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7wanderingpaws · 3 years

Text

Captain Bucheon 03

Warnings: strong language

Word count: 5.9K

story masterlist masterlist

tags: @wooya1224 @to-all-the-stories-i-love @jennxx3 @realllllrica

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Third: Saving is Caring

“Lee Nari!”

Someone was shouting your name but you couldn't tell who exactly because the entire corridor you were residing on - the forsaken fifth floor, also the top floor of the building without an elevator - was flooded with girls. They were rushing to the opposite direction you were heading to, and you frowned deeply at anyone who made even the slightest brush against you - or your chest.

“Come to room number 501!” they shouted again.

“As if,” you scoffed to yourself and dodged one hand that was about to land on your breast.

“Aish, I was gonna try if they were actually real,” you heard the girl whine but her voice got quickly blocked out by exciting squeals.

Finally managing to land in your room, you basically kicked the door open, pissed, to find Yuyeon preparing in front of her make-up mirror. Her eyes were shining and she seemed way too happy.

“What the hell is happening out there?” you grumbled, slamming the door shut with your foot to isolate yourself from the annoying squeals. “It looks like a sect or something.” You dropped your bag in the corner and threw yourself on the bed, needing the relief in your tired muscles.

Running had been taking its toll on you the past weeks, let alone your job was tiring mentally, as well. There hadn't been any slip-ups or issues anymore like last time for which you were eternally thankful. That one time - yeah, you weren't sure you could deal with that again.

“You are coming toooo!” squealed Yuyeon as well and was fast to drop the blusher on her messy table before standing and jumping over to your bed, making you fly up on the mattress too.

You whined again and tried to kick her off your bed but she climbed over you and wiggled her eyebrows at you, a cheeky glint leaving an unease in your tummy.

“We-” she leaned into your ear, “are going to watch porn.”

You gasped and pushed her off of you, pink rising up to your cheeks. “What? Are you nuts? Why would you watch-”

“C'mon, Nari,” giggled Yuyeon, sitting up properly to let you sit up as well. Her shirt slid off her shoulder and her bra strap was showing which made you reach up to bring the shirt back to its original place. “I know you've already experienced it all but-”

This time, a horrified gasp left your mouth and you were fast to shut her up with a: “I haven't experienced those things at all!”

She frowned, pouting. “But you made out with Baekhyun and you said he touched you-”

Your head was starting to spin as you shook it so violently. “No, no, no, don't bring that up. He stopped when he found out I'm a virgin and it doesn't even matter!!”

“But Nari, he is a grown up male that knows eeeeeverything there is to know about, you know, sex, and he was hot and -”

“Yuyeon, please,” you begged, hiding your face behind your palms. You felt attacked at the memories of you and Baekhyun being all touchy. “It isn't that exciting,” you tried but you knew it was a terrible, terrible lie.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “You don't have to come if you don't want to but it will be fun with all the girls. We can talk about boys and men and, I dunno, just enjoy.”

You pursed your lips, not so sure. A good rest was what you needed, NOT temptation. Let alone, you wouldn't be able to get Baekhyun out of your mind were you to watch stuff like that. When you were about to speak up, Yuyeon added:

“You know, ever since stuff happened, we didn't really go out like that anymore… I kind of miss fooling around with you and just going against the rules - although now we can't do it since we are old enough to be naughty, but despite that I just miss doing cheeky stuff with my bestie.”

It was heart-warming to see Yuyeon be honest with you. Even the fact that she mentioned Baekhyun was a step forward for neither of you mentioned him unless necessary. Yuyeon was tiptoeing around you for one year in order to give you time to get over the mess that the mentioned male did to you and then she grew accustomed to your indifference towards your surroundings. You didn't talk about it and she didn't want to pry too much, always listening to bits of your thoughts here and there.

Yuyeon didn't feel guilty for mentioning Baekhyun's name; if anything, she hoped that you got over it and wouldn't react to him too much. For her, of course, Baekhyun was still on the “hated people” side like Chul. But he was also your ex and you were talking about girl stuff. Exciting stuff. Mature stuff. Baekhyun's name had to be mentioned for he was the whole package in the past.

“I know, and I'm sorry about that,” you murmured, averting your gaze. Her knees were bent, her skin showing as her shorts had ridden up. “We should start getting back on the track, right?”

The corners of Yuyeon's lip lifted in a small, encouraging smile. “Yes. So how about starting with the porn?”

You laughed out loud, smacking her thigh loudly, making her wince. “Okay, okay, just because it's you!”

“No, it's 'cause you are super curious as well!” she said, sticking her tongue out at you. “How it's all done and stuff.” She was growing red in her face, but her blush looked pretty and made her even more youthful. It made you grin wider and you shook your head at her and also stuck your tongue out, playing the silly one.

“You talk too much! Go finish your make-up, you're friggin ugly,” you rolled your eyes in mock and climbed off your bed, ready to change into more comfortable clothes.

When her slap landed on your butt, you abruptly turned around, glaring at her but both of you eventually giggled. Yes, this will be the best way to get your mind off stuff and hopefully have a good girls' night.

The room 501 was crammed with girls and pink and magazines and make-up and perfumes and smartphones with instagrams open. They were all chatting excitedly while one of the girls, you presumed the person living in this room, was behind her laptop, searching the websites that already screamed porn.

Both you and Yuyeon plopped down on the bed, shimmying yourselves between two girls who immediately took you in, wanting to socialize. That part was a little painful on your side as you weren't looking for new friends; especially not the ones who kept commenting on your chest and choice of clothing.

“Isn't it hard to run for you?”

“Don't people stare a lot?”

“Has anyone touched without asking?”

“How do you buy your bras? Korea is full of A cups and B cups are already considered huge anyway!”

You sighed and ensured the very concerned girl that you were able to get the cup of your size just fine - though, only in a few shops that were designed for ladies that were more blessed. You definitely couldn't just walk into any shop of your liking.

“Okay, girls, it's about to start!” shouted one and smashed the space on her keyboard, starting the forsaken video.

Everyone went silent right away, almost waiting with bated breaths for what was about to go down.

With a small frown, you were focusing on the small story they were trying to fool you with, immediately presenting a beautiful woman with blue eyes, of course. The man, though, wasn't a catch at all - not for you, at least. Some girls' eyes sparkled at the sight of the main male character and the way he was tanned and incredibly muscly.

“He looks like he could crash her bones,” whispered eagerly Yuyeon into your ear while not tearing her eyes away from the screen.

You hummed; the more it went on the more distrubed you started to feel. It was all incredibly bizarre and their love story was faced paced.

Founding yourself zoning out and blocking out the scenes that quickly grew heated and, well, disturbing to you, you spotted a calendar of models on the desk. It wasn't too far and you grabbed it quickly, not wanting to be in the line of vision of other girls who were literally drooling while hiding their faces behind their hands at the rated scenes.

Taking the calendar, you listed through what seemed like an endless amount of sexy pictures of firefighters in Bucheon. Just as expected, they were either shirtless or pants-less or both. Thank God they had underwear. You didn’t deny it; they were so handsome it almost seemed questionable. What were they like in real life? Were they really as passionate about their work as it said on the calendar? And, more importantly, were they really as handsome as the pictures were portraying them to be?

You kept listing through the pages, sometimes stopping to read. When you spotted a familiar face though, you almost fainted. On it, the month of May, was none other than Baekhyun. A black leather jacket was on him, underneath he was shirtless with his dark blue ripped jeans low on his hips, red supreme underwear poking out to tease the eager eye. The way they were hugging his thighs had a strong effect on you. As he had his thumb (the one with the mole on it) causally hooked in the belt loop hole, it brought your attention to the thin, and what looked like very veiny, skin that disappeared in the underwear. He had lean muscle that wouldn’t intimidate a girl. In fact, it would affect her heavily. You noticed a few more moles on his abdomen, the ripped muscles making the skin on it exceptionally tight. Saliva collected in your mouth and you quickly swallowed, averting your gaze to the upper part of his face. His hair was styled like a rock star’s with a comma hanging over his forehead, his dark eyes glaring at the camera, charcoal black eyeliner making them seem deadly. His lips were parted ever so slightly, scarcely revealing his front teeth, and your gaze hooked on them just a little while longer than they should have. You remembered the moments he would bite them. When he would lick them. When he would smile with them; or kiss you with them. He looked stunningly hot and dangerous. You couldn’t believe you once had this man to yourself.

You had heart palpitations.

Slapping Yuyeon’s arm, you tried to get her attention. You needed to vent, otherwise you’d suffocate. Yuyeon was too preoccupied with the disturbing video playing which was why the girl sitting on your other side spoke up excitedly into your ear:

“Oh my god, that’s the captain of the police, Byun Baekhyun! My oldest brother went to the same school with him.” She stared at the picture. “He is so fucking hot.” She was basically salivating over the picture. With her words, you felt something move within you. What it was you weren’t sure, but you didn’t like it. It made your chest tighten up and your mood dampen. “There are many hot guys in that calendar but Baekhyun has his own charm. I’d go for him any minute.”

Not sparing any more time with the picture, you harshly turned over the page, revealing a mediocre looking police officer. He was very handsome, thanks to plastic surgery, but after seeing Baekhyun, all the males seemed dull and boring. Despite your wild thoughts, you muttered: “He’s okay, I guess.”

She nudged you with her elbow. “C‘mon, I can see the redness in your cheeks,” she giggled and just in that moment there was a loud moan coming from the laptop. You felt yourself burning up even more and you squirmed on the bed, warmth pooling in your belly. These feelings were so foreign to you.

“You’re friends with Oh Sehun, right?” She was adamant about talking to you. So you nodded in response. “Well, he is good friends with Baekhyun. Yeonhee, the one who lives in this room, got the calendar from him. She likes Sehun but I feel like she has secondary intentions. If she could get Baekhyun she would not hesitate to go after him,” she giggled into your ear just when another moan resembled the room.

You sighed. “Sehun is a good guy, you know?” you muttered to her and looked at her huge eyes, the way they seemed dilated. “I hope you can tell her not to toy with him.” You looked back down, now a doctor on the cover. A doctor?! “Or else she will deal with me and that won’t be nice.”

The girl went silent. Maybe you came off as rude but you didn’t have many friends; nor were you looking for more. So if someone played with someone that belonged to you, they could rest assured you wouldn’t let it slip. “Do you perhaps know Baekhyun?”

And there it went again. Silently, you cursed your luck. This man seemed to be everywhere you went and mentioned by anyone you talked to recently. You never realized just what power Baekhyun had over this city. Realizing you probably took more time to answer, you quickly shrugged your shoulders. “Just a little bit. He is quite older than us so I doubt he has interest in us, kids.” It hurt to say, but you knew it was the closest to the truth. Baekhyun made the age difference between him and you crystal clear and even used it as a barrier between the two of you. Even though he wanted you, it was a crucial reason for him to stop moving forward with you. Or more like, he wanted to take things slow. You scoffed out loud.

