#if you're unhappy with the realities of that responsibility that is all on you
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Too Damn Young: Part One
Summary: You and Spencer meet when you're both 18, you fall in love quickly and everything feels like a dream. Unfortunately, reality reminds you that sometimes even though people don't fall out of love, they don't always stay together.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: fluff, angst
Warnings/Includes: suggestive content (16+), loss of virginity (not described) young love, unhappy ending, divorced parents, emotional strain with mom
Word count: 11.5k
a/n: this is not a summer fling!!! they are in loveee and i promise there will be a part two and it will be happier!!!
main masterlist part two
It’s the summer after your senior year of high school, and you’re caught in that strange, in-between space where the world feels wide open but also incredibly small. San Luis Obispo, with its familiar streets and faces, starts to feel more like a cage than the cozy town you grew up in. Everyone around you seems to be moving on, heading off to college, or traveling to far-flung places, leaving you behind to figure out what’s next. You’re not sure what you want to do with your life yet, so for now, you’re staying put, even though it feels like the walls are closing in a little more each day.
“Feet off the coffee table, Y/N,” your mother sighed as she walked into the living room, her voice carrying the usual exhaustion and concern.
You glanced up from your phone, your feet still comfortably propped up on the coffee table. “You never cared before…” you muttered, not really in the mood for another one of these talks.
She sighed again, more deeply this time, as if she was bracing herself for what she was about to say. “Well, before, you were in school and not at home all day.”
You frowned, feeling the sting of her words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Why don’t you get a job? Or go make some friends?” she suggested, her tone trying to be encouraging but not quite hitting the mark. “Oh! You could go walk on campus, maybe it will inspire you.”
You rolled your eyes, not bothering to hide your frustration. The last thing you wanted to do was wander around a college campus that wasn’t even yours, pretending to be inspired by something you weren’t sure you even cared about. But the way your mother was looking at you, with hope and a touch of worry, made you bite back the sarcastic response that was on the tip of your tongue.
Instead, you just sighed and looked away, feeling the weight of her expectations pressing down on you. “Maybe,” you mumbled, not committing to anything, but not outright refusing either. You could tell she wanted you to do something, anything, to shake off this sense of being stuck. But the truth was, you weren’t sure where to start, or if you even wanted to.
—
Spencer Reid arrived in town carrying the weight of moving his mother into a mental care facility, something that’s left him feeling more vulnerable than ever. Starting his PhD program in a new place where he doesn’t know anyone is daunting, but there’s a flicker of hope that things might be different this time. He’s no longer the child prodigy being scrutinized by older students; now, at least, he’s finally an adult, and maybe—just maybe—people will see him as one.
He opened the door to his new apartment, the hinges creaking slightly as it swung open to reveal the small, yet functional space that would be his home for the foreseeable future. The apartment was modest, furnished with the bare essentials, but it was clean and had a certain charm, or so he tried to convince himself. This place was provided by the program he was a part of, a stroke of pure luck.
Spencer set down his suitcase and took a slow, deliberate breath, trying to ground himself in this new reality. As he began to unpack and organize, the familiar rhythm of settling in started to take over, a ritual he had grown accustomed to over the years. But as he moved from room to room, he quickly realized something unsettling—he lacked a lot of the basic things that had always been provided for him in other housing situations, like the dorms and shared accommodations he had known before.
No dish soap, no paper towels, no trash bags—nothing that could help him actually live in this space comfortably. The realization hit him harder than it should have, maybe because of the long day, or maybe because of everything else weighing on his mind.
Spencer glanced at the clock. It was just past midnight. The last thing he wanted to do was venture out into the world right now, but he knew he had to. He couldn’t just sit here, surrounded by empty shelves and a lingering sense of displacement. With a resigned sigh, he decided it was time to go on a mission—a mission to find a store that was open this late.
He grabbed his jacket, mentally preparing himself for the challenge ahead. “How many people could really be out at 12 a.m. on a Tuesday?” he muttered to himself, trying to inject some optimism into his tone, though it came out more as a question than a statement.
As he stepped outside into the cool night air, the streets of San Luis Obispo were quieter than he expected, almost eerily so. The unfamiliarity of the town, combined with the late hour, made him feel like he was stepping into a different world altogether. But there was a certain solace in the solitude, a small comfort in the fact that he wouldn’t have to navigate crowds or make small talk with strangers.
—
You wandered down the aisles of the 24-hour market, the quiet hum of the overhead lights and the distant sound of a radio playing in the background the only noise in the otherwise silent store. It was strange to see it so empty, almost eerie, but there was a certain comfort in not having to navigate through crowds or make polite small talk with anyone. Tonight was all about one thing: satisfying that sudden, undeniable craving for your favorite ice cream.
As you rounded the corner into the freezer section, your mind focused on the treat you were about to indulge in, a sharp pain shot through your foot. "Ow!" you yelped, instinctively jumping back from the source of the pain—a shopping cart that had just run over your toes.
"Oh my god, I am so, so sorry! I didn’t see you there," came a voice from the other side of the cart, the owner of it looking every bit like a kicked puppy. His face was a mix of genuine concern and a hint of panic, as if this small accident was the last thing he needed tonight.
You bit back the initial irritation, quickly realizing this guy was already on the verge of a meltdown. "It’s fine, man, it’s not like there’s a lot of people around to watch out for anyway," you joked, hoping to ease the tension. The last thing you wanted was for this to turn into some big, awkward thing.
He tried to laugh, though it came out shaky and unsure. “Ye—yeah, it’s pretty late.”
You nodded, sensing his awkwardness and suddenly feeling a bit of it yourself. "Yup, well, try not to run anyone else over," you teased lightly, giving him a small smile before stepping past him to continue your mission.
As you walked away, Spencer shook his head, his expression clouding over with self-reproach. He started mumbling to himself, words of self-criticism spilling out in a low voice, but you didn’t catch any of it. Your mind was already back on your goal, and when you finally spotted your favorite ice cream, all thoughts of the encounter slipped away.
With your prize in hand, you made your way to the checkout and then headed home, unaware of the lingering impact that brief interaction had left on him.
—
Spencer finally felt like he had made his new apartment feel like home. The once-empty shelves were now stocked with cleaning supplies and other basic necessities, and though he wasn’t really one for decorating, the furniture provided by the campus and his own collection of books, awards, and memorabilia gave the space a sense of familiarity. It wasn’t flashy, but it was his.
Yet, after a few days of getting settled, Spencer began to feel something gnawing at him—a sense of being cooped up. He was no stranger to spending long hours alone, buried in his studies or lost in thought, but the endless California sunshine streaming through his windows, and the distant sounds of laughter and life happening outside, started to pull at him. The world outside felt alive in a way his apartment couldn’t match.
Spencer stood by his bookshelf, running a finger along the spines of his well-loved volumes, but the itch to get out and breathe the fresh air was undeniable. Maybe it was time to explore a little, to break up the routine and experience something new. He recalled reading about a bookstore down by the beach, a place that sounded like the perfect combination of quiet and lively—somewhere he could disappear into a sea of books but still feel connected to the world outside.
Grabbing his tote bag, empty and ready to be filled with new reads, Spencer slung it over his shoulder. With one last glance around his apartment, he stepped out, feeling a sense of excitement with a touch of nerves. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for, but he knew he needed to be out there, under that California sun, even if just for a little while. The bookstore by the beach seemed like the perfect place to start.
—
Your mom had really been on your case lately, pushing you to get out of the house and do something with your time. She’d made it clear that your late-night escapades didn’t count, much to your dismay. Each time you’d excitedly recount your quiet midnight walks or the random people you’d encounter, she would just shake her head, unimpressed. She meant during the day—when the sun was shining and the world was alive.
So, in an effort to appease her, you started to drag yourself out of bed each morning and head down to the beach. If you had to be outside, you might as well make the most of it. Lazing around on the sand didn’t seem so bad, especially when you could feel the warmth of the sun on your skin. You convinced yourself that at least you’d get a tan out of this forced outdoor time, right?
After a few days of this new routine, something caught your eye—a "help wanted" sign hanging in the window of a small bookstore that sat right along the sandy sidewalk of the beach. You paused, considering it for a moment. Working in a bookstore couldn’t be all that bad. After all, you loved reading. The idea of spending your days surrounded by books sounded infinitely better than more awkward mother-daughter conversations about your lack of daytime activities.
With that thought, you stepped inside and inquired about the position. The place smelled like old paper and salt air, and the sweet old man behind the counter greeted you with a kind, if tired, smile. He explained that he desperately needed help; his partner had passed recently, and he had been struggling to keep the shop running on his own. They had no children or kin to pass the shop along to, and he had resigned himself to working alone—until you walked in.
You applied on the spot and, to your surprise, heard back immediately. They really needed the help. The next day, you started as their first and only employee, stepping into a quiet world of books and stories just waiting to be discovered.
—
The bell above the door dinged, signaling a customer had entered the bookstore. You bookmarked your place in the novel you’d been reading and set it aside before calling out, “Welcome in.”
At first glance, the customer paid no attention to you, his focus solely on the shelves of books in front of him. But as you looked up from your counter, you froze for a second—it was the guy from the 24-hour market. The one who had run over your toes with his cart. For a brief moment, panic surged through you, the irrational thought crossing your mind that maybe he was stalking you. But that idea quickly faded when you remembered how adorably awkward he had been. And, if you were honest with yourself, even if he was stalking you, you might just be flattered. He was quite attractive—adorable in a geeky way, charming in an awkward way, and just plain handsome.
Curiosity getting the better of you, you slid off your stool behind the counter and walked over to where he was browsing, his nose already buried in the pages of a book. “Can I help you find anything?” you asked, leaning over his shoulder with your hands behind your back, trying to get a glimpse of what he was reading.
Spencer, completely absorbed in the first chapter of the book, didn’t hear you approach. He yelped and dropped the book, spinning around to face you with wide eyes. “Uh—um, no—no thank you, miss,” he stammered, clearly flustered both from the shock of your sudden presence and the quick realization that you were the same person he’d bumped into at the market. And now, seeing you up close in the daylight, he was even more struck by how pretty you were.
You chuckled, reaching down to grab the book he had dropped. “This is a good one,” you said, handing it back to him with a friendly smile. “I read it last week. I’d definitely recommend it.”
Spencer took the book from your hand, his own hands almost shaking. “Th-thank you,” he managed, clearing his throat. “Thank you…”
“Y/N,” you introduced yourself, grinning a little wider. “And you are?”
“Spencer Reid. Uh, Spencer.”
“Well, Spencer Reid,” you teased, “it’s nice to see you again. Are my toes safe this time?”
Spencer blinked, and then recognition lit his eyes as he remembered. His face flushed with embarrassment, but he gave you a small, sheepish smile. “Yes, your toes are perfectly safe this time,” he assured you, still clearly flustered but trying to keep his cool.
“That’s good to hear,” you stifled a laugh, unable to resist teasing him further. “I can’t say the same about yours, though,” you added over your shoulder, turning to walk back toward the counter.
Spencer, intrigued and not quite understanding what you meant, quickly asked, “What? Why not?” He followed after you, just as you had hoped he would.
When you reached the counter, you nodded your head toward him, silently encouraging him to join you. He hesitated, glancing around the quiet, empty store, but when he saw no one else there, he finally gave in and walked over.
“She’s why,” you giggled softly, leaning down to scratch the head of an old tabby cat that had appeared on the counter. She purred loudly, her eyes half-closed in contentment. Spencer’s eyes softened at the sight of the cat.
“Oh, she’s so pretty,” he mused, leaning in next to you to scratch the cat as well.
“Careful,” you began to warn, “she—oh,” you said, surprised as Nala, the cat, nuzzled affectionately into Spencer’s hand. “She usually doesn’t take well to strangers, especially men.”
Spencer blushed a little, his eyes widening slightly in disbelief. “Really?”
You nodded, watching the way Nala practically melted under his touch. “Yeah, I guess you’re special,” you said, smiling at him.
And you weren’t wrong. As Spencer continued to visit the bookstore at least once a week, sometimes just to browse, sometimes to chat, you’d come to realize just how special he really was. Nala certainly knew it first, and as time went on, you couldn’t help but see it too.
—
“So,” you sighed dramatically, flipping through the newspaper in search of the crossword puzzle, “my mom is making me go out to our lake house in Lake Tahoe all by myself this year to check on it. She doesn’t want to go without her new girlfriend, and the girlfriend doesn’t want to go, period.” You rolled your eyes, clearly exasperated, as you vented to Spencer. He nodded along, his eyes fixed on you, absorbing every word like it was the most important thing in the world.
“I have to drive all the way there, almost seven hours, just to make sure the heat pump still works, the pipes didn’t burst during the winter, and all that other nonsense,” you continued, your frustration spilling out in each sentence.
Spencer seemed to mull over your words for a moment, the gears in his mind turning before he casually shrugged and said, “I’ll go with you.”
Your head snapped up, your voice jumping an octave. “What?”
“Yeah,” he repeated, more cautiously this time. “I mean, if you want me to. I could keep you company. I don’t know how to drive, but… you wouldn’t be alone.”
You blinked at him, momentarily thrown by his offer. “Wait—what? You don’t know how to drive? How old are you again?”
“Y/N…” Spencer’s face flushed with embarrassment, his eyes dropping for a second before he met your gaze again. “You know I’m 18, and you know I was a child prodigy. I didn’t have time to learn how to drive.”
The realization made you laugh, an idea immediately sparking in your mind. “I could teach you!” you said, jumping off your stool in excitement.
“No, no, that’s a bad idea,” Spencer protested quickly, shaking his head as if the thought of being behind the wheel terrified him.
“It’s a great idea!” you argued, grinning at him. “You come to Tahoe with me, and I’ll teach you how to drive. It’s perfect!”
Spencer hesitated, clearly unsure about the whole thing, but your enthusiasm was hard to resist. Even he couldn’t deny that the trip might be a little more interesting with you by his side.
“Fine,” Spencer finally relented, though the nervous edge to his voice lingered. “But on my terms.”
You grinned, raising your hands in surrender. “Deal! Oh my god, this is so exciting. Now I’m actually looking forward to it!”
Spencer smiled shyly, his heart doing an odd little flip at your enthusiasm. Over the past few weeks, he had realized that his crush on you had grown significantly, but he couldn’t quite figure out if you felt the same. Sometimes, he thought you might—there were moments when your smiles lingered a little too long or your teasing became just a little too playful. But then there were the times when you casually mentioned people asking you out, and it made him doubt whether you saw him that way at all.
