He lets out a soft sigh "and please, call me John."
After a moment of scilence he pulls back slightly, having you look up at him. "I'm not letting you stay here by yourself, and I'm not going to sit back while you struggle to make ends meet. That's not happening. Not on my watch."
There's a small pause. "Talk about little... ...he was never good in bed, and all he cared about was himself, I always had to finish myself and fake it for him... it's a wonder how he got one of his mistresses pregnant." You admit with a sniffle, tears flowing here and there as you blink.
John’s jaw ticked with irritation as he listened to you, clearly wanting to punch the lights out of Leon. He was silent for a few moments, his expression full of anger, before he spoke again.
He pushes some hair out of your face. “He’s an utter fool. He didn’t appreciate you, didn’t treat you right. Now he’s gone and knocked up some slag and left you alone. It’s clear you’re far too good for a bastard like him.” He says in a comforting way before giving you a forehead kiss
And from there, things just snowballed. One thing let to another and you ended up under him for a good while, showing you how a real man loves his woman. You were now his woman, and now you get to share a bed with a man who loves you for you, and God, he loves you. Every. Single. Inch. Spending time, making sure he worship you like the goddess you are. He absolutely loves watching you squirm under him as he touches, praises, and talks you through everything he's doing as he takes it nice and slow.
After that night, you gradually moved in with him, leaving some clothes at his house here and there, some of your older things still there from when you were with his son, other things just gradually coming in.
You don't remember when you started living with him, you just do.
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aryaqua-reh2o · 5 months ago
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The Full Moon ending is perfect!
A day in Stolas and Blitzø’s lives that summarises what’s happened so far. 
Blitzø and Stolas are perfectly disastrous in their way and of course, they were going to collide at some point. After brewing for one and a half seasons, the miscommunication between these adorable idiots peaked. Who’s fault is that? Both! And in equal part! I can’t stand reading how many people blamed Blitzø alone. The truth is, they both acted incredibly wrong and also incredibly well for who they are. 
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Let’s start with Stolas: he ran out of his happy pills on the most important day of his life (probably). Now, I can’t talk from experience because I never used antidepressants (at least I assume they are antidepressants), but I doubt that skipping one dose turns you into an emotional wreck. But the thing is, Stolas is autistic and I can relate to this and the way he behaved. The pills were something he could rely on to stay afloat probably during his whole sad life, so running out of it first thing in the morning in the middle of an emotional Dinsey princess moment was truly bad timing. Stolas found himself stripped of this little safety blanket. During his song, he gets happy, dramatic, desperate and hopeful. He most likely spent the day in a mood swing, and let’s remember that he wakes up at 7 AM and meets Blitzø at 11:56 PM, plenty of time to panic [Side note, the breakup happens 4 minutes later so at midnight on the dot, I love these little details]. Stolas knows how he feels about Blitzø, he has known for some time, and he’s ready to tell him. If I know a little bit about how a brain on the spectrum works, he most likely had been rehearsing any possible scenarios in his head for hours (or days, or months) and that’s why when Blitzø arrives, Stolas doesn’t say anything to interrupt the other displaying of sex toys, until he decides it’s time to stop Blitzø (that it’s clearly freaking out already at that point) and opens the conversation in the worst possible way ever: “I need it [the Grimoire] back. Permanently”. It seems unnecessarily cruel to just take the book from Blitzø, letting him tear up and beg. But then Stolas pulls out the box with the crystal and we have the Stolitz music playing and… but why make Blitzø cry and not just give him the crystal straight away? Because Stolas was too stuck in his mind already. He played out this scene so many times in his head, that he couldn’t act any different without losing his cool. Don’t get this wrong: from here on I absolutely LOVE how Stolas handled the situation, how he spoke, what he did and said, from kneeling in front of Blitzø, gently holding his hand to calm him down when he was about to panic, and then he gave him the crystal while confessing his feelings for him. Stolas at this point had been in touch and honest with his feelings for months (at least since Ozzie’s from what we can see on screen), but the main problem is that Stolas has no idea of what is going on with Blitzø, so when obviously Blitzø feels cornered and doesn’t want to face his feelings so abruptly and hides behind sex and roleplaying, Stolas loses his control over the situation and closes up for good. Anything that happens between “Do you…Do you have my book Blitzø?” and “That’s enough to know what this is” is a monologue. When Blitzø doesn’t follow the idea Stolas has in his mind, Stolas just walks away. 
And this is VALID because Stolas has never been in a real relationship, he has no friends or family aside from Via, and he doesn’t know how to deal with people with complex emotions like Blitzø. It is quite common for people on the spectrum to assume that everyone else is alike, thinks alike, and responds similarly to certain patterns, so when Stolas doesn’t get the response he was expecting, he immediately reads it as rejection. He turns away from Blitzø and leaves without giving the other any chance other than yelling in anger and despair. 
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On Blitzø's side things are more linear. He was and still is in constant… ignorance. Meaning he actively ignores his and Stolas’ feelings. I don’t think he is in denial, because he knows fully well he has feelings for Stolas at least since S1E6 Truth Seekers, he knows he fears intimacy and also craves it. And he most likely knows, at least in part, that Stolas has feelings for him as shown during the exchange with Fizz in Oops (that part was denial, yes). Blitzø knows this night is important and different. They haven’t seen each other for months. He was the one who decided to skip a few rounds when Stolas gave him the opportunity, and if we go with the text exchange in Western Energy, it’s safe to assume they haven’t seen each other since Seeing Stars and probably haven’t slept together since before Ozzie’s. Blitzø’s strategy to deal with his fears and feelings is to let things linger doing nothing in the hope they settle back to where they were when the deal was still new and comfortable. Because Blitzø doesn’t want to admit he has feelings for Stolas, but most of all he doesn’t want to accept that Stolas has feelings for him, because who can love him? Certainly not a prince of all people. Blitzø goes shopping to impress Stolas because he wants to keep staying in that deal, no commitment, no need to reveal his feelings, he could keep going forever, transactional sex is convenient and non-commmittal. (Inadvertently showing, while doing sex shopping, how much he cares for Stolas and how deeply he knows him and what he likes, he wants to make Stolas happy). He wants to go back to sex and show Stolas a “good time” so he doesn’t have to think about how he felt when he realised Stolas could get hurt. He doesn’t want to think about anything, but then, when Stolas takes control of the narrative, Blitzø can only be there and follow it until it gets too overwhelming. He tries so desperately to stick to the habits, to the point he has this massive slip when he tries to give back the crystal to Stolas and says he can always do better. He doesn’t want a way out. He doesn’t want to choose. He loves being in chains because it’s easy. He wants things to stay the way they are, for Stolas to use him as a sex toy, and to be used by him because admitting that he has feelings and that he sees that Stolas has feelings for him is too much. But Stolas clearly states how he feels and what he wants. Blitzø understands perfectly, but he can’t accept it, so he tries in a desperate attempt to get back to where they were, to pretend one more time. Blitzø runs away from the feelings Stolas is showing him in a way that triggers Stolas in the worst possible way. Stolas runs away from Blitzø when he can’t deal with his heartbreak anymore, triggering Blitzø’s fear that translates into an angry outburst. Stolas doesn’t stop for a second and doesn’t listen to Blitzø who is yelling at him to, basically, stop and listen to him. Blitzø says hurtful things to Stolas because he is desperate and he feels rejected and abandoned by him. After avoiding any type of confrontation for months, Blitzø finally gives in, but he’s hurt, angry and terrified so he does the only thing he’s comfortable with: he yells. He doesn’t know of Stolas’ past of being abused by his wife. Stolas just wants out, out of the feeling of being rejected (even if he obviously jumped to the wrong conclusions too fast) and away from yet another person screaming at him. Blitzø only manages to stop Stolas by yelling at him hurtful things he doesn’t fully believe. Unfortunately, Stolas listens to that. And for the first time in his life, he cries in front of someone. Blitzø finally realises how much his words hurt Stolas, but it’s too late to apologise and he finds himself teleported outside mid-apology.
