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kurikive · 6 months ago

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sticky | kim minji

things between you and minji are... sticky this summer.

— childhood friends to lovers, summer trip, soccer player!reader, slowish burn, lowkey bromance, futchish READER 💜

contains : cursing, kinda slight makeoutism, a lot of bro and dude, just a little bit of angst but i promise its literally nothing, NOT proofread at all i am tireeeddd

wc: 13.7k words

inspired by : Sticky — KISS OF LIFE

You're not really sure how you got here.

You’re watching the sunset at the beach with Kim Minji, your hand in between hers and the sand below you, your face two inches from her own, your lips two seconds away from colliding.

Actually, let's rewind.

It’s summer! It's been 3 long years of being away in Seoul. A soccer scholarship was always great, and you were having a fantastic time with your teammates and classmates, but you were completely burnt out after these exhausting last 6 months.

Korea University Anam Tigers proudly win 3rd place in the U-League for the first half of the season. 5 wins, 2 draws, 3 losses. Not too bad. You did better last year, but you're sure you'll recover and bounce back during the second half. Or maybe it was the alcohol and smell of grilled beef that was making you emotional.

After you finalize your amazing speech with a broken voice and a tear threatening to leave your eye, you realize you're actually quite drunk. The applause of your teammates startles you, and they may be mocking your sentimental state with their laughs and ‘aww’s and teasing pushes, but they cheer you on anyway.

“Han Y/N!” One of your teammates, Hsu Nientsu, also pretty tipsy, nudges your left arm as you sit back down, “Don't get so sensitive with us now!”

“Our Y/Nie gets emotional when drunk, huh?” Central striker Ahn Yujin, leader of the team, pinches one of your red cheeks from across the table, action to which you groan at.

“I just…” You sigh, drowsy and teary eyes block your vision yet you can still tell all your teammates are looking at you. “I really love our team and want us to do our best…” You make a mental note to never get drunk with your team again when they coo at you for a second time.

“Well then,” Oh Haewon starts pouring you another shot (she usually would make you pour it yourself, but your flimsy arms and hung head bring out the instinct to take care of you instead), “Let's climb up the leaderboard for Leftie!” She declares as she leaves the small glass of soju on your side of the table.

You hate the nickname. Nientsu came up with it the first year of your scholarship because when you were supposed to be in central midfield you spent most of your time on the left side of the field, for some reason. Her broken Korean and teasing nature muttered the name in an attempt to mock you and everyone started repeating after. You can't complain much about it. It stuck too well.

You take the shot and grimace at the bitter taste of alcohol. You're still not used to it even after countless team dinners.

Won Haneul, your roommate, best friend and goalkeeper, laughs at your expression. The other girls have already picked up their own conversation, yet she seems very entertained at your drunken state, “Unnie, are you sure you don't want to go?” You've told her multiple times to drop the formalities, it's a one year difference; she keeps refusing.

You look to your right and you (hardly) see her looking at you worried, but still smiling. It takes a couple seconds for you to process her words. “I… I think I should go.” You slur, you're sure you'll die if you take another shot.

Haneul nods, understanding as always. “Guys, I think me and Y/N unnie are gonna head back now!” You hear your teammates complain and whine but you can't make out anything they're saying.

“I'm too drunk!” You try your best to scold them, “And I have my last class tomorrow…”

A soccer scholarship didn't mean you were just in Seoul to play soccer and get drunk with your friends. You also had to study and attend classes, like everyone else. Maybe you would've had it easier if you had chosen Physical Education as your major. But no, you had chosen Media and Communication for some reason.

At least it was the last class before break.

“Go then! Quick! Get away!” You hear Jung Sunhye drunkenly shoo you two away. It makes you giggle. You wave goodbye to your teammates with your frail arms, it makes you look like a car rental inflatable. You hear a chorus of ‘sleep well’s and ‘Bye Y/N’s.

Haneul holds you as you walk out of the BBQ place, and then a cold wave of air hits you right when you realize you have to go up the hill to get to your dorm. You don't know if the chill you get in your spine is from the cool late night air or the dread of borderline hiking while drunk.

“Haneul, I'm sorry.” You don't even want to look at her in fear of getting dizzy. You're only a few steps up the hill but you're already breathing a little heavy. However, your apologetic expression is enough for her to understand your feelings.

“It's okay, unnie!” She's such a joy to have around not only as a teammate but as a friend. You hope her kindness never leads her to getting taken advantage of. You and the other girls would ruin the life of whoever could even dare.

“I'm really grateful for you, y’know?” You probably shouldn't talk while you're rapidly growing out of breath, but you're already sentimental.

“I'm flattered.” She says with a light laugh while pushing you from behind, making it easier for you to walk upwards.

“Are you going back to Suwon this summer?” You ask after a while of more heavy steps. Haneul had also gotten a scholarship and moved from Suwon to Seoul, therefore getting to be roommates with you.

“Mhm! Gonna go see my parents.” Her voice turns a little softer and you notice even when you're mostly out of your conscious mind. “What about you, unnie? Are you gonna stay here?”

It's been three years since you left your hometown and replaced the ocean with the river. Three years since you left your friends behind. Three years since leaving your mom and dad.

Of course you missed them. How could you not? It's not like you were avoiding them, the last summers were just filled to the brim with practice and studying and everything got tangled and you didn't even leave time for yourself.

That's over, though. You can already see yourself on the shore.

And then you're at the bus terminal. Hands shaky and heavy steps, just like the ones you took walking up the hill of your dorm building. You carry your backpack at your front and hold your gym bag on your left hand. You wait in line to step inside your bus and you think you're ready to fall asleep for the whole ride.

But once you're settled in your seat, your thoughts leave you restless.

There's a fear in the back of your mind that your friends will treat you differently when you arrive.

You've been gone for 3 years, and you talk slightly less now. But the group chat is still active, and you talk with them when you're allowed the time to. It's not like you've gone completely radio silent and disappeared from their lives.

It's just scary to be back.

But the scariest thing by far is the fear of being proven wrong. The fear of still liking her.

See, ever since you were a kid running around with a ball between your feet, you've had a crush on Kim Minji.

Neighborhood pretty girl. Class president in elementary, middle and high school. Best grades in your year. The most crushable girl ever.

You remember the first day you met her. You actually think about it a lot.

You were 7, playing soccer with your friend Gyuvin on the beach at sunset hours. There was no real goal to kick the ball towards, you were just trying to steal the ball from each other and keep it as long as possible. But then Gyuvin gets a little too close to taking the ball, and in panic you pass it to your right.

But there's no one to your right. And you realize you've just kicked it towards three girls about your same age building a sandcastle.

You see the ball roll away further and further away from you and Gyuvin, and closer and closer to the castle, and the girls don't seem to notice.

You don't know why you're frozen. You could've stopped the ball by now if you had run after it. Gyuvin notices your lack of movement and becomes the one who shouts instead, “BALL!”

It seems to wake both the girls and you up from your daze, and suddenly you're running as fast as you can to catch the ball before it collides with the sand clump. And you manage to catch it.

You had thrown yourself into the sand, and the ball gets stopped by your arms. But your head crashes into the sandcastle instead. It doesn't collapse completely, and it didn't hurt that much, but it suddenly knocked you out for a few seconds.

You hear Gyuvin’s voice behind you when your mind is back in its place. “We're really sorry! We'll help you patch it back up!” You shake of the sand from your head when you sit back up, and you can finally take a good look at the three girls.

They looked pissed.

The smallest of the girls speaks, “I guess you can help. You're lucky it didn't fall on your head.” She points at you and you feel guilt engulf your cheeks with its warmth.

“Great!” Your friend helps you shake off some of the remaining sand off of your head, “Let's get to work, Y/N!”

You're confused at his enthusiasm, you were just playing soccer with him a few seconds ago and now he wants to build a sandcastle with some girls you just met? “But… we were-”

Gyuvin cuts you off, “It's the least we can do. We almost destroyed it.” It makes sense, but you're still a little reluctant. You grab a shovel anyways.

Your friend is already introducing himself when you start digging a hole into the sand, “I'm Kim Gyuvin! What are your names?”

The short girl with short hair that spoke to you before is the first one to answer, “I'm Hanni Pham! I'm from Australia but we moved here a year ago.”

“Your parents like fish, huh?” The boy's joke makes Hanni's mouth open wide and her eyes dilate a good amount.

“How did you know?!”

“I'm Seol Yoona.” Says a girl with a voice so quiet you have to ask Gyuvin what her name was right after she said it, “What did she say?”

“Seol Yoona.” He repeats, and you get back to digging with a nod, not before you give an apologetic smile to the girl.

The last girl introduces herself, “I'm Kim Minji.” You notice three things about her. Her voice is deeper than the other two girls, her eyebrows are really pretty, and she's wearing a blue clip on her hair.

All three of the girls are pretty, but if Gyuvin asks you later who you thought was the prettiest you are sure you'll say Minji.

Said girl notices you've been doing nothing but dig since you started introducing yourselves. “What's the hole for?” She says.

“I'm gonna put water in it to make wet sand. It's going to make it easier to build and harder to collapse.” And right after you say that you stand up, bucket in hand, ready to go and fetch water from the shining ocean behind you.

But just as you're about to go, the girl with the pretty eyebrows calls out again, “What's your name? You never told us.” Right.

“Han Y/N.” You tell her with a smile.

“Han Y/N.” She repeats your name back to you, like you're not supposed to know it already. It sounds pretty coming from her.

The sunset glow crashes in the sea and bounces back into the eyes of the girl. You see them glisten as she looks into yours. Your heart starts beating as fast as it was when you were running around earlier.

“Don’t ever play soccer near my sandcastles.”

You look like an idiot, laughing by yourself in your seat. It's already night when you feel the bus stop in its tracks. You realize it's slightly warmer than when you departed, even at these hours of the night.

You're here. And you're not laughing anymore.

Everything you dread is getting closer by the second, and you don't want to face it.

It's been three years since the last time you saw your friends, since you saw Minji. Three years of only speaking to her in the group chat. Three years of believing you've gotten over her when in reality you were just getting distracted.

Because if you had truly moved on you wouldn't be worrying about moving on.

You step out of your bus and smell the scent of the ocean. Your worries fade away for the rest of the night. You'll worry about that tomorrow.

You're home.

It’s around 10:30 P.M. Knowing your parents they wouldn’t be asleep right now. They’re probably watching replays of soccer matches or some strange animal documentary. Even after three years you can tread lightly towards your home. Not much has changed.

The street lights are dim, and the wooden floor boards of the port are not much louder than the last time they squeaked beneath your feet. You take a picture of the moon watching over the dancing waves, then keep walking.

You wish you don’t run into any of your friends on the way to your house. It’s not like you don’t want to see them, but it’s late, and you couldn’t catch even a wink of sleep the whole ride. You just want to see your parents and sleep in between the warmth of their bodies like you did when you were just a kid. You chuckle at the memory.

You step into your neighborhood. Most of the lights are turned off, but you can hear a couple of things as you walk deeper into the block. Crickets, waves, and a couple different TV stations.

You get closer to the neighboring house from yours. Gyuvin’s house. The lights in the first floor are off, but there’s a dim light coming from the window of the bedroom facing the street. It (probably still) belonged to Gyuvin himself. You don’t really know what he’s doing at this hour of the night, but you won’t bother him right now, even when you get the urge to text him something like ‘look out ur window’.

You hear the voice of a commentator from outside the door of your house. They were watching replays. Knew it. You think about what to do next. It’ll be too loud if you ring the doorbell, Gyuvin might notice you’re here and come around to investigate, And then you get a sudden, bright idea.

You set your gym bag on the ground and start typing your mom’s number to call her, clicking on her contact when it shows up. You take a big breath and wait for her to answer, it doesn’t take her long.

“Hello, baby! What’s going on?” There’s a twinge of worry in her voice but she always answers so happily when you call her. You chuckle deviously, mischief is about to begin.

“Hi mama! I sent you guys a surprise, I’m calling to make sure if the package arrived safely. Sorry about the time, by the way.” You try to mask the smile appearing on your lips as you talk.

“A package?” She seems confused, “I.. We didn’t get anything.” She sounds a little more concerned.

“Really? Can you check the door? Maybe it came late.”

“I don’t think it’d come this late, darling.”

“Just check, ma. Please.” You hang up. You feel a little sorry for leaving your mother bothered and confused, but you try to telepathically tell her it’ll be worth it.

Your heartbeat starts picking up its pace when you hear the door unlock. You put your phone in your pocket and pick your bag up again.

When the door opens, the first thing you notice is your mom’s disheveled hair, probably from laying on the couch and watching TV. The second thing you notice is that her eyes immediately fall on the doorstep, and she frowns when she finds nothing. The third thing you notice is that, even before she realizes you’re there, she’s already taking out her phone to call you again, but she sees a pair of shoes in front of her before she gets around to doing that.

Her eyes travel from your old sneakers to the top of your head, and then they fall back at your face. Her jaw drops and her eyes look like they hold the moonlight in them when she realizes it’s actually you.

“Y/Nie…” She’s a little breathless when she says your name, and you laugh at the sound of rustling behind her. Your dad probably heard her.

“Hello!” You simply greet. Your father appears shortly behind your mother and you send a wave at him when you see he’s making the exact same expression as her. “Am I going to be outside all night? That’s how you greet your daughter?”

Your mother throws herself at you with a hearty laugh, it makes you happy too. “When did you get here?!” She asks, a little too loud for your liking, but you won’t complain. You pull away to greet your dad, who was frozen on the doorframe.

“Just now, actually.” Your father is in shock, but he does his best to hug you back, and the hug gets tighter when he finally understands it’s really his daughter. You giggle a little at his lack of words, then tap his back a little rougher when you start struggling to breathe, “Hey! Not so tight!”

He lets go and you hear him laugh more calmly now. “Let’s go in. Gyuvin doesn’t know I’m here yet and I want to surprise him tomorrow.” Your mom closes the door behind you, and then hits you on the back, quite roughly for your taste.

“How dare you not tell us you were coming?!” She rubs the same spot where she hit you when she hears you hiss at the pain, “It was a surprise!” You argue.

“Did you have dinner?” Your dad asks already in the kitchen, and your stomach growls even before you can respond. You giggle shyly at the noise, “I’ll take that as a no.” He says, “Go sit with your mom and watch TV with her. I’ll heat up something.”

“Oh, we’re not watching anything. You’re gonna tell me everything you’ve been doing.” Your mother taps the seat beside her on the couch, which you gladly take. “How was the season?”

You’re so happy to be back.

You wake up with the sunrise.

You fully expected to open your eyes and be hugging your mom while your dad was already up in the kitchen. And that did happen, except you wake up with your back sore from falling asleep on the couch. Your dad is in the kitchen, making breakfast for you three.

You rub your eyes and yawn. It wasn’t that late, you woke up pretty early actually. 8:27 A.M. Maybe it’s because your body is used to waking up early. Your dad looks back at you and laughs at your messy hair, smiles brighter when he sees one of your mom’s arms sticking out of the couch. “Rise and shine!” He says brightly.

“Morning…” The sound of your croaky voice seems to wake up your mom, as she’s already rubbing her face.

“Smells good.” She says in the same tone as you. “Is it almost done?”

“I just finished. Come take a seat.” Your dad turns off the gas from the stove. The scent of kimchi jjigae fills your home, and it makes you feel a lot more energized even before having a taste of it.

You run your hand through your hair to try and make it more presentable. Your mother goes up to your dad to ask for a taste, he waits for her approval. You start setting the cutlery and it makes you think of the mornings before school, but rather than getting sentimental, you enjoy the moment with a smile.

“Y/Nie, do you want apple juice?” Your mom asks with the fridge open, you just nod as you sit down.

When the three of you sit down to finally eat, you start to realize how much you actually missed this. You spent your mornings in Seoul either eating a quick and not-really-filling meal, or eating an energy bar and a vending machine kimbap with your teammates before practice. You don’t remember the last time you had a hearty breakfast.

The sound of laughter and birds chirping combined with the smell of a home cooked meal and the warmth of a seaside morning couldn’t compare to any of the emotions that crossed your heart whenever you won a match.

Your mom and dad gossip to you about your neighbors and everything you missed while you were away.

You don’t find it hard to believe when they tell you that the weird old man that used to drink his nights away at the port got arrested. One of your neighbors' sons dropped out of college to be a model, Kim Sunoo apparently. Good for him, you always thought he had a pretty face.

Supposedly, Minji keeps her title as the number 1 student even in college. You’re not surprised, but you do feel full all of a sudden. There’s just a little bit of stew left when you groan, “Ah… I’m full…”

Your mom raises an eyebrow, “Already?” She looks at your bowl and laughs, “Nevermind, you finished pretty fast.”

“Do you eat well in Seoul?” Your dad asks. You feel a little flustered at the question and stutter when you answer, “I mean… not in the morning, but I eat pretty healthily the rest of the day. Me and Haneul prepare meals when we have afternoon practice. I’d say we’re pretty good cooks.”

Your parents laugh, “I guess we’ll put you to the test one day.” Your mom nudges you, “And it’s ‘Haneul and I’, by the way.”

The correction makes your eyes roll as you stand up to wash your dishes, “Yeah, yeah, grammar queen. I’m gonna go take a shower and go to Gyuvin’s to surprise him, ‘kay?”

“Aye aye, captain!” Either your parents planned to do the same move and say the same thing at the same time beforehand, or they’re literal soulmates.

You get out of the shower and choose a simple outfit- some baggy, ripped jeans and a graphic tee that you found in your closet (you asked your mom if it was clean enough for you to wear, considering the closet looked a little dusty; she said it was fine). The shirt felt a little tight around the arms and it was quite smaller than you expected, but it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. If anything it made the outfit more interesting.

So you stand outside your friend's house, with nothing in your hands but a smile on your face. You’re not really sure if it’ll be him or his mom answering the door, but you hope either of them will be happy to see you.

You ring the doorbell, and immediately hear footsteps get closer from inside. You don’t know if your heart is going to race everytime this happens, but you just hope you get used to the feeling. The door opens and you're met with a familiar face, Ms. Kim, Gyuvin’s mom, dressed up and ready to go to work. It’s summer, though?

“Y/Nie?” She looks delighted to see you, and yet quite surprised. “You came back!”

You give her a bright smile after you bow in respect, “Good morning, Ms. Kim! How have you been?”

She steps back in a manner to invite you inside, “Oh, I’ve been well, dear. Gyuvin told me you weren’t able to visit these past years. We all missed you very much.” Her words surprise you, and you feel a little guilt squeezing your heart for two seconds.

“I’m glad to hear that, Ms.” She walks around the kitchen, packing what seems to be a lunchbox into her bag, yet still giving you her full attention. “Are you heading to work?” You ask curiously.

“Oh, yeah.” She looks a little agitated, “They don’t give me breaks, baby. I work for the news now!”

“Oh! How has that been going?”

She stops in her tracks, “Honestly, quite great.” She says, and you both laugh together. “Does Gyuvin know you’re here? I imagine he’s who you came to see.”

“He doesn’t.” The woman looks quite surprised. “I wanted to surprise him. I arrived just yesterday.”

“Oh honey, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.” She laughs and you chuckle, “I hope not!” You say,

“He’s in his room. He’s probably still asleep, but he’ll wake up if you knock hard enough. Make sure he doesn’t think you’re me, then he won’t get up.” The woman unlocks the door, coat hanging from her arm and bag over her shoulder, when she sees you nod. “I heard you won third place this half, right?”

“That’s right, ma’am.” You proudly say.

“Go Tigers!” Is the last thing she says before she walks out of the door. What a charming woman. You smile at yourself before walking up the stairs to your friend’s room.

Knock knock. No answer.

Knock knock knock. A groan.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. A louder groan.

“Kim Gyuvin, I will bust your door down.” You yell, “You think my legs haven’t gotten stronger?”

Fast stomps and the sound of a clutter of objects falling on the ground startle you slightly. The door opens so roughly you wonder if Gyuvin himself has also gotten stronger.

“Y/N?!”

“What fell on the ground?” You chuckle. He hugs you, possibly tighter than your dad. You didn’t quite expect it, but you welcome it anyway.

He pulls away like he’s checking if you’re not a hologram. You laugh the hardest when he pokes your cheek. He looks relieved, then mad. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?! When did you get here?!”

“I got here yesterday. You were still awake, I think. But I wanted to greet you properly, and I was really tired last night.” You explain with a little bit of remorse.

“Dude!” He hugs you once again, “Bro, I can’t believe you're back!” You hug him just as tightly. “I’m really happy I’m here.”

He pushes you lightly with a smirk, “Don’t get sappy on me.” He teases, “Congrats on third place, tiger.” You cringe at the nickname and push him back.

“Eww!” You both laugh, and you notice the bundle of things he has on the floor of his room, “You dropped all that?”

Gyuvin looks back, and pushes you out of his room, closing the door in shame. Unbelievable.

You hear him pick up the things and put them back in place, until he finally opens the door again. You’re right where he left you. “Get dressed. Your mom made you breakfast.”

“Wait, help me pick an outfit!” You’ve been here for less than a day and he’s already being annoying. Like always.

“Bro, I’m wearing a shirt that’s too small for me, I am not the one to ask for fashion help.”

“That’s your fault for getting swole!” You hear him yell while you go down the stairs. Maybe nothing's really changed.

You’re back at the kitchen. You look at the lonely plate at the table, it doesn’t look very appetizing. It’s not like it’s a bad meal, it’s an omelet and toast, but when you touch it it’s abnormally cold. Fuck you Gyuvin. He was probably supposed to wake up a while ago.

You take the plate and place it in the microwave, one minute should be fine. You open the fridge and snoop around to see if they still- yup, they still have a box of the triangle juice boxes you and Gyuvin always shared at school. Apple was your favorite. You’re sure he or his mom won’t mind you taking one while you wait for the food to heat up.

You take the little plastic straw attached to the juice box and stab it into the designated hole. Just as you close the fridge, you hear the shutter sound effect from a phone. You turn around and see Gyuvin already dressed up and smiling at his phone.

“Did you take a picture of me?” You ask. The microwave beeps, “That’s your food.”

“Check the group chat.” He says as he walks past you to the microwave. You take out your phone and rest your elbows on the counter when you open up the group chat. Gyuvin named it “Beach boys”, even when he himself was the only male.

