#(instead of turn down all thermostats

[primelinchen-the-second]

TIL that our living room heater isnt (as) broken. The smart thermostats my boyfriend insisted on installing because they're soooo much easier and more convenient just cant connect to the internet so it never received the signal to heat up. And it cant be manually set because it will try to confirm every couple of minutes and without connection just. Turn off.

But hey. It isnt like this is the room i soend most of my time in and have set up my art corner in or anything

[steddiealltheway]

It’s a cold Wednesday night in January that has Eddie turning the thermostat up and allowing the government supplied heat to fill the trailer. He glances up at the vents and gives them a quick middle finger, wondering if they bugged the place to observe him or make sure he isn’t spreading their secrets.

He doesn’t really care at this point if they’re watching though. They already held him at the hospital for long enough, poking and prodding as if he wasn’t even human. But he didn’t turn into a vampire or some shit because of those damn bats. No. The jagged, ugly scars littering his body served as a lovely reminder that he was ultimately human.

Eddie glances at a nearby mirror and cringes at his face, taking a look at the long scar running down his cheek, jaw, and neck. The Corroded Coffin guys all said it made him look metal, and he would throw in a, “Hell yeah,” before smoothly changing the subject to something that didn’t involve him for once.

He takes a finger and slowly trails it over the pale pink skin, wondering if there will ever be a day he won’t notice it.

“Eddie,” Steve calls out gently from the room down the hall.

Eddie jumps back and glances toward him, hand falling to his side and flexing uncomfortably as if he’s been caught doing something wrong.

“You okay?”

Eddie smiles and gestures toward the thermostat. “Damn thing wasn’t working for a minute there. You’d think with the amount of hush hush money they were able to pay all of us, they’d be able to give me and Wayne a better trailer.”

But Steve only crosses his arms and leans against the door frame, eyebrows raising gently. It’s not entirely accusatory, but it’s clear that he doesn’t believe a thing Eddie’s saying.

Although they’ve grown close while going through the same treatment and tests in Owen’s new secret facility, it still surprises Eddie how easily Steve can read people. More specifically, how easily he can read him of all people. “Just got lost in thought,” Eddie confesses while making his way back to his room as he sees Steve squint at the lights in the living area.

Steve steps out of the way as Eddie brushes by him and closes the door. He hope it’s enough honesty to end the conversation.

“What were you thinking about?” Steve asks, ignoring the signals Eddie is giving him.

Eddie sighs and runs a hand over his face and climbs back into his bed, quick to pull up the blanket around himself in an attempt to get some much needed warmth while simultaneously covering his scars from Steve. “Stuff.”

Steve rests his hands on his hips for a second and stares, mouth opening and closing for a moment before deciding against whatever he was going to say. Instead, he climbs into the bed with Eddie and joins him under the blanket, keeping enough distance so they’re not touching, but they can still feel each other’s body heat.

Eddie glances over at him, noticing the way the one lamp turned on in the room gives him a nice golden halo. He looks gorgeous and untouchable - exactly how Eddie used to think of him through high school and sometimes even now. The perfect golden boy. But despite the name Eddie gave to him years ago, he can’t ignore the flaws that Steve possesses, yet they somehow make him even more perfect to him. Or maybe just human.

Eddie shakes his head and glances away. He wishes Steve came over to smoke so Eddie could blame the drugs on the way his thoughts race when he’s next to him. Instead, he has to face up to his enormous crush on the perfect golden boy.

“Have any plans for Valentine’s Day?” Steve asks out of the blue.

Eddie snorts and glances at him, only to laugh harder when he sees the adorable look of confusion on his face.

Steve’s brows furrow but the edges of his lips quirk up. “What?”

Eddie pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to try to hide his wife smile. “Kind of random, don’t you think?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I never said I was great at starting conversations. But I was just thinking about what holiday is next.”

“The worst one,” Eddie complains.

Steve turns toward him. “And why’s that?”

Eddie sighs and let’s himself go on a tangent. “It’s the one day of the year where people feel like they have to do all this shit for their partner, and the rest of the year, they think they can just get by doing the bare minimum. And people are left realizing what it would be like if their ‘other half’ actually put in an effort day to day. And then for all the single people, it’s a day where love is shoved in their face, and they have to feel bad and sometimes disgusted by all the public displays of affection going on around them and… I just hate it all. The stupid chocolates in the red heart boxes and the teddy bears and big heart shaped balloons and roses…”

“I didn’t realize you had such strong opinions about Valentine’s Day,” Steve says with a laugh.

“Well, now you do.”

They both sit in the silence for a few moments, Eddie thinking about all the other things he didn’t even touch on about Valentine’s Day that he hates, while Steve is probably taking in everything he just said.

Steve bumps his shoulder and asks, “So, I’m assuming that means you have no plans.”

Eddie laughs. “That’s what you got out of that?”

Steve shrugs and looks away with a smile.

Eddie glances at his clock and notices it’s technically Thursday now, and in these early hours, Steve will usually either silently fall asleep or he’ll lay awake in the silence until one of his thoughts has to make itself known.

Either way, Eddie knows he’ll be up for a few more hours, but he’s never regret the sleep he’s lost since they’ve made this silent arrangement.

The bed shifts, and Eddie follows Steve’s lead, laying down fully and staring at the ceiling, trying his best not to reach out for the hand laying beside his. He wonders if he should add something to the ceiling like some type of mural with stars and whatnot.

He tilts his head to the side, envisioning how it would look in the lamplight since he and Steve refuse to sleep in the dark. Or maybe it’s just Steve and Eddie’s picked up on the habit of leaving the lamp on.

“Do you think you’ll make plans?” Steve asks quietly.

Eddie turns to look at him, at a lost for a moment before realizing he’s still on the Valentine’s Day subject. He smiles sadly, “No.” Steve glances over at him and holds his gaze, expecting more. Eddie sighs and gestures at himself. “I mean, I’m not exactly what people want to bring home to their parents at the moment plus with the,” he gestures to his face and drops his hand quickly, averting his gaze back to the ceiling.

He hopes Steve will let it go and not connect the dots back to earlier.

A silence settles between them, but Steve’s gaze burns into the side of Eddie’s face. Then, he finally asks, “Is that what distracted you earlier?” When Eddie doesn’t answer he continues, “I saw you looking in the mirror, and I know you usually go out of your way to avoid them.”

Eddie wants to question how Steve noticed, but he doesn’t want to get his hopes up about something that was just passively rather than intentionally observed. “Yeah,” Eddie states simply.

The bed shifts as Steve turns on his side to fully face him. “And you really think you can’t get a date because of them?”

Eddie sighs and rubs both of his hands over his face. “Steve, who is ever going to love me like this?” He turns and continues, “Privately, yes, someone could maybe get past the scars. But in public? You really think someone is going to be proud to say, ‘Here’s my boyfriend,’ and show off me?”

“Yes,” Steve says instantly as if he has no doubt in the world.

Eddie turns away, trying not to get choked up about it. Because how can he explain to him that while it’s nice that Steve has that confidence in him, Eddie wants Steve to be the one to be proud of him. To want him like that.

“Do you think my scars make me unlovable?” Steve asks.

“No! Jesus, Steve,” Eddie rushes to say and turns to him. He reached out and lays a hand over his side, feeling the way the skin puckers under the thin t-shirt. “These are metal as hell. Hot even. They make you more lovable if anything.”

Steve grabs Eddie’s hand and slowly pulls it off his side to hold it up, the scar on it being presented out to Eddie. “And this doesn’t make you more lovable?”

“Steve…” Eddie protests quietly as Steve pulls his hand close to stare at it.

“The scars you got protecting us. You think those make you less lovable?” Steve asks, pulling his hand close enough that his lips ghost over the skin.

Eddie lets out a breath that sounds like Steve as Steve presses a soft kiss into the tough skin. He stares at Eddie with a worried look in his eyes as he whispers, “Too much?”

Eddie shakes his head, too stunned to get the words out.

Steve intertwines their hands and pulls Eddie’s arm toward him. “These scars,” he says kissing the next one on his forearm, “Are beautiful on you.” He moves on to the scar on his elbow stretching to his bicep, lips trailing against the sensitive unmarked skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. “How could anyone hate these?” He asks leaving three soft, lingering kisses before shifting on the bed to hover above Eddie, still holding his hand but now against his stomach so he can press a kiss against his shoulder. “These scars show everyone what you were willing to sacrifice for us.”

As Steve moves to the scar on his neck, Eddie’s head drops back, giving him more access as he groans out, “Steve.”

“These scars,” Steve says, kissing up his neck over and past the scars, “Are exactly,” he murmurs as he kisses past his jaw and peppers kisses up his cheek, “Why I love you,” Steve finishes by pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth near where the scar that Eddie traced earlier ends.

Eddie glances up at Steve as he hovers over him, trying to make sense of everything he’s saying until it finally clicks. “You love me?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods and squeezes his hand before letting it go so he can lightly caress his cheek. “I have since you decided to be a hero and sacrifice yourself. Which was exactly what I told you not to do by the way.”

“I’ve never been great at following rules,” Eddie breathes out and reaches a hand up to run through Steve hair. “Steve?”

“Mhm?”

“I love you, too,” Eddie confesses.

Steve smiles and asks, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He pauses before adding, “You know, one time when I was little, I captured a squirrel and it may have attacked me and left a scar on my lip.”

Steve laughs. “Is that so?”

Eddie smiles and nods.

Steve’s eyes dart down to Eddie’s lips and he moves his thumb to swipe over his top lip. “You know, I think I see it.”

Eddie debates telling him that it was actually his bottom lip, but instead he just breathes out, “Steve.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks with a teasing smile.

“Steve.”

Steve keeps smiling as he hums, “Hmm?” When Eddie huffs, Steve fakes surprise with a gasp, “Oh. You want me to find the picture for you!”

Eddie groans, “Steve!”

“Uh huh?”

Eddie huffs and cups his face. “You are infuriating.”

“Is that s-”

Eddie interrupts him by taking matters into his own hands and leaning up to kiss him. He feels Steve smile against his lip before finally kissing him back.

Steve pulls away and breathlessly asks, “So, do you think you’ll have plans for Valentine’s Day now?”

Eddie’s head thumps back on the pillow. “Oh my god.” Steve laughs. “Oh my god!” Eddie says and shoves Steve off of him only to roll over so he hovers above him. “You were trying to ask me out this whole time?”

“No, I just wanted to know your opinion of Valentine’s Day.”

Eddie gives him a light punch to the arm and smiles wide as he stares down at Steve, lying beneath him in the golden lamp light. His perfect golden boy.

“I still hate it by the way. Even if I have plans now,” Eddie comments seriously.

“Don’t worry, I’ll put in the effort year round for you and make sure to keep you away from the public that day,” Steve says running a hand through Eddie’s curls before tracing it down the scar on his cheek in a way he thought no one would be able to do - lovingly.

Eddie leans down and gives Steve a quick peck. “I’ve also got some scars on my hips I might want you to check out.”

Steve laughs loudly and pulls him into a kiss that truly makes Eddie breathless, all while tracing his hand over the scar on his cheek. And for the first time, Eddie learns to love the scars adorning his body.

[marasmadness]

Only Need You For The Oxytocin- Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

CW: season 17 section chief Emily💋, stripper!reader, erm not everything Emily does is very legal but let us all close our eyes for the time being, interrogation, enemies to less than enemies. everybody is very flirty in government buildings where they should not be! handcuffs, smut, rough sex, power dynamics (dom!emily), bondage, thigh riding, light degradation, oral sex (em receiving), choking, semi public sex

Rossi tapped his fingers against the windowsill of an interrogation room, turning to face Emily beside him. “Some of the most psychopathic men have sat in the room and started to squirm after thirty minutes. She’s been sitting in there for two hours, unphased.

“She’s not a man,” Emily mumbled, watching the woman on the other side of the glass with squinted eyes. ”I’m going to talk to her.” Emily perked up, finally growing impatient. Grabbing her jacket off the chair behind her, she slipped it on, knowing that Rossi had already turned down the thermostat in there.

"Prentiss, wait, we already drew up a profile. We won’t get anything out of her. She’ll just try to play with you.”

“Let her,’ she replied, leaving Rossi with a half-open mouth as she dipped inside the interrogation room, shutting the door behind her.

“Oh, you’re a new one.” You smiled at the older woman who had finally walked into the room, alluding to the three other agents who had entered hours ago and quickly left. “Shame, Agent Jareau and I were having a grand old time. You could be fun too,” you commented, eyeing her up and down as she introduced herself.

Emily cleared her throat, choosing to ignore your comments. “I’m SSA Emily Prentiss with the BAU. Do you know why you’re here today?”

You tilted your head, feigning confusion. “Because your team wanted to have a little chit chat?”

“Bullshit, you’re too smart for this. You know why you’re here.” Ignoring the chair across from you, she opted to sit against the edge of the table. I’ve already talked to just about everyone else in your club and every other one in the city, for that matter, and they all came to one conclusion. If I needed information, you would have it. She explained calmly yet sternly as she swept her arm toward the door.

You sighed as you rested your tilted head on your palms. “You speak like this is an expectation from me, yet your men dragged me in from the parking lot on the way out of my shift and didn’t tell me anything until I was sitting in your interrogation room, like I’m the one running around committing crimes,” you said pointedly. “And don’t think I didn’t realize your old friend out there was lowering the thermostat, thinking it would get me to tell you whatever you wanted; I’m barely wearing any fucking clothes; of course I’d notice when it drops a few degrees.”

A sense of unease flashed across Emily’s face as she felt slightly guilty. She had come in headstrong, and you were right, without knowing how you ended up here in the first place. She was still standing in a room across from you, who was already on edge, so instead of rewinding, she doubled down. “So now what? You’re not going to give us the information we need to stop a serial killer because you’re offended,” she scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest.

You just stared, watching the woman. She wore a gold watch, its face sitting on her inner wrist, which clinked against her belt buckle lightly every time she dropped her hands to her side. Underneath a long red coat that you desperately wished to be under right now, her outfit was sleek and simple: black pants, thin gold jewelry, and a black blouse with newly undone buttons. Your eyes froze on her shirt, your lips pressing into a smile."Really? Two hours of you and your team of profilers brainstorming, and the best you could come up with was that I would spit out all my information if you sent a woman twice my age in to what exactly, seduce me?” Emily looked caught off guard, and you tipped your head toward her chest. “You’re wearing three fewer buttons than when I watched you walk by this room earlier when Luke left, and a fresh coat of lipgloss.”

Emily held up her hand, leaning in closer over the table. "Okay, I get it—not the correct strategy.”

“No, you had my weaknesses spot on; just use them in a bar or a date, not an interrogation room. I’m not that gullible.” You smirked, enjoying watching Emily’s panic level rise, and then her eyes narrowed as a giggle escaped you.

Emily finally took the seat across from you, resting her forehead in her palm. “You’re giving me a headache.”

She heard you shuffle, reaching underneath the table, and eventually looked up when you tossed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in front of her. She suddenly snapped up in attention. Where did you get those?”

You shrugged, picking one up. “I had them on me.”

“They didn’t search you when you came in?”

You shook your head, going to light one until Emily snatched in from between your fingers. “Stand up,” she directed, dragging two fingers upward through the air as she made her way around the table. You heard her mumble something under her breath, unable to distinguish any of it other than something about doing everything herself around here.

Her hands slid delicately down your sides and along the side seams of your clothes. She hesitated at the sensation of her hands brushing against your bare waist. Clearing her throat, she removed her hands. “Moving on, I need the list of Claire Demont’s regulars; I know she handed the list down to you.”

“I don't feel entirely obligated to help you. Claire has done a lot for me. Men have done a lot of shitty stuff to her. I’m not saying murder is ever the answer, but I don’t doubt that there's a reason for her rage. Can I go home now? Last time I checked, I wasn’t guilty of anything.” You stretched back over the metal frame of the chair, waking up your stiff muscles.

“No yet, but we do have a 24-hour hold because my team is under the very strong impression that you have information regarding the case.” Emily began to trail off upon seeing your disinterested demeanor and knew she wouldn’t be getting through to you. “Look, I can’t get you out of here; the best I can offer you is that we talk in my office instead, but I better be leaving with the list of names, no exceptions, got it?”

“Fine,” you got up slowly, demonstrating restraint to hide your eagerness. Before you could breathe deeply about your new slight ounce of freedom, the agent’s hands were enclosed around both your wrists, swiftly moving them behind your back. A short gasp of shock left your lips as you recognized the cold metal rings that clicked around your wrist. “I thought you said I was under arrest,” you muttered, irritated.

Emily’s chin hovered just above your shoulder as she whispered slowly in your ear, “You’re not; that was just for my entertainment.” A soft chuckle escaped her as she pulled away. Looping her fingers around the chain connecting your wrists, she tugged lightly, directing you toward the door.

Emily stepped outside much more composedly than you when you came face-to-face with three security guards outside the room. Emily knew they would be the only ones left in the building; no other agents remained, and they did not alarm her.

You heard a soft noise from over your shoulder, something you couldn’t make out but clearly Emily had. Turning your head, you found a man’s eyes roaming down your skin, almost greedily. Within seconds, Emily had dropped her coat off her shoulders and draped it over your shoulders. Pulling it closed around you, it hung down almost your entire body. Without a comment, her hand naturally fell down by her badge, and she gave a soft nod as she passed by the remaining guards, giving them no reason to question her authority.

Your heart rate sped up the farther you made it down the hallway; its loud beating suddenly became very evident beneath your chest. Peeking a glance over at Emily, she seemed collected and undeterred as she led the way to her office.

Stepping into her office, you immediately opened your mouth to speak. Before you could get a word out, Emily’s hand was over your mouth as you were pressed up against the wall beside her door as she locked it and pulled down the blinds. She eventually dropped her hand, narrowing the space between you slightly with the tilt of her head. “You’re not very good at this, are you?” She smirked before reaching over your waist to undo the cuffs, then looped them back around her belt. “Sit down,” She tossed her hand out across the office as her eyes scanned the rows of shelves lining the back of the room. You took a seat on the edge of her desk, right across from her chair. She pivoted around on her heel, setting a pen and piece of paper next to you. “Names,” she said, tapping the blank sheet with her nail.

You sighed under your breath but picked up the pen anyway, twirling it in between your fingers. Emily slid herself between her chair and your legs, dangling off her desk, before sitting back. ”Just so you know, I never knew all of Claire’s clients. When she left, she only gave me a handful of regulars' names to pass on to me.”

“That’s fine. The more she interacted with them, or the bigger impression she made on them, the more likely these men were to be targets. Do you know if she slept with any of them?”

“No, she never slept with clients, and despite contrary belief, neither did I,” you clarified, narrowing your eyes into a warning glare.

“I never said that,” Emily corrected, her voice remaining low and even throughout every interaction. “Sometimes it's just helpful to know because a man’s sex life can often tell you a lot about him.”

“If that's the information you need, you don’t need a profiler to find that out. You just need a little attention to things other than the physical act of sex.” You flipped the piece of paper in your lap around so the names were facing Emily as your pen rolled down the list. “These three are married and always want to give up control. They crave attention from the dancers but don’t do anything to draw it to themselves. They don’t demand anything; they want you to come to them. And the next handful of names have been single almost their entire lives. Most of them are possessive, and they want to spend the most time with you. They’ll tell you exactly what they want from you. Those men are typically the ones who will pay for a lap dance or two.”

Emily looked up at you, curious and slightly impressed. “You can tell me all that from a few minutes of interaction?” She asked skeptically. Your eyes skipped to the slight movements of her body, her thighs tensing against the tight fabric of her pants, and her ringer fingers closing against her palms as they rested at her side.

“Almost always, it's quite straightforward to discern if a partner is going to be possessive, controlling, desperate, or possessive.” You selected your words carefully, letting them hang in the silence between the two of you almost tauntingly.

Clearing her throat, Emily shook her head softly, causing a strand of silver hair to fall from her shoulder. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

Without thinking, you slipped off her desk with languid movements, finding yourself hovering over her with knees on each side of her body. You leaned away from her, back arching, so you were suspended over the air in front of her. Within seconds, Emily’s hands grasped at your hips, pulling you farther into the chair. It wasn’t an act of politeness to keep you from falling; it was lust-filled, her bruising grip not lessening or pulling away like two strangers should. Lifting your fingers, you brushed the collar of her shirt out of the way, pressing two fingers to the warm skin beneath her collar bone. Smirking, you felt her skin pulsing against you rapidly—the telltale sound of her racing heart. Tucking her fallen hair behind her ear, you whispered softly and sweetly. “ Just proved it.”

You lifted yourself off of her, starting to climb back down, before her firm grip pulled you forcefully back onto her lap. Her hands slid up her back, fingers playing with the zipper that held your top together teasingly. “Ah, finish what you started, doll.” She positioned you how she wanted to, her thigh between your legs with your hands draped over her shoulders. Her nails trailed down your legs, leaving light red scratches as she tore through your thin fishnet stockings.

Her lips latched to the side of your neck, sucking bruises of red and bluish hues down to your collarbone. Her sudden tightening grip made you suck in a gasp midway through ridding her of her own shirt. “Ride.” With one hand on your waist and the other clinging to the curve of your ass, she started the rocking motion. She flexed her toned thigh, holding you roughly down on her thigh, so every slight movement initiated by her stimulated your clit through the thin fabric between you.

The fact that your breathing was already breaking into stuttered sharp inhales simply from riding her thigh had your face burning. In an attempt to hide the fact, you buried your face against her shoulder, turning away from her unwavering gaze.

She brought your rocking to a halt, stopping to rest a hand on the base of your neck until you had to pull back upright to breathe deeply enough for the stars in your vision to disappear. “Eyes on me,” she corrected without additional comment before continuing her motions.

Sensing you were close to falling apart for her, she tugged your panties to the side, pressing the pad of her thumb to your clit. “Fuck,’ you trembled against her strong frame. The older woman’s eyes suddenly darted over your shoulder, and she quickly brought her hand from between your legs up to your mouth, pushing two fingers coated in your arousal past your lips.Sensing a noise behind you, your eyes widened in fear, realizing she had given you her fingers to keep you quiet.

There was a knock on the door, and Emily didn’t appear to be as alarmed as she should be, in your opinion. “Get under my desk and stay quiet.” She husked directly in your ear, nudging you down onto your knees in front of her, and she called out. “Come in,”

Anderson entered, swiping his badge to unlock the door. “Hey, Agent Prentiss. I just noticed your light was still on and wanted to make sure everything was okay. It’s getting late.”

“I’m good, Anderson, thanks.” She smiled softly as she thanked him. Her eyes fell coolly to the papers you had scattered across her desk from sitting on it. “I’m just finishing up some case files. I’m a bit behind at the moment.” Emily shuffled forward in her chair in an attempt to hide you if Anderson stepped any closer.