Honestly, I don’t think they could have screwed up any worse than that even if they tried. But this needed to happen and I’m glad it did. Blitzø needed to see Stolas heartbroken to understand Stolas was in love with him. Stolas did the best he could for who he is, he made the first move, and now the ball is in Blitzø’s court. 
I owe Blitz an apology. When speculating on The Full Moon I assumed it was going to end badly and I blamed Blitzø for it. Now that the episode is out I can see that mostly it’s Stolas’ fault. Yes, I said it, it’s predominantly Stolas’ fault if The Full Moon ended in tragedy, but this is important: Blitzø knows Stolas treated him wrong (not only in the last episode, many many times before that) but now he also knows that Stolas can get hurt physically and emotionally, and yes, he proved himself to be a pompous rich asshole that happens to also be deeply in love with him. Is then Stolas worth fighting for? I think we all know the answer. What I hope to see in Apology Tour is the both of them apologizing to each other AND to themselves. Neither Stolas nor Blitzø know what love is. They are trying and failing but in the end, they are both desperate for one another and if Stolas can get his head out of his ass and Blitzø finally drops the act for a minute, they could just… talk and start to figure things out. And maybe in Apology Tour we will know more about what happened with Verosika and why that relationship went South so badly, I bet it’s going to play a huge part in Blitzø’s future development.
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krazyyyyyy · 6 months ago
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Hey hey! I love your Geo (and Hyugo) work so much I wanted to make a request! If this is too much, or potentially graphic, just ignore this. :] Geo x reader who's suicidal/depressed, but hides it well. (totally not mirroring here nooo) Or Hyugo with the same prompt. Or both, whatever you want. Thank you in advance either way, and I hope you have an excellent week!
Always by your side ( Hyugo/ Depressed Reader)
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TW: Suicidal thoughts, Mentions of Drug usage
Words: 1284
Notes: I'm so sorry if you're going through some difficult times at the moment. I hope this short little fic gives you a bit of comfort.
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 When will it go away? Does it ever go away? Are you stuck with this? The heavy weight of misery tugs on your heart, causing a lingering ache in your chest that shows no signs of fading. You struggled to catch your breath, as your anxieties got the better of you, making you feel small and vulnerable.
You just wanted it all to end, the pain, the misery….everything. Every day, you woke up, things only got worse; food started to lose its taste, colors lost the vibrancy that used to bewitch you, and your hobbies seemed pointless and useless. At night, you would lie awake unable to sleep with the same question repeating in your head: ‘Is life worth living?’
You lean against your hands, which were clamped on your bathroom sink's counter. You raise your head to look at yourself in the mirror; you looked a mess–a broken mess, with tears streaming down your cheeks and your hair out of place. What were you going to do with yourself?
A sudden tapping from outside the bathroom door startles you.“Y/N? You okay in there?” Hyugo’s muffled voice speaks from the other side of the door
You’re quick to wipe away the tears with the sleeves of your hoodie, composing yourself to the best of your abilities before speaking. How long have you been in here?
“Y-yeah, I’ll be out in a sec!” You prayed that he didn’t hear the strain in your voice, the last thing you wanted to do was worry him.
“Are you sure?” He persisted
“… Yeah, just need a minute.” You lay your head in your hands, as an instant migraine overwhelms you.
You hear him sigh, “Okay… Let me know if you need anything.” Faint footsteps let you know that he had walked away from the door, more than likely heading to the living room to watch another Sherlock Homes movie.
… Your pills… you have to go take your pills… they might be able to clear your head from all these dark thoughts. You hated having to rely on them every time you felt like this… but what other choice did you have?
You hated yourself even more, given the fact you took the pills behind Hyugo’s back. He remained unaware of your current mental state, as you did well to push all your feelings deep down inside, and then wear a smile to cover it all up. You hoped that your condition would get better with time and would disappear one day. But, instead, it got much worse with each passing day. Yet, you still didn’t have the heart to tell him about it; you knew he’d do anything to help you get better, but you couldn’t let him drop everything to help you…you didn’t deserve that from him.
After adjusting yourself, you give one last look in the mirror, before rushing out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. You kept the antidepressants hidden underneath a stack of clothes in your dresser, somewhere you thought Hyugo would never find them.
You’re quick to open and search the contents of the drawer for the pills, but to your horror, they are nowhere to be found. In an act of sheer desperation, you search through every single drawer in hopes that you have just misplaced them by mistake. Alas, the medication is still missing, meaning you would just have to go on without them until you got a new bottle. 
Your body shook anxiously, feeling the intense waves of depression hit you like a steel drum. There had to be something you could do to get rid of the emptiness that started to overwhelm you… Maybe watching that movie with Hyugo would take your mind off things…hopefully.
Closing all the drawers of your dresser, you stand up and start making your way toward the living room, which is right down the hall from your bedroom. 
After walking the short distance, you make it, but are immediately confused to find Hyugo standing in the middle of the living room with his back turned to you. He seemed to be intently looking at something he held in hand.
“Hyugo?” You called out to him, as you stepped closer to where he was standing. He remained unmoving where he stood, making you think he didn’t hear you at first. But after a brief moment, he finally turned his body to face you. He looked at you with worry and hurt in his eyes, nearly on the verge of tears. It broke your heart to see him look at you this way, and just when you were about to ask him what was wrong; your gaze shifted to what he held in his hand, and you instantly felt your heart drop.
In his hand, were the pills you had desperately tried to keep hidden from him for the longest time. Your secret was out, and now you had to deal with the backlash that came with it; this wasn’t something Hyugo wouldn’t let go so easily.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He gestures toward the pill bottle in his hand, his voice filled with deep hurt. After being together for a few months, he believed you two could tell each other anything…or at least he thought so. While you were in the bathroom, Hyugo, who could tell you were unwell, had opted to help you with some unfinished chores around your apartment. While putting away some of your folded clothes, he discovered the pills, and upon finding them, he felt his heart shatter. His mind was swarmed with questions, ‘Did you not trust him?’ ‘Was he the reason for your unhappiness?’