You’re immediately met with a picture of you from your side, stabbing a hole into your apple juice box. You looked at yourself in the mirror this morning, but you only realize how tight the sleeves of your shirt look when you stare at the photo. “Damn…” You mutter

“Ow! Ow! Hot!” Gyuvin yelps as he walks beside you, plate in his hands. He sits down at the table while you scroll back up to check the other messages.

gyuv | 9:44 A.M.

guys Y/N got so swole its actually insane

sully | 9:44 A.M.

Well yeah shes an athlete what were u expecting

henny | 9:44 A.M.

did she post something on ig?

where is this coming from

minj | 9:44 A.M.

Good morning first of all

gyuv | 9:45 A.M.

yeah but ud expect her legs to get bigger or her thighs idk

tell me why this absolute gremlin has bigger biceps than me

i feel threatened

this feels like a bro code violation

henny | 9:45 A.M.

this feels more like you just being insecure

i checked her ig and theres nothing?

sully | 9:45 A.M.

Vin are you hallucinating be honest

minj | 9:45 A.M.

Why gremlin

If anything the gremlin is hanni

henny | 9:45 A.M.

literally so out of pocket

what compelled you to say that

gyuv | 9:46 A.M.

[1 attachment]

henny | 9:46 A.M.

Gyuvin is that ur fuckign house

is that han Y/N in your fucking house.

minj | 9:46 A.M.

What the hell

You | 9:46 A.M.

hi guys!

henny | 9:47 A.M.

Han Y/N are you in gyuvins fucking house

You | 9:47 A.M.

possibly

gyuv | 9:47 A.M.

[1 attachment]

guys im shaking theres a uleague third place winner in my kitchen

im so honored

sully | 9:47 A.M.

Omg she did get swole

Hiii Y/N

gyuv | 9:47 A.M.

RIGHT

IM SAYING LIKE

U DONT EVEM USE UR ARMS IN SOCCER

henny | 9:47 A.M.

Y/N when the FUCK did u get here

im gonna start vrying omg

You | 9:48 A.M.

i got here yesterday at night

i wanted to surprise u guys but ig gyuvin got too excited

pham hanni DO NOT CRY

hi sullyyy !!

henny | 9:48 A.M.

ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS

You | 9:48 A.M.

stop cursing so much omg

minj | 9:48 A.M.

This is actually crazy

How could you say nothing to us

I feel lowkey betrayed Han Y/N

You | 9:48 A.M.

IM SORRY???

so surprises are the worst thing in the world now huh

gyuvs mom was so much happier to see me than you guys fr

going back to seoul

it seems im not welcome

henny | 9:48 A.M.

Y/N actually stop playing rn

where do we meet

You | 9:49 A.M

me and gyuv will pick u guys up

were going to the soccer field

but i got money from the scholarship so we can buy stuff on the way

gyuv | 9:49 A.M.

guys just to be clear i had literally no idea she was here

she showed up at my house 20 mins ago

sully | 9:49 A.M.

Omg we can go to that antique shop thats close to our high school

henny | 9:50

literally how r u so calm abt this

minj | 9:50 A.M.

Maybe ur just abnormal

You cackle loudly at Minji's last text.

When you arrive at Yoona's house, she's already waiting for you two on her porch. She looks a little taller than when you last saw her. Her eyes light up when she sees you arrive.

“Y/N!” She runs up to you and hugs you so tightly your breath falls a little short. What's with everyone and suffocating you lately? “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, Sully!” You smile at her when you pull back, and the first thing she does is poke your arm. Her jaw drops in awe at the toughness of the muscle and it makes you laugh.

Gyuvin comes up behind you both with his arms open and a silly smirk, “Where my hug at?” It's quite awful. Yoona gags and sends him a distasteful look, which quickly shuts him down

You missed this. And it’s like this - full of banter and laughs - the whole way to Hanni’s house, the three of you take turns at making fun of each other, with the brief recurring tease at your job as an athlete.

Your friends like to brag about you being a college athlete, and a good one at that, but they certainly enjoyed sitting you up on a pedestal as a joke. They talked about you like you were the main star of the national team when in reality most people had little to no idea who you were even on campus, with the exception of the Yujin fans who tried using you to get close to her.

“Y/N, I promise you, when you make it on the national team, there’s gonna be a ton of fan accounts for you.” You’re in the middle of pushing Gyuvin away and blushing at his comment, about to contradict him when you hear a voice calling you.

“Han Y/N!” You don’t even realize you were already at Hanni’s house when you look towards the sound and two girls are waiting for you at the steps of a big house.

The first thing you notice is Hanni’s hair. She cut it, a fuckass (affectionately) bob that looked exactly like the one she wore the first time you ever met her.

The second thing you notice is that Minji is right beside her, already smiling at you. She stands up from the steps she and Hanni were sitting on and shakes off the dust from her pants. She wears a simple white graphic shirt and oversized blue jeans, beige puffer jacket hanging off her arms, and she looks so much taller than how she did when she was 16.

(That’s weird, shouldn’t she have stopped growing by then?)

The third thing you notice is your heartbeat suddenly racing when her eyes and yours meet for the first time in three years.

It beats at the same pace it did when the afternoon sun hit her face when you were 7. It beats at the same pace it did when you stared at her sitting by the window in middle school. It beats at the same pace it did when she sat beside you on the bus and fell asleep with her head on your shoulder.

Nothing has changed. Nothing at all.

It hits you like a bullet through your chest, but you try your best to ignore it as Hanni runs towards you.

“You asshole!” She yells with a smile on her face, and it contaminates your lips when she hugs you. She doesn’t hug you as tightly, but it’s longer than you expected. When she finally pulls away from you you touch the short strands of hair that cover her ears.

“What happened here?” You ask, watching in awe at the striking change.

“I kind of had an existential crisis last night.” She responds shyly while caressing her trimmed locks. “Minji helped me make it look better. It did not look good when I did it. They didn’t know either!” She points at the two behind you, both of them with their jaws hanging when you look back.

“Dude, you literally look seven again.” You say. You don’t mean it in a teasing way, she genuinely looks younger, but you reconsider telling her that when she hits you in the arm. Hanni widens her eyes at the unexpected roughness, “What the hell… you did get swole.”

“Can we stop talking about that?” The topic of your arms is starting to tire you, but it’s mostly embarrassing, so you groan at the mention.

You hear Minji laugh when Hanni goes up to the other two and they immediately start touching her new hair. It makes you laugh too, but you gasp a little when you feel a hand touch your shoulder.

“Hey.” She says, her god-damned pretty eyes look at you so sweetly, and her voice is so soft, and-

“Hey!” You say before thoughts about her take up your brain and you awkwardly freeze.

She smiles right before she hugs you, and it’s surprisingly warm, but you’re sure most of it comes from your own blood rushing everywhere inside you.

Everything about her is gentle, her eyes, her voice, her embrace. It’s a complete one-eighty in contrast to the tightness of everyone else who’s put their arms around you for the past two days.

“I missed you.” She says so delicately, almost quiet, even if she says it right next to your ear. And you’re about to melt, and she has no idea, so you hug her back, a little less soft than how she does, and say “I missed you too.”

It comes out a lot more calmly than you expect it, and you internally praise yourself for not making a fool out of yourself. It’s not like you want to pull away, but you might start sweating if you don’t.

You take your arms off her back and her warmth suddenly fades away. When she looks at your face again, there’s a small grin painting her lips, “Congrats on the win.” She pokes at your shoulder and you laugh at the gesture.

“It’s only third place. I want first.”

“Oh wow!” Her amused smile makes you dizzy, “Didn’t know you were so ambitious.”

“People change, I guess.” You giggle with her. But you haven’t really changed at all.

“Well, you better get first place, tiger.” She teases and you groan even louder at the nickname as you get away from her to join your friends. Maybe getting over Minji won’t be so hard.

Getting over Minji is going to be fucking impossible. Matter of fact, you're sure it’s never gonna happen. You’re going to be 45 and still think about her, and it’s going to slowly kill you.

You stare as she holds a little cow plush in her hands, inspecting it carefully. Her round eyes shine just like the glossy buttons of the doll. You think of a believable excuse before you take your phone out of your pocket and open the camera app.

You zoom in and despise how your fingers tremble before you snap a photo of the girl, unbeknownst to her.

Gyuvin comes up behind you, his voice is quiet yet it still startles you, “What’s the pic for?”

You look at him with widened eyes and bring your hand to your chest. “Just… memories.” Truth lies within your (not quite) excuse. “I want to look back on things like this when I go back to Seoul.”

The boy narrows his eyes at you and smirks, “So sappy.” He teases, so you zoom out the camera to 0.5 and take a bad close up of his face, “Hey!” He laughs.

You get away and put your phone back in your pocket to look at more of the items in the store. Many things catch your eye, small, shiny, weird, big, you could buy it all if you had the money to.

You walk around the shop, your eyes examine all the items on the old wooden tables and your fingers lightly brush on some of the more eye-catching trinkets. You stare at the little ceramic figurines of dogs and cats and other animals and mentally consider buying the little calico cat on the far left.

There are some cute keychains with little black and white designs as you pass by. You add them to your roster too. Hanni’s voice catches your attention from a few steps away.

“Y/N! What do you think of this cardigan?” She’s in the clothing section of the store, sporting a vintage cream colored wool cardigan with little brown stripes on the sides of the sleeves. It’s a little big on her, but oversized is trendy so it’s fine.

“It’s cute!” Your eyes glance towards some of the clothes behind her, “I like that one better though.” You point at the blue-gray checkered sweater behind her and she frowns in confusion when she looks at it, “Y/N, that’s so ugly.” Guess you don’t have an eye for fashion.

“Oh well…” You sigh and keep looking for more artifacts.

As you walk around, you accidentally bump the top of your head on some of the ornaments that hang on the ceiling, the sound of multiple wind chimes emerge a little before your quiet “Ow!”, which grabs the attention of Yoona and Gyuvin.

“You okay?” The girl asks in concern, but you can hear her hold back a laugh between her teeth. Gyuvin isn’t so subtle, his laughs resonating on the walls of the shop.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You assure Yoona as you rub your forehead with your eyes closed, turned away in embarrassment. When your eyes open again, they land on an item that makes you freeze a little.

A small, pale blue hair clip. It looked oddly similar, if not exactly the same as the one Minji wore on the first day you met. The clip she lost on that same day while the five of you swam in the ocean together.

You remember her being so upset when she realized it wasn’t there anymore, so much she cried silently on the way back to your respective houses. She was over the sadness of losing it in less than a week, but it stuck with you after Hanni told you in a whisper that it was the first time she ever saw Minji cry.

You immediately take the clip in your hands, the first item you’re certain you will buy. Actually, you buy it in that same instant. Thankfully, none of your friends seem to notice your quiet purchase, too engrossed in their own item search.

The five of you spend around 40 minutes in total in that damn shop, and you could kind of tell the owner was getting sick of Gyuvin’s constant questions on how he acquired the items. “They’re mostly donations or things I find on trips. I don’t know anything else.” He says.

In the end, you bought a few more things apart from the hair clip. You did end up buying the little calico cat figurine, a silver necklace with a spiral pendant, a pack of stamps with really cool designs, and a love letter.

There was a cardboard box sitting on a chair in one corner of the shop with a sign that said “Old Love Letters, ₩300 Each”, and not only is it something you’ve never seen anyone sell before, but it’s also cheap. How could you not buy a chance to snoop around in unknown people’s love lives?

You put your stuff in the little tote bag Yoona had bought for you. She said the design made her think of you (it had three monochrome fish painted over it).

Now you’re making your way towards the nearest soccer field. You used to play there all the time with Gyuvin, sometimes the other girls joined, or some of the other kids in the neighborhood.

The five of you walked with you right in the middle, like you were the center of a K-pop group. It definitely made you stand out to the locals of the neighborhoods you passed through, and some of them even recognized you and went as far as to congratulate you.

Did your parents tell the entire town about your rank in the league?

“It’s like I’m walking with a celebrity.” Hanni voices just as you get back from shaking hands with one of the old men of the neighborhood. As much as you enjoy the praise and congratulations, it’s a little embarrassing to acknowledge you’re gaining a lot more fame within this town. You imagine this is how famous soccer players feel everytime they go out in public.

“Microcelebrity.” You clarify, “Aren’t you an influencer?” You recall Hanni spamming the group chat one time in the first year of high school because one of her Instagram posts had gone viral. After a while of her videos getting more and more views, she started gaining a small following and could be considered a daily-life influencer.

“Yeah, but most of my followers aren’t from here so I don’t get recognized everytime I go out.”

“To be fair, this is the first time this has happened to me. My parents probably told the whole town about this.”

“Oh, they sure did. Even my mom found out.” Minji states, to your surprise. Minji’s mother was well known for not liking any sports at all, and it’s not that she hated them, she just wasn’t interested. She didn’t even know who Messi or Ronaldo were.

“Wow… I knew they liked to gossip, but that’s… crazy.” You scratch your nape shyly. Your parents are known for finding out everything, but you didn’t know they also told everything they knew.

“She didn’t really know what anything meant but she was very happy for you.” She says with a smile.

Oh! There’s a strange giddy feeling that shows up as a smile on your face you can’t hold back. You’re not really sure what to say, but you don’t even have to worry about it, because before you realize you’re already at the field, and when the boys that are playing there take notice of your presence, all you can hear is screams.

Sounds of “Y/N Noona!”, “No way it’s Y/N!”, “You’re back?!” get closer as the match pauses and they start running towards you. Most of them are your high school classmates, some are your younger neighbors or underclassmen you played with during recess.

You get closer and they bombard you with hugs and questions, with countless reminders of how much they missed you. One of them complains about you not answering his texts, and another boy defends you by excusing your forgetfulness on being busy.

“Okay, okay. I’ll make it up to you with a match, okay?”

You end up playing for two hours straight, the first half with your friends as a team, but after a while it seemed like the only one with energy left was you. Not even Gyuvin could keep up your pace.

“No wonder she’s an athlete.” Hanni says, fanning herself under the shadow of a tree that trespassed the field enclosure. Your friends were all sitting down on the ground, watching attentively at the match you played against the boys while chatting.

It was 5v1 and you were winning 4-2.

Minji watched carefully at the way you carried yourself on the field, so graceful and yet not passive at all, a different perspective compared to how you usually are.

There's a little bit of sweat that glistens on your forehead, and after playing for such a long time you only now start to look slightly tired. “I pray everyday she makes it to the national team and gets rich.” Gyuvin says.

“Same.” Hanni answers, laying down on a blanket over the warm grass and resting her head on her bag and it makes Yoona laugh when she grumbles at the discomfort of feeling all the crystals she bought on the back of her head.

The boys score another goal at you, so you decide to get serious and start playing like you would at a normal university match. Minji stares when you run faster and slide through the opponents so easily. She kind of wonders if she could calculate your speed mentally.

Field length = 55 meters, Penalty area length = 9 meters

You were around 9.2 meters from the halfway line and traveled around 18 meters in a straight line, Minji counts 4 seconds.

18/4 = 5 m/s, 1 m/s = 3.6 km/h, 5 * 3.6 = 18 km/h

Han Y/N’s speed in that one moment was 18 km/h.

The average maximum sprint speed of La Liga athletes was 30 km/h, according to an NLM article (don’t ask Minji how she knows that; she isn’t even studying medicine).

Suddenly Minji feels the need to see you play an actual serious match.

“I don’t think you need to pray.” She says with a smirk, standing up from the ground and wiping away the bristles of grass stuck to her jeans. “She has it in the bag.”

The others notice her taking out her wallet from her pocket, “Can you buy me a Fanta?” Gyuvin makes puppy eyes at Minji, even while knowing they never work on her, or anyone for that matter.

She gives him nothing but a wave and walks away, “She’s not getting you shit, dude.” Hanni kicks Gyuvin in the back with the tip of her foot and Yoona laughs at the scene.

The grocery store is not far away at all, only a block from the field, and Minji treads lightly with her mind made up on what to buy. A bag of chips and two glasses of apple juice, and maybe a strawberry lollipop for Hanni, NOT cherry, she notes.

The owner is an older lady who used to babysit Minji’s mom. She’s seen her countless times in her life so it’s easy for her to greet her brightly. “It’s been so long, Minji!” The woman greets her, her aged features morphing into a kind smile.

It’s true, it has been a long time. She doesn’t really come here that often anymore unless she’s taking a walk out of boredom or walking the neighbors dog when she’s out of town. She used to come here all the time when you all went to play soccer, but the matches got less and less frequent after you left, mostly because the only one who actually wanted to play was Gyuvin.

Minji makes her way to the drink section of the store and lights up when she sees the chilled glasses of apple juice right where she remembers them being. She was honestly surprised you hadn’t brought a water bottle with you when you left, and maybe just water would be healthier and hydrate you better, but she’d rather make you happier with your favorite drink.

(You would’ve been happy enough even if she just brought you water.)

The glass is cold when it reaches her hand, a nice contrast from the heat of the afternoon sun. She was starting to get a little hungry so maybe instead of chips she’d get a sandwich. Maybe she’ll get two.

She excuses herself in her mind, she’s not excluding her other friends! It’s just… this day is about you, of course her focus would be you. And maybe tomorrow. And maybe the whole time you’re here. She laughs at herself while walking up to the counter. She meant it when she told you she missed you.

“That would be ₩4,200 but I’ll give to you for ₩4,000 because I missed you.” The woman beams her a warm smile and Minji can’t help but return it. She hands her 4,200 won anyways and is out the door before the woman can complain. “Bye, Mrs. Do!”

Minji walks back with a smile on her face, the wind hits and blows her hair back. Some leaves and dust get blown her way too but she doesn’t have to squint her eyes because they already do that when she smiles.

The sun isn’t as bright and the rays don’t burn her skin anymore. She hears louds screams just as she’s getting closer to the field, and when she looks through the gaps of the metal enclosure she sees Gyuvin running up to hug you while the boys you were playing with fall to the ground in defeat.

She missed your win. Minji puckers up her bottom lip and sighs, shoulders shrugging helplessly.

You hadn’t even realized she had left until you see her enter the field again, so you send her a light smile she almost doesn’t catch. She looks back to the other girls and when her eyes meet Hanni laying on the grass she realizes she forgot her strawberry lollipop. Oh well.

She sits down next to Yoona and takes her sandwich out of her bag.

“What’d you buy?”

“Just stuff. Nothing for Gyuvin.”

Yoona laughs at the comment. “The apple juice is for Y/N, right?” Minji nods as she looks at you tap the boys on the back to cheer them up, “You can have the other one if you want.”

Minji was just about to open the packaging of her sandwich when she sees you and Gyuvin walk towards her. She quickly stops her actions and takes the other cold glass from the plastic bag, struggles a little to open the lid, and just as you take your last step she holds the cold apple juice to your face, or the closest to it her arm could reach.

You’re a little taken aback, but luckily you don’t blush at her act. Instead you just smile at her, mirroring Minji’s own kind smile and take the glass from her hand. “Thanks.” You say before you take a sip.

Both of your hearts feel full, yours at the flavor of apple that fills your tastebuds and calms the thirst of running for hours, and hers at the fact she made you even just a little happy with such a small action.

You gulp down probably half the glass down and end it with a “Ah~” that makes your friends laugh. “You still do that?” Hanni sits up and rests her hands behind her on the grass.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve done that since you were a kid.” Minji says and your eyebrows raise,”Really?” All your friends nod.

“I never noticed.”

Minji goes back to her sandwich as you and Gyuvin sit down in front of the other three. You’re tired now, but you don’t wanna lay on the grass because you say it makes you itch, so you try resting your body weight on Gyuvin, to which he adamantly pushes you away, “You’re heavy, Y/N!”

“What the hell, bro. I’m literally not?” You pout at him to try and get him to surrender but he just pushes you away harder every time you try to lay your back against him.

“Go lay on Minji or something, not me.” He says as he pushes you for the last time, you hear Hanni laugh.

You look at Minji and she’s already putting away the plastic bag she had on her lap. Oh, okay, yeah, no biggie. No problem at all.

You do a great impression of acting normal and move to sit next to her. “The shadow is better on this side anyways.” You fake whine at the boy as Minji grabs your shoulder and guides you to rest your back on top of her legs.

You turn your body so that you face her and hope she can’t tell your heart starts beating faster when you notice she’s already looking down at you. It’s a beautiful scene.

Minji’s face, the green leaves of the trees behind her and the sun peeking through the gaps, the wind blowing her hair a little to the side, the way her eyes smile at the same time she does. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You answer.

Everything about this is normal! You have to close your eyes so you believe it, and you start to after a few seconds. Everything about this is normal. It feels so normal and you love it.

It’s soothing. The wind caresses your face and you lose focus on the conversation your friends were having beside you.

And then Minji starts running her fingers through your hair and you lose focus on anything that’s not her.

Your heartbeat picks up for a few seconds and then it doesn’t. And then it’s all calm again. Your eyes are closed but your mind pictures Minji so vividly, smiling at you sweetly while her eyes. Her loving eyes.

God, you hope you’re not blushing, because you can already feel yourself getting warm all over. Thankfully, the gentle breeze is there to save you when you need it.

And then there’s a moment where everything, the breeze, Minji’s hands caressing you, and the sound of playful conversation, all merge at the perfect moment and you experience a calm that feels heavenly. Almost divine, and it sends you into instant slumber.

You don’t really remember every detail of what you dream of, you just remember it being about Minji, Seoul and snow. Either way, you know it had something to do with her confessing her feelings to you after you win nationals. You remember that you froze after she kissed you, then called your name after she saw you not move.

“Y/N! Y/N!” You hear your name being called out, then your body being shaked roughly. “Y/N!” You hear loudly before you wake yourself up.

“Sorry!” You don’t know what you’re apologizing for until your body jerks away and your forehead almost hits Minji’s. “Oh, sorry.”

“You fell asleep.” She states the obvious with a giggle.

“No shit, queen.” You hear Hanni laugh loudly at your response. “How long was I out for?”

“It’s 5:25.” Yoona says behind you, only then you realize they were already packing up and it was time to go. Where? You have no idea.

“Shit. Sorry guys.” You sit back up and stretch your muscles before you can stand properly.

