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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 4 years ago

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Don’t Go Baking My Heart || Seokjin

Pairing: Seokjin x reader

Summary: You fall in love with Kim Seokjin’s bakery after wandering into it to take advantage of the post-Valentine’s Day discount on the chocolates. Maybe it’s the owner’s bad jokes, maybe it’s the other regulars, maybe it’s the delicious pastries. Or maybe there’s something more that keeps you coming back to that shop.

Also available on Ao3.

Word count: 14.7k

Genre: Strangers (to Friends) to Lovers, Bakery AU, tooth-rotting Fluff, some smut

Warnings & Tags: mentions of insecurities and of former relationships, smut (vaginal sex, oral [male receiving], fingering), Jin makes Bad Jokes, Valentine’s Day themed

A/N: Soooo this was supposed to come out for Valentine’s Day, but it wasn’t ready then, so you guys get it now instead! I’m bad with puns so I definitely had to look online for those used in this oops. Finally, I’d like to give a big thank you to the amazing @elidebrey who actually worked in a bakery shop and told me all about (I’m sorry you guys ran out of milk all the time). She’s an amazing writer and you should check her out if you like the Batfam! Hope you’ll enjoy this one-shot!

February 15th

You first walk into Kim Seokjin’s bakery the day after Valentine’s Day. Your eye was caught by the chocolates and cakes you noticed on sale from the outside, and also the name of the place, The Rolling Scones, which is either genius or terrible, you can’t pick. The door bell chimes happily, first when you push the door open and then when it closes behind you.

The place is empty. There’s no one behind the counter, and you find yourself hesitating there for a second, both arms behind your back like a shy schoolgirl — which you once were, but that was a while ago now. Natural light, the cold sun of February, is falling through the bay windows, and the place is cute, clearly decorated with love and care. It makes you feel just a little warmer inside.

Since no one seems to be showing up, you take your time to look at the display. You’ve spent the past week crying over the end of your two year relationship, and you’re desperately craving something sweet and sugary to fill the hole in your heart and in your life. Post Valentine’s Day discount is definitely the best way to do that.

If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you knew this relationship was never going to be your forever. It was just a nice and comfortable situation to be in, and you expected you and him to part ways at some point.

You just didn’t particularly expect it to be now.

“Jungkook!” a strong voice shouts from the back of the shop, startling you. It’s quickly followed by a curse, and then a man walks in, glancing back with a worried expression, tying an apron around his waist and adjusting a small black hat on his head. You notice the ‘Jungkook’ tag on his apron, and it makes you soften in sympathy. The second his eyes fall on you, he recomposes himself, and shoots you a smile that’s professional, though the nervousness doesn’t quite disappear. “What can I do for you?”

“I was just looking,” you say, and he leans forward, probably straining to hear. Your voice has always had that weird tendency to become inaudible when you’re talking to strangers. “You don’t have anything with strawberries, do you?”

“I’m afraid everything we had went yesterday,” he says with a sympathetic frown.

“Oh, right,” you mumble. You’re disappointed to a stupid degree, and you know it’s because your emotions have been running wild recently, to the point where any small contrariety threatens to make you cry. Fortunately, you don’t, right now. That would be horribly embarrassing. “Um, I guess I’ll take that box and, uh, the éclair, please, then.”

“Of course!”

His movements are quick and precise as he takes it out, and you could be mistaken, but you think he’s deliberately not looking at you. You’re not particularly blaming him for it, though, because you’re doing the exact same thing.

“Anything else?” he asks once he’s done, and you shake your head, avoiding eye contact. “For here or to go? We’re also a café,” he elaborates when you give him a surprised — and slightly panicked — glance.

“Oh. To go, please,” you say, not so much because you actually want to, and much more because you’re bad at changing your plans when you had already made your decision.

Except… You eye the bakery. It’s not like you have anyone to come back to, and you don’t particularly want to be back at your apartment to wallow alone. You might even get some things done while you’re here.

“Um, actually, would you mind if I…?” The question dies on your lips. You’re already feeling too embarrassed to continue, but he looks up, eyes wide, and nods.

“No, no, please take a seat! Do you want something to drink as well?”

“That— That would be nice, actually.”

“Alright, just give me a second and I’ll bring you our, er, menu.”

It’s not a menu, it’s a list of drinks the owner printed and coated with plastic, and insists on calling a menu, but he isn’t going to tell you that.

You pick a table that faces the door, and after choosing and ordering your tea, pull out your computer. It’s not that the things you have to do can’t wait, but you don’t like sitting alone doing nothing. The shop is desperately empty, and part of you is terrified by the idea that Jungkook could come over to talk to you. That would probably end up not being completely unpleasant, but you’re not sure you can handle that much interaction with other human beings right now.

While scrolling through the text you are currently working on editing, you pick a chocolate out of the box to eat it and hold back a satisfied moan at the taste. The fact that it’s so good makes you feel a little more upset that you’ve never been in a relationship for Valentine’s Day and therefore have never been given anything like that.

It’s always been bad luck really, because you’ve been in a few relationships, but even with your last boyfriend, the two of you were on a break in February. The others never made it longer than a few months, and never fell at the right time. It’s not even like you want to celebrate Valentine’s Day, you do think it’s mostly a commercial holiday, and you definitely don’t want any expensive gift, but you’d be happy to have someone by your side to make fun of other couples with. Someone to love you, and someone to love.

God, you want to be in love so bad. For a few months, you thought you had it with your ex, and maybe you did, for a moment, but it had slipped from your fingers without you managing to do anything about it, leaving you sad and empty. You want to feel everything the movies and books promised, the butterflies in the stomach, the rush in the beat of your heart. You want to feel like someone holds your world in their hands. You want them to love you back — really love you, so much that you’ll catch them looking at you and see it in their eyes immediately, so much that they’ll remember how you like your tea in the morning.

You don’t think your ex ever loved you, and you don’t really blame him for that. He liked you, certainly, and for a long time that was enough for you. But now, with it being over and him telling you he’d ‘met someone’, you want more out of your next relationship.

Then again, you’d thought that last time as well.

You’re grateful when Jungkook brings you your tea, tearing you away from thoughts you really don’t want to be having right now. He gives you a smile, then is quick to retreat back behind the counter, and something tells you that he has the same difficulties talking to people as you do.

That can’t make his job fun.

You’re soon able to immerse yourself in your work, much to your surprise. Usually, you’re hyper aware of your surroundings, and it’s hard to get work done unless you’re in a place that’s both quiet and familiar, but the atmosphere in here is so warm and pleasant that you’re able to relax and focus, all while drinking your tea and eating your sweets. It’s quite close to perfect, actually.

Which is why you jump violently when someone’s voice booms into the shop.

“Jeon Jungkook!”

You look up, panicked, and Jungkook turns around with the exact same look on his face. You don’t remember the doorbell ringing, so it has to be someone from the shop, and indeed, a tall man with short black hair walks in from the same place Jungkook entered. And your brain short-circuits.

It doesn’t happen all that often, for you to simply find yourself frozen because of how good-looking someone is, but in that case, you just can’t help it. The man who just walked in is tall, with very nice, broad shoulders, and the apron he is wearing underlines the muscles of his chest in ways you didn’t think were possible, but more than that, he’s also, quite possibly, the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. When you glance at his plump, full lips, you find yourself having a hard time to tear yourself away. You’re relieved that you didn't have to order from him, because you’re sure it would have made you blush and stutter.

“Jungkook, there’s a mess in the back! What are you waiting fo—” Jungkook gives panicked glances in your direction, and the man catches your presence from the corner of his eyes, turning his sentence around as smoothly as is humanly possible, all while his lips curve up into a professional smile. “Ooh, hello, dear customer! I don’t think we’ve seen you here before, have we?”

A smile spills on your mouth, much to your surprise.

“No, it’s my first time here,” you answer. Your voice isn’t as strong as you’d like for it to be, but at least you didn’t choke. You suppose still being heartbroken serves as a shield against the man’s handsomeness. “I figured there’d be some discount after Valentine’s Day, and I was hungry, so…”

“You figured you’d kill two birds with one scone?” the man asks while Jungkook, behind him, silently smacks his forehead. You figure he’s heard it a million time before, but you haven’t, and you can’t help but laugh. That makes the man’s smile widen genuinely and his eyes crease.

“I guess you came up with the bakery name,” you chuckle.

“Absolutely. Isn’t it a great name?”

Jungkook shakes his head in disgust.

“It’s genius,” you say, and the man slams his hand on the table.

“See? I told you! Jungkook keeps saying that I have a terrible sense of humor—”

“I’ll be in the back if you need me,” Jungkook grumbles.

“Hey, what do we say to customers?”

“Ah— It was nice to meet you!” he says, turning around to look at you and he seems somewhat sincere. “I hope we’ll be seeing you again.”

Then he bows his head politely and disappears in the back of the shop. The other man — who you suppose is the owner of the place — watches, laughing fondly, but goes quiet after that, so you go back to your work.

You don’t stay around too long, not wanting to overstay your welcome, but you’re still the only one in the shop by the time you decide to walk out.

“Was the tea any good?” the man asks as you walk by him.

You nod and smile.

“And the chocolates were delicious,” you add. “I’ll make sure to come back.”

“That’s music to my ears,” he says, dramatically putting a hand on his chest. That’s when you notice the ‘Seokjin’ tag on his apron. You don’t know what to do with that information, though. You don’t call strangers by their first name and you also don’t stalk people on line.

Especially not when you don’t have their last name.

You say a quick ‘goodbye’, then walk out. Jin’s eyes follow you for a few seconds, before he sighs and turns around, already taking off his apron.

“Jungkook!”

The boy is quick to appear again, scanning the shop for your presence.

“She’s gone?” he asks, and Jin gives a slap at the back of his employee's head with a groan. There’s no strength in it, though, and Jungkook barely reacts to it.

“How could you run away like that, you little—”

Jungkook easily avoids him when Jin tries to him it again, laughing at his outrage.

“We’re not going to be getting a lot more clients today, are we?” he asks, looking outside at the passers-by that don’t even spare a glance at the little shop.

“No,” Jin groans, letting himself fall on a chair.

The depressing calm that follows what is possibly the busiest day of the year for him is just one of the reasons why he absolutely despises Valentine’s Day.

February 22nd

When you show up at the bakery again, about a week later, you’re feeling surprisingly good about it. Last time went well, you decided, and the people were nice, so you’re not afraid to throw a quiet but polite “Hello!” when you walk in. It’s kind of funny — or is it sad — how it always surprises you when people are nice to you, much more used to passive disinterest at best.

There’s another man in the shop this time, with a laptop and a coffee in front of him, but he doesn’t look up at you. A head lifts up from behind the counter though. You feel vaguely embarrassed that you remember this one is Seokjin, and you only feel more awkward when he gives you a dazzling smile.

A glance at the display tells you that they have restocked on their strawberry-based pastries, and you happily pick a slice of cake for yourself.

“For here or to go?”

“I’ll have it here,” you say with a smile. You feel strangely proud of yourself for being able to say it spontaneously. He has no way of knowing it, but it’s quite the victory for you. Usually, you try to run from the presence of others as fast as you can, and it’s even worse those days. “And I’ll also have Darjeeling tea with it, please.”

“Coming right up, just take a seat and I’ll bring it to you,” he says, and then he winks. He doesn’t stick around to see the surprised look on your face, so you just do as he told you, wondering if he was flirting with you or if he’s just Like That. You think that second explanation might be the answer.

“It’s nice to see you again,” he says when he arrives with the cake and the tea. You’re pretty sure he can’t place you exactly, just thinks your face is familiar, but it still makes you happy.

He tells you he hopes you’ll come back when you leave, and you decide you want to believe it.

June 1st

You’re not sure when you become an official ‘regular’ at the bakery. Maybe it’s when you ask Jin if they even do scones, and he leans over the counter to tell you conspiratorially that he actually wanted to call the shop ‘bake it ’til you make it’, but was told it was too long. That elicits a brief burst of laughter from you, and Jungkook tells you to stop encouraging him, but Seokjin looks so happy with himself when you laugh that you decide not to listen to him. Jin has that way of breaking past your shyness that fascinates you. It might be what keeps you coming back, more than the delicious sweets and how beautiful the two workers look.

Or maybe it’s when Jin tells you that it’s not fair you know their names but they don’t know yours, and that he’d ask you for your ID before selling you stuff if you don't tell him. When you tell him, he repeats it a couple of times, like he’s tasting it, before nodding with satisfaction. After that, him and Jungkook start greeting you with it, and insist you do the same with them. You’re reluctant at first, feeling somewhat confused about the whole thing, but it turns out to feel… nice, to have people to greet, and who also know your name.

Maybe it’s when Jin tells you that you’re late when you come in, or complains when you don’t show up on one of your usual days because you had a meeting with your boss. He doesn’t say anything on the day where you take your pastries to go because you’re visiting a friend at the hospital, though, and you wonder if he can just tell. Regardless, you appreciate it.

You find out about other people who come here frequently, too, and especially the ones who are friends with Jin and Jungkook. Namjoon, who sits with his laptop at the opposite end of the café from you. Yoongi, who usually sits in the same spot as you, and eyes you threateningly when he comes in and you’re there the first time, until Seokjin tells him to knock it off. Taehyung and Jimin, who always come in together, and who Jungkook usually joins to bicker and laugh with them. Hoseok, who likes to waltz in at random times, and whose smile actually rivals Jin’s.

You yourself come in twice a week, getting to your usual place to work — except on the couple of occasions where Yoongi gets there before you and gives you a triumphant smile when he sees you. You enjoy the way you’re always greeted by Jungkook or Seokjin, like they’re genuinely happy to see you. You discover that the old ladies who come here to gossip love to flirt with Jin and that, even though he flirts back outrageously, much to their delight, his ears tend to turn a bright red when he does.

You even bring your friends on a couple of occasion, and Seokjin jokes that you’re responsible for half of his turnover at this point. Your friends enjoy the food, and the drinks, but they enjoy the handsome employees and customers a lot more.

“So this is where all the hot men were,” Hana marvels when you walk out, and you burst out laughing. You like that you’ve shared this place with her, because it’s something that makes you really happy these days, motivates you to come out of your bed, and even to talk to people, something you’ve never been good at.

When you walk into the shop and make small talk with the people you’ve come to know, something you used to consider yourself terrible at, it might be silly, but it kind of feels like home.

June 21st

You are pretty sure you know when you go from regular to friend, though. It’s a day like any other and you hum on your way to the shop. Instead of the joyful “Welcome back, (Y/N)!” that you’ve gotten used to hearing these past few weeks, however, you’re greeted with Seokjin shouting “(Y/N), my savior!”.

You freeze on the spot and give him a worried look. From his table, Namjoon looks up, just as puzzled.

“Is everything okay, Jin?” he asks.

“Jungkook isn’t there today,” Jin tells you. His voice doesn’t sound different from usual, but there is a glint of panic in his eyes. “I need your help.”

Namjoon stands up.

“Why didn’t you ask me? I could—”

“Stay where you are and don’t even think of approaching my kitchen,” Jin says threateningly. “(Y/N)? Please?”

Well. You suppose your work can get done later. You’re more productive when you come here, so you have some advance on your usual deadlines these days. But you don’t know what Jin wants from you and you’ve never worked in a bakery.

“What do you want me to do?” you ask cautiously.

He grabs your shoulders and your eyes widen at the contact. Not that it’s unpleasant, just unexpected.

“I knew when you first walked in here that you were a godsend,” he tells you seriously, looking right into your eyes, and you tell yourself that if he’s that good of an actor, you should probably watch out. “We’re out of milk.”

You blink.

“Okay. Is there a specific type of milk you want?”

“Just, milk. Get me milk and I’ll worship the ground you walk on until the end of days.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics, and take your bag off your shoulder, handing it to him.