“When are we going?” he asked, trying to push the uncertainty out of his mind.
“Oh, yeah, hah,” you laughed lightly, “We’d leave Saturday morning.”
“Oh!” Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. “As in two days from now? Why are you just now telling me?”
“My mom just told me!” you said, shrugging like it wasn’t that big of a deal.
“Fair enough.” Spencer sighed, already mentally preparing himself for the trip. “I’ll go home and start packing. See you Saturday? Should I meet you here?”
You shook your head and handed him your phone, your fingers brushing against his as he took it. “Hmm, no. Here, put in your number and text me your address. I’ll pick you up.”
Spencer blushed, the warmth creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. “Okay…” he mumbled as he carefully entered his number into your phone, hoping his hands weren’t shaking too noticeably.
You took the phone back, flashing him one last grin before heading back to the counter. Spencer, now flustered and nervous about the weekend ahead, could only hope that maybe—just maybe—this trip would give him the chance to figure out where he stood with you.
—
As you drove along the winding roads leading to the lake house, Spencer's knuckles turned white as he clutched the door handle, his life flashing before his eyes with every sharp turn and sudden stop. Your driving might have been a bit... enthusiastic, but he found it hard to complain when he saw how happy you were, with the wind in your hair and a bright smile on your face. The open road seemed to breathe life back into you, away from home and responsibilities.
Spencer found himself utterly captivated. It wasn’t just the excitement of the trip—it was you. The way you belted out lyrics to your favorite songs without a care in the world, or how you launched into endless stories that would zigzag through a million different tangents before somehow snapping back to the original point. It was chaotic, but in the best way. In those moments, he could easily say this was already shaping up to be the best summer of his life.
At one point, you caught him staring, and with a mischievous smile, you asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Spencer shook himself out of his daze, heat creeping up his neck. “Oh, uh, you’re really pre—crazy. You’re a crazy driver,” he blurted out, sticking his tongue out playfully.
Your laughter echoed in the car, ignoring his slip-up as you teased, “You love it.”
Eventually, the car rolled to a stop in the driveway of your vacation home, a secluded and stunning house nestled right by the water. The lake stretched out in front of it, reflecting the trees and the sky in the stillness of the water. Spencer took in the sight, his unease fading as he realized just how beautiful and peaceful the place was.
“Wait…” Spencer said, a hint of mock worry creeping into his voice. “You didn’t bring me out here to kill me, did you?”
That startled a huge laugh out of you. “Shit, that was precisely my plan, but now you’ve ruined it!”
You both grabbed your bags and a few supplies from the car before making your way into the cozy lake house. The moment you stepped inside, you were hit with the scent of pine and the comforting warmth of the space. You couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement—it had been a while since you'd been here, and it felt like a retreat from everything back home.
“Okay!” you clapped your hands together. “Why don’t you go and take a look around? I’ll handle the checks really quick so we can just enjoy our time here!”
Spencer nodded, feeling a sense of awe as he wandered off to explore. The house was even more beautiful inside, with large windows showcasing the shimmering lake, tall ceilings, and wooden accents that gave it a rustic charm. It felt like the perfect getaway. He couldn’t help but think how lucky he was to be here, to experience something like this with you.
Despite growing up in Nevada, his family never brought him to places like this. His father had left when Spencer was young, and his mother’s declining health meant that traveling was difficult, even impossible at times. As he wandered through the house, looking at the furniture, the wooden beams, and the peaceful surroundings, Spencer felt a twinge of sadness mixed with gratitude. This was new for him—a taste of something he hadn’t even realized he missed out on.
“Hey, Spence, you good?” you asked, coming up behind him, startling him once again.
He jumped slightly, spinning around to face you with a sheepish grin. “Yup! Just… taking in the view.”
“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” you sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder, the gesture so casual yet intimate. The two of you stood in silence for a moment, soaking in the peaceful surroundings through the large windows overlooking the lake.
Spencer felt the warmth of your presence, the soft weight of your head on his shoulder, and for a brief second, the world outside seemed to fade away. He glanced down at you, trying to calm the flutter of his heart, feeling like maybe—just maybe—you were seeing this moment the same way he was.
—
The sky had turned into a blanket of stars, each one twinkling like a small firefly against the deep navy blue. The crisp night air had set in, making the warmth of the blanket you had wrapped around yourself all the more comforting as you sat on the deck, gazing up at the infinite sky.
Spencer was sitting nearby, his eyes occasionally darting from the stars to you, as if he were trying to capture both views. His natural curiosity about the universe seemed to blend with the simple contentment of just being here with you. The soft sound of water lapping against the dock and the quiet chirping of night creatures made everything feel serene.
You noticed him shiver slightly from the cool breeze that had picked up, and without thinking twice, you lifted the corner of the blanket and turned toward him. “Hey, come join me under here. It’s freezing out.”
Spencer hesitated for a moment, his eyes widening as he processed the invitation, but after only a beat, he scooted closer, accepting your offer. He slid under the blanket beside you, his arm brushing against yours as he tried to get comfortable.
“Better?” you teased, a soft smile playing on your lips as you looked at him from the corner of your eye.
He nodded, the warmth from the blanket and your closeness making him feel more at ease. “Much better,” he replied, a shy but pleased smile tugging at his lips.
You chuckled softly and leaned in just a little closer. “You know, Spence, I never pegged you for a stargazer.”
He glanced up at the sky again, his eyes shining with the reflection of the stars above. “I guess I’ve just never really had the opportunity to appreciate it. But this…” He gestured slightly to the sky and then to you, his voice soft. “It’s kind of perfect.”
You felt a warm flush at his words, your smile deepening as you nudged him playfully. “I’ll take the credit for the blanket and the company, but I can’t do much about the stars.”
Spencer chuckled, his laughter quiet and warm. “Well, you’re definitely making it better,” he said, his tone flirtatious but still unsure, like he was testing the waters. He shifted just slightly under the blanket, your shoulders now pressed against each other, the warmth between you a comforting contrast to the cool night air.
You turned your head toward him, catching his gaze in the soft glow of the moonlight. “I think you’re the one making it better, actually,” you teased lightly, the flirty edge in your voice impossible to miss.
Spencer’s breath caught for just a second, and he smiled—a real, genuine, and slightly bashful smile that made your heart skip. Neither of you said anything more for a moment, just sitting there, cozy under the shared blanket, watching the stars as the night wrapped itself around you.
—
The next morning, Spencer woke up feeling something he hadn’t felt in a long time—excitement. He jumped out of bed, an unusual spring in his step as he followed the delicious smell of pancakes drifting through the house. His heart was still fluttering from the night before, but the cozy warmth he felt with you had turned into something more eager and alive.
As he stepped into the kitchen, the sight before him stopped him dead in his tracks. You were standing at the stove, wearing the tiniest pair of shorts Spencer had ever seen, paired with a tight tank top that hugged your curves and rolls in ways that made his pulse race. His mouth went dry—well, until the smell of the pancakes reached him again, and he couldn’t tell if his hunger was for the food or… well, you.
You turned at the sound of his footsteps, flashing him a playful smile. “Good morning, sleepyhead! I know you’ve got a sweet tooth, so don’t even think about telling me you don’t like pancakes,” you teased, pointing a spatula at him in mock accusation.
For a moment, Spencer was utterly starstruck. You looked radiant, the soft morning light streaming in through the windows making you glow. But what really sent him reeling was how the thin material of your tank top clung to you, especially how your breasts pressed against it as you moved. He quickly looked up, his face already heating, but his brain seemed to short-circuit for a second.
“Uh, um, yeah, I love pancakes,” he stammered, trying his best to sound normal. “Thank you.”
You smiled sweetly, seemingly unaware of the internal chaos you’d stirred in him. “Good, because I made way too many,” you said with a wink, plating up a stack of pancakes and setting it on the counter. “Come on, grab a seat. They’re best when they’re hot.”
Spencer nodded, his movements slightly robotic as he took a seat, forcing himself to focus on the food and not how close you were as you set the plate in front of him. The morning air was warm, but the atmosphere between you two felt even warmer. As you sat down across from him, he couldn’t help but feel like something was shifting between you—something exciting, and possibly dangerous for his already fragile composure.
—
That afternoon, you and Spencer strolled through the charming town center of Lake Tahoe, taking in the relaxed vibe and the quaint shops lining the streets. The day had been filled with lighthearted fun—nothing too serious, just the two of you enjoying each other’s company. You couldn’t help but smile as you pointed out little details of the town, laughing at Spencer’s commentary and feeling a sense of ease that came so naturally with him.
But then, as you browsed one of the boutique shops, a mischievous thought crossed your mind. You turned to Spencer, feigning an innocent realization. “Oh, I totally forgot to pack a swimsuit!”
He blinked, caught off guard by your sudden announcement. “You… you forgot to pack a swimsuit?”
You shrugged casually, glancing toward the back of the shop where the swimwear section was. “Yeah, I mean, I’m gonna need one if we want to hit the water, right?”
Spencer nodded slowly, looking a little confused but following along. You weren’t entirely sure, but you were starting to feel like maybe he saw you as more than just a friend. There had been glances, small moments—like when you caught him staring or how he’d shyly brush against you. And truth be told, you felt a spark with him too, something that made you want to push the boundaries just a little, to see how far they would stretch.
“Do you… uh, want my help choosing one?” Spencer asked, his voice a little shaky as he tried to keep his cool.
You smiled sweetly, barely able to contain your amusement. “Well, yeah, Spence,” you giggled. “I need a second opinion! I can’t buy something that makes me look bad, right?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but before his brain could stop him, the words slipped out. “I don’t think you could look bad in anything.”
The second the sentence left his lips, Spencer’s face turned a shade of red you’d only seen once before when he’d been particularly flustered. His eyes widened in panic, as though he couldn’t believe he’d said that out loud.
You couldn’t help but giggle, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the sunshine outside. “Aw, Spence,” you teased gently, reaching out to touch his arm. “That’s sweet.”
Spencer looked away, clearly embarrassed, but you could see the tiniest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It was adorable how easily he could be thrown off balance around you, and you secretly loved that you had that effect on him.
“Okay, so I personally think I look good in red…” you mused aloud, casually flipping through the racks of swimsuits that, if Spencer had a weak heart, would definitely send him into cardiac arrest. You picked up a bold red bikini and glanced over at him with a raised brow. “But your favorite color is purple, right?”
“Huh?” Spencer was caught off guard, blinking rapidly as he processed your question. “Yeah, it is.” He was surprised, and admittedly touched, that you remembered something so seemingly small.
“Well then, let’s try this on!” you declared with a bright smile, grabbing a deep purple swimsuit off the rack in one hand and reaching for Spencer’s hand with the other. Before he could protest, you were dragging him toward the fitting rooms.
“Y/N, I can’t come back there with you,” he said, his voice rising in a panic as the realization of what was happening hit him.
You sent him a playful glare over your shoulder, the kind that made his heart race even faster. “You can and you will, unless you think I should walk out here and let the whole store see me?”
“Nope!” Spencer yelped immediately, his face turning an impressive shade of red. He hated that idea. The thought of other people seeing you in something as revealing as a swimsuit made his stomach churn, and the words left his mouth before he could think twice. “I’ll come back…”
The fitting room was more casual than expected—just one room with a curtain separating the changing area from a small sitting spot. Spencer sat down on a cushioned bench, his heart pounding in his chest as you slipped behind the curtain, out of sight.
For a moment, he could only stare at the fabric of the curtain, feeling like he was in some surreal daydream. The small sounds of you moving around behind the curtain sent his imagination spiraling in ways he really didn’t want it to go, but he couldn’t help it.
“How’s it going back there?” Spencer asked awkwardly, fidgeting with his hands as he tried to distract himself from the situation.
You giggled softly from behind the curtain, and he could hear the light rustling of fabric as you adjusted the swimsuit. “Almost ready. Just… a sec.”
Spencer swallowed hard, unsure if he was ready for whatever was coming next. His heart beat faster with every passing second, and he wasn’t sure whether to brace himself for a disaster or… something else entirely.
And then you stepped out from behind the curtain, more confident than Spencer could ever hope to be. The swimsuit you had chosen—a soft purple that hugged your curves and contrasted beautifully with your skin—made Spencer’s heart stop. For a moment, all he could do was stare, frozen in place, his mind short-circuiting at the sight of you standing there in all your stunning glory.
You did a small, playful spin, the movement so effortless and carefree, and Spencer choked on his spit at the sight of your ass as you turned. His face went from pale to a deep, crimson red in less than a second.
“Well…?” you asked, your voice playful, a little teasing as you caught his stunned expression. “What do you think?”
Spencer blinked rapidly, trying to regain his composure, but the words seemed to be stuck in his throat. He opened his mouth to respond but all that came out was a strangled noise that sounded somewhere between awe and panic.
You smiled, clearly amused by his flustered reaction. “Come on, Spence,” you pressed gently, stepping closer to him, “I need to know if it’s a keeper or not.”
He finally managed to stammer something that resembled coherence. “I-I think… it’s perfect.” He gulped. “You look… incredible.”
You grinned, pleased by his approval. “You sure? I mean, I don’t want to walk around looking bad.”
Spencer shook his head quickly. “No, no, not at all. You… you couldn’t look bad if you tried.”
Your smile softened, and for a moment, the teasing air between you two shifted into something warmer, something real. Spencer was still blushing furiously, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something more than just admiration.
“Thanks, Spence,” you said quietly, the playful edge fading as you felt the weight of his gaze on you. It wasn’t just about the swimsuit anymore—it was about the way he looked at you, like you were the most beautiful thing in the room. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to make you feel it too.
The air between you shifted, the teasing moment turning into something heavier, more charged. You suddenly felt shy, your confidence wavering as you caught the intensity of Spencer’s gaze, still lingering on you.
“Um… Spence?” you asked, your voice softer now.
“Yeah?” he responded, his voice quiet, his eyes still fixed on you like he was in a haze.
You bit your lip, your heart racing as you glanced at the mirror. “Can you, uh… help me adjust the straps? I can’t reach,” you said, the words tumbling out. It was a lie, and you both knew it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You wanted to feel his hands on you, to see if the tension in the air was something more than just a moment.
Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, but without a word, he stood up, his movements slow and deliberate, almost as if he was on autopilot. He walked toward you, his steps careful, the space between you closing with every second.