“My legs fell asleep, you know?” Minji announces, and when you look back at her she has a teasing smirk on her face.

“Yeah, well, maybe blame Gyuv for that.” You answer sassily, but you can’t help but feel a little guilty.

Said male goes to grab the tote bag Yoona got you and the half finished apple juice you left behind and holds the bag it to your face while you’re still stretching, “Hurry up, girl. We gotta go to the beach before sunset.” He throws the bag at you and you catch it just in time.

“Careful! I have a cat in there!”

You arrive at the beach at exactly 6:00 P.M. and as soon as you get to the sand Gyuvin is already taking his shoes and shirt off. You look at everyone, confused on the plan you never actually listened to.

“We were going to swim?”

“Do you not want to?” Hanni asks.

“I don’t know…” You look at your friends with a sorry expression. You were already worn out from the whole match, and even after you slept a whole two hours on Minji’s lap, you still felt a little tired. “I’m kinda drained guys.”

“Bro… How could you?” Minji looks at you like she’s so betrayed and you laugh at her annoying little face that’s also so pretty and cute and annoying

“Bro… I’m sorry.” You play along. Calling the love of your life “bro” is crazy.

Okay, “love of your life” is an exaggeration (it’s literally not, in every sense of the word literally).

“I’ll watch your bags and take pics!” You tried bargaining, and they look at you like you’re crazy. “Guys, please, we can come swim tomorrow. The beach is not going anywhere considering we literally live beside it.”

Then Yoona gets real close to you and whispers, “You’ll pay for this.” then takes off her shoes.

“What the hell, man.”

Gyuvin and Yoona are already running at the sea and splashing each other, they don’t actually care about you not joining. Hanni hands you her bag with a strange force and you don’t know where it came from, “Take care of my babies.” She says.

“Your… babies?”

“My crystals.”

“Oh, right. I will.”

Minji walks up to you when Hanni walks away and hands you her jacket and another bag, this time plastic, “There’s one sandwich left in there. I told Gyubin not to eat it and I didn’t think he was going to listen but he did, surprisingly.” She tells you with a smile.

“Thanks. Very thoughtful of you man.” Alright, pack it up.

Minji sends you one last smile before she leaves and your heart beats when her eyes squint too. You watch her disappear into the waves and smile. You take out your phone and take a picture of your friends all swimming and playing in the water, their silhouettes clashing with the sun that was just about to set. It’s so pretty you make it your lock screen immediately.

You take out a blanket from Hanni’s bag, the same one she was laying on in the soccer field, and spread it on the ground to sit down. You take off your sneakers before they get filled with sand and take comfort in the warmth of the sand beneath you.

You stare at your friends for a bit, a beautiful picture presented just for you. You’re so happy to be back. Your stomach lets out a loud grumble before you even get to tear up. What a way to ruin the mood.

You take the bag Minji gave you and take out the sandwich. Ham, bacon, cheese, lettuce- oh, who cares. You take a bite out of it and it tastes like home. She definitely bought it from Mrs. Do.

It eases your hunger quite well. You hear the waves crash and Minji’s laugh from far away and, what a beautiful sound. What a beautiful person. You think of Minji and think of beautiful, not just from her appearance but her soul. What a beautiful soul.

You take your last bite and your stomach feels full, but you feel a little empty and can’t pinpoint what it is. You feel like you’re forgetting something. You reach for your new bag and search for whatever it seems you're forgetting.

Oh, right, the letter. Suddenly you feel excited.

The sun starts just in time. What a way to set the mood. You take out the white envelope and notice it still has some scent remaining. It kinda smells like something Minji used to wear, jasmine and liquorice. You didn’t smell it on her today, though.

You notice the envelope doesn’t have a sender or recipient name anywhere on it, nowhere at all. Maybe they didn’t plan to send it, or they changed the envelope at the shop. Eager to know more, you rip the envelope, careful not to damage the letter itself.

You take it out and take a deep breath to prepare yourself. You’re probably a little more excited than you should be, but whatever. You’re excited to intrude on a stranger's possibly failed love confession.

Except when you unfold the page, it’s not from a stranger.

You panic and fold the letter closed just as fast as you had opened it. You must have misread, right?

You open it again and the top says “Kim Minji, 23rd of June, 2021” like it’s a diary.

It must be another Kim Minji. There are hundreds of thousands in South Korea. It could be anyone. Anyone at all. So you keep reading in hopes it’s someone who’s not the girl swimming in the sea just a few meters away from you.

Dear Y/N,

It’s not a stranger. It’s Kim Minji. Your Kim Minji. You’re reading an old love letter from Kim Minji. You bought a love letter from Kim Minji for 300 won.

Wait, why is it addressed to you?

Now, you’re more confused than shocked. Now, you have to find out. You were going to put it down and not read it to not intrude and break your own heart, but now you have to find out why on Earth the first two words are Dear Y/N written in Kim Minji’s handwriting. So you keep reading.

Dear Y/N, I hope this finds you well. If you’re reading this, I gave this to you on the 24th or maybe even earlier on a strike of confidence. I hope you’re not keeping yourself up to read this at midnight. I wanted to tell you something I’ve been keeping for a long time before you leave for Seoul. Maybe it’s a selfish thing to do, and it won’t keep you from departing, but I think it would be worse to tell you this through text and I can’t bring myself to say it to your face.

I have feelings for you. Real romantic feelings. I like you a lot.

I like possibly everything about you and it’s killing me that I’m so scared and unable to tell you. I don’t even know what I’m so afraid of, really. Probably rejection, but even if you did like me back I still have to live without you for four years. My wish of you coming to visit me will probably depend on how harsh your rejection is, but I’d still like to see you back regardless.

When you first told us you got that scholarship for Korea University, I was so happy and proud of you. In a perfect world I would have kissed you and told you how happy I was for you and maybe even gone with you. But it’s not a perfect world and I just told you “Congratulations!” and you’re leaving tomorrow, without me.

I’m not one to take pictures, if anything that’s you, but right now I wish I had an album full of photos of you, of us, because I don’t know how I’ll make it without seeing you everyday. I think I won’t, actually. I hope you consider letting me borrow the photo album full of the countless pictures you take, even if they’re not of you they might fill the void you leave in my heart.

Anything from you will suffice, I think, but just your memory is not enough.

I kinda wish you could stay, but I also know you’re going to do your best over there and I hope you fulfill your dream of being a professional player. When you said you were going to choose to study mass communication I thought “that must mean she’s going to communicate with us a lot!” I hope it does. I hope you don’t miss us too much, but I do hope you miss me a little bit more.

I’ve never written a love letter before, if you could even call this that, so excuse me if this is not a good one, I’m sorry. I should probably state what I like most about you, but I don’t even know where to begin.

I love the way you’re driven to do your best even at the smallest of things. When we first met, you built us the best sand castle I had ever seen in my short life of seven years. The sandcastle was still standing when we went to visit it the next day.

You do your best at school, even when it gets hard for you, and I love that you’re not afraid to ask for help when you really need it. I kind of envy that if I’m honest. I hope you become the best student in your major.

I remember the time we babysat Ms.Yoon’s daughter and you were the only one who knew how to change her diapers and at what time to feed her. I also love how good you are with kids and sometimes it makes me think of very inappropriate thoughts of building a family together, but I won’t get into that because I don’t want to be weirder than I’m already being right now.

I love the way you always try your best to make me smile when I’m upset or stressed and even just the thought of you going out of your way to care is enough for my heart to melt. When I got sick in middle school while my mom was out of town you came to my house every day and made me chicken soup. I think that was the day I started thinking of you as more than just a friend.

I love the way you look when you put your hair up in a ponytail. I used to stare at you the entire time we watched you play during recess in middle school.

I love the way you’re clumsy and you’re never embarrassed about it. You always get up when you fall and you don’t pretend it doesn’t hurt when you scrape your knees. And I love the way you still try to smile when I’m patching up your wounds.

I love the way you always want the best for us and encourage us to be ambitious. I wouldn’t be on top of my class if it weren’t for you.

I love the way you like cats and they like you back. They always hiss at me unless you’re around. Maybe it’s a sign that we should be together all the time.

I love the way you say Ah~ when you finish drinking water after playing soccer.

I love (you) the way you love apple juice. I hope you feel the same. – Kim Minji

P.s. if you don’t i also understand and you’re free to do whatever you want with this letter.

You have no idea at what point you started to tear up, but you only realize when a tear falls from your eye into the paper and blurs the ink in the last “Minji”.

You don’t even process anything around you at that point. All you can think about is that Minji liked you 3 years ago and never told you and now you don’t even know if she still likes you.

No matter how much you think about it, you would’ve absolutely given her your photo album, if only the letter had actually gotten to you when it was supposed to.

“I saw you open the letter from over there, I came here to be nosy.” You can’t tell anything she says because you’re so entranced but you can tell it’s Minji’s voice. You freeze when she sits beside you.

“Is it any good?” She asks before realizing you’re completely paralyzed. “Hey, are you crying?” She touches your shoulder in concern, and it wakes you up a little bit, but the only thing you can do is hand her the letter.

She stares at you for a few seconds before she finally takes the page and mutters, “Oh.”

You don’t really want to look at her, and you don’t know what comes over you that makes you turn your head anyways. The red sun rays hit her face in a way that makes her tan skin glow. Her hair is damp and her shirt is stuck to her body but you don’t dare to look.

She’s clearly just as shocked as you are to see the object in her hands. And she still looks so beautiful. “Y/N, I-” You wipe your tears and sniff before she turns and see them in your eyes.

“Was this the one you bought?” You nod, and she looks back at it with her mouth hung low. “I… was wondering where this went. I thought I lost it.”

“You didn’t send it? At all?” Minji shakes her head. Wow, this is so great. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was supposed to give it to you before you left. I was hoping it would make you stay, but then I thought I was being too selfish and… just didn’t.” There’s clearly some regret still left in her face and the wind starts to blow. You hand her the jacket you put down next to your friends’ bags. “Thanks.” She says as she puts it on. You turn away to look at the sunset and gather your thoughts.

There’s no expression on your face for Minji to read, and for some reason she starts getting worried. “Y/N… I- It’s been three years, you don’t have to worry about-”

“Do you still?” You ask while looking away at the sea.

Minji stays quiet.

“Do you?”

She still keeps quiet. You turn to face her.

“Please tell me the truth, Minji.”

There’s something about how the sun makes your eyes glow and how you say her name that sabotages Minji at not giving in.

“Yes.” She speaks out with a sigh, “I do. I still do.”

You don’t know if your heart is beating faster or slower, but you feel it beat stronger. You turn away to get your bag, Minji just watches, her eyebrows slightly furrowed in distress and curiosity. The only thing she wants right now is to know how you feel.

You reach inside your bag for something, and Minji can’t really tell what it is when you take it out.

Finally, you extend the pale blue hair clip in your hand, “I have liked you since we were seven, Minji.” The girl looks at the clip then at you, her round eyes widened in disbelief.

“Are you serious?”

You hold your hand closer to her, urging her to take the gift before you sniff once again, “I saw this and thought of you. It looks like the one you had when we first met, that’s the day I started liking you. I haven’t stopped since.”

Minji takes the clip from your hands and feels herself tear up, says nothing, stares at it, then stares at you.

“We’ve known each other for thirteen years and I’ve loved you for thirteen of them.”

“I had no idea.”

“We had no idea.”

“We knew nothing about everything.” It’s now Minji’s turn to sniffle but still smiles as she wipes away the tears that threaten to fall from her eyes.

“How could you never say anything? Thirteen years, Y/N.” Minji complains while caressing the blue clip in her hands like it’s a precious stone. “Thirteen.”

“I got distracted with soccer.” Minji laughs with you and pushes you away by the shoulder. “Every goal I’ve ever made has been for you, though,”

“That’s so cheesy.” Minji giggles to herself as she pops the clip open and places it on her hair, it snaps shut with a ‘click’. “What do you think?” She says, turning to you. She tries to ignore your eyes and how sweetly they look at her.

“I think I love you more than I love apple juice.”

That’s the last thing you say before Minji smiles and gets shy, she looks away but her hand searches for yours and you help her by placing yours over hers. She fights back by taking it back and placing hers on top of yours. It makes you laugh.

The sound of your laugh takes her attention and now she stares directly at you, a smile on her own face. Her cheeks now take a reddish color, and her eyes shine like the reflection of the sunlight on the water. It feels like a deja vu.

You think you could stare at Minji’s face all day and not complain. You think maybe she thinks so too with how intensely she’s looking at you.

You raise your eyebrow when her eyes trail down from your eyes to your lips, and she seems to notice when your lips form a smirk. “What?” She giggles at herself, her already red cheeks turn an even darker shade.

“I saw that.”

“Weren’t we about to?”

“So straightforward, You should’ve been like that when sending that letter.”

“Oh my god, shut up.”

Is the last thing she says before she leans forward, she hesitates a little bit and her eyes go from your lips to your eyes, a shine of expectancy as if asking for permission, even when she already has it.

She’s about to close the gap when the both of you hear a chorus of gasps from the sea. It takes your attention. Hanni, Gyuvin and Yoona are all pushing each other giggling and gasping, hands on their mouths. You hear a faint “It’s finally happening.”, You can’t tell who it’s from though.

Minji is visibly annoyed, yells “Look away!” and it bounces in the waves. It’s actually insane how dumb she looks, red cheeks, furrowed eyebrows, pouty, perfect lips. It takes you everything to control yourself and even then you still can’t help grabbing her face gently and turning it towards you to finally, once and for all, kiss her.

You don’t really care if your friends actually turned away or not, because you can’t really tell with how glorious it feels to kiss Minji. It almost feels holy. You feel like you died and went to heaven in five minutes.

It’s a new feeling, a new experience, and it feels so familiar at the same time. Like flowing with the waves, like dancing with the wind, like drowning in apple juice, drowning in love.

Your lips dance like that for a while. At one point Minji’s hand goes up to your face and it’s such a warm feeling it makes you smile into the kiss. You start running out of breath and you don’t even notice. You could die happily if it meant dying with Minji’s lips on yours.

But then your stupid survival instincts kick in and it’s such a shame you have to pull away.

Both of your breaths are heavy and you burst out in laughter at the same time when your eyes meet. When your laughs die down your eyes fall on the pale blue clip that adorned Minji’s head. “You look so cute.”

“Says you.”

And then you hear cheering from the beach again. “Finally!” Hanni yells. You watch in astonishment, “Did she know?” You ask Minji while the both of you watch the three of your friends jump up and down in the water.

“I have no idea. I didn’t tell her. She might’ve noticed.” The cogs start to turn in your brains.

“They all did.” You and Minji say at the same time, then laugh at the same time. What a friendship of thirteen years does to you. And when you see Gyuvin and Hanni get up from the water and get closer to you, you realize you’re about to be ambushed.

“Oh, hell no.” You mumble right before you stand up and grab your bag. Minji just looks at you confused, “Come on, get up. They’re wet.” But Minji doesn’t seem to cooperate.

“Dude!” You grab her hand and pull her up as you run away as far as possible from your friends. You don’t even realize where you’re going, but laughing with Minji while running on the sand at sunset feels heavenly.

You look back and Minji struggles to keep up. Gyuvin and Hanni don’t look anywhere close and they probably decided to just let the both of you go, so you stop running.”

“We…” Minji rests her hands on her knees as she catches her breath, “We didn’t have to run that much. I’m not the soccer player here.”

You send her an apologetic smile, “Sorry…”

Minji now can stand up and breathe stably. She looks back and there’s no one behind. “So, where do we go now?”

“Home. You need to get changed or else you’re gonna get sick.” You walk towards her to touch her shirt, “It’s still damp.”

“Isn’t your house nearby?” She asks, “I live further away, and it’ll be night by the time we get to my house.”

You squint your eyes at her, “My clothes won’t fit on you, they barely fit on me.” You flex your bicep and the sleeve gets so tight it’s going to cut your blood flow if you keep it like that. “And I haven’t seen your mom yet.”

“And I want to have dinner with your parents.” She confesses. “My first official meeting with them as your girlfriend.” You never actually established that but it’s not like you’re going to refuse the offer.

“You’re actually so annoying, bro.”

“Says you, bro.”

“I’m your girlfriend, bro.”

“No shit, bro.” Minji holds her hand out for you to take it, and you gladly do. You start walking in silence for a little bit.

“Also, my mom won’t let us make out at my house.”

“Okay, that’s enough, bro.” You take your hand back and walk faster to get away from Minji. She immediately sprints to catch up and stick to you.

“I was kidding!” She tries to grab your hand but you refuse it and take it back. “Hey! Hold my hand!”

You look at her and wouldn’t you know, she’s making puppy eyes at you. It makes you give in, it never fails. “You’re so sticky.”

“You wanna know something?” She says as you start walking together again.

“What?”

“When you kissed me it tasted like apple juice.”

end.

🗒️ probably one of my favorite things i've written i giggled a lot and had fun writing this.. there's probably lots of mistakes here and there but i beg u pls ignore it bc im dizzy i can't look at words anymore. Minecraft coming soon! love u guys 🫂

#newjeans x reader #minji x reader #kim minji x reader #newjeans fic

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acid-ixx · 6 months ago

Note

IM ALMOST DONE

THIS IS GONNA BE GUT-WRENCHING

Taken from the prequel:

you can't deny the bitterness and the clenching of your teeth whenever you stumble upon a room and see your father and your younger brother watching a movie together.

— masterlist !

help ??!? u rlly are feeding the community with ur fanart 🩷 bruce and damian bonding together despite it only being months since he was introduced into the family literally ruins any sliver of hope and only furthers the longing (name) would have, and the fact that they're mere silhouettes in the art is so <33 erm ignore my suddenly disappearance for a day or two, i was feeling unwell 💔

otherwise, here's something for u because i appreciate everything you send me ! ft. post-kidnapped reader with yan! bruce and damian.

bruce and damian after kidnapping you would not take lightly the diary entries you have written, expressing jealousy and contempt towards your biological father and half-brother, about how it was alfred who had to take the time of his busy day to watch a movie with you instead. when you write about how you wished alfred was your father instead, bruce would not only feel his heart clenching but he'd also need the feel to prove himself better than the past, that he can and will be the only father you would ever need.

add damian to the mix, who had his own bouts of jealousy towards you, who wanted to bond with you in ways closer than you ever will with your other siblings, who felt that deep pit of guilt that he knows he could never crawl out of, with his addled tantrums...

— and you get yourself an overtly clingy dynamic with those two in the same room as you. now, instead of both of them dismissing your presence, the two would be fixated upon your every movement, your expressions, your actions. anything and everything would be documented and if you ate less or talked less, damian would always be the first to comment upon it, and your dad (as you should be calling bruce) would take damian's observations seriously. there's no escaping their grips.

no, you can't say no just now! damian wants to watch animal documentaries with you and that's the only thing keeping him from slicing someone's head off their body! what do you mean you don't want to spend time with them? bruce just needs to have his baby by his side and— no, just because you're over 18 doesn't mean your family would lessen their affection towards you! you're still so young and who knows what path of self-destruction you'd bring on yourself if you're left to your own whims.

the family is dysfunctional enough, so any concept of personal space is nonexistent. it makes everything worse if you'd have to deal with more than two people in the same room... and two very strong, capable, and deadly vigilantes who invites you to watch movies with them isn't very soothing to your veins but those hands that can crush your throats are your family and they make it obvious that you're the favorite, that despite the... rough past they inflicted on you, they'll always love you; so what's the point in denying them?

you'll be squashed between your father and your youngest brother on the couch, with fluffy blankets and your favorite show playing in the background. you express any ounce of discomfort and bruce would immediately ask you what's wrong, what do you need, are you hungry, perhaps? is the popcorn stale? or do you want another snack? he'll pause the movie and ask you with practiced precision, the furrow on his brows and analytical eyes are an immediate signal that all your answers are taken seriously. yet despite his intimidating tactics, despite the lack of light in the room casting a shadow on his face, he questions you with your head laid on his chest and a scarred hand trying to soothingly run through your hair.

meanwhile, damian wouldn't even hesitate resting his head on your shoulders, finding it useless to silently express his need for your physical affection. so he takes it in himself to wrap his entire body around your torso, hands locking you in a grip that provides scorching heat under the countless of blankets you're already wrapped in. sometimes, he doesn't even know that he occasionally nuzzles against your neck, and you have no way to push yourself away from him because the position you're in makes you sandwiched between your father's chest and damian's body. and you can't do anything about it but puff, asking your youngest if he could be so kind to at least leave you air to breath.

he'll merely comply, but then it's your legs that would be tangled against each other next, and it'd be soon you'll discover that it's meaningless trying to attempt to escape their affection.

because really, you have no way out of this, not when everyone suddenly insists that bonding time with any siblings or with bruce requires your presence above everybody else's.

#🍨... yael's talking #🧁... yael's misc.#series: again & again #a&a: fanart #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere batboys #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #male yandere #platonic yandere

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fishbonex · 1 month ago

Text

Sharp thoughts 1/2

Mel Medarda x fem!reader

Summary: Your friendship with Mel slowly begins to crumble.

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, suggestion of sexual acts.

Word Count: 1K

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

Mel was easily the best person you had ever met in your life. She was a spectacle in every way. Having her as your friend was comforting and opened many doors for you as an scientist and researcher.

Life seemed good for you, using a high-tech laboratory, with access to everything a scientist could want and thanks to Mel, contacts with several investors who might be interested in your work.

Unfortunately, Mel Medarda was too much for you.

You didn't notice when your heart started to swell when you thought about her, before you realized it, you could no longer think about her without letting out a sigh. Everything about her was... too much.

The delicate face, the graceful way she moves, the constant tinkling that is present due to her gold jewelry, the voice that seems to embrace you when she speaks to you.

You began to find yourself looking forward to her visits to your lab, or to going to see her in her luxurious quarters. This was why you worked so hard, because you loved your research, and so you had something interesting to show her. A reason to see her.

With that in mind, you stayed late in the lab, finishing a report on your latest research. You were going to show it to Mel and as a councilor, she was supposed to read it and debate whether or not to take your study to the next Council meeting.

Scanning quickly to make sure everything was okay, you stood up with a satisfied sigh. Mel's quarters weren't that far away.