You choked back on a sob, “… I-I’m so sorry… I couldn’t… You shouldn’t have to deal with this.” Why should someone as bright and jovial as Hyugo have to deal with your darker, and painful inner struggles? This was supposed to be your fight…not his. 
Hyugo’s expression softens at your words. The hurt he had felt was eclipsed by the concern he had for you and your well-being. With the pill bottle falling to the floor, he reached out toward you, gently cupping your face in his hands, “Hey,” he spoke softly, with a warm smile on his face, “You don’t take to go through this alone, Whatever it is you're going through, I'm going to help through it. I’m here for you, always.”
Tears well up in your eyes as you meet his gaze, feeling the comfort and safety that his eyes often reflect. It hadn’t left completely, but the burden you felt had gotten just a bit lighter. With the unwavering support you received from your boyfriend, there was finally a glimpse of hope for the future.
“… I just…didn’t want to worry you,” you admit, tears streaming down your face. “I thought… I thought I could handle it on my own…”
Hyugo leaned down to press a soft kiss where a stray tear lingered on your cheek. “You don’t have to do anything by yourself, not when I’m here.” He said, his voice firm yet still cordial. He didn’t hesitate to pull you into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck.“I love you, but please don’t hide things like this from me anymore.”
Wrapping your arms around him, you rest your chin on his shoulder, relishing his warmth. “I won’t… I promise,”. From your response, you can feel Hyugo smile into the base of your neck.
You may have a long journey ahead you toward getting better, but with Hyugo at your side, it felt as though you could accomplish anything.
And you couldn’t be any more grateful.
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galaxygirl-katie27 · 22 days ago
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Vector Redesign
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Notes under the cut!
-Okay so first of all, I had to finally figure out his nationality, so that it would make sense with the story. Which led me to my headcanon of Vector being Turkish-Persian mixed, with his father being Turkish and his mother being Persian. But ultimately he would be the prince, later king, of Persia. I‘d like to make a full post about this topic specifically later, but in short: His father was the second Turkish prince, so in order to be king himself, he married into the persian royal family, who had no male heir, so he could have his own kingdom. So that later, Vector could jut walk through Türkiye with his army to attack Nasch in Greece, because of his blood-relation to their royal family without any problems.
-To the design. I gave him a ponytail, just to try it out, but I just liked it so much, that I had to stick with it.
-He has big eye bags from Insomnia, because of many nightmares almost every night. He has major PTSD from his past, that sill haunts him.
-He has a tooth gap (where he actually lost a tooth) and many scars and bandaids, because this boy is just always hurt (most of it because of the Ray-Way). I once read a headcanon, that all of Ray`s clumsiness wasn’t even acted, Vector is just like that. He still bumps into all kinds of furniture post-series.
-Also he ruined all his pants at one point because of his clumsiness and because the others (Nasch) don’t want to buy him new ones, he just patched them up himself, and yes he did poke himself with the needle multiple times.
-FRECKLES. No elaboration needed.
-Big father issues. Also no elaboration needed.
-This boy never ties his shoes, which also doesn’t help his clumsiness. Also he wears mismatched shoes, but they match enough for him and he just doesn’t think anyone notices. Everyone notices.
-He is one of the people with the most Trauma. If you ask him how he‘s doing he‘d say: „I take antidepressants.“ And he does! He got them perscribed, after an… incident. I wont go into detail, but I think you can guess what happened. And while most of the barians still don’t exactly like him, they don’t want him to die. He also refuses to go to proper therapy. Yuma is his therapy.
-He also has ADHD, which I think he always had, even in his past life. He got it diagnosed post series, when Yuma talked to him about his ADHD (another headcanon of mine) and Vector just heavily related to many things Yuma said and so he proposed that maybe he should get a diagnose. Which tuned out positive.
-Also he‘s a cat owner. I read so many fics, where he just adopts a cat. It’s mostly to spite Rio, when he came across a little kitten box on the side of the road one day. But he got so attached to it, it‘s his family now. It’s a little white female kitten, who is also deaf and her name is Pestilence, Pesty for short. He is also so good at hiding her. The barians only found out about her like 6 months after Vector got her. There was a massive discussion, but in the end Vector got to keep her. She is now his emotional support cat.
-He also reads a bit, but it only consists of the most cliche, sappy, stereotypical romance stories you can find, to make fun of them.
-His past life redesign is like the biggest redesign up until now, since I researched ancient Persian an Turkish royal robes, because even when he‘s the prince/king of Persia, I think his father would still bring some of his Turkish background into the family.
-And since I made him older again (and tanner, because he was more in the sun in Persia than in Japan) I gave him a little goatee
-Also his robes are red to resemble his father, and how he is slowly turning into him (plus the goatee), but he still has blue in his clothes to resemble and respect his mother. I refuse to believe that he stopped loving her after her death. I think he always continued to love her deep inside and actually still misses her post series. He just doesn’t show it.
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explosionkatsu · 2 years ago
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Mistake
Bakugou x Reader
I couldn't be happier after seeing the 400+ followers. I didn't expect this to happen honestly. I would like to thank you all for your appreciation and for showing your support on my work. In return, I made this all for you! ❤️
You thought you got over it after the therapy sessions you’ve been through. You tried to get a new hobby knowing that you're training to be a hero. You tried to be healthy as much. You exercise every morning, bond with your friends by the afternoon, and even volunteer to make dinner just to prevent yourself from being lonely.
Maybe you got over it because when Katsuki asked you out on a date, you were in heaven. You felt happy, content, and loved.
But why does it come back out of nowhere? No. It's not out of nowhere. It came back because you had your first big fight with your lover.
You remembered standing up to him about your 1st Anniversary as lovers but he was too immersed in training with the others so he rebutted that he didn't. But you caught a glimpse of how he darts his eyes away from you and it shatters your heart. What did you do? You unhurriedly turn your back on him knowing he won't admit it.
Tears are flooding your eyes and gradually running down your cheeks and way to your chin as you stride up the stairs towards your dormitory. You didn't even glance behind you scared to see his reaction.
It’s been hours since you confronted Katsuki about it. Sleep couldn't just visit you tonight because of the ache. Overthinking is flooding your mind once again.
What if he doesn’t care anymore? What if he thinks you're a burden to him? What if he left you? What if he doesn't love you anymore? So many what-ifs and it's just summing up the ache you are currently experiencing.
It's been days since you both talked. But none of you dare to step in and apologize. Well, not exactly.
Katsuki knew his mistake. He was even pissed at himself for denying it, heck, for failing to remember it! He thought you’ll get over it, knock on his door. That was his plan. Wait for you to come so he can apologize. But you didn't. He even starts noticing how you skipped your meals. When in class, you weren't listening like you usually do and you’re not lingering in the hallway for him by the end of the class.
But Katsuki had enough. Enough is enough.
Katsuki waited for everyone to go to their own room. Once again, you skipped your meal. Although, he saw you earlier and took a glass of water before disappearing again. At least you're keeping yourself hydrated.
