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#this came to me last night and i havent been the same man
jessebutchman · 10 months
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pyro are you ready for roleplay night?
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lunarfortune · 2 months
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thesmutsideblog · 1 year
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Never Ever? - Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: After a you and your long term ex breakup, some truths about your sex life come to light at the BAU and the idea that you've never had an orgasm, does not fly with Spencer Reid.
Reader is AFAB, and the story is using she/her pronouns, mostly because this one is really self indulgent and loosely based on me being pissed off about my ex.
Content warnings: dumbification of Spencer Reid, simp Spencer, shitty ex boyfriend, self indulgent writing, no beta or proof reading, cursing, smut, sexual worship, porn with plot I guess.
I have never written in second person before so I can only apologise for the shit quality of this, I havent written smut since 2018 and it's unedited, there is going to be spelling issues it's the dyslexia I'm sorry xx
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GIF by comeandjointhebigboys
Spencer is doing everything in his power to look like he is minding his business, mostly because he really is trying to not eavesdrop. He came over to make a cup of coffee because he got barely any sleep last night and he wants to keep focused. But with no case directly at hand, there was something else the team were paying attention to and it was impossible for Spencer to completely ignore it.
"So he just, broke up with you?" Emily asks, dumbfounded.
"Over the phone," you say tilting your mug towards yourself, choosing to stare down at the small remainder of your coffee rather than to make eye contact with your team members.
"What an asshole," JJ says, lacing her arms together, until she looks like a disapproving mother. "Did he say why?"
"He said, we were going different places, and it would be a disservice to the time we spent together to pretend to be happy and keep lying to eachother," you say, sighing and putting the mug down, choosing to accept this caring interrogation about your breakup as your fate for the next twenty minutes.
"He used those words?" Emily asks, still trying to grapple the concept that your boyfriend, who she had met on a few occasions and had some thoughts she kept to herself about, had broken up with you.
"He used those words but what he really meant was 'I want to start sleeping with my twenty year old coworker and you spend too much time at work, so I'm ending things,' but he won't have the decency to admit that, despite the fact he was sleeping with her before the week was out," you roll your eyes as Emily and JJ continue to voice their disgust, loudly across the bullpen. You catch Spencer's eye for a moment and give him a small sad smile across the room, he nods and then looks away.
The guilt is eating Spencer alive. It's not like he actually had anything to do with the end of your relationship, he actively kept himself far away from it and even discussing it with you as possible. But the facts still remained the same, he likes you. He has liked you since your first day at the BAU and his feelings have never faltered. But you have always been in that relationship since long before he met you, and he knew that he didn't stand a chance, and he wouldn't want to mess around with that anyway. But he was unable to disagree with Prentiss, his own feelings for you aside, the simple fact of the matter was you have always been well out of your exes league. You are beautiful, and intelligent and charismatic, and your ex thought he was those things but more often than not fell short.
It's not like he even wished that your relationship would end and could blame it on the unlikely event of magical intervention. But the sheer fact that he was undeniably happier that you were no longer dating a man you were once very much in love with, that was enough to have him feeling guilty. Which is one of the many reasons he is really trying to not get involved in this conversation. One of the many reasons he is trying to keep a distance.
"How long were you two together again, like three years?" JJ asks. You shake your head.
"High school sweethearts," you correct her, "it's been a lot longer than three years."
"And he broke up with you over the phone, for a co-worker?" Emily emphasis each word in the sentence as she slowly sounds them out.
"He denies the last part but, yes," you nod.
"What are you beautiful ladies being so loud about?" Derek asks, approaching the three of you with some files in hand.
"The fact that men never fail to both disappoint and astound me," Emily states looking up at Derek from her seat, "no offence."
"None taken, but a little context wouldn't go a miss," he says looking at each of you in turn.
"My ex is a pig," you explain as nonchalantly as you can manage. You're trying really hard to be very collected about this. You've had a few days to process the breakup and you knew it was coming, even if you won't admit that to yourself. But being broken up with hurts, whether you see it coming or not. He was the only person you ever really dated, and having spent so much of your life with him this was a big adjustment. But deep down you weren't exactly mad about the situation, as much as it made you feel a lot better to complain about it. Things had not been right between the two of you for quite some time, and you find yourself almost relieved that it's over. But that still gave him no right to be as much of an asshole about it all as he has been.
"So he is the only guy you've ever really dated then, huh?" Emily asks. You give her a look as the thought crosses through her mind. "Wait, does that mean?"
"We started dating when we were barely more than kids Emily," you defend.
"So it's just been that guy, that guy?" Emily is struggling to be even the smallest part composed. "What is wrong with men?"
"You need some strange," Derek says casually.
"Morgan," JJ scolds him but Emily is slowly nodding her head. "Emily..."
"Best way to get over someone," Emily points out.
"Wow, I am not getting under anyone," you state, holding up your hands.
"Look, I understand the appeal of someone you've been with for a long time, they know you, they know what you like," Derek leans back on the table, "so new is risky, and some people really don't have a clue what they're doing I'll admit," he chuckles, "but trust me the longer you leave it-" Derek knows he isn't crossing a boundary, you and him have had plenty of conversations, but as soon as you give him the look to stop talking, he stops.
"I appreciate your concern but sex, is really not at the top of my priority list," you say.
"Please don't let a guy like that ruin it for you," Emily is staring up at the ceiling all types of distressed at the idea of your ex and his general existence.
"I don't think you need to worry about him ruining anything for me, more like just wasting my time," you say before realising that may be revealing too much. All three of them look at you instantly. "Do not read into that."
"Disinterest," Emily states looking you up and down. "And no immediate desire to release that usually comes with a breakup."
"We're not really doing this, are we?" JJ asks looking between the two profilers concerned.
"She's been distant the last few months, talking less and less about him, so the breakup wasn't unexpected, which means the sexlife probably wasn't up to scratch at the time," Derek adds.
"Oh you guys are doing this," JJ gives you an apologetic look as they start rattling off assumptions.
You try your best to ignore them until Derek says something which does tiptoe over the line- by a mile. "Pretty boy, what are the statistics on post breakup sex?" He is half joking but it pulls Spencer directly into a conversation he had been trying to avoid.
Spencer knows the answer, and that's obvious, but answering will only encourage them to get him involved in the conversation. But not answering is suspicious and could cause worse problems. He pushes his thumb into the centre of his palm as he speaks. "27% of adults report having sex with an ex within a two-year period," Spencer states knowing that's not what Derek meant but hoping he could get away with it.
"No, I mean rebound sex," Derek corrects.
"Studies show that thirty-five percent of those who are broken up with have sex to get over their ex, and twenty-five percent as a form of revenge," Spencer says giving in and stepping closer to the group.
"Look sixty five percent of rebound relationships fail within six months," you say. That's a safe thing to say you believe, as you know the team would likely assign that research as an attempt to make an educated guess how long the fling with the coworker would last. But Spencer knows better. He cannot help but wonder if that's what has been making you act differently the last few months. If you saw the end in sight and wondered what that means for you when it's over.
"You're not looking for a relationship though, you're just looking for some fun," JJ points out.
"You do remember how to have fun, don't you beautiful," Derek asks giving you a wink.
"Yeah," you say brushing him off.
"Do you?" Derek asks, unconvinced.
"I told you, I'm not interested in going out and getting laid, it's not worth the energy," you say.
"When was the last time you had an orgasm?" Emily asks. Spencer chokes on his coffee.
"Emily!" JJ chastises her.
"Someone had to ask," Emily says.
"No one had to," you tell her.
"Come on, six months?" Emily asks. "A year?"
"Emily," JJ warns.
"Shit..." Derek whispers and you feel his gaze on you intensifying. He has you all figured out.
"What?" Spencer asks, not meaning to.
Derek is keeping his eyes on you and you cannot meet his eye. "Tell me I'm wrong pretty girl," Derek says, wanting himself to be wrong.
"I... I don't know... You're a profiler, how am I supposed to lie to you?" You huff.
"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks.
"Derek you're not helping," you state.
"Sorry," he says, "I just don't understand how that can be the case."
"You said it yourself, some people really don't have a clue what they're doing," you say.
"So you've never?" Emily asks cottoning on.
"Can we please stop talking about this," you say.
Spencer's brain is ticking over trying to read between the lines and when it clicks he is struck with a similar dumbfounding as Morgan. How? How?
He cannot help but have one clear thought scrambling around his brain at a million miles per hour. If he had ever had the chance, he wouldn't have wanted anything more than to make sure you felt good. To know he had made you feel good.
How inconsiderate could your ex be? How little attention must he have been playing to not even notice that you were not getting what he was out of it? How had he never cared to make that better?
And why did you not feel cheated by that fact?
"I'm not eavesdropping," Garcia defends bringing Spencer out of his head and back into the room.
"Okay why don't we just fax everyone the stats on my sex life," you groan, resting your head in your hands.
"I'm just saying," Garcia tries.
"I appreciate all of the unnecessary concern," you say, "but my sex life isn't a BAU case." Emily smiles as she goes to speak but you catch her thought right before she opens her mouth. "And it's no ones problem to solve either."
"It's a little tragic," JJ confesses.
"JJ," you're surprised, JJ is normally the one you can count on to get the others back on track but she just shrugs.
"Let's leave it be, Garcia do we have a case," Spencer is talking with his hands even more than normal and you cannot help but notice. He is trying to come to your rescue and you appreciate that. You appreciate everything Spencer does.
"Maybe," Garcia explains, waving her tablet at the group. "Hotch wants us in the conference room, five minutes ago."
You're quick to get out of your seat and away from the grilling you are receiving from the team and everyone else is quick behind you. Hotch and Rossi are at the desk when you all enter.
Hotch frowns. "You took a while," he notes.
"Discussing the breakup?" Rossi asks, looking you up and down.
"I dont even want to know what has given that away," you admit taking a seat. Hotch nods a half apology which you silently shrug off in return.
You were trying your best to pay attention, giving Hotch the respect he deserves, but the case he was talking about didnt feel like it required the BAU's involvement and Emily is quick to voice that opinion. You managed to register a few words about consulting and favours, but nothing is really sinking in, not when you can feel Spencer's gaze on you as hot as a fever.
You raise your eyes to meet his and they dart away. You think back, and it occurs to you that maybe conversations about your sex life or anyone of the teams sex lives for that matter wasnt exactly what Spencer signed up for. You feel a little guilty, knowing you kind of indulged the others and let him get pulled into the conversation even if that wasnt your intention.
You catch him looking at you again but he doesnt see you looking back, it's like he is trapped in a thought, and in this moment you've never seen Spencer look so without a clue.
"Reid?" Hotch asks, repeating the question.
Spencer looks to Hotch, and he buffers. You know he knows the answer to the question, you know he always knows, but his brain seems to have frozen up on him. "I... sorry what?"
"This is statistics kid," Derek says, "are you sick or something?"
Emily gently pokes Spencers shoulder. "Maybe he is getting a software update," she jokes.
You lean forward and give Hotch the answer he is looking for, remembering from a conversation you and Spencer had a few weeks back about Ohio. Hotch gives a side eye to Rossi before continuing.
You look back at Spencer and he is watching you again, you offer him a small smile and he returns it. You've always been better at reading Spencer than most members of the team but you don't recognize this behaviour at all.
"Are you okay?" You ask him as you both make your way down the steps of the BAU.
"Of course, why do you ask?"
"You blanked back there, Spence, pretty hard," you say as gently as you can, "I havent seen you like that since..."
"Since when?" Spencer looks curious, and softer somehow.
"Since we worked that case in Illinois, with the models, you took one look at that girl Annie Grant was it, and your IQ dropped like a hundred points," you laugh gently.
"She was pretty," Spencer confesses.
"I think Morgan got her number," you recall.
"He did," Spencer agrees.
"So, what is it? Because it's not a pretty girl in lounge wear," you say.
"You dont know that for sure," you can tell he is trying to joke around the subject, and normally youd find that cute. Cute in the kind of way you havent been able to admit to yourself before. Because having a crush on a coworker is not convenient at the best of times.
"Okay, Dr Reid, keep your secrets," you give him gentle shove and his smile is disarming, soft and so happy to just be involved. "Got any fun evening plans?"
"There's this new study into cognitive dissonance in specific trauma patterns I have been meaning to read," he offers. You bite back a chuckle.
"You've got a date with science," you nod to yourself, "of course you do."
He looks around, thinking for a moment. "Are you going to walk?" He asks.
"I usually do," you admit, "it's only a few blocks after all."
"Can I," he pauses, "can I walk you?"
"You want to walk me home?" You ask, a little suprised at the offer.
"If that's okay, the study can wait," he says. There is a look in his eyes you can't quite pinpoint, somewhere between pleading and hopeful. You nod.
"I'd love that Spence."
The distance to your apartment door had never felt so short, and you hadn't realised until now quite how much you enjoyed the moments when you were with Spencer, and no one else was watching. Maybe because he paid less attention to making sure no one noticed him watching you, and he just keeps watching.
Spencer looks at his feet as you fumble with your keys, he has no idea what he is doing. He didn't think any of this through, he just kept thinking about you, and what you deserved and what you should've always been given and now he is stood at the doorstep of your place with no plan, no idea of what compelled him to think any of this was a good idea and no idea of what to do next.
You smile at him, and bite your lower lip just a small bit, the look is so demure that Spencer wonders if he imagined the entire conversation in the bullpen, wondering if maybe he was really so wrapped up in these months of conflicted feelings for you that he managed to lapse from reality so badly that he got himself here.
"Do you want to come in for coffee?" You offer and his heart damn near stops in his chest.
"Coffee is never coffee kid," Derek's voice rings in his head. "It's an invitation."
"Got decaf?" Spencer asks, and you laugh.
"Like anyone who works at the BAU knows what decaf is," you open the door wide and walk through. "You coming?"
He doesn't answer but follows you, closing the door behind him. Your apartment isn't a mess but it's clear things have been moved around since your breakup, there is clear empty spaces where things once collected dust, like so many things once filled a place and vanished. You weren't dwelling on the relationship, because there wasn't a point. You had loved and you had lost, and you knew it went like that sometimes.
"You better not be profiling me Dr Reid," you quip as you catch him looking around.
"I wouldn't dare," he says.
"So, are you going to explain why you're being so sheepish?" You ask, reaching for a mug, to actually make coffee.
"I'm being sheepish?" he asks. He had hoped he was hiding it better.
"Nervous at the very least," you say putting the kettle on. He says nothing and you sigh. "Did we make you uncomfortable earlier?"
"What?" Spencer asks, caught off guard by the question.
"Talking about my ex," you offer up. "I know that sort of gossip isn't exactly for everyone-,"
"No," he is quick to defend, "that's not what's bothering me."
You smirk and he sees the trap you laid for him that he walked right into. "So something is bothering you pretty boy," Morgan's nickname for him falls from your lips and it sounds so different. It burns every nerve ending, each fibre of his being and he forgets how to speak for a moment too long. "Spence?"
"I," he brings himself back.
"I don't mean to pry, you don't have to tell me anything," you explain quickly.
"How was your ex such an idiot?" he asks outright. You laugh, it's short and shallow because you're not expecting anything close to that from Spencer.
"What?" It's your turn to feel dumb now as you spiral trying to process what Spencer is suggesting. That the conversation had gotten to him, but not in the way you'd thought. His problem hadn't been with the topic but the content, the confession. The kettle brings itself to a boil but you're interest is elsewhere now.