You left the Academy building and walked quickly until you reached the large building where Mel's apartment was. Elora wouldn't be there at this time, and Mel had once said that you were welcome to visit her at any time. You entered the elevator and soon arrived in the lobby of the luxurious apartment. Feeling strange about the silence, you thought about calling her, but stopped when you thought you heard something. A sigh.

A moan.

You turned your head, towards where you knew Mel's suite was. You could have heard wrong, you were almost sure of that when you heard it again.

It was her voice. You were sure of it. Then she moaned again. A name this time. Jayce.

Jayce. Jayce Talis.

Your heart sank and your breath caught for a moment, until you realized you were invading her privacy. You turned and left, trying to do as little noise as possible.

You didn't see Mel for the next few days, not because you were trying to avoid her, but because you were busy working on something for Heimerdinger, and she was also working a lot, apparently.

That's why you were slightly startled when the door to your lab opened and the click of her heels was heard, followed by her melodious voice.

"Working so hard that you didn't have time to come see me?" she asked with a slight laugh in her voice. It irritated you.

"What do you mean?" you tried to focus on the project on your desk.

"I heard about the research you did, and that you gave it to Heimerdinger. Why didn't you bring it to me, like always?" she walked over to you and leaned against the desk.

"He was the first counselor I met when I finished, then." you lied, feeling the bitter taste in your mouth.

"Oh, so that's how it is." she let out a playful chuckle. "I thought we had an alliance."

Her presence felt too close, but you swallowed hard and lifted your face, meeting hers.

"Sorry, I just don't have much time to look for you." you sounded more irritated than you wanted.

Her relaxed expression faltered and she straightened her posture. "Hey, I'm just kidding." she brought one of her manicured hands to your forearm.

"Sorry." you shook your head and looked back at the notes on your desk. "I'm just... really annoyed with work."

"We all are. When you have some free time, why don't you come over to my place? I painted something new, I think you'll like it." she offered softly.

You nearly melted at her offer, the earlier irritation almost forgotten, “Sure, I’d love to.”

So that night you took the path you knew so well. The surprise this time wasn't as unpleasant as the last. Jayce was there again, lying down, his head in Mel's lap. She was comforting him about something. An intimate and tender moment. You turned around and left again.

Well, this time you were avoiding her. Leaving the lab at times when you knew she would visit you, avoiding the council building and staying away from her apartment. Elora even came to you, notifying you that Councilor Medarda wanted to see you, but you politely said that you were very busy.

Your irritation worsened when she appointed him as an advisor. It was at that moment that you knew you would never reach her level, no matter what you did.

Your favorite place to be away from the lab was the fountain in the park, with the purple leaves blowing in the wind. That's where you found yourself at the moment, absentmindedly playing with a pen in your hand, waiting for the time to pass.

"You told Elora you had too much work to take the time to see me." the velvety voice spoke from behind you, slightly irritated. "You don't seem very busy right now."

You turned your face to see her standing there, close to the bench where you were sitting.

"Counselor Medarda." you greeted politely. "Forgive me for the misunderstanding-"

"What joke is this?" she said more irritated than before, her serene face distorting into an angry expression. "What's gotten into you?"

"I have to work, Councilor, I'm afraid I'm not the richest woman in Piltover." you hinted. "I can't afford to lose my sponsorships."

"I work too, and at work I don't have many friends. That's why I value the few friendships I have." she walked up to you. "Like yours."

"Oh, you don't have any friends?" you scoffed. "And bed partners?"

"What?" she took a step back, her expression faltering.

"That's exactly what I witnessed when I went to you to deliver my research, counselor." you replied irritably. "But don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Mel was silent, standing there as you walked back to your lab.

#writers on tumblr #writing #arcane #arcane fandom #arcane fanfic #mel medarda #mel arcane #mel x reader #wlw #arcane netflix #mel medarda x reader

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ineffableigh · 1 year ago

Text

Wait what the hell is Aziraphale mouthing here. Lip-readers sound off!!

This is RIGHT before "The Metatron! I don't think he's as bad a fellow - well I think I might have misjudged him."

His line was: "I, um... [mouthing something]" THEN the above line.

This can't be nothing. Can it? "We need to get out"??? Not sure. EDIT: I agree with @maximumpenguinpuppy here, I think he's saying

"WE NEED HELP."

Further deep dive on the most painful conversation I've ever seen:

Azi makes the most INTENSE EYE CONTACT I'VE EVER SEEN during "I think I might have misjudged him."

"PLEASE HEAR WHAT I AM SAYING TO YOU RIGHT NOW."

After a few intercuts with the flashbacks we get to the really painful bit.

"He said that I could appoint you... to be an angel." His voice is so strained and high pitched even for him, here.

"Like the old times, only even NICER!"

The super nice old times where you couldn't be together at all, eh?

Crowley starts his confession and we get the "What the blazes is he doing?" face as he starts to realize Crowley is NOT picking up on any of this. Azi's breathing heavily here, revealing how very stressed the fuck out he is.

After this point is when things get really hard to interpret. Aziraphale sounds so genuine about "Come with me!" and "We can make a difference, I'll run it and you'll be my second in command." It feels like Crowley starting his very real confession broke through the charade of 'The Metatron knows something and we're in fucking danger'.

He blathers about Angels and Doing Good before breaking again, letting the "I need you!" slip. We get this HALF A SECOND look of the most profound sadness right before the "I don't think you understand what I'm offering you."

"You idiot. We could have been us."

Azi looks like he can't believe just how badly this went. This is right before he looks away.

OH NO NOW I'VE SEEN CROWLEY'S FACE RIGHT WHEN HE STARTS TO GO OVER FOR THE KISS AH MY FEELS

Azi is not hiding his emotions well, right before the grab:

Then of course we get the I Forgive You, which sounds like his most bitter one yet. A flash of anger and resentment, frustration, immediately followed by remorse and grief.

Having seen all that, my best guess now is:

Metatron made the (barely) veiled De Facto Partnership threats, implying he knows about the body swap and, implicitly, threatening Crowley with Holy Water, at least to some extent.

Aziraphale tries his damnedest to communicate to Crowley that Something is Fucking Wrong and they Have to Go to Heaven to Fix It.

Crowley, having been primed by the various chats with Nina and then the 2v1 chat with Nina and Maggie RIGHT before this, clearly timed by the Metatron, fully misses all of this and takes it all at face value.

Crowley starts to give his confession and Aziraphale realizes what he's trying to say, tries to adjust his Heaven Pitch to hinge on staying together as a team to fix things."

"You cannot leave this bookshop." "Nothing lasts forever." Azi has chosen the worst way to make another attempt at saying he has no choice but to leave the bookshop. I don't think this is about the Second Coming, given his reaction to the info later.

Everything deteriorates from there as Aziraphale tries again to imply something is Fucking Wrong by going back to the "Angels! Doing good!" shtick, but it's too late. It's always too late.

"I don't think you understand what I'm offering you." He doesn't but Azi is also communicating it very badly, likely because the Metatron is indeed watching.

Crowley thinks this is all real so he gives his No Nightingales line, etc etc. Aziraphale can tell there's no fixing this, gives up.

Crowley swoops in with The Kiss as a last ditch effort to get Azi to listen. Azi WAS listening, but cannot respond other than in anger and frustration that Crowley, in his view, refuses to listen to him again, has called him an idiot again. This happens multiple times throughout the show so there's history to fuel that assumption.

This is the precise outcome the Metatron was vying for, to split them up and emotionally/psychologically weaken them, to ensure there was no chance of a united front as there was for Armageddidn't.

My heart hurts, ow.

#aziraphale #crowley #the metatron #ineffable divorce #ineffable husbands #good omens meta

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kiyo-cant-write · 20 days ago

Note

Heyya, I have comeback with an idea. I'm sure you'll like it too. Still I will bring this guy up, but you can add your favorite .

So Yuu got sick, heavily sick. The boys sometimes comes to visit and take care of Yuu. i also found out that when someone got sick, they crave sweet and carbs. So imagine Yuu heavily sick, walking down the stair of their own dorm craving sweet. Just to get sweet jam and bread and they seemed to be a brink of passing out, unless they got their sweet jam bread.

As always I bring Silver, but you can add your own favorite character too if you want.

- 🎵 anon

silver & malleus with a sick!reader ✧･ﾟ

Hello anon! I am so sorry this took me so long! My health and uni work always takes precedence but I do love writing for this blog even if I lack the time to do so... ^^

I like writing for Diasomnia, they're silly xD Malleus is my favorite but I love them all sm. I added Lillia as a guest star only but was tempted to make him his own scenario... Maybe next time.

Thank you for requesting!!!

Note for everyone that I have a few requests left from earlier to get done before the close of the year and then everything else sent from here on will not be posted until 2025 January. Please keep this in mind, thank you for supporting me!

Summary: The reader gets taken care of by Silver/Malleus when sick.

TW/CW: mentions of illness/symptoms

Notes: pre-relationship, the reader is Ramshackle Prefect/Yuu, they/them pronouns for the reader, Malleus' "incident" is from canon

Guest Stars: Lilia Vanrouge. Grim

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Silver

Silver has been sick a few times when he was young.

However, he quickly built a strong immune system from having to eat Lilia's cooking and train as a child.

The last time Silver was especially sick was when he was 8 or 9.

Because of his experience with humanity, he knows a bit about treating illnesses. Still, he would rather ask someone to be sure.

Unsure of whether the school nurse would be busy or not, he selects his father (Lilia) to ask. Father is very knowledgeable.

Between Lilia's advice and his own knowledge, Silver is prepared enough and manages to be a help not a hindrance.

He does get into a small spat with Grim, though, for invading Grim's territory.

Silver wasn't sure what was happening, but the pot hadn't boiled over even with his nodding off. Still, he was surprised that the kitchen was still usable. At first, he had planned to tough it out himself when [Name] got sick but he now had the help of his father and Grim (though Grim had initially tried to burn Silver for entering his esteemed territory).

"Isn't it easier to work together?" Silver asked, directing his question to Grim who huffed despite agreeing with the white-haired boy.

"Myaa, I guess so."

Grim's tail flicked in annoyance with the situation. He had become even more irritable since finding that he was not allowed to be a glutton with the soup they were making. It wasn't for him and Grim seemed offended by that fact.

"Silver," Lilia said a moment later, "Are you sure I can't add things to this? I know of some hearty things sure to get [Name] back to good health."

Lilia held up something that Silver trusted less than he'd trust Sebek with a chainsaw. It was a vibrant purple and somehow also a neon green and smelled strange, reminding Silver of the strange things he had eaten as a child whenever he was sick. Lilia cared, surely, but those plants were... bitter and sometimes nauseating to even imagine.

He shook his head. That could not be fed to an already-sick [Name].

They would get sicker!

"No, you know how I feel about your soup. I just needed help chopping things since [Name] might be sick for a while."

Lilia shrugged.

"More for me later then~" he told Silver.

Silver did not ask about that comment.

"Are they going to be okay?" Grim asked, pawing Silver.

"Certainly," the boy assured, "They just seem to have something that will take some time and rest to recover from."

"If you say so..."

Silver wished he was better with words and could reassure Grim of [Name]'s safety. However, he wasn't sure what to say or how to explain it. He was focusing so intently on the soup and on staying awake that little else could enter his mind.

The room filled with the gentle aroma of the homemade soup as the recipe was completed. Silver turned off the burner.

"And I can't have some?" Grim asked, whining.

"You can have some of my veggies~" Lilia told him with a smirk.

"NO! THAT'S POISON!" Grim shouted, ducking behind Silver for protection from the feared veggies Lilia held.

"Surely, it isn't. I promise," Lilia chuckled darkly.

"Father, don't harass Grim," Silver chided the old fae, "And Grim, you can have some but most of it is for [Name] if we want them to recover well."

Grim nodded slowly.

"Fine..."

Silver ignored the continued bickering between his father and Grim as he ladled soup into a bowl. It was warm and filled with all kinds of [normal] vegetables. It should help them!

"YOU JUST WANNA SEE ME GAG ON THAT PLANT!"

"No, no, it's good for you."

"IS NOT!"

"You won't know unless you try it."

Silver placed the bowl onto a wooden tray that [Name] had in a drawer in the kitchen. This would be easy to carry up the stairs to [Name]'s room. Holding a bowl of hot soup might... hurt. It was rather hot, but hot food was good for someone who was sick.

He considered asking Grim to come with him but when he turned to head towards the bedroom, both Grim and his father were gone. Where had they gotten off to? Were they fighting? If they were fighting he might try and stop them...

But he needed to focus on [Name]'s health.

He knocked on the door.

"[Name]? Are you awake?" he asked but he only heard some coughing in return, "Alright, well I'm coming inside."

He pushed the door open and walked up to the bed. There sat [Name], coughing softly with a flushed face and sweaty forehead.

"Hey, Sil," they managed after the coughing subsided, "Is that for me?"

They looked curiously at the tray and he leaned forward to set it on their lap, balancing it so it wouldn't spill and then pulling away.

"I made you some soup to quicken your recovery," he told them.

[Name] looked at the bowl and then at Silver.

"Aww, thank you," they said, coughing a few times because of the strain on their vocal cords, "That's really sweet... of you."

"I hope that it helps, I don't like to see you so uncomfortable."

"You made this for me so it'll help me for sure," they told him with a smile, "I appreciate this."

[Name] tried not to think of the implications of being cared for by someone like this... It was so domestic.

"Ah, well, I'm glad."

Silver offered them a soft smile which they returned.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Malleus Draconia

Malleus thinks that humans are very fragile. Too much so.

He hates to think that an illness could take [Name] from him.

This fae is also unfamiliar with human illnesses and remedies.

He consults Lilia on the proper way to heal a human.

However, in his inexperience with human technology... some things are lost in translation and what Malleus ends up doing is far from what Lilia meant or what would have helped.

Malleus considers that he should have asked Silver.

[Name], sick as they are, may have to explain what they need to Malleus even if it takes them some energy to do so.

Once he has a clear explanation of what to do... he will do it.

Even if his crazy OP magic ability gets in the way somewhat.

Somehow, through this, Ramshackle is not destroyed.

Malleus wasn't sure if this was right. Looking at the kitchen around him, he feared he might have made things more difficult for [Name]. What would they think when they awoke? The kitchen was in utter disarray, there were pots in the sink and ingredients on the floor.

This was all because of that damned thing.

Truly, Malleus did not have any of the patience needed for these human contraptions. What in the world did they invent them for if they didn't work? He sighed to himself as he imagined how easy this might have been otherwise.

Still, he was a respectful fae and he had promised [Name] weeks before to follow one rule when at Ramshackle: no giant shows of fae magic. At first, he had been insulted, but [Name] (and Lilia) had pointed out that his magic was strong and he could destroy the dorm. It pained him to imagine making them sad, so he had agreed.

"I'd best contact Lilia..." Malleus said to himself, knowing he was the only person in the dorm besides the illness-ridden [Name], Grim, and the ghosts who seemed frightened of him still.

Malleus: Lilia.

Lilia: hmm? what's up, malleus? :3

Malleus: [Name] is sick. What should I do?

Lilia: You can try to make some soup for them.

Lilia: Soup helps when humans are sick.

Lilia: I used to make some fire ones for Silver when he was a boy.

Malleus: Fire? Flames?

Lilia: Human slang. It means "good."

Clicking the picture Lilia had sent of his hand-written list, Malleus noted that these were all what was deemed as "healthy." Was this all supposed to go into the soup? Malleus wasn't sure. Some of it seemed like it wouldn't be the best-tasting soup if it were combined with the other things on Lilia's list.

Pumpkin sardine strawberry liver soup?

As Malleus continued to look through the list, his phone shut the app he was using accidentally. It must have crashed. Fiddling with the phone, Malleus tried but was unsuccessful in bringing the list back up. His frustrations crushed the phone to bits.

Well, isn't that just great? Another one is dead. Always difficult creatures, cell phones.

But Malleus was not going to give up so easily. This illness would not take his Child of Man from him. No, it would not. Putting what remained of his phone into his pocket (he would bother Lilia and Silver about it later), he turned back to the messy kitchen (all his own fault).

"I will make soup or die trying," he told himself, "I promise."

A few minutes passed and an explosion rang through the house.

"Mal... Malleus?? What are you doing?" [Name] asked, standing in the kitchen doorway and coughing from a mixture of sickness and inhaling the smoke from the (minor, in comparison to last time) explosion.

"Making your wellness soup."

Malleus said this as though it was obvious.

"Whatever soup it is, it's probably burnt," they told him, coughing again, "Cooking from scratch is hard, it's why I just have the canned stuff like Grim's tuna."

"Canned..." Malleus echoed.

That might have been easier, at least.

"Yeah, it's microwaveable," [Name] said, walking into the burnt kitchen to find the canned soup from the cupboard.

"Oh, I'm not allowed to touch those things. Lilia's orders."

Malleus disliked remembering that time.

"...What?" [Name] responded head in a cabinet.

Did they hear him right?

"There was an incident," Malleus said as an explanation.

It was not a very good explanation.

[Name] chose to ignore it and sighed. Must be a fae thing.

Holding the can, they opened it quickly and dumped the contents into a bowl in one motion, trying not to cough too much as they did so. If Malleus was going to blow up Ramshackle, it was probably better that they cooked for themselves.

Malleus seemed to be pouting in the background.

"..."

"You tried your best, I appreciate it," they told him.

"I am sorry about your kitchen."

"It's fine, Grim did worse trying to make a casserole with the ghosts. Something about it only needing 3 seconds in the oven if it was a certain temperature?"

[Name] laughed.

If they were smiling like that... How could Malleus stay upset? Besides, there was more he could do to help the sick human, right? Malleus was not going to leave [Name]'s side. Not now, not yet.

"That does make sense though. If it was hot enough would that not quicken the speed?"

[Name] gave the fae prince a look.

"Malleus Draconia, don't make me make a rule about no dragons cooking in my kitchen..."

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

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miifu666 · 1 month ago

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you've seen me babble about Yan! Wukong... BUT THIS TIME ITS MACAQUE!! i know he has a big dick- I've always wanted to write abt Macaque, just never had the time to but now I do- hihihii thank you for those who asked for him ♡♡

⋆˙⟡ —CW: Yandere, ooc Macaque, noncon drugging, rough Macaque, insecurities mentioned, manipulative, art is oc x canon but drabble is canon x reader.

Yandere! Macaque

Imagining Yan! Macaque who knows which words to strike your insecurities, what sentences can fully make you dissociate in the middle of the day. To let him be the one who guides you while you're busy drowning in your self-doubt. His hands maneuvering itself to gently lay on your back, the other acting like a fence, making sure no one can bump into you. He coos about how unfortunate you are, poor little you. Yet, his smirk came forth as he looks back.

"Ohohoho! Look at how you're dressed, baby~ well … maybe this part is a little tight for you, don't you think?"

Macaque tasted the bitter end of the stick, while Wukong got to gloat about the honeyed drip he tasted. The dark simian makes sure you never see the good side of that sage, he'll inject every single downside of every trait you love about Wukong. Sometimes, he even uses your own words against you. Turning your friends and family against you for having the same traits as that monkey you adore. You think Wukong's empathetic? How does it feel to be fooled and scammed by your own friends? Wukong's ambitious? Oh but it eats you up doesn't it? You'll never be good enough for yourself. Macaque is observant, he lives in the shadow and he knows how to use your own surroundings to make you feel little.

"Well, im glad you've learned your lesson…i know its hard to accept that sometimes good things, aren't always good, sweetheart"

He remembers when Wukong was possessed by LBD, there was a sense of longing whenever he thought back to how he was also under her control. The images of you so pliant, harmless and a soft bundle of drug induced state inspires him to try and concoct his own drug. Maybe even steals one from a pharmaceutical, any drug will do. As long as it keeps you pliant and adorable, no horrible side effects, at least that's what he hoped for.

He'll study how much doses you need to ensure you're all hazy and high as a kite. Can't even reach the door to his dojo without stumbling and holding on. So cute, adorable, ugh what other words can he use? You're all helpless, who would make sure you dont stumble and hit your head now hmm? Don't worry, your dear boyfriend Macaque is here. Albeit seeing you like this strikes a sadistic side of him he didn't know of.

"Hey hey, where you going sweetheart? A drunken little thing like you shouldn't walk around without any help. What if some big bad guy takes advantage of you hmm? Poor thing"

Macaque knows what he's doing is wrong. Punishing you, keeping you hidden, heck he even silently drugged you without your knowledge just so he can fulfill his stupid fantasy. He's not delusional, there's guilt eating him up and the only way a traumatized simian can say sorry is through his actions and services. he's the best at handling things patiently with care, Macaque will take care of you in ways he knows best, and he's really good at it too.

"Ohoho what's this? You missed me this much? Hahaha so cute.. ill have a fun time ravishing you.. just lay down and let me do my thing"

Yan! Macaque who longs for someone to share the lonely nights with him, someone who he can cuddle with and talk about the stars and which stupid cat reactions you are. Its all he ever dreams of, all he longs for. Yan! Macaque understand every single insecurity you're going through, he knows how to handle it. He'll help you through it, He'll make sure you wont have lonely nights to cry yourself to sleep on. Maybe if you close your eyes hard enough, you can forget about the shackle on your leg and the bruising lovebites around your intimate areas.

"I know… its hard, its tough but life happens and.. i know my little sweetheart can pull through.. you always do. Thats what i love about you.. haha even got me a little too obsessed"

Macaque is a good mate whether you admit it or not, his observant eyes and omniscient six ears focused solely on you. The slight sniff from your nose can be a sign of an oncoming sickness, within no time he'll be ready with the blankets, warm tea, tissues and medicine! You might think he's heartless, sure he locks you up whenever he goes out, talks you down every time you feel confident enough to leave him and yeah he might have a need to see you helpless without him But! But! He's not neglectful, maybe there are times where you feel like he's infantilizing you. Yet he swears it's just an instinct, he always makes sure you get your proper meals, he even watches cooking shows just to make sure you eat your flavourful food! Not those salt and pepper tasteless things.

"I made you something~ ...what? It tastes funny? Hmmm must be the new recipe im trying, im sure you're just not used to it, hun"

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 9 months ago

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Toothache

How does one go "You're Too Sweet For Me" to "My Baby's Sweet As Can Be"?