Sensing that he seemed to want to linger for a moment, you reached towards Emily’s zipper, her belt already on the floor beside you from your flurry of undressing earlier. Her hands engulfed your wrists, but after a minute of protesting, she had to lift her hand back up to avoid looking like she was fighting something under the table. The opportunity for payback was being handed to you on a silver platter.

Her voice spiked up an octave as her legs clenched over your ears. Unperturbed, your tongue traced along her slit as she kept up with Anderson’s casual conversation about work and what she did when she wasn’t at the office. Her hands dropped lightly into her lap and beneath the view of her desk, but unbeknownst to the man rambling to her, she had her hands gripping at your hair, tugging harshly as your tongue swirled around her clit. She resisted the urge to look down just briefly to catch a glimpse of her arousal smeared across your mouth, hair mussed from her touch.

You picked up your pace as you heard Ansderson start moving back toward the door, which left Emily’s legs quivering as she climbed toward an orgasm with every lap and flick of your tongue. The second the door was locked behind the security guard, Emily’s hands found the back of your head, nudging your mouth into her cunt. “Fuck, you better let me come on your mouth after that little stunt, sweetheart.”

You grinned up at her from the floor, a mischievous look in your eyes as you delved back into her cunt, wrapping your lips around her clit as she moaned while orgasming on your tongue. She panted as she came back down from her high, slouching back into her chair and spreading her legs. She helped you up off the floor, fixing you up before yourself.

In the middle of it all, you picked up a pink sticky note and pen off her desk, scribbling something down. Emily’s eyes narrowed as you held out the sheet. “What is this? You were supposed to give me all the names already.”

“I did,” you said, rolling your eyes at her assumption. "This is the club address, and when I work, Stop by sometime; you do still owe me an orgasm,” you pointed out with a grin.”

“Mhm,” her eyes widened at your boldness as she held one knuckle to her lip, hiding her soft, sly grin. ”Well, I risked my job because you're a desperate little thing, so I think you owe me about three. I thought you didn’t sleep with clients.”

You shrugged and started heading for the door. “Well, there's a first time for everything, or maybe I’m just making an exception for you,’ you teased," she said, pivoting around to return her coat on her arm that you had forgotten about for a brief second.

She gave you a small head tilt. “Keep it; I’ll see you shortly anyways,’ she suggested, and you just dropped your head slightly, smiling on your way out.

"Have a good night, Agent Prentiss.”

[01zfan]

wusyaname | s. es

eunseok x reader | 6.3k words

uhm inspired by that tiktok that was like eunseok is the person you see on your trip and then never see him again….made it with a little twist.

warnings: cheating, the reader is engaged (NOT to eunseok)

eunseok had seen you before. he knew even from looking at the back of your head that you were familiar—like a face he had seen everyday on his trip. 

he first saw you because he always struggled with going to sleep in places he wasn’t familiar with. he liked having the temperature set a certain way and he liked being able to smell himself on the covers. but here, the sheets were changed everyday and the thermostat automatically set itself to freezing temperatures.

eunseok thrashed in his bed the first night, trying to beat away the jet lag and the unfamiliarity of a new place so he could get a decent nights rest. eunseok turned to see sungchan sleeping on the other side of the room soundly. he thought about the itinerary his sleeping friend made, how the plan was to begin at the break of dawn and not stop until well into the night. eunseok was sure that his friend was trying to kill him. 

he looked at the time on his phone and groaned inwardly, turning to face the ceiling. he couldn’t stop thinking about the morning, how he was going to be dead to the world wandering through the streets of amsterdam with sungchan. he put his groggy mind to work to find a solution, and it wasn’t long before eunseok found out there was a convenience store nearby. when eunseok remembered the directions he moved to the search engine on his phone next, asking what the energy drink selection was like in amsterdam. 

when he started walking down to the narrow hallway that would take him outside, eunseok heard you first. he heard you yelling, muffled slightly by the closed door of the building. he paused for a moment, debating on if he should go back to his room and tough out the night and the morning. eunseok was introverted in that way, sometimes he found himself going to great lengths to avoid human interaction. but when he only heard your voice yelling he continued slowly down the hallway to assess the situation. when he got closer to the door he heard you clearly, and he saw you through the clear glass of the window sitting on the steps with your knees pulled to your chest. he saw the back of your head first, how you had it tilted and occasionally shook it. eunseok saw your hands next, how one held a cigarette in the air and the other held a phone to your ear. he smelled the fumes from your cigarette melding with the spring air when he opened the door. 

“—and you won’t fucking believe what he told me.” you said into the phone.

before you could finish your tirade, you turned to face eunseok. he was caught off guard by the confusion on your face, like you were almost amazed someone else was awake at this time. he was confused too, how you dropped all of your focus on the call to turn to him. he thought he saw your gaze soften for a moment before you went right back to the frown, turning your head to continue your conversation. 

eunseok couldn’t even offer you a shy hello or tight-lipped smile before you were back on your phone. the only thing you did to acknowledge his presence was that you lowered your voice and started blowing your smoke clouds away from the door. eunseok let no time pass before he cleared his throat and began heading down the short flight of stairs. he tried his best to look forward at the brick road, not paying attention to the way you waved your hands to convey your frustration into the phone. he saw ash from the end of your cigarette fall onto the ground, and he felt your gaze on him as you started only murmuring responses instead of yelling into the receiver.

eunseok did the same thing when he came back from the store with his energy drink and candy bar. you still sat on the steps outside the hotel only this time your phone rested beside you on the stone stairs. eunseok no longer saw you speak and he no longer saw the fire in your eyes—all he saw was a blank stare forward as you moved like a robot in front of him. you had a new cigarette now, the ash hanging heavy on the end as you brought it to your lips in a repeated motion. you moved the lighter in your hand constantly, alternating between spinning it on your fingers and squeezing it in your palm. neither of you spoke or offered eachother a second glance as he cleared the stairs to go back into the hotel.

you two had unknowingly created a routine. eunseok would go about his day being tourist with his friends but at night he would feel himself craving a run to the convenience store the same time you would be outside on the stoop smoking a cigarette. each time he would leave and see you on the phone, talking about something regarding this ever-frustrating him. eunseok had no idea who he was, all he knew was that he was the subject of all your phone calls and seemingly all your problems. eunseok concluded that he was also the reason you would end each night staring forward while mindlessly inhaling your cigarette.

the only difference now was that instead of your hands holding a cigarette they were wedged into the sand, and instead of looking forward to brick buildings eunseok saw you looking towards the water. he followed your gaze from where he stood and he couldn’t see anything but the pitch black water and foamy bubbles that came from the crashing waves. eunseok looked behind him towards the cabana. the party he assumed you were supposed to be a part of went on without you. he continued to stare at you sitting on the beach, alone in your loose pretty dress that blew in the wind. his feet dug into the sand as he considered approaching you, getting ready to turn on his heel to head back to the hotel. he felt out of place without his energy drink and candy bar and not seeing you blow out smoke clouds. when he heard you sniffle and saw your shoulders shake he couldn’t stop himself.

“you look different without a cigarette in your hand.” he called out.

eunseok got you to turn away from the black water to look at him. he could see the last bit of your tear tracks before you wiped them away. the confused look in your eyes lasted for a moment as you searched his face, trying to remember why he looked so familiar. when you recognized him eunseok saw you frown before turning back to the water.

“that’s really the first thing you’re ever gonna say to me?” you pull your hand from the sand to scratch the back of your neck. he sees the ring on your finger before you press it back into the sand. “also you scared the hell out of me.” you say.

eunseok drags his feet in the sand towards you as he apologizes. when you hear him get closer you turn towards him again, and you pull your hand from the sand to rest is on the surface. eunseok assumes you’re trying to put the wedding ring on display for him, but it doesn’t stop him as he gets closer. 

“sorry.” he apologizes again.

“all good.” eunseok sees the moonlight cast on your face as you turn again to look up at him. “you look different without a shitty candy bar and an energy drink.”

eunseok sits down in the sand next to you, stretching out his legs far. he sees you shake you head and you begin laughing.

“like seriously, who buys an energy drink that late?” you say.

eunseok puts his hands up defensively, smiling when he heard you chuckle.

“jet lag.” eunseok puts his hand on top of the sand next to yours “and my friend likes to do stuff really early in the morning.” he says.

“why aren’t you with your friend now?” you asked

eunseok shrugs his shoulder, letting his hand drift a little more towards you. he smiles again when he feels your eyes focus on his creeping hand.

“early sleeper.” eunseok looks to you, bringing your attention from his hand to his eyes. “i like to have time alone at night.” he says.

“yet you’re here talking to me?” you ask, keeping eye contact.

“i’m just sticking to our routine.” eunseok dusts off the sand on his hands just to put his down even closer to yours. “i’ve seen you every night so far.”

with your head tilted you looked eunseok up and down. you started from his blonde hair that blew in the wind down to his hand that was dangerously close to yours. you swayed from side to side, and eunseok could see a smile on your face that only got bigger the longer you looked at him.

“i’m very much engaged, you know.” you hold up your hand to eunseok’s face, making sure he has to make eye contact with the band on your ring finger. “soon to be very much married.” you say.

even saying the world felt unnatural. it stayed on the tip of your tongue a beat too long, only being pushed past your lips when you realized you had to say it.

you put up with all the problems of the trip because you heard being married was nice. you heard marriage one of the few sacred things left in life, a promise between two people. but each argument, each compromise, every mishap made you believe it wasn’t worth it anymore. you had narrowly avoided the reality of being married to such an extent you realized that was your first time ever saying it. 

with the weight of your sentence sinking in, you looked back to the sea. you let your arms rest on your knees, your hand with your ring dangling in the space between you and eunseok. he turned forward too—both of you let the sound of water crashing against water fill the silence.

“do you love him?” eunseok still faced the sea as he spoke.

“of course.” you say it without hesitation, as if that will make it anymore convincing.

“how much?” he asked.

you turned away from the dark waves, head resting on your arms. you looked at eunseok for a moment, how kissable his lips looked. he was almost like a dream in front of you as if the light ocean breeze was going to blow him away. you think about how he would look underneath the artificial light of your hotel room.

“i’m saving it for my vows.” you said smiling.

you looked back to see the party that goes on without you. bad luck followed you all day—you could even say it followed you this entire trip. you believed you could handle it, but as time went on it only got worse. situations you usually would’ve been able to approach with a level head only gave you a migraine. you were barely able to escape the situation of your sloppy drunk fiance at the cabana without going over the edge. you remembered looking into his bleary eyes that were hooded from all the alcohol. he confessed to you that everything was just for appearances, that his “love” for you was simply transactional. he told you through slurred words about his true love, how he wouldn’t stop seeing her despite the ring on his finger. you couldn’t be mad, infidelity in a loveless marriage was bound to happen. but it didn’t make the words hurt any less.

you thought nightly calls with your friend back home would make everything bearable. but there was something in the air tonight that had been building up since you landed. something weighed over you like a dark cloud—maybe it was the truth of your future setting in. maybe it was the broken heels that sat next to you in the sand. maybe it was your makeup that felt heavy like a mask on your face or your broken nails. maybe it was the cheap decorations in the cabana and the music that was mixed terribly. you don’t know what it was but suddenly you wished you brought the secret pack of cigarettes that was tucked away in your suitcase. a bad habit you picked up and planned to kick just in time for your wedding. you saw it as your last act of rebellion, a way to fight back against the appearances even if you hated the smell and didn’t have a taste for nicotine.

you looked to the stranger next to you, watching his hair blow in the salty wind. this was admittedly the closest you had ever been to someone in a long time. even before eunseok shuffled a little closer to you a quick flash of panic made your hand clench. you forgot what to do when someone was so close. you were sure that he could smell the sadness on you, your desperation for human interaction.

your shoulders almost touched, his hand less than an extended arms length away from you. maybe he could be your lifeline instead of the poisonous cigarettes in your hotel room. he could be the thing you pretend didn’t happen when you go back home and live the rest of your life. it seemed like a sign from god himself to have the only person who has seen you smoke appear before you the one time you didn’t have a cigarette wedged between your fingers. you didn’t believe in fate because it was intrinsically connected to true love, but what were the odds that the man beside you that had constantly seen you at your lowest the whole week was touching your shoulder and so close to touching your hand?

you dragged your hand through the sand, slowly like the tide that was coming in. you let your hand with your ring rest over eunseoks’. you continued looking forward, scared he was going to pull his stiff hand from underneath yours at any moment. he kept it there, even spreading his fingers so yours could fit in the gaps.

“the hotel is really close to here.” you said to the sea.

“is it now?” he turned towards the sea too while intertwining his fingers with yours. “my name is eunseok by the way.” he said.

“nice to meet you, eunseok.” he nodded to your greeting, and you leaned to the side until your shoulders touched. “do you always flirt with vulnerable women when you go on vacation?” you teased.

“do you always invite strangers back to your hotel at your engagement party?” he asks.

eunseok thinks he went too far when he sees you stand up from the sand. his smirk fades and he gets ready to apologize, but instead of walking away you start dusting the sand from your flowing dress. eunseok helps, patting away any sand he sees. you turn around and look down at him, and eunseok swears he can hear the waves crashing a little harder and the wind pulls your dress a little more. you smooth your dress out to no avail, and reach out your other hand to eunseok. he takes your hand and pulls himself up with ease, wiping off the sand harder than he did off your body.

“my heels broke.” you say, holding up the pair for proof.

eunseok crouches down and without a word motions for you to get on his back. you don’t hesitate, putting your hands on his shoulder while you leg wraps around his waist. he hoists you up and holds you there, rearranging your body until he holds you securely. your broken heels dangle from your hands as eunseok passes by the cabana to held back to the hotel. 

you hold onto eunseok’s shoulders a little tighter, scared that someone would notice you. with your cheek pressed to his back you two walk past the party. nobody notices you, not bothered to look away from their drinks or their conversations. eunseok says nothing, but you can feel him pull in a breathe. when you see your husband you turn your head, facing away from him as sand embedded into your cheek presses against eunseok’s clothed back.

eunseok carried you on his back the whole way to the hotel. your chin went to resting on his shoulder, watching your broken heels dangle in your hand like a pendulum. you listened to his steps on the brick roads not saying a word. when eunseok didn’t speak either you felt yourself wanting to hear his voice. by the time you got to the front of your hotel you would’ve answered his prying questions if it meant he’d keep talking to you. you could tell he was holding questions at the beach, probably too nervous to even ask you for your name. 

eunseok didn’t speak again until he made it inside the elevator. he adjusted his hands underneath your thigh as he looked to the buttons to each floor.

“which one?” he asked quietly.

you pointed your sandy foot to the top floor, and you could see eunseok’s lips form an “o” before pressing the button.

you got down from his back when you two exited the elevator and you looked down both sides of the hallway trying to remember which way to go. when you remembered your placement you looked back to eunseok. he was stiff, standing completely still. he looked to you confused at your sudden expression. 

before he could ask you where to go you lifted your dress and ran the same way you did when you left your party—the only difference now was that you were laughing instead of crying, and when you looked behind you someone was coming after you. eunseok closed the distance behind you fast, laughing as you both made you way down the long corridor. you were able to get far enough ahead of him that you held your keycard to the door and unlocked it, leaving it open just wide enough for a panting eunseok to enter through the crack. 

you were still catching your breath when you sat on the edge of your neatly made bed, dropping your heels to the ground beside your planted feet. the light in your entryway was still on, making the shadow of eunseok taking off his shoes project onto your wall. when the adrenaline of running wore off, you began nervously flexing your feet. eunseok was taking so long to come into your line of sight that you started feeling the individual grains of sand between your toes.

when he finally came around the corner eunseok stood still by the wall. he looked at you sitting on the edge of the bed, hands pressed into the mattress beside you. he could feel his nerves hang like static over his body when he couldn’t look you in the eye. he let his gaze wander down to the ring on your finger, focusing on the gold band and how it caught the light.

“where are you from?” he asked absentmindely.

eunseok watched you ball up your fist so your ring was hidden. his attention was brought back to your face when you shook your head.

“i don’t think it’s a good idea for me to tell you that.” you said.

even if he wanted to know more, eunseok still nodded. he didn’t have it in him to pry, he barely had it in him to stand in front of you now. all he could think about was the possibility of your husband coming in, or sungchan calling for him asking where he was. you seemed to notice, because you leaned back on the bed until only your elbows propped you up.

“he’s usually out all night.” eunseok couldn’t pull away from your eyes once he caught them. “do you want to come over here?” you said, motioning to the part of the bed beside you.

eunseok nodded, clearing the space to sit next to you on the bed. he left no space between your shoulders, coming so close you almost felt the need to shift away. he pressed the hand between your two bodies onto the mattress behind you, and used his other hand to turn your face. when you kept eye contact, eunseok looked across your face for some sort of sign. 

“you can kiss me.” you said, nodding.

eunseok closed his eyes and began leaning in, pressing his dry lips to yours.

when eunseok began moving his lips against yours you turned to the gentle tide that rise on the beach. like water you melded into his touch, so closely it felt like you were becoming one. you moved your own hand to eunseok’s face, almost gripping him in efforts to bring him closer. eunseok leaned into his hand that was behind you to go deeper into you, pushing a timid tongue into your mouth. you accepted a little too quickly, lowering your jaw so you could do the same. you had forgotten what it felt like to make out with someone so intensely—you felt like a teenager again, bringing a boy into your home and trying to do everything you could before you were busted.

with your eyes closed it was almost easy to forget about your situation. in the world you saw behind your closed eyelids you were not committing the countless moral wrongdoings. but when you opened your eyes you reluctantly remembered your current situation. the repercussions didn’t stop you from kissing eunseok with a force that matched his fervor, and it didn’t stop you from moaning into his mouth either. it only made you more desperate—you put your hand over his and slowly guided it down your body as you raised one of your legs until your foot was resting on the edge of the bed.

with the silent permission to touch more of you, eunseok was slow with it. he ignored your hand that pushed his downwards and took his time squeezing your chest. he even grabbed your arm to hold it, seeing how much he could fit in his hand. you had given up trying to get him to speed up as your hand went to his pants. eunseok didn’t try to slow your hand down even as if fumbled with the button on his shorts. eunseok lifted his hips enough for you to push the waistband of his shorts far enough for you to wrap your hand around his length.

when he got to your leg eunseok slowly started dragging his hand up to your knee. he didn’t waste the time to pull your dress up, instead going underneath the fabric to get to you as fast as possible. with your hand pumping his dick he was already getting desperate, your slow languid movements made eunseok hiss and sigh into your mouth. you worked your way up to his tip, squeezing and then repeating the motion. he pressed into your underwear, and you fisted his shirt in your free hand. eunseok did that for a moment, just rubbing you over your panties until slick started seeping through. he could feel the fabric dampening underneath the pads of your fingers, and you pulled completely away from his lips to rest your head on his shoulder. 

you refused to look at eunseok, focusing on his arm that was half gone underneath your dress. the parts of his arm that were left uncovered moved in tandem with his fingers against your heat. you could feel him find you easily, rubbing circles and occasionally reaching down your folds. you would’ve liked to last longer, to atleast have some sort of upper hand in this situation. but your fiance rarely kissed your cheek and you could hear eunseok above you sighing from your ministrations. you would’ve loved to hear him get louder, to almost beg you to speed up your hand. but your need for more made you pump eunseok’s dick a little faster and to squeeze him a little tighter. his hand that was behind you on the bed reached around your waist to pull you closer. 

“do you have a condom?” he whispered into your hair. 

you nodded and pulled away from eunseok to clamber further onto the bed. he did the same while pushing his pants and underwear all the way off as you grabbed your purse resting on the nightstand. you ruffled through your densely packed bag until you felt the familiar packet of the condom brush against your finger. you handed it to an already naked eunseok. your eyes widened as you took in the parts of his body you hadn’t seen. you scanned over his whole body in an instant, ending on the view of his hard dick resting against his lower stomach.

“sorry.” eunseok took the condom from your hand. “i’m just not sure how much time we have.” he reasoned.

you shook your head, reaching to the end of your dress to pull it over your head. 

“i understand.” you said.

when your dress was completely off, eunseok had the condom fully on. you watched his hands slowly pump his dick, and it was his turn to look at you with wide eyes. even with the lewdness of it all he still looked at you softly, head tilting to the side as he waited for you to make another move. when you reached behind your back to try and undo your bra eunseok crawled clower to you on the bed. his hands went to your body instead as he peered over your back, finding out how exactly to undo the clasp.

“lemme help.” eunseok said, hands already going to your bra straps.

you nodded against his neck as he undid it on the first try, shivering from his breath fanning your neck and your nipples that were becoming exposed to the cold air of your room. you shifted from your spot on the bed and you already felt vulnerable. you couldn’t remember the last time someone had seen you like this, your mind even drew blanks trying to remember the last time you were naked in front of your fiance. eunseok’s hands went to your shoulders, trying to soothe them enough to go down to a relaxed position. he didn’t take his eyes off of you as he cleared his throat, looking down to the pllows that were placed in the center of the bed.

“i can be on top? if that’s alright with you?” eunseok offered.

“okay.” you nodded, but motioned to the covers underneath your body. “i’m cold.” you said.

even though your body felt like it was on fire underneath eunseok’s fingertips, he nodded anyway. as you were lowering your body to become situated on the bed, eunseok gently pulled the sheets from under your body to pull them over you both.

when you were fully on the bed you adjusted to find a comfortable spot on the pillows. you spread your legs getting ready for eunseok to slot himself between them but instead of hovering over you eunseok moved to one side of you, hands going underneath the waistband of your panties. he watched you, pulling the covers down slightly as he slowly dragged your panties down your body. he kept the same gruelling speed, making your underwear catch on your skin and your knees as you lifted your legs up. when they were discarded over the edge where eunseok’s clothes were he came between your legs, and you spread them further to give him enough room. he pulled the covers up his back, and you felt the warmth from your bodies become trapped in the small space.

seeing eunseok look down at you made you forget everything. every thought, every word you could’ve said, everything you could’ve done completely left your mind as you stared up at him. for a moment the only thing you could hear were waves crashing on the beach, the sound of your hands digging into the sand as the water creeped up closer to your feet. when eunseok started lowering his head down to meet yours you swore you could feel the water lap at your feet. 

when he kissed you again, your hands went to his arm that was propped beside your head. as badly as you wanted to hold hands with a stranger, you settled for digging your fingers into his bicep, eunseok didn’t mind, your gut even told you he liked it. he pulled away from your lips to look down between your two bodies and you followed his gaze. you saw eunseok’s hard dick bobbing in the space as he inched closer to your pussy. you felt anticipation prickle as you bent your knees, spreading your legs even further. eunseok brought his body down to press against yours. you drew in a breath when you felt his tip prod at your entrance.