“Look after that, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll protect it with my life,” he says solemnly. “Also paper napkins please!” he shouts as you’re already walking out.

“Will do!”

“Bake a leg!”

You want to protest the joke that even you find to be quite bad, but the door has already closed behind you, so you just shake your head at him, only to see him laughing with satisfaction through the glass, and head to the nearest supermarket.

You come back with two big packs of milk and a lot of paper napkins, just as two men are exiting. You’ve seen them before, but they never stay to chat. Inside, Jin is juggling three women, and he looks more relieved than you’ve ever seen him when you walk in.

“I’ll help you with that,” Namjoon says immediately, bumping in the table as he gets up.

“If you break anything, I’ll kill you,” Jin warns him. He’s smiling like he’s joking, and his tone is light, like he doesn’t want to scare off his customers, but his eyes say he’s sincere.

You’re quick in the back, and Namjoon does drop the packs once, but nothing bad happens. He presses a finger against his lips to tell you to keep it a secret, and you grin without a word. Part of you is kind of wondering what you’re doing there, why Jin feels comfortable letting you in the back and why he asked you to do that, but you don’t have an issue with it, not by a long shot. This is… kind of fun, actually.

“Anything else you want me to do?” you ask Jin when you come out, and he looks at you in a pleading way.

“You don’t mind?”

Something tells you you shouldn’t accept too quickly, that you could end up in way over your head faster than you know. But his brown eyes are wide and desperate and you just can’t say no. So you smile and shake your head.

“Of course not. You look like you really need a hand here.”

“I do.”

That’s how you find yourself in an apron, with the cute, black hat Jin and Jungkook always wear on your head. Jin mostly sends you in the back to pick up things he needs, or makes you bring the beverages to the customers, which you’re thankful for, because that way you don’t have to greet anyone. Time flies quickly, and you can barely find a second to breathe for the first few hours.

“Sorry, it’s lunch time,” Jin grimaces as he passes you by, and you think to yourself that at least, it will get better, but it takes a while even after that, and when it’s done, Jin sends you to buy some more stuff from the supermarket, because as it turns out, things go fast.

Before you know it, it’s closing time, and you look outside in disbelief. The sky is starting to turn a nice pink, and other shops are putting up their shutters.

“You can go, if you want,” Jin tells you. He sounds terribly sorry, and that makes you feel bad. It’s such an unusual tone for him to have.

His offer is tempting, of course. Your feet hurt, your head aches a little from all the noise that never bothered you before but turns out to be a lot when you’re there all day, you’ve burned your hand against an oven, and you’ve found out that carrying things ends up really hurting your back. But you know that he’s experiencing the same thing you do, and you just don’t have the heart to abandon him here. Also, you’ve already lost your day, so you might as well help him out now.

“It’s fine,” you sigh. “Do you want me to help with anything?”

Cleaning up goes quietly in the main shop, and that soothes you a little. You don’t mind the silence, even enjoy it, and find yourself relaxing for the first time today. Surprisingly, you’re feeling… satisfied. It’s not something you would particularly look forward to doing again, but you’re happy you did it, happy you helped Jin, and you feel like you’ve accomplished something today, which is always a good thing.

“You have flour everywhere,” he tells you bluntly when you walk in the back of the shop, and you laugh.

“Well, it got everywhere,” you reply, trying to rub some off your face, and it’s Jin’s turn to laugh when you fail miserably.

You know you shouldn’t do it, but you gather a small handful of flour from the table, and throw it at him. A good chunk hangs in the air and makes you cough, but the rest does land on his apron. His mouth falls open into an ‘o’ shape and you know you’ve messed up.

“Listen, I am so sorry—”

“No you’re not,” he says, taking a step towards you. His hand is on the table, which is covered with flour, and you swallow.

“Sure I am, Jin, please—”

But your pleas fall in deaf ears, and flour is soon flying your way. It’s your turn to stare at Jin in disbelief, and then you’re laughing, loud and clear.

Maybe that’s the exact moment when the two of you become friends — really friends.

Or maybe it’s seconds later, when the room you’re in turns into the scene for an all-out flour battle. Regardless, you’re laughing the whole way through, when you’re not choking on the flour hanging in the air. Jin’s laughter is quieter than yours, miles away from the booming and somewhat fake laugh you’re used to hearing from him.

The fight only escalates when Jin picks up an egg. You shake your head, mouth ‘no’, but he doesn’t listen, and after that, things get a lot messier. By the time the two of you, exhausted and bent in half because of how much you’ve been laughing, finally stop, you can feel yoke trickling down your back, and you know the sight can’t be pretty. Jin reaches out to you in a useless attempt to wipe some flour from your face, only to laugh more when it, of course, fails once more.

You try not to think about the jolt of electricity that ran through you when his fingers came in contact with your cheek.

“I’ll clean up in here,” he tells you, “but you should go take a shower upstairs.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, surprised. Suddenly, you’re very conscious of the fact that you don’t know him that well. In recent months, you’ve talked to him more than you do with your close friends, and you did just throw several eggs at him, but you don’t know him. You’re aware of the fact that he lives above the shop, but you’ve never been there. The two of you have never even exchanged numbers.

He makes dramatic hand gestures to signal you to get away, like you’re bothering him, and you leave with a last laugh. You don’t notice the way he looks up when you do, or the way it makes him smile. He can’t help it, he just loves that he makes you laugh.

You’re relieved to step into the shower, both because you’re happy to clean up and because there was something really awkward about being in Seokjin’s apartment for the first time, alone. The place was not quite as decorated as the bakery was, with paler colors. Walking through it, you had noticed big speakers, some books in a shelf, and a couple of cute plushes that you had had to resist not to fawn over. The place worked for him, you had decided. It was more understated than you would have expected when you had just started to know him, but it doesn’t surprise you anymore. Jin tends to be quiet when he doesn’t have to be ‘on’, and it’s something he doesn’t seem to feel he has to do around you anymore.

You sigh in pleasure when the hot water hits you, close your eyes. You’ve been craving it for hours now — long before the food battle with Jin. It helps relax your aching muscles, washes away all the sweat from the day, and you have to resist not to just let yourself fall down onto the floor. Your back hurts, but the worst part has to be your feet. You feel yourself gaining a lot more appreciation for Jin and Jungkook, who are always kind, smiling and polite despite all of this. The only thing that kept you from biting someone’s head off tonight was your crippling anxiety when it comes to interacting with strangers.

It’s almost funny now to think you used to feel that way around Jin.

You look around for some soap you could use, and in your search, you’re surprised to find shampoo that was definitely intended for a woman. You don’t know why you’re surprised. It’s no wonder that Jin would have a girlfriend, really, it’s the opposite that should shock you, but you still didn’t expect it. You force away the pinch in your chest. Jin is a new friend, you can’t have your heart fluttering like that.

You consider using it for half a second, before deciding that it would be very awkward if you came out smelling like his girlfriend. Instead, you do your best to get rid of any egg, and tell yourself you’ll wash your hair at home. You barely hear the sound of the door opening and closing over the water, and you’re startled by Jin’s voice outside the bathroom.

“You can take a towel from the chest of drawers,” he tells you, “and I’ll leave a shirt outside, if you want it.”

“Thank you!” you shout back.

Seokjin stands there a few seconds, before quickly shaking his head and walking away. He knows his ears are turning red, and he hates himself for it, but is it his fault, really? Is he supposed not to think about you, right now, in his shower, water running down your body? He never even thought to pretend he was that innocent.

He occupies himself by preparing a drink for the two of you, and then by cleaning around. He’s not particularly messy, though, and there isn’t much to do, so he ends up sitting on his couch, feeling awkward in his own house, and scrolling aimlessly through his phone. He freezes again when he hears the bathroom door open and close, guessing you’re picking up his shirt. Which means you’re— God what is wrong with him tonight? When did he regress to the state of a hormonal teenager?

He hopes he looks natural when you come out, because he’s doing his best for that. The nervous way he’s running his hands over his thighs would probably give him out, though, if you weren’t feeling just as stressed as him.

“I’m done,” you mumble, your shyness coming back, which you decide is to be expected in that situation.

It vanishes the second Jin looks you over and snorts.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, glancing down, and immediately you know that you’re probably ridiculous in his black shirt. It looks like it’s swallowing you whole. “It’s not my fault if your shoulders are that broad,” you pout.

“You look so small,” Jin chuckles. He sounds endeared, and if you noticed that sort of things, you would absolutely realize that his eyes linger on you in his clothes fondly — and a little longer than necessary.

“Want something to drink?” he asks, gesturing at the stuff he got out of the fridge when he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Sure,” you smile, letting yourself fall down on the couch next to him and pouring yourself a glass. The brief awkwardness that washed over you when you came in vanishes already, because of how comfortable you feel around Jin. He’s always been good at making you feel that way, and now he doesn’t even have to try.

“So, how did you find your day?” he asks you, and you look at him, surprised by his tone. He sounds quiet, cautious almost, like he’s worried about what your reaction might be, or that he could be bothering you.

“Fine,” you say with a shrug. “I can’t say I’d want to do it again— When is Jungkook coming back?”

Jin chuckles, and again, it takes you by surprise. It’s so… quiet. So discreet, compared to his usual attitude.

“He should be there tomorrow, don’t worry about it.” Then, he grimaces. “But seriously, thank you for helping out today. I owe you.”

“Yes you do,” you say with a grin, bumping your shoulder against his, trying to lift the mood a little, because he sounds genuinely worried. “Just offer me the tea next time, and I’ll consider us even.”

Finally, a smile forms on his lips, and he shakes his head dramatically, putting his hand over his heart.

“No, I don't think I could ever repay you,” he says, and you laugh at his antics, like you always do. He looks a little appeased by that, and that’s a relief. “Your back must hurt,” he says. “Turn around.”

You raise an eyebrow, but do as he says, startling when his hands fall on your shoulders. They’re large, engulfing you easily, but they also move gently as he slowly massages you.

“Oh,” you gasp, leaning back into him. This is— good. This is very very good. For a few minutes — or maybe much longer, you couldn’t tell — you just stay there, eyes closed, lips parted, focused on the delicious feelings of his hands gently rubbing all the pain and soreness of the day away. When he stops, it takes you a few seconds to come back down to reality, and maybe, just maybe you miss the feeling of his hands. “Oh,” you repeat, rolling your shoulders slowly. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Jin says. “It’s kind of my fault.”

You turn around, shaking your head.

“Seokjin,” you say. “It’s fine. I didn’t mind helping.”

“You’re too kind,” he frowns. “You shouldn’t let people take advantage of that.”

“I’m not!”

Then Jin smiles, in a way that only lifts one corner of his lips, and suddenly you feel— you’re not too sure. Something seems to melt inside you, something moves in your stomach like you’re free falling. You probably should recognize the feeling. It’s not like it’s anything new to you, and yet you miss it. You do something you almost never do in that situation, and you take a step back. You glance up from his lips, shoot him a smile, and get up from the couch.

“It’s getting late,” you comment. “I really need to go home.”

Jin is on his feet immediately.

“I’ll walk you back,” he says, concern flashing in his eyes.

“I’m good. It’s not that far and I need to clear my head after, you know, everything today.” You’re not sure you know, but Jin nods, though a little reluctantly.

“You’re sure?”

“Very.”

He sighs. He doesn’t seem too pleased about it, but you guess he doesn’t want to insist too much, either.

“Give me your phone,” he says, and when you hand it to him, he types his number in, pouting as he explains himself to you. “Text me when you get home, alright? Otherwise I’ll just worry all night, because everyone is so unreasonable, and just wants me to lose sleep, and—”

You take your phone back from him with a laugh.

“I’ll text you,” you promise, briefly putting your hand over his. That feels— normal, you decide. It’s not like your hands have never brushed in the months since you’ve started frequenting the bakery. It just feels fine, and whatever there was before could just be a false alert. But then Jin looks into your eyes, and the feeling comes back.

“You better.”

You practically flee the bakery. You’re trying to make sense of the whole thing in your head, and it doesn’t go over great. You let Jin know you got home safe, and then do your best to push the whole thing out of your mind when you go to bed. You refuse to think about it too much. Not because you don’t understand what’s going on, but because somewhere, deep down, you do. This isn’t— this isn’t something you do. You fall hard and fast, that’s— that’s your thing.

Sometimes it’s nice, others it’s disappointing, but most importantly, it means that when the relationship is over, your life just goes back to what it was before. It you ever had feelings for a friend, someone you’re so used to having around… You’re sure it would truly break your heart.

July 15th

Summer is horribly hot this year. Fortunately for you, your favorite bakery has started serving ice cream. There is air conditioning in the store, but with the door constantly opening and closing, gusts of hot air regularly reach even you. No one seems too happy with the situation, with Jungkook seeming to slowly come apart under the temperature. Even Namjoon has abandoned ship, leaving much earlier than usual today. He waved at you when he got out, and you waved back.

Who knew, maybe the two of you would actually talk next time.

Jin uses a lull in the otherwise busy afternoon to drop at your table, and you smile to him. You haven’t really gone through anything like that night ever since, and you decided it was just a one time thing. You were tired from the work, and you were touch-starved, and, surely, there was nothing there, other than you gaining a new friend.

Yup. Nothing to see at all. Even when he’s sitting next to you, trying to fan himself with one of the bakery’s menus, head thrown back in a way that makes his Adam’s apple even more prominent.

You never thought yourself as someone who particularly enjoyed necks, but it seems you were wrong.

Not that that has anything to do with feelings, of course. Jin’s just hot. You already knew that.

“Hey, (Y/N), what’s your favorite cake?” he asks you.

It takes you just a second too long to answer.

“Uh. Anything that has strawberries in it, I guess,” you say, and he nods, but he’s also frowning. “Are my tastes not up to par?” you grin, raising an eyebrow.

“Clearly, your tastes are great, since you keep coming back,” Jin answers immediately, with the confidence that you now know to be mostly facade, but that you’ve still come to love. “No, strawberries are good. I can work with strawberries.”

“I actually wanted strawberries the first time I came here,” you reminisce. “But there weren’t any left because that was after Valentine’s Day.”

Jin clicks his tongue in disgust.

“Worst day of the year,” he says, “though February is a bad month for strawberries in general.”

“You don’t like Valentine’s Day?” you ask, and if you were a dog, your ears would be perking up with interest. You’ve always loved to hear people’s opinion on the holiday, because it’s so divisive. “You guys must make quite a lot of money…”

“I’m wounded that you’d think money is all I care about,” Jin sighs dramatically, though the glint in his eyes lets you know that he’s only joking. “It’s just very busy,” he admits. “It’s a lot of work to prepare, people place a lot of orders, and we basically don’t get a minute to ourselves. Not to mention— do you know what it does to a person to know that the food he lovingly prepared is probably going to be eaten off someone’s body?”

You can’t help it. You burst out laughing. When you do, you’re completely unaware of the fond way Jin looks at you. He’s always liked that he made you laugh, from the very first day you came into the store.

“No,” you admit, “no, I haven’t thought about it.”

“Well I have to.”

“I’m so sorry for you.”

“I’m sorry for me too.”

Then Jimin practically waltzes in and energetically greets everyone in the room, including you, and Jin gets up to serve him and Taehyung because Jungkook looks like he’s about to collapse, and you don’t give much more thought to the conversation.

But Jin remembers that strawberry cake is your favorite.

September 18th

Somehow, you get roped into helping Jin with his grocery shopping. He sat at your table and complained about how Jungkook wouldn’t be able to help him that week, and you voiced your sympathy, and next thing you knew, you were in the supermarket with him.

Well, maybe you’d offered your help. Maybe you just didn’t want to admit it because of that time he’d told you you were too kind.

“You know, I thought I’d be helping you for the bakery,” you comment, “but this mostly looks like it’s for you.”

“I am the bakery,” Jin replies, and you grin.