“Well, I guess he just hasn't met the right one. The young ones are always better than the older ones. The older guys are just too afraid to admit it,” she told you and leaned further away, most probably wanting to end the conversation. She must have noticed your defensive, indifferent position and figured she wouldn't get a juicy talk with you.

That was fine by you. Because right now your head was so full of him; you couldn’t produce a single comprehensive sentence without giving yourself away. You so wished to meet him again and talk to him. You so wished things would have gone differently between the two of you.

There were now harsh pantings in the background and you groaned inwardly. You slapped Yuyeon’s thigh to finally get her attention. At the impact, she jumped up and glared at you. “I’m leaving,” you mouthed, not wanting to wait for her reply, but she stopped you abruptly.

“Are you okay?” she whispered in your ear, but the disturbing noises were blocking out each of her words.

You only managed to nod quickly before scooting off the bed and, while ignoring the curious stares of the other girls, you quickly made your way out, desperately searching for fresh air that would hopefully help you clear your foggy mind.

Once out in the corridor, you inhaled deeply, trying to shake off the feelings in your body. How could you become so easily affected by a simple picture? It was the stupid background noise, added your brain and you rolled your eyes. You needed to let out your frustration and even though it was hard to believe, you decided you would make good use of it.

You would go running. For the first time. By yourself.

When you reached the running track, the main headlights of the field were already turned off, throwing the space into a darkness lit up by surrounding street lamps. That was good enough, as you seeked some kind of hiding. Deciding to pour your frustrations into your challenge in jogging, you padded over to the running field, feeling the ground softer under your running shoes. There was a group of boys wrapping up a football game while a lone man, a student, was making laps, unbothered by the minimal lighting.Without paying anymore attention to your surroundings, you slowly increased your walking into a light jog, not wanting to strain yourself too much.

Your hair was flowing behind you in a high ponytail while the remnants of winter were biting into your skin, making your cheeks and nose red. You tried to focus on your breathing, wanting to make sure you wouldn't mess it up and therefore increase your stamina but it was fruitless as your mind immediately wandered off to the picture of Baekhyun in that calendar. It effectively quickened your heartbeat and you grew warm all over your body.

After two laps though, you became quickly tired and out of breath, your lungs on fire. There was an uncomfortable, sharp feeling in your side, the pain dull but making moving difficult nonetheless. The man who had been running the whole time without stopping didn't seem to break a single sweat the whole time.

“Oh, isn't that Lee?” you heard the boys talking to each other as they finally managed to clear up the field.

“The one with the boobs?”

You were fast to roll your eyes, angry tears burning up in your eyes at their careless words. Screw them all. Instead of staying on the field, you went inside the gym next to the field to get some water and try to calm down. Even though it was cold outside, a cold drink would hopefully help quieten the small rage inside of you. People like those were the ones you despised. They didn’t know anything about you and, naturally, you didn’t know anything about them. Yet, you were constantly under their scrutiny and sexualized in more than one way.

“Idiots,” you murmured to yourself, your skin heating up at the change of temperature once you entered the small building.

As you were filling up your bottle with the cold water, you heard the jerks entering the gym as well. They were laughing and joking amongst each other, their throaty laughs reaching your sensitive ears.

Cursing under your breath, you finished filling the bottle and turned to leave, just to stand face to face with all of them. They were grouped up on you, smirking.

Without sparing them another glance, you moved to walk around them but someone grabbed your arm, yanking you backwards, your back hitting the wall next to the water filter. It took you off guard and you managed to hit your head, too, and you scrunched up your face, hissing. “You piece of shit,” you spat angrily, your rage growing more when you noticed the dude’s hungry eyes on your chest.

“You surely are feisty! We heard so much from the seniors about you,” one of them spoke up, his eyes barely visible as they were shaped like slits, thin like pupils of a cat in broad daylight. “We all know you like to go against the rules.” A round of snickers resonated the otherwise empty space and you felt your heartbeat pick up in fear.

“Okay,” was your blunt answer and you once again wanted to step aside but the same jerk grabbed your arm, bringing you back. You gritted your teeth.

“You ain’t leaving just yet, little kitten,” he murmured darkly and this time, you felt like you wouldn’t be able to escape. “We won’t do anything bad. Just give us a little show of what you’re hiding underneath that hoodie of yours.”

If someone was living in your body right now, they’d know in an instant something terrible was happening, for your legs were shaking like a jelly, becoming one with the asphalt and therefore making you unable to move. Despite that, you scoffed, stubbornly insisting on showing your confident side. Those idiots wanted a reaction from you, but you wouldn’t give in. “Then turn on some porn. Though I’m not sure you’re ready to see that either with your tiny, premature, out-of-control dicks,” you said in a levelled voice, cutting each word off to emphasize the meaning so that their small brains would understand. “You ain’t shit,” you added when you saw some dudes growing red.

“You little bitch-“

There was an unexpected shadow that swooshed past and just in that second, too many things happened at the same time; a familiar scent hitting your nose; a sound of skin slapping skin reverberated the empty space followed by a groan. “She said to leave her, so respect a lady’s wish,” a low growl reached your ears and you almost fainted when you spotted short blonde hair and a handsome profile. Even from the side you could detect he was glaring, a stern gaze bringing out his authority and dominance that would make anyone quiver and render into submission. “Just a tip for the future if you want to get your dick wet,” added mockingly Baekhyun. He was staring down the group of young students for a little longer, surprisingly none of them making a fuss, before Baekhyun looked down at you, your shocked expression making your eyes much bigger than they usually were. “Let’s go.”

He didn’t wait as he started to walk ahead, only a couple of steps later looking behind his shoulder to double check whether you were following him or not.

Your legs had a mind on their own when they moved after Baekhyun, but your heart was beating crazily fast, the unexpected presence of the only male who was able to make you speechless and make you go crazy at the same time still stunning you. Why was he there? How did he know where you were? Oh, was it because you wished to meet him again? If so, then you wished all your wishes would become true this fast.

He led you outside of the gym, the annoyed voices of the boys barely reaching you now that they were out of ear shot. Cold air hit the dried sweat on your skin, making you shiver. Baekhyun stopped abruptly when he reached the track again and turned to look at you with an unreadable gaze. His heavy breathing was condensing into small puffs, his nose a little red. The chilly air biting his cheeks made his eyes water. You couldn’t stop staring at him and at the way he looked in that moment.

“You should-“

“Thank you,” you muttered at the same time as he spoke up.

Both of you went quiet right away and awkwardness creeped into the space between the two of you. Growing red, you averted your gaze, looking at the ground and hoping your wild heart beat would calm down.

“You should have been more careful,” he finally told you quietly, ignoring your word of gratefulness. There was a slight scolding undertone in his voice. “Those jerks are little kids who think with their dicks.”

You grew even more red at his words. Baekhyun must have heard their stupid request. Your throat restricted and your heart once again started to beat loudly. “I would have been okay,” you insisted. “But thank you anyway.” You meant it. You really did.

Baekhyun saw you averting your gaze again and he took the time to observe you. You were still too young, but he definitely noted the way your facial features matured, with each passing year turning you into more of a grown woman while leaving the teen girl behind. Your hair was long and it seemed you lost some weight in your cheeks. He couldn’t imagine how much of a hard time you were having the whole time he wasn't by your side. And then you had perverts following you around.

He cursed mentally, hating the simplest idea of anyone imaging you in a more mature way than you let on to a plain eye. Those bastards should have been thankful he didn’t actually use fists as he so wished. Because when they asked you to undress, he swore white spots of anger were blinding him, his emotions a wild hurricane of rage and hatred. The only thing moving him forward was to protect you even though you would have hated it.

“Just be careful next time,” he added gently, his features softening.

You looked up at him upon detecting the tone of his voice. “What are you even doing here?” Just then you took notice of his outfit and you recognized it. He was the person running when you arrived. He had been here the entire time, but you were swimming in sweet obliviousness. And just like that, the picture of him in the calendar popped up in your mind, making you avert your eyes right away. Heat pinked your cheeks which Baekhyun mistook for the coldness biting your cheeks.

“I come here to run,” he told you in a somber voice. “And we also work out here with Sehun so if you think I followed you here, you’re wrong.”

“I didn’t think you followed me here,” you retorted, wanting to roll your eyes.

“Well, on the contrary, I didn’t know you run too,” he said, a hint of tease present in his voice, though he didn’t smile. Showing his relief of you communicating with him could be a strategic bad step on his side.

You sighed at the mention of running and the reason behind it. “I’m doing a race at the festival so I have to practice. I’m not enjoying it and I’m not doing it out of my own will.”

“Then why would you do it if you don’t want to do it?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Because I’m in the student council,” you replied almost in a whine. “They asked me and I couldn’t say no!” You threw your arms around, making it sound like a big deal. And for you, it was a big deal. You didn’t like how you were easily pushed around.

Baekhyun nodded, a small smile stretching his lips when he saw your comprehension. Sweet university life. “You must be very liked by everyone.”

You froze at that. That wasn’t true. How would you tell your ex the reason everyone was all over you was because you had huge tits and you were friends with Chul? “It’s not like that…”

Baekhyun nodded, noting your discomfort but deciding against questioning it. He didn’t think he was anywhere near the position to stick his nose into your business. For all he knew, he’d scare you away like that time in the bar but, frankly, he didn’t even utter a single word that night to give you a reason for your abrupt fleeing.

“So you run here often, huh,” he heard you say and then saw you shuffling your feet, the small stones of the track field rustling under them.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied almost breathily. There was an upcoming question hanging in the air but he already forbade himself to hope.

You bit your lip harshly, bringing Baekhyun’s attention to the action. You were gnawing on it and you felt your body and mind betraying you. You were supposed to be mad at him. You despised this man standing in front of you so why was your heart beating frantically and, at his gentle tone, butterflies fluttering in your tummy? You felt warm just by his presence. He saved you. Yes, he didn’t even touch you, didn’t even take your hand like they do it in the movie. However, you witnessed the rage, the anger, the hatred, the need to fight but going against it so as not to cause problems. He cared about you, and he was still mature about it.

“Okay. Well, then, I guess I’ll see you around,” you muttered eventually, causing Baekhyun to deflate invisibly. An eager question cut through his mind: and when do you come to run here? I don’t like that you run here alone.

“Where do you stay? I’ll take you home,” he spoke up casually.