You turned to face the mirror inside the changing room, stepping just a little closer to the glass, forcing Spencer to enter the small space with you. The two of you were now standing so close, his breath warm against the back of your neck. You could feel the heat radiating off him as his fingers lightly brushed against your skin, adjusting the strap of the swimsuit with a tenderness that made your pulse quicken.
The moment stretched, neither of you speaking, both of you hyper-aware of the other’s presence. His hands lingered on your shoulders, and when you glanced at his reflection in the mirror, you saw the way his eyes had darkened, his gaze flicking between your face and the curve of your neck.
You swallowed, feeling the tension thick between you. “Spence…” you whispered, turning your head slightly to look up at him over your shoulder.
His gaze locked with yours, and for a moment, it felt like time had stopped. The small space, the mirror, the soft rustling of clothes in the distance—it all faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in this intimate moment.
Without thinking, you turned fully, facing him now. Your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it. His hands were still on your shoulders, his fingers trembling slightly. And then, before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, closing the distance between you and pressing your lips softly against his.
Spencer froze for a split second, his mind trying to catch up with what was happening, but then he melted into the kiss, his hands sliding down to your waist, pulling you closer. It was soft at first, shy, tentative, like both of you were testing the waters. But then, as you deepened the kiss, the shyness started to fade, replaced by something warmer, something real.
You pulled back slowly, not wanting to push things too far in such a public place, but you couldn’t resist the tender moment. Your thumb dragged lightly across Spencer’s bottom lip, his mouth curving into a soft smile under your touch.
“I hope that was okay,” you whispered, suddenly afraid to break the delicate bubble the two of you had created. The world outside seemed distant, as though it didn’t exist beyond this tiny, intimate space.
Spencer let out a soft laugh, his voice still filled with a mix of awe and shyness. “Considering that was my first kiss, it was amazing.”
You blinked, looking at him in shock. “That was your first kiss? Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry! I didn’t even ask if you—” But before you could finish your frantic apology, Spencer leaned down and kissed you again, his hands resting on your waist, pulling you closer.
The kiss was slower this time, more confident. He wasn’t holding back, and neither were you. When he pulled back, his lips barely an inch from yours, he whispered against your skin, “I could not have asked for a better person.”
Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice making the moment feel even more special. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling like this was a turning point—something that was destined to happen, like you were meant to share this with him.
—
That night, everything felt light and easy between you and Spencer. The kitchen was filled with laughter and warmth as you both cooked dinner together. Every so often, you’d lean over to steal a playful kiss, the steam from the boiling noodles creating a cozy, almost magical atmosphere around you. Spencer’s awkwardness had melted away by then, replaced with a soft confidence that showed in the way he kissed you back, teasing you as he pretended to stir the sauce.
After dinner, you found yourselves sitting on the floor, playing a few rounds of Mancala, each of you laughing as you tried to out-strategize the other. But eventually, the pull of the hot tub outside became too tempting to resist.
You changed into your new swimsuit and waited outside, the night air cool against your skin but the anticipation of the hot water—and of Spencer—keeping you warm. When he finally stepped outside, you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips.
There he was, standing in the doorway in blue banana-print swim trunks, his lanky frame looking more adorable than you could have imagined. You felt a rush of excitement at seeing him like this, so much of him exposed, his vulnerability on full display in the cutest way possible.
“Don’t laugh,” Spencer whined, clearly embarrassed, his cheeks flushing pink.
“Spence, they’re cute!” you reassured him, still grinning as you tried to hold back more laughter. You walked over and tugged lightly at the waistband of his trunks, giving him a playful smile. “I love them.”
He looked at you, his shyness melting away under your warmth, and after a moment, he finally smiled. “You’re just saying that.”
“No, I mean it,” you said, stepping closer, your hands resting on his chest. “They’re very you.”
Spencer rolled his eyes but his smile remained, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear before taking your hand and leading you toward the hot tub. The playful teasing was replaced by a quiet excitement, the warmth of the tub waiting for you both.
You and Spencer settled into the hot tub, the warmth of the water enveloping both of you as you leaned back, the night sky above dotted with stars. The steam curled around your bodies, making everything feel soft and dreamlike. You let out a contented sigh, closing your eyes for a moment.
“This is perfect,” you murmured, glancing over at Spencer, who was sitting stiffly on the opposite side, his hands gripping the edge of the tub.
“It’s… nice,” he replied, though his face was scrunched up in thought, like something was bothering him.
You raised an eyebrow at him, amused by his hesitance. “You okay, Spence?”
He hesitated for a moment, then blurted, “Do you know how many germs are in a hot tub?”
You burst out laughing, completely caught off guard. “What? No! Spencer, don’t ruin this for me!” you teased, splashing a little water in his direction.
“I’m serious!” he insisted, his voice rising slightly as he adjusted his glasses, which were already fogging up from the steam. “Hot tubs are like… breeding grounds for bacteria. The warm water creates the perfect environment for microorganisms to thrive, and if the pH or chlorine levels aren’t properly maintained, it can lead to a whole range of infections—skin, respiratory, you name it.”
You giggled, shaking your head in disbelief. “Only you would bring up bacteria in a hot tub. Come on, relax for once!”
Spencer’s face was a mix of genuine concern and embarrassment as he continued, clearly unable to stop himself now that he’d gotten started. “No, really, the CDC recommends monitoring hot tub water regularly because—"
You cut him off by playfully splashing him again, this time a bit more, laughing as you watched him sputter, pushing his glasses up as they slid down his nose.
“Okay, okay, I get it!” you said between fits of giggles. “But you’re in here now, so unless you want to hop out and start running tests, you’re just going to have to deal with it.”
Spencer looked at you for a moment, as if considering the possibility of actually running tests, but then he laughed softly, shaking his head. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though there was a fondness in his voice that made you smile.
“Look, the hot tub may be full of germs, but at least I’m not,” you teased, leaning a little closer to him. “So how about you just focus on me instead of all the invisible bacteria?”
He blinked, his eyes darting between yours and the water for a moment before he finally let out a breath and relaxed, a small smile playing on his lips. “You make a good argument,” he admitted.
“See?” you said, inching even closer to him, your shoulders almost touching. “Now, doesn’t this feel better than worrying about germs?”
Spencer chuckled, his arm sliding across the back of the tub as he allowed himself to relax a bit more. “Yeah,” he admitted softly. “Much better.”
The playful conversation in the hot tub eventually faded into a comfortable silence, the only sound being the soft bubbling of the water. You noticed Spencer had gone quiet, and when you glanced over at him, you realized why. His eyes kept darting down to your chest, unable to hide his fascination.
You tried to hold back a giggle but couldn’t. “Spence… my eyes are up here,” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.
He immediately flushed red, looking away in embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry! It’s just… I didn’t know that…” He trailed off, unsure how to finish his sentence without digging himself deeper into the hole of awkwardness he had created.
“Didn’t know what?” you asked, amused by how flustered he was becoming. “That they could float?”
Spencer hesitated before nodding, clearly mortified. “Well… yeah,” he admitted quietly. “I guess I didn’t think about it before, but, uh, it’s interesting. Scientifically, I mean.”
You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, causing Spencer’s blush to deepen even further. “Oh, Spence, you’re adorable,” you said, still giggling. “They’re just balls of fat, you know?”
He blinked at you, his curiosity piqued now that you’d made it sound so simple. “I guess that makes sense,” he murmured, still staring despite his best efforts to focus on something else.
A playful, daring thought popped into your head then. You leaned in closer, biting your lip slightly before whispering, “You know… if you want, you can touch them.”
Spencer’s eyes went wide, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. “W-What?” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at you in disbelief, as if he wasn’t sure whether he’d heard you correctly.
You smiled, your expression soft but teasing. “I’m serious,” you said, your voice gentle but laced with curiosity. “It’s okay if you want to. I mean… it’s not like I mind.”
For a moment, Spencer seemed frozen, his mind likely racing through a million thoughts all at once. You could see the internal battle on his face—his logical brain warring with his curiosity and the undeniable attraction between the two of you. Finally, he swallowed hard and nodded, still unsure but willing to trust you.
Slowly, almost cautiously, his hand reached out, fingers trembling slightly as they hovered near your chest. When his hand finally made contact, his touch was soft and hesitant, like he was afraid to hurt you. His wide eyes stayed fixed on you the entire time, clearly amazed by the experience but also checking to make sure you were okay with it.
“Wow,” he breathed out, his voice barely audible, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your breast as if he were studying it in awe. You could see the genuine fascination on his face, his scientific curiosity mixing with something much more intimate.
You smiled softly at him, letting him take his time, feeling the weight of the moment between you two. This wasn’t just a playful interaction anymore—it had shifted into something more vulnerable, more personal. And in that moment, you both felt it.
"Spencer?" you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
He looked up, his wide eyes meeting yours, his hands still gently fondling your breasts as if he were afraid to break the delicate moment between you. "Yeah?" he responded, his voice just as soft, the world around you both feeling smaller, quieter.
"Kiss me," you breathed out, the words slipping from your lips like a secret you’d been holding in, waiting for just the right moment to share.
For a second, Spencer just stared at you, his mind seemingly struggling to catch up with what you had said. Then, slowly, as if in a trance, he leaned in, his breath warm against your lips. His hands, still resting on your chest, slid down to your waist, pulling you closer as he closed the distance between you.
The kiss was soft, tender at first, like he was still testing the waters, but the heat between you was undeniable. His lips pressed against yours with more confidence as the moment deepened, his touch growing bolder. You could feel the tremble in his hands, the nervousness and excitement coursing through him, mirroring your own feelings.
You leaned into him, your arms sliding around his neck as the kiss deepened. The steam from the hot tub swirled around you both, but the warmth between you was far more intense than the water. When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other.
"Spence…" you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of affection and awe. You could feel the shift between you two, the unspoken understanding that this moment had changed everything.
He smiled shyly, his hands still resting gently on your skin. "That… was amazing," he whispered back, his voice filled with wonder, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.
You grinned, pressing a soft kiss to his lips again, a silent promise of more to come.
That night, under the soft glow of the moon and the warmth of the water still clinging to your skin, you and Spencer shared something deeper than either of you had anticipated. What started as tender kisses turned into a night of exploration, vulnerability, and intimacy. You took each other’s virginity, not in a rushed or hurried way, but slowly, carefully, cherishing each touch, each whispered word of affection.
It wasn’t just physical; it felt like you were sharing more than just your bodies. You both made quiet promises, unspoken at first, then whispered into the darkness—promises of staying together, of not letting this be a fleeting summer memory. You could feel the weight of it, the significance of this moment between you two, and you knew Spencer felt it too.
By the time the night faded into dawn, you were no longer just friends. You had come to the lake house as two people testing the waters of something deeper, but you were leaving as partners, bound by the connection you had built together over these few days. It felt like the start of something real, something lasting. And in your heart, you knew it was.
—
A year later, everything had fallen into place in ways you couldn’t have imagined. You and Spencer were stronger than ever, navigating your lives together as you both pursued your dreams. Spencer was deep into his PhD program, doing incredible work that often left you in awe of just how brilliant he was. You, on the other hand, had officially taken ownership of the bookstore after Mr. Jannell, the original owner, retired, and though it was a huge responsibility, it felt like you were carving out a life you were proud of. At just 19, both of you were on paths that felt meaningful and fulfilling.
Spencer had taken you to meet his mom, Diana, and you two had bonded almost instantly. Diana adored you, and before long, the two of you were “thick as thieves,” as Spencer liked to put it—sometimes much to his own chagrin. He’d always joke about how he couldn’t keep up with the way you and his mother teamed up against him during conversations, but deep down, you knew how much it meant to him that you got along so well.
When it came time for you to introduce Spencer to your family, it was a bit more complex. Your mom and her girlfriend liked Spencer well enough, and while he was perfectly polite, the truth was, you didn’t care much about their approval. The meeting you were really excited for was the one with your dad. He lived in Oregon, and though you had once planned to move there to be closer to him, meeting Spencer had changed your plans.
The trip to Oregon was everything you had hoped it would be. Your dad and Spencer hit it off immediately, bonding over literature, fine arts, sports statistics, and even chess. You could see the relief on Spencer’s face when he realized that your dad was a kind-hearted, free spirit—someone who truly understood and appreciated you. It meant the world to Spencer to have a father figure he could trust, and your dad made sure to let him know that he was always welcome to reach out, even giving him his personal number.
It was during that trip that both you and Spencer felt the confirmation that you were absolutely perfect for each other. The shared dreams, the easy companionship, the way your lives fit together—it all seemed to point to something greater.
So, when Spencer finished his PhD program at the age of 20, it felt like the most natural next step when he proposed. The way he looked at you, the ring in his hand, and the soft words he spoke made your heart swell. You had come so far together, and now, the future stretched out before you, full of possibilities you were ready to explore as partners for life.
"Oh my god, Spencer, yes!" you screamed, your heart racing with excitement. "Of course I'll marry you!"
And just like that, everything changed. You and Spencer were married, two best friends who had found each other in your small hometown and realized there was no one else in the world you’d rather spend your life with. It felt surreal at times—how lucky you were to have met and married someone who knew you better than anyone, someone who adored every part of you.
Spencer, for his part, was over the moon. He couldn’t believe that he’d found the perfect woman who not only supported him but loved him in ways he never thought possible. You were his best friend, his confidant, and now, his wife. It was a dream come true, and there wasn’t a day that passed where he didn’t marvel at the life you were building together.
Diana was beyond thrilled for the two of you, offering nothing but love and encouragement. Your father had been equally supportive, loving Spencer like a son from the moment they met. As for your mom and her girlfriend, they had expressed concern about how young you both were, warning you about the challenges of getting married so early in life. But, as always, their warnings fell on deaf ears—you had never really taken their advice to heart, especially when it came to matters of the heart.
You and Spencer knew, deep down, that what you had was real and lasting. You had both seen the future stretched out before you, and it was full of promise—promises you were ready to make good on, together.
—
It wasn’t until two years into your marriage that the cracks started to show, subtle at first but growing more obvious as time passed. Spencer had been on the lookout for new work, eager to challenge himself in ways his current job couldn’t. So when the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI reached out to him, it felt like a sign—an opportunity to use his big, brilliant mind in ways that could really make a difference. You couldn’t have been more proud of him when he told you, beaming as he shared the news. Your heart swelled with pride.
But the excitement quickly turned into a complicated issue. You had worked so hard over the past few years, growing your business until you owned not just one but two popular storefronts. Both were thriving, and while you had employees, your presence was necessary almost daily to keep things running smoothly. There was always something that needed your attention, always a fire to put out. The idea of uprooting everything and moving to Virginia for Spencer’s new role felt impossible—laughable even.