So when the common room was finally empty, Katsuki went to the kitchen and prepare your meal. He was desperate to fix his mistakes. If he has to apologize to you every single day, he will.
After he finished cooking, he headed to your room holding up a tray with your food on it. Carefully balancing the tray on his other hand, Katsuki gently knocked on your door. He couldn't hear you getting up from your bed or even walking. But the jiggle of the doorknob was enough to let him know you're still awake.
Your appearance breaks his heart. He can see your under-eye reddish and darkened. It appears like you just finished crying because of how puffy your eyes were. Your hair was everywhere.
He caused this. He is to blame for this.
Katsuki stood there staring at you. He felt his lips dry up. But no matter what you look like, you will always be the most beautiful lady he had ever laid his eyes on.
“May I come in?” His voice came out soft but in a whisper.
You thought for a moment before tugging your door wide enough for Katsuki to come in.
As soon as he did, Katsuki looked around. You were never messy. He can see the crumpled tissues beside your bed. After scanning your room, he placed the tray on your desk where he saw the now-empty glass with a couple of medicines beside it. He got confused so he brought it close to his face to read the writing.
Antidepressant
“Why are you drinking these?” Katsuki curiously looked at you.
You were at the doorway after closing the door behind you, leaning against the wall when he came in. You even watched him examine your room.
“It's nothing.” You said, almost whispering it.
“I said. Why are you drinking this?” Katsuki repeated as gently as he could before slowly stepping closer to you.
Too tired to argue with him, you mentioned how you suffer severe depression before you met him. How you went through with it, all the therapy, and medicines you had to take.
Katsuki listens to you intently. He sees the sadness in your eyes as you mention how you suffer from the past. So while you were still talking, he dropped the medicine and embrace you tightly.
Of course, it caught you by surprise. But in the end, you embrace him back with tears in your eyes.
“I don’t want to feel this ache anymore. I’m tired of it, Katsuki.” You hiccupped.
“I know, baby. I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m really sorry. I should've known. I shouldn't have forgotten our anniversary. I should've apologized to you sooner.” Katsuki said. He slowly pulls himself back and cuffed your tear-soaked cheek to his palm.
Seeing you cry because of him breaks him. So tonight, he decided to stay in your room and comfort you as much as you want.
“I love you, Y/n.” He said before slowly pulling you in a passionate kiss.
Maybe it's how he made you feel you're loved because as soon as he placed his lips against yours softly, you shut your eyes closed letting a tear roll down and wrapping your arms around his neck bringing him closer to you as much as possible.
Both your lips moved in sync with so much passion.
Katsuki then moved his palm from your cheek, down to your jaw, caressing it with his thumb while his arms snaked around your waist.
Finally, you pulled away eyes slowly opening. You saw his eyes staring down at you lovingly.
“This is the last time I’ll make you feel this way, baby,” Katsuki said placing a kiss on your forehead. “I promise.”
You only nod in response.
“Come. You should eat. I’ve never seen you eat anything.”
After feeding you the now cold meal, you both sat on your bed, a blanket coating half of your body.
You stayed in his arms which Katsuki doesn't mind. All he has in his mind now is to make up for his mistake and never hurt you.
Ever.
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sggk · 1 month ago
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Re: anti-depressants - I was in a situation where I knew I needed help and my options were either therapy alone or therapy in addition to anti-depressants. I didn't want the meds for the reasons you've listed and so I opted not take them and soldier on with therapy, and when that didn't work I dragged myself forward with no support. And honestly? I regret not taking the meds.
The therapy was useless because I wasn't stable enough to get anything out of it and whilst my situation was shit and inescapable at the time, I was incapable of doing anything that might have improved it or made it bearable because of my depression. I used to heavily day drink whilst job searching to Deal With Everything and now I look back and think. Surely the tablets were better than that. Even if I still had to take them now, surely it's better than how all of that made me feel.
But I did make it through to the other side in the end! I'm here and I did it all by myself, no support, no medication, i was just too damn stubborn to give up! But in hindsight I feel like I crawled up the face of a mountain with a broken leg when I could have used crutches and a path instead.
Did I gain anything by taking the long road? I don't know. What I do know is that I prolonged a painful situation and probably caused more harm to myself doing it that way. So. Same result, sure, but it was a fucking miserable journey.
Anyway, I understand that it's a difficult decision to make. I can't tell you if you should or shouldn't take them, but I really hope you're in a better place soon whichever path you choose. You have such a big sunny personality and whilst we've never spoken, I miss you on my dash. Take care. We're all rooting for you!
Hey! I’ve had this message in my inbox for the past year and a bit , honestly not even meaning to keep it unanswered intentionally but just because i remember i would read it over and think so much about it after i got it . Today is the first day since the whole situation began that i’m officially off my meds and i really hope you see it because i want to say thank you! I remember how agonizing and impossible the decision felt for every reason and this message was actually what made me decide to accept my doctor putting me on the antidepressants! I don’t know if you knew but somehow this was the exact argument i needed to hear and i’m really grateful and touched that you reached out at the time and extended this hand to me. Many people i’m sure wanted to give me a shake and were frustrated by my opposition to taking medication to help and were very relieved when i acquiesced so know you have a silent fan club out there somewhere! I’m so happy that you made it and so happy that i made it and you made a really big impact on me with this message, so thank you! ☀️💛🫶
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theprodigxl-daughter · 2 months ago
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A goodbye (but not a sad one!!!!)
I've been on antidepressants for almost a year now. This is the first year of my life in many, many years where I've been, genuinely, enjoying life. And, even in the moments where things are Not Great, I still feel great because I'm not constantly trying to off myself.
And it's not just the meds. I've been more in contact with my friends, I'm going out, meeting people. I'm getting the opportunity to be a young woman in my early twenties, to drink and wake up in the morning kind of regretting staying out late, but still having so. much. fun.
I still go to church, sometimes. Because it doesn't bother me anymore, because I can sit there, finally comfortable in my own skin, knowing that I know who I am and what I believe and that's enough.
And all of that has got me thinking: this is truly the only life that I have. There's no way of knowing what comes after this.
And I finally feel safe enough to feel really fucking great to affirm that there is no way that I'm going to spend the only life that I know I have denying myself of all the joys that exist in being a human being. I don't want to spend my days thinking of all the ways I was made wrong. Of all my shortcomings. Days of Making myself little, so He can be Great.
Which is why I think I'm ready to let go of this blog.
I created this space when I was feeling so much rage, so much sadness, and I needed community. And I got that, I truly did! I never really interacted much, but it was so great to know that I wasn't alone in my feelings.
This space means so much to me, because not only it helped me heal, but it's also proof that, yeah, I didn't think I would, but I survived.
I've been thinking of this for a while, and this post was supposed to be just this: a rant. But I feel like, in order to continue, I need to put some things behind, which includes my lovely blog.