“I live in the dorms, it’s no biggie,” you shrugged just when the group of boys flooded out of the gym, spotting you and Baekhyun. They were noisy once again and immediately took advantage of the situation when they shouted:

“If it isn’t the love birds! We thought you’d be home and fucking her by now but guess who didn’t get their dick wet now?” They laughed in unison, finding their words funny and mocking.

You pulled a disgusted face, though you reddened in embarrassment at their words, and looked up at Baekhyun who was glaring at them again. “Come, I’ll walk you to your dorms,” he muttered so that only you could hear and this time, he took a hold of your hand, his skin soft and a little dry in your sweaty palm. You were shocked at how quickly your hand clasped around his.

Cat calls reached the both of you as the boys approached you. “Woohoo, they are about to do it-“

Baekhyun was fast. Before you realized the warmth of his hand leaving yours, you heard a loud snap, his fist landing with the dude’s face. You squealed, covering your mouth in shock and just like that, Baekhyun had professionally put the lad down, having both his arms locked behind his back. It vastly made you remember when he did a similar move with your brother in his office at the police station, and chills ran down your spine.

Right. Baekhyun first arrested you, and then your brother who was still in jail until now. Baekhyun lied to you to get closer to you. Right. Right, right, right.

“Don’t ever even imagine her in your filthy mind,” Baekhyun’s voice thundered through the space. It kept growing more distant as you realized the hasty steps you were making backwards before you turned around and started speed walking out of the field and towards the dorms. Angry tears blocked out your vision and you quickly tried to rub your eyes, annoyed that you always let your tough stance sway whenever he was around. He dared to be kind to you. He dared to be soft to you. He dared to-

“Nari! Wait!”

Baekhyun was jogging towards you and your breath hitched in your throat, hearing his fast approaching steps. “Nari!”

Sooner than later he caught your wrist and wanted to stop you but you surprised him. You were now far off the field, not a single soul around. Your palm landed on his cheek and Baekhyun’s face snapped to his right side. “I hate you!” You shouted shakily, more tears spilling down your cheeks, the snot out of your nose. You were a mess. “I hate everything you put me through, Byun Baekhyun! You lied to me! Why did you lie to me?! I loved you!” You shouted again, and squeezed your eyes shut.

Baekhyun slowly turned his head back, your slap still stinging on his cheek. His eyes were wide but he knew exactly what was happening. “C’mon. Don’t hold back. Let it out. Hit me again,” he encouraged in a low tone that made you frustrated even more.

You were breathing raggedly and pushed him in the chest, making him stumble backwards. He could have easily fought you, he could easily stand still, not budging under you, but he let you. He knew you needed this to finally let go of your suppressed feelings and, hopefully, of the heavy past he made you go through. “You fucking liar! You fooled me, played with me, made me dream of something beautiful just for you to crash it! You ruined my family! I hate you! I hate you so much! You make me go crazy with hatred!!!”

Another strong push. He was surprised at how strong you actually were; when emotions spoke, people could be either extremely vulnerable or extremely strong. You seemed to be the opposite, for speaking up about your emotions made you scarily strong. “I hate that you made an idiot out of me! You fooled me and I trusted you the whole time! You locked up my brother! You did it in front of my eyes!! As if I didn’t matter shit to you! You were so fast to let me go when you thought I’m the criminal! That was all my worth to you!” you hiccuped, more cries taking over you as the painful memories kept swimming in front of your eyes, making you relive the emotions, the scenes. Those memories were blinding you and Baekhyun just let you open the Pandora box. You were breaking down.

It hit you too, that you never talked about your feelings. You couldn’t talk for a long while after being in shock at the events, and then you became one with ignorance towards your own emotions.

You took a deep breath and pushed him again just for you to lose your strength that was fueled by deep anger. Baekhyun couldn’t even pretend to step back. Your palms were still, pressing against his sturdy chest but you couldn’t make him move anymore. You were crying now, your voice shaking and your eyes still squeezed shut. “What did I do to deserve this… when all I did was love you honestly, purely,” you wailed, your voice sounding almost like a wolf’s howl in the empty streets of the campus. “I was just seventeen…”

Baekhyun was quiet the whole time, emotions of guilt eating him away just like they had been for the past year. His own heart was in pain and he knew how hurt you were but seeing you like this made his heart split into two. You were a complete, utter mess.

You didn’t know how much time passed without any of you speaking. The only thing you grew to realize was that you were in a tight embrace, the arms of your ex-lover protectively around you as his palm was drawing soothing circles into your back. His breathing seemed much more steady compared to yours, his scent filling your senses with comfort and familiarity you had been looking for ever since you met him a year ago. Your nose was on fire from crying, skin harshly clashing with the cold night air, but Baekhyun's presence made everything seem bearable. Even if it was just for a few minutes that you could pretend all was okay.

Squirming a bit, you moved away from him and he was fast to drop his arms, not wanting to upset you more. Your hand came up to wipe the tears and snot away, not caring you probably looked very un-ladylike in front of your eternal crush. “Leave.” You told him and turned around, heading towards the direction of your dorms. Your head was pounding, making you groan gently at the discomfort.

“Nari, wait,” he tried, making a step after you with a reached out hand but you turned your head as you walked, dismissing him with a single glance.

“I don’t want to listen right now.”

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A/N: sorry it took me a while to update. I hope some people were waiting and looking forward to this chapter even though it took me time ❤️ let me know your thoughts please? ^^

#exowritersnet #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun scenario #exo fanfiction #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #exo #CB #mywritings

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 4 years

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Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: You’re the new assistant to the BAU team and intimidated by such a smart group of people, especially Dr. Spencer Reid, which leads to you having the biggest crush on the pretty boy.

// Request by @slutlanna976 Hey, I was wondering if maybe you could write something about maybe reader joining the BAU, but maybe as just an assistant or something? Like they take her out on cases and stuff but she's not like an actual agent, and she isn't really that smart and feels intimidated about being around them, especially spencer and has like the biggest crush on him and is super nervous around him, and she doesn't think he likes her back and over hears her talking with the girls about him? So and like she loves listening to him rant or say facts, even if she has absolutely no idea what he is talking about, and always pays attention to what he is saying? And maybe she often asks spencer really silly/stupid questions in an attempt to learn more so she feels less stupid around him and just to hear him ramble on? ///

A/N: I hope this is what you wanted and that you like it!! Thank you for your request :) xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

I am currently taking requests for:

The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Elijah Mikaelson

Damon Salvatore

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

Supernatural: (I’m only up to season 2 at the moment, so please don’t give requests with spoilers)***

Sam Winchester

Dean Winchester

Outer Banks (Netflix):

John B Routledge

JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNER

You weren’t a cool and badass FBI agent like the rest of the BAU team, but only an assistant. Hotch had hired you as an assistant to the team. You were to follow along on cases and well, be an assistant to everyone on the team, to some degree of course. You were there taking notes if they asked or needed case files made or needed to find casefiles. You did a wide range of tasks and you loved every minute of it. Even if you weren’t an actual agent, you still enjoyed spending time with the team, especially with a certain Dr. Spencer Reid.

You often felt intimidated by the team since they all were smart and intelligent. You weren’t as smart as them. You didn’t have a degree like some or multiple degrees like Dr. Reid. You were always learning new things from Spencer. He was always telling you facts and statistics, things you didn’t much care for and half the time you had no idea what he was talking about. Especially when he would discuss chemistry. However, you were always listening and always paying attention to him when he spoke. Often asking questions to show you were listening and paying attention to him.

You were currently on the jet with the rest of the team, notebook and pen in your lap. Spencer sat across the table from you, Derek beside him and Emily beside you. Hotch, Rossi and JJ sitting on the couch. You looked out at the window and could see a city below, surrounded by mountains. It was a beautiful site. “That city is beautiful.” You gushed.

Spencer had glanced out at the window, “Franklin, Tennessee. Population 80, 914 as of 2018.” You turned to face him, surprise written all over your face, “How the hell did you know where we were? And you just know the city population off the top of your head?”

He looks up from the case file, clearing his throat and pointing behind you, “Well that told me where we were, but yes. I do know the city population off the top of my head. My family vacationed there once.”

You looked behind you, the TV on the wall, showing the location of the jet, blushing you turned back around, attention on Hotch as he spoke about the case.

Your mind wanders back to when you first met Spencer. Hotch was introducing you to the team in the briefing room and you’d shook everyone’s hand and been introduced to everyone but Spencer. He was last.

“This is Dr. Spencer Reid. Reid this is our new assistant, y/n.” Hotch announces.

You hold your hand out to him, “Doctor huh? Impressive.” Great, another person who was probably much smarter than you.

He glances at your hand, “Not that kind of doctor.. I have three PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry and Engineering. The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss.”

You glanced at your hand and slowly dropped it to your side, “Right.” You nodded.

He then holds his hand out to you, “Which is why carry hand sanitizer.” He smiles, “It’s nice to meet you.” He didn’t have any hand sanitizer and he never shook hands with anyone, but the look on your face made him feel bad. Plus, he thought you were cute.

You blush and shake his hand, “Nice to meet you too.”

The unsub was decapitating heads and leaving them on poles around a riverbank, so Hotch decided to send you, Rossi and Reid to the crime scene of the last victim. You were careful to follow behind Spencer, scared to mess up any of the crime scene. This was a new one for you. Usually Hotch made you stay in the precinct.

You mentally cursed Hotch for sending you out in the field because you had not worn the right attire. Spencer had held his hand out to you, helping you down the steep hill, but one step on a few leaves sent you sliding. Spencer was quick to catch you under the arms, “You okay?”

You quickly nodded and composed yourself, “yeah. Yeah, thank you.” You blushed, “Hotch never sends me out in the field.”

He nods, “I don’t understand why he did because this is one of the gory crime scenes..”

You followed him and Rossi to the bank and Spencer was right, it was gory. Some of the heads had already decomposed, others in the process. You could smell death. “How could someone do this.. I mean why decapitate them and put them on a pole?

“Contrary to popular belief, decapitation is not that easy.” Spencer says, slipping on a pair of gloves.

“You don’t often hear ‘popular’ and ‘decapitation’ in the same sentence.” Rossi mumbles, getting a look at the last victim.

“Isn’t decapitation like a… medieval thing?” You ask, looking at Spencer.

He turns to face you, “According to tradition, beheading by sword was introduced to England by William the Conqueror in the 11th century. Death by the sword, in which the victim stood or knelt upright, was usually reserved for offenders of high rank, as it was considered to be the equivalent of being killed in battle (I actually received this information word for word from HERE so all credit to them. This is not my words, it’s directly quoted from the website,)” How did he know all this information word for word?