"I don't mean to speak out of place here, but if I were him there are so many things I would've done differently," he fidgets with his tie but doesn't stop. This confession is coming out now or not at all and he wants it finished. He needs it finished. He does not want blurred lines. Not between the two of you. "Not even touching the subject of how your relationship ended. I wouldn't have left you in the rain last October, I wouldn't have held all the things I knew about you when we met as reasons to run years after I agreed to love you regardless. I wouldn't have let you go to work angry all those times. I wouldn't have lied about plans. I wouldn't have let you go to sleep sad or angry, and be gone in the morning. I wouldn't have left you wanting, for anything. Because if I was him I would understand what a beautiful rarity it is to find someone who does what you do, with your compassion and determination and dedication and is still kind, still hopeful, even when things are dark. There are not a lot of things I don't know much about, and maybe relationships, and romance and sex are in that limited list, and maybe he would argue that hypotheticals hold no ground when your experience is as limited as mine, but I frankly don't care what his opinion would be. Because he didn't see you for what you are and that means his thoughts are of no value to me. I don't tell you this because I am expecting you to say anything, it's just burning me up that you weren't treated, hell worshiped, in the way you deserved and I had to tell you that I can't think of anything more wrong." He steps back and you're still catching your breath. "I, I am sorry I shouldn't have... I will see you at work."
He turns and strides to the door, and your breath heaves in and out of your chest and you wonder if you can find your voice before his hand finds purchase on your doors lock. "Spencer," you breathe out. He pauses, hand hovering over the door handle.
"Yes?" his voice is so quiet, and he doesn't turn to look at you.
"Please don't leave," the request falls from your lips and Spencer has never felt more of a need to do something than to do anything you ask of him in this moment. But his doubt still hangs gently in the space between the two of you.
"What?" he asks again, searching in the word to find something to hold onto, looking for some guidance or instructions he missed. He didn't have a plan, and he doesn't know what to do with this.
"Please," you say again, voice sturdier now as you start to close the distance between the two of you, "Spence," his breath hitches as you place a hand gently on his shoulder, encouraging him to turn back to you, and he does, "don't leave."
His eyes stare into yours and you swear you feel all the months of unsaid things, of quiet wanting, of stolen thoughts in weak moments, bursting at the seams. You had told yourself in another world, another life time, had you met Spencer Reid and the timing had been different, if you had been different, he would've been everything. You told yourself from that first day that those brown eyes may plead into you with every moment you meet them but it was never going to be the right time.
His eyes stare into yours and he feels the weight of all the things he long tired to bury, crawling their way up from the depths and pushing against his skin, desperate to get out. Desperate to be known. Desperate to correct the wrongs and do right by you. Desperate.
His hand hovers touch's length away, scared to close the distance, scared to make the move, to change everything. You both know in this moment, that all it takes is one touch and you're going over the cliff.
This is a road you do not turn back from.
You whisper one last time, like a prayer, "Spence," and in a blink gravity turns back on, and everything blooms in bright technicolour.
It unfolds in a rush, his hand to your waist, pulling you that much closer, both of your hands gripping to the fabric of his shirt as he pulls you up to him, other hand moving gently under your chin to guide the tilt of your head. His lips crash onto yours and there's a hunger you've never seen in him, and a hunger you've never known inside yourself.
There's a gentleness, a caution in his desperation, in his need, one that you don't have in your own. He keeps kissing you and you back up, footing not very careful as you tighten your grip on his shirt. Your back finds support against the edge of your counter and you find yourself letting on of the hands slip from the fabric of his button down to tug at his tie, to keep him closer at first, and then in an attempt to remove it entirely.
He pulls back for a moment, not to catch breath as either of you would be happy to drown in this moment, but his eyes are scanning you, like he is looking for something else, something missing.
You pause, slowly tugging the tie from his collar and letting it fall to your floor. "Spencer?" you ask.
He looks lost as he breathes in. "I don't know what I am doing," he says.
"You're doing great is what you're doing," you say, not looking away.
"Is this okay?" he finally asks. Your heart starts running away from you as you try to remember to breathe.
"This is more than okay," you assure him, "please Spencer, don't stop kissing me."
That's all he needs to hear and his lips are back on yours and the kisses are feverish and starved and he presses his hands into your hips and the gentle moan that leaves your lips sends Spencer's mind spinning.
He pulls his lips from yours and starts kissing a trail down to your neck, you lean more into the support of the counter top and let a hand find it's way into a tangle of his brown hair.
His tongue against your skin, the gentle brush of teeth on that spot that makes the sound from before seem like a draft of a masterpiece. Spencer knows that now he has heard you, voice like honey, moan trembling from your lips, nails dug into his scalp gently tugging on his hair, barely able to keep your eyes open yet again your breathing steady, no sound will ever compare.
In the the times he had let himself think about you, imagine all the things, let his fantasies and dreams run away with him, he had never come close to this moment. How your fingers shake as you start to unbutton his shirt, needing to do something, needing something.
Needing him.
And you can feel his need in return, in the way he holds onto you, on the way he is listening to your body, hearing every response, feeling every movement, determined to do this right.
He feels the way you press your tights together, tight against the counter, the need for something more radiating off of you, and you don't give time for the doubt to creep in. "We should," you breathe out as you feel the blood rushing through you, knowing that there will be marks from where he is kissing you that you won't be able to hide tomorrow, not that you want to, "move this to the bedroom."
"Is now a bad time to point out that I have mostly just a conceptual understanding of what we are about to do?" Spencer asks between kisses.
"I think you're worrying too much, because if you're basing this on theory," you take his hand leading him towards your room, "so far you're giving nothing but hard evidence."
You let your own innuendo slide as you both fall back onto your bed, he looks down as he leans over you, and there's a softness, a patience in this moment, as he needs to soak it all in.
You reach up and continue to undo the buttons on his shirt until they are completely undone, and he watches you as you do, you give the fabric a gentle tug and he catches on, slipping the rest of the shirt and the jacket off and letting it fall back somewhere out of mind. You trace a hand gently up his arm and he leans down to kiss you again, your lips, your jaw, your neck.
He runs a thumb over the deep red mark he has left and you feel the fever rising again. You need out of these clothes, you need more.
You start to undo your own shirt buttons and as each button comes undone Spencer follows the trail of exposed skin and leaves hot kisses on each new place.
You can feel the hard outline of his cock against your thigh as you reach to unzip the side of your skirt. The nervousness is still fluttering in Spencer's face as he helps you slip out of it. His fingertips brushing over exposed skin, his hand creeping up the inside of your thigh and you buck up gently at the touch.
His lips trace kisses up your torso to your chest and like this, each kiss so intoxicating, each touch so electrifying, his hand inching further and further up your thigh, as his lips dance over the skin around the fabric of your bra there is nothing he could ask of you that you would not do.
Sex may never have been perfect before, but you'd always thought it was at least decent, passing, respectable. But this build up with Spencer, his hands on your skin, his lips leaving evidence on your body that he has been here, this was more than you'd ever felt. And he hadn't even really touched you yet.
You reach to undo his trousers, eager to get him in less clothing but he pulls back, out of your reach. "Not yet," he whispers against your skin, "you start doing that and this will be over way too soon." He brings his lips to yours again, stealing a deep kiss as he unclasps your bra. "And this is about you, all about you," he is mumbling again, almost incoherent against you. He is determined, his mind is focused on you and your pleasure and what you deserve.
You don't think you've ever wanted anything as much as you want this.
His thumb brushes against the your clothed skin, and sparks shoot through your body, nails digging into his shoulder as you gasp at the contact.
He nudges closer, his forehead pressed to yours, and you look at him. Spencer, your colleague, your friend. Spencer who never forgets your coffee order. Spencer who stayed all night to help with paperwork because you lost a bet. Spencer who has accompanied you to every movie you've ever asked him to. Spencer who bought an extra ticket to every convention just in case you would want to come.
"Please," you plead, like you need to, as if it was possible that he wouldn't do anything for you in this moment. As if you even needed to ask.
He kisses you, pulling you up and towards him, breathing you in as his hand finds its way between the elastic of your underwear and your skin.
Your nerves are as quick to respond to his touch as fire to a accelerant. Every movement makes you wonder if Spencer was given some map of your body that you didn't know existed, a guide to movement and pressure and timing that couldn't be more perfect.
You are nodding at his movements, keening at every increase of pace, every finger curl, every swipe of his thumb. Your body shuddering in anticipation and a pleasure you never knew courses through you.
Spencer is leaving compliments with every kiss across your body, so eager to please, so desperate to worship. When he hits the spot, your body gives you away at alarming speed, you buck, moving your arms to prop yourself up on elbows, leaning into him, into the movements, rutting against him. "Fuck," you manage in the haze.
Spencer responds to this approval with dedication and vigour and then you feel it, that hot white coil of pleasure pulling at you, like a tight chord. "Shit," you start breathing heavier, faster, "shit, shit."
"You're so incredibly beautiful," you hear Spencer whisper. You can't keep your eyes open as your knees begin to shake.
"Spencer," you whimper, not for any reason but to say his name. The need to say his name over and over, and over as the chord pulls tight and finally snaps.
The pleasure explodes through you, every nerve tingling, like fireworks cascading through you. You shake, riding the high through and fall back onto the bed, slumped with a laboured breath.
Spencer moves back up to be level with you, gently brushes some stray hairs from your face and he smiles down at you. "That is what it's supposed to feel like?" You ask.
If this was all he could have for the rest of his life, Spencer would be a happy man. He plants a kiss on your forehead, and that look of devotion has not left his eyes.
But he has been filled with a new sense of purpose, like he was made for this. For you.
He doesn't have time to debate internally if your ex was purely just that poor at what he did or if it feeling so easy, coming so naturally to him was something else entirely. He didn't really care which it was, maybe both. Right now all he cared about was making up for lost time, lost opportunities, all your disappointment.
He kisses you again and the force of it is more knowing, more sure, it's hot and messy and every moment it feels like you need to be closer, deeper, more entwined. The whole time he keeps his hand in your underwear, thumb running in soft, intensely accurate circles as his fingers do most of the work.
It crosses your mind that maybe it should be almost embarrassing that he is making it so easy. It should be embarrassing that Spencer barely needed any time to bring that second orgasm to precipice. It should be embarrassing that you're convinced this man could make you come by the way he kisses you alone, but you're not embarrassed. Not because you've never felt the pleasure like this before, not because you think pleasure it never something to be embarrassed about and not because after everything you deserve this. But because it's Spencer Reid, and everything with him has always felt like it is exactly as it should be, and him making you feel this way, is no exception.
He holds you in the kiss as your second orgasm pulses through you, just as intense as the first one, he feels you shake as it floods you. A moan escaping into the kiss, from your mouth to his and he groans against your lips.
He is so focused on you that he isn't paying any attention to how this is effecting him, how hard he is against you. How desperate he is for you. His need for your pleasure overtaking any need of his own.
You know if left to his own devices Spencer would stay as the two of you are, skin pressed to skin, lips on yours, trying to write years worth of wrongs in one night. But you do not want to give into exhaustion before you have let him ruin your expectations in all the ways you know.
He moves from your lips to your neck and before you can process much of his plans you feel the kisses trailing your hipbone, and with the third orgasm approaching you can see where his mind has wondered to. You lean forward, gasping in pleasure, but determined to get his attention, you place a hand on the side of his face, tilting up his chin to meet your eyes. "Wait," is all you manage to moan out before the pleasure tears into you, your head falls back and you grab a fistful of sheet, trying to keep yourself up through the pleasure.
Spencer does as you ask and waits until you manage to gather your words, eyes on you. "Please," you try. He runs his eyes over your body trying to understand your request.
You reach down, pulling once again at the edge of his trousers, fumbling to undo them, to get him out of them. You've never known Spencer to be so slow to catch on, but he is practically drunk on you.
"Oh," he manages. "Oh."
Before he can start to explain all the reasons he doesn't think that's important right now you look up at him with those eyes so pleading. "Please," you whisper again.
And he is putty in your hand, happy to do anything you ask of him, he nods and you finish undoing his trousers and push them down, he finishes discarding them.
Now it's your fingertips against his skin and he holds his breath as you move for his boxers. "Is this okay?" you ask quietly.
"You're everything I have ever wanted," the honey leaves his lips and you kiss him, his lips focused on you as you help him out of his boxers and pull him down and close.
"I need you," you whisper. "Right now, I need you."
"I am yours," he responds.
You keep your fingers threaded in his hair, and you tug a little harder as you become overwhelmed with him. "Fuck," Spencer's voice shudders in pleasure and you understand his desperation to please you instantly, because you want nothing more than to give him everything.
Everything becomes a mixture of moans and names, lips pressed to skin, and fabric scrunched with every thrust. You kiss Spencer's neck, finding his sweet spot with a similar precision to which he found yours. Leaving a collection of marks on his neck before her buries his face into yours, repeating your name over and over, becoming more and more wanting. His neediness matching your own and as he digs his fingers into your hips that now familiar feeling starts to rush you.
"Spencer, I am going to cum again," you whisper. Spencer cannot form words, he just keeps kissing, sucking, digging at your skin, even now he isn't close enough to you. "Fuck!" You scream out and the pleasure of your orgasm is almost too much for Spencer.
"Fuck, I," Spencer's brain is doing flips trying to figure out what to do, what he is supposed to do. "I am going to."
"Please," you beg in his ear.
"I should, I haven't," he is trying to piece the words together but they're not coming. You know what is trying to say, what is cannot find the words to ask.
"Please stay with me," you say, nudging his nose with your own, "please."
Your gentle request is his breaking point and he crashes his lips back onto yours as his own orgasm comes to fruition.
He collapses down next to you, both catching your breath. "Fuck," you repeat, for what might be the millionth time, as you long lost count.
You cannot help it, you let out a little laugh and Spencer glances at you, a smile breaking out on his face. "For the record, I hadn't planned that," he says.
"For the record, I really planned on drinking my coffee."
"I can make you a coffee," Spencer offers, turning to his side.
"We should, get cleaned up first," you smile.
"Then coffee?"
"Then coffee."
1K notes · View notes
flowerui · 2 months
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♫ we both like apple cider, pgw
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fluff & light angst, 4.1k words ୨୧ first fic on this blog! feedback is appreciated!! ^_^ i've had awful writer's block for MONTHS so i hope i havent gotten too rusty,,,
wherein dancing is your favorite way to destress, until a certain gunwook park goes and spoils it all.
꒰ requested. gender neutral reader (no pronouns or gendered terms used), reader is a year older than gw, dancer reader, bff hanbin, one-sided enemies to friends to lovers, college au, misunderstandings, set in the us, does this count as forced proximity? light angst, fluff (it gets so cheesy idk what happened to me), drinking/underage drinking ꒱
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Dancing had always been your favorite way to unwind. After a long day of classes, practice is like a treat; the mental toll of having to listen to your professors drone on all day, and procrastinating assignments until the night they’re due is easily unraveled by dancing until you can’t feel your limbs—it’s unmatched.
That’s why, despite it being Wednesday (the second worst day of the week), you walk out of your last class with a skip in your step, like nothing could ruin your day.
Nothing except a man named Hanbin, that is.
After changing, you enter the practice room, ready to forget your worries. But before you can begin, you see a paper stuck on the wall beside the door—Hanbin must’ve finally put together the choreo for the solo and duet performances for an upcoming recital for some event on campus (truthfully, you can't be bothered to remember all the details, that's Hanbin's job), and decided on who’d best fit the roles. You’re a little late, so it’s just you who curiously shuffles over to take a look.