I don't know if anyone cares, but I felt like I needed to say goodbye. I've been here for a while, and I've seen people come, and go, and I know I remember people and still check their blogs even when they disappear, so to anyone that might remember me and come across this blog:
I was here. I stayed, and it hurt so much, and I thought this kind of suffering would be never ending. And it wasn't. So I left.
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fortheloveofwonderland · 11 months ago
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Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 17 | S.R
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Chapter Summary - Spencer struggles with the side effects of his medication before his worlds collide. Secrets and feelings come rushing to the surface causing Spencer to battle with his alcoholism.
Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader
Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.
Warnings - antidepressant side effects, erectile dysfunction, making out, brief mention of oral (fem! Receiving), talk of therapy, Spencer struggles with his drinking, mentions of failed masturbation, swearing, drinking, break ups.
WC - 5.8k
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Chapter 17 - Someone You Loved
I’m going under and this time I fear there's no one to save me,
This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy.
I need somebody to heal,
Somebody to know,
Somebody to have,
Somebody to hold.
It's easy to say,
But it's never the same,
I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain.
“I swear this has nothing to do with you.” Spencer tried to insist, a look of mortification on his face. 
Blair pulled the sheets up around her naked body, looking as uncomfortable as Spencer did. 
“I mean, I guess you wouldn’t tell me if it was.” She chewed on her bottom lip. 
The girls left for California yesterday and tonight Spencer had taken Blair to the movies before they’d ventured back to his house. 
The moment they’d walked through the door things had grown hot and heavy, a trail of clothes left between the front door and his bedroom. 
They made out fiercely for some time but nothing was happening for Spencer. Even once she was naked and he pawed at her body, there was no movement downstairs. 
He’d gone down on her in the hopes it would awaken his lifeless cock. Usually it would have worked, worshipping a woman with his tongue was one of his most favourite activities. 
But even still, his cock would not cooperate. 
Eventually Blair had shied away, clearly thinking his dicks lack of interest was her fault. 
“Goddamnit,” he shook his head as the realisation washed over him. “It’s my meds.” 
“Meds?” Blair tentatively asked.
Spencer sighed, his whole body heaving as he did so. This wasn’t how he wanted to tell her about this, he wasn’t sure he planned on telling her at all if truth be told.
“When you looked after the girls for me last week, I didn’t have a work thing. I had my first therapy session.” He would so much rather have this conversation with more clothes on. 
Blair shuffled up in the bed, keeping the sheet pulled tightly around her as she lent against the pillows. 
“Why did you lie to me?” She looked at him curiously. 
“We’d be on one date, I didn’t want to freak you out. My doctor prescribed me antidepressants. I’ve been taking them for almost a week and she said within a week I might start noticing some side effects. One of which being…”
“Erectile dysfunction.” Blair fielded when he trailed off. 
He pulled face and nodded, raking his fingers through his messy hair. 
“It won’t last forever. I did some research. Supposedly within fourteen days I should start to see the side effects wear off.” He hung his head. 
“You could have told me,” she placed her hand on his arm. “It’s ok Spencer. There’s nothing wrong with admitting you need a little help.” 
“I just didn’t want you to think I was some kind of basket case.” He glanced at her. 
“I don’t.” She insisted, smiling softly at him. “But from now on you’re going to need to be honest with me ok?” 
“You’re not leaving?” 
“Why would I leave?”
“Because…” he trailed off, nodding his head in the direction of his crotch. 
“I can wait.” She squeezed his arm. “And I didn’t exactly come away empty handed in this situation.”
“No, you did not.” That was just me.
“So no more secrets?” 
“There is one more thing I should tell you,” He shuffled in the bed so he could get a better look at her. “On our date I didn’t drink. And that’s because I’ve recently quit drinking.” 
She narrowed her eyes on him, scrutinising him. It made him feel uncomfortable. 
“You had a problem?” Her eyebrows knitted together.
“I guess. I’ve been drinking a lot since my wife left, only when my kids aren’t home. I’ve battled addiction once before, a long time ago and I didn’t want it to get to that point again. So I’ve quit drinking all together.” He pursed his lips, waiting for her reaction.
“And you didn’t tell me because of what I told you about my ex.” She nodded. 
“Yeah,” he agreed. “There are a lot of men out there who have way less issues than me, way less complications. I would totally understand if you wanted to walk away before this gets serious.” 
Her expression was curious as she looked at him, lip twitching slightly at the corner. She took hold of his hand in hers.
“Why would I want to walk away?” Her smile grew until it encompassed her face. 
“So many reasons.” He laughed but Blair leaned in and kissed him. 
“I like you Spencer, you aren’t going to scare me away so easily.” She mumbled against his lips. 
“Good to know,” he cupped her face, placing a kiss on her forehead. 
“Before I forget, my gallery is having this big, fancy show on Tuesday night. I wondered if you wanted to come? I’ll be working up until the show starts and I might have to do some running around during the night but for the most part I should be able to enjoy it with you.” 
“I’m pretty good with my own company so even if you do need to run off I can take care of myself.” He smiled at her.
“So that’s a yes?” Her eyes sparkled.
“Yes, I’d love to come.” He kissed her again and rolled her back to the mattress, climbing on top of her.
She giggled into the kiss, wrapping her arms around him.
“What are you doing?” She laughed, his lips trailing down her neck towards her collarbones.
“Just because I can’t exactly show it right now, doesn’t mean for a second that I don’t love being between your legs.” He spoke against her skin and she moaned at his words.
His lips continued lower and her fingers threaded into his messy locks when he started kissing across the planes of her stomach. Soon his head was dipping lower and Blair’s eyes rolled back in her head. 
Spencer was only mildly disappointed when he still couldn’t get it up.
***
You smiled sleepily as Sam strolled back in the room, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and carrying two glasses of water. He got back into bed and handed you one, which you sipped before setting on the nightstand.
“I think I’m going to sleep for a week.” Your head flopped to your pillow. 
“Me too,” he chuckled, laying down to face you. “But I have to say, I very much enjoyed skipping our dinner plans for this.” 
“Agreed.” Your eyes started to flutter closed.
You’d spent the whole evening in bed together, exploring each other’s body and finding new ways to get each other off. It had been fun but you were still yearning for more, for someone else. 
Sam was good in bed, great really. But he couldn’t make you come with the ease in which Spencer always had. Sometimes it didn’t even seem as though Spencer needed to try. 
You hadn’t meant to think about him, but at some point during the night he’d just slipped to the forefront of your mind and once he was there, you couldn’t get rid of him. 
It was good with Sam but there was something missing. That spark of passion, that desperation. Hopefully one day you’d be able to stop thinking about your ex, but today certainly wasn’t that day. 
“Before you fall asleep,” Sam spoke, tucking your hair gently behind your ear. “A guy at work’s wife is an up and coming artist and she’s showing in some gallery in the district on Tuesday night. He got us all tickets and I’ve got a plus one.” 
“An art show?” You opened your eyes. 
“Yep. Super fancy apparently.” He smiled at you. 
“That sounds amazing. Let’s do it.” You pulled him close by his broad shoulder and kissed him. 
“Great, I can’t wait.” He settled down and pulled you into his arms. 