“tell me if it hurts and i’ll stop, okay?” eunseok says.

you bring him closer by your hands that press into your back. you keep him in the crook of your neck, hoping to save the last bit of dignity you know you’re going to lose soon. 

eunseok’s hand that was propped beside your head fists your hair, and he draws in his own breath as he slowly sinks into you. when you seize around his tip and he can’t push any deeper, he kisses the skin of your neck.

“you gotta relax.” he hisses.

you pathetically nod your head like he can see it.

“i’m trying.” you shift your hips, the change in the angle causes you and eunseok to both hiss. “i’m sorry.” you apologize. 

eunseok shakes his head against yours, kissing your clammy skin again.

“don’t apologize.” he says.

eunseok pulls himself out of you with a sigh and he moves to the side to free up a hand. you think that eunseok is getting ready to pull away completely, but you feel his hand lightly graze down your skin. you keep your eyes on his hand, even after they go underneath the tent your bodies make in the covers.

when eunseok presses a gentle hand to your clit you jump in place and pull in a tiny tense breath. he looks down too but looks to you quickly when he feels how stiff you became.

just try to breathe.” eunseok says.

his eyes stay locked on your face and you turn your head to turn and relieve the stress of him looking at you. eunseok keeps the burning gaze on your features, watching to see how you’ll react. when you nod your head his fingers go lower, and when he presses into your slit you sigh quietly. when you open your eyes you see his smile and you feel him slowly push his fingers inside of you.

“i’ll take care of you.” eunseok pulls his fingers out and pushes them back in. you can feel yourself already relaxing to take him in. “just relax.” he assures.

you nod pitifully, letting your body relax again. when eunseok speeds up his fingers you get lightheaded, and when he adds a third you start nodding your head to encourage him. eunseok is fully leaned on his side as he fucks you with his fingers, alternating between your face and underneath the covers. his eyes get wider looking at you, and his hair slightly shakes each time he moves. you get that churning in your stomach you haven’t felt at the hands of someone else in so long and you quickly clutch eunseok’s shoulder. he stops immediately, looking at you curiously while he scissors his fingers inside of you.

“i’m ready.” you whimper.

eunseok nods pulling his fingers from your heat. you can see him hesitate with his hand, he brings it dangerously close to his lips and you instinctually shake your head rapidly.

“sorry.” he chuckles.

eunseok goes back to resting on both his forearms, hovering over your body. he comes close to the same position he was in before and beings his lips to your ear. you can feel his breath fanning your already hot skin and you can feel his tip prod your entrance. eunseok and you both take a deep breath at the same time you feel him sink inside of you. even with the prep you feel yourself seizing around him the same way you did before. his wet hand grabs your side, a gentle grip to try and get you to ease up.

“fuck. just try to relax.” eunseok says quietly into your ear.

although eunseok tries to remain steady for you, the grunts and shaky breaths give him away. you can tell he is struggling to stay with you, and you begin trying to match his deep inhales in efforts to relax your body. when you both feel it working eunseok pushes in a little deeper and holds onto you a little tighter. you two repeat the process, silently falling into another routine.

when eunseok was fully inside, you both let out sighs of relief. he draws his hips back and with a grunt he pushes back in, and his hand that held your side goes to your legs to guide them around his waist.

with eunseok buried deep inside of you, kissing on the skin of your neck that hadn’t been touched in so long you felt complete. you were completely connected to the man above you, the two of you moving in complete harmony. when he pulled all the way out your hips tried to follow him, and when he held his breath you did the same. 

the moment was fleeting, gone as quickly as it came like the foam from crashing waves. but when he pulled away from the crook in your neck and pressed his forehead to yours as he pushed into you again, you couldn’t stop it.

“i love you.” you breathed.

as soon as you said it both of you froze. instantly you felt the atmosphere of the room change, eunseok’s eyes went wide as his hips stilled as your lips parted in shock. you froze the same way he did, the hands you had pressed to eunseok’s back went beside you as you squirmed underneath him.

“i’m sorry.” you apologized again.

eunseok shook his head, and his hands that were pressed into the bed beside your head reached down to grab your hands.

“it’s okay.” eunseok held your hand tighter, pressing your clasped hands in the mattress as he drew his hips back again. he kept eye contact with you this time, watching your face contort in pleasure as you took every inch of him. he dropped his head back into the crook of you neck, making sure you could feel his smile against your skin when he was completely inside of you. “save it for your vows.” he said.

eunseok had participated in one night stands before. he had done the heated makeout sessions in the corner of dark bars, and the quickies in the back of cars. if knew he was well versed in the world of intimacy and sex with strangers, so he had no idea why he felt everything with you so deeply. maybe he was more of an empath than he thought, or maybe there was something more he couldn’t quite put his finger on. maybe he would be able to talk to you about it after everything—maybe he’d find out you felt the same. the motivation to talk to you drove eunseok to put his hand underneath your thigh, bringing your leg up until your knee almost touched your chest. he hit deep inside of you, each slow thrust causing your body to move a little further up the bed. one of your hands planted onto the headboard and the other fisted the sheets. eunseok suddenly remembered time was fleeting as you seized around him again.

“i’m leaving tomorrow.” he grunted.

eunseok saw your eyes dart from where your two bodies met to find his eyes. he could see the downward shift in your eyebrows, and the pout on your lips made eunseok think you were close to crying. you nodded your head, squeezing your eyes shut when eunseok hit that spot deep inside of you again.

“that’s okay.” you said, voice whiny and high-pitched. you put your hand over eunseok’s on your leg, nodding again. “that’s okay.” you repeated.

eunseok looked at you under him, eyes bleary and red. he pressed his hand deeper into your thigh and the covers slipped past his shoulders revealing more of your body that you almost seemed to try and keep hidden. eunseok couldn’t stop himself from thinking about your life when he saw the panic flash across your face. he knew he had no right to, and he also knew all of his assumptions about you could’ve been completely untrue. but you seemed to have a life many would be envious of. there was no way you were poor, judging by the designer dresses, the expensive perfume, and the ring on your finger—at the very least your future husband was well off. you had a big family and a group of friends who traveled to your destination engagement party. you didn’t seem to have a bad life by any means, but the way you clung to eunseok made him believe there was something in your life you were lacking. it was deeper than the riches and maybe it had something to do with the fact that you were missing from your party for god knows how long and still no one has tried to contact you. eunseok didn’t know if you’d choose love, or whatever you felt for him over the comfortable life you were going to soon lead, and it wasn’t his job to, either. all he knew was that right now you were choosing him, and the sounds falling from your lips were getting louder and more desperate. so he grabbed your hand and guided it to your clit as he started thrusting into your heat at a faster pace.

“you’re close.” eunseok huffed.

your hand didn’t start rubbing revolutions on your clit, instead you used your free hand to run it along eunseok’s toned stomach, holding tight to his tricep as you nodded your head.

“so close.” you sighed.

eunseok looked down to his dick disappearing in your cunt at a faster pace. both of you were shuddering messes, you pulled at eunseok’s body to bring his chest close to yours. he obliged, pressing his sweaty body against yours as his hand tangled in your hair. he held your body in place as his thrusts turned into hard ruts. he felt your own hand pull at his scalp as you started moaning his name against his ear.

“eunseok. kiss me.” you pleaded.

eunseok pulled his head from the crook of your neck to rest his sweaty forehead against yours. he saw the fresh tear tracks wet underneath your eye, you even sniffled before craning your neck up to kiss him. he felt his emotions of his own swell behind his eyes as he closed the difference between your lips. 

it was a messy kiss, your teeth clashed and eunseok could taste the smoke and pina colada on your tongue as you settled deeper into him. eunseok’s hand pulled at your scalp, his arm next to your head keeping you in the perfect spot as he pressed deeper into your lips. the spark was undeniable, heating both of your bodies as the covers uncovered more and more of you both. neither of you could speak, only breaking this kiss when your moans filled the high ceilings of your hotel room. when eunseok had to stop moving his hips you kept going, selfishly flicking your hips upwards to prolong the feeling of extreme closeness—you didn’t know when you’d feel like this again. eunseok lets you be selfish, peppering kisses along your face even when his sensitivity from his orgasm shifted to almost pain. 

when he couldn’t take it anymore he pressed his hand to your hip bone, pushing you into the mattress and ceasing your movements. you huffed in defiance but didn’t fight back, settling for the feeling of his softening dick still inside of you.

after everything, eunseok settled his weight on top of you. even if you felt like you were being crushed, you welcomed it. the comfort of losing your breath to someone being so close to you gave you reprieve from the other suffocating things in your life. you wanted to cling to his shoulders to hold him in place when you felt him slide out of you. 

eunseok rolled to lay beside you in a huff, giving you one last kiss to the side of your cheek. both of your chests raised and lowered, you felt cold as the air conditioning unit cut on again. you felt a lone tear glide down your face and you quickly swiped it away.

“sorry.” you apologized while bringing your hand to your other eye to remove any traces of tears.

you could hear the man beside you shake his head against the sheets, trying to help ease your discomfort.

“it’s okay.” you could hear him turn on his side to face you. “it’s gonna be okay.” he assured.

the way he said it almost made you really believe it.

you turned on your side to face him. you looked deep into his eyes, trying to remember the way he looked at you. you would not see him again after today, your own packed bags lined up neatly in the corner. you didn’t know if you’d get the chance to ever feel something like this, so tender and delicate. when you pulled your hand that was tucked underneath your head to move his hair out of the way he grabbed your wrist gently, kissing the back of your hand. you smiled from the gesture, letting him kiss your hand all over. when he was done he let your hand rest on his cheek, and you stroked his skin, trying to memorize the texture underneath your fingertips. he smiled and closed his eyes for a moment, opening them with a playful glint in his eye.

“is now a good time to ask you for your name?” he laughed.

[kitashousewife]

sakusa yawns as he opens the front door to your shared home. he’s been gone for five days. five days of games, practices, clinics, trainings, and travel. he hasn’t had a second to himself and he hasn’t slept well at all.

“welcome home kiyoomi,” you smile with your arms out wide, and he comes crashing into you. he holds you close, ignoring the scattering of his belongings on the floor for now.

“did you have fun?” you mumble into his chest and he shakes his head.

“too long,” he yawns once more and you chuckle.

sakusa has decided he cannot live without you.

“is that so?” you pull away and ignore his rather emphasized pout, opting to grab his bags instead. “do you want something to eat?”

“m’good,” his words are mumbled as he slips off his jacket and shoes. “ate on the plane.”

you nod and shut the lights off in the kitchen while sakusa locks the door. he then begins to follow you as you walk through the house like a puppy. shuffling behind you while you set the thermostat, padding down the hallway while you separate his clothes into the laundry piles for the next day, and stopping once he finally enters the bedroom.

“do you want any tea?”

“not thirsty,” he grabs some pajamas from the closet gently as his limbs are feeling heavier by the minute.

to someone on the outside, sakusa would seem cold and distant in moments like these. but you know better than anyone that he’s exhausted. normally after short trips, sakusa can hardly get a breath in as he tells you everything he did while he was gone. this trip in particular was especially grueling though, and his body is feeling the effects.

you can tell in the look in his eyes, how he pulls you close and strokes your back, how he follows you around without a word just to be close to you that he loves you more than word could say right now.

“i’m sure you’re sore, i could run you a bath? i just got more of those bath salts at the store today that you like,” you grab a towel for him and hop up on the kitchen counter. he comes to stand in between your legs, resting his head on your shoulders.

“not tonight, too tired. a shower would be good,” his eyes are closed as he speaks, messy curls falling every which way over his forehead. you brush them back before planting a kiss to his lips and slip off the counter.

“you’re in luck, i picked up that body wash we liked from the store today. it was finally in stock,” the shower flicks on and you adjust the temperature for him, just how he likes.

“oh, thank you,” he throws his laundry into the hamper. and slips inside the shower just as steam fills the bathroom in warm embrace.

you leave him to it and fill your time with things to make his night a little easier. you plug in his charger for him, set his freshly cleaned and filled up water bottle on his nightstand, and put his bags away. by the time you slip into bed, sakusa walks out of the bathroom with pajamas on, hair dripping wet, and very tired eyes.

“god i missed our bed,” sakusa sighs as he nestles in behind you and pulls you close. “thanks for putting everything away,” he kisses your head. you turn around to face him and wrap yourself around his torso. he chuckles. “someone miss me?”

“a little,” your cheek is pressed up against his chest while your arms wrap around his torso, legs intertwined. “sounds like a rough trip.”

sakusa scoffs. “absolutely ridiculous. nothing professional about any aspect of it,” he huffs, and even though the room is pitch black you can sense his eyeroll. “i’ll tell you more about it in the morning though, i’m so tired i can’t think straight,”

“get some sleep omi,” your voice is a whisper as your body finds comfort in your lovers embrace at last. his eyes are heavy and his breathing becomes deeper in a matter of seconds.

typically, sakusa tells you multiple times how much he loves you before the two of you even shut your eyes, and once or twice more as he begins to fall asleep. but tonight there wasn’t a peep between either of you.

the two of you fall asleep, tangled together under the blankets and immersed in the safety of each other after five long days.

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Let It Snow

Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Summary: When the power goes out at the Facility, Pietro makes sure you’re keeping warm.

Note: Takes place in an “Everybody is alive and lives at the Avengers Facility” AU. Wanted to kick out one more Christmas/Winter imagine before getting into the New Year’s stuff.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 1.5k

Reader Is: Gender Neutral, an Avenger.

To be honest, you didn’t notice it at first, the slight chill in the air. You continued your work, typing away on the loud, typewriter-style keyboard on the fancy, expensive computer Bruce had built for you (with Tony’s money, of course).

And then it got…worse.

Your toes were numb and you were shivering, despite the long sleeves you were wearing.

You slid your feet into some slippers and walked out into the hallway, arms huddled around yourself as you wandered from your room, down the hall to where the thermostat was. You gave the up button a cursory press, waiting for the screen to blink to life and tell you what it was set to, but it didn’t.

Huh. Well, that was something, wasn’t it?

“(Y/N). Hello.” Vision materialized beside you, causing you to jolt in shock. “My apologies, I did not mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine, Vision. Do you know what this is all about?” You asked, shivering and motioning to the busted thermostat.

“It appears the furnace is broken. Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner are attempting repairs now, but it may take quite some time.”

“Oh. Gotcha.” You nodded, “Thanks for the info.”

“Of course. I do recommend you bundle up. It seems your body temperature is steadily decreasing.”

“Will do.” You saluted and pivoted on your heel, just in time to catch a face full of Pietro as he sped down the hall, sliding to a stop.

You ever so gracefully fell on the floor, staring up at him, disgruntled. “Nice one, Sonic.”

He chuckled, offering a hand, but you got up on your own, dusting yourself off. “What is the problem?”

“Furnace is busted.” You explained, patting his arm as you began walking away.

Pietro started walking backwards, keeping pace with you. “Where are you going?”

“To get into something warmer. Might be a while.”

One of his eyebrows quirked up. “Well, you know, I’ve heard skin to skin contact is the fastest way to warm up, if you need some help with that. I do have ‘improved homeostasis,’ as Banner puts it.”

“I’m good, thanks.” You deadpanned, shutting your door in his face. You could feel him lingering there for a moment before running back down the hall to his room, you presumed. You chuckled and rolled your eyes. Pietro was a flirt. Always had been. But things like this never worked out with people like him. Not in your experience, at least.

You changed into a cozy, zip-up onesie, feeling a lot warmer than before, especially with the hood over your head. You got back to your tying for a while. A few hours at least…until the lights went out.

“Great!” You threw your hands up, rolling away from the desk in your dark room.

In a huff, you stood up and walked to your window. It was a blizzard out there, inches and inches of snow on the ground. There was a knock on the door and whirled around to answer it. Part of you expected it to be Pietro standing there, but instead, it was Steve with a flashlight.

“Oh, hey. Is this because of the blizzard?”

“No, Tony says he snipped the wrong wire.” Steve shook his head. “Or something. Might be a while before it gets fixed.”

It was already getting late, and you were planning on going to sleep soon, but now, you weren’t so sure you should if you didn’t want to wake up a popsicle. “Okay, thanks for letting me know.”

You said, turning back to grab your phone and your water bottle to refill it before you figured out exactly what it was you should do in the meantime.

***

About an hour later, Pietro found you on the couch in the living room, shivering and reading a book by the light of a tiny, battery powered reading light. You were bundled up and, due to the lack of windows, you were pretty sure it was the warmest room in the facility. But as the temperature continued to drop, it didn’t seem to matter where you were.

“(Y/N), what are you doing in here?” He said, concern etched deep into his accented words. You met his eyes, wrought with worry and only offered a shaking shrug.

“I don’t want to g-go to sleep until the h-heat comes back on.”

He shook his head, crossing the room slowly for once, taking his time with each step. He sat beside you, not even bundled up beyond a hoodie and some sweatpants. For the first time in your life, you envied his powers. Carefully, giving you every opportunity to shove him off of you, he gently lifted your blanket, guided your book to the coffee table, and crawled on top of you, settling his body atop yours and sandwiching you between himself and the couch. He pulled the blanket back on top of the both of you, adjusting his head into the crook of your neck.

You were stiff at first, but at his warmth, you all but melted, eyes closing in bliss, your arms relaxing around him as you chased that feeling. His warmth. His scent, that sharp, woodsy cologne he was so infatuated with.

“Is this alright?” He asked, voice low and raspy.

You nodded, relaxing further into his hold, letting him warm you up. You pulled him closer, relishing in the feeling of your shivers slowly stopping. “Pietro…”

“I won’t say anything. The others don’t have to know.” He assured you, meeting your eyes before settling down again.

“I’m not too worried about that.” You whispered, suddenly overcome by it all. His proximity, his voice, the way his body felt melded against yours. It was right, what they said. Fitting like puzzle pieces.

“You’re not?” He asked, mischief at the edge of his tone. “Who are you and what have you done with (Y/N)?”

You scoffed. “You know, contrary to popular belief, I don’t dislike you, Pietro.”

“I don’t dislike you either.” He replied with a chuckle. “Kind of the opposite, in fact.”

Your heart picked up a quicker rhythm, cheeks flushing. You were kind of thankful the two of you were cuddled up in the dark. You hoped nightvision wasn’t one of his secret powers, or you were sure you’d never see the end of it.

“Please say something.” He murmured at the silence.

“You…”

“I thought it was obvious.” He muttered, words quick, flat at the edges.

You let another moment pass, choosing your words.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to—”

You touched his face with a cold hand, guiding his chin so you could attempt to look him in the eyes in the silvery rays of light streaming in the window. “I like you, too.”

He grinned, breath catching in his throat. “You mean it?”

“I have for a while.” You confessed. “Since that first training session when you bulldozed me on the track.”

“I did not bulldoze you!”

“I don’t know, I felt pretty bulldozed, laying there, flat on my back, feet knocked out from under me.”

He chuckled. “I was trying to impress you.”

“Mission accomplished.” You laughed at the way frustration crept into his words. “I could never forget about it. My very first week on the team and already, someone was out to get me.”

“Oh my God.” He rolled his eyes, the words sounding unsure on his tongue. He shook his head, gaze softening as he reached up, a careful hand brushing the hair out of your face. “Are you warmer now, drága?”

“Much.” You nodded, brushing the tip of your nose against his. “I do have another idea for warming up, though…”

He smirked. “Such as?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Please do.”

You rolled your eyes, and looped an arm around his neck, tugging him down to you and crushing your lips to his. He hummed in agreement, calloused fingers hooking your jaw, keeping you close as his kissed you tenderly, passionately, lips soft and perfect and experienced. He was the perfect distraction from the freezing room around you.

Then, suddenly, there was a loud thrum and the power kicked back on, bathing the room in light. You squinted, the appliances in the kitchen all beeping as they came back to life.

Pietro shielded his eyes with a hand, still hovering over you. You stared up at him for a long, quiet moment, still not entirely sure it had happened until he dipped back down and pressed a long kiss to your cheek, his stubble tickling your skin.

“Now let’s get you to bed, hmm?” He asked, helping you off of the couch as the facility gradually warmed back up. The two of you walked down the hall together and you yawned.

“What were you two doing down there?” Bucky asked, standing in his doorway. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“I was just letting (Y/N) know the heat was back on.” Pietro shrugged. “I am the quickest, you know.”

“Uh-huh. Right.” Bucky nodded, suspicious, but backing away into his room anyway.

You got to your door and stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Pietro. His hand grabbed at your waist, tugging you in for a kiss that you gladly returned. When you parted, you watched him speed down the hall, hoping that when you woke, it wouldn’t all be some sweet, winter dream.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

After All This Time

Pairing: CEO!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: none

Summary: Car trouble puts you and your boss in an awkward position, especially when you two have so much history together.

Squares Filled: car trouble (2020) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

It’s a straight shot from your house to your job. Instead of taking the main roads and confronting traffic, you take the back roads which takes an extra ten minutes, but you make up for that with your speed. The windows are down, your hair is blowing in the wind, and your music is on full blast. You pass the halfway point when the thermostat goes from the neutral position to the big bolded H. Smoke immediately starters pouring out of the engine, and you slam on your breaks to prevent the car from blowing up.

“Shit! No, please don’t do this to me,” you beg to no one.

You get out of the car and pull your hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of your face while you inspect the damage. You pull the hood up and a cloud of smoke bellows in your face. You quickly turn and cough violently.

“No, no, no, this isn’t happening now,” you gasp. “Not today of all days.”

You don’t have time to wait for an Uber or Triple A, so the only other thing you can do is walk to work… in heels… on a dirt road. The time it will take to walk to work will be the same time or more waiting for an Uber or Triple A. Not only are you going to be late for work but you’ll have to apologize to your boss about it. Normally, that wouldn’t bother you but your boss just so happens to be your high school boyfriend.

Steve was the perfect boyfriend. He treated you with respect, didn’t undermine your values, supported you through everything, and loved you unconditionally. Everyone in school thought you two would be together forever and there was a point where you thought that, too. Right before graduation, you got an incredible opportunity to go to a different country and do a study abroad in Russia.

Steve got into Harvard for business and wanted you to go with him. You two applied for Harvard and you both got in, but you really wanted to go to Russia to study for a semester. To spare the sad details, you two broke up. It was one of the most difficult things you have ever done because you were still in love with him.

After coming back to the States, he was already in another relationship with someone. You never thought your story would end the way it did but you forced yourself to move on. For years, you thought you did. You had a few boyfriends but none of them had an impact the way Steve did.

Then one day, you got an amazing offer to work for Captain Industries as a sales director for the entire sales department. One of the job duties as a sales director is to report everything to the CEO, and luck had it that Steve was the CEO. You often had meetings with the different department directors who touch base with Steve so he knows what’s going on with his company.