Synopsis: Simon Riley finds himself stuck in a situation, growing feelings for his roommate who's so annoyingly caring, domestic, sweet and too good for him. What happens when he let's himself indulge in the sweetness rather than cage himself in the bitter life he's been told is the only one he's deserving of and the only life he's known?

Apologies to this mess of a lyricfic, I couldn't help it even though this was supposed to be a relationship analysis..

MEN WRITTEN BY ANA HUANG ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. Alright back to our original programmed schedule with Hozier. ALSO SURPRISE! THIS CONTAINS 3 HOZIER SONGS as an apology for not posting these past two weeks due to me enjoying holidays, reading, prom dress picking and wanting to stab myself because of life, there's the added bonus 👀

My CoD Masterlist

My Simon Riley x You Playlist

Also reader in this one had a lot of characterization, she's me fr, so AFAB?Reader, Fem!Reader, Short!Reader, Reader is VERY feminine with fashion, soft-girl-sunshine!Reader and Chubby?Reader. Y'all have no idea how hard it is to write without a personality and physical intimacy in romance, I tried but failed 😭

Warnings and Disclaimers: Mentions and details on sexual content ahead (is this considered smut? Idk anymore). Not detailed smut but vivid memories of sexual intercourse (especially the dialogue) with Simon. Again, this is a safe account for all ages because I'm not a MDNI acc, you are responsible for your own media consumption. DO NOT GO ON MY DMS, INBOX OR REPLY TO MY CONTENT TO TELL ME YOUR AGE. I don't need to know that and let's strive to not make each other uncomfortable. Mentions of questioning of religion or rather belief on afterlife??

Pink, bold and italic: Lyrics

Italic: recalling past events

Little snippet of an image of how I imagined he'd hold you, courtesy of the one and only @ave661

"It can't be said I'm an early bird, it's 10 o'clock before I say a word. Baby, I can never tell, how do you sleep so well?"

Simon Riley was never a man to live the life he was taught to in the military, it was out of habit for him to not leave his room until around noon. Then there was you, his roommate, he didn't exactly calculate how much it would affect his personal life to save money through rent by willingly letting someone within the same living space.

He'd find himself with not even a wink of sleep, hearing your footsteps through the thin walls, hearing the lock on the windows outside click open.

"You kept telling me to live right, to go to bed before the daylight. But then you wake up from the sunrise."

He'd always hear you, quite frankly it was like nagging on the constant.

"Simon you shouldn't do that, you'll hurt yourself"

"Simon please go get some rest"

"Simon.."

He'd swear he'd rip his own ears out every time his name falls from your lips from how sweet and chirpy it sounded and yet deafening silence would consume him whenever you aren't around.

"You don't gotta pretended, Baby, now and then. Don't you just wanna wake up dark as a lake? Smellin' lika bonfire, lost in the haze?"

Something about you makes it so tempting for Simon to give in, I mean it would be a one time thing, wouldn't it? So soft, so pliant, he set himself up for an addiction. It wasn't healthy, he knew this, he'd convince himself of the fact that he would end up hurting you.

Just too different, it repeated like a mantra in his head. He was bitter, brooding and didn't find any sense of pleasure in living. Why'd you think he has the job he chose? It's all he knew, till you skip your way into his life, giving him the sweetness he was deprived of.

"If you're drunk on life babe, I think it's great. But while in this world, I think I'll take my whiskey neat"

Drowning himself in alcohol, a trait Simon promised himself he wouldn't ever do when he was young, setting his glass down with a small thud from the wooden table. But what would the kid version of him know about life. He didn't have healthier options of coping with what seems to be his dilemma.

But then there you were, sweet little thing coming home at the late hour in that skimpy dress of yours. Revealing too much to the eyes of those who wish to have you for themselves with just one look. Where did you go that night?

"My coffee black in my bed at three, you're too sweet for me"

Desperately trying to keep himself awake and at bay from his thoughts of you. Drowning himself in now two cups of straight black coffee to help him focus.

It was odd, you got used to the scent, was strong with a lack of sweetness but it calmed you down knowing he was around.

How he'd corrupt you, he wanted to shatter that rose tinted glasses of yours to save you from himself because being with him would change you. Selfish but he doesn't want that, you were utter perfection..

Simon further delved into his feelings, what the fuck was wrong with him?

"I aim low. I aim true, and the ground's where I go. I work late where I'm free from the phone and the job gets done"

Grumbling, Simon walks back into the apartment in the middle of the night. You heard a thud, you come out of your bedroom, yawing from you incomplete sleep.

"Si..? Are you hurt? What happened?" You asked in a soft tone, careful not to agitate someone would could possibly be pissed off.

Simon stays silent, glaring at you as his eyes was only thing visible because of his balaclava. Your soft gaze intimidated him, because why would he feel that squeeze in his heart?

"But you worry some, I know but who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate. The rest of you like you're the TSA, I wish I could go along Babe, don't get me wrong..."

The only thing Simon heard was a sigh from you and nothing more, you walk up to him, each footstep feeling louder than that last.

Something Simon didn't expect you to do was wrap you arms around his waist, tiny thing you are that your head only goes up to his chest. Your body against his, basking in the warmth in contrast to the cold weather he had to deal with coming home.

"You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. If you can sit in a barrel maybe I'll wait, until that day.."

You took care of him that night, to his reluctance and stubbornness. Despite refusing, he had no choice, he wouldn't want a soft thing like you on his ear the whole night till he agrees. You were persuasive in your own irritating way.

Sitting on the edge of the tub of the warm bath he's in, washcloth in hand. Touch was so gentle, why was it so soft? Why's it so warm? "It's the water you fucking idiot" his subconscious screaming at him. In denial.

Why is his heart beating so fast..? He wants to stab it to stop the feeling..

"I'd rather take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You're too sweet for me"

Using both your hands this time around, one gently holding his chin with your fingers while the other wiping away at the eyeblack he had. Every scar on his face felt the graze of your finger.

The slow blinks, your eyes on his. Before any conscious thoughts consume Simon, he lifts his arms from the warm water and wraps them around you.

Your nightgown was now damp but you couldn't care less, now with the man you were pinning over, foreheads against the other.

"Si.." you softly whisper. That nickname will be the death of him, you'll be the death of him. He crashes his lips on yours, not wanting to let go till you both were panting. You were too fucking sweet, your lips, your skin, everything. He wanted a taste and he got it...

"My lover's got humor, she's the giggle at a funeral. Knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner"

Another sleepless night wasn't uncommon for someone like Simon.. however this aching feeling wasn't, he doesn't know where it's from or what it's about. Not until he heard you in the kitchen, letting out a giggle even though you knew better.

"If the Heavens ever did speak, She's the last true mouthpiece. Every Sunday's getting more bleak. A fresh poison each week "We were born sick"

That sweet fucking voice, like the angels speaking to him themselves. "Oh- I'm sorry Si, did I wake you up?" You asked, turning around to the sound of his footsteps.

That tiny nightdress of yours, a reminder of the night you spent together, that morning you slept in his bed.

Lashes beautifully displayed on the delicate skin of your under eyes. Soft noises while your chest was peacefully moving up and down with every breath.

"She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom". The only Heaven I'll be sent to, is when I'm alone with you I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well. A, Amen, Amen, Amen"

"Simon.. Ahh~" you moan out softly, your body writhing underneath him. It felt hot, sweaty despite the well ventilated room, so intimate from something that was supposed to be the farthest thing from domestic.

"Shhh, you can take it sunshine.. You don't want the neighbors to hear us, do you?" Simon whispers, callous hand covering your mouth with as little pressure possible, you whimper at his words.

Closing your eyes to lose yourself in the pleasure you've never felt before. Your body being worshiped with gentle hands and soft kisses that leave marks by the very same man who kept distancing himself from you, now he'd stop at nothing for your pleasure.

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life."

"Simon.. no more–" you whined. Scratching his back hard enough to leave marks without being aware, he'd always imagine what those pretty pink nails could do to him.

"Just one more, please sunshine.. you remember our safe word right?" Simon asks for you to nod softly, you didn't have energy to take anymore. "I told you I'll make you feel good, didn't I? So be a good girl for me and take it, hmm?"

Your eyes roll back at his praise, your legs shake with one after another wave of pleasure running through your body. This man was starved.. insatiable.. who would be able to resist such a request? Not you.

"If I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight to keep the Goddess on my side. She demands a sacrifice, drain the whole sea, get something shiny"

It took everything in Simon not to worship the ground you walked on that night, he wasn't trying very hard, was he? Because always.. at the end of the night, you're in his bed, his mind, his life.

Was it really a sin? To want something you don't deserve? Simon stayed up that whole night, not a wink of sleep while thinking of whether this arrangement should continue. Every bone and organ in his body telling him to be selfish, take what was something that wasn't his to take.

"Something meaty for the main course, that's a fine looking high horse. What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful that looks tasty, that looks plenty, this is hungry work"

Simon's gaze, never faltering on your sleeping figure that he refuses to go anywhere but his own arms. He tries to close his eye to compose himself, free himself from the emotions you emit from him.

His efforts were to no use, all he saw was the image of you, sweetly smiling, those doe eye staring right through his soul.

"No masters or kings when the ritual begins. There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin In the madness, in the soil of that sad earthly scene. Only then I am human, only then I am clean"

You were getting too close for your own good, Simon knew that, he'll be damned if he let's himself hurt you. So he does what any stupid man would do, avoid you like the plague. Did it mean nothing? Were you just some fling, never to be talked about again?

Fuck you Simon Riley, he made you feel loved in bed like no man ever has or ever will, completely ruining your chance of ever thinking of anything else and that was just a hook-up session? Maybe this one time you can let yourself be delusional, was there really something more? Only one way to find out.

"Oh, oh, Amen, Amen, Amen, Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life"

You caught him, fucking finally, after days of waiting and trying to get him at the perfect time. "Si.." you whispered softly, you didn't know where to start. He took a quick glance at you before looking back at what he was doing.

"Simon Riley, don't fucking ignore me. Not after everything that happened those nights" You said, it was stern but he needed to hear it. It made him stop, think about what had happened.

Before he could generate a response, "Why?" You asked. It was a vague question, why was he ignoring you? Why does he feel this way? Why does he love you yet refuse to act on it?

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life.."

"You don't deserve a man like me, you deserve one who is like you, optimistic, sweet, fucking beautiful and alive.. A man who's not damaged, scarred, has blood on his hands and haunted by his past. A man who's not afraid to show his love for you. A man who won't put his burdens on your shoulders and a man who will take care of you instead of the other way around. That's what you deserve and I can't give that"

Everything felt like it came to a stop, were you hearing that right?

"You have no idea how much you contradict yourself, Si. How are you so sure that you haven't given those things to me already? You might not be like me but "like me" isn't what I want.. I want you, every flaw, every beautiful scar. Not once before your silent treatment have you hurt me, it's frustrating yes, but you are worthy of that. Every struggle, frustration and mistake, every bit of your love is worth all of that. I want you to see that Si, your actual true worth rather than what some psychotic fucker decided to torture you with"

"Boys, workin' on empty. Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? I just think about my baby, I'm so full of love I could barely eat"

"Si?"

"Yes, Sunshine?"

"I love you" You whispered after smothering him in a plethora of kisses. Never has anything made Simon melt more in his life than his wife say that. Doesn't matter how long it's been, how much the both of you have been through or how much frustration the both of you were going through..

It will always stay the same, the feeling those three words give him, like the first time, every moment feels that way. Familiar, finally.. Home.

"There's nothing sweeter than my baby I'd never want once from the cherry tree. 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be, she give me toothaches just from kissin' me"

He always thought about how unfaithfulness was such a struggle between some people, he thought about how good he has it constantly, reflecting back on what he used to have to how now this is something he never thought he'd have or deserve.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"

When a man finds himself in the verge of embracing death's arms, what causes the struggle? What causes him to fight that pain, to keep on going? Not once has this crossed Ghost's mind.

No. He's not Ghost, he's Simon. Your Simon.

And you're expecting your Simon home, fuck everything else, he'll give the biggest "fuck you" to death itself and crawl home to you because he'll be damned and he'll experience everything he has in his life over and over again just to hold you again.

"Boys, when my baby found me I was three days on a drunken sin, I woke with her walls around me. Nothin' in her room but an empty crib and I was burnin' up a fever I didn't care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her. She never asked me once about the wrong I did."

It should matter, the amount of blood on his hands. Not once did you judge him for it, what the fuck was wrong with you? Giving a monster such as him a bath like he was some innocent stray kitten, although this time around it was far more messy. The dried blood caked underneath his finger nails.

Flashing him a tired smile while you wiped off the blood that made the water in the tub a hue of brownish-red. Taking your hand in his, his lips brushing against your knuckles. The way you looked at him was enough to make him cry.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"

"Fucking get up" Simon repeats to himself, "She needs you, she loves you" despite how many times he's convinced himself you didn't due to the voice of his father in his head, it felt like a knife twisting in his heart imagining how it would be for you without him.

How much you cried the night he came home a day later, you told him yourself, practically sobbing while clutching your aching chest and him with your other arm how you weren't ready for Price to show up at your doorsteps holding Simon's belongings.

He won't let that happen.. he can't...

"My babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. If the Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me"

Simon knew it, no one would ever love him like you do. No one would show him the same acceptance, devotion, care, concern and love. It wasn't healthy to be so attached dependently to someone in love.

He couldn't help it, it felt so right, everything with you did. Never a judgmental one, at least towards him. Always first to hold him, the first to ever take away the heavy guilt that weighed his heart and shoulders down after he'd done something he knows he'll go to hell for, if it's even real

"When I was kissing on my baby and she put her love down soft and sweet In the low lamplight I was free. Heaven and hell were words to me"

Every inch was kissed, not a part wasn't worshiped. "So fuckin' beautiful, so sweet. All for me, hmm?" Simon mumbled against your skin, suckling on the soft sweetness that he so claims. All hickeys, no bruises.

Fuck, he'd not just survive but thrive on just you. No other sustenance, your supple thighs he adores to cover in purple, your neck, your lips and your skin that he often compares to sugar syrup in his head.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her"

The question was, was it worth it to live an eternity of lifetimes filled with suffer to be with you in at least once? The only answer to ever graze Simon Riley's lips was the word "yes", the day that changes is the day that he'd be the biggest bull-shiter the world has ever known.

Simon opened the door to your shared home, "Daddy!" A loud squeal wakes him up from his dread of what he's seen on the field.

"How's my little sunshine been? 'Ave you been good to your momma while I was gone?" Simon asked, carrying the little girl in his arms.

"Yes! Momma said we'd go to the park tomorrow as a reward for me helping out!" Little one saying it so proudly, Simon couldn't help but smile, beaming with pride as his little girl grows up to be what he recognizes as a good person.

"Simon..? You're finally home, I missed you so much" You said, peeking out the laundry room. You walked out, quick to give him a peck on the lips.

"I love you Si.."

"I love you too Sunshine"

Also this is a very long fic.. I expect long feedback.. @connorsui 👀

Does this make sense? Idk anymore it's like almost midnight and I'm running on a few hours of sleep. GOD MY PROM DRESS LOOKS SO GOOD, I CAN'T WAIT.

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo

Trying out new dividers as well by @anitalenia

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menlove · 2 months ago

Note

hey can you please explain it to us? like how are we supposed to just understand? why would a large ethnic minority vote for an open racist who hates them? this is not intuitive

wasn't trying to imply you're just supposed to understand- sorry, it's just always a lil bit of a uh bitter inducing moment when this topic comes up bc it makes it really obvious that a lot of people just don't engage w the latine community

but basically, most latines are conservative christian. usually catholic (my family isn't catholic, though my grandmother was raised that way). a solid majority of them are one issue voters, usually on the issue of abortion because many catholics & conservative christians are one issue abortion voters.

there's also the immigration issue. a lot of these conservative latines do in fact care about better immigration reform, but a lot of them also have this attitude of "I did it legally, so why can't you?" so they don't even see themselves as a PART of the group being targeted. and if they do and they take issue with it, they tend to go "okay, but the republicans agree with me on everything else and I can't in good moral conscience vote for the other party who disagrees with everything I stand for as a moral christian"

and while many latines have voted blue over immigration in the past, harris leaned pretty heavily right on the immigration issue so it's like. to them. are you choosing the guy who agrees with you on everything but immigration, or the woman who disagrees with you on everything Including immigration?

and then you also have to get into the race of it all because race is beyond complicated in this case. non-black latines sit in a weird in between space with whiteness. to the right, we're white when we're Good. to the left, we're white when it's a Problem. whiteness is conditional. and this is the case for many demographics, but it's especially relevant here. when people sit on that edge of whiteness, they WILL throw each other and other minorities under the bus to earn the protection of whiteness. so you know. behave, vote red, show yourselves to be moral, legal citizens, and MAYBE you'll be granted the protection of being considered white in america. and we aren't. but that doesn't stop people from trying. even taking my dad as an example, I grew up with him talking about how much he hated white people. today, he's out here calling himself a proud white man who voted for trump. it's conditional. and people know whiteness is a protection. naturally, this leads to a lot of antiblackness in the community as well as just racism in general.

it just boils down to latines by and large being conservative christian/catholic and voting based on that rather than viewing themselves a minority race. and being way way more split on the immigration issue than people might imagine, because I've absolutely heard it parroted time and time again that "I got here legally, so can they"

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wishing-on-a-staranise · 10 months ago

Text

You, Me, Lonely.

(s.h. x reader)

from the river to the sea (educate yourself and help however you can)

Summary: you love Steve, Steve loves you. But maybe you both want different things from life.

Warnings/tags: reader menstruates (reader has uterus), abandonment issues, the ‘six nuggets’ talk, suggestive

Word count: 3.4k

masterlist

a/n: huge huge huge thanks to @procrastinationprincesses for helping me out with this fic and giving it an ending (ur amazing sanjana <3)

writing and posting something because i might have to go MIA for a lil bit (miss me while I'm gone will ya?)

fic is inspired by ‘You, Me, Lonely’ by FIZZ i absolutely love this song like its so close to my heart ughh what can i say I'm a little bitter about the six nuggets scene

also if you couldn't tell already I have major abandonment issues and an anxious avoidant attachment style. It will reflect in what i write soz :(

In the quiet of the night, you wish for this to last forever. That you'll have him forever.

When you came out of the shower you found him asleep on his side of the bed. His side– the one closer to the door. ‘so I can protect you from anyone who'll try to steal you from me’, he had justified it when you asked him why he was adamant on that side.

you had turned off the bedside lamp ten minutes ago, slipped under the duvet, as quietly as possible so as to not wake him up. on your side of his bed. your bed.

He always sleeps on his stomach, one hand under his pillow and the other extended a little towards yours. His body moves with steady and slow breaths, back rising and falling under the covers, head peeking out from under the rumpled up duvet. his cheeks are squished against the pillow cover. His hair is a mess from the lack of hair product, and still damp from the shower he took before you. There's a few strands of his brown hair sprawled across his forehead too. With your softest touch you brush them away from his eyes.

You wonder what he was dreaming. you hope it was something nice. He looks calm, at peace, and very, very pretty.

You look at him and you know you love him. You want to love him forever.

Love had never seemed like the type of thing you’ll get– like it wasn't meant for you. But then you met him. This boy. This boy who you never thought to be your type. You never thought you even had a type. But his boyish charm and stupid grin won you over.

Your heart doesn't skip beats around him anymore, and you’d think that that means he doesn’t have that same effect on you anymore but that would be wrong. You don’t think you’ve ever loved anyone as much as you do to him. You don’t look at him and get butterflies in your stomach, you look at him and… you’re sure. your heart is quiet and sure. You don't think you’ve ever been sure before.

You want to be sure forever.

He feels like the comfortable still of rain after a scorching hot summer, like the calm and cold breeze that cools you down. Like standing at the top of the mountain, looking at the clouds and valleys below, he feels like the crisp air that fills your lungs. Like the comfort meal your mom makes– the one you can never really recreate, the one that tastes the best when it comes from her.

You love him and you know. You know. You know he likes you, loves you even.

Steve Harrington loves you like a dream, and you're worried that one day he’ll wake up, look at you and realise that he deserves so much better. He’ll wake up and he’ll leave for work and he’ll bump into a pretty angel of a girl with a disposition as bright as his. And he’ll never return. people fall out of love. People fall out of love all the time.

You wish for him to love you forever.

How long is a forever anyway?

You wonder what it'll be like. When you're older, with wrinkles, white hair and weaker limbs.

It's like you see it.

You and him in a bed– just like now but older, wiser, more tired. His back turned to you. There'd be distance between you two, you’d want to move closer and hold him– but you wouldn't. You’d just stare at the back of his head, counting all the grey hairs you’d memorised like all the moles and wrinkles on his skin.

You’d notice his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest and you would have known him so long and so well that you'd just know that he wasn't actually asleep. you'd know why he wasn't asleep.

there'd be a pain in your chest. You would know what it is, why its there. You would gulp and try not to think about it.

“Do you always stare at me in my sleep?” his groggy voice pulls you out of your own head.

You blink, multiple times. Forever, right.

He softly smiles up at you. You blink away before moving to lay on your back, the sheets rustling with your movement. “sorry I woke you up”, you mumble an apology, staring at the ceiling, you fail to hide the shake in your voice.

“Y’kay?”

“Yeah.” the sheets beside you ruffle but you keep your eyes trained on the ceiling. it seems inevitable. You know, one day it'll happen and despite having expected it, it’ll be the greatest heartbreak of them all.

“Thinking ‘bout somethin’?” he sounds a bit more awake.

“When am I not?” you shake your head and laugh hoping he doesn't notice that it isn't real, thankful that the curtains didn't let in any moonlight and that you had turned off the lights.

“What is it?” but this is Steve, he doesn’t need to see you to know how you’re feeling.

“Nothing.”

“Were you lying about liking the pasta I made?”

“No, Steve it was good”, a real laugh slips out of you, and you finally look at him. He’s leaning on his elbow, the messy head of hair in his hand, looking down at you. You suddenly wish it wasn’t so dark so you could see the colour of his eyes, the moles and freckles on his skin.

“Then what?”

“Nothing.” your gaze moves back to the ceiling.

“Must be something if it's keeping you up”, you feel him shift closer to you. He smells of fresh shower, mint, shaving cream and washed laundry.