The moment Spencer saw how you reacted, the light in his eyes dimmed. He didn’t argue, didn’t push the idea. Instead, he swallowed his feelings and forced a smile, telling you that it was okay, that he didn’t need to move, that his job at Caltech was enough. He could stay. How could he tell the love of his life that he did want more? That he wanted to move, grow, and do something that felt more important than the work he was doing here?
So, he stayed silent. He resolved to push the opportunity aside and stay in California, continuing his work in the engineering department. But you noticed. Over the next few months, Spencer changed. He wasn’t the same bright-eyed, enthusiastic man who used to come home excited to tell you about his day. Instead, he was coming home fatigued, emotionally drained, going to bed earlier than usual and struggling to get up in the mornings. There was a heaviness about him, a weariness that worried you more with each passing day.
You could see the signs, but you didn’t know what was causing them. Your heart ached with the thought that Spencer might be struggling with something deeper, something like depression. You didn’t know how to help him, and that uncertainty weighed on you both.
“Hey, baby,” you greeted softly as Spencer walked through the door. He dropped his bag and jacket in the hall closet before slumping onto the couch next to you, immediately curling into your side, his head finding its usual spot against your chest.
“Hi,” he mumbled, his voice muffled as he pressed his face into you, seeking comfort.
You instinctively began stroking his hair, knowing it always soothed him. “How was your day?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light, even though you could already sense that something was wrong.
“Boring,” he muttered. “Long.”
You hummed softly, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. “I was thinking,” you began hesitantly, “maybe this weekend we could go visit your mom?”
Spencer’s head lifted slightly, his eyes suddenly alert with concern. “Why? Is she okay?”
You quickly shook your head, reaching for his hands. “Yes, love, she’s fine,” you assured him. “It’s just… I can tell you’ve been feeling down recently, and I thought seeing your mom might help. Maybe it would lift your spirits.”
Spencer huffed a breath through his nose, his gaze shifting to the side as he pulled away slightly. “It won’t.”
Your concern deepened, and you searched his face, wondering what was really going on. “What do you mean?” you asked softly, your voice laced with worry.
Spencer sighed heavily, the weight of whatever he had been holding back finally too much to bear. “I got fired today,” he admitted, his voice flat, like he was trying to keep the emotion out of it.
Your heart dropped. “What? Baby, why?” you asked, your tone frantic, already running through every possible reason in your mind.
“I told my boss about the offer from the FBI,” he explained, his hands fidgeting as he spoke. “They said if they fired me, then I could collect unemployment until I start my new job and I would get a severance package.”
Your heart stopped. The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp. “...Start your new job?” you repeated slowly, barely able to get the words out.
Spencer nodded, his gaze still averted. “I accepted the job in Virginia,” he said, his voice quiet, almost as if he were afraid to say it out loud.
“Without telling me? Or asking me?” Your voice trembled slightly as you tried to keep your emotions in check.
Spencer, exhausted and clearly fed up, scoffed, “I didn’t think I needed your permission.”
His tone carried a sharpness that stung, a sass that only came out when he was truly drained. It wasn’t like him to be dismissive, but this felt different. You took a breath, trying to steady yourself.
“No, you don’t,” you said flatly, your voice colder than you intended. “But I am your wife, and I’m pretty sure that decision is going to impact us both. I would have liked to have a say.”
Spencer let out a frustrated breath, his posture stiffening. “So you could say no again?” he snapped, his exhaustion now seeping into anger.
You stared at him, bewildered. “When did I ever say no?” you asked, your voice rising with disbelief.
“When I brought it up the first time, you laughed!” Spencer shot back, his voice louder now, frustration overtaking the sadness that had been weighing him down. “You didn’t take me seriously.”
Your heart raced, and you could feel the tension building. Fighting like this wasn’t something you were used to, especially with him. You hated this feeling of everything slipping through your fingers. “Baby, I didn’t know you were seriously considering it. You never brought it up again.”
“I didn’t want you to tell me we couldn’t make it work,” he said, his voice cracking with sadness now. The frustration in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a deep hurt that made your chest ache.
You stared at him, the weight of his words settling in. This wasn’t just a fight about a job. It was about more—about unspoken fears, miscommunication, and the silent distance that had crept in between the two of you. You had both been living in your own worlds, not realizing how far apart you were drifting.
The silence between you was heavy, and for the first time, the possibility that maybe—just maybe—you were heading in different directions hung in the air.
“I didn’t say we couldn’t make it work,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your own sadness mixing with the confusion. “But you made the decision without me… and that’s what hurts.”
Spencer looked at you, his eyes softening, but there was something there—an understanding, maybe—that this was bigger than either of you had anticipated. He hadn’t thought you’d react like this. You hadn’t expected him to push forward without you.
And in that moment, the future you both had built together seemed fragile, hanging in the balance of a choice neither of you had prepared for.
“What are you saying?” Spencer asked carefully, his voice softening, though there was still a thread of hope lingering in his words. “We can make it work? You’ll move with me?”
You hesitated, the weight of his question sinking in. You had both avoided the depth of this conversation for so long, but now it was staring you in the face. “Spencer… I have my stores,” you began, trying to make him understand the complexity of the situation, the commitment you had to your work.
“Can’t you sell them? Or… run them from Virginia?” he suggested, his tone almost casual, as if the solution were that simple.
You blinked, staring at him in disbelief. “It’s not that easy, Spence,” you replied, your voice tight with frustration. “If something goes wrong, I need to be there. I need to be in person to fix it. It’s my business. I can’t just run it from across the country.”
Spencer ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “I just… my work is important too. Don’t you see that? I’m talking about saving lives, helping people in ways that can make a real difference.”
You felt the sting of his words, the implication behind them cutting deeper than you expected. “What are you saying, Spencer?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly, a mixture of disbelief and hurt. “That what I do doesn’t matter?”
Spencer shook his head quickly. “No, that’s not what I meant—”
“But that’s exactly what it sounds like,” you interrupted, your voice louder now, the hurt rising to the surface. “You think because I’m not saving lives, because I’m not doing what you’re doing, that it’s less important? These stores… they mean everything to me. Just because it’s not life or death doesn’t mean it’s not important.”
“I guess I thought I meant everything to you,” Spencer whispered, tears spilling down his cheeks, his voice trembling with heartbreak.
Your own tears began to fall, your chest tightening as you watched the love of your life in such pain. “I thought so too,” you replied, your voice cracking. “But… would you leave everything behind and move across the country for me?” It was a question that hung heavy between you, one that neither of you had ever truly confronted before.
Spencer stared at you, his eyes red and glassy. “What is this?” he asked, his voice shaky. “Are we… are we breaking up?”
Your heart shattered at the thought, and you sobbed softly. “I don’t… I don’t know, Spence. But if you’re moving, I don’t see how we can make this work.” The weight of that reality crushed you both, the finality of it sinking in.
“You won’t even think about coming with me?” Spencer asked, his voice laced with desperation. He wanted to believe there was a chance, a way to bridge the gap.
You shook your head slowly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “Not right now, not when I’m just getting started. I can’t walk away from it.”
Spencer stood then, his movements sharp, final. “Well, I’m just getting started too,” he said, his voice breaking as he tried to hold back his emotions. “Maybe… maybe we were too young.”
You looked up at him, crying harder now. “You don’t mean that,” you choked out, shaking your head. The idea that he could regret the life you’d built together was too much to bear.
But Spencer looked down at you, his face full of sadness and regret. “I think I do,” he said softly, the words hanging between you like a dark cloud. “What were we thinking? We didn’t know what we were going to do with our lives. We should have waited, or… or talked about the future more.”
His words cut deep, each one a painful reminder of how far apart you had grown. The love was still there, strong and undeniable, but the reality of your different paths, your conflicting dreams, was threatening to tear you apart. And neither of you had any idea how to stop it.
—
At the airport, you walked Spencer as far as security would allow, neither of you ready to let go just yet. The reality of the moment weighed heavily on both of you, and as you pulled him into a tight hug, the tears flowed freely, unbidden.
“Spencer,” you whispered as you pulled back slightly, holding his face in your hands so you could look into his eyes. “I am so proud of you. You’re an amazing, wonderful, brilliant person, and you’re going to do great things. Please, don’t be a stranger.”
Spencer smiled through his tears, his expression soft but filled with pain. “Thank you, Y/N. That means so much coming from you. I know you’re going to do great things too. Keep me updated—I still want to be involved in your life.”
You nodded, your heart breaking as you tried to smile through the sadness. “I love you so much, Spence.”
“I love you too, Y/N,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “More than I can handle.”
The two of you stood there, holding each other, neither wanting to let go. It felt like an eternity and no time at all before the final call for his flight came over the loudspeaker. Reluctantly, Spencer pulled away, wiping his eyes as he looked at you one last time.
And then, just like that, he was gone.
You stood there for a moment, watching him disappear through security, the reality of it all hitting you like a wave. Alone, 22 years old, divorced, and still in your hometown, the life you’d imagined for the two of you now felt like a distant dream.
To be continued…
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Love Sea: The Price of Love (Tongrak & Mut's Backstories)
"Love is just a figment of our imagination." We were given more clues to both Tongrak and Mut's backstories in Episode 2 and how this has impacted their attitudes to love. There are crossovers starting to take shape, so here I am trying to connect some of those dots.
EP2: FLASHBACKS | History Repeating Itself
In Tongrak's flashbacks, we see two memories. One of him as a child where his parents Liw and Jak are fighting. His father demands that his mother pay him to stay. From the dialogue alone, I'm speculating if this is a man who married for wealth. If his father's driving force in the marriage had been monetary gain and greed - then 'love' for his family meant very little to him.
The next is of teenage Tongrak and his sister Kongkwan. It seems his sister was abandoned by her boyfriend, due to her unexpected pregnancy. In the case of both his mother and sister, love proved to be a fickle thing. So much so that a man could walk away from his unborn child, or abandon his family. Love was never enough.
So what is the price you pay for a shot at love, and is it worth it? Love brings ruin. It brings disappointment and unhappiness. Love doesn't guarantee stability or loyalty. So as Tongrak watches on, the very idea of love feels like a sham. An elaborate lie we have all bought into. "Yes, it's something we make up," Tongrak says, because he hasn't seen evidence to prove any different.
"If you don't want to end up like me...don't fall in love with anyone" his mother warns. A cautionary tale. Don't fall in love. Because love leads to nothing good. Do not make the same mistake.
EP3: PREVIEW | Embrace the Fantasy
In Episode 3's preview, Mut is eager to show Tongrak that he is capable of experiencing love. (I believe Tongrak is already starting to, which is why his mother's advice is haunting him. He's afraid he's falling into the same trap). Mut is being considerate of Tongrak's mental aversion to the idea by making his proposal feel low entry.
'If you think love is imaginary, then let's pretend. Why not indulge in that fantasy? We'll play make-believe whilst we're on the island.' (The implication being this isn't for real yet, so there's no need to panic). Mut is inviting Tongrak to focus only on the now and not the after. The island will be their bubble, suspended from the threat of reality for the timebeing. What Mut is hoping for is that Tongrak will come to change his mind on love through that process. That the feelings they experience whilst playing house can be transferred to real life. If it's easier to consider love within the confines of fantasy, then let's start there and see where it takes us.
WITH WEALTH, COMES POWER
We've seen Tongrak use his money to get what he wants. Money has the power to tether a man to his family, and equally it had the means to tear his family apart. "I'm not possessive of you but once I've paid you, you're mine." It's no surprise that Tongrak would see money as a means to exert control and as a bargaining chip.
In their NC scene, Tongrak repeatedly says "How much do I need to pay you to sleep with me?" By that point, Mut clearly didn't need money to be the deciding factor. He was plenty invested. But if it's easier for Tongrak to use money as a pretence for bargaining Mut's time, then Mut seems all too happy to oblige.
MAHASAMUT VERSUS TONGRAK'S FATHER
If Tongrak's father did leech off his mother's wealth, that would provide an interesting antithesis to Mut. Mut, the teenage runaway from a small island who has paved his way through life with very little. And yet takes full responsibility for himself, and doesn't expect a hand out. He only accepts payment in exchange for his hard work, and he doesn't wallow in self-pity because of this hardship.
I do expect a confrontation between Mut and Rak's father at some point. Jak could claim that Mut is essentially doing the same thing and exploiting Rak for his wealth. That there's no love involved. Thus, playing on Tongrak's fear and insecurity of history repeating itself. Whilst Mut does all he can to assure Tongrak he's anything but.
Tongrak's father also abandoned him (emotionally and/or physically). Now he has heard Mut share his own backstory about how his father kicked him out and left him to fend for himself, that's going to be a significant point of connection and compassion between them both. They may be on opposite sides of the coin with their upbringing, but they've gone through similar forms of heartache.
You can check out bird-inacage’s BL meta directory for all my other posts around Love Sea.
#love sea#love sea the series#tongrak x mahasamut#rakmut#fortpeat#fort thitipong#peat wasuthorn#love sea meta#no novel spoilers pls!#i love how these backstories are shaping up
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Hello, a request please, from Apollo x Daughter of Poseidon, (I really liked your stories that you wrote about them, and I wanted to see Apollo ask Eros if love is real, I think Apollo has to learn to discover that he has to forgive himself for Jasinto and Dapne, learning what first love is, real love and feeling guilty) 🤔
a vision of you 。*゚
— apollo x fem!reader
warnings: none a/n: hey, thanks for stopping by this humble blog, I hope you like this. kisses from Saturn. 🩵
Apollo headed towards the entrance and before knocking, he sighed. He was grateful for being a god, or else he knew the pain in his chest would spread throughout his body.
He looked perfect, it was impossible not to, but the sleepless nights were evident in the way he furrowed his brow and clenched his jaw. After a few seconds, he tapped three times on the marble door and it opened. How long had it been since he last entered there? Truth was, he couldn't remember, maybe he had never been there for real.
His steps echoed, and the dim light made him hesitate; he must have been desperate to subject himself to this.
“Apollo”
an omnipresent voice whispered, and an unfamiliar breeze lifted the curls falling on his forehead. The god swallowed hard and stood firm.
— Eros — he said with little enthusiasm. He was the one who had dragged himself there, but he wasn't eager to face what scared him the most.