You nod, listening intently. The way his hands would wave around while he spoke, the glisten in his eyes and the way his lips were tugging at a smile. Rossi had already stopped listening when he heard Reid say ‘According to…” but you, you listened to him speak as if the world depended on it. You were captivated by how smart he was and how much information he could remember and speak back word for word. You knew you’d never be as smart as him, but Spencer was always telling you new things you’d never known and he never once would make you feel stupid, no matter how silly or stupid the question you asked was. He’d happily answer, a smile on his face. He liked talking to you about facts or statistics because he always knew you’d listen to him and you were one of the few who would let him rant, no matter what the topic was.

“Why would the victim stand or knelt upright?” You ask. It was such a dumb question to ask, but you wanted to hear him talk more.

“Well because a block would have impeded the downward stroke of the weapon.” He points to the victims, “However, these victims were beheaded using an ax, not a sword, which was actually the customary method of executing traitors in England.” Credit

You begin taking in the information, “Okay, so you think maybe these people could have been a traitor to the unsub somehow?”

He furrows his eyebrows in thought, “That’s actually a great assumption… I’ll have Garcia look at the victims and see what they all had in common. Great job, y/n.”

You blush and give a small shrug, “I guess I’m catching on.”

You were back at the precinct with the rest of the team, putting together their board for them. JJ and Emily helping pin photos of the victims and other relevant information. You glanced over your shoulder, Morgan and Reid by the table, going through case files.

“So, how’d today go with Spencer?” JJ asks, bumping hips with you.

“Oh that’s right! Hotch put you out in field with you and Rossi.” Emily smirked, wiggling her eyebrows, “So how was it?”

You blushed and shook your head, glancing back over your shoulder to make sure Spencer couldn’t hear. You turned back to the girls and leaned in close, whispering. “It was amazing.”

JJ laughed, “I figured you would enjoy being out in the field with him. That’s why I spoke to Hotch before getting on the jet”

Your eyes went wide, “You did what?!” You whispered yelled.

Emily patted your shoulder, “It’s okay. Hotch is all for it. You know, you and Reid” She laughs a little.

You groaned a little, “Stop.. I can’t believe you guys talked to Hotch.” You bit your lip a little, “It really was a good day though. I enjoyed seeing him work. He’s so smart and intelligent and just plain.. just plain sexy.”

“Oh gosh, you are so smitten with him.” JJ pinned the last photo on the board, “Why don’t you talk to him?”

You shake your head, “Oh no. He’s too smart and intelligent for me. Plus, he doesn’t like me like that. I think he has his eyes for that front desk lady.”

Emily and JJ both rolled their eyes, “He is not too smart and intelligent for you. You are so beautiful and he’d be crazy to not like you.” JJ says.

“Yeah and I know for sure he doesn’t have an eye for the front desk lady. I think she does, but he’s not interested. He’s too polite to tell her off.”

Spencer didn’t mean to ease drop on the conversation, but as soon as his ears heard his name, his ears perked up. He continued going through files with Morgan, but he listened in. He couldn’t help but blush a little when he heard you talk about him. He agreed with you, today was great. He enjoyed spending time with you in the field and you listening to his rants. Plus, your input about the unsub seeing the victims as a traitor, turned out to be true. The victims had one thing in common and they all attended game nights at the same bar. He silently thanked JJ and Emily for putting their nose in your business and asking Hotch to let you out on the field.

Case was solved, unsub was taken to jail and now you and the team were on the jet heading back home. It was an early flight and you hadn’t had time to get coffee but luckily there was a coffee maker on the jet. You headed into the little area where the coffee maker was and waited for the coffee to brew, leaning against the counter you let your eyes close for a second. You were going to need a nap later.

Spencer cleared his throat, “y/n?”

“Hmm?” you say looking up. When you see it’s Spencer, you immediately stand up a little straighter, “Hey, Spencer.” You blushed a little, motioning to the coffee maker, “Want me to make you a cup?”

He shakes his head and steps closer, “Maybe later.”

You nod, “Is there something else I can get you, then?”

“A date.”

Your eyes go wide, “A w-what?”

“A date.” His fingers tap on the counter and then he looks up at you, “I um don’t like the front desk lady. I like someone else.”

“Oh god. You heard that conversation…” You groan and cover your face in embarrassment, “I can’t believe you overheard that.”

He chuckles, taking your hands off your face, “I’m glad I did.. I wasn’t sure if you liked me. But now that I know that you like me back, I can ask you on a date.” His thumb rubs your hand, “So what do you say? Can I take you out on a date?”

You look down at y’all’s hands ‘his hands are so soft,’ and then back up at him, nodding, “I would love too, Spencer.”

He smiles, “Great.. so um dinner tonight then?”

“Sounds great.” You smile.

“Quit pushing me before they hear us!” Emily whisper yells.

“I want to listen too!” JJ whispers.

“Did your plan work?” Hotch’s voice.

“My man, Reid.” Morgan.

“How is it that Reid gets a woman but I can’t find my 4th wife?” Rossi.

496 notes · View notes

readyplayerhobi · 4 years

Text

Flower | 21

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, slight angst

; Word Count: 3.2k

; Warnings: Slight anxiety

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: Hopefully you all enjoy this :) please leave comments or feedback so I can see what you’re all thinking! :D

; Flower Masterpost

Hoseok was sitting on the other side of the coffee table in front of you, a small furrow in his brow as he examined the small tile in his fingers. His lips pursed, soft and rosy pink in the dim lighting you’d set up in the living room for tonight.

Neither of you had anything to do for the evening, with Hoseok’s friends going to a concert that he hadn’t been interested in. Apparently that was actually a band he didn’t like listening to, so he’d happily avoided attending. It meant that he had this Friday evening free, which in turn meant that he was with you for once.

The two of you had settled into a little routine over the last nine months. Hoseok would stay over four or five days a week, spending the remaining days either at his apartment or his parents. Occasionally even at his friends if they went to a concert or just had a night out.

Friday’s were his designated evening to spend with his friends. They would usually meet up at the bar they frequented or go to one of their houses, get drunk and rowdy. Or sometimes they’d go on a trip to a nearby city, spending the night there instead.

It had apparently been their tradition for a long time now, with Friday’s being the start of the weekend and no work. All of them got involved, though Namjoon and Amelia often ended up missing them due to their baby. Though you knew that Namjoon sometimes came along, sent by Amelia to enjoy a night with his friends.

You didn’t mind that he spent that time with them. In fact, you were glad of it. The last thing either of you wanted was to become so reliant on each other that neither of you spent any time with your friends. So you encouraged him to enjoy those Friday’s, knowing that you got the rest of the weekend with him.

Wednesday’s were your night with Chungha and Soyeon. The board games had returned frequently and sometimes, they even managed to coax you out to a restaurant where you would all happily talk about your lives, the state of the world and more. It felt nice, to know that you’d developed a routine that was drastically different to the one from a year ago but still solid enough that you felt stable with it.

It felt healthy, like neither of you were becoming too reliant on each other while still being able to have a good amount of time with your family and friends.

But tonight, you’d invited Hoseok to stay even though you normally never really saw him on Friday’s. Only if you’d specifically asked for him to stay free, such as when you took him to the beach house. He’s happily taken you up on your offer and had told you that he’d get Chinese takeout for you both, which had been greedily consumed an hour earlier.

And now...you were both sat playing a board game. A city and map building board game at that.

A snort left you as you wondered whether Hoseok would have ever expected to be playing Carcassonne on a Friday night with his girlfriend a year ago. You certainly wouldn’t have expected it. Not with someone who looks like him and has his tastes in music and entertainment.

Glancing up at you, Hoseok’s brow rises slightly before he places the tile down carefully. It lines up with the half of a city on another tile, and he carefully places the little wooden ‘meeple’ down in the middle of his now completed city. Looking at the points board, he moves his point keeping meeple up by two before giving you a big smile and taking the one he’d put on the tile off now it was completed.

“Two points...yeeeah.” He says happily and you laugh, shaking your head as you pick a tile from one of the three piles. Your tile has green grass and a little church on it, causing you to place it carefully in a free space in the middle of the map, a little ‘abbot’ meeple being placed on top. You smirk at him as you move your point keeping meeple up by eight before claiming your abbot back.

“Eight points...yeeeeah.” You mimic him, causing his eyes to narrow. It amuses you how competitive he gets in board games. He’d never really played any like the kind you played before he’d started dating you, and it was only in recent months that he’d started to show an interest.

That had made you excited, as you loved playing them and having someone to play with constantly meant you had already been eagerly searching websites for the games that you’d always wanted. As much as Chungha and Soyeon loved to play too, they weren’t too interested in the games that required more time and patience.

“You know...I can’t believe I’m getting overly into a board game where I’m making a city of all things.” Hoseok muses, almost bringing your own thoughts to life and you can’t help the laugh that leaves you.

“I was literally just thinking that. It’s definitely not what I expected. But it’s fun right?” You say with excitement, beaming so wide to him. He pauses for a moment, just taking in your smile before sighing gently and nodding.

“Yeah...although it’d be more fun if you wouldn’t purposefully dick me over.” He gestures towards the city that he’d been carefully building over the game, the city getting larger and larger. It would be worth a lot of points to him.

Or it would be, if you hadn’t thought ahead and carefully placed a city tile a little further away from him with a big meeple on it. Those were worth double points...and they always took precedence over smaller meeples. When you’d causally connected your city up to his, it had meant that he’d lost the city to you.

There had been much outrage at first before he’d pouted for a solid five minutes. You’d been giggling at him the whole time, telling him that he’d better step his game up as in the game of Carcassonne, you either win or lose.

Not that he’d truly appreciated that, but he had been a little cunning since. Purposefully blocking your cities or roads so that they couldn’t be finished. It was all fun though, and you knew that he wasn’t really annoyed.

It was one of the things that made your heart burst about him; how he went along with your tangents on useless topics or actively engaged with your rants or simply listened as you speculated the stupidest stuff to him. You didn’t know many other people who would listen to you properly when you went off on a theory of how to reduce global warming.

That had a more memorable conversation including firing all the rubbish on the planet towards the sun, a mass snow maker in Antarctica to reduce the sea levels and so forth. And Hoseok had gone along with it all, no matter how silly the topic. Even actively contributing towards it.

He never seemed to make you feel stupid for the stuff you talked about. Your bizarre thought processes sometimes left him a little confused, you were well aware of that, but he tried to keep up with you and encourage whatever little thing had sparked your interest.

In fact, you couldn’t really remember every actually causing Hoseok to get annoyed through the things that you loved. Sure, he got annoyed when you didn’t replace the toilet roll when it had run out, instead leaving it on top of the holder or when you didn’t clean the sink of toothpaste stains. He especially didn’t like your habit of barely hoovering and your lack of care about putting clothes away almost infuriated him.