You watch him as he carefully crosses item after item of his detailed list. You expected him to be messy, to grab whatever he wanted, but he is as meticulous with this as he is with the baking he does for his customers. Which is— strangely endearing to you.

“Most of what we get comes in bigger orders,” he explains to you once he’s done with that aisle. “Sometimes, we find ourselves missing some things…”

“Like milk.”

“It’s always the milk,” he sighs, shaking his head it brings back bad memories. “But that’s not an issue for a lot of thing, unless something very specific comes up. Like a customer wanting a pineapple pie.”

You tilt your head as he cautiously picks pineapples. You’re not even sure how you can tell if a pineapple is ripe, but he looks like he knows what he’s doing.

“That sounds… interesting?”

“It’s going to sound very interesting when I’ll make you carry half the bags,” Jin says, and you roll your eyes. Does he think you’re going to bail on him? You would never do that.

Well. Until your eyes fall on Minho, standing there, like he hasn’t simply vanished from your life six months ago. There’s a woman with him, and she’s laughing at something he said. You suppose she was the one he met — or maybe another one, there’s no way of knowing, really. But they look like they’re getting along well, and it— it makes you happy. You think.

“Huh,” you mumble. “That’s my ex over there.”

Jin looks up so fast you worry he might hurt his neck.

“What? Where? Do you need me to insult him?”

You’re about to say no when Minho turns around, and his eyes meet yours. He gives you a hesitant nod, and you think that’s going to be it, but then, after a few seconds of obvious inner debate, he makes his way towards you.

Great.

“(Y/N),” he says, a bit awkwardly. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” you reply softly and, much to your surprise, you mean it. You did your best not to let yourself miss him, but you suppose you did. It’s been a long time since you last saw him.

“This is, erm, this is Lisa,” he says, gesturing at the woman, who gives you a polite smile. It looks like she knows exactly who you are, and you suppose it must be uncomfortable for her as well. “My girlfriend.”

Yeah. You’d pieced that together. But then, Minho’s eyes move to Jin, and he raises an eyebrow, and you realize what he’s thinking about.

“Oh, this is—”

“Seokjin,” Jin says, extending his hand. “I’m her boyfriend.”

You’re sure that anyone looking at you can tell from your expression, from the way your mouth falls open and from the incredulous way you shake your head that that’s not true, but both Minho and Lisa are looking at him, and miss it completely. When Jin looks at you, he gives an imperceptible nod and puts an arm around your shoulders.

The warmth is— kind of nice. Maybe it even sends a shiver down your back, but you’re sure it’s because you’re still quite touch-starved those days.

Nothing else here.

“That’s great,” Minho says, and he looks relieved. “It’s great that you’re with someone.”

“Isn’t it?” Jin says before you can think of anything to answer to that. “She walked into my bakery and I just knew she would become my favorite client. Basically love at first sight.”

“Love at first sale, maybe,” you can’t help but answer, even if you know, reasonably, that you shouldn’t entertain him. You’re pretty sure he’s trying to show off in front of the two, which is really unnecessary, but you appreciate the gesture. “Jin makes the best cakes you can find in the whole town,” you tell them. Not to show off, but because it’s true. There are a lot of good things you could tell them about Jin, come to think of it. A lot.

“Maybe we should try it then,” Lisa says, smiling. She looks more relaxed than earlier, though you suppose she could also just be trying to get out of this conversation.

“Oh, it’s a must,” you reply sincerely, and Jin laughs, pulling you against his chest a little.

“She’s too nice,” he says, and you immediately protest that no, definitely not, he does, and you’re sure you look like a very annoying couple, because it doesn’t take long for Minho to clear his throat.

“Well, we have to go but it was— it was nice catching up with you.”

“Same,” you nod, and when he leaves, you can’t help but watch him. You don’t really feel anything right now. You were sincerely happy to see him, but it felt like running into a childhood friend you haven’t seen in a long, long time, and now have nothing in common with outside of those memories. Except it hasn’t been a life time since you last met him. Just a little over six months. Soon, he’ll just be someone you used to know.

You wish you were more upset by this. You wish there was anything that told you that what you had with him actually mattered. Instead, this vague indifference lets you know that your paths had probably diverged before the two of you even broke up. And that makes you kind of sad.

“Are you okay?” Jin asks. He has that quiet voice you’ve heard a few times now.

“I’m fine,” you nod, “but you really didn’t have to do that. I wasn’t— Minho and I aren’t— there really was no need.”

“I was happy to do it,” Jin says, and you notice how petty he sounds. “It’s always a joy to let an ex see how much better than them you’re doing.”

You laugh. You probably agree with him on that, but you’re not going to help feed his ego even more. Jungkook would probably never forgive you for it.

“I don’t think your girlfriend would like you doing that,” you observe, and Jin answers that remark with a blank stare.

“When have I ever said anything about a girlfriend?”

“Well, there was a bottle of shampoo at your place that—”

“So a guy can’t like having his hair smell like fruit, huh?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Wow, way to reinforce stereotypes, (Y/N). I expected more of you.”

He ignores your attempts at protesting and strides away from you. It takes you a few moments to catch up, because of his stupid long legs of his.

“If I had a girlfriend, I would never stop talking about her,” he lets you know while you’re catching your breath. “So don’t worry. You’ll know about it.”

“Duly noted,” you say. You maybe feel a little too happy about that new information so, to distract yourself from it, you change the subject. “So I’m your favorite customer?”

He scoffs and glances away from you, refusing to meet your eyes. He thought you hadn’t picked up on that.

“You’re a strong contestant, I guess,” he says reluctantly, and you laugh, not pushing it further.

“Anyway— Minho broke up with me a week Valentine’s Day,” you say. You’re not sure why. Maybe to let Jin that you’ve been over it for a long time.

“That’s rude,” Jin comments with a disapproving click of his tongue.

“He probably wanted to spend it with her,” you shrug. “When we got together, he told me he didn’t cheat. He left. So— I guess that was it.” Then there’s a laugh, and you can’t tell if it sounds bitter. You hope not. “I’ve actually never had a boyfriend for Valentine’s Day,” you confess.

The silence that follows is unusual for Jin. When you glance up at him, he’s just looking at you, and for a second, you think it’s pity you find in his eyes. But, from the way he frowns, you realize it could just be genuine sympathy.

“Would it make you feel better if I tell you it’s a terrible holiday that’s just there to sell things?”

“I already know that,” you chuckle, even if it does make you feel a little better. “I just want someone to buy me roses once, you know?”

Jin doesn’t answer, just looks at you, and something about the intensity of his stare makes you feel— feel things you told yourself you weren’t feeling for him. But then, you just ran into Minho, didn’t you? It makes sense that you would be all over the place emotionally.

“Anything more on your list?” you ask, and Jin blinks.

“Yeah, that way,” he says, sounding a bit off, but then he adds “More things for you to carry,” and you decide to brush it off.

But he stores the information in his mind. Strawberry cake and roses. Duly noted.

October 31st

“So do you actually like Halloween, or is this just another shameless cash grab for you?” you ask Jin when he brings you your tea.

You have to admit, him and Jungkook truly went all out for this. They’ve decorated the shop with pumpkins, and there are fake bats hanging from the ceiling. There are also themed cakes and chocolates shaped like spiders. It’s spooky, and it delights the kids that come in and ask the parents about it. You definitely appreciate the atmosphere it creates — and you also appreciate the way Hoseok jumped when he walked in front of the witch that lets out an evil laugh when someone passes the movement detector.

“Halloween is not terrible, I guess,” Jin says, like him and Jungkook don’t take a full day out of their schedules and bring in some friends just to decorate the shop. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” you answer sincerely, and Jin’s expression softens.

“Hey, we’re having a small get-together after closing tonight,” he tells you spontaneously. “Wanna join us?”

You take a second to answer. It’s not like you don’t want to — far from that — but there’s that voice inside of you that tells you that you’ve been weird around Jin, and you don’t want to be weird around him. You want to keep things as they are, because he’s such a wonderful friend to have around. You’d hate yourself if you changed that.

But if the point is to have him around, then surely, telling him no right now would be counter-productive, right?

“Absolutely,” you say with a smile, and Jin beams, and you feel all warmed-up inside.

You already know that you’ll have fun, and you’ll laugh, and he’ll insist on walking you him and you’ll tell him no. And it sounds exactly like how you want to spend your evening.

January 10th

You first meet Sungho on New Year’s Eve, at Hana’s party. The two of you click immediately, and you enjoy the familiar rush of feelings, the waiting for a text after you’ve given him your number, the anticipation of knowing where this is all leading, if everything goes right. After a week, you run into him at the bakery, or, well, you’re sitting in your usual corner when he comes in. He doesn’t see you immediately, but when he looks in your direction after a little while, you happily wave him over.

“You don’t usually come here, do you?” you ask him. “I would have seen you by now if you were a regular.”

He chuckles, flashes you a bright smile, and you smile in return. Sungho has a nice smile. He doesn’t laugh easily, though, from what you saw when you met him, which is a shame, but definitely not a dealbreaker, even if you love to hear people laugh.

“No, I saw you were talking about this place a lot online, and I figured I would come and check it out. Of course, seeing you here is the best part,” he adds with a wink, and he leans towards you a little. The obvious flirtation sends a wave of heat through your chest, and you don’t hesitate to lean forward as well, resting your elbow on the table and putting your chin on your hand. You enjoy the closeness, the proximity, the chase.

You pull away when Jin arrives with Sungho’s order.

“This looks great,” Sungho comments. “I’m glad (Y/N) advertised you so much.”

“Well, there’s a reason she’s our favorite customer,” Jin replies, smiling, and when you meet his eyes, they’re fond and— and something else that makes it hard to breathe for a second.

But the smile fades when Sungho takes a portion of his cake with the spoon and offers it to you.

“Wanna try it?” he asks, and you do, because you know everything Jin makes will be amazing. You’re not sure you love the gesture itself — it’s kind of cute, but you’ve also just met him and it feels a bit strange — but you still giggle and take the bite.

And all Jin can do is stand there, looking at the two of you. He feels something he has felt before, and it’s that he let something he wanted pass him by. He waited too long to make a move, once again, and once again, it’s cost him something he doesn’t know how he’ll live without, and now he’ll have no choice but to figure it out.

You glance up, and he catches himself, plastering a smile on his lips.

“Enjoy yourselves!” he says, a little too loudly, and he knows, from the way you blink and the puzzled look you give him, that you’ve noticed and it’s— it’s horrible. It’s horrible that you know him that well and that you’ve seen so many facets of him and you’ve chosen someone else. You don’t ask anything, though, and he’s quick to leave.

He’s also quick to ask Jungkook to replace him in the shop, and he, very deliberately, doesn’t ask anything about how things went. Doesn’t want to know if you kissed, or worse, if you left together.

He’ll be fine. It’s not like it’s anything he hasn’t been through before.

February 5th

You feel impossibly excited when Sungho asks you out for Valentine’s Day. You gush about it to your friends, a lot, and Hana is delighted for you — and very pleased that her circles of friends are meeting like that. Jungkook sounds happy, too, though slightly more reserved, but you get the type of enthusiasm you wanted from Jimin and Taehyung.

Jin gets quiet when you let him know, though. It’s not something you haven’t seen before, but it does take you off guard, because you’ve never seen it happen while in the shop, where he’s usually on top of his game.

“Are you okay?” you ask, worried, leaning over the counter to put a hand on his arm. “You look a little under the weather these days.”

He smiles, but it lacks his usual flamboyance.

“Valentine’s Day is coming,” he tells you. “The worst day of the year.”

You laugh at that, relax, and take your hand off. You miss the way his eyes fall on the place you were just touching.

“Well, not this year, hopefully. Not this year.”

Yeah. He’s not so sure about that.

February 14th

It’s your first time, ever, having a date on Valentine’s Day, and you’re determined to do everything right. Sungho is taking you to a fancy restaurant, so you decide there is no issue in going all out. You take the day to prepare yourself, enlist Hana to do your make-up and hair, and you use the opportunity to wear a lovely bright red dress that you had been saving for a special occasion.

Hana whistles when you come out of your room after you’ve also put on half-transparent black tights.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” she says with an appreciative nod.

You glance down at your body self-consciously and try to smooth the fabric of the dress. You do think it looks pretty good, but you could be wrong. Does it show too much of your legs? Does it hug your curves too tightly?

“You think he’s going to like it?” you ask, somewhat shyly.

“He should if he knows what’s good for him,” she replies, expression turning murderous, before softening. “Just… Are you sure you want to be doing that?”

You give her a confused look.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know, going out with Sungho,” she says with a vague hand gesture. “I just— I don’t know. Do you like him that much?”

It’s funny. You haven’t really asked yourself that question. You’ve just been going through all the usual motions — the flirting, the dates, and, inevitably, the start of the relationship, which is probably for tonight.

“We— we get along fine,” you answer. “I like him.”

You leave the words ‘well enough’ out of that sentence. You like Sungho well enough. But then, that’s always been good enough for you, so why should it change now?

Hana seems to think about it for a little while, then shrugs.

“Okay then. Do you need my help to walk to the cab? I would not trust these things.”

She’s pointing at your heels, and it makes you laugh. These aren’t even that high, and they’re pretty stable. You don’t think you’ll have any trouble walking in them. Hana wouldn’t abandon her flat shoes to save her life, though, so you suppose the question was to be expected.

“You can just tell me if you want to hold my arm,” you tease, and it seems to take her by surprise, before she chuckles.

“You’ve gotten a little too good at that. I don’t know if I like it.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid Jin has infected me.”

That gives her pause, and she shoots you a weird look, but you miss it. She opens her mouth to say something, then gives up. She could be wrong, after all.

She kind of hopes she’s wrong, or that if she’s right, you’ll realize it soon enough.

The dinner is perfect. You’re dressed perfectly for the occasion, fitting right in the restaurant’s decor, Sungho complimented you when you walked in and you told him he looked great, which is true, the food is delicious, the conversation flows easily, and there are roses on the table. They’re not for you, part of the decoration, and it doesn’t look like Sungho’s gotten you any, which gives you just a little pinch of disappointment in your chest, but it’s also not a big deal. It’s fine. Everything is fine.

And you’re not happy with it.

You can’t place it, and it slowly drives you insane, as you and Sungho make your way through the meal. You try your best not to let it show, but you think he notices your increasing restlessness. You feel bad about it, because really, he hasn’t done anything wrong. You just— something’s not right.

Dammit. It’s your first time having a date on Valentine’s Day, and you can’t make it work.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Sungho says while the two of you are waiting for your desert, and you do your best to snap out of whatever is going on in your head to focus on him.

“Tell me,” you smile, though the smile is polite, rather than genuine.

He takes a deep breath and reaches over the table to take your hand. It’s far from the first time the two of you make physical contact, you’ve even kissed a few times, and it was nice, but something makes you want to recoil, in that moment. You don’t, though. Why would you? It doesn’t make sense. Nothing about you makes sense right now.

“I like you,” he says, and you find the breath knocked out of you. It’s not unpleasant, though, it’s very nice in fact, and it almost completely dissipates your previous discomfort. “And I think— you know. We haven’t said anything about being exclusive yet, so I figured I’d— ask.”

He looks pretty confident, which you thought would put you off, but it doesn’t. The answer seems obvious to you. It’s been just a little over a year since you broke up with Minho, which is a reasonable time, so your lips part to let him know that you’d be happy to—

It’s then that you remember. You remember what you told yourself after that break-up, and what you thought after the break-up before that, and the time before as well. You remember you told yourself you wouldn’t settle for less than what you really wanted. You told yourself you wanted to love and be loved. You told yourself you wanted someone who’d remember how you liked your tea.

And, just like in a movie, Jin’s face appears in your mind. You almost dismiss it, tell yourself it’s just because of the tea, until you realize it’s not. It just isn’t. You should have noticed earlier, you know that, but you’ve never been friends with someone before developing feelings for them. You’ve always told yourself you were an ‘all or nothing’ kind of person, that you were the type to know immediately if things could happen. Maybe you didn’t quite believe in love at first sight, but you’d always thought that love didn’t wait.