“Love”
Apollo heard and took a step back realizing that Eros might know the reason for his visit. His legs began to tremble, and he felt a chill run down his spine.
“Does it even exist?” The words resonated strongly, the mockery in Apollo's tone shaking the place, almost shattering his hopes of receiving a positive response. He knew what he was doing, but he didn't care anymore. Would poking fun at the god of love lead to anything more tragic than what he had already endured?
“You'll see…”
A snap echoed, and the sun god fell to his knees in a trance.
And there you were, though Apollo didn't know it yet or know you yet, he could feel the longing to do so at that moment.
Truth be told, he couldn't see you clearly, just your silhouette bathed in the golden sunlight as you apparently swam. Within the vision, he heard echoes of your laughter mingled with others. Among all those meaningless shadows, you were the only one he wanted to see.
With that desire in mind, he reached out towards you, hoping to touch you, to reach you, but it seemed futile. In one last attempt, just as you were about to turn around, Apollo was dragged back to reality. The reality where he had no one, except a god who seemed to toy with his ache of loneliness.
“Not until you open your heart.”
Apollo felt his ichor burning and dug his nails into his palms.
— It's open! It's always open! Can't you see life has been unfair to me? — The god cried on the verge of tears.
A deafening silence filled the room above it, tension lingered, misunderstanding, probably Eros's anger.
“Are you sure, Apollo?” The voice replied, still calm. “You haven't forgiven yourself; that's the truth of your loneliness.”
— I've never chosen to be alone — he squeezed his eyes shut, tears streaming down his cheeks. He tried to stand, but a force knocked him back to the ground again, feeling his heart torn apart, every fiber bleeding, burning. He had never chosen such a fate, but he knew guilt consumed him.
“You're not better with company if you don't forgive yourself, Apollo.”
— Enough — he murmured weakly, tears falling onto the marbled floor, his reflection staring back at him. He sobbed, —Enough.
“The one who decides to end it is you. Do you want to meet her and be happy? Fix your issues, Apollo. Otherwise, you'll make her unhappy, just like all your ex-lovers.”
The pressure in his chest intensified, and he released the first cry.
“Heal yourself, god of healing, and then you'll be able to see me in the eyes again.”
The wind violently dragged him towards the exit as he clung, wanting to stay, wanting to ask, to know.
Apollo abruptly opened his eyes with a racing heart, he turned to the side and found you, asleep.
Your body lay with slow breaths and slightly parted lips, some strands of hair fell on your face, and Apollo gently pushed them aside, leaning in to kiss your cheek.
He wished the dream had only been an illusion, but it was just repetitions of what had once happened. Thankfully, he found his way and opened a path towards you. Apollo found a way to forgive himself and heal; any scars that remained, you soothed them with your sweet presence.
#maría's shared dreams☆。゚✧#apollo x reader#apollo x y/n#apollo x you#pjo hoo toa#lester papadopoulos x you#lester papadopoulos x reader#lester papadopoulos#pjo#lester papadopoulos x y/n#trials of apollo
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stop caring about what others think: the law perspective
hi, everyone! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
i've thought about writing this post for a while, especially since this is a mindset that i am freeing myself from. i know i'm not the only one who grew up in the state of being a people pleaser, so this is for people who were programmed to neglect their own desires and give in to pressure from family, friends, and society.
the other day, my mom noticed that i had a really long gray strand of hair. i didn't believe her at first, but when she pulled it out and showed it to me, i was shocked. it looked like it had been there for months, and i wondered to myself what i did for this to happen.
seth said that your physical body is a reflection of your beliefs, or your dominant dwelling state. if you notice that there is something "wrong" with your body, then you must first look into your thoughts and emotions over the last few weeks, months, etc.
Physical symptoms are communications from the inner self, indications that we are making mental errors of one kind or another. ♡ Seth (channeled by Jane Roberts), The Seth Material
after seeing that gray hair, i knew that it was because of stress. okay, what was i stressed about? i started looking back into what i had dwelt on over the last few months, and i realized that i was stressed out about a lot of things. what stood out, though, was my inner conversations about my family. i was mainly dwelling on what my family thought of me, whether i was worthy of their approval or not, if they were proud of me, etc.
in other words, i cared way too much about how they think and feel about me that it had translated to not only having that long gray strand of hair, it also translated to other physical symptoms (chronic fatigue, chest pain, rashes).
and not only did it translate to those physical symptoms, it also translated to my thoughts, emotions, and the events i was experiencing in the 3D. in other words, everything out here is a reflection of your inner state of being. the cause is always inner.
i found myself feeling more anxious about talking to my parents, wishing that they didn't bring up anything that i really don't want to do. i even avoided them for a certain period of time because of this fear. and since the law is always working 24/7, they ended up bringing it up way more often since i frequently dwelt on what i don't want to hear.
thankfully, though, if i decide to do the opposite (i.e., dwelling on what i want to hear instead), then the 3D has no choice but to outpicture what i choose to experience with my inner senses.
when you consistently dwell on people pleasing, on your fears and doubts about your family, peers, etc., these are all going to be translated into your thoughts, your emotions, your physical body, your experience—everything.
when you care too much about what other people think, when you consent to someone else's limiting beliefs about reality, when you care about external validation, it is only hindering your infinite potential. you are only going to experience such limitations and unhappiness in your reality because you chose to try to fit into someone else's box.
As long as you're in a state of consciousness where you care so much what other people think and what their attitudes will be, you're not going to get very far. ♡ Reverend Ike, "Your Unconscious Fear of Success Affirmation"
i am not saying this as a way to fearmonger, or to blame, or to guilt-trip you. that's not my intention.
i am saying this for you to fully realize the connection between your inner world and your outer world.
nothing is random. nothing is an accident. you are always getting what you concentrated upon, and therefore, you ultimately have the responsibility to choose what reality you want to experience.
you're the only one that can free yourself from these states. no one else can do that for you.
the more you focus on being true to yourself, the more you shift your focus from making other people happy to letting yourself be happy, the more you're going to experience the happiness that comes with the authenticity of your unique being.
yes, it might feel hard to do so at first, but that's because we have made a habit out of wanting to please other people and being rewarded with external validation. it is what we have gotten used to since the beginning of our lives.
however, if you want to be the best version of yourself, you must give up all inner conversations about what other people think of you, that what they think about you matters. stop the arguments in your head. their thoughts and opinions about you have no power over you unless you choose to give it to them. it only matters what you think and feel about yourself.
your inner world is your refuge, where every single reality you desire to experience and is already promised to you exists in this present moment. everything is happening all at once. here, you can experience how it'd feel now that you are free to be yourself, to do whatever you want, to be unconditionally loved and accepted no matter what. you must make this a habit, and the more often you do this, the easier it gets.
I must consciously return to my new state constantly. I must feel its naturalness, like my own bed at night. At first the new state seems unnatural, like wearing a new suit or hat. Although no one knows your suit is new, you are so conscious of it you think everyone is looking at you. You are aware of its fit and its feeling until it becomes comfortable. So it is with your new state. At first you are conscious of its strangeness; but with regular wearing, the new state becomes comfortable, and its naturalness causes you to constantly return to it, thereby making it real. ♡ Neville Goddard, "The Perfect Image"
if you find yourself going back to those old inner conversations, don't beat yourself up over it. don't criticize yourself. it's okay. consciousness is the only reality, but you are also having a human experience. you are on your own journey, and this is completely normal. be gentle with yourself and let those thoughts and emotions pass over, as they are only temporary. then choose to continue to let yourself dwell on who you really want to be within.
to wrap this post up, i have a song recommendation :]
i stumbled upon this song on spotify by paris hilton which features rina sawayama (I LOVE HER BTW RAHHHHHH). perhaps the lyrics will resonate with you guys and allow yourselves to enter the feeling of being your authentic self.
#♡#loassumption#law of assumption#loablr#affirm and persist#loa tumblr#loa blog#spirituality#law of attraction#loattraction#manifesting#manifestation#imagination creates reality#self concept#self actualization#growth mindset#glow up#this has been in the drafts for a while#Spotify
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You're no good to me|| Batboys × No reader gender
Summary: Your relationship is wrong, you're not doing each other any good and you need to find a way to cope.
Characters: Damian Wayne, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Duke Thomas.
(DC masterlist)
Damian Wayne
He'd just walk away. Damian is so ingrained in the story of "being a bad person" that he would end the relationship immediately, believing that he's being the worst to you, even though it's clear how much the two of you are hurting each other. He would take full responsibility for all the fights, all the offenses. At a certain point he'll realize that he's hurt too, but he still thinks it's his fault.
Tim Drake
He's trying so hard to have you around. If Damian would leave immediately on realizing how bad things are, that wouldn't be the case with Tim, he believes he has to fight for it. All you've done is crash and burn? Okay, he can fix it, just give it some time. It would take Tim a long time to admit that you wouldn't work out. He'd also be ashamed of how hard he's trying. He wouldn't tell his family, friends, anyone, the excuse he'd give himself is "It's between us, no one needs to know", but in reality, he's just disappointed in himself for not being able to save your relationship.
Dick Grayson
He's lost. All the problems in your relationship were there from the start, you didn't love each other in the same way, the problem wasn't the intensity, it could never be, you were so dedicated to each other that even with the difficulties you started a relationship. The problem was the way you showed your love, which was very different from each other's personalities. The fact that it wasn't working out with a person he loved would cause him to start having major mood swings, and what was already bad would get worse. But the next thing you know, he's crawling to you apologizing (even for things that aren't his fault). He really doesn't know what to do and it would end in the worst possible way. He would take some drastic measure just to keep you away.
Jason Todd
He wouldn't admit it. Everything has changed recently, you don't look at each other the same way anymore, you don't love each other the same way anymore, and he wouldn't admit what's obvious, largely because this is a "silent ending", you haven't argued, you haven't broken trust with each other, you're just unhappy. How could he leave all those years and dedication behind for nothing? But he's not trying to rebuild your relationship either, he can see that there's nothing there. You were everything to Jason for so long, now he doesn't want to have anything.
Duke Thomas
He's the one who says "I get tired when I get sick and lose the strength to leave". It's not that he won't admit it, it's not that he denies it, it's not that he runs away, he just doesn't know what to do. He was so in love with you and now that's gone? He'll just stand there waiting for you to take the initiative, you can run away, fight, deny, just do something, because he won't do it.
#dc comics#jason todd#batfamily#jason todd x male reader#jason todd x reader#batboys#dick grayson#red hood#dc imagine#damian wayne × male reader#damian wayne × reader#tim drake × reader#tim drake × male reader#tim drake × fem reader#dick grayson × fem reader#dick grayson × male reader#dick grayson × reader#duke thomas#duke thomas × reader#jason todd headcanon#damian wayne headcanon#dick grayson headcanon#tim drake headcanon#dick grayson × you#batboys × reader#batboys headcanon#dc robin#red robin#damian wayne#tim drake
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Yandere 40K Guilliman is very interesting to me.
Because he’s just trying to find someone sane, someone who doesn’t fall into a religious fervour whenever they see him. Someone who can use common sense, an ability nearly 90% of the imperium seems to have lost.
But when he finds that person, someone who doesn’t immediately start sucking up to him in his presence, who will actually call him by his name, ‘Roboute’…..
Well then they’re his.
There going to be his reprieve, how he takes out all his anger and stress that’s accumulated from seeing the sorry state that the Imperium has become. He’ll release all that pent up aggression by fucking his new paramour unconscious. By taking brief breaks between his endless meetings with them in his lap, taking whatever liberties he wants with them.
There no other course of action. He is the Lord Commander of the Imperium, and if what he needs to handle the problems of the Imperium and lead them to victory is to have this one person stay by his side, then that’s what he’ll get.
It won’t be all bad, his paramour will be treated to an unpredcented life of luxury, all they have to do is ignore the fact they now solely belong to Guilliman and that there is no changing that fact of their new reality.
This is EXACTLY what I was hinting at with mentioning about 40k yandere Guilliman. His playfulness is still in there he wants to woo you like he normally would he's unhappy with how he has to get you by his side but he NEEDS an outlet! He needs someone to fixate on because he's running himself ragged.
He was in hell. As he was trapped in his armor most of the time... stuck with insane people all around him! Anyone who dared have some semblance of a spine around him were far too important for him to sink his teeth into. He was stuck... he was lonely... he was tired...
And then you came along. You were in awe but you kept it in check... you listened to him and unlike the fear and confusion at his more atheistic sentiments you hardly reacted simply replying "You're the God Emperor's son of course you don't worship him. Besides you know better than me." You were being humble and normally this would rouse such a playful response from him like a large cat playing with its meal. But he had no time for this.
You flitted in and out of his life and eventually his mind thinks of you often. Thinking over the words you say to him... thinking over the way you smile at him... the way you laugh; sometimes you even laugh completely unflatteringly much to your embarrassment. You accidentally seal your fate when you see him outside of his armor of Fate and the joy in your eyes as you gasp with delight, "Roboute! You're out of your armor." It was the first time since being allowed to call him Roboute that you used it.
You damned yourself by having your eyes sparkle seeing him out of armor... looking at him like a man...
You whimpered into his mouth as you try to wriggle free suddenly feeling the weight of his focus on you. Those blue eyes of his looking at everything like a mad man. He keeps apologizing as his face rubs against yours... rubs into your skin... you've seen this face a few times when he's pushed to his limit and you try to calm him down... you're crying by now... he keeps apologizing.
He needs this he tells you... he begs to a piece of comfort between your legs... perhaps if you knew what was to follow you wouldn't have been fooled by his just plea for feeling like a man. You might not have agreed to treat him as you have been... perhaps if you rejected his offer you'd still be free... you doubt so... you weren't anyone highly important that should you go missing things would collapse without you.
You're certain if anyone knew about you... they would simply thank you for your service to the Imperium.
@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog
@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy
@nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog
#yandere roboute guilliman#roboute guilliman#yandere ultramarine#tw: yandere#tw: abduction#insane hot man#warhammer 40k#reply#answer#yandere 40k guilliman#I saw this in my ask box and have been ITCHING to answer it#just I have been BUSY
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Stuck in one place - Kazuha
Gender neutral reader, Kazuha travels to Mondstadt and finds a person who lives in the wilderness, seemingly bored of everything in Mondstadt just looking the same. Unhappy ending
_
When he came to Mondstadt he made the mistake of visiting you - a person who lived in the wilderness of Mondstadt. He was intrigued when hearing of a mysterious "being". Nobody knew who you were, nor were there any missing people's signs up besides the travelers sibling.