Your head found purchase on his chest and you tried to focus on the rhythmic beating of his heart. He held you close, placing sporadic kisses on the top of your head. 
Maybe one day you would grow to love him. If you could learn how to stop loving Spencer first. 
***
The girls called everyday to regale Spencer with stories from California. And despite herself, Daisy was actually having a lot of fun. 
It at least allowed Spencer to worry less about one aspect of his life. 
He dressed in his best suit, crisp white button down, black jacket and slacks paired with a black tie. He even passed on his trusty converse and went with his black dress shoes instead. 
He shaved, slicked his hair back off of his face in the hopes it wouldn’t look so messy. He spritzed a little of an old bottle of cologne he found in the back of the bathroom cabinet. 
Forgoing his satchel he slipped his keys, phone and wallet in his pocket along with the art show invite. 
Blair was already at the gallery setting up and she was meeting him there. And for some reason Spencer was incredibly nervous. 
It occurred to him that there would be alcohol at this event and he wasn’t sure he had the strength to be around that much temptation. 
He’d had his second therapy session this morning and spoken to Doctor Sanchez about it at length. 
He felt better for talking about it but he was still concerned. Maybe he’d need a meeting again soon, he was certainly craving something to take the edge off. 
It didn’t help being alone in his stupidly large house. The girls had been gone for four days, the longest he’d been on his own in this house for. 
It was too quiet all the time, too big and empty and lonely. Honestly he couldn’t wait for them to come home.
He had Taco he supposed but that somehow made the situation more depressing. 
At Luke’s instruction Spencer had installed a child gate at the bottom of his stairs to stop Taco having the run of the house. The dog needed boundaries and thus he was now only allowed on the ground floor, something Spencer was glad about but knew his kids wouldn’t be.
Luke advised to try and leave him home on his own more and not let him get used to kennels. He told him to shut Taco in the kitchen when he went out, so as to limit any destruction he may cause. 
Spencer had moved the dog's bed into the kitchen, in the corner next to the fridge. Luke told him to ensure he had food and plenty of water and even leave a couple of toys out for him to play with when he was bored, hopefully to stop him attacking anything that didn’t belong to him. 
So far Taco had not had another rampage during the small windows Spencer left him alone. Luke’s advice seemed to be working and he wasn’t sure why he was surprised about that, clearly Luke knew what he was doing.
Tomorrow Luke was coming over and they were going to take Taco to an enclosed dog park so Spencer could start to train him off lead around other dogs. Aside from Roxy, Taco was not very good with other dogs, usually hiding behind Spencer when one came near. Roxy was the exception to his rule. 
He’d also, somewhat reluctantly, talked to his Doctor about his problem with the meds. He really did not enjoy talking about the fact he couldn’t get hard but it was starting to get on his nerves. 
He’d spent a lot of time the past few days trying to masturbate. Trying and failing miserably. At best he’d managed to get a semi, but even when he did it didn’t last long before he was flaccid again. 
He felt like he was being betrayed by his own anatomy, like it had turned against him. Since he was a teenager and discovering self pleasure for the first time, Spencer had never once had a problem getting it up. 
Doctor Sanchez assured him those side effects would lessen over time and unfortunately he needed to exercise patience. He didn’t feel particularly patient though. He just wanted to have a goddamn orgasm. 
He had a half hour until the gallery opened and so he shut Taco in the kitchen, bid him adieu and left the house, trying to leave thoughts of that nature at home. 
***
You cautiously pushed open the door of the chic looking art gallery, handing your invite over to the man on the door. You swallowed nervously and stepped inside. 
It was already packed, although admittedly you were running a little late. Today was the deadline for your final thesis and you’d used every available minute you could to perfect it. 
If all went well you could have your doctorate in a few months but you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself. You were using tonight as an excuse to get out of your head and just have some fun.
You spotted Sam with ease, at six foot five he towered over the crowds. He saw you too and grinned wildly at you, making a beeline for you. 
“Holy shit,” he gasped, eyes grazing up and down your body. “You look phenomenal.” 
You felt your cheeks redden and you rolled your lip between your teeth. You’d found the dress in the back of your closet, you hadn’t had an excuse to wear it in years. 
It was a black, one shoulder, floor length garment which hugged your curves in all the right places. It had a slit up one side, all the way to your thigh. 
Sam looked much like the cat that got the cream. 
“Thanks,” you shrugged. “You did say fancy.” 
“I did say that. And you delivered.” He placed his hand on your lower back and kissed you gently. 
He didn’t look so bad himself. You’d never seen him in a suit before and he looked devilishly handsome, even if the fabric of his jacket looked as though it struggled to contain his large biceps. 
In another life, he could have been a football player, he certainly had the build for it. He played in high school but ended up following in his father’s footsteps and becoming a lawyer, a very well respected one at that. 
“I want to show you off, is that ok?” He motioned you forward with his hand still on your back. 
“I didn’t get this dressed up for nothing.” You smirked. 
He picked up two champagne flutes from a passing waiter and handed you one before continuing to lead you forward towards the group of his work colleagues. You took a sip of your drink as you walked and accidentally nudged against someone.
“Oh gosh, I’m sorry.” The woman halted in her tracks, her large icy blue eyes full of apologies.
Her long dark hair was curled to frame her petite face. She wore a stunning satin blue dress that cut off at the knees and she held a clipboard under one arm. 
“Don’t be, it was my fault.” You smiled at her. 
Sam removed his hand from your back and nodded in the direction of his colleagues, wordlessly telling you to join him before he headed over. 
“I think I was a little to blame, I’m getting a bit flustered.” She laughed lightly, a nice, easy sound as she motioned to the clipboard. “It’s my first big event.”
“You’re an artist?” You found yourself asking, this woman was extremely easy to talk to.
“Oh no,” she laughed again with a shake of her head. “I’m the manager here. Just making sure things are running smoothly before I can enjoy my night. I think my date would appreciate it, he’s looking a little like a spare part…I’m sorry I have no idea why I’m telling you all of this.” 
“It’s fine.” You smiled at her, hoping to calm her. “For the record this place looks great. I mean I don’t know much about art shows but it looks like it's going pretty well.” 
“Thank you, even if you don’t know what you’re talking about that means a lot.” She laughed yet again before holding her hand out. “I’m Blair.”
“Y/N.” You shook her hand. 
“Nice to meet you. Perhaps once things have calmed down we can have a drink.” Blair shrugged awkwardly.
“I’d like that.” You nodded. “Come find me when you have a chance.” 
Blair left you with a nod of agreement before she carried on with her rounds. You took a breath and sidled up to Sam who was laughing heartily at something one of his friends had said. 
When he felt you at his side he was quick to put his arm around you, looking at you with pride swelling in his chest.
“Everyone, this is my gorgeous date, Y/N.” He beamed. “Y/N, this is Sampson, Richards, Sinclair and Montgomery.” 
“Hi,” you waved at the group. “It’s so nice to meet you all, Sam has told me so much about all of you.” 