Apparently you were wrong.

Jin’s the one who inadvertently makes you pulse rush, when his hand brushes against you. Jin’s the one who lifts your spirits, no matter what. Jin makes you happy, makes you want to get up in the morning, has done that for months now. Jin actually knows you. Jin looks at you like you’re precious to him. Maybe that doesn’t mean love, maybe to him, it’s all just friendship, but to you, it’s much more than that. And the feeling you get is so strong, so powerful, that you understand that you need to tell him. Need to tell him now.

“I’m sorry,” you say to Sungho, who’s been waiting for an answer all this time. “I’m really sorry, I don’t think that can work out.”

His face falls, but he looks far from heartbroken.

“Oh,” he says. “Um. That’s—”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, already getting up from your chair. You’re buzzing with excitement, with feelings. “I have to go. I’ll pay for the meal, okay?”

“No, don’t—”

“Sorry!”

You stop at the counter briefly before rushing out into the night. You feel that you know exactly where you need to be.

You get to the bakery minutes before closing time, which is exceptionally at 9 p.m. for the day. A couple is just coming out, and that leaves only Jungkook inside. There’s nothing left on display, and you know it’s been impossibly busy, which means Jin is probably in a bad mood, but you can’t wait until tomorrow. When you walk in, Jungkook looks up from behind the counter, clearly surprised by the sound of someone coming in that late, and a puzzled look settles on his face when he notices that you’re out of breath, your previously perfect make-up now looking a little worse for wear.

“Is everything alright?” he asks. He sounds worried, and any other day you would take the time to reassure him, but in that moment you’re pushed by an energy that can’t be stopped, so you just nod quickly as an answer.

“Is Jin here?”

“In the back,” he says, tilting his head in that direction, and you’re pretty sure a glint of understanding lights up in his eyes.

“Can I….?”

He nods, a grin on his lips, and now you’re sure he knows why you’re here. You don’t wait for him to tease you about it, quick to make your way past him.

You freeze the second you walk into the backroom, though. It’s not just because of Jin’s back, though that definitely has more of an effect on you than you’d like to admit — the broad shoulders, the muscular back, and inexplicably, the nape of his neck. It’s also because of the large bouquet of red roses, standing in a vase on the table next to him. Your breath catches in your throat as you look at them. They look beautiful, vibrant, their fragrance floating through the room, all the way to you.

“Who are the roses for?” you ask, making Jin jump.

Any other time, you would have been pleased to take him by surprise for once, but right now you’re hanging on his words, waiting for an answer. The air feels heavy between you, and it doesn’t help that he doesn’t answer immediately, swallowing silently as his eyes travel over your body. You had almost forgotten about the dress you were wearing, and, instead of making you feel comfortable and confident, like it had earlier, you feel naked and vulnerable under his gaze.

Finally, his eyes meet yours, mouth slightly open, and by that point your heart is hammering in your chest. You wonder if he has any idea of how you’re feeling right now. Had he noticed your feelings when even you weren’t aware of them?

“What?” he croaks, voice dry, like he’s forgotten what you said.

“The roses,” you repeat. “Who are they for?”

You need an answer. Desperately.

Jin’s eyes move to the roses, and his face falls. He turns his back to you again as he goes back to whatever he’s cleaning.

“Didn’t you have a date tonight?”

You shrug, though he can’t see it.

“I broke things off with him,” you say lightly, and you don’t miss the way his movements pause, or the way his shoulders tighten, for half a second, before he keeps moving. “Are you— are you meeting someone?”

“No,” he protests immediately. “You know I don’t believe in Valentine’s day.”

You do. You remember that. So you wait for an explanation. It takes a while, and you just wait silently behind him, suspecting that he’s waiting for you to go away. After a few minutes, though, he slams his hand on the table, still not looking at you.

“They’re for you, okay? You said you’d always wanted roses for Valentine’s Day, and I figured, maybe your stupid boyfriend didn’t know that yet, and that I could maybe just drop them off at your place, and—”

“You didn’t ask me why I broke up with him,” you interrupt him, cutting his rambling short, and he falls silent. You catch his eyes from over his shoulder. Finally, you’re feeling yourself calm down, and at the same time you’re practically shaking with anticipation. “I realized I had feelings for someone else,” you say when he still doesn’t ask, just watching you, lips tight.

“…You do?” he simply says in reply. He’s tense, guarded, and you take a careful step towards him.

“Yeah,” you nod. Your eyes aren’t leaving his, not even for a second. “He’s smart, and kind, and handsome.” You take a step for each description you give, and you can’t help but smile on the last word. But your smile doesn’t reach Jin’s lips, and he’s just looking at you like he’s expecting you to tell him someone else’s name, or to make fun of him. “And he makes me laugh,” you add quietly, as you get to him, leaning against the table. “A lot. Some have even said it was a little too much.”

“So who is he?” he asks, and you smile. It’s wild to you that you haven’t understood earlier how absolutely head over heels in love with him you are, especially right now, when you’re standing so close to him. It’s also wild that he can’t see it, because you feel as though you’re radiating with that emotion, feel that anyone should be able to tell.

“It’s you,” you breathe out. “It’s obviously you.”

Then you’re pushing yourself up against his mouth, soft and slow. One of his hands closes around your waist as he leans forward, towering over you. His eyes are shut, and you close your own, reveling in the feeling of his warm body pressed against your own. You feel his tongue darting out to brush against your lips, and they part to grant him access, eager to taste all of him and—

“Couldn’t you tell me that earlier?” Jin protests loudly, tearing himself away from you, and your eyes snap open. “I would have planned the best Valentine’s Day you’ve ever—”

You groan and cut him off with another kiss, faster and harder this time, grabbing his wrists to guide his hands to your hips. You moan in contentment into his mouth when he kisses you back and he swallows it eagerly, pressing you into the table, bodies meeting like they’ve been waiting for it for forever and you—

“I wanted to make you an amazing strawberry cake! Now I don’t have any strawberries left!”

“Jin, please,” you sigh, unable to tolerate any other interruption, “would you just shut up and kiss me?”

And, finally, he does. Holds you like he never wants to let you go, kisses you like there’s no tomorrow, and when the two of you part, he rests his forehead against yours like he can’t bear the thought of being away from you even for a second. The silent stretches, comfortable, only filled with your respirations, until someone clears their throat, and the two of you jump away from each other.

“Sorry,”Jungkook says with a shit-eating grin that tells you he’s not sorry at all, “but I was about to leave. Will the two of you be okay?”

“I’m sure we can work things out without you,” Jin says. “Goodbye!”

But Jungkook doesn’t leave right away, turning his smile to you. You would hide into Jin’s shoulder, but you feel so good you can’t be bothered right now.

“Goodbye (Y/N)!”

“Bye, Jungkook!”

“That kid, I swear,” Jin says, shaking his head, as Jungkook leaves, his laugh hanging in the air behind him for a few seconds.

“I quite like him,” you comment, fingers dancing down Jin’s neck to come trace the border of his shirt.

“Oh, you do?” There is a dangerous edge to his tone and you glance up, surprised.

“Are you jealous?” you ask. “I didn’t know you were the jealous type.”

“I’m not.”

“Because it’s not Jungkook I abandoned my date for.”

“Good that you did. I never liked him.”

“So you are jealous.”

Seokjin mumbles something incomprehensible and you laugh and hug him tighter. And when he asks you if you want to come upstairs, even if he doesn’t have the perfect Valentine’s Day dinner planned, even if really, all he has to offer is himself, you tell him yes, of course.

Because he’s all you want right now.

It turns out, you wouldn’t have eaten the dinner anyway. The second the door closes behind you, you’re pulling him down against you for a kiss, and he doesn’t oppose any resistance, doesn’t protest like he did before, just lets out a moan into your mouth. He’s just as eager as you are to get rid of that tight dress.

“Careful with the tights,” you warn when his hands start roaming your thighs.

“Take them off then,” he groans.

You press a few kisses against his mouth, feeling delighted with the way he restrains himself, hands turning into fists against your hips as he stops himself from tearing off your closes. Finally, you pull away with a giggle. His eyes are wide and dark with desire, and they only get wider when you playfully slide off your dress’ strap.

“Don’t tease,” he says, practically growls, but you decide that you will. You guide him to his couch, push him down onto it, and evade him when he tries to pull you down with him, slipping out of his grasp. You stand just out of his reach, but more than close enough to be tantalizing, and you see in his eyes that it’s working just fine.

You take the time of making a show out of sliding down your dress down your body, letting it pool down at your feet before stepping out of it. The heels are the next thing to go, and then, finally, the offending tights. The second you’re out of those, Seokjin pounces, grabbing your hips and pulling you onto the couch.

“If you want us to move this to the bedroom, now would be a good time to say it,” he says as he kisses your neck, hands traveling up and down your body, large and calloused, but kind and gentle.

“I’m good here,” you say, arching your back to grant him better access — and to roll your hips against him. “Are you good here?”

You feel his breath catching in his throat when you move, as well as something hard pressing against you in his pants, and his voice is slightly choked when he answers.

“Yeah. This would happen at some point anyway.”

You laugh. You can’t wait to try this in all the places the two of you can think of in his apartment.

“Then let’s get to it, shall we?”

Jin doesn’t seem to have anything to answer to that, especially not when you hook your leg around his, using your heel to push him down on top of you. He’s still dressed, but you plan on rectifying that. You stop kissing him to work on the buttons of his shirt, and he lets you, breathing heavily. Your fingers explore the skin you reveal in the process, and you’re delighted when he shivers as you find out where his sensitive spots are — right under his collarbone, his nipples, his ribs.

Finally, the shirt joins your dress on the floor. You take a second to marvel at his body. His shoulders are even nicer to look at like that, you decide. You capture Jin’s mouth again, this time with your hands fisting his hair. You’re feeling yourself growing more impatient, wetter, and while your panties are the only thing still covering your body, he’s still wearing pants — which is far too much clothing.

“I want you so bad,” you whisper to him, and his breath catches in his throat.

“Fuck. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

That makes you grin, and you arch your back into him again, pressing yourself against his now rock hard crotch.

“Oh, I think I do,” you reply devilishly, and all Jin does is to bury his head into your neck. His fast breathing tickles your skin, and you love it. You love discovering that you have that effect on him, love how you can make him come undone. Another night, you might really, really enjoy teasing him about it, but you have something else on your mind tonight.

Your hand travels down his body to palm him through his pants, and he groans, bucking his hips against it involuntarily.

“Let me take care of that?” you offer, and he pulls away to raise an eyebrow at you.

Wordlessly, you guide him so he’s sitting on the couch, and then, without breaking eye contact, you drop to your knees. You watch as his eyes go wide and he swallows loudly. You don’t give him time to regain his composure, gently nudging his legs apart so you can place yourself there comfortably.

“Fuck,” he repeats as your hands travel over his thighs before unbuckling his belt.

He lifts himself off the couch so you can slide down his pants and underwear, and that leaves him in his naked glory. And boy, is he glorious, dick standing erect and proud, precum already dripping from the tip. You suppose it’s been a while since the last time he had any sort of intercourse, and so you decide that you will do everything that’s in your power to make it worth his while.

You do your best to maintain eye contact with him while you lean forward to gently take in the head of his cock, wrapping your red lips around it as your hand grips the base.

“Ah,” he gasps, and you wonder if he gets loud during sex.

You hope he does.

You mostly tease him at first, running your tongue over the tip, and you feel his hand grabbing the back of your head gently. He doesn’t try to control your pace or to push you down. He seems to just be anchoring himself as he lets you do whatever you want. Glancing up, you see that he’s thrown his head back and his mouth is hanging open, letting out quiet moans that sometimes get high-pitched.

For some reason, the sight of his exposed throat turns you on impossibly. You slide a hand down your body to try to get some relief as well, and you moan loudly when your fingers finally find your clit. The vibrations have Jin push his hips up as his hands tighten on you. A second later, his eyes snap open.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, “I don’t mind but— Do you have a condom somewhere?”

He hesitates, then reaches for the coffee table. He opens the drawer, rummages through it quickly, and finds what he’s looking for.

“Taehyung said it was good to have them all over the house, just in case,” he feels obligated to explain to you, even while he struggles to open it and to put it on.

Well, you owe Taehyung one, you decide, but now really is not the time to discuss that, so you pull him down for quick kiss before he can lose himself in his ramble.

“Want you now,” you tell him, and it sounds like an order.

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles, pulling you back up onto the couch.

Your panties are soon gone, and he spreads your legs open with utmost care. Even if you’re pretty sure he could just slide right in, with how wet you are, he pushes a long finger inside you, then another.

“You’re so wet for me,” he marvels. “So wet, and I haven’t even touched you.”

“Don’t flatter yourself too much yet,” you moan. “There’s still work to be done here.”

His eyes are full of love when he looks at you, taking in your body, now completely naked and offered. Just for him.

“Oh, I’ll do it. Don’t you worry about that.”

You’re about to call him out for his cockiness when he lines his cock with your entrance, tip rubbing against your folds, and you close your mouth instead, wisely choosing not to provoke him when he could so easily make you pay for it by making you wait. Except it seems he’s just as impatient as you, because he pushes himself inside you without pause.

You moan and shift to accommodate the stretch, and Seokjin goes still on top of you.

“Are you okay?” he asks. You’re satisfied with the strain in his voice, like knowing you’re not the only one to be so affected here.

“Hmm,” you hum. “Can you— move? A little?”

He pulls out a little, experimentally, and you moan louder than before. It takes you a few minutes to figure out the pace, as your hips keep moving, desperately searching for more friction, but they’re not unpleasant, filled with kisses, sweet nothings and the feeling of his warm skin against yours. In those moments, you feel like you’re discovering him all over again, and you find yourself enjoying that more than you can say.

Finally, you find yourselves, and the sound of skin against skin fills the room, along with your loud, high-pitches moans, and Seokjin’s — softer, quieter, but definitely there. You meet each of his thrusts, with one hand between the two of you to rub against your clit. When you first clench around him, he finally lets out a moan that’s as loud as yours.

“Fuck, fuck, fffuck,” he says, head falling against you, cheek pressed against your collarbone. “If you— If you do that again I’ll— Wait, please, wait, wanna— wanna cum with you—”

You arch your back, your nipples grazing against his chest, and force up the pace of your hips. Jin is moving incoherently, begging into your neck, and you want to give him exactly what he’s asking for. When you clench around him again, it’s with your orgasm. It’s all it takes to push him over the edge as well, but you barely feel his hips stutter into you, completely taken over by your own pleasure.

It takes you a little while to come back down from your high, and when you do, you meet his eyes. They’re soft and gentle, and, more than anything that’s happened until then, they make you melt.

“Hey,” he whispers, “you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, more than okay, in fact. You?”

“More than okay, too,” he says as a lazy smile spreads across his features.

“Good. That’s good.”

Pillow talk is not your forte.

“Hey,” Jin says, coming to rest his forehead against your shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

You chuckle.

“I think I’m in love with you too.”

“That’s good,” Jin says, but his voice sounds choked up, raspy, and you know he’s probably blushing. So you don’t add anything, just run your fingers over his scalp, the nape of his neck, down his back. Let him know you’re here, that you’ve got him, that you’re not going anywhere.

“Are you— are you staying the night?” he asks.

“Sure, unless you’re kicking me out.”

His arms tighten around you possessively.

“I would never.”

It takes a little longer before Jin manages to get the two of you off the couch to go get cleaned up, and then into bed, but of that night, there is not a second that you would call unnecessary or superfluous. Not one.

Every single one of them, every moment you spend with Jin on that first night, are essential, and you could not pick one of them to take back.