He spent time with you, convincing you people made places interesting once he realised you were very introverted but you loved playing your guitar. The music was quite pretty, but ominous to anyone who bought into the rumours you were a deity who planned to kill anyone who got close.
Of course, Kazuha couldn't help but be curious. Perhaps you were like a siren by luring people in with your music, but Kazuha thought you were simply sad.
When you first met, you were immediately taken in by him. You couldn't help but find him attractive, his soft voice matching his appearance. He sat next to you, offering to befriend you because of your music interest.
He'd visit you every night he was in Mondstadt, which led to the inevitable catching proper feelings for him. Ones you hadn't known, ones to warm your chest. He always gave you something interesting to look forward to. He even took you into the town once to show you how many different personalities there are, which once again made you think you were in love.
The last day he was in Mondstadt, you confessed to him. In response, he gave you a reality check.
"I'm afraid I travel alone." Kazha replies.
"I can come with you, please." You insist, only to drop back upon seeing Kazuha become more uncomfortable with your insistence.
"...I can see why you fell for me - I'm the first human you interacted with in a while." When you hear this, you just feel very embarrassed. "I enjoyed our time together in Mondstadt, however I'd prefer to just be friends. I'm sorry, but I don't think I can look at anyone the way you look at me."
Nodding, you slowly turn around nd hunch over, head in your hand as you realise how desperate you have grown.
"Next time I visit Mondstadt, I would like to see you again."
"...Don't visit me again." You blankly reply, Kazuha looking down at his feet. "My time in this world is short, it wouldn't have worked."
"...What?"
"You heard the rumours of a land Siren, yes? Well, that's true - I don't know my origin, but this guitar is a large part of me. I have no family, no friends."
"Apart from-"
"No, even you aren't a friend. All you are trying to do is soften my rejection, that much is clear." You sigh, grasping your guitar. "I have been given orders to burn the guitar, destroy my lifeform. I just wanted to leave this world without any regrets - so thank you for confirming you will never look at me the way I look at you."
"Perhaps if I speak to the Acting Grand Master I can find a cure for...you..." Kazuha stops, noting you have already started to walk away.
He hears you start a fire, and he spots the orange gleam of light that erupts when you throw the guitar in. Kazuha runs up to see you one last time, and you look...neutral. you don't look relieved of sad, you're just there.
Well, not now that you were growing more difficult to see as more of your dorm gets burned in the fire.
The fire died down after some time, leaving behind the guitar strings and the pegs holding them to the one existent body. You are no longer here, Kazuha could tell.
Kazuha places the strings in a more visible slit, finding a stick and making a headstone for you before paying his respects, leaving your body to rest.
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more of the wips list
@cheetahing
shark-dick - a tale of narratives and severe misunderstandings
Ok this one will likely eventually be some flavor of dihua.
But it's basically continuing on the theme of narratives != reality, where I ask, "What if Jinyuan Alliance, and Di Feisheng in particular?"
Which, we know DFS isn't nearly as evil as the name Demon would suggest. But what else?
It starts with the idea of Jinyuan Alliance being the hive of scum and villiany and sexual deviance. Where it's the place where perverts go to roam free and wave their freak flag in a way polite society doesn't allow. Like, their poor prisoners! You'd be better off dead! Etc.
"So... you haven't? At all? Even when you're this old?" Fang Duobing asks with far more confusion than was warranted. Di Feisheng's eyes are closed as he cycles his energy through his meridians, his eyelashes arcing softly across his cheeks and his hair lifting and fluttering about as if buffeted from an invisible, spiraling wind. He doesn't respond beyond a faint but clearly disdainful snort. Offended, Fang Duobing points at him and demands, "So if shaoye grabs your- your jade rod, you're telling me you can just make the feeling go away?" A sharp brow twitching faintly, Di Feisheng immediately replies, "Yes." "I refuse to believe you." Really, Xiaobao? In Li Lianhua's opinion, if there was anyone who would take a largely ignored path to harness his youth's yang energy and efficiently turn himself into a high density cauldron of power, it would be Di Feisheng. The concept of taking sexual energy and transmuting it into something else was not a new one (there were entire schools of thought and exotic styles based around it), but this was an area largely ignored by earthly men and women for a reason -- only Di Feisheng could accidentally master systemic chastity out of annoyance that his adolescence was disrupting his focus. Li Lianhua carefully pours himself a cup a tea with perfectly steady hands and a blank mind. He can feel as Di Feisheng winds down his daily meditation - his energy slows and pulls inward and back, like the ocean's waves tugging lightly at bare toes as it withdraws at low tide. Li Lianhua should be impressed. He really should be. It was a great skill mastered at a very, very young age - a skill mastered without a teacher and without any understanding of what it could mean for Di Feisheng's future self. But instead, unexpectedly perverse words like "virgin" and "untouched" echo resonantly in the cavernous space between Li Lianhua's ears. Meanwhile, Di Feisheng has unexpectedly embarked on a wordy tale of something he personally witnessed. "I know a man who was prideful in his high energy and the size of his manhood. One day, we traveled together for a short time and was on a ship heading to [____] when he started arguing with a deckhand. The sailor insisted his reputation was too overblown. In a rage, my aquantance ripped open his pants and whipped out his cock --", Di Feisheng pauses and looks down at his arm, thoughtfully tracing a finger in the vicinity of his elbow, or maybe his armpit. Di Feisheng blandly continues, "--his cock comes out and he slaps it over the side of the ship's railing." (And the word cock coming out of his mouth makes both Fang Duobing and Li Lianhua twitch for different reasons.) Di Feisheng pauses again and looks sideways at nothing as he reaches his limit for words and struggles for more, "--Heaven was watching and was unhappy with him? There was a shark." "A-a shark?" "Big fish. Lots of teeth. It jumped out the water in a big arc the moment the meat came out and--- when it went back into the water, it took this aquaintence's cock with it." Fan Duobing's mouth had fallen open and remained open for the entirety of this telling. He shuts it with a snap. "It was a freak accident. But truly," Di Feisheng's brows arch questioningly. When there is no response, he says slyly, with great logic, "Why would I want anything to do with that?" Why indeed? Fang Duobing sits down. Li Lianhua has no response either, but not because he is struggling to decide whether this tale has any truth. It's because he realizes, with a sudden flood of fondness that he hides behind his tea, Lao Di may be inexperienced but he isn't innocent.
basically dfs is gonna fuck with fdb's brain about his 'innocence' for the foreseeable future. fdb is a 3-star intelligence against dfs' 5 stars. someone help him.
anyway.
#writing practice for fake royals#bastardz are writing#sorry this is an extremely rough draft of this bit#i have no idea what ppl called the penis in ancient china - im open to suggestions#fic meme#title tag game
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In response to the "trad wife" who slipped into the polyamory tags:
Consider me a "trad wife". I'm a stay at home mom, married for a long time. I take care of the kiddo, the housework, most of the cooking. I bake bread and pies for the holidays, we have cutesy matching outfits for family photos. To an outsider we're a picturesque "normal" family.
My husband and I love each other, we're each other's best friends, partners. We're "satisfied" as you put it but more than that, were extremely happy together. We've built a life together, raise a kiddo, have a lovely home.
We're also non-monogamous and practice polyamory. Not because "I'm not enough," or because "he's not enough". It's not because we're unhappy, or bored, or have a desire to "cheat".
To put it simply, we love love, and we love people. We love intimate relationships. With each other, with friends, with people who are more than friends. We simply chose not to put restrictions when it comes to how other relationships evolve.
I hope you're happy in your monogamous marriage. That's great. Wonderful. Everyone deserves happy, healthy, wonderful relationships.
But to accuse our relationship dynamics of being "toxic" or "unveiled cheating" is pure ignorance on your part. To say it's women's way of having "back up" options, is degrading.
Cheating would imply dishonesty or unfairness. The reality is we're honest, communicate about everything, prevent unfairness and navigate all the same things most relationships do.
My marriage is enough, and we're secure enough in our relationship to not be afraid of how other relationships may evolve. Whether it's simply a friendship, a sexual exploration, or a deeply intimate connection. I love that my husband is a wonderful, loving, funny human being and that others can experience those wonderful parts of him. I'm a loving, creative, sexual, playful, caring person, and I love that I can share those parts of myself with others - freely, without judgment, without fear of losing my husband because of it.
My relationships can grow and evolve freely. The only difference in my monogamous relationships was that I had to deny any deep feelings I may have had for another person - I couldn't express my love for my best friend of 15 years. My monogamous (now ex) husband at the time got angry when I verbally expressed my feelings to him about her. He became jealous, suspicious, and angry any time I talked to my friend. I never cheated on him, and I never have or would cheat on anyone.
I've since realized I want the freedom to tell friends and people I'm close to that I love them, that I think they're beautiful. I want to be able to hug them without being accused of betraying someone's trust. I want to be able to kiss them if it authentically feels right in the moment - to express my love in any way that feels authentic. And I want my (now) husband to have that freedom too, without fear of me resenting him for it.
Monogamy maybe right and wonderful for you. Non-Monogamy and Polyamory are right for me.
You know what they say about assumptions?
#polyamory#ethical non monogamy#polyamorous#polyamorous relationships#polyam#poly relationship#polyam dating#polyam life#polyamourous#nonmonogamy
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heres a very simple explanation on what Law Of Assumption is because you seem a bit confused:
The way you speak to yourself has a powerful impact on your mental and emotional state. If you constantly tell yourself negative things like, "My life is terrible, I hate myself, I'm so unhappy," you'll likely feel exactly that—unhappy and insecure.
However, if you start to replace those thoughts with positive affirmations, like "My life is beautiful, I love myself, and I'm happy," you'll begin to see that positivity reflected in your life. This is essentially what the law of assumption is all about: your inner dialogue shapes your reality.
That's really all there is to it—it's simple. We all have thoughts that mirror our emotions and the state of our lives. The key is learning to shift those thoughts toward something that aligns with the life you desire.
I’m not sure how any of this—just thinking positively—could be considered a cult.
Oh, this is a simple explanation, all right. In fact, it's so simple that it's downright dishonest.
See, if this was really all that you people were teaching, I wouldn't have a problem with it. But I know, and I'm pretty sure you know, that the Law of Assumption goes a little bit beyond this.
Let's start with the concept of revision. In The Pruning Shears of Revision, Neville Goddard wrote about this whole thing he did, where if the day didn't go his way he'd go and imagine it happening differently. He basically claimed you could change your whole life with it. Now, lots of Law of Assumption bloggers are claiming that you can use this technique to change everything from bad grades to your ethnicity and the country you were born in. At least one person even claimed that you could use revision to bring back the dead.
Let's talk about Everyone Is You Pushed Out. In that very same book, Goddard claimed that "you are absolutely responsible for every being you meet in this world." That's an exact quote. He claims that you can change "evil" people with this. And now, there are Law of Assumption bloggers who take Goddard at his word and go around claiming that you can change literally anyone, including longtime abusers, and it's basically your fault if they don't change. (This is not to say that abusers can't ever change, but it takes a whole lot more than one person believing in it hard enough.)
Let's also talk about the numerous LOA blogs repeating the claim that the 4D (your imagination) is the true reality, or at least more real than the 3D (the physical world), and that "the 3D has no choice but to conform to the 4D." Literally how the fuck do you (general you) know this? You don't. You (still general you) just believe it's true because somebody said it to you in a really confident-sounding tone. Once you actually stop and think about this claim for a few minutes, it totally falls apart. Just for one example, if the "3D" actually worked like this, then we should all be living in a universe where the sun rotated over a flat earth, because nobody would have any reason to start thinking that the world was round and rotated around the sun. The fact that the physical world constantly behaves counterintuitively to our expectations is proof that the 3D doesn't really give a damn what you think.
Again, if all you people were doing was what you described in your message, then I wouldn't have a problem, and we wouldn't be here. But we both know that the LOA encompasses a little more than what you're describing, and that's why we're here.
To anyone reading this: If you are leaving or questioning the Law of Assumption and need help, please see this post.
#answered#anonsense#loa#loassumption#law of assumption#loa community#loablr#loa tumblr#neville goddard#eiypo#everyone is you pushed out#revision
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Prompt: "Do we have to get out of bed?"
Pairing: Rook hunt x GN!Reader/Prefect/Yuu
Genre: Fluff
TW: The characters are aged up, use of "mama" as a gender neutral term for a parent.
AN: It's time for the man, the myth, the legend himself: Rook! Ngl, this hunter gave me a ton of trouble with the fic. I'm still a bit unhappy with this, since I know it isn't one of my best works, but it is something. Happy birthday to everyone's favorite hunter <3 I hope you enjoy ^^ (PS: at one point, the reader is referred to as "mama". It is supposed to be read as a gender neutral term for a parent. If anyone who's fluent in French knows an actual gender neutral term for parent, please let me know ^^)
You opened your eyes to the chirping of birds outside your room, and the feeling of strong, warm arms around your middle. The warmth behind your body shifted slightly, pulling you closer and making you smile.
"Rook."
The blonde haired man hummed, letting you know that he was awake. Soft lips graced your neck with careful and slow kisses, a routine he performed daily as a sign of his love.
You turned in his hold, eyes softening as they met those of your husband. Rook smiled at you.
"Bonjour, mon amour," he hummed, leaning slightly to place yet another kiss, this time at your lips. Pulling away, he continued speaking in that slightly raspy tone that he always got in the morning, "Did you sleep well?"
You nodded, absentmindedly running your fingers over the slight stubble on his face. Rook let you do as you pleased, his eyes not straying a moment away from yours.
The sliver of sunlight coming in through the gap between the curtains framed the soft domestic scene that was your reality. You knew there were things to do, responsibilities of real life that would have you be separated from the arms of your beloved husband soon enough (a crime, truly). But these precious few moments, ones Rook insisted on experiencing every morning, gave you all the energy you would need to complete your daily tasks and come back to your husband's loving embrace each night.
After a few minutes of just staring at each other in content silence, you asked, "What are your plans for today?" Rook sighed, closing his eyes and burrowing in your hair. "I'm taking the twins to visit maman et papa. They've been asking to see them lately."
"Have you told them that they will be here for Christmas?"
"I did, but they were insistent," Rook hummed, fingers making lazy circles on your hip. "Will you be joining us, my dear?"
"I would love to, but there's some things I must get done today. And if you're taking the kids out of the house then I can buy their gifts and hide them."
"Ah."
"Give my regards to mom and dad, hm?"
"Of course mon amour."