Hoseok was a surprisingly clean man.

But he never got annoyed about things that you loved. Never made you feel silly about them or ashamed. And you loved that about him.

Smiling softly at him as he examines the new tile he’d picked up, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he concentrates once more while his eyes can over the map, you feel the fluttering in your stomach once more. He looks tired, after a long week of work and you can see the shadows under his eyes.

His dark hair is tousled from where he’d run his fingers through it continuously throughout the day and his lips are ever so slightly dry. Humming to yourself, you stand up and quickly disappear to your bedroom before coming back, a small tube of lip balm in your hand. Handing it over to him, you smile as you gesture to his lips.

“Your lips look very dry right now.” He gives a smile of thanks, uncapping it and twisting it up before liberally applying it on. It’s rather ridiculous how good he looks with his now glossy lips but you don’t comment on it, instead leaning forward until you can rest your elbows on the coffee table, chin in your hand as you watch him.

Hoseok is too focused on trying to decide what to do that he doesn’t really notice your perusal. Either that, or he’s too used to it. You do this quite frequently, mostly because you’re perpetually surprised that you of all people managed to date someone like him.

“I l-” The words choke in your throat as you go to say them, your brain catching up with what your mouth was saying far too quickly. Your almost admittance of your feelings made you feel hot, but what made you feel even hotter was the frustration at how hard you found it to get these three words out.

You’d been trying to say them to him for a while now, but everytime you came close, your throat would tighten. Almost like it didn’t want the words to escape, like it wanted to hoard them to itself. You always struggled to talk about your feelings, but this felt even harder. This was something so intimate and personal to you, the words giving Hoseok the ability to hurt you in ways no one else ever has.

Your hands clenched into fists as your jaw sets, the pressure hard and you glare down at the table. It’s like an intense feeling of embarrassment and anxiety takes over every time you try to say it, your body flashing lightning hot and your muscles tensing as if you’re expecting the fright of your life. All because you want to say three words to him.

"You don't have to say it to me." Hoseok said softly, his voice far kinder and patient than it should be. Sometimes you wondered how he put up with you and your mood swings, but you knew why; he loved you.

You’re also not really surprised that he knew what you were trying to say, even if it had come out of the blue like this. He’d always shown that uncanny knack of simply understanding you. But it’s frustrating right now. He deserves to hear it out loud, to hear you say the words that had made you so happy when he’d told you.

"But I should. It's not fair to you." Moving around to your side of the table, Hoseok sits next to you with a smile. Gentle fingers cup your face, applying pressure until you're looking directly into those dark eyes you'd fallen head over heels for in the last few months. He deserved so much better than you and it made your stomach hurt to think that. You knew he'd berate you for that kind of mindset.

"Hey, I don't care about what's fair or not fair. I care about you. And your feelings and whether you're comfortable," Hoseok pauses, taking a deep breath before licking lips. "I've known since the very beginning that you're not great at communication. That's fine though, because I've learnt that what you don't say in words...you do in actions."

You frown at him in confusion, hand coming up to rest on him as you wonder what he means and he laughs in response, fingers stroking gently. If it was possible for someone to tell you that they loved you through pure motions alone, then it definitely felt like Hoseok was doing it right now.

"You've never told me that you love me in words. But you've been telling me for a while now that you do with what you do for me. When you buy me that stupid thing in a store 'cos it reminded you of me or you get my favourite cereal even if you hate it. When you watch films and programmes for me, or listen to my music because it makes me happy. When you make the effort to call me, even when you don't like it. When you come with me out with my friends, even if it makes you uncomfortable."

Your body feels warm at that, squirming in discomfort at his words. "Those are normal things, right? Isn’t that what girlfriends do for their boyfriend?"

Hoseok shakes his head in response. "No, well yeah. But you take it further. It's like you're always wanting to make sure I'm happy and content so you do everything to make that happen, no matter the cost to you. I worried that you're making yourself unhappy doing it, but then I watched you with your parents or Soyeon or Chungha and just realised...that's you. Some people say 'I love you' a lot, some people are physically affectionate...and some people do things to show their love."

There's a silence that falls after that, warm and filled with plenty of emotion you can't identify. You turn his words over in your head, chewing on them and realise slowly that he's right.

"I like to make people happy. If they're happy then I'm happy because I did something good." The words sound a little childish and you look away, hoping that he doesn't think they are too.

But he just wraps his arms around you, pulling you to him and hugging you tightly. Neither of you say anything for a moment, just letting the moment percolate just a little bit longer and you enjoy everything about him.

The strong feel of him against you, the warmth he radiates and security you feel in his arms. His addictive scent that sends a wave of pleasure through you as you bury your nose into his neck, inhaling deeply. You finally get what some people mean when they say that their partner feels like home, because while you may have only been together a few months, you have never felt more at home with someone before.

Hoseok shifts slightly and you feel a gentle pressure on your temple, the hard coldness of his piercing letting you know that it's his lips. He stays there for a moment, petal soft lips against your skin as he takes in a deep breath.

"I love that about you...you know that? You're very easy to please. You never want big fancy things or anything like that. Just...affection." His words are a tiny bit husky but you can feel the amusement laced through them, the flow slightly stilted as if he's not sure how to word things.

Pressing your forehead against his collarbone, you look down to where your hand rests on his thigh and take a deep breath. Mind racing, nerves dancing, stomach swirling and body tensing, you finally do it. You push through the fear and the anxiety that overwhelms your body and say what you’ve been trying to for so long now.

"I love you Hoseok."

You're so quiet that you're not sure he's even heard you, but you're too focused on your hand on his thighs. As you say the words, you poke at the firm muscle lightly, almost as if by doing so then he'll be distracted and he won't hear.

But he does hear. Of course he hears.

You can feel the tremble through his body, the way his breath hitches ever so slightly and you feel hot all over with embarrassment. Which in turn makes you feel ashamed, because you shouldn't be embarrassed to tell the man you love, your boyfriend of nine months, that you love him.

And yet you are, because you struggle to talk about big and important emotions like this.

He understands though. Hoseok understands how big of a step this is for you, how important this is and how much nerve you'd had to build to finally let yourself say it. You still feel like throwing up, but part of you is elated to get it out.

"Yeah?" He whispers softly, nose running along your hairline and you nod in response. Staring firmly at the Iron Maiden band shirt, you poke gently once more at his thigh.

"I love you." This one is even quieter but he doesn't care. You can tell he doesn't care, because he simply hugs you tighter before pulling away to press a long, emotion filled kiss to your lips.

The two of you somehow managed to finish your game of Carcassonne, with you winning. Hoseok didn’t seem to care though, and once you’d both finished tidying it away, he’d been eager to pull you to the bedroom. It was there that you discovered perhaps the best sex you’ve ever had, all because both of you were feeilng particularly loved up and mushy.

And now, you’re incredibly sleepy as you lay against him, simply enjoying the feel of him and how at peace you feel with everything right now. How happy you are.

His chest is warm and firm beneath your cheek, rising and falling slowly as he breathes deeply while the comforting thump of his heart beats beneath you. Your hand rests on his chest as well, his sleep shirt covering up the inked skin but you imagine it clearly.

Hoseok probably never expected to meet someone like you when he'd signed up to Flower, and part of you still maintained that he was meant for someone better. Yet here he was, in your bed...in your arms...in your life...in your heart. And he'd openly welcomed you into his own.

You knew that you'd lucked out with him. Seriously lucked out, and you thanked whatever gods were out there for letting you be the one to catch his interest.

Silently, you let your fingers trail along him in a touch so light it was barely there. Reaching where his heart should be you gently press down in a gentle poke. A responding gesture on your back from him makes you jump slightly, looking up at his face only to see it still serene in its peacefulness. But you know he's not asleep, and you repeat the gesture once more on him.

He does it again and you grin, forcing yourself to stay quiet and motionless before you settle yourself down to sleep properly. Hoseok said that you showed your love in actions because it was easier than using words, and he was right.

It was easier and you felt far more comfortable doing it than saying it out loud. You'd already made up in your mind what the tiny, innocent gesture meant in your head. It said a lot about how well Hoseok knew you already that he'd figured it out so quickly too.

Poke, I love you.

511 notes · View notes

robotslenderman · 3 years

Note

Ewww getting big privileged homophobe vibes from you. Blocking now.

Thank God.

I doubt you'll ever read this, but just in case hate-reading is your thing - I don't know why you bothered with anon. You're obviously not a follower because I talk about how queer I am here ALL THE TIME. I saw many queerphobes on that queer post, and even visited a few of their blogs. (Most of them were TERFs, except one - you, who claimed to be a trans dude. Maybe you are! Maybe you're not a TERF posing as a trans dude and you really are okay with being part of a movement absolutely dominated by TERFs!)

But there was only one that I left a comment on. You'd posted about how queer people are so horrible to call ourselves queer. Like the anthropomorphic personification of class and tact that I am, I trolled you by asking if my queer presence made you uncomfortable.

Clearly, it did. :)

So go ahead. Call me the first mean name that comes to your head, as if it bothered me what a random totally-not-anon thinks I am. I'm totally fine with queerphobes thinking my existence is homophobic, because the only way they'd understand otherwise is if I pretended I wasn't queer. My alleged homophobia is latched on to my identity as a queer person. The only way you would not accuse me of being homophobic is if I stopped calling myself queer.

So you use my very identity as a weapon against me. I am queer, and I am attached to not being a homophobe. You know that queer people do not want to be perceived as something they hate completely by anyone, strangers included, especially on a website where people harass first and listen later (if at all). So you hold us hostage - deny our queerness, and you'll drop your weapon. You'll drop the word "homophobic" and stop pointing it at me.

I'm not gonna cave to this.

Nor am I going to write an outraged essay about how I'm not homophobic. You know perfectly fucking well that not a SINGLE queer person is straight. You know perfectly fucking well that most queer people are same sex attracted or attracted to enbies. You know perfectly fucking well that queer people have accepted that part of us and aren't dealing with internalised homophobia or inflicting it on other people because we ACKNOWLEDGE our queerness and you can see this, otherwise you wouldn't be getting mad about it. In a homophobic society everyone has a degree of it, but by being what we are we have less of it than the great majority.

You know this perfectly well. Don't fucking pretend otherwise, I would have to believe that you are well and truly and sincerely STUPID to think for one second that you think I'm a straight person or a closeted gay person who's lashing out with malicious homophobia. Real homophobia, not "this person is part of a minority I am bigoted against, so I will claim they are inherently homophobic unless they get back in the closet or categorise themself in a way that allows me to fine tune my bigotry appropriately."