March 14th

The bell chimes happily when you walk into the shop, and even though Jin is busy with another customer, his eyes immediately find you. It’s something simple, yet it’s something you love about him. The way he always seems to find you, and the pleasant warmth that fills you without fail when you see him. You’ve been told that it was just the high of the first months of a relationship, not to get too used to it but you hope that, even if it dims, it won’t go away completely.

“Hey, Jin, your ears are turning really red. Why are your ears turning red?”

You laugh while your boyfriend turns to shoot a furious look at Yoongi. He’s sitting in your spot, in the back of the shop, and he’s looking smug. That comment of his has become a pretty common thing to hear whenever you walk in, or just when Jin and you are speaking. To be completely honest, you’re not too mad about it. Jin is good at acting like you have no effect on him, but the blush betrays him, and it’s been both cute and useful to see what actually gets to him, or bothers him sometimes.

“I’ll kick you out of my shop if you keep that up!” Jin shouts at him. “Don’t think I won’t!”

But Yoongi just chuckles into his mug, clearly not taking him seriously — and he’s probably right for that.

“So, do you know what today is?” Jin asks nonchalantly after he’s turned back to face you, gesturing for Jungkook take over with the other customer.

Your eyes widen in horror.

“Please don’t tell me you want us to celebrate our one month anniversary. I haven’t planned anything for that.”

Jin rolls his eyes.

“I would argue that our one-month anniversary is tomorrow, if we’re being precise, because that’s when we, um, really talked about it.”

He’s not wrong. It had been a pleasant thing, to wake up in his arms the morning after, to the sensation of his lips gently kissing your neck, and an even nicer thing to take your breakfast with him. You couldn’t pinpoint why exactly. It had just been what had absolutely and irrevocably sealed the deal for you. You knew it hadn’t been a mistake. You wanted to be with him.

“Hmm, but there is still some sort of anniversary to be celebrated tonight then,” you say, leaning over the counter. “I’m sure I could prepare something for that.”

His ears and neck flush, and Yoongi has the delicacy of not pointing it out this time.

“That’s not— That’s not what I’m talking about! Today is the white day.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“That’s when boys are supposed to give chocolates back to the girls they like,” Jin elaborates.

“But I didn’t give you chocolates,” you say.

“No, but you’re still the one who— Yoongi, I swear to God— You know. You’re the one who took the first step.”

Despite his recent outburst, it’s obvious that he feels embarrassed and vulnerable in that moment. You’d kind of gathered that he really regretted not asking you out before Sungho had, but you had never thought that it was actually an issue.

“I’m really happy I did,” you tell him quietly. He’s not fond of PDA, but you still allow your fingers to brush against his. That feels discreet enough.

“I know,” he says, and there’s so much love in his eyes when he looks at you that it’s a real miracle that you don’t melt into a puddle right then and there. “But I still—” He sighs. “You’re really ruining my plans. This was meant to go over smoothly.”

“Sorry,” you apologize with a wide grin while he picks something up from behind the counter.

“There,” he mumbles, handing you the box.

You open it, genuinely curious. You feel the eyes of everyone else in the shop — Yoongi, Namjoon, Jungkook and, of course, Jin — on you, and you want to tell most of them off, but you suppose that since this is where most of your relationship development happened, they’re kind of part of the story too.

The box is filled with chocolates shaped like roses.

“I know it’s not much,” Jin is quick to say, “but I just wanted to—”

“Jin?” you interrupt him.

“Y-yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you.”

His eyes go wide, and then he sighs, but he can’t force away the smile that’s forcefully making its way on his lips.

“Well, if you absolutely have to—”

But he doesn’t protest when you pull him over the counter to kiss him, hands gently closing over your shoulders. He even brings you back for a second, even briefer kiss, and there’s something fierce in his eyes then. He superbly ignores the cheers that come from your friends in the room.

“I have to warn you, you’re never getting rid of me now,” he says, and it’s light-hearted, but you know there’s a lot of truth behind those words.

“Good,” you simply reply. “I wouldn’t want that for the world.”

He looks like he wants to add something to that, but he chokes on the words, and he falls quiet instead. It’s just as good, really.

There are some things you don’t need words for.

Some things that can be expressed just as easily with a box full of rose-shaped chocolates.

#jin x reader #seokjin x reader #bts #bts imagine #kim seokjin x reader #jin imagine #seokjin imagine #jin fluff #seokjin fluff #bts fic #jin fanfic #seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin #jin smut #seokjin smut #candywrites

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spencersawkward · 4 years ago

Text

*house call // wes (Dollface)*

ssummary: when her pet cat gives her a scare, Reader decides to call the vet to make sure everything is going to be okay.

pairing: Fem!Reader x Wes

word count: 5.4k

content warnings: discussion of cannabis/cannabis consumption, unprotected penetrative sex, use of nicknames (baby, sweetheart), SoftDom!Wes, breeding kink, creampie.

request: can you do a wes smutty one shot if you’re down?!

A/N: to be fair, i haven’t watched Dollface in a minute, but i’m obsessed with the domestic vibes that Matthew gives off when he plays Wes and i just thought it would be super cute. anyway, this was super fun also i wanna fuck Wes. ok enjoy!

masterlist

the absolute best part of your day is when the package arrives at your doorstep. you impulse-purchased it about two weeks ago while you were hanging out with one of your close friends, and you've been looking forward to trying it every day since.

or, really, for your cat to try it.

you've read reviews and been extremely diligent to make sure the stuff is completely safe, and everything you've seen or read was singing the praises of this cat weed (which isn't actually cannabis at all, but catnip made to look like it).

as you take the cardboard box to the kitchen table and pry open the top with the help of a Swiss army knife, you're grinning. Klimt comes scampering into the room to see what all the fuss is about, sitting at your feet with his tail curled around his legs.

"no peeking." you scold him gently. your kitten, the friendliest little rescue tabby around, simply stares blankly back. when you remove the wrapping from the glass jar and stare at it up close, you're impressed by how realistic it looks. the label shows cat-friendly ingredients only, but you unscrew the top and get a whiff of catnip.

Klimt begins to weave in between your legs, nudging them affectionately and beginning to purr. you giggle and bend down to give him a few pets. his nose twitches; he tries to sniff at the foreign object, but you put it back on the table.

"don't be greedy, babe." you scratch between his pointed ears and he lets out a whiny meow.

it's about his dinner time, and you were hoping to give him his treat tonight after he finishes his dry food. so you make yourself something simple with the leftovers in your fridge and do some more work on your laptop while you two eat together.

you've had Klimt for a while, now. you call him a kitten even though he's a full-grown cat-- he's just as playful and enthusiastic as any newborn. his eyes are the color of meadow grass, and his nose is scattered with tiny freckles. it makes him look like he's just come from digging around the backyard, but it really just adds to his charm.

not to mention his ceaselessly social tendencies: Klimt is always around when your friends come over, worming his way in between you or sitting on one of the free chair cushions to listen. you wonder if he knows what you're saying sometimes, because when you talk about the embarrassing things you've done that day or the failed interactions you've had, he always lifts his head to give you something of a judgmental stare.

once you've settled down for the evening and turned on the TV, you decide that now is the time. Klimt is aimlessly poking at a few of his toys. he bats at a fake mouse between his paws.

"kitten," you click your tongue and get up to grab the jar. "are you ready to try this stuff?"

as if he's going to answer. he hears your footsteps coming back his way and watches patiently. it's only when you pour out a little bit in front of him that he gets curious about the stuff. you admire his movements as he bends down and examines.

although you keep an eye on him while watching your show, you don't notice much of a change in him. he starts to roll about on the floor, which is to be expected, but it's only when he starts to chase around his fake mouse that things get interesting.

you laugh as Klimt goes nuts, jumping back and attacking the thing like he's ready to come in for the kill. it's really funny, but you're interrupted by your phone buzzing. you told your friend that you were doing this tonight.

"hi!" you answer the FaceTime call right away.

"how is he?" you can hear the smile in Andi's voice as you turn the camera.

"he's loving it."

"oh my god," she laughs. Klimt arches his back, leaping so highly in the air, you raise your eyebrows. "I wonder how long it'll last." she muses.

"I'm guessing we'll get about an hour more of this before he passes out for the next two days." you joke. he gets strong bursts of energy usually, but they only last so long until he's curled up on the window sill or in your bed.

Andi and you talk for a while as Klimt tires himself out and plays with all of his favorite toys. you dangle a string in front of him for a decent amount of time, too, just to make him get up on his hindquarters. he's a natural entertainer, a lithe little thing who lets out a few irritated meows to demonstrate his impertinence.

after about forty-five minutes, however, you notice your cat's behavior change. he keeps raising his hackles and rolling about, and something about it makes you nervous. he doesn't usually act like this, not even when he plays with the other catnip toys he's accumulated.

"what's wrong?" Andi notes your furrowed brow as you look past the camera of your phone and at your pet.

"he's just acting really weird," you pat the couch cushion to call him over, but he doesn't even glance up. "I don't know why."

"maybe it's the cat weed." she suggests. you purse your lips and try to think.

"yeah, but nobody in the reviews ever mentioned anything like this."

"I'm sure he's fine, Y/N."

"yeah, I know..." but you're worried. Klimt is your pal, your cuddle buddy. as he rubs his cheek against the wooden floor, you feel guilt pool in your stomach. if he's hurt because of some dumb online purchase, you're never going to forgive yourself. "I'm gonna call the vet just to be sure."

"oh, okay," she sounds surprised, but doesn't try to stop you. "let me know what they say."

"I will." you hang up the phone and stare at your companion for a few seconds. he leaps into the air and does a somersault before letting out some deeply disturbing whine that reminds you to call the vet. better safe than sorry.

...

when the doorbell rings, you're practically twiddling your thumbs anxiously. Klimt hasn't settled at all, and you haven't even bothered to change out of your lounging ensemble. you're pretty sure you look a mess, but hopefully the person won't care too much.

you don't know who to expect-- your usual vet is an older woman who is friends with your mom, but her receptionist said she was out tonight and would send over another vet to check it out.

when you swing open the door, you immediately regret the decision to stay in sweatpants.

"hi, I'm Wes." the guy gives you a friendly smile and holds up his bag. it's almost comically old-fashioned, something out of an old movie, and you half-expect him to be wearing a stethoscope around his neck.

he's gorgeous, though. definitely a good amount older than you, tall with brown curls and stubble. his features stand out to you even under the porch light, and your mouth guppies idiotically.

"hi," you manage. his eyes flicker to your hand, which is seemingly blocking him from coming inside the house, and you jolt back a little to let him in. you clear your throat. "sorry."

as he steps inside and you close the door behind him, getting one tiny moment to yourself, your eyes widen. way to make yourself look like a bumbling fool.

"I heard that there's a tabby who got into some catnip?" you catch him looking around the front of your house, eyes catching on the framed photos before finding yours again. you can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, but nod confidently.

"yeah, Klimt. he should still be in the living room."

"Klimt? like the artist?" he chuckles and follows you into the rest of the home. his voice has a nice timbre to it, something low and gentle that fits well with his occupation.

"yeah, exactly." you turn to smile at him.

you hear the cat before you see him. he's climbed to the top of his cat tree and leaps down onto the ground, paws hitting the surface in a way that can't have been comfortable. he chirps and looks up at Wes, whose lips are turned up with amusement.

"are you the man of the hour?" he asks, approaching the cat. Klimt's pupils get enormous and he prepares to pounce on the newcomer.

"careful--" you start to warn him, but the cat launches himself right into Wes' arms. the vet turns to you, holding him to his chest, and grins. warmth spreads over your skin with embarrassment. "sorry."

"no need to apologize," he starts to pet Klimt, who is only slightly struggling to escape. he wants to go wild again, but Wes isn't going to let go. "they call me the Cat Wrangler at the office."

"really?" you snort. he brings your pet over to the couch and sets him on the cushions, careful to keep him in place.

"no way." he shoots you a dazzling smile. the joke makes you giggle, and you feel yourself become even more self-conscious about the outfit you're wearing. this is just your luck, having hot guys come over when you distinctly look your worst.

Wes scratches between Klimt's ears and glances up at you again. "is there any reason in particular you're worried about the catnip?"

"yeah, actually," you nod, brought back to reality. "I know it's supposed to make them more playful, but he's just been acting weird and I got worried that there was something in it that messed with his head."

"can I see the container for it?" he asks. you go to grab the jar, only to remember that it proudly announces itself as cannabis for cats. profound embarrassment causes you to hesitate with the stuff in your hands.

it's not like he's here for you to flirt with, but you're still thinking about how stupid and young you're going to look with this stuff in front of him, a hot older guy who seems to have his life under control. you peek at him once more from the kitchen, at the way he smiles and starts to talk softly to Klimt as if he were a peer.

he's kinda crazy, and it makes you smile.

"it's cat weed." you hand him the glass container, and Wes breaks into a grin as he looks at the front.

"oh my gosh, I've heard about this!" his eyes move quickly over the label. you're in shock.

"really?"

"yeah, it's hilarious. here, can you make sure our friend here doesn't move while I read the ingredients?" he gestures. the knot of anxiety within you loosens a bit. you nod obediently, going to scoop up your pet and sit him on your lap. he's still squirmy, but he doesn't look ready to attack either of you, thankfully.

"hey, you." you greet your pal affectionately. his tail is wagging impatiently while Wes kneels on the ground beside the couch. there's a silver ring on his finger, but you notice with relief that it's not on his fourth one.

when he sets the jar down on the coffee table with the kind of smile that hints at some secret amusement, you frown. "what?"

"nothing," he shakes his head. "Klimt is gonna be totally fine."

"are you sure?" you pet the feline's smooth coat.

"definitely. you know how drugs affect people differently?" he asks. you want to say no, you don't know that because why would you, but then you remember that there is quite literally a glass-blown bowl sitting on your kitchen table.

"sure." you reply honestly.

"it's the same with cats: some just feel the effects a little more." he shrugs. you think this over for a second.

"that makes sense."

"yeah, I'd estimate about an hour more of this wildcat behavior before he takes a ten-hour nap." he cracks another joke and you find yourself totally charmed by him. something about the way he talks just makes your heart beat like crazy.

"that's a relief."

he chuckles and stands up, grabbing the bag (which he never even had to use) and starting to walk out of the living room. you can smell his delicious cologne as he moves past you.

"sorry for making you come out here so late." you apologize from the couch. Wes turns to look at you with an easygoing expression. his free hand is tucked into his pocket.

"no worries. you have a lovely home." he gestures to the kitchen, and then at the bowl sitting there in the open. you have to fight the smile on your face.

"thanks." you're smirking. right before he's about to head back out, you ask a question that's been wriggling around in your mind since he arrived. "why no title?"

"you mean, like, Doctor or something?" he stops in the threshold. one hand leans against it while he answers your question. you still can't get over how tall he is.

"sure. I mean, you are a doctor, right?" it comes out more dubious than you intended, but he doesn't get offended, only smiles.

"yes, I'm a doctor. I went to Davis." he points like the school is right outside your door. you nod.

"cool."

there's a silence where you just look at each other, and you forget that you look like you just rolled out of bed. he clears his throat.

"to answer your question, I just go by Wes because you're not my patient-- Klimt is." he points to the kitten, who is now chasing his own tail like a dog. you snort at the sight.

"how humble of you."

"I know, right?" he's joking. you find yourself not wanting him to leave, even though you've really just met. he's so sweet and funny and handsome... your stomach is flipping over and over like a schoolgirl.

and it's stupid that you can't think of one plausible reason for him to stay, but every step he takes shortens your time to think. so you just blurt, instead.

"would you want a beer?"

Wes pauses and looks at you, an unreadable expression on his face. "a beer?"

"yeah, I mean... you came all the way out here and I just feel bad for causing a fuss over nothing." you scramble slightly to justify your words. you don't ever drink beer-- do you even have any? god, this is embarrassing.

the vet checks the watch on his wrist, then smiles at you with a halting kind of enjoyment, before nodding. "sure."