Seeing your name under Duet makes you smile until you read your counterpart's name. Gunwook Park.
You find a spot to sink to the floor in the back of the room. Suddenly, you’ve changed your perspective on dancing; it’s the worst thing to happen to you. You regret ever discovering this useless passion of yours, who even needs passions in this economy?!
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Hanbin would tell you otherwise, but you believe that you have pretty good ideas.
You’d tried to take an easier route and complain to Hanbin that you absolutely could not work with Gunwook for a duet. But he was adamant about not making any alterations at this point, at least not just because you don’t like Gunwook—what a traitor, what happened to friendship?
Since complaining about your unfair working conditions did fuck all, you came up with a wonderful solution. You get paired with the number one person on your shit list? Just don’t show up to rehearsals. Boom, problem solved. Though it’s easier said than done; you’re a creature of habit, and the disappointment of remembering you can’t destress with dance is depressing.
And, of course, avoiding both Hanbin and Gunwook is a chore.
It’s on day four that you consider, maybe Hanbin is right sometimes. You were only successful in avoiding everything except schoolwork because college kicks everyone’s ass, and finding free time starts to feel like finding a needle in a haystack. But, maybe ditching practice when you live with the leader of your dance team wasn’t your best idea. On Sundays, both you and Hanbin usually end up being home at the same time.
And like an idiot, you forget this detail and trudge out of your room at two in the afternoon (no, you certainly did not just wake up, thank you very much) to find something acceptable to eat.
As you’re rummaging through the pantry, you hear your name called in that tone. The one where Hanbin’s voice sounds mildly shrill and a bit patronizing, the one that lets you know you’re in trouble.
Yeah, not your brightest idea—it might take over the number two spot of your top three worst ideas, followed by trying to gaslight a random group of people into believing that Play-doh is edible after you’d had a drink too many at your first college party at number one. (To be fair, you did not expect a twenty-something-year-old man to have Play-Doh on hand and tell you to prove it. Yes, you tried. You vomited on the guy’s shoes.)
Rigidly, you slowly turn to face Hanbin, who has a terse smile on his face.
“...Yes?”
“I thought maybe you hadn’t shown up to rehearsals because you weren’t feeling well, but yesterday, Gunwook told me every time he spotted you on campus, you naruto-ran away.”
“Uh,” you fake cough into your elbow, “Must’ve been someone that looks like me? ‘Cause I have been feeling kind of under the we—”
You shriek and make a run for it when Hanbin stomps over with that creepy hamster puppet you’d given him as a gag gift last year in hand. Eventually, you get cornered and get a creepy hamster puppet thrown in your face. “You can’t just ditch practice because you have some petty one-sided rivalry—or whatever it is—with Gunwook. You’re risking embarrassing the whole team! What are you planning to do, just not learn the choreography?”
“You know it's not a rivalry...” You grumble.
“You’re being childish,” Hanbin sighs, “I’ve already told you that whatever your deal is with Gunwook is some misunderstanding, he’s a sweet guy.”
“Yeah, whatever.” You huff, probably not helping the childish accusation. You’re tired of hearing that about what a good guy Gunwook appears to be because you know what you heard.
Without another word, you stomp off to your room.
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If you had any hopes of getting out of going to rehearsal again, they’re promptly stomped on by Hanbin waiting outside of your class when you trudge out.
“Really?” You groan, and walk over to your supposed friend, “You don’t need to escort me.”
“I think I do,” Hanbin crosses his arms, fixing you with a look, like he knows you better than yourself… okay, he does ninety percent of the time, but that doesn’t mean he can act like it. “I’m pretty sure I saw you ready to head in the wrong direction before you saw me.” He says before grabbing your arm and pulling you down the hall.
“I don’t even get what your deal is with Gunwook,” Hanbin finally says when you’re about halfway to the studio, “I know you said you heard him say something… unsavory, but that just doesn’t sound like him at all. I think you should talk to him, I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.”
“I know what I heard, Bin…”
“I’m not saying you didn’t hear what you heard, but maybe there’s some missing context.”
You try to consider Hanbin’s words, even as you absentmindedly head into the changing rooms, and reluctantly shuffle into the practice room afterward, you truly do. 
But all the rational thinking and breathing techniques in the world cannot quell your ire when you see Gunwook. Calmly walking over and refraining from saying anything uncouth is a true test of mental strength—one that you are quite afraid of failing.
“Hey—” Gunwook rises from his spot in the corner of the practice room to greet you.
“Let’s get started.” You blurt out, aware of how cold and biting your dismissal comes off. To be fair, Hanbin didn’t tell you to be particularly nice, he just insisted you show up.
“Oh, right,” Gunwook’s expression wilts, but he clears his throat and plasters a polite smile on his face. “I’m sure Hanbin already let you know he wouldn’t be here to help us out today—he’s helping Natty with her solo. I’ve got the choreo down, so I should be able to guide you if needed.”
“I practiced at home.”  You did. A little bit, it wasn’t easy with the limited space in your cramped—ahem, homey apartment. But practicing a duet by yourself, then giving up after stubbing your toe on every fucking piece of furniture in your home, and practicing it with your duet partner are two different things.
“Oh, that’s good… um, I’ll start the music.”
Your name is followed by an exasperated sigh. With reluctance—because your phone’s home screen is just that interesting—you glance up from your phone, to see Gunwook eyeing you through the mirror. 
“Could we try to get through the routine? Maybe without you scratching me this time?” Gunwook gnaws at his bottom lip, sweat beading at his temple. He’s actually been hard at work, practicing while you sat in the corner of the room—essentially sentenced to a time-out after accidentally scratching Gunwook every time you tried to run through the routine with him. Accidentally.
You can’t help the frown that sets on your lips. Only to you, it seems, Gunwook Park is an enigma. When he first joined the team, he seemed nice, and he wasn’t much younger than you, you just never got the chance to properly talk to him. However, now you never want to speak to him, the fact that you have to work so closely with him is nauseating.
Tampering down all the ugly word vomit bubbling in your throat, you mentally repeat Hanbin’s words from yesterday to yourself, ‘You’re risking embarrassing the whole team’. Not only do you find most of your teammates to be more than bearable, but you also you can’t bomb a performance because you were too petty to practice the choreography, so, even though the thought of being so close to Gunwook—having to touch him makes you full body cringe, you suck it up.
“Sure.”
Begrudgingly, you get into position and wait for your cue. As the music starts up for what feels like the billionth time that evening, you miss the many nervous glances cast your way.
Succeedingly, you manage to not cause any more bodily harm, even when you have no choice but to get close enough to Gunwook to the point you cannot look anywhere but into his eyes. The urge to flee strikes, as unease among other odd emotions you will not address churn in your gut, but you deal with it (read: ignore it).
You manage to run through the routine once, then again, and again, and again, until your limbs feel like gelatin and you have no option but to sprawl out on the floor. It occurs to you how much you missed this feeling, you can barely believe you let your pettiness get in the way of it.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
Turning your head to the side, there’s Gunwook, also sprawled out beside you. Huh, you don’t even have the negative energy within you to loathe his presence in the moment.
“You just did. But you can ask one more thing.”
A goofy grin splits Gunwook’s lips before he turns his head back to face the ceiling, expression shifting a little more seriously. “Did I… was there something that I like did? Or said to upset you?”
Oh. Right. So, you haven’t forgotten your distaste for Gunwook. You feel your good mood sour, as you scoff, and force yourself to finally sit up—your limbs are very much protesting, screaming at you, matter of fact, but fuck them. And fuck Gunwook Park. “Seriously?”
You glance over your shoulder, Gunwook, who sat up shortly after you, only blinks at you curiously, as though he hasn’t got a clue.
“You really don’t know? Do you just talk shit about everyone and that’s why you can’t seem to remember me?”
“What…?” Gunwook’s brows furrow, “What are you talking about?”
“I heard you." You push yourself up off the ground, fixing Gunwook with an exasperated look, "After our performance at orientation in August, you had a lot to say about my skill, and how ridiculous I looked.”
“I don't…?” You watch as the confusion and then the recognition passes over Gunwook’s features, “No, I—shit,” he hangs his head with a groan, which doesn’t serve to dissipate any of your arising confusion. “That wasn’t about you.”
“I heard you say my name, don’t bullshit me.”
“I—okay, I definitely said your name, but it seriously wasn’t about you. There was this, um, character in a film my roommate watched for some project; they were supposed to be a dancer, but they were godawful. I was talking about the character, and I didn’t even think about how they had the same name as you, or about how loudly I was talking about that.”
“Oh,” you say, rather intelligently. You consider the thought that he could be lying, but he looks at you with such earnestness, remorse practically pooling in his eyes, you can’t even entertain the thought for more than a moment.
“Yeah, oh. I’m sorry you thought I was talking about you…”
“No, I’m sorry,” you quietly sit back down, anger gone as quick as it arose, and flop back on the floor with a sigh. Having your entire view of Gunwook Park debunked in a mere minute was not on tonight’s bingo card.
“I should’ve—Hanbin kept telling me it was probably a misunderstanding and to confront you, but I just stewed in my misguided hatred. God, Hanbin’s going to be insufferable once I tell him he was right all along.”
Gunwook huffs a laugh, “I’m glad we sorted this out, finally. Um, I guess we should wrap up for tonight since it’s getting late. Can I walk you home?”
“Don’t you live on campus? You don’t have to walk me home if you just have to walk back here…”
“It’s fine!” Gunwook smiles, oddly enthusiastic. Weird, personally, you dread having to walk home after practice. “I want to, and I guess now we can get to know each other? Now that you don’t hate me.”
“Yeah… okay, I’ll grab my stuff.” You sit back up again, as much as you’d like to become one with the floor.
“Okay, cool.”
“Cool.” you can’t help but smile, seeing the wide grin on Gunwook’s face. You’re going to choose to believe the warmth in your cheeks is because you’re still cooling off from rehearsing.
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The idea of rehearsing is a lot more palatable now that you don’t despise your duet partner. The actual rehearsals aren’t too bad either… they’re actually kind of enjoyable.
Hanbin was, in fact, very insufferable when you spilled everything that’d happened that day to him. He’d been waiting up for you, sitting on the armchair in your living room, and nearly gave you a heart attack when he flicked on the lamp beside him; like he was your mother and he’d caught you sneaking back in the house.
“Hey, how was class?” Gunwook has taken to waiting for you outside your classes on rehearsal days, you even say hi to each other when you see the other on campus, and maybe talk if you’re not busy.
“Don’t get me started…” you groan, “I have no idea what my professor was on about today, but I thought his jaw was going to unhinge before he finally stopped talking.”
Gunwook chuckles, and grabs your bag from you, cradling it to his chest. “I thought I told you I could carry my bag myself?”
“And I told you that you could try to take it back.” 
You did try, and you decided you do not like freakishly strong guys. “Whatever… what about you? How was your class?”
“Didn’t go today…” Gunwook trails off, glancing down at your linked arms. A habit after losing Hanbin in crowds one too many times. It feels nice with Gunwook, though. “Um, my roommate—” he clears his throat before he continues looking forward, revealing his red ears. Oh, that’s cute.
“He kept me up late ‘cause he needed help with his film project that he’s been procrastinating. I ended up waking up at like one-thirty…”
“Really? So, you just came straight here after waking up?” You tsk, choosing to look away from his pouted lips for your sake. “Did you even eat? Let’s stop by this café a few blocks away before we rehearse. It opened last month, Hanbin and I were supposed to check it out, but I think he forgot.”
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You’re not blind, of course, Gunwook is, well, objectively attractive (subjectively as well, perchance). With much coaxing, you might’ve been able to admit it a week ago when you hated him. But, his attractiveness is far too illuminated when you’re a mere inches from his face; faced with his distractingly pretty brown eyes, and rosy cheeks. Oh God, he’s cute. He’s so fucking cute, and you are so fucking screwed.
Before you can say something so embarrassing you’d have to migrate to another country and assume another identity, you take the initiative to part from Gunwook, carefully backing away, and clearing your throat, “Should we take a break?”
Except that doesn’t even help, because when you sink to the floor to watch YouTube, Gunwook is beside you, smushed at your side to watch whatever you’re watching. You can’t even remember what video you tapped on, but apparently, you’re seven minutes into a video when Gunwook reaches over to pause it.
“Hey, um, one of my friends—his name’s Junhyeon, his frat, Zeta Rho Xi is having a party this weekend. He kinda roped me into going, and I was just wondering if you were free…? I would, um, it’d be cool if you could stop by.”
Parties haven’t been your thing for a long time; you tried to party freshman year, since people seemed to go on about the college parties. You just couldn’t get super into it, plus only things like the Play-Doh incident came from parties… and that’s why you’re not sure why you say, “Yeah, no, I should be free. I’ll check it out.”
You aren't even free, you have an essay you’ve written approximately two sentences for that happens to be due Monday. But the smile on Gunwook’s face makes agreeing feel like the right choice.
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Immediately upon stepping inside, you remember why you hate parties. One, you lose Hanbin instantly. Two, trying to push through a bunch of sweaty, drunk people (who are surprisingly sturdy) is a pain in the ass. And three, it’s loud, you already feel like you need a drink. Or maybe three.
You manage to make it to a mostly empty kitchen, and at that point, you’ve lost any motivation to go search for Hanbin or even Gunwook. For the most part, you’ve given up caring about being ‘lame’, so, you’re perfectly content sitting in the kitchen on your phone at a party while sipping on possibly the worst quality beer you’ve tasted in your twenty years of life.
It’s maybe thirty minutes until you finally look up from your phone at the call of your name over the ear-damaging volume of music.
Hanbin stumbles into the kitchen, using Gunwook as support. You can make out your friend’s flushed cheeks, even in the dim lighting, you have no idea how he’s gotten drunk so fast. “There you are! I found Gunwookie, it looked like he was waitin’ around for you, ‘cause he was just in a corner lookin’ around… didn’t you guys exchange numbers?”
“I already told you I forgot to ask…” Gunwook mumbles.
“Oh,” Hanbin lets go of Gunwook to slide up beside you, “Hey, did you know that, um—” Gunwook rushes over to slap a hand over Hanbin’s mouth, are they both drunk? It’s more difficult to tell with Gunwook, his cheeks always look pink…
Hanbin removes Gunwook’s hand with a glare, “Don’t interrupt me,” he chides, as sternly as he can while drunk. “Anyway, ‘m so glad you two figured things out. I hope Gunwook tells you about his massive heart boner for you.”
Hanbin makes it probably ten times worse by continuing, “He’s—he’s had such a big crush on you since like, um, since like the millisecond he joined the team. But this whole time you thought he was mean to you, isn’t that silly?”
What isn’t silly is the look on Gunwook’s face, he looks positively mortified.
“...Okay, Bin, I think you’re ready to go home already,” you smile tersely, side-stepping the topic for now, maybe forever actually. “Gunwook, can you help me with him?” You ignore Hanbin’s slurred protests. It must take a moment for Gunwook to recoup before he’s at Hanbin’s other side, helping you pull the drunkard up.
You avoid looking in Gunwook’s direction, despite the fact you can feel him burning holes into the side of your head. Of course, there’s no avoiding the conversation—inevitably, you’re going to have to talk to Gunwook about what Hanbin said, but maybe you can get out of it tonight…?