Because let's be real. Queer hasn't been used as a slur in decades and was reclaimed before I was even born. "Gay" was the slur of the time when I was growing up, but people like you never had a problem with that. Why? Because gay is clear cut and well defined. The problem people like you have with queers like me - the REAL problem, not the faux outraged you have made up about my label - is that queer means I have declined your insistence to more accurately categorise myself.

I mean, how else would you know specifically how to treat me? I could be bi and you might hate bi people, but if I'm a gay queer you don't want to aim the wrong type of bigotry at me by mistake - not because you care about gay people (you don't, because many gay people are also queer), but because you don't want to make yourself look silly by aiming the wrong type of bigotry at me. I could be queer because I'm an enby, and maybe you're truescum that would despise me for it, but you don't KNOW whether or not I'm an enby and that drives you mad! You don't want to risk alienating people who care about you by shitting on someone they might not agree is an acceptable target, so you target every queer and claim it's about a word when really, many queer people seek refugee under that term to hide from people like you, and you don't like that we can hide from you, so you try to strip our shelter away from us.

(And let's be honest. You probably don't even actually hate us. You're probably just afraid. Afraid of some identity you don't really understand because you've never taken the time to get to know us, or afraid that society will accept you less if we're "competing" for acceptance and so take some of the spotlight... I won't shit on you for fear, anon. We are all afraid of something. But I absolutely have a problem with how you're choosing to knowingly hurt people to cope with it. You called me "homophobe" to hurt me. There was no other way to possibly interpret the context of what you were saying. You meant to do this.)

So take away queer. Take away the shelter of queer. Force every queer person to divulge, upfront, who they are that makes them friends with queer. Force them out of the closet and pretend THAT'S not homophobic.

Send the gay queers back to the L and G of LGBT, let the TERFs flush out the trans people who are queer because they're trans* and shoo them away from LGBTQ spaces. Or maybe you really are trans, but you want to kick out straight trans people, or enbies, or pan people, or bi people, or ace people, or, one of the many populations that make up the true queer community.

* Not all trans people are queer, but many are BECAUSE they're trans. I would say "many are queer because they identify as queer" because that makes it sound like queerness isn't an inherent part of who we are and gives people like you ammo I have no interest in supplying you with. "Aha! So you CHOOSE to be a slur!" I just know you'd completely ignore everything I said to the contrary and say that.

Yes. The true queer community.

We've told you again and again that we're not calling you queer. We've told you again and again, if you're not queer, you're not part of the queer community. You're LGBT+, not queer. I'm not part of the LGBT+ community, I'm part of the queer community.

The queer community is not the true community of people who aren't straight and cis, that's not what I'm saying. We're not any more or less LGBT+ than you. I'm not invalidating the identities of people who aren't straight and/or cis, because they are who they are, and you don't need to be queer to be LGBT+. But we are the true queer community in that we are queer, and people who are LGBT+ but are not queer are not queer. Only queer people are queer.

("But people use queer community as an umbrella term to mean people who aren't queer, but are still LGBT+!" Buddy, if I have to deal with being called LGBT all the time even though it's not true, while having the people who use LGBT obviously mean me too because I'm not straight, then you can live with it too. That's mostly straights doing that, in which case you have no reason to get mad at US, or people who are are making something for a straight audience or a questioning audience, in which case they're making it accessible because not everyone knows the nuance of queer and LGBTALPHABETSOUP discourse. Or even - and I know this thought is incomprehensible to you, as the centre of the universe - it's actually referring to queer people and queer people only, not LGBT+ who aren't queer. Actually, I love that idea! Queer history is now history of queer people, no non-queer LGBT+ allowed :D)

I've never felt LGBT+ even when I thought I was one of the main four letters. But I've always felt queer, even as my understanding of my specific brand of queerness changed. Queer is an umbrella term that is opt in, that covers any and all LGBT+ people who know they are queer too, who know they're one of us, or who simply choose to call themselves queer for whatever fucking reason they want. Some of us are intrinsically queer, some choose to be queer because of the inclusiveness or relative opacity of the term, and you don't know which one a queer person is unless you have earned our trust enough for us to tell you.

And people like you fucking hate that.

So you know what?

I'm totally fine with you calling me a homophobe because the people who actually know more about me than the few sentences I've given you know that that's a joke, and their good opinion matters more to me than yours.

I'm totally fine with you calling me a homophobe because because it means I've won. I've gotten under your skin, just as your bigotry got right under mine. You're furious you can't categorise me. You're pissed off that I could be one of the LGBT+ people you actively dislike and want out of the LGBT+ community, but are finding a hell of a lot harder to flush out of the queer community because we all look the same at first glance and refuse to give you information you feel entitled to. Because it's easy to force people out of the closet in the LGBT+ community, but much fucking harder in a meritocracy like the queer community. To get into the LGBT+ community, you have to tell them which one you are. Queer? No questions asked, cause you already told us all we needed to know! Welcome home!

But let's say this is all a strawman.

That you really are some well meaning person who has nothing against the more obscure queer identities and that you really do just have a problem with the word. That you truly do think that queer people, the great majority of which experience same sex attraction, are... somehow... homophobic just for using the word despite their advocacy against homophobia and total acceptance of that aspect of themselves and others. That our fight for marriage equality and employment and housing protections and human rights is rendered COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY IRRELEVANT because we used a word that Boomers and even some of gen X hurled at each other because a guy was a little bit girly, or a girl refused to grow her hair long, or because men were scared that a man would treat them the way they treated women. (Because queer as an archaic slur, ultimately, comes from misogyny as much as homophobia.)

Let's say you really do mean well and really do know people who were called queers instead of fags, or you really did grow up hearing "that is so queer" to describe things people didn't like, or you really did have "queer" hurled at you by straight people as if there was something wrong with you for not being cis and straight.

(Notice something, there? You probably haven't actually experienced any of that, nor anyone you know. This wank about who I am as a queer person - it's always aimed at us. Never the straights that used it against us. Nobody uses the word queer except queer people any more, I am 99% certain that you don't know ANYBODY who has had it thrown at them AS a slur, so that means that the only people you can target on your crusade are... gender and sexual minorities. Not cis/straight people. Because they're not calling us queers and haven't in decades.

That means you are knowingly targeting minorities over this EXCLUSIVELY, I am completely fucking certain..

... but I'M the homophobe?)

In which case all I can say is: I hope that the well-meaningness that's made you put this hateful thing into my inbox, that's made you say such hateful things to a minority because of their identity (there's a word for treating people differently because they're a minority, especially hostile treatment..), will outshine the hatefulness of what you're saying and lead you to a better way to express your desire to protect people.

If you truly are coming from a misplaced belief that we're somehow deprecating ourselves by being queer, and not a desire to force us out of the closet or to run off any gender or sexual minority, then I apologise for my hostility, acknowledge that learning takes time (and patience that I am unable to give, for I am tired of bad actors pretending they're not and cannot do it), and wish you the best in learning to be inclusive and loving so we can count you one day, at least, as a friend of us queer folk. Maybe one day we'll even welcome you as one of us. I'd love to do that more than I'd like to deal with THIS crap. I can't imagine me going off on you will have helped at all, but from in my experience people who want to protect gender and sexual minorities protect them. They don't target them. That's why I am writing this post under the assumption that you wrote this because you have bad intentions towards me as a queer person, and not out of a well meaning desire to protect anyone you think I've somehow hurt by being me.

In which case? Get fucked.

#long post #queer #queer queer queer #you know how I just said that I often come across as aggressive without intending to?#Disregard that this post is 100% aggressively intended #do not pick on my fellow queer folk or I will Go Off on you #also I don't get using privileged as an insult #that's like insulting me by calling me white #it's a descriptor #some people are privileged #I am privileged in some ways and not so in others #my queerness tho? definitely not

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dreamautonomy · 3 years

Text

Thank you, thank you for the tag @fanarain. I took my time with this. I swear, I got to find a tag game to share with my followers and those I follow. @dreamautonomy needs more love and activity. 😭

I will answer questions about @dreamautonomy (my main that’s not officially a main) and @defectiveconantoy (my more popular Tumblr).

1. Why did you choose your url? I came up with the name Dream Autonomy waaaaay back in 2008. At the time, I was inspired by Kazimierz Dąbrowski's theory of positive disintegration (TPD), where he explained that one must go through anxiety and psychological tension to achieve autonomy and true individuality. In my teens, I dreamt of independence and autonomy, to live on my own terms and break away from society’s rat race. I still do to this day.

For my DCMK stuff, I’ve considered the name Conanology, but someone on Twitter took it. I wanted something witty. Then, I stumbled upon that Reddit post with the counterfeit Conan and Ayumi action figures. They looked so ridiculous and badly made it’s almost a joke. The thread’s first comment: perfect as a funny username. Unfortunately, defectiveconan was already taken here, so I settled with defectiveconantoy (also nicknamed by me as DFCT - DeFective Conan Toy) instead.

2. Any side blogs? @relaxwithanime because there’s a lot of relaxing anime, and I want to showcase relaxing anime scenes. @sillydogpictures, which has no posts. I wanted to show pictures of dogs with intentionally or unintentionally silly faces. 🐶

3. How long have you been on tumblr? It’s complicated! I began lurking back in 2010 or 2011 but didn’t create an account until 2014 with the original dreamautonomy, now the defunct @olddreamautonomy. I never used it until mid or late 2020.

I made @defectiveconantoy back in October 2020 because I considered participating in the DCMK Secret Santa event. I eventually decided not to, as I was busy with school and coping with the pandemic. I didn’t need more deadlines then.

4. Do you have a queue tag? Nope! I should make one once I learn how.

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place? I planned to use @dreamautonomy as a creative blog for posting photography, graphic design, food and travel stuff, motivational stuff, and more. Never happened!

DFCT was made for Detective Conan and Magic Kaito fandom stuff, nothing else.

Stupid me made @defectiveconantoy a completely separate account, even after realizing minutes later that I could have made it a side blog. Oh well! I mostly use Tumblr for fandom stuff nowadays, so I deleted my old Dream account and made a new account as a side blog under @defectiveconantoy. Now, I no longer have to use different apps and browsers for both blogs. Life is good!

6 . Why did you choose your icon/pfp? For Dream, I chose Retsuko from Aggretsuko. That scene wonderfully represents the agony of one’s twenties: working miserable jobs, not being taken seriously, and wishing life was more fulfilling than the average adult life. There she is being “one of us” on a Sunday by lying in bed and scratching her butt. 😂

And for DFCT, how could I not post action Conan from The Fist of Blue Sapphire with the counterfeit action figure’s head replacing the original Conan’s head? 🤣

7. Why did you choose your header? For Dream, because Retsuko’s bouncing her little tail off. For DFCT, because Ran is precious in that scene, all soft and shy.