"okay, great." you turn on your heel to hide the grin on your face. he follows you again to the kitchen area and leans against the counter while you open the fridge. the best form of flirting you can manage right now is bending over shamelessly and taking your time to poke around.

thankfully, there are three cold bottles left towards the back. you take out two and use the tool in one of your drawers to pop the tops off. he watches patiently, takes a sip when you hand the drink to him. your eyes meet.

"so, what prompted the cat weed purchase?" he starts the conversation effortlessly, and you try to keep your eyes from wandering over the shape of him. now that he's just standing in front of you, you're noticing the way his sweater sits against his frame, his long legs and the way his head rests on an elegantly-proportioned neck.

"I just saw it and thought it would be fun." you shrug honestly. he smiles.

"do you think you're gonna let him try it again another time?"

"I don't know," you cross your arms over your chest. "I'm a little nervous, but he also was having a lot of fun until I made him sit still."

"fair enough." you both turn your gazes to the cat. he's nudging a little toy ball with his nose and watching it roll across the floor. there are tiny bells inside that jingle. Wes turns back to you. "what do you do?"

"graphic designer."

"an artist." he raises his brows, impressed.

"not exactly saving animal lives, but I get by." you take another sip of your drink.

"it's not like that, mostly." he rolls his eyes playfully.

"then what's it like?"

"I just see and talk to people's pets all day. it's a pretty great job, even when it's not. you know?" he's optimistic about it. you're drawn to his positive energy, to the way he smiles when he speaks like he's preparing to deliver a witty joke.

you're hopelessly attracted to him, and the space between you is becoming unbearable. even though he's a guy you just met, you can feel in your gut that something about this is just right. you want his body against yours.

"you okay?" he breaks what you only now realize is a silence, and you blink to clear the dirty images from your mind.

"yeah." only thinking about you fucking me against a countertop. it must be the fact that you haven't gotten laid in a while or something, because you usually aren't this attracted to people within the first hour. it takes longer for you to even want to kiss them.

"what kind of stuff do you design?" he seems genuinely interested as he shifts and continues to nurse his drink.

"I work for a tech startup downtown, so it's a lot of website work to make sure it's navigable and pretty." you try to sum up your duties, but it's hard when his hazel eyes are so intent. he listens to every word.

"do you do personal work, too? like, just for you?"

"actually, yeah!" this sparks your excitement.

"can I see?" his smile widens. "only if you're comfortable, of course."

"sure." you're beaming.

he stays put as you start to go out of the kitchen, but then you smile. "you can come with."

"oh." he sets his beer down on the counter and follows you, slightly surprised. but you don't care; you were nervous before, but he's stayed for this long. maybe he wants you, too.

once you get to your bedroom, you're grateful that it's been freshly cleaned. there's even a bouquet from the flower's market sitting on your dresser, and you head over to the desk to sift through the drawers for what you want.

"cool room." he compliments from the threshold. he's careful not to make you uncomfortable, but also can't resist the curiosity that draws his gaze from wall to wall. you find the stack of papers and smile.

"thanks," you place the folder in his hands. "these are some printed versions of stuff I did last year."

Wes immediately begins to flip through the art. him seeing your stuff makes you nervous, so you pretend to focus on straightening up the few items that sit on your desk. you wipe your fingertip over a nonexistent film of dust.

"these are amazing," he says, holding a card stock copy in between his index and middle fingers. "holy shit."

"thank you." you're trying to keep from smiling too hard. you can tell that he's being genuine with his compliments, and it makes your heart swell.

"definitely. are you showing anywhere?"

"at an exhibit downtown a couple months back, but I've been so busy with work that personal stuff hasn't really been on the table, you know?"

he nods in understanding and continues to go through until the end. when he's finished, he looks up and sees you, his eyes concentrated. he doesn't speak at first, and an undercurrent ripples across the room. there are about three feet between you, and you have no excuse to lessen it.

he licks his lips slowly. you purse yours, unsure of what to say.

"I'm glad you called tonight." his voice is lower, slightly uncertain, like he's testing the boundaries. except you don't want boundaries right now. you want to go wild on him.

"me, too." you reply. it's in your eyes, that begging for him to do what you're scared to initiate.

your tongue is pressed to the back of your teeth in anticipation. and when he sets the art back on your desk and comes closer, you feel yourself give in. bubbles of excitement travel up your body as he grabs your face and bends down to kiss you.

it's full, passionate, not the kind of kiss you give someone you've just met. laced with desire and longing, you respond immediately. hands immediately run to his forearms, over his shoulders as he imposes beautifully on your form. it's so hard, you lean back slightly. your torso presses against his until he pushes you against the wall.

the slight gasp that escapes your lips causes him to smile, followed by your moan and clutching fingers. the material of his sweater, the taste of him mingled with that sophisticated, gentle smell of cologne that you want printed all over your skin.

"come here." he murmurs against your mouth and reaches down to the back of your thigh so you can hook your leg around his waist. you whine at the easy access he has to grind against your core, both of you desperate.

"Wes." you pant into his open mouth. he sucks on your bottom lip before finding your cheek and jaw. his fingertips tighten around your flesh.

"this feel good, sweetheart?" he checks in. coincidentally, his jeans grind against your panties at exactly the right spot and your hips jump. you release a pleasured yelp.

"mhmm."

"sounds like it." he latches onto your throat with a possessive excitement. you can feel him sucking and biting at the skin until you're positive there'll be marks tomorrow. you hope there are; purpled evidence of his touch. he digs his nails into your thighs. "you like it when older men touch you, baby?"

he blows over your tender throat before attacking it again. you sigh contentedly at the way he mingles sensations for your pleasure. "yes."

he grunts and nips at your collarbone, sliding the strap of your top down your shoulder so that he can effortlessly flutter his lips over the skin. you grip at him and toss your head back against the wall. his weight on yours is divine. it makes you weak, but that doesn't matter. he's practically holding you up at this point.

when his hand pushes under the hem of your shirt and dances over your stomach, you arch your back for more. he's gentle yet firm, pulling you close like he wants to breathe your oxygen. he's tracing over your ribcage, all the way up to the valley of your breasts, before cupping one and moaning into your shoulder.

he kisses you again with an aching hunger that can't be satiated. your tongues meet and Wes finds your hardened nipples beneath the thin fabric of your bralette. you sigh while he starts to circle one with his thumb.

"you're perfect." he breathes.

you want to bask in this moment, to enjoy the shock across your skin when he reaches his hand back down between your bodies to dip below the waistband of your sweatpants, but you're just so greedy. he could make you cum over and over and it would never be enough.

"what do you want me to do to you?" Wes is hovering over your lower stomach, dangerously close to where you need him most. he's teasing. the warmth of his skin drives you mad. his breath brushes over the shell of your ear.

"fuck me." it's the only response you can fathom. every other instinct in your body flies out the window and is replaced by a craving to sink your proverbial (and literal) teeth into him.

but he loves it, apparently, because he pushes you back against the wall with a nearly bruising force. "I can do that."

with those words, he quickly grabs your other leg and lifts you into his arms, bringing you to the bed and laying you delicately on the mattress while you giggle. you stare up at him with an almost daydreamy lust. his cheeks are flushed.

you only get a second of that heavenly sight, though, before he dips down and pushes your shirt up to see your tits and kiss up the chasm between your ribs. his stubble tickles your skin, which causes you to smile.

by the time he's pulled your sweatpants off and tossed them to the side, you're whining for him to strip down as well.

"what is it, pretty girl?" he murmurs against your tummy. when you try to squeeze your thighs, he pushes them apart.

"I wanna see you." your fingertips touch at his sweater. he chuckles and pulls the garment over his head. it messes up his perfect hair even more and you love it, tangling your fingers in it. he bites his lip.

"do you want me to taste you first?" he keeps stroking the inside of your thighs and staring down at the skimpy lace that you're positive that you've already soaked. you're making him crazy with the way you roll your hips against air, against nothing, seeking any kind of stimulation.

"I can't wait." you shake your head. as nice as it would be, you're going to implode if he doesn't fill you up soon. he drags his fingers down your clothed slit and groans when he feels just how ready you are for him.

"let's take these off then, okay, sweetheart?" he hooks his fingers in the panties and waits for you to nod before tugging them down your legs. you whimper at the cool air that hits your core, soaked and needy. Wes stares at your body on display for him.

as he gets back up from the floor to kiss you again, you both work to remove the rest of his clothes. his skin is perfect under your hands. his chest is warm, solid, and when he climbs on top of you, his arms rest on either side of your head.

one hand comes down to grab his own cock and stroke it a few times before lowering himself to rub it against your throbbing clit. you whimper at the pressure; he's mindless when he feels how easily you cover him in your essence.

"so fucking wet..." he groans while rutting against you.

"Wes, please--" your breath hitches. "put it in."

"begging?" he teases your entrance with the head and smirks. "good girl."

"mhmm." you're smiling, but your mouth drops open when he pushes himself inside.

it's a heavy feeling, him filling you up. he's thick and the stretching of your walls makes him groan and rest his head on your shoulder. he kisses the skin there while diving deeper into your body.

you're shaking slightly from the mixture of pain and pleasure, his size forcing your body to work quickly to accommodate. your eyes are squeezed shut, but you run your hands over his back and shoulders to stay grounded. it feels like a dream.

he starts to pull out, coated in your wetness while you whimper below him, and he grabs your face with one hand in a dominant, soft gesture. "okay?"

"yeah."

he pushes back in. the air in your lungs is practically gone at this point, he's so deep inside. your eyes roll back and push your hips up to take him at a new angle. Wes finds his pace easily, rocking into your body at a manageable pace to let you get used to the sensation.

every time his hips roll down and he buries himself in you, he presses on your clit and sends a new shock through your body. he leans on his elbows to get closer and feel every undulation of your body. you love how his thrusts force your legs apart, how he moans your name and causes the headboard to repeatedly hit the wall while maintaining eye contact. hazel irises that rake over your features with lust.

"you feel so good." he speeds up a little when he hits a certain spot. you can feel him deep and hard, causing a small bump to rise in your stomach with each stroke. his voice is husky and dark. like a man starved.

"fuck..." you drag your nails down his back. he groans at the red marks that you will no doubt leave for him.

"clingy thing, huh?" he sucks at your throat affectionately. "I come over for one thing and you can't help yourself."

hearing Wes speak through his own panting is like listening to a secret, and you never want it to stop. he's reveling in the sordid crush of his own wants, and the way he shoves into you shows you that he has no intention of slowing down for a while.

"I'm impatient." you smirk. he pulls away to admire your expression.

"so am I." he kisses your lips and starts to pound into you. the juxtaposition of his tenderness and the sharp snap of his hips to yours fills you with butterflies. you love how much he wants to ruin you.

"Wes-- oh my god!" you whimper. he grabs your hips and yanks them closer to him so he can go as deep as possible, so he can hit your cervix.

"that's right, sweetheart," he pants. you can tell that he's starting to lose control. "say my name. I want everyone to know what a good little slut you are for me."

the commanding tone makes your body shake. "I- I'm cumming, Wes, please--"

"please what, baby?" he taunts. his index finger is tracing over your jaw.

you don't know what it is that you're wanting, except more. as your form shudders and tightens, walls fluttering around his cock, you lose the capacity to speak. you grind your hips against him and cry out pathetically while he pushes you back down and slams ruthlessly into your pussy.

"cum inside-- please, I need it--" you writhe. he groans at the request.

"fuck, yes..." he sheathes himself. "take it."

you gasp as he repeatedly hits your weakest point and spills hot ropes of his cum inside you, still thrusting in and out and whimpering into your shoulder at the clenching sensation you give his cock. it's warm, strangely delightful, nearly sending you into another orgasm sheerly from the sight.

he mutters unintelligibly as he empties himself in your pussy, but you catch a growled "so needy," between deep moans. you're clinging to him like you'll never have it again. you might not.

he slows down, giving shallower thrusts while riding out his high and shoving his cum deeper inside. it turns lazy and messy, both of you panting, before he finally pulls out and rolls over next to you.

you press the back of your hand to your forehead. it's sweaty from all the work he just put you through, but you feel amazing at the same time. your eyes keep flickering from the ceiling above to his rising and falling chest beside you. his nose twitches; he turns his head to look at your face.

although you expect him to say something, he doesn't. instead, you just stare at each other. the air conditioner rattles gently in the background. you're not sure how long this lasts, this soaking in, but he's the first to break it.

"hey."

you find the corners of your lips turning up. "hi."

"do you mind if I go get something to clean you up?" he asks softly, his fingertips finding your forearm with ease and drifting over it.

"sure. bathroom is the first door on the left."

he gets up and you watch him gather his clothes, eyes glued to his perfect form. you can't believe you just had sex with your veterinarian. you don't regret it at all.

he wanders out of the room and your eyes follow, only to see Klimt sitting patiently by the door.

"what are you doing, perv?" you tease as he comes over and leaps up onto the bed. his kitten paws pad over the blankets and settle into the crook of your arm. you smile to yourself, recalling how sweet the vet was with him. "hey, Wes?" you call out.

"yeah?" he comes back into the room with a warm washcloth and a small smile on his face.

"would you wanna get coffee or something sometime?" you bite your lip. maybe he doesn't want to go on a date, but it's worth a shot.

"sure." he breaks into a grin that makes you giddy. thank god, because you really were hoping to see him again.

you can't wait.

taglist (lmk about adding/removal or add yourself to the list here!): @jareids @reidsconverse @xoxomgg @may-b-a-u-shewritestoo @la-vie-en-amour1 @g0lden-cth @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @kisseslikecoffee @spenxerslut @slutforthegubes @spookydrreid @depressedgothgrl @flipper-kisses @multixfandomwriter @willowrose99 @gingeraleluke @chasemoonlight @spencerreid9

#matthew gray gubler #mgg #mgg x reader #wes x reader #wes dollface #mgg smut #mgg fluff #mgg character smut #mgg characters #dollface

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eideticmemory · 3 years ago

Text

TWO GHOSTS IV | MATTHEW GUBLER

It’s been 15 years. 15 years has to be long enough . . . right? Read PART 3.

Set 15 years after the end of Ever Since New York, so give that a read first!

Word Count: 3.9k.

Warning: Usual angst, porn, and poor communication amongst characters.

SOUNDTRACK:

Love Affair - UMI

Debt - Eliza McLamb

Sometimes Sunshine - Seasalt

A nonstop flight, from New York City to Los Angeles, is three hours long. On a good day. And May 16 was supposed to be a good day. A great day. The best day of Matthew’s life. He tries not to think about it, not to reminisce too often. About the way he walked through the airport with a little jog, a little pep in his step. And the way he smiled through security, and constantly checked behind him as if you would magically appear. The roses he bought for you in a gift shop near the terminal.

See, a nonstop flight from New York City to Los Angeles is three hours long. On a good day. But Matthew wasn’t looking for three hours. He wasn’t asking you for a few hours of your time, or even a good day. He was asking you for a lifetime.

And that day, he had booked you two a connecting flight that totaled over six hours, with a two hour layover in Colorado. There was a little ice cream shop in the Denver airport, and they served blueberry ice cream. Matthew remembered it was your favorite, and saved just enough money to get your tickets and an entire pint. He couldn’t shake the thought of flying across the country with you, seeing a few small parts of it at a time. A few small parts at a time, until someday, you two had seen the whole world together.

He bought a blanket for you and, while waiting at the terminal, he sat it in the seat beside him, keeping it warm for when you would arrive. He had a little itinerary written in his notes app, and so far everything was going to plan. He had a bouquet of roses in his lap, and he killed time by looking up engagement rings online.

He didn’t start to worry until maybe, an hour, an hour and a half before the plane was set to depart. He called you, just to check in, and it went straight to voicemail. But he was still hopeful. There was very little that could destroy his peace that day. His hope. His happiness.