It’s not that you’re particularly afraid… okay, well, you are, except it’s just unnecessary anxiety. Now you feel better about admitting to yourself that you’re interested in Gunwook. But what if Hanbin’s drunk rambling was just drunk rambling, and it was all nonsense? Well, Gunwook probably wouldn’t seem so nervous if that were the case, but maybe he’s nervous because he just doesn’t want you to be under the impression that he—
“Oh, hey, I’ve been looking everywhere for Hanbin…”
“Oh, Hao, hey.” you mentally thank Hao for unknowingly rescuing you from spiraling into your annoyingly irrational train of thought.
“Do you want me to take him off your hands? We were planning to ditch before he disappeared.”
Okay, time to put on your big person pants and be an adult. “Yeah, thanks.” Handing Hanbin off is pretty easy, the man completely unbothered that he’s thrown two of his protégés for a loop (he’ll probably feel a lot worse about it tomorrow, especially when he’s hungover). What’s less easy, is being left with Gunwook.
“Well, since Hanbin aired everything out…”
“Right, yeah. We should talk, maybe outside?”
Gunwook nods, leading the way to the back door, you follow closely behind him. As not to lose him in the clusters of people, and maybe just because you want to, you grab onto his arm.
Outside, your eardrums thank you for finally getting out of there, though your nervous heart is another story, rattling against your ribcage incessantly. Warily, you avoid looking at Gunwook, distancing yourself a good few feet away from him, “So…”
“I like you,” Gunwook blurts as if he won’t get another chance to say so, “like a lot. I initially joined the team ‘cause of you actually, I hadn’t even danced since middle school. But you were so—watching you on stage at orientation felt so… enchanting.”
Heat rushes to your cheeks at Gunwook’s flattery, and he only continues, “I thought you were perfect, so obviously I immediately signed up for the dance team, even though I wasn’t even sure if I was any good at it anymore, just so I could have an excuse to see you. Only for me to never gain the courage to even talk to you…” Staring at the wooden planks of the porch beneath your feet, you see Gunwook’s beaten-up Converse come into view, urging you to look up again.
“Gunwook, I—”
“It’s okay if you don’t feel anything like that for me, I just can’t let the what-ifs get in the way of me trying anymore.” Oh, how could you not feel something for him? Surely anyone could fall for him just by staring into his pretty brown eyes.
The weird feeling in your gut, which must be those butterflies people talk about, amplifies, you think you’d have to be a fool if you didn’t feel something for Gunwook Park. “I don’t… not feel something,” you hastily avert your gaze, “I guess I’m not entirely sure what it is, but I am interested in you. I, um, would be open to exploring that.”
“I understand—wait, you… really?”
You look up in time to see the overjoyed grin split Gunwook’s lips. It’s infectious, you can’t help but mirror his smile, laugh tumbling past your lips, “Yes, you dork. You better sweep me off my feet.”  You playfully shove at his shoulder.
“I will,” Gunwook grabs your wrist before you drop your arm, thumbing at the inside of it, “are you free tomorrow?”
“I…” You aren’t free, remember that pesky essay of yours? “Yeah, I am.” Oh, well, you suppose it can wait; likely until tomorrow night, when you finally open your laptop at eleven-thirty at night, when it happens to be due at midnight. You happen to work great under pressure!
“Perfect, can I pick you up at your place at two?”
“Sure, are you gonna remember to ask for my number this time, though?” You tease, making a ‘give me’ motion with your free hand.
Gunwook’s cheeks somehow get pinker, as he finally lets go of your wrist and retrieves his phone from his pocket, handing it over with the new contact screen open. Quickly, you type in your number and then your name, cheekily adding a heart beside it.
“Can I walk you home? Or, uh, if you wanted to go back to the party, that’s fine too…”
“Nah,” you’d rather do just about anything else than go back into that mess, you’ve had enough parties for the rest of your college life, “I’m pretty tired, and I have a super important date with a great guy tomorrow.”
With a coy smile to match Gunwook’s shy one, you cozy up to his side and link arms with him, “Let’s go?”
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You’d still consider dancing to be a great way to unwind—still one of your favorites, it's just been demoted to second place.
Nothing ebbs away your stress like Gunwook popping into your room with your favorite food after you’ve been staring at your laptop screen for hours as if you were hoping your assignments would finish themselves. Or his hugs—always so warm, it’s like hugging an oversized stuffed bear. Or just… him.
Unrivaled after several years, dancing has finally met its match: Gunwook Park.
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108 notes · View notes
mangosrar · 6 months
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Tough guy Jasper.
pt2 of middle game!!
chris sturniolo x fem reader.
pt1 “middle game”
warnings: alottttt of angst, fighting, chris being a hero 🫶
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"Hey nick whats up?". It was currently around 6.30pm on a friday night and Rue was getting ready for a party. Some influencer had invited her, Nick, Matt and Chris and each of them a plus one. Nick and Matt had decided against bringing anyone but, obviously Chris was bringing his girlfriend, Sophie, and Rue was bringing Jasper, her boyfriend of 4 months. How fun.
"I was just wondering if you needed Matt to pick you up later?" His voice rang through the speaker.
"Uh no its good Jaspers gonna drive us there" The girl internally screamed at the thought of Chris and Jasper being within a mile radious of eachother. Truth was, after Rue and Chris had confessed to being in love with eachother, they fooled around for a while before Chris miraculously decided he wasnt ready for a relationship. So naturally Rue did what she saw best fit: to get over one man, get under another, however the irony was, she was still getting under the guy she was trying to get over. Both of them were just as bad as eachother, proven so, when Chris had found out that his beloved Rue had moved on, obviously he had to do the same.
"Oh okay cool. I cant wait to see you, we havent seen you in like 2 weeks bro" Rue couldn’t help but scrunch her face up at the word. We. She wished she could be honest with her best friend but how was she supposed to say 'Nick youre so silly, its just you and matt i havent seen, i was actually getting my bones jumped by your brother last night behind my boyfriends back but snuck out this morning before anyone was up. See you at the party!!!'. She was doomed.
"Me too Nick, ive missed you so much" She wrapped up the conversation and carried on getting ready, but she couldn’t shake the overarching feeling of guilt. She was lying to everyone she loved. Well all but one.
7.30 pm rolled around fast and before she knew it she was waiting for Jasper to pull up. She felt and looked great. Clad in a skin tight dress that stopped just below her knees, white heels, and a perfect amount of clevage on show. Jasper will love this, but Chris would love it more. And just like he infiltrated her thoughts, he infiltrated her attention. Her phone chimed and she raced to check it.
Chris: Tough guy Jaspers coming huh?
Rue: Yes. Sophie?
Chris: Na something came up shes not coming. But you will be 🙃
Rue: Talkin about you "making me come" and your girlfriends name in the same sentence? player
Chris: You know it sweetheart. See you soon.
Asshole.
The party was heaving by the time they arrived. The smell of alcohol and weed heavy in the air. Nick had quickly found Rue and Jasper, Matt in tow, but Chris was nowhere to be seen.
"Wheres Chris?" She couldnt help but ask, curiosity killed the cat.
"Hes outside on the phone to Sophie, he'll be over in a sec" Matt replied shooting her a tight lipped smile. Rue was never really that close to Matt, sure they were freinds but not like how she was with Chris or Nick.
"Speak of the devil and he shall apear" Jasper muttered but it fell on deaf ears, hed said it quiet enough for only her to hear. Jasper was never really fond of Chris. Or anyone who came near his girlfriend really. He always said Chris was 'too friendly' or 'too handsy'. You dont know the half of it.
"Rue, long time no see" Chris pulled rue in for a hug. His hands rested just above her ass and he seperated himself from the girl with a toothy grin, she threw him a warning look saying 'carefull', he just moved his eyes to the left of her and let them land on Jasper.
"What up bro" Chris held his hand out for Jasper to take and he ignored him completely. Not even sparing him a glance.
"Jas dont be rude" She looked over to Jasper with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows, after realising she had been staring at Chris this entire time. Jasper just scoffed and continued looking everywhere but Rue or her friends. Rue wanted the floor to open and swallow her up right there and then. Chris just raised his eyebrows and scoffed with a surprised smile turning to look at the poor girl. The look on his face told her everything his mouth didnt. Tough guy Jasper. Huh.
"Im gonna go get a drink ill be back in a sec" She didnt even wanna think about how awkward it would be after she walked away. Making a bee line for the kitchen island that was full of different drinks, she picked up the vodka, popped the lid off the bottle and started chugging. Ew.
The party was now well and truly under way and Rue was definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol. Chris had been watching her all night, he was like a hunter watching its prey, ready to pounce any second. He had been watching Jasper put his hands all over Rue where his should be. He hated it. It was like torture. He just wanted to go over there and beat Jasper to a bloody pulp, but somehow he couldnt help but be angry at her. He couldnt understand why she was letting Jasper touch her like that when she knew Chris was watching.
There were drunk or high bodies dancing all over eachother, including Rue and Jasper. He was far too drunk for his girlfriends liking but she didnt care. Her back was flush to his chest and she was dancing on him like it was nobodys business. except Chris'. He was like a hawk. He sat across from where they were dancing, scowl on his face, smoking a blunt, man spreading in all his glory for her too see, and god did he look sexy. If it wasnt for the man behind her whispering how horny he was in her ear, she would have walked Chris out of that party and fucked him in the car. For a moment she considered it, but Jasper had other ideas.
He grabbed her arm and before she knew it they were in the hallway about to be lead up the stairs. The same stairs she had just been up with Chris about an hour ago. His face between her legs in some random bathroom, her hand slapped over her mouth.
"You like this dont you mh? Coming on my face while you’re boyfriend waits for you down stairs?" He tutted at her.
"I hope you dont kiss your girlfreind with that mouth" She breathed out in a strangled whine, as Chris dived back in, devouring her like a starved man. He didn’t even bother to respond, he just looked up at her and smirked.
Focus Rue.
She pulled back slightly stopping her boyfreind in his tracks.
"What are you doing?" Her voice slightly raised so he would hear you over the music. Jasper came closer to her grabbing her ass, moving his face down to her ear, planting kisses there.
"Come on baby i need you right now" He continued running his hands all over, despite rue trying to push him off.
"I dont want to Jasper. lets just wait until we get home" He was a man who could not be moved. He continued pulling her towards the stairs but she was having none of it.
"Jas come on" Rue struggled in his grip. He ignored her protests and carried on pulling her arm. His grip was unwavering and she was sure there would be bruises in the morning. Rue wasn’t weak by any means, but Jasper was much stronger than she was.
"Jasper stop it, youre hurting me" She was now panicked and stone cold sober, distress evident in her shaky voice, and desperately pulling against him but he was not letting up. He carried on pulling her through the hall way towards the stairs in a death grip.
She was helpless, the only thing running through her mind was how Chris would never do this. Chris. Chris. Chris.
CHRIS.
Before she could even protest Chris had lached his hands onto Jaspers shirt, roughly pulling him back, away from Rue. Jasper came stumbling back and it was like everything was suddenly going in slowmotion. The look on Chris' face spoke volumes, 'i’m going to tell him'. She kept her eyes on his, wordlessly begging not to say anything. But before she could even get a word in, Chris opened his mouth.
"She asked you to stop tough guy" His chest was heaving and he looked like he was about to rip Jaspers throat out. He protectively stood infront of the girl, putting a barrier between Rue and her boyfriend. People were now crowding around the two boys after hearing the commotion, waiting in anticipation.
"Chris please" She silently begged for him not to. He knew what she was asking but he didnt care.
"If i wanna fuck my girlfriend i will, you dont need to be so pissed just because she wont let you fuck her Chris" Jaspers words were slurred and he could barely stand straight. Chris had a shit eating grin on his face and Rue knew it was coming before it even happened, clasping her hands together, praying for some sort of relief from a god she had no right to beg for. Not with how far she had come.
"Oh but she does" Before Rue or Jasper could even get a word in Chris sent a searing punch straight at him, his fist connecting with Jaspers jaw, sending him flying onto his back, and in no time Chris was on top of him sending hit after hit.
Rue was yelling at Chris to stop, but he couldn't even hear her. He was like a man posessed, Relentless with his hits. Matt and Nick appeared from the living room after hearing all the comotion, but all they could see was her face. The look of pure horror so evident, they knew it was Chris and Jasper. Matt made his way through the crowd and pulled Chris off of Jasper. His nuckles were bloody and he stood there panting, looking down at his bloody handywork lying on the floor. Jasper was bleeding from everywhere. Rue stood speechless, her wide eyes jumping between the two boys, waiting for Chris to say or do anthing. At this point the tears were full force running down her face. Chris turned to her and his face softened at the sight of her weeping, it was like something had changed in his eyes but she couldnt figure out what.
"Rue..." It was like he was the only person in the room. How could he do this? How could he embaress her like this? His hand reached out to touch her arm but she pulled away from him and pushed past him, making sure to shove his shoulder with her own on the way out the front door.
"Victoria!" She heard someone yell after her and she was sure it was Matt, but she was too focused on getting as far away from Chris as she could.
She was so angry she felt sick. Chris had no right to do that. He had no right to interfere with her relationship like that. She wanted to wring his neck. She wanted to tell the whole world just how terrible he was, like he had just done to her.
What he didn’t understand was that she had the information to ruin his relationship and possibly his life. He embarrassed her and carved his name into her back, and she had a golden opportunity to destroy everything on a nuclear scale. Why wouldn’t she use it? The truth was she knew there were two ways to end a war. Going nuclear or just simply walking away. She wouldn’t gain anything by shooting him down or drawing a knife straight through the heart of his ego. It didn’t make her life any better. And this hit for hit thing they've had going on these past few months, was lasting a little too long for Rues liking.
nothing better than seeing a man w bloody knuckles 😛😛😛😛😛😛
@christinarowie332 @sturniolostvrs @kitaysworld @urmyslxt @biimpanicking @soursturniolo @sturnphilia @cupidtoast @lividnity @sukiwaterhousestan @freshlovehacker @deatthmatch @fandomhopped
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stevie-petey · 3 months
Note
hiiiiiiiii honey <3 could we get a blurb about bug telling steve about jonathan’s outburst towards her after he took the pictures of nancy and steve’s reaction to learning about it???? it would be so so appreciated by me <3 you’re the best ever <3 MWAH
(i am being held against my will to write this jonathan sweetie im so sorry) (i love u val) (u are evil)
i know this isnt necessarily what u MEANT but ,,, ive been dying to expand upon bugs kindness and how it may seem annoying and pathetic, but its hers ! its her kindness !!!
enjoy <3
"no way you guys havent wanted to strangle each other at least once." steve remarks one day as he watches you and jonathan work side by side at the cash register.
jonathan had been bored today and decided to join you and steve at work, something that you're very happy about, honestly.
"oh, ive definitely wanted to strangle jonathan," you say, writing down a new shipment receipt while the boy next to you doodles.
steve rolls his eyes. "old married couple squabbling doesnt count. im talking, like, full on betrayal and hurt here. you guys are always so... you, and it has to be an act."
jonathan snorts. "shouldve seen the fights we had last year. surprised y/n didnt kill me with her bare hands."
"i dont believe you."
"no, hes right." you look up at steve. "he threw a jacket at my face last year and then told me we werent family the night he took those pictures of nancy. then cried in my arms like a day later."
steve stares at you, shocked.
"i also then slept in nancys bed and lied about it. and tried leaving you behind a few times."