You fell into conversation with the group, nuzzling against Sam’s side, watching him converse with these men. He was clearly in his element, a side of him coming out you hadn’t seen before.
He was more confident, he laughed in a way you’d never heard him laugh before. Perhaps it was the kind of fake laugh he used around colleagues, a persona he’d created to fit in with the other lawyers at his firm. 
You mostly stayed silent, only speaking if someone asked you a direct question. The more time you spent with Sam and his work friends, the less you felt like you fit into his world. 
When it was just the two of you things were wonderful, but after seeing him tonight with his colleagues you weren’t sure you liked this side of him. He was a little smarmy, making inappropriate jokes just to fit in with the other men. This wasn’t the Sam you’d known in college, and it wasn’t the Sam you’d gotten reacquainted with recently. 
You knew it was probably just an act but that still didn’t mean you liked it. And perhaps all those doubts you’d had about him in the back of your mind were coming to the surface all at once and flooding your senses. 
But you were sure of one thing. As you stood there like some kind of trophy on his arm, you knew you and Sam had no future together. It was possible after tonight you wouldn’t even have a tomorrow.
***
Spencer made the rounds, eyeing each of the pieces of art hanging on the stark white walls in slight confusion. He understood that art was subjective but he did not understand any of these paintings. 
Art had never been his thing. He had a few pieces in his home but they had been Maeve’s decorating choice not his. 
Maybe if Blair would stop running around like a headless chicken for two minutes she could explain some of this stuff to him. Or better yet maybe they could make out in the corner instead. 
He tried to keep his head down and ignore the near constant passing trays of champagne. He would give his right arm for a drink right about now, even if only to stem his boredom. 
After taking in the artwork he settled over by a back wall, slowly sipping a glass of water. He wanted to go home, being alone with his dog had to be better than being alone in a crowded room. 
Time passed painfully slowly, like it may have actually stopped altogether. This was not quite the night Spencer had in mind. 
It was well over an hour since he’d arrived when Blair, in a blur of blue satin, headed his way. Her clipboard was gone, and he perked up. 
“Are you done with work now? At the risk of sounding like Lily, I’m so bored.” He held his arms open for her and she embraced him, giving him a chaste kiss. 
“I think so.” She smiled guiltily. “I’m sorry I dragged you here.”
“I don’t mind being dragged places as long as I actually get to spend time with you.” 
“I’m all yours now, I swear.” She stroked his cheek. “Have I told you how handsome you look tonight?” 
“It was implied.” He smirked. “You look absolutely incredible.” 
“I don’t scrub up half bad, do I?” She giggled. 
“You most certainly do not.” 
“I met this woman earlier. She looked almost as out of place as you do and I wanted to find her, make sure she was alright.” 
“You just can’t turn off that mom-brain can you?” He teased, kissing her cheek. “Let’s go.” 
“You’re sure? I’m sorry, I know this isn’t the night you had planned.” She pouted her apology. 
“It’s fine, it’s cute that you care so much.” 
“I mean I wouldn’t take in stray dogs like some people.” 
“I’d like to see you try and say no to my girls. Honestly it’s impossible. Those damn little pleading eyes and when they pout it rips me apart.” He held his hand to his chest. 
“You’re a softy.” Blair teased, slipping her hand in his and forcibly removing him from where he’d been leaning against the wall. 
He pulled a face, slightly wounded by her words. He knew she hadn’t meant them in the way he’d taken them but he couldn’t help find the second meaning to it. 
Clearly she noticed him tense and she looked at him, quickly realising her error. 
“Not like that. I’m sorry I didn’t mean…” she trailed off and Spencer filled in the blanks in his head. 
You didn’t mean to reference the fact I can’t get a goddamn erection. 
“I know you didn’t.” He tried to shake it off. “Just touched a nerve.” 
“I’m sorry. Poor choice of words.” She squeezed his hand. 
“It’s fine, it’s just a sensitive topic.” 
“It’s still not…?”
“Cooperating? No.” He shook his head. 
“I mean I’m kinda glad it wasn’t just me.” She shrugged. 
“Trust me it is not just you.” He sighed. “But I would really rather not be talking about my sexual problems right now.” 
“Of course. Let’s go mingle shall we?” She squeezed his hand again.
“Sure.” He nodded, swallowing down his embarrassment. 
He let Blair lead him through the crowds, talked amicably to people she was trying to schmooze into buying the very expensive artwork. 
Spencer felt tense, tenser than he had already felt now his erectile issues were playing on his mind again. 
If he couldn’t even muster a little excitement seeing Blair in that sinfully tight dress, he knew he was fucked. 
On top of everything else this was literally the last thing he needed to be dealing with. He already had two kids who barely listened to him, he didn’t need the same treatment from his dick. 
Life was unusually cruel. But it was about to get a whole lot crueller. 
***
After an hour of listening to Sam and his lawyer friends you were so ready for this night to be over. 
You’d consumed three glasses of champagne but you didn’t feel the nice buzz you were hoping for. You kept checking the time on your phone, praying for this night to end so you could leave. 
And you were sure it would be you and Sam’s last date. 
Sure he was lovely and sweet when it was just the two of you but you didn’t like this man he’d become tonight. If you continued to date there would inevitably be more nights like this with colleagues and you weren’t prepared to sign up for that. 
When his friends left the two of you alone finally tearing themselves away to at least pretend to look at the artwork, you breathed a sigh of relief.
“Are you ok? You’ve been really quiet tonight.” Sam asked once you were on your own. 
“I guess I’m just not feeling all that well. Do you mind if we go?” 
“Of course not. I’ll take you home.” He smiled, leaning in and kissing your cheek.
For a moment the rest of the night melted away and Sam was the same man you started to develop feelings for. But you had to remind yourself it wouldn’t always be like this and you knew you had to get out before things got too serious. 
He placed his hand once again on your lower back and started steering you towards the door. As you were weaving in and out people to the front of the gallery, you heard someone call your name. 
“Y/N! I’ve been looking for you.” 
You turned slowly on your heels, recognising Blair’s dulcet tone. You made eye contact with her and smiled briefly before you noticed the man standing at her side, holding her hand. 
Your eyes leisurely moved from Blair’s hand interlocked with another much larger one, up the slim frame of the man who the hand belonged to. When they landed on his face you felt your chest instantly tighten, and all the air left your lungs at lightning speed.
Spencer’s lips parted a little and you saw the way he sucked in a deep breath. But to his credit his expression didn’t change all that much.
Time seemed to stand still and Blair and Sam momentarily slipped away as the two of you stared at each other. You didn’t miss the way his eyes cast up and down your body, taking in the sight of you in that dress. 
Spencer didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when he felt the telltale stirring in his crotch seeing you in that goddamn dress. It wasn’t much, but it was the most his cock had reacted in over a week.
Blair and Sam both exchanged a look before she glanced back at you and Spencer, seemingly lost somewhere in your own world.
“Hi Y/N,” he finally spoke, his voice a little gruff. 
“Hi Spencer.” You replied, swallowing thickly. 