The first day on the job, you and Steve locked eyes in the first meeting of the day. It had been years since you two have spoken much less seen each other, so you didn't want to make a big deal in front of everyone. You thought he would have said something after the meeting but he left like you didn’t mean a damn thing to him. Maybe he didn’t remember you, but how can someone forget the person who was their first for everything--first kiss, first date, first time you two held hands, first time you had sex, and the first time you ever gave anyone a promise ring. He was the love of your life but maybe you weren't his as much as he was yours.

When you finally reach work, you immediately head to the bathroom to fix yourself up. You must look like a sweaty mess, and your reflection confirms it. Despite the headache forming from how high your ponytail is, you keep your hair up. If you were to put it down, you’ll look worse. You look at the time and curse when you realize just how late you are for your morning meeting.

Forty-five fucking minutes. Steve is going to chew your ass out. You leave the bathroom and interrupt the morning meeting with an embarrassed look on your face. Everyone turns to look at you including Steve. He looks at your hair before locking eyes with you. Time seems to slow down the longer he looks into your eyes but you break eye contact.

“Sorry I’m late. Car trouble,” you mutter.

You quickly take a seat, and the director of marketing slides her notes over to you. You look at her gratefully and look over the notes just as the meeting resumes.

“As I was saying,” Steve says, peeling his eyes from you, “statistics show a slight decline in demand for products. Frank, have you hired two more manufacturing engineers?”

“Yes, we’re training them right now. We have been working hard creating more product.”

“Good. Y/N, how is your department doing?”

You snap your head up to look at Steve and sit up a bit straighter.

“We lost Marissa since she went on maternity leave but we won’t let that stop us from not picking up the slack. Her duties have been spread out throughout the different managers to give to their employees. I have seen a rise in sales by ten percent.”

“Make it twenty.”

“Yes, sir.”

Meetings only last an hour since Steve is so busy so the next fifteen minutes go by easily. Jules lets you keep her notes to look over and copy if needed. Most people filter out immediately but you’re one of the last ones in so you can apologize to Steve directly.

“Listen, Steve, I’m sorry for being late. My car stalled on the side of the road on the way to work. I had to walk the entire way here.”

“I need your reports on my desk by the end of the day.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

He must not be over your breakup because this isn’t the Steve you knew. You gather your things and head to your office. You almost cry from how stressed you are because you still have to deal with your car. Not to mention your headache is getting worse and you don’t have a brush to fix your hair.

It takes all day to work on the reports for Steve so you’re one of the last ones in the office even though you still have two more hours until the end of the work day. You could leave since you’re salaried but you need to make up time for being late. You walk to his office and knock once on the door, entering when he gives you permission.

“I have the reports for you.” You walk over to his desk and place them there but you don’t leave just yet. “Again, I’m sorry for being late.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. It happens.” Steve looks up and sees you squeeze your eyes tightly from the headache you have. “Come here.”

Steve stands when you approach him, and he gently takes the elastic out of your hair. He threads all ten fingers into your hair and starts massaging the area, and you close your eyes in relief. You open your eyes and look at Steve to see him already looking at you, and he sees the question in your eyes.

“High ponytails give you headaches.”

You’re shocked he remembered that. You were on multiple sports teams in high school and instead of putting your hair in a ponytail like the rest of the girls, you put it in a tight bun at the base of your neck.

“You remembered,” you whisper.

“There’s a lot I still remember.” Steve takes his hands away but doesn’t step back from you. “Go to my personal conference room and take a nap on the couch. You’re overworking yourself.”

“Steve--”

“I don’t want to hear it. Go take a nap and then I’ll drive you home. I’ll pick you up and drive you home until your car is fixed.”

He must not be in a relationship if he’s offering to do this for you. You’re not sure how you feel about that--scratch that you do know how you feel but you’re not sure if he feels the same about it. You slowly walk to the door but pause before you can leave the room. You look at Steve who is already typing away on his computer.

“Now, Y/N,” he says without looking up.

You jump and immediately leave with a smile on your face. The time for you and Steve wasn’t right back then but there’s nothing stopping you from making it right now.

x

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[daengtokki]

Warm

Kim Seungmin/Female Reader

wc: 2.5k

rating: fluff/explicit/18+ (contains oral sex) ಇ

contains: domestic idol!Seungmin — oneshot written as a continuation of Blind Date! ૮ฅ・ﻌ・აฅ

✩彡

The room is cold. The two blankets you have tucked up over your head aren’t doing very much at all. You could get out of bed and turn the thermostat up, but that would require leaving this nest that you worked so hard to warm up.

It can’t possibly be morning though, so why are you awake? It feels like night still. It feels dark and cold and very very quiet.

You run your hand across the chilly sheet and feel for a body. Seungmin’s body. He’s not there. Why wouldn’t he be there? Now you’re forced to peek out and investigate. The room is pitch black, curtain closed tight, tv turned off (you distinctly remember falling asleep with it still on).

But the door is cracked, just a little bit. The faintest glow is coming through, and you can tell right away that it’s coming from the kitchen, possibly the living room.

You yell out his name, but it comes out like a feeble, sleepy groan. Shit, I’ll have to get up.

You try yelling again. This time it echoes through the room, but you’re not sure it made it through the crack in the door and into the kitchen. He doesn’t answer.

Slowly you sit up, keeping one of the blankets wrapped tight around your shoulders and chest. You swing your legs up and over the side of the bed and search the floor for a pair of slippers. None.

The bedroom is carpeted, but nothing else in the house is. Touching your feet down here is no big deal, so you tiptoe to the dresser and pull out a pair of his socks. It takes some work to get into them, seeing as how your joints are frozen, but you manage.

Now to find Seungmin. He doesn’t mind the cold as much as you do, but he can’t be enjoying this.

The floor creaks as you cross the hallway. It’s definitely one of the kitchen light glowing, but the living room is lit up now as well. He’s standing by the kitchen sink, electric kettle in one hand, the other stuffed into his hoodie pocket.

“Minnie!”

He jumps, spilling water hot water onto the counter. “Fuck!”

“Sorry.” You shuffle closer to him, “I yelled for you, twice.”

“Why are you being so sneaky?!”

“I yelled for you!” You whisper it this time. “Why is it so cold? Why are you up?”

“The heat won’t kick on.” He finished pouring hot water into his mug. “And I woke up…couldn’t get back to sleep. Do you want some?”

You look into the mug as he stirs his hot chocolate, “yes please…you know, this never happened at my old apartment.”

“Your old apartment was always a thousand degrees.

“Yeah, that’s true.”

He gets into the cupboard again and pulls out your mug. “Pick one.” He gives you two different hot chocolate options. You choose the mocha one.

“My body knew you weren’t there.”

“That’s cute.”

“I know,” you walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. He’s still pretty warm. “Are you coming back to bed?”

He mmhmm’s you and hands you your mug, “we will worry about the heat tomorrow, I guess.”

“Good.”

——

You set your mug on the bedside table and crawl back into your chilly pile of blankets. Seungmin finds the tv remote first and clicks it back on before doing the same. The glow in the room makes it feel a little warmer; the hot chocolate helps a little, too.

“Your legs are cold.” He pulls you a little closer when you wrap yourself around him. “Pants would probably help.”

“Yours are warm.”

“You’re gonna suck all of the warm out of me.”

“That’s usually the plan.” You bury your face against his side and relax. He yawns and pushes himself a little further under the covers. It’s comfortable. And it’s warm.

“Seungmin?”

He lets out a soft yeah. It’s almost a whisper, and it sends a little chill down your back. You almost forget what you were going to say.

“I’m not very tired anymore.”

“You just have to get warm again.” He rubs his hand in circles over your back, but that just wakes you up even more. “Close your eyes.”

Instead of closing your eyes, your fingers find the hem of his hoodie and make their way underneath. You can hear his reaction in your head before he even notices what you’re doing.

He flinches and you can feel his stomach flex under your cold palm, “no no no!” His sets his hand over yours on top of the fabric and kicks his feet, but you have him trapped. “You’re so mean.”

You pull your hand back out and push yourself up on the bed a little, just until you’re face to face with him. He’s smiling—you kiss around his mouth until he closes his lips for you. But you only peck them once before moving along his jaw and to his neck.

“Oh, you’re really not tired.”

“Are you? I can stop.” You climb on top of him anyway and work your way across his throat—at least where you can get to with his clothes still in the way.

“I’m good.”

You shove both hands under his hoodie and slowly move your palms up either side of him. His hips shift under you; stomach tightens, a little sound escapes his lips.

“Your hands are so cold,” he laughs and brings you in closer, pulling the blanket up over your shoulders at the same time. “Come here.”

You latch onto his mouth again and kiss hard until he relaxes into his mound of pillows. One of your hands move down from his ribs and along the outside of his waist and hip, kneading gently until you get a handful of thigh. He jumps a bit— he’s ticklish— but settles back immediately when you soften your touch.

He makes more room for you between his legs. You take the opportunity to slide your open palm to his inner thigh and underneath his shorts. Seungmin moans into your mouth when you touch him, and then giggles, “just take them off, please don’t tease me.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” You can’t tease him the way he teases you, you’re too impatient for that. “I mean, I will…” you sit up on your knees and look at him. The blanket slips from your back and piles up behind you, “…take them off,” you finish your thought as you look down at his legs spread open in front of you.

He’s propped up on his elbows, looking down at himself, and then at you. You reach behind for the blanket and throw it over your head, and then disappear under it.

“So I don’t get to wa—” he stops abruptly and laughs. “Oh, be gentle please.”

“I always am,” your voice is muffled between him and the thick blanket. You pull gently at the waistband of his shorts until they come down just a bit, showing more soft skin. You place a kiss there and Seungmin flinches and you can see him hard and twitching beneath the fabric already.

“That’s teasing.”

You sush into his stomach and wrap your hand around him, still keeping his shorts on. He bucks his hips up again, this time much harder, so your hand slides smoothly over him. When he settles back on the bed, you pull down the fabric until the head of his cock peeks out. You put your lips on him and listen carefully for any little sound he might make.

He doesn’t disappoint. His groan comes out husky, and his stomach sucks in as he keeps himself steady. Your tongue slides up and over, and then down the length of him, getting him as wet as possible.

Just as you’re working him as far into your mouth as you can manage, you feel a cold burst of air. You don’t let it distract you, but as you slowly come back up, you sneak a look at him, and he’s smiling down at you. You can just make him out in the glow of the tv.

“That’s much better,” he says it in almost a whisper, “do it again.”

You don’t look at him, but you listen. His cock disappears completely in your mouth again. You hold him in as long as you can manage, and right before you slowly release him, you feel his hand brush the side of your face.

Now you lock eyes as you slide him out, making a mess of spit as you go. His mouth hangs open a little and one corner of his mouth twitches into a grin. You take him fully in your mouth once more before wrapping your fingers around him.

Seungmin lays back and sighs, enjoying the steady grip of your hand and the warmth of your mouth. You listen to the little hitches in his breath as you speed up—slow down—speed up a little more.

Suddenly his hand is on the back of your neck. You didn’t notice him sit up again. Now he’s looking down on you, gripping you tight but letting you keep your own pace.

You moan when he hits the back of your throat, and he holds you there.

“Do you like that?” He speaks softly, still kneading into your neck, but gently, and with just enough pressure to keep you there.

Another moan to answer him. Your eyes start to water, and you pull him in a little deeper even though you know you shouldn’t. You need to come up for air.

He senses it and softens his grip on you, runs his hand down your back until he can reach the hem of your sweatshirt, and pulls it up. The tips of his fingers tickle as he slowly moves them over your skin, and you have no choice but to release him. You put your hands to work so you can catch your breath.

“That’s good,” he wipes at your messy lower lip with his thumb and holds your gaze as you stroke him. His eyes flutter closed and he bites down on his lip to try and stifle a groan, but it comes out like a desperate mmm instead. He laughs at himself before looking down at you again.

“It must be,” you get up on your knees and pull him closer with your free hand so you can kiss him, but all you manage is a few bites at his lower lip. He grabs your hips and pushes you down hard on the blankets.

Just for a moment, you remember the coldness in the room, but Seungmin is on top of you before it matters. He kisses at your neck and pulls at the collar to get to more skin. His hands reach under your sweatshirt and fingers brush over hard nipples, but doesn’t attempt to pull it off of you. In fact, he pulls it back down over your stomach as he kisses further and further down.

“You’re still cold,” he laughs and hooks his fingers in the band of your underwear, slides then down your legs and discards them. Then his hoodie comes off— also thrown to the floor, before he leans forward and sucks at the skin on your inner thigh.

This he does for an achingly long time, because he’s much more patient than you, and so much of his pleasure comes from the wait. Even when you whine his name, he acts like he doesn’t hear—just keeps kissing and licking at his own pace.

Eventually though, he does give in. His hands slide roughly over your thighs and he pushes them even further apart. You feel his warm breath on you first, then his mouth. The contrast of the cold room and the heat of his tongue gives you goosebumps all over.

You know he’s holding himself back, but it’s still enough to get a whimper out of you. He moans back in response, and then the heat is gone. When you peek down at him, he’s looking back, mouth hovering inches above you.

“Minnie…”

“Yeeaaah?”

He goes back down and kisses your thigh again.

“Stop”

“I did”

“You’re a jerk”

“I know,” he closes his mouth over you and runs his tongue up until he hits your clit. His lips close around it and he licks gently until you push your hips into his face. You can feel his teeth graze lightly against you, and it makes you shudder.

You push into him again and reach down to run your fingers into his hair. He lets out a gravelly moan and you feel the vibration run through you, but he holds you down to keep you from moving.

Lips close tight around your clit again so he can suck. You can hear the little kissing noises he deliberately makes every time he releases you and latches back on again. It’s too much, and you feel yourself getting close to coming. You were already halfway there before he pushed you back onto the bed.

He stops again—makes his way back to your thighs—sits up again and looks at you, gives you his best cute, innocent smirk. It would be innocent, if it wasn’t for the wet mess all over his lips and chin. He dives back down and teases…uses the tip of his tongue to just barely touch you. It sends little sparks of pleasure through you, but it’s not enough. He knows that.

You tug his hair again. It gets his mouth moving. He licks and kisses, and you have to focus on not coming yet, because you want it to last so much longer. He adjusts himself for better leverage, and two fingers slide in easily, reaching and pushing at just the right spot. He presses and licks hard, like he’s trying to make his tongue and fingers meet.

Seungmin looks up at you, lips tight around your clit. You can’t hold it off anymore. It rises again, slowly. You’re warm all over, your thighs start to shake despite his grip on them. A smile lights up in his eyes when you buck your hips to his mouth. You let yourself cry out, a mix of fuck and oh god and Minnie fills the room.

He lightens his touch and flicks his tongue across you until your hips lift and you cry out again, loud enough to echo through the room. The release lasts longer than you expect, and he doesn’t slow down until your moans turn into steady, heavy breaths.

But when you settle, he keeps eating, unable to get enough. You reach for his hair and pull again, because now you’re too sensitive and his mouth is too much.

He stops, gives you a moment, then slides his tongue over you once more, just to see your body shake again.

“Minnie,” you breath out, this time a little more coherent. He’s kissing his way up your stomach, but you hear his little hmm? from under your sweatshirt. “Come here.”

You gently tug at him until he pops out and looks at you with sleepy eyes.

He plants a loud kiss under your jaw. “Yes?”

“I wasn’t finished with you.”

“No, that finished me,” he laughs into your ear and tucks his arms underneath you. “Now I’m tired.”

“And cold.”

Seungmin lifts and drops you down on the pillows before pulling the blankets up to his neck. He folds himself around you, pulls you tight against him, and places a kiss on top of your head.

[junedenim]

everything is romantic

an island getaway

warnings: smut, fluffy fluff, blowjob, eating out, & the p goes in the v

word count: 6.6k

"Get off the computer!" Alex yelled from the other room.

"I'm not on my computer!" You yell back as you continue to type on your computer. 

The air was hot in the rented house. Alex had spent the past 20 minutes trying to figure out how to turn on the AC that the lessor advertised the place as having but had remained to be found. You weren't supposed to be working. That had been part of the rules set but it felt like emails hardly qualified in that category. You could easily be getting an email from your mother so is there really a difference, even if you are answering an email from your boss?

"Get off the computer!" His voice was nearer this time, closer to the bedroom, but still in the hallway.

"Shush!" You sound back.

You hear his feet padding into the room and you don't try to hide what you're doing. You both knew what you were doing. "What do I see here? You're on your computer."

You momentarily pause to turn around in your chair to look at him. A trickle of sweat lines him, which doesn't help cool you down by any means. His hair is messed about meaning he definitely did not find the thermostat and was pulling his hair out over not finding the thermostat. "I'm just emailing Coco and then I'll be done." Coco, your insufferable boss. You didn't mind her, you quite liked her compared to previous bosses. Alex hated her guts. You might as well have been handcuffed to your laptop these past months.

"Why didn't you just ask Coco to come with us if you were going to email her the whole time?"

He's annoyed. You're a bit annoyed too but responding to an email is nothing, especially since you weren't planning to do anything today anyway. To Alex, doing nothing today was kind of the point. 

You roll your eyes and turn back to the laptop. Alex moves closer, he leans his arms down onto the desk, trapping you in your seat. His mouth slides up against your ear. "No emails."

"Just this one. Okay?" You promise. Well, lie.

"I don't believe you." He kisses your neck. It's slow and teasing. He's messing with you—creating an itch that needs to be scratched. He itches his way down. "You're not even out of your airport clothes?" You're still dressed in jeans and even Alex has changed into shorts. He kisses your collarbone before reaching down to the ends of the white blouse you're wearing and pulling it up. Your arms block him from taking it off all the way but that doesn't prevent him from squeezing your bra-covered boob.

"Alex, come on," you urge.

His non-boob-squeezing hand reaches around you and shuts the laptop. "It's vacation time." You sigh and give in then. He pushed the cup of her left boob down and started playing with its nipple. It's a weakness. He fiddles with it. You often joke he is trying to turn the volume up by the way he turns it and by the way you moan louder from it. He mouths away at your neck, slowly, teasingly, skillfully going at it.

"Aren't you hot? I'm hot," Alex says. You quickly oblige to what he's hinting at and raise your arms for him to pull off your blouse all the way. He takes his shirt off too, something he probably would have done eventually because of the heat. 

His chest has a sheen of sweat over it that makes you want to lick him. Is that crazy? To picture him as some human popsicle? He is what you need to quench your thirst. The cold beverage in this boiling bungalow. You both want to take a bite of him and watch him melt. You figure he's too tasty to be ignored, so you rush out of your chair and down onto your knees.

The perk of him changing out of his airport outfit and there is no need to work a belt off of him. You're quick in your unbuttoning of his blue Bermuda shorts. You don't bother to push down his shorts or underwear, instead electing to reach into his underwear to grab his cock. You're wrapping your hands around it when he quips, "I'll give you a job to do."

You start giggling at his penis before looking up to see him peering down at you with a chuckle. It makes you laugh more. You duck your head into his lower stomach to hide your laughter. It redistributes it into Alex's body, vibrating its way up his spine. 

His fingers thread through your hair in a shared reassuring matter but also slightly urging you to attend to his hard dick, still in your hand. You lift your head and gaze up at him with a slight remaining giggle before kissing his tip slowly. The remaining smile you have turns him on more and with his hand still in your hair, he pushes the back of your head urging you forward more.

You accept his request and wrap your lips around his cock. You take all of him in, wetting his cock, so you can easily rub your hand up and down. You stare up at him. You like doing it when you're blowing him and he really likes it when you do it. Each time you place him in your mouth, his eyes flutter making you wetter with each blink. When he hits the back of your throat, your eyes close tight before you pop off of him, you open your eyes wide, and bat your lashes. Then, you do it all over again.

His hand tightens and releases around your hair several times with each moan that he can't help but utter. Alex is soft with you, not wanting to hurt you in any way. You gag around his cock and he pulls you off him and wordlessly bends down to kiss you.

He lays you down and follows you down onto the floor. The kisses get heavier as he lies on top of you. His hand grabs the side of your waist and yours are on the back of his head, keeping his lips on yours. 

Alex's hand travels down your side to your right leg. He urges the leg up and you wrap it around his back, pulling him into you. His hard cock rubs against the rough denim material covering your center. 

There's an urgency to this. Foreplay suffers in the need for completion on both of your ends. He unbuttons your jeans and begins to push them down. You break your kiss to help pull them off your legs, your panties following in tow. He lifts himself to pull them off your feet, turning the jeans inside out in the quickest rush to get them off. 

You pull Alex back on top of you at the first sign your jeans are off. Your lips are back on each other like they are attacking one another. You curl your left hand around the back of his neck, toying with the ends of his hair. 

He raises himself, halfway into a plank, and reaches down to line himself up. He enters slowly, just his tip, but you're in the need for haste. You curl your legs around his waist tightly and pull him close to you, therefore having him plunge deep. 

The quick sensation has you slamming your hands onto his back, hugging him down onto you. Alex lets out a deep moan right next to your ear. He bucks into quick, understanding what you both want. You're tight around him and it feels like he is in another world, lost in the feeling of being in you. 

He wasn't sure if it was you squeezing around him or the thought that you were on an island vacation that meant endless amounts of sex for a week. It wasn't a honeymoon, no matter how much your friends kept joking it was. There was a time, deep in childhood innocence, that you thought you would save yourself for marriage, mainly because boys were icky and if you had to do it at some point then your husband would probably be okay for that. You told him all this the first time you were together. Generally, it scared off men to know the women they picked up at a bar was talking about the sex that they would have on their wedding night, but it only endeared Alex to you. The cute way you had laid on your back, the white sheets tangled around you making you look like a bride. Your hair—short back then—scruffed up on the pillow. You talked with your hands, dancing them around the air, and telling a story with just them. Nothing was told in an expected way. 

You had no plans to spend a life with the guy from a bar you hooked up with. Then, he told you about how during the summer before he started secondary school he used to hide under his covers reading encyclopedias because he was nervous he wouldn't be smart enough. He had a buzzcut and laid on his stomach when he talked. He had looked restless at the bar but peaceful beside you. His arms were tucked under his pillow but later on, after all the sex when you were just telling stories, he draped an arm over your stomach. Warmth, Alex had always brought that.

The sex you were having now. This was the sex you dreamt of losing your virginity on your wedding night too. So, if it had to be your "honeymoon" sex then it was well-suited. You felt weak under him, like a shaken leaf from his branches. It sounded vaguely misogynistic when he said it, like you were Eve coming from Adam's rib even though that didn't make much sense because didn't Adam have to have a mother? Don't all children come from their mother's ribs? Alex liked thoughts like this that you had. He called them "sex thoughts" because you'd whisper them to him after the act. Most men would be offended by the thought that the woman they were fucking had the ability to think about Biblical figures during sex. Alex saw it as inspiring you.

He thrust deep, hitting the ridge in the back of you. "Fuck," you muttered. You tended to do that too. The babbling during sex. Your eyes roll back when he hits it again, another "Fuck" drops from your lips.