"that you did," you flick jonathans ear, causing him to wince in pain. "you deserved that."
"i did."
during this entire exchange, steve hasnt said a single word. hes still stunned, baffled by the fact that jonathan could be so cruel to someone so wonderful.
"wait a second," he looks between you and jonathan. "and youre still friends?"
"yeah." you both say at the same time.
steve cant fucking believe it. you do anything and everything for jonathan, that much is obvious, and sure. steve has seen jonathan do small acts of kindness towards you, devote the same back, but to throw a jacket at you and belittle you? and now here he is, joking about it alongside you. as if it was all okay in the end.
"youre too nice sometimes, y/n." the words leave steves lips before he can stop them. once he realizes what hes said, he looks up at jonathan and panics. "sorry, man. im sure you guys talked it out and... yeah."
jonathan shrugs. "no, youre right. she is and i was dick."
"im right here, you know."
steve winces. "sorry."
"its fine, honestly." you go back to scribbling shipment orders. "i am indeed too nice, but i dont ever really see the point in holding a grudge? i mean, jonathan apologized and i understood the stress he was under. sure, it didnt erase all the hurt he caused, but after almost dying immediately after being mad at him for not including me in something... i dont know. it felt silly to hold onto that anger after. childish, even."
jonathan and steve share a look, for once both seeming to think the same thing.
shes too good.
you hate that they do this. you hate that people view your kindness as a weakness. after the hell youve been through, long before monsters even came to hawkins, youve learned the hard way just how rare kindness is.
now you try to be kind to everything and everyone, no matter what it may cost you.
the kindness is yours, no one elses.
and if that makes you weak, then at least it made you better.
you tear two pieces paper from your notebook, scrunch them up into balls, and then throw them at steve and jonathan. "stop pitying me. im kind and i love that aspect of myself. i dont care if it makes me vulnerable or pathetic. its a piece of me, and i wouldnt change it. if you dont like it, then that belittles me even more than emotional outbursts ever could."
jonathan sighs. "youre right, bug. youre a very kind and lovely person and its what makes you a joy to be around, paper balls and all."
steve plays along. "definitely a better super power than spider-man, dare i say."
"okay, lets not get ahead of ourselves now," you giggle, appreciative of both the boys. they may not understand or like the way you view the world, but theyre at least trying.
its all you could ask for.
even if steve later on that day pulls you aside to whisper, "i think i can kick jonathans ass this time, if you ever need it."
and its enough.
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redr0sewrites · 9 months
Text
Overworking (Eris Vanserra x reader)
i love eris hes so underrated! this is incredibly self indulgent, but not very well proofread 😭 i havent written for acotar yet, lmk what u think! reqs are open!!
🥀CW: Angst to fluff, shitty writing, eris is sad, arguments, overworking
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eris knew pain. his whole life, eris had suffered at the hands of his father and brothers and he never expected it to end, never dared to hope for anything good, knowing it could so easily be stripped away. nobody could care for a man as broken and horrid as eris vanserra, especially not someone as perfect as you.
you were eris' salvation, his perfect companion, mate, and lover. eris knew you were more precious then anyone or anything else, and many nights had been lost to his anxieties about your safety. if he lost you, he knew that he couldn't handle it, and yet it seemed so easy for you to slip through his fingers, disappear like so many other people in his life had. eris had watched the light inside his own mother fade as she became a soulless husk from being subjected to the horrors of his father, and he would rather die then watch the same happen to you. he wanted you safe, he wanted to push you away from the dangers of his court, and yet his heart ached for you every waking hour. you were too kind, too good for him.
the long hours of working under his father were beginning to break eris, even he was finding it difficult to hide behind the mask of the sneering and cruel son. the bags under his eyes were heavy, and he couldn't remember the last time he had slept. his stomach was nearly always empty, the thought of eating only made him feel worse. it was killing you to watch eris tear himself apart, and yet whenever you brought it up it always seemed to lead to eris lashing out. tonight was another night of waiting for him to join you in bed, staring at the illuminated crack between the door seperating your shared bedroom from his office. as the time ticked by, you just couldn't take it anymore, and stood, marching up to the door and opening it harshly. eris was sitting hunched over at his desk, his hair falling lazily across his face as he looked over some papers.
"we need to talk," you said sternly, his figure unmoving and stiff.
"can it wait?" he sighed, exasperated and clearly irritated at your interrupting of his work.
"no! no it cant wait! you have been overworking yourself for weeks, months even! i dont know whats gotten into you, but you need to stop, we need to talk about this! losing sleep and refusing to eat is not going to help you defeat your father, and if something or someone is causing an issue, then we should discuss it together!" you couldnt stop the words from tumbling out of your mouth, and your voice grew gradually louder before it came to a stop. you expected a reaction, expected him to stop his work or at least look at you. instead, he merely sighed, burying his head in his hands.
"this isnt easy for me either," he said, his voice dangerously soft. "perhaps if you werent always interrupting me, you would understand how difficult this is."
"so is that what i am? an interruption and nothing more? a nuisance for you to sway away?" you were angry now, and your words were heated and meant to hurt. eris' face shot up, and you could see the torment in his eyes.
"i.. i dont..." eris trailed off, leaving you feeling even worse then before. angry tears welled in your eyes, and you turn away to leave when his voice stops you.
"there are so many dangers that reside in this court, so many dangers that come with facing off with my father. i dont know how to solve these problems, i dont know how to keep you safe, i dont know anything anymore." his voice trembled, and his shoulders start to shake and shiver. too late, you realized he was crying. immediately you stepped towards him, swerving around the desk and wrapping your arms around him. eris buried his head in your chest, melting into your embrace and began to sob.
"please... please dont leave me. i cant lose you too" his words made your heart break, and you hugged him impossibly tighter and he did the same, as though fearful that yoh might disappear before his eyes if he were to let go. you whispered soft, sweet nothings to your lover as he wept, the stress and burdens of the past month leaving his mouth in garbled complaints, gasps, and sobs. you ran your hands through his hair, gently holding him as his crying began to subside and he stilled in your arms. for a few seconds, you both just sat there as he matched his breathing to yours, finding peace within your presence.
"do you want to talk about it?" you ask, voice gentle and concerned.
"not right now," he mumbled. "i jus' want to sleep." you chuckle at his confession, and begin to stand. he follows you to the bedroom, and the two of you curl up on the bed. as the both of you begin to drift off to sleep, eris cant help but feel a surge of gratitude for your kindness and patience. eris may know suffering, and he may face more in the future, but at least he has you at his side to support him.
rahh this sucks so bad but i love him sm. hes so silly and underrated aksnksd i love my little fox man. i promise i can write better then this im just tired and in pain guys ajdjdn ANYWAYS HOPE U ENJOYED REQS ARE OPEN I WILL WRITE MORE FOR ERIS THE LOML SOON👹👹👹
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charbles · 8 months
Note
In your AU who is your all time favorite and why?
Anon, I've been thinking about this for hours, I'm NOT joking, This au has been around since 2018, its a very special thing to me, its gotten me personally through ALOT of shit, and its one of Me and Ricks (@galacticaldisaster) first au's/rewrites we've EVER done together, this au short is SO SO important to me which is why its SO HARD just to choose one character, you feel me? On top of that Rick and I try to implement literally EVERYONE into this au, we Cherry-pick from books, we include EVERYONE from AR, there are GENUINELY so many options!
My favorites bounce around alot due to whoever i'm focusing on developing and the likes but i think i've got a solid tie for #1! and ive got reasons for why its a tie :]!
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Chris is my favorite out of all of the characters i've written purely because he makes me very sad, I think i did the best job writing him as a character, hes balanced in the sense that hes a heartbreaking character and yet i think he stays child-like in essence, hes got reason for what he does but he goes about it like a 6 year old would, a very scared 6 year old
Which brings me to my second favorite of all of the characters, Richie. Richie is this au's FNAF 3 Phone dude, I havent really talked about Richie too much, besides the mention from last night. But richie will ALWAYS be on top, mostly because he is the very first character i wrote for this au, WAAAYYY back when i was 15, the very first picture i EVER drew of this au was of Richie Scott, Age 17, Threatening to hit someone with a lightning mcqueen Croc. Richie and Phillip's (@galacticaldisaster s phone guy) whole concept came from a game of Garrys Mod where we were being little idiots and beating the shit out of eachother with fnaf character models! I also just think Richies silly :]
Legally i DO have to give you all my favorite of Ricks characters;
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You all obviously know springtrap/william, absolute motherfucker, but RICK. RICK HAS THE AUDACITY, THE G A L L to both turn him into the saddest dad you've EVER met, and the scariest and i mean, SCARIEST William ive ever read. seriously, dudes believe me, Rick's writing for his devolve from a dad/ business man to murderous deranged killer is GENUINELY my favorite, I've seen alot of interps of william, and maybe im a bit biased, But Ricks is my favorite.
Now Phillip is in the same vein of Richie, hes the phone guy and was made during a game of Gmod via rambling, but Phils character and story is genuinely very very :[ i love him, he is my favorite white boy, Phillip my beloved little corporate slave turned Man Fuck This Place >:,[ i wont talk about his story too much, but its sad, and i fucking adore him and will kill for him
an honorable mention for ricks, who i will not be sharing pictures of is Jeremy Fitzgerald, because rick is the ONLY person i know who has implemented the fact jeremy carved his fucking face off and also once again? i love him. hes a FUCKER.
HONORABLE MENTIONS BELOW CUT!!
my FAVORITE fucker to draw is malhare.
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look at this fucking idiot, i love him, and yet he is ABSOLUTELY TERRIFYING. HE IS A MENACE. this guy and his bestie in au is ARE ABSOLUTE FREAKS. FUCK UP YOUR LIFE FLAVORED FREAKS!!
annnnndd currently my favorite character to write for is Vanny and the Tape girl (Delilah!) :]
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i will not be giving context to this image :]
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gunsatthaphan · 1 year
Text
~ Monthly BL Breakdown: October 2022 ~  
☔️ Happy November!!! ☔️
Disclaimer: ALL shows can be streamed here or here, as well as on Dailymotion and Youtube. For more info on where to watch what, check out this post! 
New breakdowns coming at the end of every month - feel free to add stuff! (previous breakdowns)
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What came out this month? (green tick = seen or currently watching)
🌟 To Sir, With Love - October 3rd (Thailand)
🌟 Kabe Koji - October 3rd (Japan)
🌟 Kabe Sa Doujin Sakka no Neko Yashiki-kun wa Shouninyokkyou wo Kojiraseteiru  - October 4th (Japan)
🌟 Ghost Host, Ghost House - October 5th (Thailand)
🌟 Two and One - October 5th (Philippines)
🌟 Catch Me Baby - October 6th (Thailand)
🌟 Big Dragon - October 8th (Thailand) 
🌟 My Roommate - October 8th (Thailand) 
🌟 Paradise - October 8th (Philippines) 
🌟 Remember Me - October 9th (Thailand) ✅
🌟 2 Moons 3: The Ambassador - October 10th (Thailand)
🌟 Self - September 13th (Thailand)
🌟 Roommates of Poongduck 304 - October 13th (South Korea) ✅
🌟 My Tooth Your Love - October 14th (Taiwan)
🌟 Hard Love Mission - October 15th (Thailand)
🌟 Love is Right - October 17th (South Korea) 
🌟 Why You… Y Me? - October 19th (Thailand) 
🌟 Eternal Yesterday - October 21st (Japan)
🌟 Choco Milk Shake - October 25th (South Korea)
🌟 My Friendship 2: Before the Rainbow - October 28th (Thailand)
🌟 Grand Guignol (Horror Movie) - October 28th (Japan)
🌟 Till the World Ends - October 29th (Thailand)
🌟 Love Bill - October 29th (Vietnam)
Monthly likes/dislikes
❣️ The Eclipse - Gonna put this on here for one last time because how can I not lmao. It wasn’t perfect and there were some bumps in the road but it was still a masterpiece to me. It was obvious that everything about it came from a place of sincerity and passion from everyone involved and the characters, as well as the stories they told, meant so much to me. Idk if others feel that way but yeah. It’s hard to top for sure.  
❣️ Roommates of Poongduck 304 - YO this show is amazing. I havent seen anyone talk about it so yeah definitely criminally underrated. The writing is genius, the dialogues are witty and the acting is amazing. Truly a top-notch production in every possible way with all the kdrama feels but yknow... gay lmao. Highly recommend!!!!! 
👎🏻  Oh My Sunshine Night - I don’t know where this show went wrong but it was a disaster. It’s been slow from the get go but it was nearly unbearable towards the end. The second half was just a loop of the same scenes and the same lines over and over again which is a shame because I know OhmFluke can do better. 18 episodes wasted. What a flop. 
New series & movie announcements
🎥 HIStory 5: Love in the Future - Date TBA (Taiwan) 
🎥 Individual Circumstances - Date TBA (South Korea) 
🎥 Takumi-kun Series 6 - Coming 2023 (Japan)
🎥 Paano Kaya Kung Tayo (movie) - Date TBA (Philippines) 
🎥 Star Struck - Date TBA (South Korea) 
🎥 A Story to Remember - Date TBA (Philippines) 
🎥 Home Par - Date TBA (Singapore) 
🎥 Liquor - Coming late 2022 (South Korea)
🎥 Unintentional Love Story (starring Woo Taemin and others) - Date TBA (South Korea) 
🎥 Future - Date TBA (Thailand) 
🎥 Jump - Coming January 2023 (Thailand) 
🎥 My Beautiful Man: The Movie - Date TBA (Japan) 
🎥 Marry My Dead Body (movie) - Coming February 10th 2023 (Taiwan)
🎥 Fueang Nakorn (City of Stars) (produced by StarHunter) - Date TBA (Thailand) 
🎥 House of Stars - Date TBA (Thailand) 
🎥 La Pluie - Date TBA (Thailand) 
🎥 For Him - Date TBA (Thailand) 
🎥 Sukisuki Wanwan - Date TBA (Japan) 
🎥 Moments of Love - Date TBA (Thailand) 
Other news from the BL world
❗️ The upcoming Thai BL Midnight Fortune has been cancelled. It’s unclear whether or not a different company will pick it up. 
❗️The upcoming Korean remake of the Thai BL “Why R U” has finished filming and is now in postproduction. The air date has yet to be announced. 
❗️The upcoming Thai BL Make a Wish has wrapped filming. The pilot trailer was released on October 28th. The air date has yet to be announced. 
❗️The Thai BL Unforgotten Night will have a special episode. There are no further details yet. 
❗️A special episode for Love in the Air has been announced for November 26th, which will be released on Vimeo. 
❗️Actor Ahn Jihoo (All of us are Dead) as well as actress and singer Kim Doyeon have joined the cast for the upcoming Korean BL Heesu in Class 2.
❗️A movie version for the Japanese BL “My Beautiful Man” has been announced. Filming started in mid October. A release date hasn’t been announced yet. 
❗️The upcoming Thai BL Wish Me Luck released its first teaser. The show will air in 2023. 
❗️The Thai BL “A Tale of Thousand Stars” won the Special Award For Foreign Drama at the The Tokyo Drama Awards 2022. 
❗️The upcoming Korean BL Starstruck has started filming. The series will consist of 8 episodes. 
❗️The upcoming GMMTV BL Be My Favorite will commence shooting in November. 