He tries not to think about it. The way the seconds inched by like a caterpillar moving across the limb of a tree. Slowly, painfully. The way his hope dwindled, and dwindled, and the insane amount of times he heard,

Hey, it’s [y/n]! Leave a message!

He can’t think about it anymore. The way he spents those six hours alone. Bawling his way through flight after flight, and eating a pint of blueberry ice cream by himself. He spent hours on his own. And weeks, months, hell, he spent years thinking that maybe, just maybe, you would find your way back to him.That the universe would magically correct itself.

And you’d come home.

Fifteen.

It took him fifteen years to find you again. It took fifteen years for the universe to bring you back together, and Matthew spent the first five thinking it was all some really shitty nightmare. It took him fifteen years to get close to you, to hear you say his name again, to get inside of you again.

And he managed to fuck it all up in a matter of twenty-four hours.

His body is paralyzed. His mind is moving a mile a minute, and he can’t take his eyes off the ceiling. His chest feels tight, like he can’t breathe properly. He knows he should not feel sorry for himself. That he, alone, is responsible for this wreck. But he can’t seem to shake it. He can’t seem to move.

“What the hell did I do?”

A knock at your door wakes you up. You don’t remember falling asleep, you don’t know how you were able to. But now, it’s all you want to do. You want to stay in the bed, in a state of unconsciousness and dreariness where you can’t remember your mistakes. But someone is knocking. Incessantly, loudly. And they won’t stop.

You roll out of bed, and drag your body across the floor. Zombie like, your shoulders are slouched, your eyes are hooded. Your feet shuffle along the floor like they’re weighted to the hardwood. Your footsteps are slow, hesitant. You don’t know what you’ll do if Matthew is on the other side of that door. You just . . . you don’t know. The very thought of it is making your stomach churn, and you suddenly feel very, very nauseous. The banging continues, and it’s as someone is using all their force. Like they’d break the door down if they could.

“[y/n]!”

You instantly relax at the sound of her voice. You speed up, hurry to the door, “[y/n] [y/l/n]! I know you can hear me! Open up!”

The door swings open and you catch her with her fist in the air, ready to strike the door once again. She’s pissed, doesn’t try to hide it, couldn’t hide it even if she tried.

“Good morning,” you rasp.

“It’s one in the afternoon,” she corrects you, pushing her way into your home.

“Please,” you say, shutting the door behind her. “Come on in.”

“Y’know,” Everest starts, clasping her hands in front of her as a wild look graces her face. “You’ve always been one of the good ones . . . hell, you’ve been . . . great, if that’s the word. You’re better than the others. The ones that really write my checks. But, um, you’re testing me, [y/n].”

You don’t even have to ask.

“Now, if there’s is some magical relationship blooming, or a monumental disaster about to strike, then you need to tell me now, so I can fix it. I’m a fixer, you know, that’s what I do. So, why are you making this so hard for me?”

“If it . . .” you clear your throat, cross your arms as you stare at her feet. “If it makes you feel any better, um, this is hard for me, too.” You attempt to joke. But you just sound sad.

“Yeah?” she raises her eyebrows. “So hard that you come out of his hotel in tears? And what the hell were you doing over there anyway? Was there a plan? Did he call you to come over?”

“I don’t see how any of this matters.”

“It matters because I woke up at seven in the morning — on a saturday — to all sorts of choas and speculation, and picture evidence of you doing exactly what I told you not to do!”

“Yeah, well, I’m a idiot. Don’t worry, that’s been established.”

“The internet is undefeated. Okay? People are . . . great at making up stories, making assumptions. And as your publicist, I need to know the whole story, the real story, before it gets twisted even further.”

You sigh, and walk over to the couch. As you sit down, you pull a pillow into your lap for just a little bit of comfort. “What do you mean the whole story?”

“Wrong choice of words,” Everest says. “The important parts of the whole story. Like are you dating him? Are you fucking him? If so, how long has this been going on?”

You can’t make eye contact as you speak, “I . . . fucked . . . him . . . a few times, a long time ago . . .”

She nods. She motions at you to continue, “. . . And?”

“And . . .” you breathe out. “I fucked him, again. Recently.”

“Last night? At the hotel?”

“Last night . . . not at the hotel.”

“Sooo, when? — Oh, my God,” she lowers her eyebrows at you, purses her lips. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did,” you nod. It’s a shameful nod. “You know they say there’s no sex like sex in a dressing room.”

“They also say polka dots are making a comeback, you believe everything you hear?”

“Sorry.”

“So you fuck him in the dressing room, and?”

“And . . . we go our seperate ways . . . again. And, then I realize that’s a lot easier said then done, so I . . . I go for him. I go for him . . .” Everest can hear the way your voice is cracking, the way the weight on your shoulder is slowly pushing the air out of your lungs. “And, uh,” you clear your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, it didn’t work out. Hence the . . . photos of me crying, I guess.”

“Mm,” she nods, crosses her arms. “And the other girl?”

You freeze, cut your head up at her. “What other girl?”

“What do you mean? The girls that came out right behind you. Same sad face? Kinda got a Natalie Portman look to her?”

“I . . .” you shake your head. “I didn’t know she came out after me, I must have left by then.”

“Who is she?”

You give her a shrug, “I don’t know.”

“His girlfriend?”

You huff, “Guess so.”

“Ah, so, some people online actually got it right. Huh, look at that.”

“Look, if the point of all of this is to keep me away from him, you can stop now. I don’t plan on seeing him ever again.”

The doorbell rings, as if on queue, and Everest instantly gives you a look. “What?” you ask. “I don’t know who it is. Your guess is as good as mine.”

She scoffs at you, and turns around, marching towards the door with a certain determination. She pulls it open, and immediately puts her hand on her hip. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Oh,” Matthew gasps. “Uh, oh . . . fuck . . . sorry, I must — I must have the wrong house.”

“You sure do, Romeo.”

You stand from the couch, your face laced with shock and anger and confusion, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Don’t engage, [y/n], what the hell?” Everest interjects.

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “How the hell did you find my house?” you direct at Matthew.

“Oh, what?” he scoffs. “Like you’re the only one around here who can play stalker?”

“Go home, Matthew.”

“Five minutes. I’m asking you for five minutes. You can time me if you want.”

“Go back to California, Matthew.”

“Look, I know I fucked up. I know, but —“

“Do you?” you snap. You take slow, calculated steps towards the front door, and your voice is lowering to a rumble. “Do you know that you fucked up? Because, if you did, if you truly knew just how badly you fucked up, then you would leave. You would get on a fucking plane and leave, and you would never come back!”

The way Matthew is looking at you right now.Like he can’t fathom what’s happening. Like he is trying his very best not to feel defeated. “Can I . . . can I just —“

“No.” Everest says. “You heard her. Fuck off, string bean.”

You walk away, retiring to your kitchen. You try to keep yourself busy, but you’re trembling like mad and you can barely breathe.

Matthew leaves. You know because you hear the door close. Everest comes into the kitchen, and you feel stuck. Frozen to the spot and position you’re in. Your back is to her, and you can’t begin to imagine or guess what look is on her face right now.

She’s quiet for a moment, eyeing you with her arms crossed at her chest. She leans against the entryway and sighs, “Tell me more.”

Ramona walks up your driveway, and it isn’t until she looks up from her phone that she sees Matthew. She notices him, and he notices her, and Ramona tries to act like it didn’t happen, But when Matthew opens his mouth to speak, she blows past him, “I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

“I know,” he says instantly. He is well aware, but it doesn’t stop him from running in front of her, blocking her from your front door. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, but . . . please, can you give this [y/n]?”

Matthew holds out an envelope. It’s bright red, your name is printed on the front of it in his handwriting.

Ramona glances at it, but she quickly glances back up, “Do I look like a mailman to you?”

“She won’t take it from me. She won’t talk to me. She might take it from you.”

“Yeah, or she might fire me for even taking it from you in the first place.”

“[y/n] wouldn’t do that.”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s usually pretty amazing, except for when you’re around, or when you’re brought up, or when you’re fucking with her head. You make her a different person, dude. I want no part of it.”

He nods, looks down, “Fair enough . . . I’ll put it in her mailbox.”

“Yeah, why don’t you do that?” She shrugs, and she continues on by him.

“Damn . . .” Everest says. “You ghosted the guy at the airport?”

“Basically,” you shrug.

“Well, fuck,” she scoffs. “That is some serious great gatsby shit.”

“Yeah, we’ve always had a flair for the dramatic.”

The doorbell rings, and you both turn your heads sharply towards the entrance. “You don’t think he would come back, do you?” Everest asks as she walks to the door.

“Well, he never listens much to anything I say, but he’s probably a little scared of you.”

She laughs, and when she opens the door, she tells you it’s only Ramona, who walks in quickly, looking for you. She gives you a soft smile, and joins you in the kitchen as Everest follows close behind.

“So,” Ramona pips. “What’s the game plan?”

“You and [y/n] come to my office in the city and we’ll figure it out. Hey, did you pass him on your way out?” Everest asks her.

“Uh, who?”

“Matthew,” you tell her. “He was just here, you didn’t see him?”

“He was here?” Ramona questions, putting on a look of bewilderment. “When?”

“Just now. He left right before you got here.” Everest explains.

“Holy shit,” Ramona says. “What’d he want?”

“[y/n].”

“So,” you interrupt. “Your office? Now? We can go ahead and get going.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Everest stops you in your tracks, throwing her hands up. “Not so fast, you . . . you need to shower first.”

You look down at your outfit. You’re still dressed in Claire’s clothes and they’re completely disheveled. You haven’t showered or brushed your teeth since the last time you had sex, and the very thought makes you feel dirty. You look exactly how you feel. You sigh, “Fair enough.”

“We’ll wait in the car,” Everest nods, and motions to Ramona to follow her.

“What are we gonna do with her?” she says to Ramona as soon as they’re out of the house and walking down the driveway.

“I don’t know, she’s my boss . . . I can only help so much.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve known [y/n] for a long time now, and she’s never needed saving. But, something tells me we’re going to have to keep her away from this one.”

“From Matthew?” Ramona stops in her tracks.

“Well,” Everest stops, turns around to look at her. “She’s a grown woman. She’ll do what she wants. But, that zombie in there,” she motions to the house. “Who walks around the city in her pajamas for a man, is not [y/n]. Atleast, not the world’s [y/n]. People love her. She’s one of the few celebrities that’s kind and passionate and isn’t problematic. I’m just being proactive here.”

“Proactive?”

“She says she’s done with him. She told him she’s done with him. Now, we will just keep her on that path. Few months later, she and the rest of the world forget this ever happened and everything is back to normal.”

“You sound very sure of all of this.”

“Yeah, well, I like my schedules and I happen to like [y/n] so I better be sure. Come on, our ride’s further down the driveway,” Everest continues walking. While Ramona is stuck in place.

“Hey! Uh,” Ramona stutters, suddenly, loudly, causing Everest to turn around once again. “I think I left my water bottle in the house. I’ll meet you in the car?”

“Okay,” Everest eyes her. “It’s just around the corner. And tell [y/n] to hurry up.”

“I will!”

Ramona waits for Everest to continue down the driveway, and when she’s just far enough, Ramona turns around and acts as if she’s walking back up to your front door. When she’s positive Everest has made it to the car, she runs over to your mailbox. She opens it slowly, so it doesn’t creak as loud. The bright red envelope is the only thing in there, and she takes it out quickly. She looks at it for a moment, asks herself what the hell she’s doing. But she doesn’t have time to think right now, you could walk out at any moment. She closes your mailbox, shoves the envelope in her bag, and walks down the driveway.

Matthew Gubler, himself, is a disruption in the space-time continuum.

When you start tallying up the days, it just doesn’t make sense. Some days, every second feels like it’s crawling by. You’ll be in class, at the head of the class, and you’re surprised when your lesson plan ends atleast ten minutes early. And some days, time moves too fast. You find yourself running late for things, events, important people or things, which isn’t like you.

You call it Matthew Brain, and you keep that term to yourself. It happened fifteen years ago. And it’s happening now. It’s a slow, steady descent back to earth, back to reality. Time isn’t real with him, and you think that’s the reason you can’t remember much of your senior year. It’s a rush, a high to even be near him, and it’s the ultimate collapse when he’s gone. Really gone. Out of the life, for the second time.

Time has reset.

And what feels like one month with Matthew Gubler, only turns out to be four days.

You’re on a journey back to earth, and you haven’t even reached the bottom yet. It’s coming, but not now, you thought. You have time to prepare. And this time you’ll be ready. Ready to hit rock bottom, and spend another fifteen years digging yourself out. You have time, you’re sure of it.

Then Ramona comes into your office. She notices you crying, and you have to twirl around in your chair while you wipe the tears away. “Shit, Ro,” you try to laugh. “What’s up?”

“Uh, your afternoon class?” she reminds you. “With the girls at the community center? . . . What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

A lot. Not anything that you can really talk to Ramona about. And each day is something different. Like today, you’re feeling like a fucking idiot. You feel unbelievably stupid and lost and question why anyone in their right mind would choose to learn anything from you. You feel defeated, and you can’t get the look on that girl’s face out of your head.

You turn to Ramona with a soft smile, “I’m fine. I forgot about the class, thank you for reminding me. I just have to grab a few things before I go.”

“Well,” she sets her bag down in one of the chairs on the opposite side of your desk. She takes a seat in the other, “You’ve got some time, I haven’t even called the ride yet.”

You eye her, suspicious furrowing your eyebrows, “Oh, don’t do that.”

“Do what?” she seems genuinely confused.

“Sit there and feel sorry for me. I don’t need pity. I’m alright.”

“I’ve never seen you cry before . . . I’m just worried.”

“And I appreciate that, kid, I really do. But you don’t have to be, alright?”

“. . . okay.” she shrugs.

“Anyways,” you change the subject. “How much time do I have until I’ve gotta be out of here?”

“Um, I can call you a ride now, it should be here in about, ten minutes?” Ramona pulls her phone from her pocket, and holds it up as she dials the number.

“Sounds good,” you nod.

She leaves the room to make the call, and when she closes the door, you release a big sigh. As if you’d been holding it in the whole time she was here. You get up from your chair, and walk around the desk. Not paying attention, you stub your toe into the adjacent chair, so hard that the chair falls to the ground.

“Ow! Son of a b—“ your yelp is cut off by a painful groan, and your reach down to hold your foot. You look out in front of you, and Ramona’s entire bag has spilled out across the floor. “Fuck,” you mumble and instantly begin to clean it up.

It’s bright red. And it sticks out like a sore thumb. You reach over to grab it, but only because you recognized his hand writing. You run your fingers over your name, and your head is starting to hurt from the amount of pure confusion.

The door swings open, “Okay, they’ll be here in fifteen, but you have some wiggle room —“ Ramona stops when she sees the item in your hand.

You stand up straight, look her in the eye. She’s shaking. She’s trembling, and there are already tears in her eyes.

“I . . . can explain,” she says.

“Then explain.”

“Matthew . . . wanted me to — to give that to you.”

“When?”

“When, um, when he was at your house on Saturday.”

“You said you didn’t see him. You acted like you didn’t even know he had been there. You took this from him?” your voice goes up at slight octave. Not by much, but it stills cuts Ramona like a knife.

“No! No, I didn’t take it from him. I told him to put it in the mailbox. Which he did, but then I . . .”

“You? You what? Went into my mailbox and took it? Are you kidding?”

“It was crazy! I know! It was absolutely insane of me! But—But Everest was saying all these things about protecting your image, and being proactive, I just wanted to help. I thought —“

“Everest? Everest knew about this?”

“No. No. I took it when she wasn’t looking, and I just, I thought maybe if you didn’t know about the letter, you would be able to move on, y’know? Heal.”

“That was not your decision to make.”