“You know each other?” Blair’s voice snapped you both out of the stare off and you looked at her wide eyed. 
“Uh, yeah.” You shrugged. “I guess. Uh…we were just leaving so…”
“Oh no, don’t leave!” Blair gasped, clearly not noticing the tension between you. 
“You haven’t even introduced us.” Sam’s hand ran up and down your back. 
“Right,” you nodded, your head was spinning and you thought you might throw up. “Sam, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is Sam.” 
“And Blair you seem to already know.” Spencer narrowed his eyes on you. 
“This is the woman I told you about. We met earlier.” Blair gave his hand a soft squeeze. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you for a single moment. 
“So introductions over. We really have to go. It was nice to meet you Blair. And it was…” you trailed off trying to find the right word. Nice to see him? No, that would be an outright lie. “I’ll see you.” 
You grabbed Sam by the forearm and spun him around, starting to drag him towards the door before anyone could say anymore. 
Spencer watched you go, heart in his throat. Seeing you had taken him by such surprise he honestly didn’t know how to react to it. 
“So,” Blair’s tone forced him to look away from you and back at her. “I can only assume by how awkward that was, that she’s your ex-wife? I thought she was in California?”
“That’s not my ex-wife.” He shook his head, only then realising he’d never said Maeve’s name in front of Blair. “But she is an ex. We dated for a few months before I met you but it ended terribly.” 
“I can tell.” Blair rolled her eyes, freeing her hand from his. “Another secret you kept from me. We talked about dating history Spencer, you never once mentioned her.” 
“I know.” He shrugged. “I don’t have any excuses for that. I just wasn’t ready to talk about her.” 
“I don’t like being lied to, Spencer and I hate being blindsided. You need to take a breath, figure out what it is you want. I’m not looking to be messed around, I’ve been there before. I like you and if I’m the person you want to be with I’m all in. But quite frankly, I don’t want to compete with Y/N and your ex-wife.” Blair folded her arms across her chest. 
“That’s fair.” He nodded. “I’m sorry. I guess I should go. I just need some time to think, ok? But I’ll call you.” 
“Don’t,” she shook her head. “Not unless I’m the one you’re choosing.” 
With that she turned away and weaved between people until she was out of sight. Spencer felt a led weight emerge in his chest as he forced himself to leave. He shoved open the gallery door and stepped onto the dark street, briefly glancing around to see if you might still be here but came up short.
He rolled his lip violently between his teeth. The only thing he could focus on was his desperate need for a drink. He pushed everything else aside and started down the street in the direction of the nearest bar.
***
You and Sam walked in silence for a few blocks, your arms wrapped around yourself and his hands in his pockets. The silence was deafening. You wanted to say something to alleviate the discomfort but had no idea what to say. 
Eventually you heard Sam’s footsteps slowing until he stopped all together. You halted your movements too and faced him. 
“So that’s the professor?” He dove straight in.
“Was it that obvious?” You hugged your arms tighter around yourself. 
“Anyone within a five block radius could see the way he was undressing you with his eyes.” Sam scoffed.
“He was not.” You rolled your eyes. 
“Trust me Y/N, I have done the same thing to you enough tonight to know that look. And it wasn’t just the fact he was undressing you with his eyes, it was that it was clear he knew exactly what you look like under that dress.” He took his hands out of his pocket and folded his arms across his chest. 
“We both have exes, Sam.” You shrugged in frustration. 
“Yes, we do.” He agreed. “But I’m not still in love with any of mine.” 
You felt tears brimming in your eyes and you tried to blink them back. 
“There really isn’t any point in me lying to you, Sam. Yes I still have feelings for Spencer. It was recent and I guess I didn’t really give myself a chance to get over him before we started dating.” You sniffed.
“Well here’s your chance.” He spat. 
“What do you mean?” You frowned at him. 
“You can have all the time in the world to get over him Y/N because I’m out. I’m done.” He dropped his arms to his sides. 
“Sam, don’t say that.” You took a step closer to him but he shook his head.
“I’m not looking to be a rebound, Y/N. I’ve been crazy about you since college. I always thought the reason I never settled down was because of you. I couldn’t believe my luck when I bumped into you again, it felt like fate or something. But I don’t want to be with someone who wants to be with someone else.” He ran his fingers through his hair and started pacing the sidewalk.
You had a horrible feeling of deja vu, except you were Sam and Spencer was you. It took you back to the day on the front steps of your building after you’d heard Spencer confess his feelings for his ex-wife. 
What Sam was saying felt so reminiscent of what you’d told Spencer that day.
I think you need to deal with whatever residual emotions you’ve been harbouring for her before you jump into something else. I don’t want to be someone’s second choice, Spencer.
Right now you couldn’t even begin to unpack how much it hurt that instead of dealing with his feelings for Maeve, he’d found someone else. Someone beautiful with electric eyes and a heart warming laugh. 
Someone who wasn’t you. 
You swallowed, understanding exactly where Sam was coming from and knowing you couldn’t argue with him. It wasn’t fair on him, it wasn’t fair on you. 
“You’re right. It’s not fair on you, I really am sorry.” Your first tear fell.
“So I am.” He sighed. “So am I.” 
***
He sat at the bar staring down into the glass of scotch. It had remained untouched since the bartender placed it in front of him and the ice cubes had started to melt. 
In the last twenty minutes he’d typed out three different text messages to you.
📱 Y/N, it was really good to see you tonight. I hope everything is well with you. Enjoy the rest of your summer. 
📱 Y/N, can we talk? I would really like to talk to you, so maybe you can meet me for a drink? I’m at Dooley’s near the art gallery. Please come and meet me. 
And finally - 
📱 Y/N, I miss you so fucking much. Seeing you tonight was like a jolt of electricity. I’ve been an idiot. I love you, I love you so much. Please say you still love me too. 
So far he had not sent a single one, which was probably for the best. Instead he continued to stare down into the taunting drink and contemplated throwing away his newfound sobriety in lieu of getting blind drunk just to take some of his pain away. 
His life was just one fuck up after another recently and no matter how hard he tried to better himself he kept stumbling over each new hurdle. 
He pulled out his phone again and opened the photos app. His phone was old and the images were grainy but he needed a reminder of why he needed to stay sober. 
He pulled up a recent picture of Daisy and Lily, Taco cradled in the younger girl's lap as they smiled brightly for the camera. 
A tear crept from his eye. He missed them so much. He wished they were here, wished he could hold them, to feel tethered to them in order to stop himself from throwing his life away at the bottom of a bottle. 
It was too late to call but he wished he could hear their voices, have them pull him back from the brink. 
Maybe he should call Tara. 
Chances were she was working and if she wasn’t she’d no doubt be at home in bed at this hour. 
He didn’t want to burden her, but he could really use a meeting right now and he certainly wasn’t strong enough to go on his own. 
He pulled up his contacts and located her number. His thumb hovered above it for a moment or two before he slammed the device back on the bar counter. 
Then he picked up the glass and downed the scotch in one. And then he quickly ordered another. 
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