Upcoming series & movies for November
☝🏻 Love of Secret - November 5th (Thailand) 
☝🏻 Between Us - November 6th (Thailand) 
☝🏻 Semantic Error: The Movie (digital release) - November 11th (South Korea)
☝🏻 I Will Knock You - November 18th (Thailand) 
☝🏻 GAP (GL) - November 19th (Thailand) 
☝🏻 609 Bedtime Story - November 26th (Thailand) 
☝🏻 My School President - November TBA (Thailand) 
☝🏻 Happy Ending Outside the Fence - November TBA (South Korea)
☝🏻 Young Hoon - November TBA (South Korea)
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rykno-gs · 1 year
Text
Soup /gs
With Sumeru came Al/ha/itham and with him came K/ave/h
I havent written in awhile so here goes (3.7k words)
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(the parts from Kaveh’s pov was very choppy since i wanted to try to make it seem like he was disorientated)
also kaveh’s snezes were mostly in smallcaps because hes tired
-
Alhaitham was already pissed the moment he came home. Dishes stacked up taller than him, clothes strewn all around the living room, blueprints scattered across the floor, the culprit nowhere in sight.
Speaking of which, where was his annoying roommate? It wasn’t like Kaveh to leave the house this early into the day since all he did was go out and drink, with Alhaitham’s money, no less, and the bar did not open until night.
Perhaps Kaveh had actually found himself some work to do. Alhaitham felt himself scoff at that thought. The day that Kaveh really went out and got a job would be the day that Alhaitham finally plucked up the courage to confessed to him — never; impossible.
It was how it was, how it will always be. Kaveh would always do something to mess with Alhaitham, they’d argue, Kaveh would go and drink for hours, but he would always come home. Even if Alhaitham had threatened to kick him out moments before.
He blames it on his horrible taste in men that makes his heart beat so fast whenever Kaveh is around him, blames it on the fact Kaveh shines so bright; “Light of the Kshahrewar”. 
He blames it on the fact he had let Kaveh stay at his house at all. But he wanted it, wanted that proximity for reasons he could not understand. It frustrated him, these feelings which he couldn’t quite put a name to.
Why he felt so strongly for Kaveh escapes him.
But back to the matter he had on hand, his roommate would never learn to pick up after himself if Alhaitham just did his chores for him. It was still early, he could wait all day for Kaveh’s return.
And that’s just what he did, propping a leg up onto the coffee table as he read a good book.
-
Kaveh just wanted to lie down.  
His head had been hurting for a few days, and his throat had started to feel off since last night after his arguing session with the most infuriating Scribe in the whole of Sumeru, who also happened to be his roommate.
He had left the house in the morning after adding a plate to the tall pile of dishes at the sink, partly to piss Alhaitham off, but also partly because he wanted to head to the pharmacy as soon as possible to get something for his head.
Trust Alhaitham to be the only person he knows who does not have a stockpile of medicine at home on standby.
But they could argue more about that later, for there was a bigger problem right in front of him. 
“...”
“Out of Stock? You’ve got to be kidding me..”
The shop assistant looked at him apologetically, having sold the last bottle to the customer before Kaveh. And so there he was, back onto the streets with nothing left to do. Kaveh remembers feeling the same way until Alhaitham took him in.
Alhaitham.. Kaveh didn’t even know where to begin when it came to him. Everything the man said made sense, but yet it also did not. Sure, patterned curtains made no difference when it came to fulfilling their purpose, but plain ones were just so.. unartistic. It had taken a week of arguing for Alhaitham to finally allow Kaveh to install some new ones in his own room. 
Just thinking about the whole ordeal made Kaveh’s head pound a little harder. While he would have opted to head to the doctor, the bill would have exceeded his budget. And he would rather die than let Alhaitham know he wasn’t feeling well when he settled the payment.
Then, a thought struck him: a friend did say that the nearby Liyue Harbor had a pharmacy that sold many different types of medicine. Not like he had much of a choice at that moment, though. Right, it was just a quick walk over and back, simple enough.
And simple it was, until it started to drizzle, the weather as unpredictable as Alhaitham during this part of the year.
Ah.. there he goes again, thinking of that stupid Scribe every second of the day. Truly, even Kaveh sometimes did not understand what went on in that brilliant mind of his and his. But still, he longed to hurry home, to be near the damned person that tormented him with every step he took.
Dark clouds blanketed the sky, making it appear darker than it should, even this late into the night. Unconsciously, Kaveh reached up to rub his nose a little, feeling a light breeze drift pass him.
“Heh- Nn..hHaH’ Hih-hAtchuu’! snf.. hAH’tchH!!” 
He was shivering now, stepping carefully towards his front door. The half-a-day walk had left him more exhausted than Kaveh would ever admit. Alhaitham’s shoes were already there, not surprising since it was already way past dinner time. What was surprising though, was the light that still streamed out off the window. 
Subconsciously, Kaveh frowns. It was late, judging by how far the moon had risen into the sky. He hoped Alhaitham wasn’t once again pulling an all-nighter. Those tended to leave him tired and irritable for the next few days despite how much he denied it. While Kaveh would definitely not want to deal with a tired-tham, he also wanted his junior to look after himself. 
How stupid of him, he supposes, since Alhaitham could care less about the people around him, much less himself. And yet Kaveh still kept running back to him everyday, sleeping in the same house with but a wall between them.
With a sigh he turns his key with a slight sniffle, the small lion keychain wet from the rain.
-
Alhaitham hears the lock, and he almost springs up to answer it. It was way too late for Kaveh to just come waltzing through the door as if nothing had happened. But instead he chose to remain as unbothered as possible, staring blankly at his book.
The dishes would not clean themselves, Kaveh would have to do them. Yes, that was the true reason why he had stayed up this late, to watch Kaveh wash plates, that was all, nothing more.
The door opened with a creak, but the head of golden hair did not pop out to start a shouting match.
Behind the short hallway between the door and the living room, Kaveh hung up his coat and kicked off his shoes, not caring where they landed. Now that he as home, the warmth and dryness of it all made all his pent up exhaustion catch up to him. 
Kaveh sniffled, softly, bracing a hand onto the wall as his head started to spin. When was the last time he ate? Lunch? He ate a small bread for lunch. Dinner? He spent most of the day traveling to Liyue and back didn’t he.. Maybe there was something in the fridge he could-
“Hitc’Hh!! hH.. eH’ Hih- tchiw!! hAtcH’ngXt!! ssnf-!” 
Quickly, Kaveh pinched those away, afraid that Alhaitham would be alerted by his arrival home. He would hate to be seen in this state. However, as if on cue, Kaveh heard the sound of a book being slammed shut.
“Kaveh.” 
The voice sounded impatient. Had he done something wrong? He couldn’t remember. Alhaitham sounded more angry than usual. What was it? Think brain, think!!
“Kaveh. I thought I told you to wash the d-”
Alhaitham rounded the corner, arms crossed, but stopped when he saw the small frame clinging onto the coat rack. Kaveh looked worse than when Alhaitham had picked him off the streets. The Kaveh he was looking at now was pale, hair and clothes soaked through and stuck to his skin. Had Kaveh always looked this frail? 
And for once, Alhaitham froze, not sure what to do. To reach out or to observe? Which would Kaveh want him to do, which would he be okay with him doing? His fists clenched in uncertainty. 
Maybe he should-
“What? D- Did you.. snff! say something..?” Kaveh struggled to raise his head, the ceiling lights looking brighter than ever that they shone straight into his skull. He just wanted to lie down, badly.
Alhaitham felt his insides tighten as Kaveh picked himself up. Suddenly, all thoughts about the dishes vanished from his mind. “It’s.. nothing..”
“O-oh.. alright, I’ll go s-shH! shower then..” Kaveh mumbled weakly. Talking hurt more than it should, and it took all his strength to stumble towards his room without falling all over the carpet.
Alhaitham watched as Kaveh’s shadow disppeared into the room. The door was swung shut but not closed, and he caught a glimpse of Kaveh gripping the side of his desk to balance himself. Drunk? Was he drunk? It wasn’t uncommon for Kaveh to come home like this, an absolute mess, clumsy on his feet.
“Hih’hAtchh!! hAH’ngXXt!! hH.. h’ snff!! hiT’Dchw!!
“hiH’tcHhuu!! snf! nh..”
But something was different, wasn’t it?
Alhaitham stared at the small crack in the door, at Kaveh, who removed a small cylinder from his pocket. He watches as Kaveh shakes it, removing two pills. Medicine? So Kaveh hasn’t been feeling well. But how long has it been? Days? Weeks? Why didn’t he say anything about it?
He remembers back when Kaveh just got off the streets, remembers when Kaveh came down with a fever on that same day, remembers how Kaveh had struggled for his life to swallow even the tiniest bit of the solid medicine that Alhaitham had to crush it down for him.
So Kaveh was feeling that bad that it pushed him to take not one but two? How had he not noticed? In his defense, Kaveh had been acting as usual for the past week. Their arguments flowed as usual, as did Kaveh’s irresponsibility with cleaning up after himself.
Lost in his thoughts, Alhaitham heard Kaveh panting softly. He imagined how Kaveh would be behind the door, a palm pressed against his throat, forcing himself to pretend that there was nothing but water in his mouth, just water, just swallow.
He heard Kaveh choke a little, and was overcome by the want to be by his side, rubbing between Kaveh’s shoulders to tell him that everything was going to be alright and that he was there. But Alhaitham couldn’t move, so he watched silently.
-
Kaveh’s eyes were watering. It was one thing to take the medicine, but it was another to take it quietly. After muffling a few coughs into his elbow, he shoved the bottle to the far end of his table, behind the stack of canvas, just in case.
He reached for a piece of tissue, holding it against his nose as he walked to the bathroom. He needed to bathe and sleep off this cold, for he was sure that Alhaitham would question him about last night in the morning. Kaveh liked moments like those, where his roommate would ask about him, making it seem like he cared.
Kaveh liked to pretend that he did.
“hiH’hAtchh!! hH-Hh.. ah’H.. ah..” he sighed, rubbing the tissue a little harder. “Hah’nnh.. snff- hH’! ugnn..” He needed to sneeze, the bathroom tiles felt cold to his feet, his clothes were suddenly too tight. He had to get them off, but they were wet and clung to him. 
His train of thought was messy; the water was warm on his back. Kaveh hunched over in the shower, arms pressed against the wall in front of him, helping him stand up straight.
He gasped, desperate.
“hiH’IHh- hHH!! Snnff.. hH’ hAH-zZchww!! hH’Tchh!! hhH-aH’dtcHhh!!” The mist from his nose mixed with the vapour from the water flowing down his back. He shivered; not hot enough. He switched it off.
Back in his room, Kaveh toweled himself down shakily. How long would it take for the medicine to kick in? How long has it been? Was it morning already? Has Alhaitham left for work? Was he once again all alone in this house? His nose was running again, Kaveh noticed but didn’t care. He pressed a sleeve of his pajamas against his face, tunneling under the blankets.
Still not warm enough..
-
The walls of his house were thin, Alhaitham knew, and he heard everything that came from Kaveh’s room despite moving to the kitchen. He had tried to busy himself with the dishes (the responsibility being entrusted now to him), but that didn’t stop the thoughts from creeping up on him.
Kaveh is sick. 
His hands stopped moving, fingers squeezing the soapy sponge. That idiot. Switching off the tap, Alhaitham moved to the other counter, prying open the drawers for ingredients to make soup. He doesn’t know if Kaveh had eaten already or not, he also doesn’t know if Kaveh would even accept it, but it put his mind at ease.
Two clicks from the stove later, the soup was starting to simmer. Alhaitham carefully placed the lid on top, allowing a small gap for the steam to rise. It would be done in a couple of hours. In the meantime, he would pack up the mess that Kaveh left the living room in.
He started with the clothes, the same white shirt that he wore everywhere. The collar line was far too low and exposing in Alhaitham’s opinion, but he wouldn’t say that he hates it, being able to see Kaveh’s chest. The only problem was that everyone else could as well. He picked it up, moving on to the red cape that lay draped over the couch. The first time he touched it, Alhaitham remembered being in shock at how soft it was despite its sturdy appearance. 
It’s iconic red color together with it’s pattern and broad tassels made the cape look so much more than just a item of clothing. Maybe that was why Kaveh was so proud to wear it; he loved to steal the spotlight, whether intentionally or not.
He folded them, and moved on to the floor.
“Haitham!! What do you think of these?” 
Alhaitham could almost hear Kaveh’s voice as he crouched down to pick up the blueprints. “It’s a rough sketch of what I think a school building should look like!” Alhaitham remembers what had sparked that project. The two of them were walking around the city when a couple of children ran into Kaveh. Kaveh laughed and brushed it off, before watching them disappear into the school.
Alhaitham remembers watching Kaveh’s eyebrows furrow when he took in the state of the budling, all the beautiful features on his face scrunching up in disapproval. “Really, they ought to take better care of a place like that.”
The moment Kaveh reached home that day, he whipped out his pencils and started working. And when he was done, he was proud. “Haitham! Doesn’t this look way better?”
And when Alhaitham had scoffed at his masterpiece,
“What do you mean ‘design doesn’t matter’? Maybe to you it doesn’t, but to those students, I think it will matter. When children are still young, they are so filled with curiosity, and that dull school building doesn’t boost that at all! Think about it Haitham, making sure that that creativity within each child doesn’t burn out, that’s what education should really be about.” 
Alhaitham remembers being at a loss for words, remembers looking into Kaveh’s eyes to see the sparks within them. Pride towards the future generation of students, the same pride Kaveh had when he finally graduated, only to become bankrupt in the following years after chasing his dream.
Don’t you ever learn when to back down? Alhaitham feels a smile creep onto his face. He supposes he isn’t much different.
The soup is finally done.
-
“Mmf..ah.. nnhH’! snnf- snff!! hhH..ihh!!”
Kaveh feels himself being pulled out of sleep. Everything felt heavy, too cold yet he was sweating. His head weighed a ton, and his nose.. his nose-
“Hih’tchh! heh’zchw!! eh-heH’tchzw!!”
“hh-! eh’tchw! huH’ hh..snf!..nghn”
..wouldn’t stop itching.
He lifted a palm to his forehead. It felt warm. Warm because of the fever, or warm because his fingers felt like icicles? He didn’t know. His stomach made a sound, and Kaveh feels the feeling of hunger for the first time that night. 
Using his other hand, Kaveh pushed against the mattress under him, but his body didn’t rise. He felt weak and shivery. Maybe the blanket was just too heavy.. But he had no trouble getting out of bed this morning, so what was happening now?
He was tired, and sleep was dragging him down once again. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he’d dream of Alhaitham. Alhaitham.. he’d be strong enough to lift Kaveh up from the bed, from under these heavy covers..
As if right on cue, Kaveh heard a sharp knock on his door. He wanted to respond, to call out, but everything hurt. A second passed, and the door swung open, the light from outside just barely any brighter than his own room. 
How considerate that the visitor gave a second thought to his eyes’ sensitivity to bright stuff..
“Kaveh-”
The visitor was calling for him. Respond.. Respond..
“Mmhyea..?”
“It’s me.. uh.. I made some... soup- ..food for you.”
“Haitham..?”
Kaveh started at the doorway. He recognised the voice but not the words spoken. Alhaitham made food for him? Right when he was just feeling hungry? Right when he was just thinking of dreaming about the man? Maybe he was..
“Yeah, it’s me.”
..Or maybe he wasn’t.