8. What's your post with the most notes? @defectiveconantoy’s set of GIFs from the Ferris Wheel scene in the Episode ONE special. And that’s my original post. I’ve reblogged even more popular stuff by others.

9. How many mutuals do you have? About a dozen.

10. How many followers do you have? @dreamautonomy: 9 (Most are p*rn bots I’ve reported for spam and blocked. Have no idea WTF I did to attract them.). @defectiveconantoy: 175!! 😁

11. How many people do you follow? 72!

12. Have you ever made a shitpost? I don’t know. I think I only post relevant memes.

Here am I typing this after spending years confusing shitposts with really funny, sometimes offensive memes. I’m still confused about the meaning of a shitpost. I’m not very trend or meme savvy.

13. How often do you use tumblr each day? About 10-20 times a day, usually through my phone app.

14. Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog once? Over ten years ago on websites that Tumblr, Twitter, etc. long replaced in popularity. Even then, I’ve usually been a lurker for most of my life and rarely engaged in arguments or debates. Whenever I did, I regret it to this day. I looked stupid (everyone did, actually). What a waste of time!

I wish I hadn’t forgotten about Detective Conan back in 2004. The DCMK Tumblr fandom is chill and AWESOME! I wonder what the fandom was like back in the 2000s.

15. How do you feel about "you need to reblog this" posts? Ehh…it depends. If it’s something most or everyone agrees with, I might reblog it. I don’t know about you, but such posts often bring the rebel in me. If you say, “REBLOG IT,” I say, “Ehh! Nope.” 😋 Anyway, life is short. I’d rather stick to fandom and humor, things that unite people and make them smile.

16. Do you like tag games? Of course! That’s how I get to know everyone. I should initiate tag games and tag all of you.

17. Do you like ask games? YES! I should start ask games as well.

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is [tumblr] famous? We interrupt this program to give mad props to that nicely formatted Tumblr logo-fied text. 👌

Aaaanyway, I won’t name names. Some are Tumblr famous for different reasons, and that’s what matters. We all contribute different things while being under the same main fandom, ships, arcs, and adaptations aside.

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual? No! Why ruin this nice little Tumblr space for drama? It’s not worth having a crush on people you’ve never met face-to-face imo. I’m not repeating my teenage mistakes.

20. Tags: anyone happy to participate! 😁

#tag game

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septiembrre · 3 years

Note

30 for the kiss prompts!!!!

Prompt: Weak, sweaty kisses because it’s unbearably hot.

@sothischickshe, I made a concerted effort to keep this silly and short. And I gave myself frown lines as I watched it grow longer and longer and… angsty. D:

Featuring:

A magical reappearance of Beth’s furniture

A broken air conditioner

A heatwave

Lots of summer clothing

Sweat (but like the typical annoying kind. This is not a euphemism for sex)

Beth and her anxiety

Rio, a certified Goth™

A relationship not yet ended

Pain

And a Mick cameo, of course!

On AO3, too!

---------

I’VE GOT TO LOSE MY COOL

Beth’s first mistake was not calling the HVAC technician first thing in the morning. She had called on the way out the door, left a voicemail.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal. Wednesdays were usually slow. She would be able to sneak away at almost any point to take a call back. In the message she left, Beth made sure to mention that her only conflict was at three (the weekly drop of bills from Mick). Otherwise, there was plenty of time to schedule the service visit with perfect timing for the impending heatwave.

But, of course, her life was no longer neat.

On this random mid-day shift, there had been a flurry of customers at the store -- multiple special orders for invitations, a desperate maid of honor running in for last minute bridal shower details. And, naturally, it was in this hubbub that the tech had returned her call. There was another subsequent round of phone tag. Beth left a new message.

On her phone, there was also a text from Mick. He was held up -- and that never happened. The texts hinted at some mysterious, more-important errand for their boss and she was a little curious. He had quashed her follow-up questions (only a couple!), with a gruff, “I’ll get there when I get there.”

And he indeed eventually arrived to Paper Porcupine -- a whole hour late and in a terrible mood. He barreled in the backdoor, sans his typical flannel and sans-leather jacket. Instead, he was in a t-shirt and sweaty as all get out in the late afternoon heat. Beth had stared at him aghast as her phone chimed with another call. It had been a perky soundtrack to Mick’s string of colorful swears when he realized he had left behind half the one-dollar bills needed for the next print run.

Well, at least that mess wasn’t on her.

When Beth finally caught the technician on her drive home, she confirmed what Beth had begun to suspect in her gut: they were all booked up with service calls until next Monday.

“It’s the heatwave, Mrs. Boland,” the tech explained over the car’s speaker phone. “Half of Detroit is calling in about faulty units. We can get you in first thing next week.”

Beth had nodded unseen and despairing. She had the AC blasting in the car, but she was still sticky with sweat. It was going to be precisely eleven degrees hotter by tomorrow. Then, it would chart 105 the day after that.

Good Lord.

Her second mistake was not immediately driving to the store to purchase a pool.

This is how Beth finds herself in the middle of the brutal once-a-year Michigan heatwave, reflecting on how truly her life no longer plays out in the tidy, pre-ordained trajectories it used to. And some days this is thrilling but other days, today, it’s...

Terrible.

Beth tries to do what she can.

She digs out her most breathable pair of exercise shorts, short short and purchased two children ago. She dons her comfiest, lift bra and throws on a frayed pink tank top. She no longer wore these articles of clothing in the presence of her husband (especially after that comment now etched into her soul about “a great ass and perfectly shaped boobs”) but kept them tucked into her dresser for such hellishly hot, solitary occasions such as today.

She pulls her hair messily into a lofty bun leaving no opportunity for it to cling to her neck. She also temporarily appropriates three of the flagging household fans and angles all of them carefully at her, meticulously layering the currents. Finally, she sprawls on her bed, starfishing her limbs for maximum air-to-skin contact.

All of it helps a little, but she’s still hot. Beth can’t fathom anything outside of her misery, wants to shed her skin.

She momentarily considers taking her third cold shower of the day.

Then, without realizing it is happening, Beth finds herself an hour deep into a frenzy of online shopping, precariously balancing her laptop so it doesn’t touch her skin.

Her focus: sandals.

Beth knows she shouldn’t go through with the purchase. Rationally, she can admit it is a feverish spiral, fixating on one fraction of why this week is awful. But, it is all she can think about: she does not have any appropriate footwear for this heat.

How will she survive?

From there comes a whole whorl of scenarios. If she could get away with not leaving the house, she could stay barefoot, stick to the shadowy corners of her house, shower any hour of the day. In fact, this was (part of) the reason why she had chosen to stay home as Dean took the kids to the community pool a few blocks over. Her old pair of ratty flip flops had finally given out and the mid-morning heat already had Beth at her wit’s end. God, she just needed some quiet and some sense of distance from Dean. So, she suggested the idea, urged him to go and leave her in peace.

Perhaps, she could send him out for all the kids’ needs and assorted errands?

...But, could he be trusted?

Well, if Beth refused to leave the house, that meant she was also choosing not to go with the kids to the movies or the library, places with functioning air conditioners where she could cool off. And what else could they do tomorrow? Maybe she could dig out the old sprinkler from the garage… But, then she’d have to go into the garage, and the temperature in there--

Anxiously, Beth meanders the tabs on the DSW website and adds two new pairs of flip flops to her cart. One’s a little more casual, definitely good for pool-side and backyard time. The other pair is a little more dignified. They didn’t look like they would clack.

Well, she doesn’t need two pairs...

She’ll narrow it down later.

In the back of her mind, Beth can acknowledge she doesn’t really need to buy anything at all, and that these sandals will not make her current discomfort any more bearable. But, it doesn’t hurt to look.

Oh, goodness -- what about when she has to go back to Paper Porcupine for her next shift? The thought of putting on any of her flats seems like too much to bear, claustrophobic as they were in the heat. Pumps were out of the question. Which brings her to her last job-appropriate footwear option -- her ankle boots. Weirdly, that seemed to be a fashion trend that was happening now, but nope, absolutely not.

It is in this fever pitch, that Beth makes her third and perhaps most egregious mistake: when Rio knocks on the French doors, she lets him in.

In her defense, she’s a little dazed. As mentioned before, the current state of Michigan is literally hell and Rio’s appearance… takes her by surprise. She was not expecting him to show up today with a duffle of the rest of the small bills. He hadn’t texted and to top it off, he is wearing... an outfit she has never seen before.

A sleeveless shirt.

A sleeveless shirt and joggers, fancy athletic ones that look a price point (or three) above the ones she usually buys for Dean. However, despite this new foray into athleisure-wear, Rio remains head to toe in his favorite color with black on black Chucks rounding out the look.

What a goth, Beth thinks, shaking her head to herself. This outfit in over-100 degree heat?

She feels hotter just looking at him.

Like Mick the other day, Rio is sans-jacket, sans-button-up, and sans-beanie and there’s just… miles and miles of uncovered brown, freshly sun-kissed skin.

Maybe, it’s her deep-seated jealousy of people who can tan. All her skin is good for is glowing in the dark and flash burning at the slightest interest from the sun. And mind you, she’s currently safe inside her dim bedroom, but it’s the strangest thing... She’s burning now as her eyes trace the smooth skin exposed at the base of his neck, burning as she follows along the neat, sharp line of his collarbone where she had bit--

Stop, Beth. Why did she still want--

Had he purposefully shown up with a work excuse on the hottest day of the year to pester her? Was this a latent extension of his punishment? Beth thought they were past this.

But, you know what? Whatever. Let him try.

She’s cool. She might be sweaty as hell, and wanting to crawl out of her skin, but she is cool as a cucumber, cold as ice, profoundly unbothered.

She’s so cool that she doesn’t say a word.

Not to greet him, or remark upon the mistake with the drop or… his atypical clothing choice.

She doesn’t comment either on the state of their business or ask after whatever it was he had assigned Mick to do this week and had seemingly gone awry.

She doesn’t comment as his mouth drops open with surprise as he takes in her appearance, his eyes widening with something as intolerably warm as the air around them. The bag slips from his grip just inside her doorway.

Nor does she say anything when Rio follows her back to bed, tethered to her through a tenuous spell of heat (weather or otherwise). She’s cool, indifferent, breezy actually as she repositions herself in the crosshairs of the fans. If she pretends he doesn’t matter, she doesn’t have to share the breeze right? So she doesn’t pay much mind as Rio slips off his sneakers and settles next to her. Instead, she re-balances the laptop and resumes pursuing the online DSW store.