Then, he's teasing, taking himself out to his tip and then slamming back into you. "Holy fuck." That was always a good sign. 

Alex takes himself to the tip again. He holds himself there too long. You're whiny and desperate and reaching the end, orgasm in sight. You buck your hips up. It causes him to stumble, his elbows bend. His chest lands on you, suffocating you down. His cock deep, his heavy breathing and moans against your ear, his chest to your chest. You wrap your arms around him again and hold him to you. 

You roll your hips up making him moan a "Fuck" of his own. He raises himself up again to thrust deep into you. You stick two fingers into his mouth, tasting of the strawberries you made him stop to pick up on your way to the house. You slink your hand down to the space between his stomach and yours. He could feel the curve of her knuckle moving against him as you touched herself. His pace is getting messier. A clear sign of the impending finish.

"Alex," you whine.

"Yeah," he responds. He knows you're close. You're getting messy too. Your hips keep shuffling around and he tries to pin you with his own to keep you straight. Then, he lets out, "Fuck. I—uh, god, fuck."

He manages to get in a few more pumps, feeling you clench up and squeeze around him before he finally allows himself to release into you. You would throw your head back if it wasn't rested against the floor. Alex buries his in the crook of your neck. Instinctively, you grab a hold of the back of his head, clutching his hair roughly. 

He sinks deeply into you, out of breath, and tired from holding himself up the whole time. You love holding him back, but he's worried about squashing you to death. He pulls himself out of you and lies beside you. You're scattered toys on a child's playroom floor. You feel his cum leaking out of you, something you used to find gross, but now feels weird when he doesn't finish inside you. Sometimes, if it's his birthday or you're trying to cheer him up, you'll let him cum on your tits. He tells you he isn't sure if he enjoys it because you rarely do it or if he actually likes doing it. 

"I didn't even take my bra off." One of your bra cups was pulled down, exposing your boob, and, on the other side, the strap was pulled down, barely hanging onto your body.

"I didn't even take my shorts off." His shorts lay in a tangled blue puddle around his ankles, his underwear hanging an inch off the rest. 

"Well, you had a job to do." You both burst out laughing. The sun leaking through the windows feels nice.

*

Alex tied the knot in the back of your bikini. Why did he tie the knot in the back of your bikini? You're putting sunscreen on. The cream kind all over your arms. He's waiting for you to ask him to do your back. You already did his. Before he even stepped outside. He burns like a tomato and you seem to always get this golden tan that he will admit he'd be jealous of if you didn't look much better with it than he would.

You're talking about the email Coco sent you but he tends to tune out when Coco is mentioned these days and you're dressed in that white bikini. "Can you do my back?" Ding, ding, ding! 

He must look like a lunatic the way he jumps up from his chair to grab the lotion bottle out of your hand. You're not oblivious. Alex has confessed to this turn-on of his when you first started dating and you went to some Malibu beach together. His slowness in rubbing the lotion in made you ask him what was taking so long and he had answered, "I'm savouring it."

Alex is savouring it now. He was bordering on giving you a massage, which you can't complain about as he gives special attention to your shoulders. Then, he's placing kisses on her shoulder.

"I'm not having sex on the beach with you, bunny." Another confessed fantasy.

He whines, "Come on. Isn't that the whole reason why we picked this house? There's nobody here." The house was only a few yards from the beach and you were nervous at night that the tide might sweep the house away. True, you hadn't seen a single person since sitting out on the beach. However, sex on the beach was reserved for cocktails only.

"I thought we picked it for the balconies." That was your fantasy. Too many readings and watchings of Romeo & Juliet. If Alex could climb the pipes up to the balcony, you would cream yourself.

Alex stops his sunscreen rubbing and turns into your eyeline. "No, honey, you picked it for the balconies. I picked it for a week of naked you. Indoor, outdoor, house, ocean, sand, I could go on."

You laugh and shake your head. "I am not having sex in the sand. I'll be finding it up there for months."

"I'll do a good job."

"I don't doubt you would."

You had generally been against public sex ever since one night, early on in dating Alex when you got caught in a club bathroom. Alex was spared any embarrassment, having all his clothes on. You had your bare chest exposed. It had generally been kept in houses since then. Although, you did seem to cover most surfaces. Bed, bedroom floor, kitchen counters, kitchen floor, shower, bathroom counters, you could go on. Never the bathroom floor though, maybe you'll do that here. The bathroom is pretty big.

*

Alex's shirts are your generally preferred vacation outfits. He wasn't much bigger than you but his shirts hung loose and were breezy in the summer air. They made good cover-ups for swimwear. This one, blue and white striped, was your favourite. You wore jean shorts with it and cheap sandals as you strolled into the little town just off the way of the beach.

"I'd like to grow old in a place like this," you say. It's quaint and foreign. A little seaboard town. A place where no one knew them. Alex's fame wasn't much of a problem. You adjusted easily to it once you found out the level of it. Something that had surprised him, though he never told you that. You were young but past the point where you were worrying about zits and fake IDs. Settling down felt far away and close at the same. If Alex wanted to, you would. As long as you got to pick where you lived. 

Alex swings your hands in between you two. You both walk in short steps, taking in each piece of the town. You have a bounce in your step as you cheer about the town. "It seems like a place that would add 10 years onto your life," Alex adds. He had the thought that he was 10 years older than you. Does that mean he'd die first? He'd be fine with that. He thinks you have much more strength than him and could probably survive his death. If you were to die, he'd curl up into a ball in stay there. You'd probably grab martinis with friends after his funeral and he supports that.

"Fountain of youth. Although, isn't that supposed to be in Florida?" You wonder aloud.

"The fountain of youth is definitely not in Florida."

"Aren't I your fountain of youth?" You tease him. You did this often, teasing him over the age gap. It made him uncomfortable early on. Like he was taking advantage of you in some way. It made him feel particularly icky over a dinner where you had said, "Am I your sugar baby or something?" It was a joke but he was caught up in what you thought of him, what others thought of him. You had only been going out for a few weeks, not even officially dating yet. Then, when the check came around that night, you insisted on paying. Then, he felt ridiculous for ever taking your jokes as actual blows against him. They were more often than not just jokes about how old he was, which he could accept (most of the time).

No quip was returned before you dropped his hand and jumped up and down. "Ice cream!" Yeah, there might be a 10-year age difference but even Alex might jump up and down for ice cream. Well, ice cream with you licking the ice cream. He's horny first, human second.

Later, Alex and you sit in the ice cream parlour each equipped with an ice cream cone. The place has a singular small fan going, every 30 seconds you feel a slight gust of wind, which soothes your burning skin. "Ice cream is much better here than in America."

You had an impassioned hatred for America, which he never understood. You were American—well, mostly American—you had lived there your whole life—again mostly—your friends were America—again, again, mostly—you had met each other in America, fucked in America, fell in love in America, lived together in America, and, eventually, moved away from America. He thinks it has something to do with your mother.

He hums in agreement and settles at watching your tongue swish around the ice cream's tip, imagining scenes from earlier this morning. He is already biting into his cone. 

Alex leans closer, up against your ear, whispering, "You want to go to the bathroom?"

You pull back to look him in the face, gifting him an eye roll. "I may be younger than you, Alex, but I was potty-trained."

His hand, resting on the curve of your waist, yanks you toward him. "There's no one in here. No one to walk in."

"Yeah, except the one employee who is going to notice his only two customers go into the bathroom together. We're 5 minutes from the house, if you want to go back and have me suck you off we can do that." The 15-year-old boy at the counter looked harmless and would likely be too afraid to prevent them from doing anything but he would concede that you had a point.

"You're so romantic."

"You're the one who wants me to do you in the bathroom."

*

He watches you in the pool. When you returned to the house, you didn't do each other. With the same enthusiasm that you had for the ice cream, you shed your clothing racing for the pool. Your shirt of his lay at his feet, disappointingly not leading to a naked you. He grabs a fresh towel for you and watches you splash around. Cheering for him to watch, here's my front flip, back flip, handstand, front flip into back flip into handstand.

He watches 5 minutes of this before it becomes repetitive and he turns to the book he brought out to read. The sun shines perfectly on his book and perfectly on you. 

3 pages in something lands at his feet. A wet white bikini top. If this wet white bikini top is at his feet, then where is yours? His gaze moves slowly to the pool. You're acting oblivious, underwater, avoiding his eyes. When you come up, your back is to him. Turn around, turn around, turn around. 

You're slow. You've always been a teaser. His breath is slow, hitched in his throat. He has made a point not to move, not wanting to distract himself with the flick of his own wrist.

Then, suddenly, you turn quickly, slingshot a bunch of white fabric flying toward him. Plop! At his feet again, your swim bottoms. By the time his eyes have lifted from the bunch of clothing, you've already dove back underwater. His eyes trail over the blurry curve of your skinny-dipping body. This is vacation.

You know what you're doing. You come up on the side closest to him, propping your arms up on the pool's edge. Your nude body is completely blocked. Your hair is sleeked back, giving him a detailed drawing of your face that he only quite gets when your hair is wet. Pet back in the shower, sleeked back in the pool.

"What are we having for dinner?" You smirk at him. A siren. 

"Whatever you want." He can play along. Try his best to act uninterested despite the object hardening in his shorts.

"Do you want to eat out or in?" Your smile is a beam. A sight that happens often but not for more than a second before a burst of laughter. You've held it for 30 seconds now.

Alex looks down on his book. His eyes skim but he is pretty sure he can't even read the English language at this point. "Whatever you want." He prays for you to say in so they can order it, fuck, pay the delivery guy, fuck until the food is cold, reheat the food, fuck, eat, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I'm tired. Let's eat in. There should be takeaway menus in one of the kitchen drawers." You better not be tired.

"I'll go grab them after I finish this page." It should take about a decade for him to get through this page.

He hears a splash and looks up. You're back underwater, kicking your feet loudly. When you first got together, back during that rough buzzcut season of his life when he was in the perils of a near-mental breakdown and you were supposed to be a girl in a series of other girls until you weren't, Alex and you spent entire lifetimes out in his pool. You were relatively poor by comparison, sharing an apartment with 2 other people. No pool, no privacy. You joked with Alex sometimes that you'd never be together without those two things.

In those first few weeks, when the title of your relationship rested in the firmly sexual position, you'd do what you were doing now. The difference was Alex was usually in the pool with you, with equal nude-ship status. You fucked in the pool, multiple times. You fucked in the hot tub, multiple times. Now, he'd like to fuck in this pool or near it, he doesn't have to get wet, only you do.

"Water girl!" He yelled out. At the far end of the pool, you look behind your shoulder. The waves of the water shield any good view of your body. "Come here."

You push off the wall in his direction. Your hands wrap around the edge of the pool, hanging off of it. "Yes?"

"Come here." Alex gestures you out of the pool.

You bite your lip and sit your chin on the pool's edge. With a slight shake of your head, you say, "Too hot. Did you decide on dinner?"

"I didn't get the menus yet."

"Well, why don't you go do that?" You're manipulative and exploitative, dangling your body in front of him and snatching it away. 

Thinking the dinner menus might get you out of the pool, he shuts the unread book, and heads to the kitchen. It takes him about 3 drawers to find the stack of menus tucked in the back. He thinks tomorrow you both should go to the grocery store a couple of streets down and he'll cook dinner. You're a rotten cook. You lived off fruit, McDonald's, and the kindness of friends before you met him. If there is any time he does feel like a sugar daddy is when he is servicing you with meals. You attempted to cook a meal together once and you had sliced your hand within the first 5 minutes.

When he turns around, a blur passes through the kitchen. He glances down at the puddles of water across the wood-paneled floor. He abandons the menus in favour of chasing that blur. You're easy to catch up to, you've made your way to the living room. Alex stands at the archway, blocking you in.

You stand, dripping, in the corner of the room. Your arms are covered over your boobs. Your legs are slightly crossed at your ankles. "What's your next move here, Turner?" You ask teasingly.

He stands back, trying to remain intact and undeterred. He crosses his arms. "I'm the one with the exit. You, my friend, are trapped in."

You bite your bottom lip and shake your head. "I'm the one with the advantage."

"How's that?"

"No clothes weighing me down and you are a man with the inability to focus on anything when boobs are present." You drop your arms to your side. Boobs with water droplets running down the sides and perky nipples staring at him. 

Yes, he totally does get distracted by the boobs for a split second, but he is determined to stay resolute. He dashes across the room, eliciting a squeal from you before he even comes close to you. He reaches out trying to grab your slippery limbs. 

You're both laughing messes when he manages to curl an arm around your waist. Alex's stumbling and your weight makes you fall onto the couch. You scream. "We can't get the couch wet!"

His back lands on the couch preventing you from soaking the couch. Your wet hair lands in Alex's mouth as he says, "You want to do it on the floor again?"

"Can't we ever just do it in a bed?" His tight grip on you doesn't allow you to stand up, still stacked on top of him, despite your wriggling. 

"Not when you're running around wet and naked."

You're able to wriggle out of his grip and sit beside his lounging body on the couch. She smirks. "Why don't you hurry up and take your clothes off then?"

He shoves his shorts off pretty quickly after that command. With little hesitation, you straddle him, sinking onto him. That divine stretch has you unleashing a moan. He shivers from the chill you bring. You engulf him completely and lean down, scattering light kisses down his neck. 

You sit up, lifting yourself slowly and then dropping down quickly, similar to the way he slams into you when he's in control. You grind on him, back and forth, making him let out a growly moan. 

You place your hands on his upper chest. Your movements quicken and he places his hands lightly on your waist. He squeezes your skin when he moans. The sex itself is blurry like you running through the kitchen and his chase for his orgasm is short, already worked up from your teasing. Riding him often leads to a quickie. 

"Where do you wanna cum, huh?" You're sneering and flirty taunting smirk.

His eyes widen from their previous tightly shut state. "You're gonna let me cum on your tits?"

She nods. "Just don't get it in my hair." You say this every time. He never has but you still have this great fear of a drop getting into your hair.

After a few more bounces of friction, heat, skin-to-skin, and whimpering gasps, Alex urges you off of him. You promptly go down to your knees on the floor. Alex swings his legs onto the floor and reaches his climax too quick to stand up. A couple of pumps and ropes land on your chest. His aim is still on point. He throws his head back, resting it on the couch. You run your hand up his inner thigh in both a teasing and soothing manner. 

A beat passes before you stand up and peck his cheek. He blindly touches your elbow with a soft touch, trying to urge you to lie back down on top of him, chest-to-chest. 

You disconnect from him. "I'm gonna order dinner now!" He's completely spent and you're energetically scurrying back over to the kitchen. At least, he can admire your back as you leave. And your ass, he doesn't appreciate your cute little butt enough.

*

You've got his shirt on again, except now there's no bra underneath. The first few buttons have been left open allowing him to see that sacred curve. The two of you sit, eating at a little table on the patio that overlooks the ocean. Your hair has grown lighter in the sun, bouncing rays off of it. It's messily dried from its former wet state, making it look like a light aura surrounds you.

"I'm going to bring out the bottle of wine," you announce, rising from your chair. It doesn't help matters that you're only wearing your underwear underneath the linen fabric.

His dressed state isn't much different than yours. His own loose-fitted, casually unbuttoned shirt. His sunglasses covering his eyes. That chain of his catching the sun. His hair was fluffy, always fluffy. You started calling him bunny after his hair had grown back. The way it flops around now reminds you of a bunny's ear.

You returned with the bottle, refilling the glasses you had been nursing. Alex had lit a cigarette while you were inside the house, the smoke exhaling from his lips in a spin that made you feel a lustful dizz.

You pluck the cig from in between his fingers, taking a drag of your own. He felt guilt that he had gotten you into the habit but you used to be one of those annoying people who carried around a vape and constantly hit it (god, he sounded old). He guesses taking a couple of drags of his cigarettes beats the damage that would have done. 

You stick out your hand toward the setting sun, tracing the horizon as the cigarette billows smoke from it. "I wish we had this view all the time." The sky was a blue fading into a purple disappearing into a pinkish orange. It felt like a painting before you.

"Yeah, me too," he says. Your eyes dash over to look at him. His sunglasses are off and his eyes are on you. His irises looked honey-coloured with the way the remaining golden light hit them. 

You give him a crooked smile. "You get me all the time," you point out.

"Not as much as I want," he wishes. He lifts his hand and motions to you. "Come here."

You giggle. "Me or the cigarette?"

He chuckles. "Both of you." 

You hand the cigarette over and he takes it away from you and grabs your hand. You stand up, pick up your wine, and follow the tug from that hand. You land on his lap and his arm, once holding your hand, curls around you.

You sit peacefully watching the sunset. Alex takes slow puffs of his smoke and you wrap your arms loosely around his neck and rest your head on his chest. The air is quiet. You don't think you've ever been in a place this quiet, the only sound being Alex's heart beating against your ear. 

He drops the cigarette into the ashtray. With his newly freed hand, he runs it down your sternum into the shirt's opening. He goes up the hill and holds the soft skin of your left boob. "You feeling me up already?" You question.

You admire his profile. You think people should chisel statues out of it. Like David or atop Mount Rushmore. He's more good-looking than any dead president or Biblical king. His head shifts over to you, not able to fully look at you due to your head being on his shoulder. "Just keeping it there for warmth," he whispers. You giggle and tilt your head to kiss his jaw softly.

He doesn't make any moves to move things further, instead, he just sits there with you watching the setting sun.

*

You're in bed when he gets out of the shower—still, dressed in that shirt and that underwear. Good. Easy access. You've brought your computer to bed though, which doesn't help matters. He tries to mask a groan at the thought you're emailing Coco.

You turn your laptop around showing a map. "I was thinking tomorrow we could go for a hike. There's a little trail a short drive away." 

Hike? You want to hike? Your athletic activity had generally been limited to sex and playing mermaid in the pool. When he met you he was probably at his fittest and you joked that he was a gym rat with a particular focus on the rat part. You'd be in the middle of sex, riding him, his hands would be on your waist, guiding you, and you would reach down and wrap your hand around his biceps. He had smirked thinking a compliment was coming when you jabbed, "Are you on steroids?" 

It had all been jokes. You liked working out. Well, you liked watching him work out. Sweaty and spent looked good on him, not on you. You're happy to play cheerleader.

"Sure," he agreed, slipping on boxers. You rapidly clapped your hands delightedly, pulling the computer back onto your lap.

Alex turned the overhead light off and the room was dark beside your bedside lamp and the glow of your laptop. You had left the window open a crack, the ocean breeze drifting in, making the curtains blow around. 

He carefully crawled into bed beside you. He is almost certain his back got sunburned, despite the copious amounts of lotion you applied to it, multiple times. He looks over at your screen, no longer on a map, but emailing Coco. "Come on, no work!"

"I saved it for the end of the evening," you reason.

"If you're going to email on vacation they should have given you paid leave." You conceded he had a point. But you were still going to finish this email.

You type away and Alex disappears under the covers. Suddenly, you feel a kiss on your ankle. You suppose you were too distracted to notice him inch his way down to the foot of the bed. "Alex," you say in an attempt to deter him, even though you don't really want to deter him. 

He kisses the side of the knee, creeping up closer and closer and closer. Then, your inner thigh. You shake with anticipation at his next move, but he stops there. He kisses the same space again. Then, your other thigh. "Alex," you say more as a plea than your prior attempt.

He seems to give a little then, kissing your center over your underwear. He's delicate with it. A soft kiss, slowly making his way up your cunt. Your toes curl in wanting and waiting. He dances around your clit. "Alex."

He slides your panties over to the side, kissing your clit directly making you moan. "You're wet," Alex notes. His voice is muffled under the sheets. "You're emailing Coco while you're this wet. Is there something I should know?"

You roll your eyes. You're eager. You went down on him today, you rode him today, you let him cum on your tits. Usually, Alex is better than you in the pleasing department. You're selfish and he worships pussy. "You should know that I want you to get on with it."

"Close the laptop." A haggler. You give and shut the laptop, placing it on your bedside table.

You lift the covers off his head to reveal his grinning face. "Your turn, Turner."

"Good one," he says and then he's sucking on your clit and you're clutching the bedsheets. His tongue showing your clit special attention tonight. You tug on the sheets and to prevent them from ripping, you switch to rooting them in his hair.

He starts humming against you, which vibrates through you. You would hate that he knows your body so well if he wasn't so good at pleasing it. He licks down and his tongue pokes at your entrance. His nose hits your clit, another thing that has you moaning. You wish you could fuck his nose. It's a weird thought but it makes sense when it hits your clit. You buck up into his face. It makes him smirk but he doesn’t let up. Only quickens.

Alex starts strongly fucking you with his tongue. You think he should worry about hair loss considering how hard you're yanking his hair. He hugs your thighs, pushing against your hips that keep rutting relentlessly.

It's easy for him to tell that an orgasm is on the horizon. Your legs start to shake and you're moaning, "Fuck, Alex, fuck." Your favourite expletive. You bring your legs to the back of his neck, crossing them, keeping him locked into your cunt. He doesn't let up for a moment, even if you weren't there pushing him down, he wouldn't let up. 

Your back arches up and you're gasping and moaning and he might cream his own underwear from the whole thing. You squeeze him to you tightly and he doesn't let up, leading him to overstimulation. "Alex, no more. Too raw."

Alex doesn't stop but turns soft. Little kisses around your clit that causes random rutting of your hips into his face. He fixes your panties, covering your cunt back up. He gives a kiss to the tiny bow on the top of your underwear. A little pink thing in the middle of the lace. He starts to kiss your body but you just feel utterly spent. You stop him when he attempts to unbutton your shirt. You tell him, "Too tired. We'll fuck tomorrow."

He kisses your belly button, then your shirt-covered boob, then your cheek, before rolling over to his side of the bed onto his back. You adjust your pillow and turn to lay on your stomach next to him. "I'll wake you up with a blowjob or something."

Alex grins. "A blowjob wake-up? You know how to please, woman." His hand snakes down your back and squeezes your ass. He toys with the lining of your underwear but makes no attempts to move it. "You've got a cute little butt, you know."