Alhaitham pushed himself further into the room. He felt weirdly hesitant. The Grand Scribe, doubting his steps, a new experience for him. ‘Everything with Kaveh is always a new experience’ was the excuse he gave himself.
“I’ll just.. put this-” 
“heH’tchh!! snff!” Kaveh swallowed quickly, blushing. The sneeze snuck up on him, and now Alhaitham was staring.
“The.. t-table.. snff- would be g- good..”
Alhaitham recovered from his startle in an instant, gently placing the tray onto the desk. Kaveh’s voice was soft, very much unlike him. Under the moonlight, he could see the reddish outline of Kaveh’s nose, and Alhaitham felt his heart tighten.
“Are.. are you okay?”
“I’m- hH..hit’chhw! haH’ngxxT!! F-Fine..snf- why..?” Kaveh scrubbed at his eyes, avoiding Alhaitham’s sight. 
“No reason.” Alhaitham felt the words leave his mouth before hie brain could process them. Running away. “I’ll come back later to.. get the bowl..”
When Kaveh watched Alhaitham turn to leave, he felt panic immobilising him. Wait. No, don’t go, please.. s-stay.. “I need.. need-”
“..Need?”
“shit.. Need you to help me lift the spoon.. I can’t..” Kaveh felt his blush returning, or maybe it was the fever. He had said that out loud?! ahh- what was Alhaitham going to think?
“Okay.”
Alhaitham quietly moved over to the bedside, pulling a chair over. He wordlessly but carefully pulled down the covers to Kaveh’s waist, flinching when Kaveh shivered immediately to the cold air, turning sharply to his side.
“hH!! H’haH’tCHhuu! s-sorryyhH’ tchHiww! snff-” Kaveh had his nose pressed firmly against his sleeve when he turned back, grateful that Alhaitham chose not to comment on it, instead helping to prop him up using some pillows.
Kaveh watched as Alhaitham reached for the steaming bowl, cupping it with his bare hands while the other stirred its contents.
“It’s not hot..?”
Alhaitham didn’t answer the question. Of course it was. But how else would he feed Kaveh? Feed Kaveh. It was Alhaitham’s turn to blush. Thankfully Kaveh had his attention elsewhere, sleeve pressed to his nose, rubbing softly. 
“hiH’tchhu!! ouwch.. snff.. hhH-”
“Here.” Alhaitham cleared his throat, holding out the spoon to Kaveh’s lips. From this distance, he can tell how puffy Kaveh’s eyes were, and how they were avoiding him. 
Kaveh is just as scared as he is.
“T-Thank you..” Kaveh mumbled, the stuffiness making it hard to talk. The soup was warm, not too hot, not too cold; “delicious.”
“Glad you like it.”
“I’m amazed you can cook. snff! It’s not poisonous, is it?”
“Unfortunately not.”
Kaveh smiled, a little, and Alhaitham did too. Despite the moment they were in right now, they always found a way to bite at each other’s throats. That’s how they were, everyone in Sumeru knew.
But what were they really, to each other?
The bowl was empty before another word was spoken, say for the regular sniffles (and sneezes) that Kaveh would take between each bite. It was all too soon, and Alhaitham was standing up, probably to leave.
Panic. 
Kaveh didn’t want to be alone, but he didn’t want just anybody’s company either. He wanted Alhaitham’s company. The house was too big and his room was too cold. And so he reached out. 
“Haitham-!”
Alhaitham turned around, tray and bowl clutched in his hands. Kaveh was calling him, Kaveh needed something from him. What was it..? What was it? If he could, he would give Kaveh the world.
“Yes?”
“P-Please stay?”
And there it was, the unspoken words that were finally said. Such a simple request. ‘Of course’ Alhaitham thought. ‘Of course I’ll stay.’
“I will. I will be back after I wash these, alright?”
“Always worried about the dishes aren’t you, Haitham?”
Yes, I am worried, worried, but not just about the dishes anymore.
-
Kaveh watched as Alhaitham padded slowly out of his room. The defined muscles of his back poking through the thin shirt, as beautiful as they were the first time Kaveh laid eyes on them. Strong arms that he hoped one day would hold him. One day, soon.
“I’m sorry for always being such a mess-”
(And that you always have to clean up after me.)
“It’s alright. It’s the way you are.”
(And it’s perfect, I love it.)
He hears the kitchen tap going off as sleep welcomes him once again. But this time, Kaveh doesn’t need to dream of Alhaitham. Because he might have just became a reality.
-
When Kaveh wakes up the next day, his fingers were cradled within Alhaitham’s sturdy palm, the man in question seated upon the bedside chair, head resting upon the blanket, against Kaveh’s thigh, their hearts beating as one.
(end)
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.
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tbh that felt more like a character rs fic then a snzfic but thats not rly for me to decide. 
i love these two so much and wna write for them abit more (when i stop being lazy)
ANYWAY ty for reading, and i hope you enjoyed that.
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polikszena · 1 year
Text
Title: Beginner friendly
Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick
Characters: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Maggie "Letdown" Miller(OC)
Relationships: Rooster x OC
Rating: General
Summary: One night at the club La Cubanita, Rooster spots an unexpected guest.
Notes: Okay, this is really random, because I wrote half of this on my way home from last week's dance party and finished it later. This is a small additional chapter to a Top Gun-fic of mine, For a little bit of sunshine.
Beginner friendly
"I've got you a drink. You looked like you'd need one," Rooster said when Maggie joined him at the bar. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips curled up and sweat was glowing on her collarbone. She was wearing a flowy blue top with a pair of skinny jeans and her dancing shoes.
"Thank you," she said, beaming at him.
"They're keeping you busy tonight," he stated.
"As expected," she said, "since I told my groups there would be more beginner friendly songs in this party. And beforehand I convinced Jackie to play more beginner friendly songs," she added, throwing a glance at the DJ. "At least they dare to ask me for a dance. Cheers," she raised her glass.
Rooster raised his own and they both drank while watching the couples on the dance floor until something made the aviator choke on his beer.
"Holy shit," he mumbled.
"What is it? A dreadful outfit?" Maggie wondered.
"Worse," he said, leaning forward to take a closer look. Perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him, and it was just a lookalike as he wasn't the only tall and well-built, dark-haired fifty-something in San Diego. But it was dedinitely him, dancing with a woman in a dress with printed roses on it. "Cyclone."
Surprisingly, Maggie's face lit up.
"Where?" she wondered, her eyes now searching for the vice admiral.
"Two o'clock, with the woman in a dress with roses," he told her.
"That's Mrs Cyclone," she said when she spotted them in the crowd.
Rooster nodded his head and they both started watching the older aviator. It felt so odd to see him like this: wearing his civilian clothes, in a club in San Diego, dancing salsa.
"He's a bit stiff, isn't he?" Rooster said as Cyclone led his wife back to the open position, concentrating to keep the beat. He could see his mouth moving as he was probably counting out loud: one, two, three, five, six seven.
"He's still a beginner" Maggie pointed out. "We've all been there."
"I know, but it's kind of nice to know that there is something I'm at a more advanced level than him," he admitted. "It's like finding out that your Math teacher roots for the same team as you and it makes you see him more like an actual human being."
"Or start doubting your sports choices," Maggie said.
"Or that."
About two songs later, Vice Admiral Beau "Cyclone" Simpson led his wife off the floor and when they spotted Maggie at the bar, they decided to join her. They didn't even seem to notice Rooster next to her. A grin broke out on the dance instructor's face, being genuinely happy to see them, but at the same time she felt a little awkward as in the class they were on a first name basis with everyone by default, while he was Rooster's superior.
"I'm so glad you could come!" she said, deciding not to say any names.
"Good evening, Sir," Rooster greeted him with a nod, and Maggie noticed that he had straightened his back a little more.
"Lieutenant," Cyclone turned to the aviator with a smile. "I didn't know you danced as well."
"For quite a few years now," Rooster said. "Although I havent' been doing it very often until recently," he added, throwing a glance at Maggie who smiled at him.
"Well, let me introduce you to my wife, Barbara," the vice admiral said. "Honey, this is Lieutenant Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, one of the aviators who succeeded in our latest mission."
"I've heard a lot about you," Mrs Cyclone smiled at the young man. "It's nice to finally meet you."
"Actually, I came to ask Maggie for a dance," Cyclone said. "I hope I wasn't interrupting anything."
"Not at all," Maggie said.
"In that case, may I have this dance?" the aviator asked, and when she said yes, he led her to the dance floor.
As much as he wanted to see Cyclone with Maggie, Rooster found it awkward to stay alone at the bar with the vice admiral's wife, so instead, he turned to her:
"May I, Mrs Simpson?" he asked, holding out his hand to her.
"Yes," the woman said, " and please, call me Barbara," she added as they walked to the dance floor.
Beau "Cyclone" Simpson was visibly nervous as they started to dance which surprised Maggie a little, knowing how confident the aviator was at his job, on the other hand, she knew how nerve-wracking it was for a beginner to ask the teacher for a dance. When they would have to lead steps to someone way more experienced than him and there would not be anyone to tell them what the next step would be. She tried to be at ease with him, pretending she hadn’t noticed his mistakes and just enjoying the dance, hoping that it would make him feel more relaxed. However, after he led her a perfect coca cola turn (something they learned in their last class), a wide grin broke out on Maggie’s face - she couldn’t help it. Seeing her changed expression, the aviator startled a little.
“Sorry if I messed it up,” he said.
“No, you didn’t,” Maggie assured him. “It was actually great. That’s why I was smiling.”
Poor man, she thought to herself, this must have been extremely hard for him. Not only dancing with his teacher as a beginner but having his subordinate witnessing all of it. It must have been excruciating for him. Still, he asked for a detailed review of his performance once the song ended. He came here to practice after all.
“Lieutenant Bradshaw is an amazing dancer,” Barbara Simpson told her husband when he and Maggie joined them at the bar. She was glowing, with an ear-to-ear smile on her face, just like any woman after a good dance.
“It seems you’re a man of many talents,” the vice admiral stated.
“And even more practice, Sir,” Rooster said. “Would you like to see it?”
Cyclone raised a brow at the question, but then he smiled and nodded his head.
“Sure.”
Then the mustached aviator turned to Maggie and asked her for a dance. He couldn’t hide his smug smile as he led her back to the floor, ready to show his superior how to dance salsa.
“For a moment I thought you’d ask him to dance,” Maggie admitted as they returned to the floor.
“I think he did, too,” Rooster said with a chuckle.
“Just don’t intimidate him too much,” she told him when they stood into position.
“Maybe a little bit,” Rooster said and began to lead.
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shxma02 · 2 years
Text
A PROMISE IS TO KEEP - Jeon Jungkook X Reader
- Angst, Fluff, Sm R18+ TW: Infidelity
2.8K WORD COUNT
Monologue:
“I can’t believe we’re having this talk again.” Another night we spent sitting in his car, hours pass on by and the only thing bing discussed was going back around and around in circles. The glow of the sun rays peaked up past the building tops, knowing that I will regret this moment in a couple hours during my shift at the bar. Perhaps the bustling atmosphere and the alcohol after hours can help clear my mind.. but right now, the only thing I need to focus on was the raven haired boy sitting in the seat next to mine. We’ve been sitting outside of my apartment since one in the morning, though the endless silence and meaningless conversations have transported us to another five hours into the future.
“Look, i’m sorry. I don’t know what to do- I don’t know what to say or who to choose.” From my peripheral vision I see his silhouette turn towards me, his hands grabbed and held onto mine. His eyes begging me to look into his. “Don’t you feel bad or at least a little guilty at all?”
“Jungkook- Of course I feel guilty. There hasn’t been a day where I havent felt sorry towards Taehyung, but I can’t help feeling to way about you- I, you made me choose between the two of you and I made my choice. The fact that we even have to sit here for you to decide and see whether you want me or her-”
As I spoke, the emotions inside of me bubbled with anger and frustration before letting out a deep sigh. Back to the beginning of the year.. before meeting him I was happy, before meeting him I never had to cry to sleep in fear of getting abandoned. He let go of another deep groan before letting my fingers slip from his and slumping back on his car seat; I studied his face in silence. I know it was wrong. I know I was so, so wrong for messing with something that I shouldn’t even mean to touch. “Irene and I have been together for three years- I can’t throw everything away just like that.”
“I understand that Jungkook but for the past couple of months, you need to understand that I did everything for you, I did everything you asked me to, I did everything to be with you! And the fact that you can’t do the same for me, it shows how much you really did care about me..”
He opened his mouth to talk, to make another excuse, but I opened the door and got out before I could hear him utter another word. Slamming the door shut, I walked towards my apartment; tears falling down my face as my body shuddered from holding in my sobs. I could hear his engine revving off as I unlocked the door. I turned my head and see his car speeding off into the distance..maybe this is the last time I will ever see him..my heart aches as my mind filled with thought of him.
Maybe this is the karma coming back to bite me in the ass for lying, cheating and intervening my way into another relationship. I let out a laugh before shutting the door and locking it with a click. Ever since knowing Jeon Jungkook, I became the person I swore to never become. I know I don’t deserve to be happy but I can’t help but want to be selfish…
Chapter 1 –
“Hoshi, I need you to take the 3 margaritas out to table 6 for me and Jun, take the old fashioned to table 21 outside
“Yes boss!” The two boys shouted with gusto before taking the trays of drinks right out the door. I let a little laugh before turning my attention back towards the dockets in front of me. It was a Friday night, so the bar was as packed as usual. The loud shaking of the ice against the metal shaker and the dinging of the bell continued to ring endlessly throughout the night; my mind went blank as my arms took action to complete every order that came through. Two other bartenders called in sick tonight, so tonight was all on me, I swear to god if I’m not getting tipped a shit ton tonight, i’m going to walk out the door tomorrow morning. “Hey,” a dark voice interrupted my thoughts; I looked up at the man standing in front of me. “Babe!” My smile grew as Taehyung gave me a sweet smile in return. “I was gonna order a drink but I think you’re a bit busy at the moment Miss Bartender,” he laughed. “Funny,” I gave him a smirk in return before proceeding to slap the next drink onto the counter. “I can’t believe you’re here! You normally don’t come visit me you know.” Taehyung closed his eyes and gave a dramatic sigh, “yeah but I can’t help but miss my baby girl a bit more than usual tonight.” I turned my head to the side and squinted at the clock above the kitchen, “babe i’m sorry but I don’t finish until a couple hours later.”
He shook his head before placing his hand on my head, giving it a few gentle pats. “It’s okay babe, seeing you for a bit right now is enough for me. I’ll make you some dinner so i’ll see you at home okay? Don’t take too long. I love you.” Our eyes stayed locked before he leaned in and gave me a small peck. “I love you too.” The disappointed feeling inside me started to grow as I watch him leave, waving everyone goodbye as he did.
Taehyung and I started dating around a year ago. Never in a million years did I think I would date a man who I honestly could say I cherish more than anything or anyone I could think of. Taehyung has always been a man of tradition, which we’ve discussed thoroughly at the beginning of our relationship due to some conflicts due to his traditional background. When we walk together on the streets I notice the stares people give us.. He is always dressing his best, with his suits or business casual fits- I mean, which makes sense since he works in corporate (Unless we were at home together of course.) Though for me, I have a few tattoos and piercings here and there but that alone gives people to judge the difference between us- especially a few people from his family as it is something that is clearly far away from the usual “traditional’ trope that he was use to.