She doesn’t say anything as he eventually shuffles closer, presumably to watch as she adds strappy sandals to her cart (or more probably to peek down her shirt). And god-- this stupid tank top. Maybe her boobs look better from over there in Rio-world, but over here she is sticky with underboob sweat and crossing her fingers that none of it shows through her bra.

His shoulder leans against hers.

And she has every reason to push him away, but… his skin is cool and smooth and not the most intolerable part of this weekend. So, she lets him stay there.

And she continues to ignore him, cool-like, or cool-aspiring.

Until he no longer lets her.

Concentrated as she is on her shopping, she notes idly as Rio’s foot reaches out to nudge one of her fans to aim more directly at him.

Beth can’t help the snarl that comes out of her mouth, “Don’t.”

He always brings out the worst in her.

There’s a low snicker. Her gaze drops down to take in Rio’s arm as it presses up fully against hers. His fingers reach over to pinch her thigh.

“Damn, ma.”

There’s that heat again, the one from inside. God, she hates him.

Beth shuffles away, frowning at her screen. Rio shuffles too, sidling up next to her again. She adds another pair of sandals to her order and then considers her cart.

“Elizabeth…” In the corner of her eye, she catches the movement of Rio shaking his head with reprove. “Think about where you live.”

Beth flails on the bed in a display that admittedly reminds her of her own children in a fussy mood and it only annoys her more. Her bedspread sticks to her arms, the backs of her legs, and the exposed sliver of her midriff where her top is creeping up. Beth shifts, trying to dislodge the cover from her skin, mindful to protect the laptop. It’s only happenstance that she manages not to shift a single inch of where the length of her arm touches Rio’s.

As she tries to calm down, a brief vision comes to Beth -- an alternate universe where the laptop is safely tucked away and the HVAC blessedly functions. The Rio and Beth of this fantasy are them but also not… maybe she’ll call them Christopher and Elizabeth. That Beth -- Elizabeth -- is only mildly inconvenienced by the heat raging outside. She can rest her dampened forehead against the cool arch of his-- Christopher’s neck. She can lean in to press a weak kiss at his collar bone. In fact, she can kiss it anytime she wants, invited to touch him anywhere she like. In this dream, Elizabeth’s ministrations don’t have to be surer or bolder or cool -- because she has him.

All the time.

She can afford to be soft.

In turn, Christopher nuzzles his face into her hair fondly, and that Elizabeth receives a soft kiss at the crown of her head. There’s an undercurrent of sex between them, the suggestion of it, but overall the scene is sluggish in the zenith of summer and content. Elizabeth can curl her body around his and let him hold her--

How silly.

Beth shakes herself out of it and realizes that Rio has shifted on his side, watching her as she’s zoned out staring at the cart full of sandals for too long. His lips twitch and almost pull into a smile. Then, he quells them into mock seriousness.

It feels too intimate, him with her on this bed, her bed, the bed. It feels like Before.

God, why is he here anyway? If she was alone, she could peel off all her clothes and… take an ice bath probably.

Not think of him at least.

Not think about that wild, feverish idea of curling up, fitting her body into his and surrendering to the heat. Not think about how desperately and pettily she wants to pinch him back. She wants to kiss that stupid look off of his face or... Maybe she could purchase all six pairs of sandals and start browsing for pools on Cloud 9 just to spite him--

“I am thinking about where I live and actually, it’s the middle of summer here--” Beth bites out. “--and it’s outrageously hot.”

“Just buy yourself a pair of sturdy white lady shoes. You mean to tell me you don’t already own some Birks?”

“Excuse me--” Beth splutters, incensed. She had considered them first but had been discouraged again by the price tag for a single pair. “White people aren’t only ones who wear Birkenstocks.”

Without missing a beat, Rio volleys back, “Baby girl, what are you going to do with so many pairs of sandals in Michigan the rest of the year?”

“Says you.”

“Oh?”

“You literally have a million pairs of shoes. Your closet is insane.”

It dawns on her, what she just said.

Oh.

Not good.

It’s the fucking heat. At least, the discomfort can’t blotch her cheeks any more than they already are.

She knows that if she looked at him now, she would see Rio doing something... obnoxious with his face. He’s probably smirking in that terrible, gloating, dumb, sexy way that he does, but too bad.

Beth refuses to look at him.

She’s indifferent and unbothered. She’s cool. She’s the kind of Beth that would never ever even think about his closet or daydream about them folding clothes together or fucking on--

So, instead, she snaps her laptop close with a final click. The sandals were a half-brained idea anyway and that was a conclusion she already came to on her own. Thank you very much, boss.

She starts to get up but then Rio’s hand reaches out to curl around her thigh, pinning her to the bed. He squeezes her leg gently, as he has the audacity to shush her.

It’s enough impetus for Beth to rear her head back to meet his gaze again and level him with her most withering glare.

And, what do you know? She was correct. He appears to be very entertained.

This time she feels the heat surge on her face and knows without a doubt that it shows on top of the heat rash.

“Yeah, so… are you ever gonna tell me what you were doin’ at my house?”

“No.” She snipes, prim.

“No?”

“I wasn’t doing anything.” It's outright untruth.

Rio’s amused disbelief and her defensiveness meet in a standoff. Beth knows from experience he’ll try to wait her out and she gnashes her teeth.

Then, there’s a twitch of movement at her thigh, the flex of fingers she realizes are still there and Beth registers the warm span of his hand a few inches above her knee. Her gaze darts down to look at where he’s touching her. He glances down, too. Together they watch as his thumb slowly strokes her skin. Then, again.

They both observe as the muscles in her thighs just perceptively clench.

God, him and her, in this bed.

His voice softens to that ridiculous mumble, both low and rich. “Aw, c’mon, darlin’. You can tell me.”

The tone raises her hackles -- as if she wasn’t already too familiar with this trap! She tries to affect nonchalance -- she’s cool -- and shrugs, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Rio grins. It’s sharp like a knife and charming. She hates that he’s the most attractive person she’s ever met. “You liked my closet?”

Then, an idea comes to her-- how she can best him at his own little game.

Beth curls on her side towards him. Her cleavage deepens and god, she can instantly feel more sweat bloom but she knows what he likes. The line of their bodies is parallel, only separated by an inch or two. They’re sharing the breeze from the fans now and wisps of her hair have gotten loose from her bun and are blowing into her face. Rio’s hand shifts to resettle and it drifts up to stroke her hair back behind her ear. Then it drops to curl at her waist. And you know -- nice move -- but she can do him one better.

“Yes,” Beth says simply. She brings her hands up to trace along the neck of his shirt, across his pecs, and the expanse of skin she hasn’t seen since that afternoon of Before. “I didn’t see this though.”

Then, in a moment of haughty malice, her fingers find the notch of his clavicle. She watches his throat bob as he swallows hard and she counts the success. She ignores the tell-tale temptation to gift him more bruises, to kiss him…

The thought occurs to her, distantly, slowly emerging through the fog of heat, that if she tugged the fabric to the side a bit, she’d find one of the scars she gave him. Her hands become clammy and they retreat.

“You like it?” Rio’s voice comes out a smidge hoarse. But, perhaps only someone who knows him like her would notice.

Beth shrugs a shoulder.

His eyes are bright as he looks back at her. His gaze shifts crass, laden with the suggestion of sex, and there’s a tinge there that's not quite sour per se. But, it’s heavy with the particular weight of who they are now. His line of sight deliberately drops to her cleavage with old, salacious purpose.

It’s not the way he looked at her that day, that one time (or two).

Self-rebuffed, Beth tries not to think too much about how she hates that Rio caught her dressed like this. She itches to pull her top up to her neck or scramble off the bed to find something else to throw on. She itches to disappear entirely or to retreat into her bathroom (and see if this time he’ll follow her there too).

Slowly, in performance, Rio moves the fingers at her waist and dips them under the edge of her tank top. He traces teasingly underneath along her sweaty skin.

“I like this.” Rio says, biting his lower lip lewdly, tugging along the hem of her shirt.

And Beth feels-- she feels--

Too hot.

Too objectified.

Her stomach drops and she wants to crawl out of her skin. This wasn’t, this isn’t-- This isn’t what it was.

No matter who they are this minute, whatever mess continues to unfold, this isn’t what that day was.

She won’t let him ruin it.

“You know I did really like your closet. I liked your shoe racks--” she scrambles, trying to dangle a little of what he wants and to remind him. “Your pictures. Nice touch.”

The comment serves its purpose. It makes him pause, sufficiently rebuked by all the ways that she knows him.

Rio extricates his hand, pulls away from her skin, as she tries again to calm herself. She needs to be cool, cool, cool.

But, it’s unbearable -- who they are now.

She feels frazzled and depleted as she watches Rio roll onto his back. He looks up at her ceiling, not at her. “Why can’t you be honest with me for once?” He says it tiredly, without artifice.

She can’t stand it.

“You’re one to talk.”

Beth watches as Rio is now the one gritting his teeth.

“Y’know--” There’s a poignant, festering beat and then he says, “When I fucked you in this bed, I had wanted…”

More.

That want goes unsaid, suspended in the air around them with the heat.

“But, you just wanted me to fuck you,” he finishes quietly, leveling her.

Her stomach bottoms out newly pained and she wonders if that day, those two times, are already ruined for him. Certainly, she can understand if it’s because of the bullets. But, if he still has any doubt--

She makes a last-ditch attempt at levity.

“You’d probably say this is really… basic bitch of me.” The phrase fits awkwardly, and the call back immediately has Rio’s attention. She knows in her race to pull something together, to make it better, something bearable, whatever she’s going to say is going to be too candid.

“Yeah?”

“But, the times that I’ve been the most… attracted to you--” Oh god, this isn’t coming out light and casual at all. Oh no.

Rio shakes his head at her, “Don’t stop now, Elizabeth.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Beth huffs. Then, she tries again. “One is definitely when you were bashing in that butt-ugly car.”

Rio’s eyebrows raise comically high.

“You know with the crowbar,” She gestures, swinging her hand gratuitously. He absolutely already knows what she’s talking about.

“And two..” Beth shuts her eyes and takes a steadying breath. She hopes for the best and tries not to rush the next bit. “--was when I saw your closet was color-coordinated.”

She sneaks a glance at him, and her stomach twists again.

He has absolutely no business looking so fondly at her.

She strives to clarify. “But, that was before.”

“Not anymore?”

“No.”

Rio nods, presumably in acceptance of her refusal.

But, then he tugs her to him, across him. Beth settles on top of him, too hot, too sweaty. Her forehead comes to rest, pressed against the soft hollow of his neck.

#My writing #my fic #beth x rio #tbh i don't love how this came out but I need to get it off my hands #but I hope folks enjoy it!#and remember what summer feels like #nbc good girls

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