[h4ndwr1tten]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧

featuring: roommate!satoru x reader

cw: fluff really, strong language? kinda suggestive.

the sudden, thundering sound of what seemed to be a crash had you jolting awake. you immediately sat upright and reached over to your lamp, switching it on and scanning your room on high alert. glancing over at your digital alarm clock, you found that it was only 1:03 in the winter morning. what kind of asshole would partake in destructing something this late?

the first person to come into mind was satoru, your roommate. he tends to stay up as late as possible doing the most random and stupid shit he could thing of. once, you caught him trying to fit himself into the shared washing machine at 3 am. but you remembered that earlier, you were going to confront him about how he left his used boxers and socks on the bathroom floor after his shower. when you stormed into his room, however, he was surprisingly in deep sleep.

so if satoru was slumped, where did the noise come from?

you debated leaving your bed for your safety or staying there, also for your safety, but ultimately decided on quickly checking the apartment for something unusual. quietly groaning, you forced yourself out of bed and into the hallway.

you hadn't found anything out of the ordinary, making you firmly believe it was an inconsiderate neighbor. nothing felt off and you weren't experiencing any sense of doom, so you returned to your bed and knocked right out.

only, an hour later, you woke up freezing. your room felt like pure ice and your body felt like you had been dipped into an ice bath. when did it get so damn cold? you thought, pulling your blanket higher up your body. it was snowing outside, but the cold shouldn't have been able to be felt with the heater on.

you tried to go back to sleep, but you only found yourself shivering despite the blanket. you rubbed your legs together in an attempt to warm you up, but it didn't seem to work. you huffed, irritated and uncomfortable by the temperature change.

getting up for the second time, you threw your blanket over your shoulders and went into the hallway to check the thermostat. there, you found satoru, also checking the temperature.

"cold?" he asked, his voice raspy from probably having been woken up to the same thing.

you hummed in response, watching silently as he tried to figure out what was wrong. he tapped at a few times, pressed the buttons every second, until he noticed that the temperature of the heater wasn't changing.

"it's broken."

oh.

"what? the thermostat?" you question, a little densely, but to be fair, it was 2 in the morning.

"no, the heater," satoru replied, tapping at his lips in thought.

that made a lot more sense. the weather from antarctica couldn't have just magically moved in with you. but did this have to do with the loud bang from earlier?

"satoru," you begin, "i woke up an hour ago because there was a bang, but i checked and nothing seemed broken inside here."

satoru hummed, turning away from the wall and to you. he opened his mouth to speak and you anticipated it, but instead, you watched as his eyes trailed down your frame, eyes falling onto your body. he was silent for a few seconds, visibly gulping. his face felt warm. could you see his pink-tinted cheeks in the dim lighting?

clearing his throat, satoru turned away and pretended to observe the thermostat, mumbling, "yeah, that might have... that might've been it."

confused, you look down at your body to find what elicited his behavior. it took you a second, but you noticed your hardened nipples poking out through your shirt. you forgot that was a thing. your eyes widened and you quickly folded your arms and blanket over your chest, feeling a tad bit embarrassed.

"what do we do now?" you asked, hoping to ease the awkwardness.

"how many blankets do you have?"

fuck, they're all in the laundry.

"one."

satoru side-eyed you, slowly turning to face you, his face deadpan.

"they're in the laundry!" you raised your hands in defense, effectively dropping the blanket to the ground.

it seemed to have caught satoru's attention because of the way his eyes moved down to the ground. then slowly up your figure, as if drinking in every part of you. your arms were still hiding your chest and you didn't look all that great right now, considering you were only in pajama pants and a baggy tee. but the way he looked at you made you feel like it was more than just the attire.

you shifted your weight onto one foot, warmth creeping up your neck. you had always felt some sort of attraction towards your roommate, but considering how insanely attractive he was, you thought that he would never even think of seeing you the same way.

but gosh, the way he eyed you like the most valuable treasure there ever was. the way there seemed to be a sort of want, desire burning in his eyes. that was enough to make you question his feelings.

"satoru?" you call, growing antsy under his gaze.

"sleep in my room," he suggests casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"what...?"

he sighed, probably wondering if you were stupid, or deaf, or both. "the heating's down, and it's only going to get colder from here. i say that because we are both mature, grown adults, we sleep in the same bed because right now, shared body heat is likely the only thing that's going to keep us from freezing."

you were stunned, to say the least. that's the most and longest sensible thing to come out of satoru's mouth ever. had he thought of this before?

"i guess you're right," you mumbled, face flushed. "but wouldn't it be awkward?"

"it'll only be awkward if you make it awkward," satoru retorted, opening the door to his room and waiting for you to enter. "we're mature, right?"

you walked into his ridiculously messy room, sighing, "i am, but i don't know about you."

"hey!"

you flopped down onto satoru's bed, a lingering warmth around it from before he got up. your heart began to beat a little faster as he approached the bed, the fact that you were actually about to sleep with someone you've dreamed of sleeping with before.

"y/n?" satoru called out, breaking your stare at the floor.

"yeah?"

"that's my side of the bed."

you blush furiously, scrambling to the opposite side, muttering, "oh, sorry."

but once you were there, satoru goes, "that's also my side."

you snap your head at him, glaring. "what do you mean, this is also your side?"

"i sleep in the middle."

"are you serious?" you sigh, growing uncomfortable.

"yep," satoru said, popping the p and sprawling out across the bed like a starfish. his once (and extremely rare) seriousness was gone, and he was back to his irritating antics.

you sat at the very edge of the bed, nearly sliding off, uncomfortable in the silence. satoru's eyes were closed and his breathing seemed to have relaxed, and you wondered if he was asleep. you wondered if he really meant what he said by sharing the bed too.

"satoru?" you murmured, chewing the inside of your cheek.

"mph?"

standing up, you uttered, "i can just go back to my room, i don't wanna bother you. i'll get warm eventually."

you weren't lying. even though sleeping in his bed felt like a really good idea, both for your comfort and desire, you would hate to be a bother to him.

peeking an eye open, satoru reached for your hand and grasped it, pulling you back down.

"i'm joking, y/n," he sighed, slightly muffled by his pillows. "get in here."

he fixed his position, then opened his blanket to beckon you in. you frowned, snapping, "you basically just said there's no room for me after suggesting we share the bed."

despite that, you still found yourself crawling into the warmth of his sheets. you kept yourself at the edge, though, still afraid of taking up his personal space.

it's quiet for a moment again. you raise the blanket just up to the underside of your nose, nervously picking at the pillowcase. his scent engulfed you; a mix of his cologne and natural musk, with a faint hint of detergent. you realize this is real.

satoru sighs, and to your surprise, he throws his arm around your torso and pulls you into him, your back now pressed against his front. he doesn't take off his arm, but instead, gently runs his cold hand along your stomach as if comforting you.

"i was just messing with you," he mumbles, drowsiness in his voice. "but i'm sorry, you big baby."

realizing what he said, you elbowed him in the ribs, but not too hard to actually hurt him. satoru let out a fake whine, both of you laughing quietly after.

silence fills the two of you, the only noises being shared breathing and city noise from outside. it's quiet, but it's comfortable.

you roll over onto your other side to face satoru, finding him with his eyes already shut and brows barely pinched. even in the dark, you can still make out the outline of his perfect features, from his long lashes to his cold-nipped lips. you'd trace them if you could, but you refrained out of fear of waking him up and the fact that you were in no position to be touching him like that.

"i can feel you staring at me," satoru mumbles, fatigued huskiness in his voice.

you blush, grateful for the lack of light in the room, whispering an apology.

satoru opens his eyes, a faint smile sitting atop his lips. "i know i'm insanely handsome, but sleep," he teased.

"i was actually looking at that fat, glow in the dark pimple on your forehead, but okay," you snort, scooting in closer to satoru's warmth.

his hand darts to his forehead, yelping, "actually??"

you giggle, "no. sleep."

"you suck," he sighs, chuckling before bringing his hand back to around you.

you slowly slide your arm under his and wrap it around his torso, your nerves and hesitation fading when he doesn't make a move to remove you. satoru whispers a goodnight, lips ever so slightly brushing against your forehead. you whisper it back, and sleep comes over the both of you.

maybe the heater should stay broken...

note — gave up on my layout D:

m. list

[sweatyracoon]

Poor Seungmin pt1

(a/n): picture not mine! ALSO- Seungmin is a hybrid, but he doesn't share the same features as regular hybrids. He knows, but his members don't. Because he doesn't have ears or a tail, he thought he wouldn't have a heat either. Boy, was he wrong.

Warnings: suggestive, hybrid!Seungmin, smut, Seungmin is shared, dry humping, cringe, lemme know if I missed anything

Pt 2

After a hard day of practice, Seungmin and the others all went to have dinner at McDonald's, one of his favorite places to eat. Everyone was sweaty and tired, but excited to spend more time together.

Lee know ordered first, offering to pay for everyone, but Seungmin wasn't having it. Instead of giving Lee know his order, he ignored him until he paid for everyone else.

"I can pay for myself, hyung. Thank you," Seungmin smiled lightly, placing his order.

Once all of the food came out, try all sat together, conversing lightly.

"So how should we turn, then, Chan?" Han asked his older member, wanting feedback.

The new choreo was proving to be very different from those before, stunting a few of them.

Hyunjin, sitting next to Seungmin, let his head fall to his youngers shoulder, munching on a fry.

"That girl was cute, Seung. Don't you think so?"

Hyunjin had been trying to find out what Seungmin liked and didn't like, but he was finding it hard because of his stoic demeanor.

"Hyunjin. Do you like her or something?" Seungmin decided to play dumb, knowing what Hyunjin was getting at.

"No. But she looked like she liked you," He responded, yawning.

Seungmin, unlike the rest of the group, hasn't shared his preferences when it came to dating. He knew his hybrid side wouldn't allow a normal relationship, which is also another secret he has kept these four years.

"The color of her ears was pretty though. You think shes a cat hybrid?" Jeonjin asked from his place next to Felix.

"Possibly? They looked more like a mouse, though...Right?" Han asked, his cheeks filled with food.

The boys continued to guess, unsure. But Seungmin knew. Its something every hybrid shares.

"Shes a fox hybrid," Seungmin sighed, tired of the false answers.

The boys turned to him, all quiet.

"So you WERE paying attention," Hyunjin teased.

Seungmin guessed the real reason she stared at him for that brief moment was because she also sensed it. Hybrids without physical features were extremely rare.

"Sure," He responded, eating another nugget.

When they reached their dorms, they all lounged for a while longer in the common room.

"I'm tired. I'm going to go lay down, alright guys?" Seungmin said, rising to stretch, showcasing his torso.

"Gonna go dream about that fox?" Changbin snickered, making the others giggle.

"Shes a girl with fox attributes, okay? Don't be rude," Seungmin scoffed, turning to leave.

Before he made it out of earshot, he heard Lee know say, "Why is he so sensitive about hybrids?"

"Who knows?"

Seungmin sighed as he washed before bed. The guys new why he was so respectful to hybrids. Most of his family themselves were hybrids, including his sister, which they all knew well.

All of his family were dog hybrids. What type? He had no clue. His mother and sister had floppy ears, and short, long haired tails. His dad, however, wasn't a hybrid. That's why, for the longest time, he thought he was the same way.

But he wasn't. A blood test came back, telling him he was one of the most rare type of hybrids. He was happy, but confused.

That's why, when he started feeling hot for no reason, he just thought he was getting sick.

Making his way to his and Bangchans shared room, he collapsed onto his small twin sized bed, suddenly feeling weak. Groaning, he took out his phone and checked the time.

One thirty two a.m. Seungmin was used to being up, and he wasn't really tired now that his body was all achy.

But then the heat pushed further, making him pant. How hot was it? He checked the thermostat next to the door, and it was 73 degrees. Pushing the button to make it lower, sweat was forming just above his brow.

He didn't want to take off his shirt, not wanting to expose himself when Chan comes in.

He changed his sweats, putting shorts on instead. Still didn't change the way he was feeling.

Lying back down on his bed, his head started to think of nasty thoughts.

That fox girl came into mind, making him whimper at the thought. But it wasn't her that was making him sound off, it was the look in Hyunjins eyes when he talked about her to Seungmin.

The teasing look that had a hint of lust in them. Was it lust? Seungmin thought it was just his horny brain.

It continued to drift.

He thought of the dance practice a few days ago, when he tripped and landed on Lee know who was right behind him. The older member was quick to help him get up, and make sure he was okay. At the time, it didn't bother him, but now he realized that Lee know was pressed flush against him, his large, firm thighs pressed behind him. Lee knows hands rubbed his shoulders, his face so close to Seungmins neck he could feel his breath lingering.

"Are you hurt?" Lee know asked, squeezing his shoulders.

"No, hyung. I'm okay," Seungmin smiled.

Now all Seungmin could imagine was Lee Knows thighs caging him, his hands all over his body.

And Han! When Han bit him playfully after Seungmin called him a rat instead a quokka. Han bit hard enough to leave his teeth marks, right on his forearm. What if he bit his neck instead?

Seungmin was a full on mess, a tent now forming in his shorts as he was laying on his bed above the blankets.

His breathing was ragged, and his body felt as if it were on fire, making him groan. He couldn't sit still, rocking back and forth as his mind became filthier.

He rocked a little too much, eventually falling off the side of the bed. It wasn't a steep drop, but enough to make noise. That was about the time Bangchan came in, expecting to fall asleep, only to find a disheveled Seungmin that had fell from his bed.

"Seungmin!" Bangchan rushed over, seeing his friend face down on the floor, shivering.

All he could do was moan, hips moving gently against the ground, finding some friction.

"Seungmin, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" Bangchan grabbed at his shoulders, trying to flip him over. Seungmin felt the fire focus where Chan grabbed him, moaning even louder.

Once flipped, Chan saw his younger members state. No longer a tent, but a full on boner in his shorts, straining against the material. Eyes glossy, tears threatening to pour from them, and mouth open, panting moans out, his braces on full display, covered in drool.

"C-Channie-" was all Seungmin could get out before grabbing his hand, and whimpered, closing his eyes.

Seungmin was so embarrassed, but couldn't stop himself.

"He-heat..." He breathed, making Chan freeze.

Chan had always found it odd that Seungmin resembled a puppy more than his family, but his sister once hinted to him that he isn't completely human. After Seungmin said that word, all of it was confirmed.

"Your...heat? Do you need me to call someone? Or..." Chan didn't know how to deal with a heat. Or anything to do with hybrids.

He didn't want to do anything he wasn't supposed to.

"Ah- please- help Channie hyung-" Seungmins back was arching off the floor now, whimpering.

Chan thought for a moment, then stood, fighting the death grip that Seungmin had on his hand. Ignoring the pleading from him, Chan walked to the entrance of their room, closing the door. He wasn't going to leave Seungmin like this.

Walking back to the moaning boy, he used his arms to lift him bridal style, making the boy yelp. Slowly but firmly, Chan placed him safely back in his twin bed, taking a seat next to him.

"Help.." Seungmins tongue poked out, licking his dry lips.

"How do I help you, Min?" Chan wanted to help, but how? He gave Seungmin his arm, letting him guide it to use.

Seungmin grasped it quickly, moving his hips to meet his wrist, grinding against it. It surprised Chan, being used in such a way by someone he saw as a younger brother, but it didn't upset him. It excited him.

Seungmin gasped, letting tears slip as he finally had some relief to the growing pain forming in his cock.

Chan watched, mesmerized by the sight. He never would have guessed Seungmin could be this way.

Whimpering turning into moans, Seungmin grinded harder, egging Chan on.

"Seungmin, I have an idea. Can I touch you?" He asked, wanting to help.

"Please! Just make it go away-" he said, turning his face into the pillow.

Chan nodded, pulling his arm from Seungmin, earning a sob in response. But Chan quickly moved his hand, grabbing his bulge roughly, earning a loud moan. Rubbing, and grabbing, trying his best to turn the pain into pleasure.

Seungmins panting proved that he was doing good. He rubbed faster, seeing the tears in Mins eyes.

Getting bolder, he slipped his hand under the waistband, coming skin to skin with his cock, and Seungmins back arched for the second time, moaning, perhaps, too loud.

"Shh.. It's okay, Minnie-" Chan coaxed, trying to quiet him.

Chan felt him twitch at the nickname, making him grin. He picked up the pace, noticing Seungmins sounds became louder, his breathing more erratic. His hips rutting up, trying to reach his release.

"Ch-Channie!! I'm cumming!" Was all Seungmin could say before opening his jaws in a silent scream, painting Chan's hand white.

Chan removed his hand after helping the younger come down from his high, licking it clean, making seungmin blush.

"Are you feeling alright, Seungmin?" Chan asked, pulling the blankets over him.

"I'm so sorry, Chan. I thought I couldn't have a heat since-" Seungmin blinked at him, embarrassed deeply.

"Don't worry about that, Min. Its natural. I just hope I did it right. I don't know anything about hybrids," Chan smiled softly at him, hoping to comfort him. "You know I have to tell the guys right?"

"Wait, why?" Seungmin sat up, causing Chan to push him back down.

"Relax, Min. If this happens again... The heat, and I'm not there, but someone else is, they are going to have to help you. Its to keep you safe," Chan said, trying to sound reasonable.

Seungmin was already panting again, but out of panic. Fear of being rejected by his members. Four years, and this has never been an issue, so why now?

"But, what if it freaks them out Chan? Wat if they don't want to be near me? I-" Chan quieted him with a hand on his jaw.

"We're your friends, Seung. They'll be okay, I promise. And so will you."

"Promise?" Seungmin flashed his puppy eyes to Chan, making him swoon.

"I promise, puppy."

[suddencolds]

insatiable appetite [1/?]

sooo... this is one of the thirstiest things i have written—and also one of the only times i've written a character with the kink, ever T.T warnings in advance for mess, character getting sneezed on, implied contagion, possible ooc-ness, & me writing this entirely with my d instead of my head

ivan and till are from al//ien sta//ge (a very fun watch which will only take 30 mins out of your life; i really recommend it!!). that said, this fic takes place in a modern au setting, so feel free to read it without any prior context :)

special thanks to @6pmsoup for sending me a very cute alnst doodle of these two which altered my brain chemistry permanently

—

Summary: Till shows up to a dinner outing with a brewing cold. Ivan suffers. (est. relationship, kink!Ivan, ~2k words)

—

For all Till tries to hide it, Ivan can tell immediately.

There’s this: Ivan has been paying attention to Till for most of his life. A full decade before they’d gotten together officially, and some more—this is how long Ivan has had to observe his tells. Always from the sidelines, always with a detached air of indifference that, in reality, was anything but.

All the signs are there the night before. Till, turning up the thermostat a couple degrees higher than he usually keeps it. Spending a little too long in the shower and using up almost all of the hot water. Clearing his throat one too many times in the morning before Ivan leaves for work, his smile distracted, the rasp of his voice nearly indistinguishable—but only nearly.

Now, Till is here for dinner—it’s a dinner they’ve had plans for a couple weeks now, at one of the nicer restaurants downtown, in celebration of Till’s recent promotion. Ivan had booked the reservation a couple weeks in advance.

When Till arrives, stepping out of a taxi cab, he’s wearing a scarf, even though the weather is too warm for it. Ivan steps up to meet him. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Till says. “Traffic here was the worst I’ve ever seen it, swear to god.”

“Was it cold outside today?” Ivan asks, a little pointedly, tilting his head towards his scarf.

Till looks at him, his expression unreadable. Then he nods. “Colder than usual, for this time of year.”

“Strange,” Ivan says, just to be difficult. “But the weather forecast says it’s the same temperature today as yesterday.” 

“It’s probably just windier today,” Till says, readjusting his scarf around his neck. His face is a little flushed.

“Your voice sounds a little off, though.”

Till clears his throat with a scowl. “You must be imagining it,” he says. “It always sounds like this.”

No admission, then. That’s fine. Ivan will get the truth out of him at some point. He lets Till guide him into the restaurant.

It’s a nice restaurant—worth the hassle of the reservation, Ivan thinks. Each table is set with flowers arranged tastefully in long glass vases, empty wine glasses turned on their heads. The server—who leads them to their table in a small, private booth—is wearing a suit.

It’s a shame, really. Ivan has a feeling that he won’t be able to pay attention to any of that tonight.

They sit. Ivan looks down at the menu, picks out something at random in a matter of seconds. Truthfully, he can hardly think of anything less worth his attention right now. He turns his attention to Till instead—Till, who’s seated directly across from him, the scarf still around his neck, obscuring the lower half of his face. 

Till sniffles, reaching down to turn the page, and oh. The sniffle is terribly liquid—has he been sniffling like that all afternoon? Perhaps it’s a good thing that they work at different offices—Till at a law firm, Ivan as a senior manager at a consulting company—because Ivan certainly doesn’t think he’d be able to get any work done with Till sniffling like that. 

It’s not two minutes later that Till is reaching up to wipe his nose against the back of one knuckle. All in all, it’s discreet. Just a quick brush of the fingers against his nose, which is still hidden under the scarf. Though, the look of sheer ticklishness that passes over his features for a brief moment there is...

“What are you thinking of ordering?” Ivan asks.

“I can’t decide,” Till answers. He turns the page again. “It’s between the ribeye steak and the… snf! The pork belly. Is this the kind of place that skimps on the portion sizes?”

“Not from their Yelp reviews,” Ivan says. “You know, if you really can’t decide, I can flip a coin.”

“I’ll pick,” Till says. “Why? Hungry already?”

He looks up, now. His eyes are a little watery. There’s a faint flush over the bridge of his nose. Ivan thinks that if he reached out and touched him, he’d probably be running warm. The thought is almost unbearable.

“Your taxi did take forever to arrive,” Ivan says, by way of explanation. 

“Did you really wait that long?”

He looks uncertain, for a moment. Ivan says, “Not at all. But you know, I’m always impatient when it comes to you.”

Till rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “There was a meeting that ran late. I wasn’t avoiding you.”

“Is that also a part of your new position?” “I guess so, yeah.”

“I can see why they were eager to promote you, then,” Ivan says. “How productive can late afternoon meetings be, anyways?”

Till snorts. “Not that important. It definitely could have been an email instead. I was about ready to doze off.”

He sniffles again. “Okay. I think I know what I want.” The way he says know betrays the slightest hint of congestion. 

“At long last,” Ivan says, just to be a little bit of an ass. “I’ll call over the waiter.”

He flags their waiter down, waits for Till to order first.

“A spiced apple cider,” Till adds on, at the end, with the slightest of coughs. “Hot, if you can.”

That’s new, too. Till seldom orders hot drinks at restaurants, though he’ll drink tea without complaint if it’s offered. Perhaps his throat hurts, then, from the cold that has clearly started to settle in his system. Subtle, still, but Ivan is familiar with colds like this. He knows it will probably only be a few hours before this deceptively “small” cold turns into…

Ivan orders, too, and thanks the waiter, who leaves with a curt nod. When he looks back over to Till, there’s a… strange something to Till’s expression, a slight distractedness. Irritation.

Ivan swallows hard. He should look away. 

He should, but then, Till’s breath hitches. He pulls the scarf higher over his face preemptively, as if he anticipates having something to have to cover for. The sharp intake of breath that follows is breathy, though Ivan can hear Till’s voice in it. He should really look away.

Instead, he takes the scene in, painstakingly, little by little, as Till’s shoulders jerk forwards. As Till presses a hand to the scarf, presses the fabric closer to his face, to muffle a sneeze into his fingertips:

“hhH-Ih!! hiHH-’IESCHH-eew-!”