We first met through a mutual friend at a get together, where he sat in a corner by himself drowning in his thoughts, hand holding a glass of Cabernet. I remembered making my way over and initiated a conversation that started what is now ‘us.’ Thinking of my boyfriend made a small smile creep onto the corner of my lip, but that quickly went away as I focused my attention back onto the orders that came through.
The night went on bustling away and soon I found myself closing the bar and putting the alcohol away. Who the fuck drinks this many shots of vodka 20 minutes before we close? I swear we need to up the alcohol prices in the store, at this rate we’re barely making a buck to cover everything. I looked at the trays and trays of glasses that needed to be polished for tomorrow, my head was thumping but there was nothing I could do except picking up a cloth and going to work on the first glass. Majority of the lights in the bar were shut and the main light source shone onto the bar and onto me. It was a little eerie being the only one in the bar, the unusual blobs slowly shape shifted in the darkness but I threw my attention back onto the smudges on the glasses before I could creep myself out even more.
*knock knock knock*
My thumb tightly gripped onto the glass and my heart stopped from the knocks on the locked door.. it was 1:30am in the morning, we’ve been closed for a while now and the only people here in the bar was me and my manager who was in the back room, who would be knocking at this hour? I slowly placed the glass down onto the counter before walking towards the door cautiously. A dark silhouette stood tall outside, my hand clenched the handle tightly before opening it,
“Hey sorry, we’re closed.”
I spoke in a firm tone but looking at the man up and down to make sure he didn’t have a weapon on him to mutilate the first person he saw, it didn’t help that half his face was covered by a mask and his frame was concealed with black baggy clothing. “Hey, sorry I’m actually here to see Namjoon hyung.” Namjoon? “You’re expecting to see our manager after hours?” My body still stood behind the door with my head popped out to the side to talk to the stranger. “Uhhh yes..?” He responded. “If you’re so sure, why do you sound like you’re questioning yourself? He let out a chuckle at my comment. “Look I really am. I’m meeting him for a drink tonight and it’s freeezinggg outside so may I come in? I swear I don’t plan on killing anyone tonight.”
He leaned his frame onto the door and I hesitantly I moved to the side and let the unknown man come through. As he took a step inside, he took off his bucket and shook his head, drops of rain splattered everywhere. I took a step back and covered my face. “Hey, hey, I know that you’re wet from the rain but not everyone wants to smell like a wet dog okay?”
“Huh??? What? You wanna smell like a wet dog too? My pleasure!” He straightened up and ran towards me with his arms spread. Laughter filled the room as I immediately ran to the bar and grabbed a soda gun and pointed it at him. “Another step, you can smell like a dog and be sticky I dare you.” “Alright, alright miss feisty pants, i’ll stop.”
The bright smile stayed plastered on his face as he walked towards the bar countertop. He placed his arms onto the bench in a cross and looked around at the spirit stock before his gaze made his way back to me. “Nice collection you got here.” “Thanks, I love spending hours and hours restocking the shelves on my days off.” He gave an amused huff at the sarcasm before reaching his arm out for a shake. “My name’s Jungkook.” I placed the gun back into the socket before reciprocating his gesture, “(y/n).” “So (y/n), do you always threaten people you just met with soda? Or is this a special promotion going on at the moment?”
“Hmmm, nah only to people who look like they’ll murder me” I said before letting go of his hand. I turned my back around and grabbed the shaker, “So Jungkook. You want anything to drink while you wait? I think Namjoon is still doing some paper work in the back, there was a biggg fight today so I think he’ll be a while.” “That’s alright, I already sent him a message but yes, I’ll take you up on that offer. Give me a sweet drink.”
“Sweet?” I raised my eyebrow and I turned to question him. It’s not that I judge people based on how they look when they get a drink but there has been plenty of instances where men order the strongest, most disgusting drink to prove their “manliness.” He raised his arms up defensively, “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a young man getting a drink he actually enjoys.” I rolled my eyes in amusement before grabbing the Midori and such. As I was throwing in liquor into the shaker, Jungkook’s voice echoed through the empty room. “So, how long have you been working here for?” As he looked around the establishment.
“Ummm around 2 years now? Namjoon offered me the job when he came to my last workplace. Seems like he really enjoyed my drinks, but honestly that place was hell to work for anyways, so why not move to a place I actually like and is treated with respect?” “Fair enough, your old work place must be real shitty,” he responded. “I mean it’s not that different here to be honest, but when you work at a bar you still get the creeps and drunks but at least here, there’s actual security doing their job.”
I placed the chilled martini glass in front of him before I poured the green drink into the glass and topping it off with a cherry. “And here is a Japanese Slipper for you Mr sweet drinks.” He gave me a smile before taking a sip; his eyes lit up and a grin appeared on his face, “not bad, not bad.” “Got any plans tonight? You should stay and drink with us,” he asked as he looked up at me whilst tilting the glass to his lips. “Ah, no i can’t. I have to go home, my boyfriend’s waiting for me.” He nodded as he kept sipping on the drink like water. “That’s cute, how long have you guys been together?” “Around a year now I think- how about you? Anyone?”
“Yeah I do, her name’s Irene. We’ve been together for about three years now but half of it was long distance; but i’m seeing her again tomorrow night.” Of course he has a girlfriend, he’s a nice guy. Honestly I don’t usually get along with this many people this early on. The only people who I could talk to like this is Namjoon and Jimin, maybe that’s why they’re all close friends. Even over the past couple years I’ve always felt uncomfortable talking to people this closely; ironic isn’t it? Working as a bartender in one of the most popular bars in Seoul and I don’t actually really like people.
“yeah I can imagine, I can’t see myself do long distance for so long.” He gave me a bitter sweet smile before putting his phone away and looking back at me. “Hey, why am I the only one drinking. You should have one too.” “Ummm, I don’t think that’s a good idea-“ He cut me off wit his loud tone, “Come on! Just one, you’re not staying with us tonight anyways. I don’t know when I’ll see you again.” Jungkook gave a small puppy dog pout before I laughed and gave in. “Any recommendations? Actually- do you wanna make it for me?” His eyes lit up, however a mixture of excitment and concern filled them. “Are you sure?” I gave him a small nod with my arms crossed. “Yeah feel free, anything in the bar.”
And with that, he hopped over to my side of the counter before looking at all the drinks available without another thought. Actually paying attention to his physic as he stood next to me made me realise how much he actually loomed over me, he’s gotta be at least around 180cm ish? Give or take. He grabbed the shaker and pour in a few bottle he picked out. My smile started to disappear as I see him add in the liquors one by one. Khalua..Vodka.. okayyy, not bad, olive juice..? Passionfruit purree- Tabasco??! “Hey, are you making me a drink or are you trying to kill me?!” Jungkook let out a cheeky laugh as he lifted the tabasco bottle into the air and out of my reach and I tried to snatch it out of his hands. “Hey, you said I could make a drink with anything in the bar!” “Yeah, but I didn’t expect you to make me a Bloody Mary mixed with pony piss-“ “It’ll taste good! I promise, go have a seat and I will bring you your special order.”
My face sat in a frown as he poured the drink into my glass, it was somehow brown and purple and green?? It was all murking together and I swear I could see faces appearing out of it like the souls in the Styx river. “Voila, have a sip.” “Now do I really have to?” His eyebrows furrowed and pouted once again, “Hey, how can you not? It’s only right since I worked so hard to make it for you” He turned away and crossed his arms In a sulk. I sent him a glare before picking up the glass, my hands trembled as I brought it to my lips and let the toxic cocktail hit my tongue.
The second it hit my tongue I felt nauseous, it was strong, bitter, spicy and sweet- I- “No offence, this taste like something I can find in the bottom of the sink.” He held his hands over his heart in exaggeration and let out a groan, “ah, you really know how to hurt someone deeply don’t you?” My eyebrows furrowed before grabbing the glass and held it up into the air to force feed him the poison, “You try it then!!” We pushed the glass back and forth before we heard a deep voice behind us. “I hope i’m not interrupting anything.” We both whipped our heads around to see a tired looking Namjoon leaning against the pillar with his arms crossed, sleeves pushed past up his elbows.
“Hyung!” Jungkook screamed before running over and giving him a hug. “Hey Jungkook, how have you been?” Namjoon greeted the younger man back whilst patting his back. The two of them exchanged a few more words before bringing their attention back to me. “I would introduce you guys but I see the two of you have already met.” Jungkook smiled before placing am arm around my shoulder. “Yeah, we became best friends while waiting for you to finish work.” “Since when did i become your best friend???” Namjoon chuckled. “You’re very lucky you know, a lot of people come to this place for her drinks.” “Well I am honoured,” Jungkook said making us all chuckle. “(Y/n) you should come join us, it’ll be fun.” “I-“ before I could reply, Jungkook chimed in and cut me off. “I already invited her before but have been rejected, sadly.” I jabbed his rib before smiling back at Namjoon, “yeah, I have to get back to Taehyung; he’s waiting for me to finish off, so since you’re here now, I might have to head off now.” My manager nodded before giving me a hug goodbye. “Tell Taehyung I said hi and don’t worry about the glasses, Jimin can do it tomorrow. “”Ahahaha, since you’re insisting. I’ll see you guys another time,” I laughed. I gave each of them a hug before walking off towards my stuff. As i opened the door, I glanced towards them one last time. Jungkook gave me a small smile before he I stepped out of the store and left.
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Hi bestiesss ive been dreamin
Um last night, im so pissed.....I'm not pissed, it just actually amazes me how my subconscious can trick me so often!
I was back on the boat. On a cruise, same vibes as normal. Having a rather great time. Even being in groups and taking elevators, like the catch me dream. I remember being with fam or friends or whoever and walking to the elevator and i pressed "up" and some business man and businesswoman. Man in a deep tan almost brown suit, the women was blonde and had a red blazer and skirt WHATEVER
But yea they came behind us and was like "haha we're going up too!" giggly stranger pleasantries. The elevator came so fast and opened and then the one next to it also came and opened back to back. And we were all like "wow" and deciding which one to go on, we could probably split between parties now but would that be awkward? so yea then like i swear more elevators were there and opening and one was going down. Very catch me
But another point of the dream, it was lonnnngggg. The cruise was a week and i felt like i was in the dream for every second of it. It was the last day, or second to last day, and i was in the elevator alone, heading somewhere and im just standing there finally alone and with my thoughts like "this whole time i haven't been to the top deck?? like i havent seen the water"
And then IN THE DREAM i was like "oh my god, ha ha spirit this is just like all my dreams. he he i get it?? Wow this is literally like my dreams, i can't believe i would find myself in this situation in real life, like are you kidding thats so ironic. Hmmm, i guess i should do it then right? like fuck it lets go up to the top deck im already in the elevator"
and i was hesitant bc in catch me, things didnt go as planned lol. SO i was like maybe i should go find erikka or someone to bring with me, just to solidify that....idk this is tangible, like im living real life, and if something weird or bad happens i'll be with someone
But then i was like thats literally so stupid, this IS real life. Im independent, its so fucking easy, im a goddamn cruise and havent even seen the open ocean yet what the fuck am i waiting for.
And not a SINGLE part of me, thought that i could be dreaming at that moment. Thats so, so, so insane to me because this is like the 4th or 5th time this has happened. Where im specifically in the elevator or somewhere on the cruise in my dreams and i realize i need to see the water and i go "so funny spirit this is like my dreams ur teasing" AND I NEVER KNOW IM DREAMING
Which is starting to get me nervous im not gonna like, like am i dreaming or am i just living a second life in the astral realm that i resume every time in sleep
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kjdemon · 6 years
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catholicdaredevil · 2 years
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pardon me just gonna drop some crumbs into the daredevil fandom then vanish forever
so i havent edited or gone back over this AND i wrote it on my sleeping meds but such is life
Touch starved would be the absolute bare minimum way to describe Matt Murdock. There didn’t seem to be a word or term that fully encapsulated the way he longed for even the smallest of touches. Not that he would admit it, no the trademark Catholic guilt wouldn’t allow him to ever confess to something like desire. The way that guilt was stitched into every fiber of his being, kept him together at the seams. That same way the hunger for connection was wired into his bones, sunk down in a place no one could get to, not even him. It ached- He ached in a way far worse than any injury had ever hurt; because those healed. They got better with time, with meditation, sometimes even medicine though he’d never admit to that either. Even when he tried it never healed as much as he hoped, or needed. Stick. Elektra. Even Foggy, they couldn’t fix him, couldn’t heal the devil. So he pushed everyone away, coming to terms with the fact that maybe he didn’t deserve to feel the warmth he so desired. Maybe the cost of the devil, of his abilities, was that no matter how much he helped, he would always be on the outside looking in on what he loved. The city, the people, the people.
It always made him freeze, touch, no matter where it came from. He always expected the worst and maybe that was the Devil’s fault, expected it to hurt, knew he deserved it. He’s sure it never showed, the slight tightening around his eyes when Foggy reached out to clap his shoulder over a solved case, when Karen leaned into his side grinning when the story finally cracked open under her touch, even the way Claire would mournfully brush her fingers around wounds she had sown up. He didn’t let himself enjoy, but couldn’t stop the way his body reacted, canting towards everything, anything. He couldn’t avoid it either, not with Foggy as his best friend, Foggy a man well renowned for being the kindest shining light of a person. Foggy loved in many ways, each one louder than the last, constantly giving pieces of himself left and right without thought or hesitation. Sometimes Matt would just sit back and observe, in awe of the way Foggy moved through life with such ease. Someone who loved so deeply without fear of what it could do to him, someone who didn’t have to worry that the pieces of himself were jagged, sharp, dangerous. Wrong.
The craving for touch that wormed its way under his skin couldn’t be trained out of him and he tried, like a dog with a shock collar. Tried to carve it out of his body, when that didn’t work he prayed. Begged, pleaded, please god and every time they sat in the air unanswered. So he fed the desire in the night, in the crunching of bone under his fists, in the throb of bruises that would be dark for days. The fight satiating as much of the urge as was possible. When his mind tried to remind him it wasn’t enough he pushed. Pushed his body farther, running himself ragged along Hell’s Kitchen, hit harder, leaving himself open at times to be hit harder back to feel something. Yet the devil was never satisfied, even when he quieted down there was still the thrum in the back of Matt’s head, the thirst for action, only ever chained up.
There was no reason you should have been different. No reason he let you and no one else behind lines of defense he didn’t even consciously know were there. No reason your touch should leave him so breathless he was almost light headed at times. The smallest things, when you’d hand him his tea always remembering to put three drops of honey in and no more and your fingers would brush in the hand off and he’d feel it down into his arms. Your touch like molten lava under the surface of the earth, moving and changing his world unseen to anyone on the outside. Sometimes he even thought you knew, like you could sense the skip of his heart or the hitch in his breath, like somehow you could read him back. As time went on even when he came to terms with the fact that your touch came freely, frequently, even adoringly he often felt on edge. Like it would all be pulled out from under him, some sick joke to finally have everything change in his favor just to lose it.
In your defense you did know how special touch was to him, it wasn’t that hard to figure out. No matter how much Matt or the Devil thought they were tough, hard to read, he just had no idea. His face so expressive you could read paragraphs off the arch of his brow, the tilt of his mouth. That and the way he nuzzled into any touch you offered him, purring like a cat and making little soft happy noises at the rush of oxytocin. He must not have realized he did any of those either given the way he always seemed surprised by your touch, like every time it was a gift.
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