You smiled, then made a move to get up.
Rook's hold on you tightened, and he pulled you right back where you started, body flush against him. Laughter left you shaking in his arms slightly. "Rook, we need to get up."
"Must we? Surely a few more minutes with me would not hurt~"
Before you could reply that yes, you two did need to leave the bed, a knock sounded on the door before it was opened, and in ran your two children, the apples of your eyes.
The boy immediately jumped onto your bed, shaking an amused Rook, "Papa! Papa wake up! We gotta go!" The blonde man let out a chuckle, letting go of you to take your son in his arms and tickle him. Peals of laughter left both son and father as they engaged in some play-fighting, Rook making sure not to be too rough with his child.
Your daughter, on the other hand, calmly stood near your side of the bed, looking at you with a sleepy smile. The calmer counterpart to her excitable brother, she gently tapped your arm with her palm. "Morning mama."
You scooped her up in your arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead as you sat her on your lap. "Morning sweetie."
Both of you watched the boys as they played around, messing up the bedsheets in their fun. Your daughter cheered her father on, and the betrayed look your son sent to his twin had you laughing.
What a perfect start to a perfect day, for the perfect family you had made with the love of your life.
Back to Masterlist...
#ice writes#twst writing#twst#twst rook hunt#rook hunt#rook x reader#rook x mc#rook x yuu#merry twstmas event#400 follower event#twisted wonderland
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Weekend links
My posts
I have been amorphously unwell (migraines, dizziness, aches) this week, which is super great. I am, in fact, daunted by the complexities and unknowns.
See "Personal tag of the week" at the bottom for updates on the Tumblr happenings.
Reblogs of interest
Thousands of Israelis protest in Tel Aviv, demanding a hostage release/ceasefire deal and new elections.
I never know how to segue from a serious news item.
Theseus liveblogs the labyrinth, and it’s heartbreaking.
Before hbomberguy was going after plagiarism, he was playing Donkey Kong for trans rights.
“to touch is to interact, and when you put your hand on your dog the universe does not know that you are separate”
The universe knows you are separate from this cat’s Absolute Terror Field
Cats named Pigeon
The most dramatic cat
Figure out what starts your engine and ride the waves of your brain
This is not van fundamentalism
Lawful good werebears
The Godmother is not committed to the kindness
Escape room employees reveal the worst, or best, things they’ve seen on the job.
“So I explained to him the story of ‘Alice’s Restaurant,’ and he began to get MAD”
It seems that y’all do not understand that the Better Call Saul ads are just how we live in the US, and that I pass five Alexander Shunnarah billboards just to get a quesadilla.
1) Don’t take your native animals for granted. 2) This jay is the bluebird of happiness, apparently.
Wisdom from a Tumblr longtimer
Benign chain posts: the Money Garf
Video
Every now and then I fall apaaaaaart
Click through for a massive gothic rock playlist on YouTube
It’s a great dance contest entry--but then they tell you it’s also randomly-paired improv
Capybara capybara (capybara)
The sacred texts
You have not seen a sacred internet text until you have seen the Lolrus (2006)
Personal tag of the week
“the happenings” is my tag for all internet platform bullshit. This week, it’s Tumblr, as CEO Matt Mullenweg lost his shit and started harassing a trans user (including on another platform). This is a factual explanation early in the week of what happened and how it started:
predstrogen (the first blog) was allegedly deleted for “sexually explicit material” despite any posts that may have been labelled as such being marked with a community label and her blog recently being manually approved as NOT containing adult content. she also talks in this post, as well as here, about how she has had a support ticket open for several months for harassment she was receiving that has not been dealt with
the CEO of tumblr made a post wherin he publicly aired information regarding her deletion and threatened legal action against her , showing examples of the alleged death threats where no actual threats were made and telling people in the replies to just leave if they were unhappy with the moderation of the site
Specifically, he was upset by the expressed wish that he perish in a car covered in hammers that would explode multiple times, a serious threat that could surely come to fruition in reality. If you can't tell that I'm being sarcastic, congratulations, you're CEO material.
It spiraled from there, but suffice it to say, it ended with trans employees posting on the Staff account (reblog here with commentaries):
The reality of predstrogen’s suspension was not accurately conveyed, and made it seem like we were reaching for opportunities to ban trans feminine people on the platform. This is not the case. The example comment shared in the post linked above does not meet our definition of a realistic threat of violence, and was not the deciding factor in the account suspension. Matt thereafter failed to recognize the harm to the community as a result of this suspension. Matt does not speak on behalf of the LGBTQ+ people who help run Tumblr or Automattic, and we were not consulted in the construction of a response to these events.
While the post is sincerely emotional and brave, the real chess move is this part:
We appreciate the space we have been given to express our concerns and dissent, and we are thankful that Matt’s (and Automattic’s) strong commitment to freedom of expression has facilitated it. We will continue to fight to make Tumblr safe for us all.
Matt Mullenweg now either has to nod and go, “Yeah, yeah... I’m a great guy committed to freedom...” Or he can, I don’t know, shut the site down in a fit of defiant pique? All I’m going to say about this is that the day all this first went down, I started archiving any posts I’d put significant effort into last year, and I’ll be crossposting them on Dreamwidth and Patreon. I don’t want to lose Tumblr’s culture and unique platform--I mean, I think the Weekend Links themselves make a case for the fact that there is nothing else like Tumblr on the internet. And shutting down is not even necessarily the most likely outcome--but I’m not gonna be caught unprepared, either.
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Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist: What I Wish Someone Had Told Me About Academic Burnout
Currently writing this from my favorite corner of the library at 1 AM, surrounded by empty coffee cups and half-finished to-do lists. If you're also here – physically or metaphorically – this post is for you.
The Breaking Point
Last week, I:
Pulled three all-nighters
Cried in the bathroom between classes
Forgot to eat actual meals for two days
Drank enough coffee to fuel a small country
Had a breakdown over a B+
Ignored approximately 47 texts from friends
Convinced myself I was failing at life
And then I realized: this isn't normal. This isn't okay. And I'm definitely not alone.
The Pressure We're Under
Let's be real about what we're juggling:
5+ classes with endless assignments
Internship applications
Club responsibilities
Part-time jobs
Social life maintenance
Basic human needs (allegedly)
Family expectations
Our own impossible standards
Signs of Burnout I Ignored
Looking back, the red flags were screaming:
Constant exhaustion (but unable to sleep)
Sunday night panic attacks
Zero motivation for things I used to love
Living on caffeine and protein bars
Emotional breakdowns over minor setbacks
Feeling disconnected from friends
That weird eye twitch that wouldn't go away
The Toxic Academic Culture No One Talks About
We normalize:
"I'll sleep when I'm dead"
Competing over who's more stressed
Skipping meals to study
Feeling guilty for taking breaks
Measuring our worth by our GPA
Sacrificing mental health for grades
Working ourselves sick
What Actually Helped Me
Real strategies that made a difference:
Setting non-negotiable rest times
No studying after 11 PM
One full day off per week
Actual lunch breaks (revolutionary, I know)
2. Creating study boundaries
50 minutes of work, 10-minute breaks
No studying in bed
Phone on "Do Not Disturb"
Designated study spots
3. Taking care of my body
Keeping snacks in my backpack
Water bottle always with me
Walking between classes instead of rushing
Actually using my gym membership
The Reality Check I Needed
Truth bombs I'm learning:
No grade is worth your mental health
You can't pour from an empty cup
Success isn't measured by exhaustion
Your worth isn't your productivity
Rest is productive
B's get degrees (and that's okay!)
Permission Slips We All Need
It's okay to:
Take a mental health day
Ask for extensions when needed
Say no to extra commitments
Not be the perfect student
Change your major if you're unhappy
Prioritize sleep over studying
Ask for help
What Recovery Looks Like
Small wins I'm celebrating:
Actually eating three meals a day
Sleeping more than 4 hours
Taking weekends off
Setting boundaries with study groups
Deleting social media during finals
Learning to say "no"
Accepting that good enough is enough
Practical Steps I'm Taking
My new non-negotiables:
No all-nighters (they don't work anyway)
Regular meal times
Phone-free study blocks
Weekly planning sessions
Morning routine that isn't just coffee
Therapy appointments
Exercise that feels good
To Anyone Struggling
Remember:
Your grades don't define you
This phase of life is temporary
Everyone's path is different
It's okay to take breaks
You're doing better than you think
Asking for help is strength
You matter more than your GPA
Moving Forward
I'm learning that:
Success looks different for everyone
Balance isn't perfect
Rest is necessary
Breaks make you more productive
Health comes first
Some things can wait
You're not falling behind
The Plot Twist
Maybe the real achievement isn't getting straight A's while running three clubs and maintaining a perfect Instagram feed. Maybe it's learning to take care of yourself while chasing your dreams.
#student life#mental health#college life#burn out#self care#academic stress#student struggles#mental health awareness#college student#studygram#real talk#burnout recovery#study break#college advice#academic burnout#self love#student well being#college blogging#mental health matters#balance
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Watching him fade away;
Part 1
Part 2
Genre: smut, angst
Warnings for this chapter: smut, a lot of angst and desperation, dacryphilia, dirty talk (beom calls reader a slut etc..), no protection (don’t do this), Slight breath play, overstimulating, oral(f receiving) , I think thats it!
A/n: hey so, I’m making a part two I hope the few people who saw part 1 will be satisfied with this! ^^ Enjoy!
Reminder: this doesn’t portray the members in real life at all.
"Listen y/n , I'm not sure of what I can say if I'm being honest here... First of all, stop crying, please... I'm not going anywhere, I'm right here with you."
It may seem like a harsh thing to say but he had the sweetest voice possible and the sweetest eyes, you knew he meant no harm in any way. Without releasing the tight grip you had on his shirt, and while your head was still on his chest, which smelled like his usual cologne, you eventually calmed down. Your eyes and face were still humid but no tears were filling them anymore.
"I think I respect you and appreciate you enough to tell you the truth y/n, I don't think I feel the same. I'm sorry if I lead you on, it wasn't my intention. It was all just in the heat of the moment, I didn't think it was serious. I thought not contacting you anymore wouldn't have bothered you. I shouldn't have assumed, sorry". He regretfully said, not letting himself feel for you, scared of everything going wrong. Beomgyu didn’t want to keep things casual, in fact he ached to know you more.
Sadly this was his reality, and couldn’t bring himself to let you in his heart, giving you the opportunity to break it. It was a defense mechanism and he couldn’t go against it.
His heart throbbed in pain the whole night seeing you break down like this, but he couldn’t help it. He felt it was best to protect himself and , at the same time, protect you from his doubts and real feelings.
Of course you knew none of that.
You definitely saw his response coming but it didn't make it any less painful to hear. he didn't want you back, this is, has always been, and will always be unrequited love. He was all too good for you, adorable, fun, intelligent, handsome, and good in bed. A girl like you could never interest him, you were selfish unhappy, and insecure. Even though he somehow changed you, you still remained the same deep inside, someone unlovable even for Beomgyu.
Without a warning tears came again, this time it was desperation that filled your whole self, disgust, and pity. You didn't quite whine and hiccup, like earlier, you cried to yourself, feeling ashamed. Your grip became loose and Beomgyu didn't move, patting your head while hugging you tight.
You truly didn't deserve any of him. You hated that he was still so kind to you? you couldn't even hate him. At this point the only person you could possibly hate is yourself.
"It's, it's fine you can.. let me go now" You said this with bitterness in your mouth, not wanting to ever leave his embrace.
"But can you grant me one last wish before I leave? I promise I'll never bother you after this."
"I, uh, I mean sure y/n, but-", his sentence was cut short, you shushed him softly, you knew he was going to say how he doesn't mind seeing you again, but for you, it was a bad idea, you were just going to fall deeper for him.
"I know what you want to say Beomgyu, but this will be the last time we will purposefully be seeing each other, I don't want to hurt myself anymore, I hope you get it"
"I do"
"Then could you please make this last meeting the best we've ever had?"
You weren't sure about this but it was definitely worth a try. He chuckled lowly and said "You're really a slut, aren't you? All you can think is about my dick? Pathetic, and here I thought this was serious."
The shame you felt was overcome by the sheer excitement you felt, if this was going to be the last, then at least make it worth it.
Beomgyu went on to lift you up, princess style, not saying anything. You looked up , into his lust filled eyes through your eyelashes. When you arrived at his bedroom, you didn’t even get the time to look around and grasp the new surroundings, as he harshly put his lips against yours.
He was on top of you for a few seconds , but then flipped you around to sit on him, more precisely on his crotch. You gasped at the feeling of his semi hard dick against your hot cunt.
“Tell me exactly what you want from me”
He said harshly, while rocking his hips into yours, you were already softly whimpering at the friction, unable to control yourself you roll your hips to match his pace as you throw your head back and hold his shoulders for support.
“I think I asked a question, didn’t I? Answer me now you desperate slut”
You moaned at the way he was treating you and answer in a whisper that he still heard
“I want you.. Please make me feel good , fill me up, please”
You practically begged him. Seeing you so desperate for his cock made beomgyu twitch in his pants, wanting to absolutely wreck you and make a mess of you. He wants to see you cry and beg endlessly.
He smiled a bit before going back to your lips, easing his tongue into your mouth. You were sloppily making out, while hips rocked against yours and his hand grabbed at your ass. You let some moans escape your lips. You wanted more. And it’s like he read your mind because he easily flipped you over, took your little dress off from you, and stared at you, with what seemed for a split second affection.
You didn’t have time to think much about it because as soon as the dress was tossed somewhere on the floor, he immediately went down toward your awaiting and dripping pussy. He swiftly teased you with his fingers, sliding them softly along your slit and your clit on top of the white fabric. He formed circles with his middle finger around your clit, and a wet patch was starting to form on your panties. He then licked up your pussy, with his tongue flat, making you whimper. This went on for a little, he endlessly teased you and licked you through your lace underwear. You couldn’t bear it anymore, your eyes were watering with frustration and you said
“Beomgyu stop teasing me..! Please… I want you in me”
He smiled, removing your panties harshly, almost ripping them off. And within a second he was eating you out like he never did. You immediately went to grab his hair and moaned as he licked at your clit. It was very wet, and he introduced two fingers into you. He switched from flat licks to sucking on your clit to stimulating it extremely fastly all while pumping his fingers in and out of you.
You were a moaning mess, calling out his name and grasping his hair to pull him closer. The stimulation was so good that you started closing your legs on him, not being able to handle it. But with his free hand, he pulled your legs apart, and mumbled on your pussy something along the lines of “stop moving”.