“No, I'm just…. not sleepy.”

“Yeah?”, he raises his eyebrows with a sly smirk, “Well, I know a way to make you sleepy”, he leans down– both arms caging you in, landing a kiss on your neck before trailing further up to your lips. and its lovely, so god damn lovely, you don't want it to stop but this hurts.

“Ste– mmph– Steve stop”, you turn your face away, because if he keeps going, you think you'll cry, palm pushing flat against his bare chest, “I’m– I'm not in the mood.”

“Okay, I'm sorry”, he moves back onto his one elbow. The silence gestates for a while, you can feel his eyes on you. The ticking of the clock is the only thing heard through the room before he softly says, “Hey, please tell me what's happening?”

“Nothing”, you shook your head, “I’m just tired.”

“You just said you're not sleepy.”

“J– just go back to sleep okay? sorry for waking you up”, you turn onto your side, face away from him.

He sidles up behind you after a second or two, warm breath across the back of your neck, you squeeze your eyes shut. “yeah, like that's gonna put me to sleep", he mutters behind you.

His arms snake around your waist, pulling you in closer, “C'mon, you know I wont be able to sleep after fighting”, burying his nose in your hair– he sighed.

“Did you just sniff my hair?”

“Yeah, I do all the time. smells s’good."

"You pervert", you both laugh lightly at that, your hand going for his around your waist, before your smiles fall and silence takes over once again.

You lick your drying lips, you forgot to put on lip balm again, “We’re not fighting, Steve.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You take in a deep breath in, fingers drawing patterns on the back of his hand, you breath out, “m’sorry.”

His arms squeeze tighter around you, he lets out a quick sigh before placing a kiss on your shoulder, “I’ll forgive you if you tell me what’s going on with you.”

“Steve…”, your voice trails off, you're not even sure what you were going to say.

“Is it— Is it your…. Uh, that time of the month?”

That makes you want to roll your eyes at him and smack his chest but you restrain yourself, you’re not sure if you want him to see your eyes right now anyway. Instead, you sigh, “I had it last week, Steve.”

You got it in this very same bed. Awoken by cramps in the middle of the night. and Steve, your lovely Steve had given you a hot water bag while he took off the sheets and put on fresh new ones and then gave you a soft massage that put you to sleep.

“right... yeah, sorry," he says all sheepish, “So what is it then? Did someone say somethin’ at work?”

“No.”

“Did I.. " he hesitated a little, "did I say something?”

“...no”, you curse yourself for pausing before saying it.

“I did, didn't I?”

“No, no. you–”

“honey, you should tell me if I ever say stupid shit– you should call me out immediately–”

“You didn't say anything stupid or whatever. I'm the one who's being stupid.”

his hold on you loosened, he shifted back to give you space to turn around, “What did I say? Hey, look at me,” you finally turn in his hold, facing him “what did I say?”

“We’d have the cutest little kids, won't we?”

“..what?” You stood infront of the kitchen sink. your hands stopped their scrubbing at the pot you were washing. You tilted your head towards him who had his head rested on your shoulder, his arms around your waist.

“Little Harringtons”, you could hear the smile on his lips.

“Harringtons?”

“Or maybe we get our names hyphenated. That works too, it’d be cute”, his hands hold your waist, his duty of drying the plates abandoned. “They’d have my fabulous hair, and your pretty, pretty eyes– cutest kids around the block”

“Our kids?” you repeated dumbly.

“Yeah, and six of ‘em. six little nuggets. They’ll make up half of a football team”, he giggled, warm air hitting the side of your face, “Doesn’t that sound lovely?” he smiled at you.

“...yeah. Yeah, it does.” you smiled back at him which only made him grin wider. His arms tighten around you again, and lips start a trail from behind your ears to down your neck.

You scoffed softly "You’re supposed to help me wash dishes you filthy animal."

“Oh, fine,” he gave you an over dramatic sigh, before his hands left your sides, skin feeling lonely as ever.

“No, it's fine. I’m almost done anyway", you went back to scrubbing at the bottom of the pot, "Just go and take a shower, you reek.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll go!” he groaned, playfully as a kid, before he leaned against the counter, looking at you with his ‘Harrington charm’. His voice is silky when he asks, “Will you join me?”

“Steve." you said it almost as a warning.

“I don’t hear a no.”

“Okay then, no.”

“Tomorrow morning…?”

“I have an early shift tomorrow, you horndog.”

“We'll make it work.”

“No.”

“Okay", he sighs, “come up quickly though, I wanna be the big spoon today”, pecking your cheek before leaving for the shower upstairs.

Looking at him, you brush the now mostly dry hair falling on his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. Your fingers lingered there, you smile, “nothing, Steve.” your thumb rubs back and forth on the apple of his cheeks. “You didn’t say anything. it's stupid.”

His hand reaches up to hold your fingers in place, he turns his head a little to kiss your knuckles, “okay, I didn't say anything” he kisses your knuckles again, gaze stuck to your face, “but could you tell me what it is you think you’re being stupid about?”

God, I love him, you think. “Don't worry about it”, your voice barely a whisper as you attempt to give him a smile. You move closer, planting a slow kiss on his lips which are so much softer than yours– he never forgets his chapstick.

And god, you needed this, your brain stops when you kiss him. thoughts quelled and its quiet again. After some time though, your throat starts to burn and your chest is on the verge of a sob. So, when you pull away, you fail to hide the stuttered breath that you take in.

Steve knew there was something to worry about, but when he hears your breath that almost sounds like a sob, he’s immediately on high alert. Before he can brush your hair out of your face to look at you, really look at you, you bury your face in his chest.

It takes him a second to realize that you’re crying and it breaks his heart because you’re trying to hide it.

“Baby..” he feels you curl in further, your face warm against his skin. He moves to pull you in closer, palm holding the back of your head. He just wanted to take away whatever it was that was bothering you. He tried to pull away to get a look at your face to help you calm down but you wouldn't let him. He settles on carding his fingers through your hair, rubbing circles on the little sliver of exposed skin between your t-shirt and shorts, hoping it gives you some sort of comfort.

"Honey", it is then that you finally let in a shaky breath. he feels the skin where you hid your face get wet maybe with tears, sweat, snot, he didn't care-- he just wanted to take all your pain away.

You both stay that way, and you're suprised by how much you sob, how hard you heave. You weren't sure how long you stayed that way, maybe minutes, maybe hours, however long. It feels like forever.

At this moment, encased in Steve's arms, breath hot against his skin, despite the nose plugged with snot, lashes clumped with tears, eyes squinted shut, you think this is comfortable. Yet it hurts. Because you'll have to pull away. It hurts so damn much because you know how this can go, you know it can hurt so, so much more. You know it will hurt.

You want this to last forever, however fucking long one of those is.

So, you hold on longer because, you’re selfish with your love for Steve. You're selfish because despite the heartache, you’ll have him, for as long as you can.

His hold on you gentle yet firm, as if afraid he'd break you. In your head, he already had. He tries to pull away again, to look at you but you can't. Your eyes still squinted close, willing it all to be a stupid dream. “Honey, I promise you whatever it is, you can tell me”, he says, voice soft as feather. Of course it's not a dream.

Your tongue betrays you, “Its…s–” stupid. Silly. It really doesn't feel stupid or silly, but god, you're so scared that you can't say it, you didn't want to say it because if you do it’ll come true, wont it?

“Whatever it is that you think is stupid," he assured you as if he could read your mind, "I still want to hear it because I know I won't think it's stupid."

suddenly it burns, and you need air. you sit up and try not to think about how ridiculously not pretty you probably look with snot running down your face, “What if- what if we- we end up hating each other?” you manage to say through hiccups.

“What?” he sits up as well, he says as if you had said the most ridiculous thing, “I'll never hate you, honey.”

For some reason, tears fill your eyes again at that, “Steve, you don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“No. Ste– people fall out of love, Steve- all the- all the time.” It terrifies him how convinced you sound of it.

“Do..... do you think you’ll fall out of love with me?”

The question startles you, its evident in your wide eyes, “Wha– what?”

“Do you think… you’ll fall out of love with me?" he repeats, "You think you’ll hate me?”

You shake your head, the tear that had been sitting on your lower lash finally slides down your already tear-stained cheek.

“Good." he wipes the wet trails left behind with his thumb, "then, why would I hate you?”

Your face twists into an expression that Steve wasn't sure what to describe it as. a deep frown on your lips, chin wobbly, brows scrunched up together, eyes red and tired yet nostrils flared. “‘Cause", you start but before you could continue another sob leaves you. you look down at your lap, trying to catch your breath. it takes you a minute before you begin again, "do you remember.... what you said about our kids?”

He nods, heart clenching at the way your voice breaks, “I don't think I can… do that”, he doesn't think he's ever heard you sound so broken. “I– I don't think if I– if I want that.”

He sits silent and you think this is it. maybe forevers aren't that long after all.

More tears fall, more sobs leave you, you don't bother to wipe them. What's it matter anyway? He hates you already. He's probably thinking of a way to let you down easily because he is kind like that “Honey.. I want a family..” you feel your heart ripping in two and you just can't look at him.

“And I want you to be a part of that family. I– I want you to be the person I built a family with, no matter the size." He wipes at both your cheeks again, making you look at him, "even if its just us.”

The relieved smile he expected from you isn't there, instead, you frown, the crease between your brows deepens. the part that hurt the most was that you push his hands away, “you’re saying that now, but what happens when years down the line, when we’re old, you– you end up resenting me. Y- you love me right now, I know. But how do you know you wont end up hating me like, ten years later?”

“I dont want to watch you grow old and hate me and then leave me, Steve. I’d rather end this now if we’re destined to just end up unhappy together.”

“We’re not. Okay? We’re not. I know I wont hate you, ever.” He reaches for your hands again. He kisses your fingers before continuing, “And I know that I want you, just you and whatever that– that that comes with. We could never have kids and I would never hate you for it.”

“You won't be happy", you say meekly, like he'd be mad at you for speaking what was on your mind to him, “You wont hate me but you wont be happy either”, you muttered, chin ducked into your chest.

“Honey”, he hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your head to make you look at him, to make you understand. “you’re what I need to be happy. You make me happy. And.. I’d hope you need me to be happy too”, a wet chuckle escapes you at that. A hint of a smile on your face despite the tears.

“You do, don’t you?” he clarified with a soft smile of himself.

You nod, "yeah", letting out a loud sniffle.

“Good. I know its scary but you’ve gotta put your trust in me. Trust me enough to believe in me when I say that you are what makes me happy. and I am happy."

He wipes away gently at your face, ridding it of the tear stains, “Sometimes, you’ve just gotta trust. I promise I’ll never break it.”

You sob again but it's lighter than before, you wrap your arms around his neck and feel the weight you felt get lifted, you sniffle into the crook of his neck, "thank you."

You feel his lips on your hairline, "Let's go back to sleep, yeah?"

"Yeah. You still wanna be the big spoon?"

"yeah, I think you need to be the little spoon today." he pulls you down with him, your back to his chest, kissing the skin behind your ear he finally settles in beside you.

You call out his name, he hums in response. "how long do you think a forever is?"

"I don't know, honey."

"Can we stay like this forever?"

"Um.. if you mean us staying forever then yes, definitely forever. But, if you meant me being the big spoon forever, baby, I'm not sure if I'll be able to commit to that."

You laugh, "I love you." you confess.

"I love you too."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x you #stranger things x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #Spotify

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llilyrose · 6 months ago

Text

Doodle for @the-bitter-ocean's In Cycles and Cessation au!!!!! (Alt. Version and writing under the cut!!)

{You pat the spot next to you.}

{They take it, albeit a bit hesitantly.}

"Mira? What's, um... What's this about?"

{What's this about, indeed...}

>"You like the stars, don't you?"

{They hum, simply.}

"... Yeah."

>"Well,"

{In the past you've struggled with sharing your thoughts, and the processes that lead to them. There's just -- there's SO MUCH going on in there!}

{At least you're good at remembering lines.}

>"I've noticed that you like to skygaze. A lot. And, you know, there's nothing wrong with that! But."

>"But you're not cloudgazing. Isabeau told me you're looking at the stars - the twinkly things in the sky?"

{He nods. It's permission.}

>"He also told me that, er, that thing you say sometimes - it roughly translates to stars in Vaugardian."

{He nods again, though it's more reserved. It's still permission. You haven't messed up yet. You continue.}

>"So I thought!! Um!!! Maybe you would want to skygaze with me?"

{Their smile is fond.}

"Mira. You didn't have to go out of your way..."

{No! You do!!! You absolutely do, because you know this means a lot to them, you know they're yearning, you're achingly familiar with their anxieties --}

{Change!! He won't even let you help him if you don't get anything out of it yourself!}

{... It feels like cheating. A bit selfish, to impose your problems on him, in a moment that's meant to be his. So you'll just... repeat your lines. Repeat it, Mira.}

>"The stars. Are they important to you?"

{Silence drags on. You hear the rustling of fabric. You're not sure if he's rubbing his arms or shifting to get a better view of the sky.}

{The lack of response urges you to bring a nail to your teeth. You make the beginnings of the motion, but Siffrin interrupts you before you get the chance.}

"Kind of. I think? I'm not ... entirely sure."

{It's the same thing they've always said.}

{The lack of change hurts you. The lack of change is comforting.}

{You...}

>"It's okay."

{A breeze brushes past you. It drowns out the gentle sounds of their breath.}

>"This kind of thing is . . . complicated. For me, too, if you can believe it."

{Hook. You hear him turning his head towards you, curiously.}

>"The change belief is home, for me. Growing up in a House of Change, of course, probably influenced a lot of my thinking, but."

>"As important as change is, as close as this ever-shifting belief sits to my heart, I have a complicated relationship with it."

>"The housemaidens... each of them has Changed, at least once. We have festivals to embrace it! And I'm happy for them! I'm so, so happy for them."

>"But I'm disappointed. In myself, I think? Because... Because I haven't changed. Or, I have changed, but I've never Changed, capital-C."

{Line. You hear a disgruntled "hrmpf" from beside you. You keep going.}

>"And nobody is pressuring me. I don't have to. But, I feel like- in this belief, this belief that revolves entirely around changing myself, changing the core of my being, into something completely different, completely new-"

>"I like me as I am, Siffrin."

>"But sometimes it feels like I'm missing out on key experiences in my culture."

>"So... yeah. It's complicated. These things are complicated. It's okay to be complicated."

>"Is it-- are the stars something like that, to you?"

{Sinker. You look back, and Siffrin is staring at you, sadly. He notices you looking, though, and shifts his gaze back towards the sky. The stars. They're thinking.}

"... Yeah."

{They pause. You wait. You'll give them the time.}

{You have plenty of it! Hahahahaha!!!!!!!}

{No. Positive. It's okay.}

"It's complicated for me, too."

"You like to say I'm easygoing. I think it's just the way I was raised."

"To say I follow my belief is more literal than anything."

"The Universe leads. We follow."

>"The Universe?"

{Wait for your cue.}

"The Universe. It's... everything. It's everything at once, and also everything beyond?"

"It's... the stars, in the sky, I think. It's the waves crashing onto a beach, the whistle of wind in your ears."

"It's not like everything is predetermined. We just... if something goes wrong, or you think you see a sign, you can throw your arms up and say 'the Universe willed it.' And you wouldn't be wrong."

"I... don't really like that idea? That some higher force makes the decisions for me. That I can't shape who I am on my own."

"I don't like the idea that-..."

{They snap their mouth closed. You don't miss the way their voice cracked.}

{It hurts. It hurts you every time. Every time you help them it just resets. You're not sure how many more times you can do this.}

{It's like all your change never mattered in the first place...!}

>"You don't have to share, if you don't want to!!!"

{You won't complete his quest if you do this. You won't get his ability if you do this. You won't be family if you do this. But you can't anymore. You can't.}

{But.}

"... It's okay. I just..."

{There's no backdoor anymore.}

{Your gut clenches as they speak the words you've toiled over for loops, now.}

"I don't like the idea that forgetting everything about my culture was for some greater purpose. I don't want that. I don't want to forget who I was, I don't want to forget who I am, I don't want to forget you! Any of you!"

{His voice is wet. Something pangs in your chest.}

"If forgetting is all I can do, if forgetting like this is the path set out for me, then..."

"What kind of person can't remember their home? Their childhood? What is a person without their memories?"

"is this what the Universe wanted from me? Is this all I'm for?"

{You've heard it all before.}

{And yet. And yet.}

>"Don't talk about yourself like that!"

{He flinches. You yelled! Why did you yell???}

>"You don't...! You don't deserve to treat yourself like that!"

{You can't stop yourself. The thoughts you bite back flow out of you like a river.}

>"'What kind of person am I without my memories?' You're Siffrin, that's who! With or without your memories, we love you as you are, the person you are!"

{You pause. He's scared of you, isn't he? You're being loud. Too loud. You're derailing the conversation.}

{Change is good. Change should be good. But it feels like every time you try to change your situation, it bites you back and turns tail!}

{You messed it up, you messed it up, you--}

{You feel a tug on your heart.}

"-is this all I'm for?"

{You smile, softly.}

>"Of course not, Siffrin."

{He tenses. You always notice it.}

>"You... don't have to deal with this alone. Why didn't you tell me? Or anyone?"

"It-"

{They pull their hat over their face.}

"It, um... didn't really matter."

{It still hurts you. That he didn't think he could tell you.}

>"We'll never forget you, Siffrin. And you'll never forget us, either. I'm sure of it."

>"Memories or not... you belong here. With us. We love you, you know that, right?"

{They shrink back, flustered. It hurts. You've seen it before. You've seen it.}

>"If you're so worried about your lack of memories, we'll just... make new ones!!! Together!!!"

>"You're not alone in this anymore. You're here, with us, and we have a future to look forward to, together."

{He's crying.}

{That look in their eyes. You know.}

{You know he knows he is loved.}

{You hate that you're getting tired of it.}

#in cycles and cessation #isat au #isat mirabelle #isat siffrin #op #my art #my writing #isat

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yzzart · 1 year ago

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okok but what about a fic with coriolanus based off of the unreleased version of national anthem, i want it all by lana del rey??? like she has the same ambitions and drive as him (a little coocoo) and they kind of just manipulate each other, but like they do really love each other yk?? food for thought 😙

"𝐁𝐲𝐞, 𝐛𝐲𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲!"

pairing: young!Coriolanus Snow x f!reader.

word count: 674!

summary: if you wanted one thing, Coriolanus would give it to you.

warnings: mention of manipulation, excerpts from "I want it all" by Lana Del Rey, Coriolanus needy and wrapped around reader's finger, reader sitting on Coriolanus' lap.

The word "frustration" was so mediocre in your tongue that, at times, it burned your with pure bitterness. — With such an immoral meaning, there is no meaning in your life.

And you didn't even have a drop of pleasure in mentioning it in secret, in front of and outside the harsh and venomous gazes of your classmates. — After all, you didn't want them to be able to associate your fascinating image with that word.

Even if, at times, that feeling of relief, tranquility in your life and especially in the financial sense, turned into a knot of frustration, disappointment with factors that didn't go your way. — Taken for days, completely, fragile and indiscreet. — You would never admit or mention it, not even with your dying breath.

However, there was one person among those neat and arrogant vipers who recognized your despair, observed your fragility with his deep and beautiful blue eyes; who paid attention to you, getting to know you. — Silently admiring your steps on clumsy days. — Watching how you manipulated those who had something that marked your interest.

You loved to seduce any look to achieve your greatest desires. — Mainly, the look so full of feelings, displeasures and sensitivities

Coriolanus understood your body language, and was surprised by it; in most times and situations, you didn't even need to say a word, not even release a sigh, because he already had in mind what could have happened. — And that he could use that to his advantage.

But the prodigal boy, so admired and recognized by the university and envied by the majority, had no capacity to involve and blackmail you; no, he couldn't. — And it was an ironic play, because Coriolanus would commit such an action with anyone. — Even if your situation, his life is at a moment of failure and, intensely, unpleasant.

Coriolanus, in his reason for wanting, wanting everything he wanted most in his life, or that could help him or even favor him, he would do anything. — To enjoy his power, to lift his mediocre life from misery and poverty, Coriolanus would do absolutely anything. — Just like you, even in different circumstances.

Like, maybe, he would do anything for you. — And maybe, you would do anything for him and for him. — However, the factors that could benefit you always come first.

"Do you think you'll kill for me one day?" — Your voice, lost, in pure sympathy and your hands passing through some white and curly locks that were stuck on his forehead; a sweet gesture for a slightly inappropriate moment.

Sitting between Coriolanus's thighs, you settled, beautifully, on his lap; as if it were his favorite seat. — The distress, which didn't bother your so much, from his rich-looking fabric pants touched your skin. — You were so relaxed, carefree.

And also wrapping the young boy Snow around your finger, with an invisible string before his eyes.

Coriolanus was stunned, his cheeks red and hot, swallowing hard and trying his best to remain conscious; he was funny so ridiculous. — The one worthy of the surname Snow, the one who had a promising future and drew confident and ambitious comedians, was nothing more than a trembling and needy soul.

He had the answer on the tip of his tongue, between his bright, reddish lips, but he hadn't committed to saying it. — Coriolanus felt his heart beating faster and faster, feeling like it would leave his chest at any moment and he wouldn't even have the ability to control it.

"Yes." — Coriolanus sighed, so breathless and marking his bluish irises and poisoned by attention on your lips and, soon, your eyes. — "Of course i will, my darling."

God, he wasn't lying; Coriolanus would never do such a merciless and deplorable thing against you. — Even in his last circumstances, in his worst second of life. — He felt so pathetic, sensitive but only you could make him feel that way.

Your lips curved into a gratifying smile, feeling satisfied and fortunate, and almost brushed against Coriolanus's. — You always got what you wanted and wanted most.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus #snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth

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untoldstar · 11 months ago

Text

male yandere psychologist x fem patient reader [introduction]

warnings: heavily implied that the reader is a patient at a psych ward, obsessive behaviors and tendencies, abuse of power, toxic environment, yandere themes, might not show in this part but for the future Ivan takes advantage of the readers vulnerable mental state.