God. It sounds utterly miserable, the harsh release of it scraping against his throat, the spray tearing into his scarf. It’s the kind of cold sneeze that is undeniably telling: this is going to be one hell of a cold. It’s not very quiet, either, even muffled into the fabric.

For more reasons than one, Ivan is glad they’re in a private corner of the restaurant, not somewhere more public.

“Bless you,” he offers, once he can trust himself to speak. It’s a good thing that Till is too distracted to look up at him right now. Ivan isn’t sure he can keep what he’s feeling off of his face.

Truthfully, he isn’t sure he’s going to be able to endure a whole night of this.

The problem here is that Till—Till, of all people; Till, who Ivan has been pathetically in love with for almost as long as he can remember—has no idea about Ivan’s… relatively niche interests. That is to say, he has no idea what effect it has on Ivan when he does that.

“Thanks,” Till says, a little stuffily. He sniffles again, lowering his hand. 

Ivan can’t help it. He knows he shouldn’t pursue this line of questioning, but he can feel his self-control dwindling by the second. “Don’t you think it would be better to take off your scarf, now that we’re inside?”

Till freezes. “Y-You know what,” he says evasively. “It’s pretty cold in here.”

Ivan tilts his head in question. “And just how do you plan on eating like that?”

“I’ll take it off when our food comes.”

“I can ask the waiter to turn the temperature up, if it’s a problem,” Ivan says. 

“It’s not a problem.”

Ivan rises from his seat. Till watches him, perplexed, as he heads to the opposite side of the table, where Till is seated.

When he gets there, he stops. Stands, unmoving, so he can study Till from above. 

“What are you—”

Ivan reaches out, settles his palm across Till’s forehead. As expected, it’s warm. Not quite feverish, which is a good sign, but warm enough to be notable. 

“Just how long were you intending to hide this?”

Till stares back at him, wide-eyed. “Hide what?”

Shouldn’t it be obvious? “The fact that you have a cold.”

“I didn’t think it was worth mentioning,” Till says, slowly.

“Hmm.” Ivan drops his hand to his side. He is a little concerned, now. “We could’ve called a rain check.”

This time Till really does roll his eyes. “For the reservation we planned weeks ahead?” he sniffles again. “That just sounds completely and utterly unnecessary. Are you the type of person to call things off just over a little cold?” 

Ivan leans over, tugs down the edge of Till’s scarf. Till bats his hand away just a moment too late, cups his other hand over his face to shield his face from view. For a moment, he looks faintly mortified.

Then his expression settles into something more disgruntled. “What are you doing?” he hisses.

So uncooperative. “Let me see,” Ivan says. Slowly, gently, he pries Till’s hands away from his face, and then—because the restaurant is dimly lit—tilts Till’s face up slightly so that it catches more of the overhead light. 

Till’s nose is redder than usual. He’s probably been rubbing it all afternoon, if the redness that percolates into his cheeks is any indication. There’s  a damp, liquid sheen on the underside of his nose.

“What’s there to see?” Till says, a little crossly.

“Your face, since you’ve been so intent on hiding it under that scarf,” Ivan says, leaning in to get a better look.

Till scowls at him, but there’s no heat to it. “You see my face every day.”

“On the contrary, I don’t see it nearly enough,” Ivan says. “And you hardly ever get sick. Is it so wrong for me to be concerned?”

Without looking, he reaches behind him with one hand to grab a couple cocktail napkins. The other hand he keeps held up to Till’s cheek. 

But then, Till’s breath hitches. “Wait,” he says. Panic flashes through his face. “Ivan, move, I—”

Oh. Well, seeing as there’s no way he’ll be able to get the napkins over in time, it looks like he’ll have to improvise. If Till wants to cover, Ivan can help with that. He moves his hand to cup it loosely over Till’s mouth. Not a second too late, it seems. Till jerks forward unceremoniously, his nose twitching, his eyes squeezing shut.

“hHheh-! HHh’EIITShHh’yYiew!” he gasps sharply. Two? “Hh-! hHiiH’DSSCSSHh-IIew!”  

The jolt of the sneezes is practically electrifying—all of that force, brought to an abrupt halt behind Ivan’s waiting palm. He feels the expulsion of air against his skin, the warmth of Till’s breath, feels the slight dampness behind his hand as the spray mists over his fingertips.

Ivan swallows, hard. Thank god it’s so dark here, otherwise Till might notice what this is doing to him. 

“Bless you,” he says, withdrawing his hand at last to wipe it on one of the cloth napkins. It comes out slightly raspier than he intends it to, though perhaps it’s a miracle that he’s still able to talk at all. “Some cold, hmm?” Belatedly, he hands Till the stack of napkins.

Till practically snatches them from him, turns aside to blow his nose wetly into the top few. The way he sniffles afterwards suggests that his nose is still very much running. 

“Do you have no self preservation? It’s as if you want to catch this,” Till says, drawing back with another sniffle.

Oh, Ivan thinks, fighting back a shiver. That would be far from the worst thing.

[mariposa-writes]

One Day at a Time

Pairing: Simon ‘ghost’ Riley x platonic!reader

Word count: 3.4k

Overview: You tell Simon the truth and he’s more than ready to help.

TW: themes of sexual assault (let me know if there’s anymore I need to tag)

—————————————

It was late, like middle of the night late. Simon had just gotten back from a mission and was ready to pass out in his bed. Although he knew that wouldn’t happen. He was never able to fall asleep straight after a mission. He was always to worked up to sleep and just spent hours, maybe even days staring at his ceiling.

Simon was always on high alert, especially during or after a mission. So when he got out of his car and noticed a faint glow coming through his window he instantly pulled out his gun.

He knew he turned off all the lights before he left. He was always anal about leaving his house a certain way before a mission. Doors locked, lights off, thermostat set at 25 degrees Celsius, and everything had to be perfectly clean and put away so no critters would enter his home and find food.

He turned the knob on his front door, noting that it was unlocked. He slowly and silently pushed it open, so he wouldn’t alarm the possible intruder.

The light was coming from his living room, a small lamp he had purchased years ago. He quickly swept his house, with only his bedroom left. He pushed open the door, expecting to see an enemy waiting for him.

Instead he saw you laying in his bed, sound asleep. He didn’t know why you were here, you’d only come here once before. He knew something must’ve been wrong for you to be here. He quickly put his gun away and took off his mask, not wanting to frighten you.

He made his way over to where you were curled up in his bed. Your long hair was covering most of his pillow along with some stands across your face. He gently brushed them from your face, careful not to wake you.

He noticed the tears stained onto your cheeks along with the slight hiccup in your breath. Simon knew you must’ve fallen asleep crying. He frowned as he felt his heart break.

Why were you crying? You never cried.

He didn’t know whether he should wake you or let you sleep. What if it was an emergency and you needed help? What if someone hurt you? He knew he needed to wake you and find out what was wrong or he’d spiral until you woke up.

He gently woke you up, calling out your name along with a slight shake to your shoulder. When you woke up he could tell you were slightly confused. “Simon?” You asked, as he was crouched down next to the bed so he was eye level with you.

“Yea?” He asked not sure how to respond. Simon was equipped to deal with many things but a girl crying in his bed was not one.

“I thought you were on a mission, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bother you. I just needed a place to stay and I knew you weren’t home” You explained growing more frantic with each word. He could tell you were on the verge of tears again. “I’ll leave.” Your voice broke “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.” You said getting out of bed and gathering your things.

Simon didn’t want you to leave. He wanted to help you. He wanted to know why you were here. Why you felt the need to come here and why you were crying. As he stood there frozen you kept repeating how sorry you were.

He didn’t realize it, but he was reaching for your hand. “Don’t cry pretty girl.” He said, wiping the tears from your cheeks despite the new ones replacing the ones he’d wipe away. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing” you cried, realizing what a mistake you made by being here. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come.” You said, trying to pull away. “I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Stop.” Simon said, pulling you into his chest. “It’s fine, you’re fine.” Simon wasn’t one for physical touch, but he could tell you needed comfort more than you cared to admit.

Simon led you guys back to the bed having you drop your stuff on the floor. “Why don’t you lay down again. I can tell you’re tired.” He said pulling the covers of his bed back for you. You nodded, sniffling now that you’d calmed down a tad.

You got back in his bed, as he put the covers back over you. “I’m gonna get you some water and change in the bathroom. I’ll be right back. You can stay in my bed and I’ll take the couch.” you nodded, before he disappeared back into the hall. It was dark in the room, the only light coming from the full moon that was out tonight.

Simon came back a few minutes later in sweats and a black tee with a glass of water in his hand. He handed it to you, letting you drink some before putting it on his night stand. “Simon?” You croaked.

“Yes?”

“Will you please stay until I fall asleep? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Simon shifted on his feet, “of course.” He came over to the bed and pulled back the covers sitting down in the bed. He didn’t lay down, just sat with his back against the head board.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for ya.” You smiled, not knowing how much Simon truly meant that. In the time you’d spent with him, you’d slowly craved out a spot for you in his heart. Although Simon had know you for almost two years you guys had only spent a little bit of time together, in between his mission.

You knew he was in the military and that he got deployed every so often, but you didn’t know how lethal he was. You didn’t realize he was a stone cold killing machine. To you Simon was just the guy that you played chess with once a week at the park in between your school and house. That would occasionally leave for weeks or months of end. Never knowing when he’d return.

“Simon?” You whispered, turning to face him.

“Yes?”

“Can I lay on you?” You looked up at with him with those big beautifully colored eyes of yours.

“Yeah.” With that you were scooting closer to him. Head laying on his thigh, arm thrown across his legs.

“Thanks.” You whispered, getting a grunt in return from Simon. You closed your eyes focusing on falling asleep. As Simon stroked your hair. He didn’t even realize he was doing it at first, but you didn’t complain and seemed to like it. Your breathing was growing calmer and he could tell you would soon be asleep.

He originally planned on leaving once you were asleep but he couldn’t bare to leave you. What if you needed him? What if he woke you while trying to leave.

He decided it was just easier for him to stay, trying to tell him self it would be too much work to leave. Deep down he knew he couldn’t leave you cause he cared to much.

He stayed with you the whole night, only leaving once the sun rose. He got out of bed, when Soap texted him he was there. He opened the front door, allowing Soap to enter. “So man-“

Simon shushed him, putting a finger over his lips signaling for Soap to quiet down. Simon went back to check that you hadn’t woken up. He slowly shut the door to his room so Soap could be a little louder. He originally left it open so he could hear if you woke up. “So, why’d you text me, asking me to bring some groceries over?” Soap asked in a hushed tone.

“Remember the girl I told you about? The one that writes me sometimes.”

“The one you play chess with in the park?” Soap asked.

“Yes that one, well she’s currently sleeping in my bed and I wanted to make her breakfast.”

“You slept with her?” Soap whisper yelled. “Dude I thought she was in high school!”

“What? No I didn’t sleep with her!” Simon shook his head. “Dude she’s like a little sister to me! That’s gross you would even think that!” Simon whispered yelled back at Soap.

“Oh good, hand me worried you were gonna go to jail.”

“I tend to make it a habit to not sleep with minors” Simon shook his head, “this isn’t the point, I wouldn’t sleep with her. End. Of. Story.”

“Ok, but then why’s she in your bed?”

“She was here when I got home last night.” Simon explained.

“Why?”

“Not sure, that’s what I’m trying to figure out. But she had clearly been crying and something was wrong. She didn’t wanna talk, but I’m hoping she will open up today.” Soap listened, not sure how to help.

“That sucks man, hopefully everything’s alright and it was just over some stupid boy drama.”

“Yea, I hope it’s that but I have a feeling it’s more than that. But hey, thanks for bringing this stuff over.”

“Anytime man, see ya later.” Soap said letting himself out the front door. Simon got to work, cooking up the best breakfast he’d ever made. There was bacon, sausage, eggs, 3 different types of hash browns, cereal, pancakes, waffles, and a few other things by the time you woke up.

You came out of his bedroom, clearly still tired. “Morning.” You said, sitting on one of the three stools in-front of his kitchen island.

“Morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Good, what’s all this?”

“Breakfast.”

You raised an eyebrow, “You made breakfast?” Simon nodded, “but you hate cooking.” You’d learned that little factoid about him in your 4th chess session. Simon never revealed much and neither did you.

That’s why you liked playing chess with him, there wasn’t any pressure to talk. “But I can cook, I’m actually pretty good at it.” He handed you a plate. “Here, get what you want.” He said moving out of the way so you could serve yourself.

“Man, I should sleep here more often if this is what I wake up to.” You mumbled, as you piled the food onto your plate.

“You’re really gonna eat all that?” Simon asked, eyeing the mountain of food on your plate.

“You’d be surprised with how much a can eat.” After Simon got his plate you guys sat down at his dining room table. He poured you both a glass of orange juice.

The two of you just ate in silence for a bit before Simon cleared his throat. “Wanna tell me why you were here last night?”

You frowned, knowing this conversation was bound to happen eventually. “Not really.” You promised that you would tell Simon everything if he was here when you showed up, but he wasn’t. He was still gone and you were hysterical when you made that promise to yourself, so it didn’t really count.

You’d already kept your secret for so long and the last time you told someone they let you down. Now you’re to afraid to have someone you care about let you down that you choose not to tell people

“Well how about you tell me how you even got in here last night?”

“Picked the lock.” You said, despite your mouth being full. That was one piece of information you were comfortable with sharing.

“Why were you crying?”

You dropped your fork, tired of his prying despite him only asking three questions. “Got into a fight with my brother.”

“You fight with your brother all the time, why’d you come over here?” You couldn’t tell Simon how broke down after the fight and punched a hole in the wall in your room.

You shook your head, letting him know you wouldn’t answer that question. “What happened to your hand?” You frowned, you were worried that he would notice, Simon was many things and dumb was not one.

“Punched a wall.”

“Why?” You dropped your fork pushing your chair back, before standing up ready to leave.

“This was a mistake, I should’ve never came.” You rushed back to his room, grabbing your stuff. He followed, placing his fork down too.

“You can’t just show up here clearly upset and expect me not to ask questions!” Simon yelled, not sure how to handle situations like this.

“Why you never asked questions before, that’s why I came. We don’t ask questions!”

You exclaimed throwing up your hands. “Why do you care all of the sudden?” You yelled. Shoving past him since he was blocking the door way, he grabbed your elbow, stopping you.

“That’s not true and you know it.” He said his words growing softer. Did you really think he didn’t care? If he didn’t care he wouldn’t play chess with you every week. He wouldn’t have ever shown you where he lived. He wouldn’t have let you into his life if he didn’t care. How could you think he didn’t care about you? Of course he cared, he loved you. You were the closest thing he had to family outside of the task force.

“Really? Why haven’t you ever asked about my home life? Why don’t you come to any of my games?” You were crying again, eyes red and puffy with tears streaming down your face. “You don’t care. No one cares, not you, not my friends, not even my mom cares.”

“I care.”

You shook your head, clearly not believing him “no you don’t.” You kept repeating it.

“Yes I do!” He said getting on his knees so he could look up at you since you wouldn’t look up at him. “What’s wrong pretty girl? You’ve never acted like this. What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

“I can’t tell you.” You sobbed.

“Yes you can, you can tell me anything.”

“No” you kept repeating as you shook your head. “Please, I can’t. You’ll be disgusted by me.”

“No, that’s not true.” Simon pleaded, just wanting you to believe. Simon tried to think of a way he could get you to tell him. “What if you write it down?”

You shook your head. “Draw?” You shook your head no again. That’s when he thought of it. “Morse code? You can tap me and tell me”

You sniffled, Simon had taught you Morse code saying it was good in case you ever needed help or needed to say something without anyone else hearing.

You nodded, as Simon gave you his hand.

..

.-- .- ...

.-. .- .--. . -..

Simons heart broke as he released what you’d just said. He didn’t know what to say. Maybe he’d translated it wrong. Maybe you messed up.

“You were raped?” Simon asked, his voice so quiet he could barely hear himself.

You just closed your eyes nodding. Not wanting to look at him. He pulled you down into his arms, hugging you like you were dying.

He felt like he was dying. This was worse than any pain he’d ever gone through. He’d rather be torture for the rest of his life than ever hear you say those 3 words.

You sobbed in his arms as Simon held you. Simon didn’t even realize he was crying until one of his tears dropped onto your grey shirt. “Who was it?” Simon asked after a few minutes.

“My brothers dad.”

“Your moms boyfriend?” Simon asked, even though he already knew the answer. You nodded into his chest.

“When did this happen?”

“Throughout elementary school.”

“It happened multiple times?”

“Yeah.”

“Does your mom know?”

“Yes.” You whispered. Simon was enraged, you lived with this man. You were about to start your senior year. If your mom knew why was he still living with you. “I told her in middle school.” Simons teeth clenched as he tried to hide his anger.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Simon whispered, not even realizing he’d let the words slip.

He was up and at his closet entering the code in his safe, before you even realized his words. “Simon don’t, he’s not worth it!” You pleaded, as he shoved his gun in his waist band.

“Of course he’s worth it, he hurt you!”

“Simon, he still my brothers dad! You can’t kill my brothers dad, he’s just a kid. He won’t understand.” Simon stood in the hallway, trying to decide what to do. All he could see was red, “please.”

Simon let out one last breath, “are you sure, cause I know over a hundred ways to kill someone and make it look like an accident.”

“I promise, it’s okay. I’ve been living with him for years.”

“You shouldn’t have too, your mom should’ve kicked him out or done something at least.”

“I know, trust me I’ve thought about that. But she’s never going to, she’s too weak.”

“You-“ Simon was cut off by your phone ringing.

“It’s my mom, she’s wondering when I’ll be home.” You explained.

“Never, you’re not going back there. You’re staying with me. I’ll kill him before you ever go back to a mother that couldn’t protect you and a man that hurt you.”

“My stuffs all there.”

“We’ll get it back. I have a spare room you can stay in.”

“I can’t leave her, she still pays for a lot of my stuff and as much as I hate it I’m dependent on her.” You’d thought about leaving plenty of times, but you had nothing. You worked a part time job since you were in school, but it wasn’t enough to pay for everything.

“I’m not taking no for an answer. I have money, I can take care of you. I can protect you.” Simon reassured. The thought of you going back to that house made him want to throw up and murder someone at the same time.

“Simon, I don’t want to be a burden. Plus you’re gone for months on end.”

“I’ll switch to the reserves.” You couldn’t up root Simons life it wasn’t fair. You should’ve never told him, not only was it affecting your life but I was now affecting his too. “Please, I can’t let you go back there. I need to know you’re safe.”

You wanted to say no, but isn’t this what you had been looking for? Someone to keep you safe. A place where you didn’t have to worry about someone coming into your room at night. A place that felt like home, cause if you’re being honest Simon was the only person that gave you any sort of feeling of being home.

That’s why you waited at the park everyday from 2-3 to see if he was back from his mission. You only truly smiled around him. You only felt safe around him. Simon was the only man that you’d truly ever felt safe around.

Being with Simon felt like finally standing on steady ground.

“I don’t want to mess up your life. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You aren’t.” You’re making it better. Simon wanted to add on, but he refrained. The truth was you gave him a reason to fight. When missions were hard, he’d think about playing chess with you. He’d thinking about you guys grabbing ice cream when you beat him and dinner if you’d let it slip that you hadn’t eaten lunch. He’d think about the cookies you made him. He’d think about the new books you’d recommend him. He’d think about the art galleries you’d drag him to. He’d think about songs you introduced him to. He’d think about the coffee shop you liked to do your homework in while he read. He’d think about the libraries you liked to go to after losing to him in chess. He’d think about how you were the only person to have a photo of him. How you were on of the only people he’d take him mask off around.

You were his reason for getting out of those missions alive.

Maybe deep down he knew you always needed him. Maybe it was the other way around and he needed you.

He didn’t know, but what he did know what that you would never be a burden to him.

“If I stay, how does this work?”

Simon didn’t know the answer to your question. He had never been responsible for anyone. He didn’t know how everything would work, but he did know what he’d figure it out. One day at a time.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. But I’ll make it work.”

You took a deep breath. Tears were still falling down your cheeks.

Simon didn’t process your words until you were throwing your self into his arms, crying into his chest again. He held you, he’d hold you for as long as you needed. He knew now as you spoke those words that he’d always be there for you.

“I’ll stay.”

He didn’t know what the future would hold, but he’d make damn sure you had a better life than you’d previously had.

One day at a time, he’d work on mending the broken pieces of you.

One day at a time, you’d work on mending the broken pieces of him.

The two of you would heal each other, even if you didn’t know it in that moment.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

interlude (b.r.b./j.h.s.)

a/n: i posted the first half of this months ago and it seemed to do fairly well so i'm posting the rest of it now that it's finished... enjoy.

summary: You're afraid that all you'll ever be to your boys is an interlude.

warnings: insecurities, polyamory relationship, swearing, angst

word count: 3.4k

in-ter-lude

noun

“an intervening period of time”

The bed is cold. 

It’s the first thing he notices as the gray morning light bleeds through the blinds. He groans, turning over in the bed as he blindly reaches out to find you. 

His hand just meets colder sheets, a hint of warmth emanating from Bradley if he reaches a little bit farther. 

The cold sheets don’t surprise him, even as he sits up in the bed, blinking at Bradley’s sleeping figure. Bradley’s out, dead to the world, sleeping like a rock, per usual. 

Jake slips out from the cold covers, lacking your usual warmth. The coldness doesn’t phase him, not anymore. 

Most days they found you up long before the sun, pacing the kitchen, or nursing a cup of cold coffee at the kitchen table, or tucked under the sheer blanket tossed on the couch for decoration. The bed so often lacked your usual warmth, but so did you, the light dimming in your eyes as you retreated further and further into yourself as the days went by. 

It concerned him, the way you were slipping through his fingers like smoke as the days went by, something he could never quite catch, no matter how hard he tried. 

Getting stationed at Miramar should’ve brought you all closer together, not driven you further apart. 

Jake shivers, stopping by the thermostat to turn on the heat as he winces at the cold hardwood of Bradley’s home against his bare feet. 

He really hopes you had half a mind to grab one of their sweatshirts or sweatpants before disappearing down here this morning. He hopes you’ve grabbed one of the thicker blankets from the coat closet by the front door that they keep for movie nights. He hopes you’ve made yourself a cup of warm tea like you used to instead of letting your coffee go cold. 

The sight of you not at the couch doesn’t surprise him, nor does the empty kitchen. It’s the sight of both of them void of life that does. 

He peeks his head out the kitchen window, wondering if perhaps you’ve migrated outside. 

It’s the driveway that’s one car emptier than usual that makes his gut turn, concern and panic alighting in his stomach. 

“Bradley!”

-

You aren’t really sure when things began to feel off.

Well, that’s not entirely true. 

You knew exactly when the seed had been planted. 