You were getting closer and closer, moans getting louder and his name coming out more and more. With him touching you how he knew you loved. And he could feel you clenching around his fingers and grabbing harder at his hair. It was his sign to halt. He sucked at your clit one last time and got up from between your legs. You were shocked and your eyes were wide. Not understanding why he stopped as you were so close, you were so frustrated you felt your eyes water once again.
Which was exactly what he wanted.
He grinned seeing you cry out of frustration, seeing how good he made you feel and how you already looked fucked out with your messy hair, swollen lips, and mascara running down your cheeks. He couldn’t resist the urge and kissed you. He grabbed your neck harshly with one hand, choking you slightly while the other hand unclasped your bra to feel up your boobs. You lean into the kiss and the slight shortcoming of air made you even more hungry for him.
“Get on all fours for me whore”
It was unexpected but you didn’t fail to obey. Going on all fours, exposing yourself fully to him. You arched your back and awaited his touch. Then you felt a harsh slap to your ass. You moaned out in pain and pleasure.
“You obey me so well hm? Good girl. I see you even arched your back for me? Are you that excited?”
You didn’t answer, mind all too fuzzy to even know what to say. Then a second slap to your ass came.
“Didn’t I tell you, when I ask you a question you answer, and here I thought you were good for me. You fucking whore. Are you so impatient for my dick that you can’t even think?”
He scoffed, and you answered before he could slap you again.
“m’ sorry… m’ so excited.. want you so bad gyu please I need you”
He felt himself get as hard as a rock at the nickname and the begging while tears rolled down your cheeks. He himself was getting worked up.
He removed his pants and his boxers, and his shirt. While you were still on all fours for him.
“Are you ready doll?”
The sudden nickname made you melt as you hummed a yes in response. He didn’t wait much longer before he spat on his dick and pumped himself a few times. You were already dripping so there was no need for more lube. He slowly eased himself into you as you moaned loudly “beomgyu ah… oh my god so big!”. He felt proud and eventually bottomed out, moaning at the feeling. “You like it huh? My dick fills you up so well. I’m the only one who can make you feel like this understood slut?”, you didn’t even think about the true meaning of this sentence and whimpered while saying loads of yes.
He slowly started to fuck you, grabbing at your waist. Then he suddenly fastened the pace and fucked harshly into you, slapping your ass with force. You moaned at every move he made, not being able to think at all. Calling out his name, as the only thing you could remember right now. Beomgyu is all that filled your mind. “Ah.. so good for me, so tight and wet” beomgyu let out. He then grabbed a fistful of your hair to pull your head back so he could kiss you. It was passionate and filthy, spit coating your lips and around it. He swallowed all your moans like it was the sweetest drink ever. Then he went on to mark you up, leaving hickeys down your neck and back, bite marks as well. He leaned forward and grabbed your boobs, flicking and twisting your nipples and his pace never faltered. He kept slamming into you with no mercy. You were a screaming mess, crying overwhelmed with pleasure and stimulation, you couldn’t even stand with your arms. Beomgyu noticed this and flipped you around, never getting fully out of your dripping pussy, filled with a mix of his precum, spit, and your juices. He got on top of you, putting your legs around his waist as he continues his pace. You hook your arms around his back, scratching him without even noticing. Both of your moans fill the room and you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. At this point, your makeup is long gone and you can’t stop crying while screaming his name. You manage to babble out “m’coming!!”. Before he slams harshly into you and rubs at your clit, he says “come for me doll”, he pushes you over the edge and you feel yourself exploding on him, completely dick drunk, melting by his touch. And needless to say, he loves it, he wrecked you and you feel so good coming around his hard length. He continues ramming into you chasing his own release. You feel extremely overstimulated and feel a second orgasm washing over you as you can’t even say anything, just cry his name out. And he comes into you as you come for the second time. He rides out both of your orgasms by slowing his pace and kissing you softly. Weirdly enough, you immediately doze off to sleep, maybe passing out from exhaustion.
You hear background ruffling and you open your eyes, it’s still night time but you’re clothed in an unknown shirt. You see him picking out a jogging and walking towards what seems to be a shower. You want to reach your hand out to him but you’re too tired. He enters the shower and closes the door behind him. Without noticing you. You feel clean down there but still sticky. You want to take a shower as well. But truthfully you don’t want to go further than sex. Going in the shower with him seems like disregarding his feelings for you. But you can’t help yourself. You’re selfish and you know it.
You knock at the door and call his name lowly. You hear the water stop, and him saying “yeah? You can enter the room y/n I don’t think I have anything to hide”, he chuckles and you do too. For a second you feel a connection with him, you feel like this is intimate and that you’re special. You quickly discard that thought tho.
You walk in and see him rubbing soap on himself. He explains that you passed out after it so he cleaned you up with a damp towel and put you in one of his shirts. You slept for a good while as he had the time to pick up your clothes and put them in the washer before wanting to shower.
You find yourself smiling at the action.
But you know it’s over now.
You know that the marks on your body will eventually fade and the ones on his back as well.
So you decide to rip off the bandage and move on with your life.
“Thank you beomgyu, for everything truly. I enjoyed every moment I spent with you, from the sex to the split moment where I got to know you. Thank you for making me feel special even just a tad bit. I won’t be mad at you because you don’t like me back. I understand. I hope you find someone that makes you as happy as you made me, you truly deserve it.” you laughed a bit before continuing “I’ll be stealing one of your pants, but don’t worry I’ll give it back to you, you can give me back my underwear as well then. Thank you so much for tonight. Goodbye".
With that, you turn your back to him, as you try to move your legs to leave, and you're not sure if it's because you're exhausted or because you really don't want to leave; perhaps a mix of both. But you can't make the move. Tears well up in your eyes and a lump grows again in your throat. You try your best to keep it in until you muster up the strength to leave. And as you make a step towards the door, you feel a wet hand grabbing yours.
You shockingly turn your head to look behind you, only to be met with an equally as sad and confused beomgyu.
You stare at him as tears flow down your cheeks and his, you don't get it and neither does he, but eventually, he lets go of you. And you understand that he took the step and him letting go of you meant that it was officially done. You turn around to the door once again, and you start to leave. As you walk out the door, you think you hear a whisper of beomgyu saying "sorry..i'm sorry"
You don't try to get why he is sorry and simply leave. You get it, it's over.
You walk out of his house, and the next day, it's like nothing ever happened. He still lingers your thoughts when it's especially cold outside, but that's it. The only time you'll ever meet again will be to get your stuff back. But will that day ever come?
It's been about 1 week and a half, and you think to yourself that the day will never come. So, you simply put his stuff on a shelf in your apartment, a small sign that you're still awaiting his call that may never come.
Beomgyu is lost deep in thought and tries to let go of you, he wants to forget it all. He knows you mean no wrong, but he's still scared. You never leave his mind, but he's never going to call.
You're now both unknowingly waiting for a love that will never occur. All you can do is watch the other from afar wondering how their loving embrace would feel like.
Not everything ends up like you wish.
#beomgyu smut#beomgyu x reader#choi beomgyu smut#txt hard hours#txt x reader#beomgyu#angst#txt angst#beomgyu angst#no comfort#txt smut#smut#love
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🍂: Interview with a Boundless Candidate || dolls, boundless, creativity, transformations, saints, cute?, sorry to the confused
"Please state your name for the record."
"..."
"Nothing?"
"names are...well, they can't be self-assigned."
"Good catch. Sorry about the trick question, but you understand why we have to make you jump through all these hoops."
"it's fine."
"How long have you lived as a doll?"
"my whole life. or, well, maybe that's just how i've been treated."
"How you've been treated?"
"sorry, how this one has been treated."
"So the whole world treats you like a doll?"
"more or less, this one supposes."
"But how long has it been since you decided to just accept it? To stop fighting back and just give up your personhood?"
"it did not make the decision; this is...it's just the way it is. the way it's always been."
"Mm, fair. Dolls don't choose."
"dolls don't choose."
"And you believe that you'll be happier as a doll?"
"i...it has never really...understood the concept of happiness."
"You're unhappy being treated this way?"
"this one has never seen happiness as attainable."
"But you need this to feel comfortable?"
"no, not really."
"Then what exactly do you expect to get out of this?"
"congruence. alignment of expectations and reality."
"My point is, what do YOU want out of this? You, not the people around you."
"...this one does not want anything."
"Rather not say?"
"no."
"Well, let me take a stab at it. You just want to feel wanted. Want to be given worth, want to be a valued pet, a cherished possession, because you can't find any self-worth, so you need extrinsic reassurance your life has purpose and meaning."
"..."
"You're afraid of responsibility. Afraid of agency. Afraid of fucking up your own life any more than you already have. You'd rather a Witch, or even a human, fuck it up for you. At least it wouldn't be your fault, then; at least you could pretend you're worth shit."
"..."
"Well let me tell you something, kiddo; those are bad fucking reasons to throw away your humanity. Because, hate to break it to you, but you aren't worth shit just because someone likes you."
"it's not like that. not for this one."
"No? Then why don't you tell me what it is, hm?"
"it's just...well, efficient."
"Efficient?"
"i can't stand it. this one cannot stand it. it wastes so much time worrying about what to do, what not to do, prioritizing and tracking and deciding."
"You're looking for...what exactly?"
"this one has value; it is certain of it. it is capable of great things and has several useful skills. time management is not one of them. it's greatest fear is that it will waste its entire existence shaving yaks."
"Shaving...yaks?"
"it simply wishes to be able to work without the cruft of life getting in the way. without wasting its time worrying about what it should be doing at any given time."
"...So you want a manager, not a master."
"this one wants a scrum master."
"..."
Interviewer Comments: NOT THE WORST REASON I'VE HEARD
Verdict: ACCEPTED
~🍂
#empty spaces#microfiction#fiction#dollposting#dolls#boundless#creativity#transformations#saints#cute?#sorry to the confused
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moar made-up thoughts about dd's thoughts
Some of the replies on my previous post left me re-evaluating, and I don't know that I was incredibly effective at what I meant to communicate (honestly, that is really frustrating for me). So I just want to clarify and maybe add some context.
I assume it goes without saying that everybody in turtleland adores dd and gg and that we think dd is a sweetie-pie (I can't conceive of being a turtle without that belief). And as a group, dd and gg's sweet moments get highlighted a lot, which I adore. These posts I have on dd are more about stuff I don't see discussed quite as much and they're not meant to encapsulate all that dd is because, wow that's a lot. For the previous post, I'd been thinking a lot about dd's mentality and how he approaches things, as seen in SDC, because his captaining style seems really distinct in a way I wanted to dig into.
Honestly, we've known dd for years at this point, and he's grown and changed throughout that time. He's been influenced by gg and by other friends and mentors. And like most people, how he acts is variable and dependent on context.
I do think dd was sometimes thoughtless when younger, but I don't think that's anything out of the ordinary for his age at the time, and I think he's grown out of it. In any case, it was never mean-spirited. Still, I think the way he expresses his feelings is pretty reserved and that he's not incredibly prone to sentimental gestures, like the gifts he sent Yang Kai. I think he can be thoughtful in that he's responsive when people indicate what they want, but I don't think he's the type to think up a gift idea on his own. Given that Yang Kai actually knows the guy and said as such, I don't think it's too far off-base to say that. I honestly think he probably gets help from gg with that sort of stuff, and he's likely to have gotten better at it as a result. But dd has never struck me as a sentimental guy.
(though with the captain gifts, I have no idea the logistics of how those worked, and I suspect, like most things on reality shows, that production assistants helped with suggestions and such)
I think he's a fantastic captain! I don't think I said that, because it's one of those things I assume goes without saying, especially as it's often said as such in turtledom. I think even back to Produce 101 when he was mentoring the young girls who were fawning over him. He did the cutesy dance with them to support them, even though he hates being cutesy (and bless him for it. That dance is a gift (and led to cute bts moments of gg poking fun at dd)). He's passionate about dance and he's passionate about helping other people improve (and learning from others). Dancers want to join his team because of that passion, and because dd just has a natural talent for it that is incredibly inspiring.
But he does like winning. He explicitly said as much himself. And that one episode I highlighted where his team lost is pretty tense. The rehearsals were tense, the performance was tense, dd's response to everything was tense. During one round, his team only gets 4 votes compared to, like 40 for the other team. I can't recall the score ever being so lopsided, especially when the losing team is full of top-tier dancers.
And dd's behavior then is incredibly relatable to me. He laughs about it, joking about how he only got 4 votes. But it's the laugh you get when you're really unhappy and kinda embarrassed but trying to keep a good, positive face on things (or at least, that's a strategy I have for those moments, and given dd's switch to serious-times when he's doing the team debrief, I think he's somewhat similar).
And dd recovers well. He has a debrief with his team. He talks to Han Geng about what his team is lacking (they specifically talk about his team performance not being thematic like the others) and realizes they need a choreographer to pull everything together and give them direction. And the very first round of recruitment, he gets a choreographer for them.
I don't think dd only likes winning. The reference to "not here to make friends" thing was a bit of rhetorical exaggeration for fun. Like I noted, he makes friends. He learns a lot and he mentors a lot, and that's definitely a big part of the draw for SDC for him. And while dd never intentionally cultivates a family atmosphere (as opposed to the other captains who explicitly tell their team that they're like a family), they come together like a family anyway. But he still likes winning, and I think he has trouble enjoying everything else as much if he's not winning.
It's not a bad thing to be competitive like that (I once got into a fight with my wife because I kept losing in thumb wars against her. I personally know when competitiveness becomes stupid). DD has a passionate drive to succeed. This is how he's managed to excel at basically everything he tries (except cooking). I think way back to the auditions in SDC 3, when dd impresses his group by being savvy about street dance gestures (like the plagiarism gesture) and by knowing how to appeal to dancers (by having them warm up with some freestyling). He quickly overcomes any doubts the dancers have based on his idol background by being genuine, sincere, and passionate and that's why people want to join his team.
*rereads all this* Hmmmm...feedback and replies are good. This is a better post.
Also, this judge is the one who always says nice things about dd. He's said at one point that dd has an extraordinary natural talent for dance even among professional dancers. He's right and he should say it. Best judge. A+ I hope they keep bringing him on.
#bjyx#yizhan#in this house we use a lot of words#the first photo i put in this tumblr and it's some random white dude wtf me#dd would def roll his eyes at alla this#still an honor
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