There aren’t intense scenes in this at all (as I see it) BUT as for the coming parts of this OC it still has to do with a character who struggles with mental illness, an extremely toxic psychologist who abuses his position and being in a psyche ward so if you feel like any of that sounds triggering or there’s a possibility it could be triggering I would urge you not to read this or other parts of this OC.

pls be careful what you read guys and stay safe mwah🫶

Tick..

Ivan taps his foot impatiently and pushes up his sleeve for the millionth time to reveal his wristwatch.

2:59 PM

Just a few more seconds..

Tick..

3:00 PM

Ivan smiles, his stiff body finally relaxing and just like everyday a knock is heard on his office door and in walks the nurse pushing you forward like a criminal into his office. He only spares the nurse and nod and a polite smile before his attention is directed at you, focusing on your every move anticipating what you’ll do next. You huff and plop down in the chair in front of his desk rolling your eyes "Ah [name], how are we doing today?" he clasps his hands Infront of him and stares at you expectantly.

Just like everyday.

‘Why does he ask the same question every day? What could possibly change in the matter of a single day? They should've made these cheek-up's weekly instead. This is becoming such a pain.’

"Fine. Just like always." you answer curtly. He hums nodding "Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut to the chase today there’s something I must discuss with you.” You quirk a brow. You have to admit seeing the serious expression instead of the easy going one he usually has is a bit unnerving “I'm sure you already know that your..leave is to be expected soon." his lips twist in displeasure as if merely saying that has left a bitter taste in his mouth. You nod "Yes..what about that?" he sighs "Well, I'm afraid I've come to the decision that you'll have to stay a while longer, just to be safe." Your heart plummets. Sure you haven't been kissing Dr.Ivan's ass or being necessarily..nice to him but that shouldn’t have anything to do with your treatment. You know you've been getting better so what possible reason could have you stay here "Just to be safe? What is that supposed to mean?" you shoot daggers at him but he doesn't seem the least bit bothered by it "We’ve witnessed many patients show signs of improvement and seem like they’re ready to leave but there were also many instances where patients leave our facility and end up..falling into old patterns. Not that I expect that from you but I would like to guarantee your safety." You swallow the lump in your throat. Can they even do that? Is that even legal? "..How long?" a few beats of silence passes by while he blankly stares at you before answering "A month." Your shoulders drop down exasperatedly. Another month??

You feel frustration bubble up inside your chest. You feel hopeless as if you’re never getting out of here. You can’t take it you can’t take seeing the same hallways the same people this same fucking office everyday.

You don't say anything when you get up from your chair and start charging for the door "Our daily check up isn't quite done, my dear." His voice booms behind you "I don't fucking care." You spit back and go to reach for the door when his hands suddenly slam the door on either side of you, trapping you against it "Why are you always trying to leave me?" he whispers his shaky breath fanning against the side of your neck "..What are you talking about..Doc-" his hand clenches into a fist "Don't call me that!" You flinch trembling slightly "..I'm sorry I raised my voice, but I've told you countless times before you don't have to call me 'Doctor' my dear. Ivan is fine." You stay quite and he sighs "You won't even say my name.." he leans his head on your shoulder his body slumping almost exhausted from the interaction.

You hold your breath eyeing the door handle inches away from you "Why do you hate me so much?" his voice almost breaks "You roll your eyes at me, you barely say a few words in our daily sessions, You can't stand it when I go to visit you in your room.." he steps closer, his body now flush against your back "You throw a fit and almost walk out on me.." he moves his head to the side sniffing your hair and you hear him let out a groan “God I thought you’d be happy about staying here. All I want is for you to love me. Why won’t you love me? hm?” his arms slide down for the door to wrap around you squeezing tightly “Am I just the annoying psychologist your forced to talk to? Is that all I am to you?” he keeps talking almost in his own world too intoxicated by you, having you in his arms body flush against his your scent enveloping him “Damnit why won’t you-“ you take advantage of his vulnerability and decide to make a run for it, using the door to push back all of your body weight to at least have his arms off of you immediately taking a hold of the door handle and leaping out of his office, you run down the hall never looking back. You’re surprised he didn’t pull you back in maybe he was shocked maybe he wasn’t and he just..let you go. Whatever the case was you had to get as far away from him as possible.

Ivan’s left alone in his office panting, cheeks flushed and an obvious tent in his pants. He lets out a low chuckle looking far off into the hallway ‘Soon..instead of running away from me you’ll be running to me. I’ll make sure of it darling.’

#fem reader #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere blog #yandere x reader #obsessive yandere #yandere #yandere fanfiction #male yandere psychologist #patient reader #yandere Ivan #Ivan oc #yandere psychologist #toxic yandere #introductory fic #kinda short sorry lol #I #I think it’s legal?? but he’s doing it cuz he’s crazy soooo

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starvu · 5 days ago

Text

My Heart Won't Start Anymore || s. reid

where you were always, always there for spencer, but after what happened with maeve you couldn't handle it anymore, you felt betrayed

pairing: spencer reid x bau member!gn!reader

genre: fluff, angst/hurt

content warnings: mention of spencer's addiction, mention of his being shot in the knee, reader was once shot in the stomach, mentions of blood, fairly graphic description of maeve's death, maeve wasn't spencer's girlfriend, but they had feelings, that's for sure, bitter ending (inspired by "you're losing me" ts)

word count: 9,1k

a/n: i described the whole line from s2 to s8 here, i didn't even know i could write that much lol. and i haven't written that much yet, it was a bit of a weird concept and i couldn't put everything into words, but I wanted to write it so much (i suck at dialogue, sorry). i spent like nine hours today only in notes app and writing this, im kinda insane. i won't be posting any more work this year, so i hope your new year will be happy 😽

You would never have thought it would end like this. No, no... no. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

No.

You were always each other's support, comfort, comfort. When you joined the BAU, you were just a young girl, full of ambition and hope, joyful and smiling with sprinkles in your eyes, but also a lost girl. Lost in a new environment and new circumstances.

No need to mention that you were a people pleaser who only wanted to be noticed... right?

Of course, you were prepared for such a job, but damn, you didn't expect this. What they learned in training and at the academy was nothing compared to what you had been working on since day one. Theory was just a sliver of practice, yes, it was brutal, but in real work, the same theory seemed like a sugar-coated story with sprinkles. It didn't connect in any way.

But Spencer wanted to help you. He really, genuinely wanted to help you. He wasn't that much older, well, no, you were the same age, actually. He wasn't overly effusive or outgoing, but he wanted you to settle in, and you appreciated that. He was awkward, very awkward, more interested in facts than people, and not really good at social interactions, and your good attitude made him a little intimidated when he first saw you and you eagerly greeted him, introducing yourself.

He wasn't sure what you would find nice and was afraid of imposing, so he did little things like bring you fresh coffee from that not-so-great coffee machine, sometimes gave you little tips about team members, sometimes helped you when your casework was limited to sifting through tedious piles of files tied with string, the letters already shimmering before your eyes and blurring into black spots.

That's why when he went through his own hell, held captive by Tobias Hankel and drugged, you felt the need to help him. You couldn't explain it, but... no, you could actually explain it. You always wanted to help everyone and spread your smile. A smile that didn't fit the job, a smile that was the opposite of the brutality you saw in the job, and only that smile allowed you to keep your sanity.

Hey, do you know that you'll even lose your spark and the twinkle in your eyes?

You felt plain, simple, and human sympathy for him. His addiction problem was one of those ignored ones. You all swept it under the rug, almost like the whole team suddenly had blinkers on and lived in a conspiracy of silence, even if you didn't state it out loud. That just hadn't happened in the history of this team, even if you had noticed Spencer's daily highs. There was nothing wrong with the young genius's mind, after all. More or less.

You hadn't known him very long, but you knew it had little to do with his everyday behavior. Even if you only knew him for a few months before, he couldn't act like this and you noticed that everyone outside the team noticed his behavior as well, which Hotch could always justify because 'Dr. Reid isn't at his best right now'.

Funny how reputation and lack of complications from the people above were more important than Reid's well-being.

Funny how Reid's well-being has become more important to you than your own.

You acted somewhat on your own, you tried to help Spencer, even if he rejected help, he was elusive. He closed himself off, he practically dismissed his problem on his own. And maybe you were a little intrusive, yes, you were aware of it, but how else were you supposed to act in such a situation?

And surprisingly, you succeeded. He didn't look kindly on your actions, but he stopped dismissing you coldly. Your actions were happening behind the team's back, you didn't want to expose yourself as a newbie to something that wouldn't be approved of. If this whole situation is going on behind the backs of the people at the top, why couldn't you go behind the backs of the team?

You took care of him, at least as much as he allowed you. You didn't want to overdo it, but you tried. You didn't force him to do anything, but you still tried everything that could replace the dilaudid, you spent more time with him than was appropriate just to distract him from needing another dose. and when he stopped taking the drug, you were there to help him through the withdrawal symptoms, although withdrawal was the hardest. You were understanding and respected him despite everything, even if it was a difficult and overwhelming experience. You could say that it left a mark on you, however you wouldn't admit it. You just piled on the stress and nerves. It wasn't easy by any means, but you didn't have the heart to leave him.

You never had the heart to leave him.

Or at least that's what you thought.

Anyway, you were there for him.

He also felt a spark of sympathy for you when you cared so much for him, because you didn't let up or ignore the problem. He finally felt a little different, other than a drugged-up piece of trash. Someone really wanted to be with him, to suffer especially for him and at some point with him.

You knew that a spark of understanding was being born between you over the years. A spark of something warm, like friendship. Your friendship was close, there was something special and magical about it. He trusted you. He trusted you and opened up to you, he felt exposed to his emotions but he didn't feel bad about it. It wasn't often that he felt this way about anyone, you were important to him.

Sometimes Penelope joked that you were glued together, because wherever Spencer was, you were too, within a radius of a few meters and no further. If you think about it, the sweet, sweet technical analyst wasn't wrong at all, in fact, she was right. Likewise, Derek, who would laugh and sometimes tease you about your glued hips, you dismissed it as bullshit.

You were sitting in her darkened computer lab, your seat was a little lower, so you rested your head on the desk. The quiet hum of computers came from the computer lab. You didn't have much work, so you sat together and talked about things that helped you forget about the hardships and darkness of work for a while. You matched each other with your rather cheerful personalities. You were sipping from plastic cups through colorful straws some overly sweet tea that Penelope had brought earlier. You weren't even sure what kind of tea it was, some brewed herbs with a lavender aftertaste. In any case, it was tasty.

You laughed. "Pen no. There's no match here..."

She stared at you with clear disappointment and determination, she interrupted you suddenly. "Listen, it's in the stars. I beg you, can't you feel it?"

You shook your head slightly. "Penelope. I really love you and appreciate you, but this is a bunch of bullshit. What kind of match in the stars? Just because you, as a fetus, decided to be born on this day and not another, doesn't mean you have a fantastic love match with anyone." You took a sip of tea, but you were still staring at the blonde analyst.

"I'm not just talking about the stars here. It's the whole match, similar vibes, agreement and..." She continued to justify herself when Spencer suddenly entered the computer room with two warm coffees.

"Garcia, there's extra foam and vanilla syrup for you." He put the coffee on the desk. "Here." He looked at you. "They didn't have any almond milk, so I got lactose-free." He put down the second coffee and looked at you apologetically. "Is it okay?"

You just nodded slightly with a warm smile. "Yes, thank you."

Garcia watched your interaction, then took a sip of coffee, she finished her tea earlier. "It's still warm!" She interrupted enthusiastically, and Spencer nodded with her lips pressed into a line, a sign of confirmation.

After a moment he was gone from the computer room, leaving he made his awkward gesture waving at you with his hand, or rather sticking it out motionlessly, and you followed him with your eyes to the door.

On Penelope's face there was an incomprehensible, slightly too wide smile, she looked at you with excitement. "Oh God, it's look of love! Real look of love!"

You sighed. "No, it's not."

"Yes, it is." She continued to chatter happily, not straying from this topic even for a moment.

Penelope believed in the emotional tension between you, personality matching, and other such endearing things that you didn't quite believe in. You hated breaking the worldview of your favorite glitter and pink analyst.

When Spencer was shot in the knee and temporarily annihilated, you also tried to help him, although you were more likely to scold him then. What kind of brainless person wanted to ignore all doctor's orders just to fly with the rest of the team to the crime scenes. Second opinion? More like mindless, idiotic and stupid chatter. You wanted to hit him in the back of the head every time he tried to figure out how to avoid being grounded any longer, and even his doctorate couldn’t convince you to implement gentler measures. You didn't have the strength to fight him and you wanted to shoot him in the knee again, but it was out of concern, as strange as it might sound.

But despite his thoughtlessness, you were there for him then too.

You could say that you spent a lot of time together, often aimlessly, you could sit up all night and talk nonsense and in the end Spencer would let you drink coffee from his mug, and after difficult cases he was the one who tried to comfort you, your radiance and optimism could not be eternal and unwavering, and you baked his favorite cookies with brown sugar and sea salt. It was as if his worries suddenly disappeared, he spoke freely about whatever interested him without being suddenly silenced or dismissed, and strangest of all, even his aversion to germs was then a secondary matter.

You didn't see anything special about it, unlike anyone else around you. Yeah, you were a bit blinded by each other and sometimes the rest of the team felt like they were just getting in the way when they were around you. They felt like they were intruding on your little moments, your exchanges of glances and incomprehensible gestures.

They all felt that something happening, except you two.

And did it bother anyone? It was fine as it was.

Four years just flew by and you changed, not for the worse, change doesn't have to be bad... or something. You couldn't have peace. Day by day you felt more and more strange, not like usual, definitely not like usual, something was wrong, why were you suddenly stressed by his presence, and why did your nerves almost always get the better of you? You didn't show it, but this feeling started to annoy you. And you were a bit excluded, because there was one thought you didn't even consider, it didn't get into your tangle of thoughts, it just didn't. Or maybe it got into the center of your thoughts, and you cleverly avoided it with full awareness? Either way, when one day at work you were staring at him with your chin resting on your hand, probably looking at him from every possible and potential angle, a sudden realization finally hit you.

Oh.

oh.

It was a little different from friendship. Okay, maybe it was very different from friendship. You missed him faster than you thought, you almost felt anxious when he wasn't around and and you felt those nerves when he appeared next to you and you wanted his unwavering attention and you tried to justify it in every way, as friendship, friendly concern, natural nervous reaction towards loved ones, friendly... blah, blah, blah.

You felt attached to Spencer Reid and infatuated with him. To the same Specter who supported you from the beginning, he remembered what your favorite coffee was, he remembered the little details that made you you, showed you care in the same way you showed him care, he wasn't tired of you usually being full of energy and a little too emotional and were your precious friends. You couldn't say you expected it, but you couldn't say you didn't either.

You were in trouble.

Technically, you didn't have to tell him, but on the other hand you had a hard time keeping your mouth shut. You had to work up the courage to tell him. For God's sake, for half a year you'd felt like throwing up just thinking about that conversation. This could be good, or you could have ruined everything. You couldn't be sure he felt the same way, maybe he was just nice (and the fact that your stomach was tingling and your throat was dry and you just wanted to grab his stupid face and kiss it until you couldn't breathe was a side effect). Too nice. Being nice was never a bad thing, but it made you unable to fully read his intentions.

With shame in your mind, you admitted to yourself that you were observing him much more closely than usual, to investigate his behavior, no matter how stupid it seemed. This case really made an idiot out of you.

One night you were staring at the ceiling in your not too big bedroom and exchanging meaningless conversations, as he carefully ran his long fingers through your hair and occasionally glanced at you. There was a lamp on the nightstand, which gave off a rather shady, flickering light. You should have replaced that bulb. The rest of the light coming into the bedroom was the moonlight, carefully trying to get in through the window, thanks to the open curtains and blinds. The bright moonlight was more shy, though.

You finally, with heavy heart decided to talk to him about it.

This wasn't a good idea, trust me.

You tried to play it cool, even as you swallowed hard and your shaking hands were hidden only by the dim light of your bedroom.

"Umm... Spence." The usual certainty suddenly disappeared from your voice. “You know, there’s this thing.”

He immediately turned his head towards you, now in addition to his unwavering attention you had his gaze as well. "Did something serious happen?" He wasn't the best at talking about emotions, but, as befits a profiler, he read them well.

"Not really. I mean, yes, but no." You swallowed hard. "Depends."

He didn't want to rush you, force you to talk or annoy you. "Okay, no rush." Despite that, he felt a growing curiosity and a bit of stress. You rarely took that tone.

Suddenly you felt his hand no longer in your hair. Instead, he squeezed your hand gently in his, assuring you that everything was okay. The gesture, combined with your nerves, made you feel like you might as well cry. It was a gesture that you had considered nice and didn’t object to, but now it was confusing you even more.

It was now or never.

“I think I love you. No, it's not 'I think', I’m convince. Yeah, I'm convince."

Pretty nice, but you won't be the only one saying it.

He didn’t answer right away, only because he always had the feeling he’d ruin everything the moment he started talking about feelings. But he squeezed your hand tighter and didn’t take his eyes off you, his hazel, puppy eyes fixed on you. His voice lacked confidence, he hesitated for a moment, he asked quietly. "Can I?" You nodded slightly, almost imperceptibly.

After a moment, you felt his lips on yours. It was soft, tender and sweet. You had waited so long for this, and his absolute gentleness and feelings melted your heart without the slightest problem. You felt like you were the only people in the world, especially since everything around you was quiet and calm that night, practically intimate without the actual intimacy. Life just happened and you were somewhere in between, not in a rush. You always had to be rushing somewhere after all.

The conclusion from his actions was one. He felt the same way. You thanked all the gods and heavens for that. You didn't even want to think about the disaster that would happen if he didn't reciprocate your feelings and you had to keep working together, not to mention the tragic ending of your friendship. But at that moment, besides your still shaking hands, something else was hiding in the darkness - a smile on your face.

Maybe everything wasn't supposed to be so bad.

Oh sweet child, what a stupid impression.

It wasn't until you became a couple that you realized how little had changed in your relationship. You weren't sure if it was just too romantic before or too platonic now, but it was pretty much the same thing, with the added bonus of showing affection. Your relationship was built on all these little things and there was never a moment when your heart stopped feeling warm. You were really, really happy with the way things were.

For a short moment you regained some of the sparkle in your eyes, take advantage of it.

If Derek had talked about having your hips glued together before, it was hard to say what it could be called now. It wasn't that you were blabbing about your relationship left and right, in fact the fact that your relationship had even happened had stayed between you for a few weeks. You spent a few evenings off from work wondering what to do with the new label of this relationship. Telling Hotch was one option, and keeping it a secret and hiding it in every way possible was another. Both had their pros and cons, because in theory, a relationship between agents wasn't necessarily indicated, so it was more reasonable to admit it than to have him find out later on his own. Hiding it was also reasonable, considering the nature of your work, the dangerous nature, the possibility that someone might use it someday. Well, you didn't come up with a solution right away.

The fact that Spencer would bring you coffee every morning, or the exchange of small smiles, and the fact that you would sit on the edge of his desk while you talked wasn't anything out of the ordinary. It had happened even before there was anything like a relationship between you.

After a few weeks, you decided and went to Hotch to sort it out and not expose yourselves to any unpleasantness related to your new relationship - a relationship between two agents. Potential risk? Hard to say. But maybe it was better to explain it to him honestly, like adults. After all, it was inadvisable, but not forbidden either.

Spencer squeezed your hand in comfort and leaned towards you. "It'll be okay." The warmth of his hand helped a little and brought you back to earth.

"I take you for granted. And you better be right." You turned to face him for a moment. That sounded like one of your joking threats to Spencer. It wasn't the least bit funny to you at the time.

You entered Hotch's office first, with Spencer right behind you. He was on the phone, but quickly put it away. You took a breath. When his gaze landed on you, you still wanted to turn around, run away, hide and hide. But it was too late. You turned your head slightly towards Spencer. And then you wandered with your gaze wherever you could.

To your surprise, the conversation with Hotch was so... ordinary. You felt quite surprised by this turn of events. None of your theories had panned out. Besides, they had no chance of panning out, it was impossible. You loved to imagine a million versions of a single event in your head, and mostly the worst versions. It clashed with your optimism.

Or maybe that optimism was fading anyway.

You noticed out of the corner of your eye through the window of Hotch's office that Derek, with an expression of obvious defeat written on his face, was giving Penelope a twenty dollar bill as soon as they noticed you two. Penelope had just won a bet of sorts and you felt disbelief, but at the same time a smile was also trying to creep up on your lips. You squeezed Spencer's hand imperceptibly tighter. For a moment you were distracted and focused on Morgan and Garcia. You didn't bring it up, it was just a little stupidity between them, one of many

Your relationship wasn't a big obstacle as long as it didn't affect the team's work, your cooperation in the field, or involve showing romantic feelings at work. 'And no intimate contact!' He even emphasized that a few times, but in an even more professional way. Not that you had any plans and you were an adult, so you shouldn't have been nervous, yet your cheeks and nose suddenly became more rosy. It ended with a few signatures and sending you out of the office with nothing. Overall he said that as long as you are happy, it's good. He went back to talking on the phone and reporting, which were more important to him at the time than such problems with agents.

You and Spencer were there for each other.

Everything seemed pretty fine until the headache and sleep problems came. And after it another headache and another headache. Sleep problems were nothing new, they happened every once in a while, but then they became more frequent. You thought it was temporary, caused by stress and fatigue, maybe not drinking enough water and being slightly dehydrated, but it only got worse. Often and routinely. The medication didn't help much, and the tests, head and brain scans showed nothing.

Spencer was almost going crazy thinking that this was early schizophrenia, some stage of the disease and he would end up like his own mother, which was his biggest nightmare. The knowledge that in a dozen or so years he might not remember anything, only have flashes of what he knew, become useless. He wanted to use his full potential. He was supposed to be a genius, to come up with something that would help slow down the progression of his mother's disease, not a useless piece of crap whose life would slip through his fingers because of the cavities in his head.

It had nothing to do with schizophrenia at the end of the day, but it was problematic enough. They were migraines, strong and painful migraines. They didn't seem dangerous in a long run, were not comparable in terms of potential danger to anything related to the disorder he suspected, however they were difficult for Spencer and he was clearly suffering, the sight that broke your heart.