It had been early on, the relationship still new as the three of you fumbled and stumbled in explaining the dynamic to others, especially those who had known Bradley and Jake when it had been just Bradley and Jake. 

A night out at the Hard Deck was meant to be a fun, a happy conclusion to a rather long week. 

“One might say you’re nothing but a bed warmer for Bradshaw while Seresin’s gone.” The pilot had said.

The consideration you’d given the words had been fleeting at the time, Bradley pulling you into a dizzying kiss that had you forgetting the words as quickly as the man had said them. 

But the words had remained tucked aside and revealing themselves over time, targeting your worst fears. 

That one day your boys would realize they didn’t want to be yours anymore, that this interlude in their relationship had been nothing more than a fun experiment, a phase in their lives before they settled down for more. 

And it was selfish of you to stay when you knew that you were someone who was there in the times when Jake couldn’t be, that you were only filling a gap that would no longer need to be filled once Jake decided to remain on the ground for good. 

It wasn’t fair to you. Or them, either really. Letting them live in this false reality where you were the perfect match. 

You loved them. You did.

But sometimes you thought they loved the idea more than they ever really loved you. 

-

You hadn’t been expecting the day to come so soon.

You knew that it would come eventually, that one day you would no longer be able to run from what you had known for months, that every day you spent loving them and every night you spent in between them was a blessing. 

It wasn’t something you took for granted, became something you treasured the longer time went on as you knew you were getting closer and closer to the end. 

You had just been, foolishly, hoping for more time.

Time, a fickle thing.

Jake hums into your bare shoulder as his fingers trace nonsensical patterns into your shoulder. Distantly, you both can hear Bradley clattering around in the kitchen as he attempts to make you all a belated breakfast after spending the morning in bed. 

Jake would be leaving in the morning for a new deployment and there was only so much time to engrain every curve of Jake’s body into your memory before you would go without it for three months. 

“I can hear you thinking from here.” You tease and you feel the curve of Jake’s mouth move upwards against your skin. 

“I was just wondering…” He trails off, pressing a kiss to the skin. “How would you feel if this was the last deployment?”

Your stomach sinks, even as you desperately try to hold on to the rapidly fraying threads of hope that the day you’ve dreaded isn’t finally upon you. 

“What do you mean?” You ask in a whispered voice, thankful you’re faced away from the man. 

“I’m taking a permanent position at Miramar with Bradley. Looks like I’m going to be stateside for a while.”

You swallow, feeling your blood run ice cold at the words. 

Three months. You had three months, maybe four, with them as yours. And then… and then they would remember why they didn’t have a third before you. You would have served your purpose. You would no longer be needed and they would be kind to you about it, not so callous and cruel as to toss you out, but it would be clear that your paths were diverging.

You’ve taken too long to respond to Jake and he must be nervous about your reaction because you can feel the slight tremble of his fingers against your skin as they resume their patterns. 

“Whatever makes you happiest, honey. I’ll be right here.”

-

Bradley’s biggest insecurity is one he’ll never say out loud, too afraid of breathing life into the fears. 

He sees the way you are with Jake, how soft you are with him, the warmth Jake only seems to bring out of you. 

He often wonders if that softness is better suited to what Jake needs, that one day Jake will realize he needs soft more than he needs push-and-pull, you need Jake more than you need Bradley. 

Jake’s only been gone for two weeks when you begin to pull away. 

Bradley notices, because of course he does. He notices everything he can about you, because he knows that to be known is to be loved and that all you’ve ever wanted is to be known by someone. 

He notices, because you roll over away from him in bed, not wanting to stay up and talk to him. He notices, because you don’t stay long enough to shower with him before work in the morning. He notices, because you’ve gone back to wearing your own sweatshirts instead of theirs. He notices, because you spend less nights at theirs than you used to, creating a house filled with ghosts. 

And he wishes he could say that he knew you were just missing Jake. 

But he knew what missing Jake looked like. When you missed Jake, you pulled in closer to Bradley, seeking out his stability, the consistent reassurance that he would always be there that the job at Top Gun offered. 

This went deeper than that. 

And Bradley couldn’t help but turn in, wondering what it was he had done to make the change in you. 

-

In some ways, you thought it would be easier this way. To say goodbye to them before you were forced to. To prepare yourself for the break, to try to learn how to live without them before they made that decision for you. 

In many ways, it was harder. 

You craved Bradley’s touch, hated the ache in your soul every time you got further away when he tried to get closer. 

You couldn’t remember the last time the two of you had had dinner together, basking in the warmth of each other’s company as you danced around the kitchen, fingers sticky from pasta sauce as you inevitably abandoned the food to make out against the stove. 

You miss the twinkly in Bradley’s eyes, his mussed hair, the way his cheeks colored red enough to matching the lingering marinara. 

You can’t remember the last time the two of you hunkered down on a Saturday to work together, eventually only completing a fraction of what needed to be done as the two of you came up with every excuse to not do the essays and homework assignments and lesson plans. 

Jake had always been the one to keep you both on task, anyways. 

You missed Bradley, craved for him in the same way you did Jake while he was deployed. 

But yet, this was different. Because Bradley was right there, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to cross the line you had drawn and go to him. 

I’m telling you Jake. She’s been different since you’ve been gone. 

“How’s school?” 

You raise your head, catching Jake watching you from the other end of the couch. He’s got a nervous smile on his face, the fingers clutching the neck of his beer bottle a bit too tightly being the dead give away to his concern. You stare at him, almost wondering if there’s someone else he’d be asking. 

There isn’t, only you and Jake in the room. You can hear Bradley in the kitchen, rattling off the takeout order for the local Chinese place down the street from the boys house. It’s your favorite, though you know Jake’d much rather be having burgers for his first night back. 

“How’s school going? You’re almost finished with your thesis, right?” 

Jake knows the answer, that you’re two months and a final defense away from completing your degree. 

You also know he’s trying to make conversation, trying to push around and see if he can't figure out what’s been bugging you without ever really asking. Find out why, according to Bradley, you’ve been off.

You shrug, looking away from Jake’s sea-glass eyes that can always read you too well. 

You hear Jake shift on the couch when Bradley hangs up the phone, leaving the kitchen. “Chinese should be here in about thirty minutes. What Real Housewives franchise did we decide on?”

-

He can hear Bradley groan as he takes the stairs two at a time, heart beating through his chest. 

You’ve never left on Sundays. 

Sundays were your day together. 

Like clockwork, the three of you would have a slow morning in bed. You always bemoan the fact that the boys couldn’t keep their hands to themselves, but they knew that you secretly loved the way they actually had time to savor your body in the way they felt it should be. 

You’d all have breakfast together, hanging out on the couch in a tangle of limbs as you watched cartoons. It was Bradley’s idea, the first time you had done it, the child at heart that he is. 

Then Jake and Bradley would go for a run. You’d do the laundry and tidy the house from the week. Get it ready for the next. 

And then the boys would come home, all sweaty and gross and give you kisses on your cheek as you cringed and complained that they smelled. 

They knew you loved it anyways. Loved them anyways. 

After coaxing you into the shower with them through all your reluctance and hesitation, they’d take a thoroughly delightful detour before Jake would make you all lunch. 

Maybe in the afternoon, you’d all try to bake a new pastry, or watch one of the sports games on television, or take naps in the sun on the couch. 

And then you’d get takeout from somewhere, soaking up the last few hours of one another’s company before the week started over. 

It was all so domestic and intimate, so uniquely yours. 

You didn’t live with the boys (not yet anyways, they’d been trying their damndest), but despite all that, you never missed Sundays with them. 

Sundays were the one day that were yours and yours alone, living in a bubble where nothing could touch you. 

And you were gone. 

It felt like an ending Jake hadn’t ever seen coming, an iron punch to the gut that has him doubled over, one he couldn’t avoid no matter how hard he tried. 

He enters the bedroom as Bradley looks at him, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. 

“She’s not here.” 

Bradley glances at the empty bed, giving a soft shrug of his shoulders as he falls back under the covers. 

“Jake-” 

“No, she’s not here. She’s gone.” 

Bradley freezes, looking at him. The fear is evident on his face, that you’ve left them for good. 

For all Bradley had tried to get answers out of you, Jake had backed off, letting you have your space. In turn, Jake found you spending more time with him than you did Bradley. 

He knew that for all the million conversations he’d had with you since being home, they’d all been nothing more than surface level. He could see that your guard was up, that you were there but weren’t really there. 

But he didn’t look at you like Bradley did, with that knowing look in his eye. 

And the more Bradley pushed, the further away you got. 

And Jake feared that Bradley was going to push you right out the door. 

And he knew Bradley feared it too. 

“Where are you going?” Bradley calls after him as he slips back down the stairs. 

“To bring our girl home.” 

-

The knocking at your door startles you out of your daze and you pull yourself from the couch, socks sliding against the shitty wood of your apartment floor as you walk over to it. The door reveals a tense Jake and an apprehensive Bradley standing behind him. 

You blink. “Hello?” 

“You left.” 

Jake’s tone is blunt, no room left for argument. 

“Okay?” You say, clutching the edge of the door tighter. “Am I your hostage now? Not allowed to leave the premises?” 

“It’s Sunday.” Bradley speaks, tone much softer than Jake’s. “We always spend Sunday together.” 

You sigh, turning. The boys follow you into the too-small apartment, one of them shutting the door as you sit at the kitchen island. 

“I had to work on my thesis.” 

It’s not untrue. 

Books are scattered over your counter, your laptop sitting open with a nearly final draft on the screen but it hadn’t been the reason you’d left before both the boys were awake this morning. 

But if they asked, you weren’t even sure you could explain why you had left this morning, just that you woke up feeling like you needed to. 

“So? You could’ve done that at our place.” Jake shoots back, his words still cutting with an edge you weren't used to being on the receiving end of. 

Bradley puts his hands out as if to placate the man. “Okay. Okay. I think that we have reached the point where we need to talk.” 

We need to talk.

Your head hangs at the words, a lump already growing in your throat. 

Bradley walks to the opposite side of the island, trying to catch your eye. “You’ve been pulling away from us. Ever since Jake told you he’d be settling at Miramar permanently, you’ve been weird. Why?” 

You shrug, unable to meet his eye as tears begin to sting. The tip of your nose has that familiar itch too, and it’s all you can do to not break down in front of them as you play with the strings of your hoodie. 

Bradley rounds the counter, sitting down in the chair next to you. Jake takes his place leaning on the counter from you. Bradley hesitates briefly before setting his hand on your bare thigh, rubbing slow circles into the skin with his thumb. 

“Please talk to us, sweetheart.” 

You reach up, rubbing the edge of your nose with the sleeve of your sweatshirt before sighing. 

“Some days… Some days, I feel like I’m nothing more than a bed warmer for you.” 

“Where the hell did you get that idea?” 

“Jake.” Bradley reprimands, squeezing your thigh. “Sweetheart, wh- where did we ever show that? We love you.” 

You sniff, glancing up at the ceiling. “Back- back when we started this, there was a night where we were at the Hard Deck. Some guy said to me that I was just a bedwarmer for you while Jake was gone. That that’s all I’d ever be.”

“And you believed him?” 

“Jake.” Bradley says again, shooting him a look to which Jake responds by throwing his hands up in the air and walking away from the counter. 

“Not at first.” You admit, shaking your head. “But- the two of you were together before me. And I knew that there would be a day where the two of you would go back to wanting it to be just the two of you. And I knew that day would come when Jake wasn’t spending months at a time halfway around the world. You don’t need me anymore.”

“Don’t- don’t need you anymore?” Jake asks incredulously, walking back t​​o where he’d been standing. “Darling, of course we need you. You complete us, you’re everything we want.” 

A tear trickles down your face as you meet his sea-glass eyes. You pay it no mind as Jake continues talking again. “Yes, yeah, Bradley and I were together before you came along. And yeah, that was fun and where we needed to be during that time of our lives. But darling, you don’t get it. You complete us. It’s important to me that you know that. And maybe we don’t say it enough or show it enough, but God, if it was just Brad and I again, we’d kill each other.” 

“That’s a bit harsh.” Bradley mutters. 

The only sign Jake gives that he heard Bradley’s words is a roll of his eyes, continuing to speak. “Darling, you balance us. You give us both exactly what we need. You give me space to be vulnerable, to allow myself to feel like even after all the shit I’ve done, I’m still worthy of being loved. You match Bradley’s kindness tit-for-tat and the two of you can laugh hours into the night, I know. Bradley and I- we’ve had our issues, our fights and our screaming matches and our nasty insults. And with you, we don’t do that.” 

Bradley squeezes your thigh again. “Where Jake’s going with this sweetheart, is that Jake and I have both been through our own shit. And I know you have too, I’m not denying that. But when it was just Jake and I, it was a 110 percent all the time or nothing at all. And with you, we’ve been able to slow down, remember what’s important to us. That this is built on a foundation of love. Of trust and communication. And that foundation starts to fall apart if you don’t talk to us.” 

You sniff, looking down at your hands. “I’m sorry.” Your voice is watery as a few more tears slip over. 

“You think I still don’t have my fears? That maybe you and Jake will decide you’re better off together just the two of you than with me? That maybe the two of you will just become two more people in my life who have left?” 

“I didn't know that.” Jake admits softly, his shoulders deflating. 

Bradley gives a half shrug. “Was too scared to say anything. Didn’t want to find out that I was right.” 

You sniff again, the tears threatening to overwhelm you.

You were so overwhelmed by all of it. By Bradley’s admission of his own fears, that he didn’t see how loved he was, how much you needed him in the same way you needed Jake. By their equal professions of love for you. 

Jake finally rounds the counter, to come sit on the other barstool next to you. He pushes some hair away from your face, pressing a tender to kiss to your forehead and swiping away your tears.

“This isn’t just an interlude for us, darling. You’re our future.” 

[cherriegyuu]

Hi! Can I request an angst fic with seunghceol which starts because he forgot a date?

Thank you so much!

i hope you like it! sorry it took me forever

when he forgets a date

pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader

genre: angst

word count: 912

warnings: none

The apartment felt oddly cold. The heater was on but you still didn’t get warm. Though the thermostat was close enough you just couldn't bring yourself to get up and adjust it. Everything inside of you just felt sort of empty inside and you couldn’t even understand why. 

You had expected it and yet you had gotten your hopes up. It wasn’t the first time Seungcheol missed one of your dates. Every time something like that happened he would show up a few hours later, flowers in hand — from god knows where — and a charming smile on his face. And at every single turn, you forgave him. 

His excuses were always all over the place and you never thought much of it. Seungcheol is just busy, you told yourself. As time went by he missed more dates and that initial thought started to crumble. Sure, Seungcheol was busy but he still had plenty of time for his friends, to go out golfing with them, drinking with them.

That was when your mind started to go to dark places and you really felt as if you were small and someone who he never really cared about. And then, you started to think that he was cheating. That feeling of not being enough was all over you. Maybe it was pathetic or just your ego but also couldn’t stop. 

So you decided to give him just one more chance, you could give him that much. If not for the dates, Seungcheol was a good boyfriend, caring and loving. That’s why you always felt bad whenever you thought that he was being anything but a good boyfriend. 

But do good boyfriends miss all of their most recent dates with their significant others, even though they talked on the phone earlier and seemed excited? 

You laid down on the couch pulling the cover that was at your feed up so that it would cover your body. Taking a deep breath, you tried to force your mind to rest. There was no point in thinking the worst, at least for now. You did what you could, what you thought was best. You had gotten the reservations, got ready, and left on time. Gave him all the directions he needed, and sent him a map to find the restaurant more easily. 

Instead of waiting for Seungcheol outside and risking losing the reservation, you waited inside. You called him, texted, called him again, called his office. It was as if your phone had stopped working. You even tried calling your friend to see if she would pick up. When she did, you just apologized and said that you called the wrong number and chatted with her for a minute. 

You decided that you would have dinner regardless, it was a good restaurant after all. The food would have probably tasted better if your mood wasn’t so horrible. The waiter looked at you with pity in his eyes so you asked for the check and left.

Seungcheol hadn’t answered any of your calls your texts, so you doubted that he would call or show up anytime soon. The only thing you could do was try to sleep and figure everything out tomorrow.

You had just managed to sleep when you were awakened by the sound of someone knocking on your door. The sun was already up and the living room was clear with sunlight. There was only one possible person to be knocking on your door. You got up, opened the door, and went back to the couch. 

“yn, I know you’re pissed” Seungcheol said, closing the door behind him and joining you on the couch “ and you have every right to be. But listen to me…”

You scoffed, resting your chin on your knee. 

“Let’s hear it then. What happened this time? Was it work? Did one of your friends have diarrhea and needed you to clean their butt for them? Were you with someone else?”

Seungcheol looked at you with wide eyes, desperate. He knew where this was going, what you were going to do and say but he was trying to hold on for dear life. 

“I know you’re angry, I know” 

He tried to hold your face but you pulled back, he tried to hold your hands but you also pulled away.

“I’m not angry or pissed. I’m tired, Seungcheol”

Shaking your head, you stood up. You thought about it, for hours, during the entire night and you had made your decision. 

“Since we started this, whatever it was” you waved your hands between him and you “I gave you all I had, all that I am. Although I can’t say that you didn’t do the same at first, it all changed after some time. And it’s fine if your feelings changed, it sucks but it happens. I really wish you could have told me when it did”

It was Seungcheol’s turn to shake his head. This time, when he reached for you, you didn’t pull back.

“It didn’t change, I promise. I still feel the same way I did back then. It’s just that I have been on my own my entire life, I don’t really know how to do this”

You laughed, not really believing in what you were hearing from him.

“Then I guess you’re not really the man I thought you were then” 

You pulled back from him and took three steps back. 

“Don’t push me away” he begged.

“You should go”

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[shina913]

Cold Snap | CSC

Cold Snap

Pairing: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞

Genre: Established relationship; domestic au; fluff

Warnings: some teasing; allusions to sex

Word count: 1K words

Summary: You wake up and realize that your apartment's heater broke again.

A/N: Just a little something to break my writing drought. Dedicated to my friends, @/roaminginthenights and @/yoongukie-ff who have contributed to my most recent Cheol brainrot. Enjoy!

You wake up slowly, feeling a sudden chill in the air. It was still dark out and you wonder if it's just your imagination or a lingering dream. But when your teeth start to chatter, you realize that the room feels colder than it did when you went to bed.

Despite some upgrades over the years, certain aspects of your old apartment building remained on the 'vintage' side – including the heating system. Recently, your building manager repaired the radiator valves in your unit. They had been malfunctioning when you tried to turn them on during random cool days in the fall.

And because all weather reports in your area warned the public about a record-setting drop in temperatures this season, you needed the heaters to work, most especially on a day like today—the official first day of winter.

You roll over onto your side and interrupt Seungcheol's rhythmic snoring with a nudge.

His drowsiness is replaced by concern when he sees your bottom lip quivering. "What's wrong?"

"Did you turn the heater off?"

He immediately snorts at your accusatory tone. "Me? No, that’s all you, babe."

Seungcheol typically felt cold easily while your internal body temperature ran warmer. You suggested that he get thicker blankets or try sleeping in additional layers of clothing. Instead, he preferred to turn up the thermostat so he could sleep comfortably in his boxers. You, being the more cost-effective-minded half of this relationship, would switch it off in the middle of the night to save money on your energy bill.

However, last night was no joke! You didn’t mind the heater running all night.

"I didn't. It was freezing so I kept it on!"

"Welcome to my world." Before he rolls over to go back to sleep, you grab onto his shirt.

"Can you please check the valve? I think it broke again."

He shakes his head. “That’s impossible. We just got it fixed!”

“Just double-check, please?” You give him your best puppy-eye look, not wanting to leave the warm confines of your blankets.

He sighs and gives a quick nod before getting out of bed.

As soon as he is out of the warm sheets and feels the cold air on his bare chest, he curses under his breath. Before taking another step, he retrieves his hoodie from the nearby chair where he had tossed it the night before.

After putting it on, he makes his way toward the radiator on the other side of the room. He crouches down to inspect the valve.

"Huh. That's weird," he murmurs.

Before you can ask about what he noticed, he stands up and walks into the living room to check the controls there.

A minute later, he returns, visibly frustrated. He picks up his cellphone from the nightstand and makes a call.

“You’re right. It’s broken again,” he huffs, preparing to leave a voicemail for your building manager about the broken heating system in your unit.

There’s something about him taking control like this that turns you on. He stands by his side of the bed, in his boxers and hoodie, with a calm but stern voice.

It was the same voice he used when you permitted him to boss you around in bed. Another chill travels down your spine but not from the cold.

When he hangs up, he reaches for his joggers, which were laid on the same chair he reclaimed his hoodie from, and slips back into bed with you.

“Fucking nightmare,” he grunted. “Too bad it’s the weekend and we can’t get this fixed right away. Guess we’ll have stop by the store to grab a couple of space heaters right when it opens.”

Unfortunately, that wasn’t for another few hours.

As he buries himself deeper into the cozy comfort of your sheets, a shiver runs down his spine due to the draft that envelops your apartment. ”We can’t live like this,” he pouts.

With a mischievous smile playing on your lips, you respond, "You know, there’s another way we can warm up and make the most out of this situation while we wait for the stores to open."

“And what’s that?” He mumbles curiously from under the collar of his hoodie.

You scoot closer to him, wedging one arm between his body and the mattress, and encircle his waist with the other. Then, you gently slide your hand up underneath his hoodie.

“Ahh, your hands feel like ice!” he squeaks in surprise, his body stiffening at the contact.

“Or maybe they’ll warm up quicker if I go this way?” You slide both hands lower, past his waistband to palm his ass cheeks.

"Okay, okay! I get your point!" he half-yelps and chuckles at your mischief.

When his laughter subsides, he asks, "Wouldn't this be more effective with direct skin-on-skin contact? Like...without clothes on?"

The way he catches his lower lip with his teeth and cocks his eyebrow makes your pulse quicken.

You pretend to be ignorant, saying, "Well, I'm no scientist, so I wouldn't really know." You give his cheeks another firm squeeze.

"Well then, we should find out." He moves away slightly from your touch, just enough to remove his hoodie. "You know, for science!"

You suppress a laugh, fully aware of his playful intentions. “And if it doesn't work?”

He kicks off his boxers and pulls you flush against him. “Then I know a foolproof way for us to work up a sweat.”

When he nestles into your neck and begins kissing you, you let out a sigh, melting into him. You barely notice him removing your bottoms.

He hums and pulls your top up and over your head. The moment your bare skin touches his, a wave of sensation rushes through your body, causing you to gasp.

"I mean, if it's for science," you moan in acquiescence.

As his kisses trail down to your breasts, he asks, "Are you warm enough now?"

"Why don't you move a little lower and we'll reassess then?"

He laughs softly against your skin but doesn't object. Instead, he does what he’s told, and you spend the next few hours tangled up in bed until sunrise.

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Thank you so much for reading!

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