You didn't want to see him like this, you wanted to do everything to make him feel better. You weren't an expert in medicine, but you used the comforting methods you knew to make him feel at least a little better, a little more mundane than the medical ones. You stayed at his apartment a lot more often, slept there a lot more often, to be completely sure about his pain, to help him through sleepless nights, to provide him with some peace. At one point, you practically lived there. Despite your sincere efforts, compresses, warm teas, kisses on the head and careful massaging of his temples, it wasn't enough, maybe it just helped slightly. You really tried and he knew it too, sometimes he even thought and mentioned, that he didn't deserve you.

You wanted to find someone who knew about these kinds of conditions. You knew that Spencer had more contacts and connections because he was in the scientific community, so he could do more, he could take care of himself, but you wanted to do something too. You spent your nights just to find a doctor, a scientist, anyone. This situation wasn't good for you either. Almost every time you worried about Spencer, it took its toll on you. The nerves and helplessness became overwhelming. You yourself experienced headaches, but you just clenched your teeth. It was from exhaustion and you wouldn't admit it. Spencer thought you didn't have to do it, to sacrifice and worry so much, he always reminded you of that.

You were there for him, nothing new.

Wait, sweetheart.

You know you weren't the only one anymore? Really, no one told you?

You were about to give up, thinking that there was no point in searching any longer. More frustration than concern flowed through you. Mostly frustration with yourself. But you found it. You had it. You found a geneticist who could help. You felt enlightened and filled with hope. You hadn't felt this kind of hope in a long time.

There she was.

Dr. Maeve Donovan

You felt convinced, you had a feeling she would be the solution to Spencer's problems. He had no doubts when you suggested that Maeve look at the scans. You sent them by email, but you didn't go into why that was the right way for her. It wasn't your business after all. She had reviewed Spencer's MRI scans of brain, partly to help, partly out of pure scientific interest, he was a brilliant mind after all. Unlike other doctors, she saw the solution in these headaches and sleeping problems. After a few weeks of analysis, she wrote everything down, including recommendations and a prescription for some medications that you knew a little about because of how immersed you were in the whole topic of migraines, insomnia, and even paranoid schizophrenia, despite everything, Spencer knew more about these meds.

Months passed. I guess. You were losing count. Something was wrong and you knew it. Not with Spencer, he was slowly getting better and was in less and less pain, he didn't wake up at night as often and he wasn't in more pain during the day. You were relieved to see your beloved getting better, the meds were working, and he was regaining his nerdy drive and commitment to everything. It was a precious sight you had been waiting for.

So you should have been happy, it was wiser not to dig anything up. You didn't have a habit of behaving like that. Since Soencer was acting strange at least, you had to find out what was going on and why he wasn't telling you. He always trusted you, he told you everything, and if he didn't say something, he still mentioned the situation. Now he was avoiding anything that could be related to his behavior. He was nervous, as if stressed, sometimes he would suddenly disappear at Sundays and come back after a few minutes without a word. Later he was a bit concerned, but he tried to get back to reality. And later he would even sneak out during work, when you were with the team in the field. Sometimes you'd see notes and a pen left around his apartment, like he was writing letters. You never tried to read them, but you felt a pang in your heart.

Your intuition wasn't some great mechanism, but it wasn't stupid either. You saw him get even more worked up one afternoon. That was when Maeve told him she loved him. But you were so blissfully unaware that you were in that position. Spencer wasn't a cheater, that much was for sure. He froze for a moment after hearing those words, but he didn't answer her. He thought about what to do with this new awareness, he thought a lot.

When, during one of the cases, after Spencer had a quick conversation with Blake, she gave him a ride somewhere, you felt like something was happening completely behind your back. At least Alex already knew what was going on after she confronted him near the telephone booth. And so she promised him she wouldn't tell anyone, so you remained in unconsciousness. Unconsciousness that was no longer blissful.

And then you saw a book wrapped carefully in ribbon in Spencer's apartment, even if Spencer wasn't particularly artistic. You didn't look in there. You didn't know if it would calm down or if you'd find out something you didn't want to know. He didn't even noticed you'd noticed the book, he was behaving the same way as last time. A little nervous, but pretending to be normal. You were also a profiler, he couldn't hide it from you, even if you didn't make a habit of profiling your loved ones, it didn't agree with your morals. Well, you made plenty of exceptions for Spencer, so why should this be any different?

You loved this living room 'cause of the light. As you stood by the bookshelf, staring at the spines of old, yellowed books whose arrangement you already knew by heart, Spencer came up behind you, a slightly sheepish smile on his face. You knew that look on his face. You often cut his hair because he wasn't very comfortable with having a barber do it. He didn't like the feeling of a stranger messing with his hair, it wasn't pleasant in any way, even if most of society disagreed.

“Umm… I’m starting to think I look weird.” He began uncertainly, referring to his hair. “It’s a little too long, I think.”

You stared at him for a moment, your gaze darting between his face and his hair, you smiled. You had thought about proposing a haircut to him a few days ago, but in the end you didn't. The request seemed rather sudden. Finally, you reached out and touched his hair, and he leaned slightly into your touch. He found it a pleasant experience.

"I don't know, I like it. It's not too long yet." You admitted as you focused on his hair and kept running your fingers through it, trying to style it.

"You think so?"

You didn't know why he was so determined about it, or why he cared so much at that time. As if there were already too many strange things happening that you couldn't explain, another one was just happening.

"Yeah, it's fine. Trust me, Spence."

“Okay.” He leaned down and kissed your forehead. This kiss was warm and sincere, as always, but it had a slightly different tone than what he usually gave, more... apologizing? What the hell did he have to apologize for?

You didn't bring up the subject of hair again. You didn't know, but Alex had told him that his hair was fine the way it was and it wouldn't affect what Maeve thought. It would be funny if you were the one who cut his hair to meet her. And your eyes kept returning to the white cover and the ribbon - The narrative of John Smith

You thought you were stupid, that you were really just making up a story to yourself because you were too bored, that it was just your stupid overthinking and nothing was happening, you were drawing too many conclusions and adding a story to everything. You thought you were crazy, that something was wrong with you. You should have been happy that Spencer was no longer suffering and in pain, not making up events that you had no idea about.

What if you were right?

While at work one day that seemed as normal as any other, except for the constant doubts in the back of your mind, you saw Spencer briskly walk to Hotch's office without a word. He was there longer than you expected, which certainly didn't comfort you. And then you were all in the bullpen, around Spencer, whose voice was breaking.

"... He thinks he'll get away with this and he might." He stared at the floor and didn't look up. "I have a wealth of knowledge I should be applying to this case. Behavioral patterns of violent stalkers, tactical recovery strategies, victim survival odds. But right now I can't focus on anything for more than four seconds at a time, which makes me the dumbest person in the room." All eyes were fixed on him, it was an unexpected situation. "So... please help me. Help me find her."

Sometimes you felt small glances at you. You clenched your hand on the edge of the desk. You weren't even mad. You felt your stomach drop. Maeve, same Maeve. How could all this be happening so close to you and you were so stupid? You didn't say anything, just like everyone else. The difference was that the others were taken aback, surprised, but you were just numb.

After a moment, Hotch spoke up, even his tone of voice was a little different than usual. "We don't know if we have a case. So we'll be working on personal time. Does anybody want to leave?"

Silence.

You swallowed hard, but did nothing. You didn't leave, you stood there, leaning against the desk. It seemed impossible. This was all a bad dream. If nothing happened, then you weren't betrayed, right? Still, your heart ached. Your heart ached for another reason. You couldn't even feel angry because you were more concerned with his trembling, cracking voice. What the hell was wrong with you. What was even worse was that Spencer didn't have the courage to look at you. His gaze wandered, staring at the floor, his gaze meeting everything and everyone but you.

"Good. Let's get to work."

Soon, you were sitting at the same round table as always. All of their letters in front of you. The same written pages that you had seen in Spencer's apartment, but that you had never touched. You hadn't spoken to him since his confession and plea for help. You should have occupied yourself with the fact that this was about the life of an innocent woman, approached it professionally, but you couldn't. Looking at these letters, holding them in your hands and reading them, you pressed your lips into a line. You didn't share your thoughts or observations. In fact, you didn't have any, because all the letters merged into one, and you weren't able to think deeper.

Spencer was clearly taking it, looking worse than he had during any stressful case, worse than he had during any other stressful event. And you wanted to help him, or take him aside and talk to him. But he didn't seem to have a clear head to talk. What were you supposed to do anyway? Comfort him? You were the first loved one, it wasn't fair to you. Who said feelings were fair? Were you supposed to yell at him? In his condition, it wouldn't do any good anyway, and you'd only say too many words because of how you felt now.

He was angry, he didn't behave rationally, he stretched all possible theories. You had never seen Spencer like this, so emotional.

And you thought he was emotional when you were shot in the stomach during one of the cases five, maybe four years ago.

You remember his panic, your hot, scarlet blood on his hands, the pressure of his hand on your stomach where the bullet was and the tears in his eyes. And you smiled slightly at him, you don't know why, but you weren't even scared. You didn't feel any pain, because of the adrenaline in your body. You lost so much blood at the same time that you started to feel blissful, maybe that's why you weren't afraid. He acted like a hothead, and you thought there was no need to panic.

He sat in the hospital all night, right under the operating room, when you were being operated on. For several days he sat in the hospital almost constantly, slept on those uncomfortable chairs and showed you the greatest care. He was the first person you saw after waking up. The team and the nurses practically had to drag him away from the room and the hospital.

He brought you everything that could help you recover faster and smuggled in some snacks when you made pretty eyes, although according to the regulations he shouldn't do that. He explained that he wasn't doing it because it was your whim, but because after losing so much blood you should eat chocolate to normalize. You knew that wasn't his intention, but you appreciated the clever excuse.

It doesn't change the fact that you lost a part of yourself back then.

But his behavior back then was nothing like what he was now. A nervous wreck. He wanted to do everything in his power to save Maeve. How could you have known they were in touch? You thought that after the meds were prescribed, it was over. But no, she had sent him a letter praising his article on psychology. You tried to work on it, like everyone else, you really did, but you felt like shit. Maybe she was what he had always been looking for? They were interested in similar things, had similar topics and knowledge in different areas. Maybe you were just too stupid for the long term, didn't have that much to offer.

Weren't you his love by any chance?

Anyway, you didn't even talk. You didn't bring yourself to talk, you didn't look at him. The team's hard work had paid off, even if the atmosphere was tense and heavy. You were supposed to find Maeve, find out where Diane was holding her. Diane had already killed Bobby, Donovan's ex-fiancé. After her efforts, Garcia discovered where both women could be. Hotch absolutely forbade Spencer from showing up at the scene, but Spencer clearly protested. He wanted to pretend to Diane what he felt for Maeve - love.

After those words, you really felt like nothing.

You no longer showed him the same sweet support you always did, you couldn't, but by not giving up on your help you also made it clear that you wouldn't just abandon him. Despite the lack of contact between you, you devoted your nights to this matter, you slept worse than usual and drank more coffee. Don't kid yourself, you didn't really sleep because you were thinking about your relationship. Was it real or was it your imagination? You weren't working, you were consumed by thoughts and you were losing all of yourself in it.

So you were there for him, well, more for his cause, but for him.

Outskirts of town. Spencer entered the old, abandoned building first. None of you thought it was a good idea, but you didn't stop him. You felt the pain in this whole situation, and you were even more afraid of something happening to him. Well, it was because you loved him. You didn't know if he loved you the same anymore. You couldn't even think about 'no'. You were exhausted for the past few days.

You waited there impatiently, not knowing what was going on inside. At least you didn't see that fake kiss between Diane and Spencer. You knew it would be wiser to step in there, so that's what you did. They tried to keep you at a distance, to the side, so you wouldn't do anything stupid under the influence of emotions. Spencer tried to negotiate with Diane, who was holding a terrified Maeve, while with her other hand she was holding a gun to her own temple. You kept your cool, just like Spencer, but you could see his nervousness.

"He's the one thing you can never take from us." You heard Maeve's last, quiet words, and then a noise.

A bang, a screech in your ears, and a large, spreading stain of blood on the floor. Both women lying on the cold floor, their hair in dark blood, and a gun nearby. You looked at Spencer, who was rooted to the ground, with tears in his eyes. He quickly approached the lying, still warm Maeve. The bullet flew through the head of one and stopped in the head of the other. There was nothing left to save from the shot brain. Spencer's beloved was currently bleeding out in his arms, his hands were completely covered in sticky blood, and tears were running down his cheeks, staining her pale skin and face, from which the life had gone.

Everyone was in shock, no one made a move or said anything. Tears welled up in your own eyes. Partly because of how Spencer felt, how tragic his condition was, partly because you only just realized what was happening. He was crying hard over the body of another woman, whispering quiet words to her, hoping she would hear them, even though it was a foolish hope. He was too stunned to do anything at that point, so you walked up to them, her blood was also on your hands, you thought you could still save her yourself, even though there was no chance of that.

He helped her parents bury her. He was there until the end... in fact, he was there even longer. Everyone else had gone, and he was left at the grave. No, he wasn't there alone. He was there with you. You helped him in everything. You loved him and watched him bury and mourn his beloved woman. He hadn't slept in many nights, his eyes were red and his face was drawn and sunken, and he had probably lost weight. He didn't remember much of the ceremony, he was numb and had been on sedatives for several days.

Days passed, and attempts to contact Spencer were in vain, he wasn't at work, he didn't answer his phone. You went to the staircase of his apartment, to the tenement house where he lived. You'd sometimes pass JJ or Blake going up or down the same stairs. You knew the stairs by heart by now, and every time you went on the second floor up them it only got worse. Penelope left more baskets of food and necessary things by his door. Eventually they disappeared, he had to take them when no one was there, he had to survive somehow, not leaving the apartment.

You couldn't handle it, but you tried not to show it. Despite that, the rest seemed to notice your suffering. They certainly did, knowing how close you were. Suddenly you felt betrayed, rejected. What the fuck was that? You were always there for him, always, you loved him, he seemed to love you sincerely too. And in the end, he suffered because of the loss of another woman. How did she achieve this so quickly? You wanted to be understanding, but you didn't know how. You had the right to hate him, but you didn't do that either. You were left empty.

Without optimism, without a spark in the eyes, without what you started with.

You knocked on his door again, even though you had a feeling it wouldn't make much difference. Your voice was loud enough to be heard, but tired.

"You know Spencer, it's me again." You started uncertainly, having to think about every word so as not to say something stupid. It was a delicate situation. After a moment, you continued. "I just want to know how you're holding up." You leaned toward the dark, wooden door with a small plaque with the number 23.

You heard faint movements and rustling on the other side of the door, but no response. You sighed quietly. "Maybe you don't want to talk to anyone. Okay, I'm not forcing you. I think I look a little stupid talking to the door, though."

Suddenly you heard the sound of the lock turning in the door. The door opened slowly, as if he was wondering if he wanted to open it. Finally you saw him in the doorway, dressed in a thick sweater, deep in mourning. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair uncombed. The curtains in the apartment were drawn, and it was a general mess, which you could only see because of what you could see behind him, in the back of the apartment. "Hey." He was barely holding on.

You wanted to help him, to be there for him again, but you no longer felt entitled to do so. He stepped aside, wordlessly inviting you into the apartment. You immediately opened one of the windows, not much, just enough so that the fresh air would make him feel better. You repeated your previous question. You were standing close to him, but at a safe distance. "How are you feeling?" You asked in a soft voice with your typical concern.

"Not so well." He answered shortly, he didn't have the strength to talk.

You didn't push. Hell, you couldn't even talk to him. It was almost like you were standing there with a stranger, not with the man, you loved so much. The light you loved so much was gone from this room. It was almost completely dark. The air was thick with lose and indecision.

He walked over to you, more tears flowing from his eyes. Suddenly you were his support again. He hadn't really cried in days, he just didn't have the strength anymore. Seeing you made him realize everything he had done. He clung to you like you were his last lifeline, he clung to no one else but you. You heard his sobbing and some quiet words, you didn't even understand what they were, there were tears in your eyes too, but you didn't hug him like you usually did.

On the corner of the table, the same book was lying again, this time without the brown ribbon. You were lucky you didn't see the dedication inside. It would have destroyed you even more. Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone; we find it with another.

He cried on your shoulder, and you pressed your lips together to keep from falling apart. Why did he even feel entitled to this, why did he keep leaning on you? You felt like screaming. You really wanted to scold him, but it probably wasn't appropriate at the time.

Again you were there for him, it was always you at the end of the day.

The atmosphere at work was tense, heavy. Everyone seemed to be behaving normally, but it wasn't like usual. No one talked to you about the incident anymore, except maybe Penelope, who as always tried to talk to you, to make you feel a little relieved, brought you those herbal, sweet teas with syrups that you loved. She didn't delve into the subject, so as not to drag out your own pain, she skirted the subject all the time. Basically, everyone was tiptoeing around you, which irritated you. Damn, you didn't want any forced pity.

A few weeks passed, Spencer went back to work, but you didn't talk more than necessary and everyone noticed the changes between you. You became colder, distant. After all, your relationship wasn't supposed to affect the team's work. But was it even a relationship anymore?

You bit your nails, picked at the cuticles around your nails, scratched off the polish. You clenched your fists, dug your nails into your palms, leaving indentations in the shape of half moons on the palms of your hands. Every morning you looked at him with a storm in your eyes, and he didn't notice the signals you were sending him.

You had to talk to him, there was no other way. He had avoided you during Maeve's case and the funeral, and after that you had only had this one, harmless conversation because you didn't want to overwhelm him with more things right away. But now you were the one who was overwhelmed. You cared about his well-being, but not your own. It had always been like that, you were mainly concerned about him, even if it was ultimately overwhelming for you.

Was it worth it? Because I don't think so.

Having a free moment, you approached him and approached him. You wondered if you should do it or just back off, but your tongue got the better of you and the words came out. "We should talk."

He immediately turned to you. He knew this conversation would come, but somehow he wasn't ready for it. But he also knew how much worry and pain he had caused you, he couldn't put it off forever and keep running away. Grief wasn't an excuse. "Fine."

You found a spot in the hallway, a little more private, far enough away so you wouldn't be conspicuous through the glass doors. No one in the bullpen needed to hear your conversation or see what you did. You didn't promise predictability.

You could see he wanted to start calmly, like it always was between you, but you started abruptly first. "Spencer, what was that all about?"

He wasn't looking at you again, suddenly the floor seemed much more interesting. "What does that mean?"

"Don't suddenly act stupid, you're not stupid and unintelligent. What was wrong with our relationship?" You play brave, tough. You play because you don't feel that way.

He looked up, his lips pressed into a line. “Nothing. Everything was fine.” His answers were distant.

You shook your head slightly. “Spencer, talk to me, I don’t want any half-spells. You know what, I would expect this from anyone, anyone, but you."

He let you down, he let you down and that hurt him the most. He wasn't what you deserved. "I'm sorry." You could feel the shame in his voice but you didn't want shame or an apology because there was nothing left to save.

"I don't want your sorry. I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy. I didn't expect anything in return, not even though I got your feelings in return, I'm not saying I didn't, I won't lie. But how did you replace me so easily?" And your bravery quickly crumbled, and tears appeared in your eyes, you blinked a few times.

Silence.

"Do something, say something! You won't lose anything anyway." You were starting to get angry. This was the first time you had been angry at him like this and you had allowed yourself to be angry. "Because what else can you lose?" Maybe you should have kept your mouth shut and not said that. It sucks, it happens.

He swallowed hard. "You. I could lose you." He knew those words wouldn't do much now, but he tried anyway.

"Oh, you're just now thinking about this? And where, excuse me, were you earlier?! Sorry I forgot, in a phone booth. And you didn't see my gray face, how sick we've become, and if you noticed, you wouldn't admit it." You didn't mince your words, you deserved to be genuinely mad.

"I..."

You should have let him talk, you should have, but you didn't. "No, listen to me! You acted like the biggest, selfish asshole and I don't know what you were thinking!" He had never seen you so upset with him, but he didn't interrupt. "What did you miss, what did I miss?"

He deserved those words, he knew he deserved them. He didn't even try to argue, he accepted the harsh words. It hurt him more when he heard your question. "No, no, you didn't lack anything. It's my fault and I'm really sorry. You were so good and sweet to me, it's all my fault." He didn't want to lose you too, but he worked for it.

"You can't change anything, beating yourself up now won't change anything... Spence." You hesitated to address him that way at all. You weren't as loud as you had been a few seconds ago, but I guess he preferred it that way. It was easier for him to accept your anger and the hurling of insults than the disappointment in your voice. And that was exactly what was in your voice - disappointment.

He looked almost like a beaten puppy. "I know, I realize that." He thought for a moment; he wasn't in the habit of swearing. "I screwed up."

"Yes, and I don't deny it. I really thought you'd be honest. I wish I had known from the beginning, maybe it would have been easier." You had tears in your eyes, but you couldn't be stupid enough to cry. "I thought it was honest. My own pain was such an imposition."

He reached out and ran his hand through the hair on top of your head. He didn't want to scare you, to do something you wouldn't like, he held his hand there for a moment. "It wasn't an imposition, don't think like that. And you shouldn't have known this from the start, in fact I shouldn't have done it at the first."

You wanted to ask what Maeve had that you didn't, but you didn't even have the courage. You pulled his hand away from your hair. "Those are nice words, but we both know you can't take back your actions, which said something completely different." You bit the inside of your cheek until you finally spoke again. "You're losing me."

He didn't blame you for rejecting his hand, he understood that perfectly well, you had every right to avoid him, but he still felt a pang. He shook his head slightly. "No, don't say that, please."

"But it's over, Spence. You kind of decided that yourself. I'm really sorry she's gone, but helping with a case like hers is one thing, and love is another. I know you and I saw, well... that." You didn't want to bring up the brutal murder directly. "That's what love looked like."

For a moment you stood in silence, he couldn't deny it and you didn't know what to say. Without a word you turned around and started walking down the hallway towards the glass doors, a few tears in your eyes balanced between your lash line and the corners of your eyes.

Spencer lost something again, but you were no longer there for him.

See? I told you so.

You know what they all say, you don't know what you got until it's gone.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer x reader #matthew gray gubler #mgg #gublernation #angst #angst with a sad ending

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