“I know. [y/n], I’m so sorry. I can’t — I can’t even begin —“

“You’re right,” you interrupt her. “You can’t.”

You look down at the envelope in your hands, and shake your head. “God, Ro, I can barely look at you right now.”

“I’m sorry . . .”

You nod.

“I’ll . . . go wait for the car,” she nods, sadly and apologetically exiting the room.

You close the door behind her, and press your back against it. You slide to the floor, and bring the evelope close to your face. The day is not over, and you may need all night to take this in. You are not mentally prepared for whatever is in your hands, but, you rip it open anyway.

There’s a thin piece of paper inside. You pick it up, and it feels so frail that you worry it might rip. You set it on top of the envelope, and examine it. Your eyes dot over the page, until you realize, it’s not a letter at all.

American Airlines

[y/n] [y/l/n]

Seat: 14A

May Sixteenth, 2002

It’s a plane ticket. From fifteen years ago.

One you’ve never seen.

One you’ve never touched.

And now that it’s in your hands, you wish you never knew it existed.

#mgg #esny #tg #mine

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hoes4dylanobrien · 2 years ago

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Mets Dylan (AU miniseries) 3/?

a/n: so being in New England myself I may have made Dylan a dunkin donuts kinda guy? Idk if he is tho, but I like the idea of it. LMK if you wanna be on my new taglist for this fic, friends :3

tw: Dylan being cute hungover, swearing

taglist: @roxic93

You idled in the office parking lot, debating whether or not to go in.

You were fairly sure what this was about. The picture that girl posted online that was quickly making headlines everywhere after being taken up by TMZ. You, a nobody, caught in a compromising position with your client, Mets star baseball player Dylan O’Brien.

It was not the best situation to find yourself in, especially after what you’d been trying to do went up in flames. You were more angry with yourself than Dylan, though. He was who he was, which was a womanizing dick most of the time. It was his M.O. He was predictable, in a sense. And that was why you were angry: you should have known better. He was doing what he was always doing, but for you to have gotten caught up in it, in those stupid mesmerizing eyes... It was only a moment, but it may have cost you everything. You knew it didn’t look good (even though NOTHING happened...) but your employer wouldn’t see it that way, and so you felt it was the calm before the storm. The dreadful thought that you may just leave here without a job crossed your mind.

Your phone lit up with several texts then.

A few from friends wanting to know the tea, one from Ray, your boss, that said I know you’re out there, y/n, I can SEE you from my desk... stop picking around and get your ass in here (yeah, your boss was pretty casual with you) and one from He Shall Not Be Named (childish on your part, you recognized).

Can you stop at dunks on the way there, i’m feelin munchkin today

You rolled your eyes so hard they went back in your head. The audacity of the asshole.

He saw you read it, and sent one text after the other:

hello????

answer me

y/nnnnnn

y/n, I can literally see you reading my texts. this is important. need to know my Dunkin's will be there. and ask for extra caramel drip on the macchiato, you know the one

You’d had it up to here with him, and couldn’t help shooting off a quick text.

I’m not your fucking maid or your executive assistant, Dylan. Ask them to get it, or, here’s a concept, get your grown ass your own Mighty Macchiato. You can certainly afford it.

The dot, dot, dots appeared. Then:

see now I'm worried you didnt say iced. You know I don’t drink hot coffee y/n

:((((

You looked up, muted your phone, and may or may not have screamed out loud.

Putting on your big girl panties after a good pep talk to yourself, you approached the front door and step inside. The doorman, Chris, greeted you with a smile. ‘Hey y/n, good to see you. How was the weekend?”

“Oh, you know...same old same old.” You didn’t elaborate. He nodded understandingly, and, judging by the look on his face you could tell he saw the story but thankfully didn’t ask about it. “Yours?”

“My grand baby was home. My daughter and her husband were visiting, so we got some good family time. Had us a good barbecue. DIdn’t want to leave ‘em to come in today.”

“Oh, wow, good for you! How old is she now? Lizzie?”

“Seven,” he said proudly. “That’s wild, I remember seeing her around the office back when she was only three, I can’t believe how fast she’s growing!”

“You’re tellin’ me!” He snorted.

“Well, I’m sure they had a wonderful time with you. Did they leave already?”

"Yeah, Eric - my son-in-law - was needed back at work so they packed up and left early this morning.”

Your phone buzzed again. There were an embarrassingly long stream of texts from Dylan, who apparently thought you were still talking to him, and the boss, who was now calling. He must really be steamed.

“Business calls?”

“Shit, yeah. Sorry, gotta jet. It was nice catching up though!”

“You take care now, Miss y/n.” He winked at your retreating form.

"I’m on my way,” you said by way of greeting as the elevator doors closed behind you.“Good. Because we’ve got a pile of shit on our hands.”

I sighed. “I know.”

“You really screwed up.”

“I know,” you repeated.

He just gave a long sigh, ending the call abruptly.

Out of habit you checked your social media, surprised to see several hundred new followers, and an inbox full of messages from both bots and real people wanting to know the scoop. Well, that didnt take long to identify you. Huffing, you almost put your phone away when you saw another text flash across the screen, figuring it was probably Dylan again harassing you with his Dunkin Donuts order that was really not happening. But it was somebody else:

I saw you in the news, so sorry that happened to you! I’m here if you’d like to talk, or not. I know I’m supposed to wait 3 days before asking for another date but life's short and I really enjoyed your company.

So James didn't see the picture and assume the worst. You were so thankful, and realized you were smiling as you prepared to text him back when the elevator doors opened.

Your coworkers all turned toward you as you walked by them, whispering. Your work bestie, Annika, was waiting by your cubicle, heels tapping, practically twitching at the prospect of getting the dish.

“Girl, you gotta tell me-

But before you could answer her, before you even had a chance to place your things on your desk, your boss was calling your name.

Everyone seemed to quiet then, not used to hearing the laid-back man so angry.

Annika mimed a drink, and you nodded subtly as you walked backwards toward Ray’s office. You’d be catching up with her after work, or if your luck turned, at a long boozy lunch after you were laid off.

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rukia-writes · 3 years ago

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Sugar daddy! Askeladd x college student! (Fem) Reader

Plot: Being Askeladd’s sugar baby is a hassle but an adventure. But at the end of the day Askeladd always treats his sugar baby like a princess.

Setting: modern au

Warnings: no minors 🔞, smut, rough sex, , daddy kink, two sex scenes, dirty (filth) talk, breeding kink (slightly), language, sugar daddy x sugar baby relationship, jealous sex (Slightly protective Askeladd)

Nervous.

The sweet college student was nervously in a home that she had been staying in for a little over year now. The home was quite beautiful and was in the upscale area of the city.

However, that wasn’t why she was nervous.

“You failed one of your exams.”

“Yes-but I still passed the class.”

Grimacing at the word “fail” (Name) tried to make the situation better as her sugar daddy looked at a piece of paper that her grades on it, his blue eyes looked up from the paper to his sweet sugar baby that had won him over. Askeladd had to admit she was beautiful and she was smart, and it was just one exam.

“Do better next time.”

“I will, don’t worry.”

Askeladd heard the sigh of relief leave her as she promised to do better in her classes, no doubt the sigh of relief was because she thought Askeladd would cut off all finances as it was his policy.

“You sound relieved.”

“I am, I thought for sure you would discipline me.”

“No need, it’s not that serious.”

Askeladd gave the paper back as he walked in the kitchen with (Name) following close behind followed by her clearing her throat. Looking behind him he saw her smiling at him while batting her eyelashes with a smile.

“What’s with that look?”

“Well, I don’t want to be a bother but…you haven’t given me monthly allowance yet.”

The sweetness of her voice made Askeladd smirk as he thought it was cute how she asked for her monthly allowance. Even though she should have been used to it by now, still Askeladd scratched his chin and tilted his head back. This only caused (Name) to worry.

“Didn’t I just give you..what was it. That Italian car..”

“..Your Lamborghini? That doesn’t count-that was a gift. Remember? You said “This is my gift to you.”…before you..you know.”

(Name) then became bashful as she looked down at the ground at the thought of what happened afterwards, Askeladd smirked in a teasing manner as he played as though he forgot.

“I seemed to have forgot. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“It’s not important. My allowance please.”

“Allowance? Never heard of it. What’s that?”

Askeladd continue to act as though he had no idea what (Name) was talking about as he poured himself something to drink. Pouting (Name) knew this would happen as Askeladd did this every time she asked for her allowance.

“Come on, you know what I’m talking about. I need it for the bills.”

“I have them too (Name). And I believe a certain college student has been getting rather spoiled with all the trips lately.”

“You told me to do that!”

Askeladd heard (Name) shout at him shocked he said such a lie, chuckling the handsome sugar daddy downed the beer he took out refrigerator as explained how important it was. Still Askeladd continued to play as he walked to his room now with (Name) following close behind until she sat on his bed and smiled.

“Fine then, I’ll just find another daddy to spoil me.”

“No one can spoil you like I can baby and that’s a fact.”

(Name) was taken back by Askeladd’s words as he was quick and blunt, it kindly turned her on and Askeladd knew this as he was close finishing his beer and gave a slight chuckle.

“You want your money huh? I’ll do it now, that’ll satisfy you.”

Watching (Name) saw Askeladd take out his phone and tap the screen a few times before her cellphone vibrated in her pocket as she then looked at the screen and saw Askeladd had made the deposit and had actually gave her a bit more than usual.

“Thank you, but you didn’t have to give me so much.”

“Oh, but I did. For the amazing time you gave me in my office last week.”

Askeladd chuckled as he remembered how amazing his sugar baby sucked his cock while in his office, it was against work policy but Askeladd couldn’t help it. (Name) was so bashful as she motioned for Askeladd to come her with her index finger. Not one for denying his sugar baby Askeladd obliged and before long he was in between his sugar baby’s legs.

In truth, (Name) was more than just Askeladd’s sugar baby she was practically a princess, his princess.

It wasn’t long before Askeladd had her legs on his shoulders with him ontop of her fucking her with his cock buried balls deep inside her while his sugar baby was simply enjoying the feel of Askeladd’s cock.

Askeladd watched (Name)’s breasts move up and down that matched his thrusts as he fucked her how she wanted. Askeladd was enjoying himself as he would tell her “Good girl. Good fucking girl.” While repeatedly lightly patting her cheek, moaning a “fuck” when he felt her needy cunt squeeze around his cock that was already leaking cum inside her.

(Name) was in a world of her own as her mind was blank as the only thing she cared about was Askeladd’s cock, her toes curling was something she didn’t know she doing until much later. Soon enough, (Name) was thanking Askeladd saying “Thank you, for the cock.” Askeladd felt his ego rise as he continued to mercilessly fuck his sugar baby on his bed, muttering a response of simply “Anytime.”

Before long, Askeladd heard his sugar baby mutter a “right there, daddy” a button that she knew if Askeladd heard she wouldn’t hear the end of it and after a year of denying her kink she finally said it. Smirking Askeladd stopped his thrusts completely as he watched and heard (Name) practically beg him to keep going but refused as he kept his cock still.

“Say it agin.”

“Again?”

“Oh? I thought you wanted my cock? Don’t want it anymore?”

Askeladd teased again as his right hand went to her throat, he didn’t press he just placed his hand there.

“I do-I ..I fuck me daddy.”

(Name) was emberassed but the lust had completely set in and she just wanted to be fucked again. Askeladd wasn’t pleased and he wanted to hear her say it more and he was going to as he continued the pace it once was. Like before, (Name) was in Askeladd’s hands once more and he was able to make her call him daddy. Everytime she would say his name instead of “daddy” he threatened to slow his pace down, thinking to himself he would teach her what he wanted hear to say while she took his cock.

The thought sent Askeladd into a blind lust that he moaned a dragged out “I’ll fill you up with my cum.” And “I’ll cum into your sweet pussy until I can’t anymore, princess.” Askeladd wasn’t loud but he wasn’t quiet either as he heard (Name) whimper and almost cry “Yes daddy” whenever he spoke.

Askeladd’s hands were now on her waist and he tilted his head back as his thrusts became erratic and wild as though it didn’t matter how many times he thrusted inside of her it wasn’t enough.

“Askel-daddy I’m going to cum if you keep this up!”

“That’s what I want, princess.”

Askeladd replied back as he was just using (Name)’s body for his own pleasure now as he never felt so good in any woman. A college student who needed his help was what Askeladd had fallen for even though that wasn’t part of the deal. Nonetheless, Both reached their orgasm in a rush as the pleasure ran thru their veins as (Name) felt Askeladd’s cock twitch with excitement as his cum filled her cunt so much she wasn’t for sure when her sugar daddy would stop.

“So good.”

Both stated at the same time as they tried to catch their breath.

A few days later, (Name) was at the bank with her mother doing her monthly bills as she talked to everyone at the bank. More like, everyone talked to her as she was friendly with everyone and everyone loves to see her. (Name) was currently at the receptionist desk writing a expensive check for her mother since she didn’t believe doing online banking.

The receptionist was just going to take the check but was stopped by a familiar CEO, who saw (Name) and her mother come in. It was a man by the name of Roald who had just recently become friends with (Name) telling the sweet receptionist that he would deposit the check instead, which was fine with her as she wanted to take a break.

It was also a good thing he did arrive because the check was to above what she could deposit and needed a boss anyway.

“Why are you depositing all this money?”

“It’s my mother’s birthday today and I wanted to do something nice.”

Roald looked at (Name) then back to the check then back to her before finally going ahead and depositing the check by running it thru a small machine. In the mean time the two talked and joked with each other. Roald did flirt with her, (Name) was sweet and good looking girl but she never lead him on or would reject him if he asked for a date.

He was a bit persistent.

“(Name), sweetie. I wanted you to meet my friend.”

(Name) heard her mother call for her and tap her on the shoulder turning around (Name) wasn’t expecting to see Askeladd and a beautiful woman beside him. (Name) felt her blood run cold as her sugar daddy was right in front of her.

“This is my friend, Lydia and her son Askeladd. I just met the young man today.”

“It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Lydia and this is my son Askeladd.”

The woman stuck out her hand for (Name) to shake and she did with a smile even though she was nervous. Askeladd on the other hand, found this all amusing. Who would have thought their mothers had known each other for 4 years now, that was what Askeladd had found out.

“Since it’s your birthday today why don’t we all go out for lunch. My treat.”

Lydia offered with a sweet smile as (Name)’s mother took her up on her offer making (Name) nervous as she looked at Askeladd who was still calm about everything as a matter of fact the man offered to pay for dinner instead of Lydia which both women enjoyed even more and before they left nearly the whole bank waved (Name)’s mother goodbye.

When the two arrived at a high end restaurant (Name)’s mother was so relieved to get out the car as she had never been in a sports car, much less a luxury sports car that was just too fast for her. Lydia checked on her by rubbing her back, a little chuckle left (Name) as she did drive a bit fast. But her smirk disappeared once she heard Lydia’s voice.

“That car looks like my son’s old car.”

(Name) almost froze as she saw Lydia look at her car, however Askeladd mentioned that (Name) must have great taste when she got the car and Lydia agreed. The whole thing made (Name) nervous as she was having breakfast not only with her sugar daddy but his mother and hers as well, this wasn’t what (Name) was expecting when she woke up this morning.

As the two mothers talked and had their tea while sitting beside each other, Askeladd was sitting beside her at the table. From what (Name) could tell Askeladd seemed to be calm but when the two women were too enamored in their conversation he placed his hand on her thigh getting her attention.

“Did you have fun at the bank this morning?”

“I wouldn’t say fun.”

“Really? You seemed happy with that one fellow.”

Fellow.

(Name) knew from the tone of Askeladd’s voice that he wasn’t too thrilled about seeing her talking with a handsome man, much less one with just as much influence as he had.

“You’re not jealous are you? He’s just a friend at the bank.”

“Not at all, I was just curious. What’s his name?”

(Name) could tell Askeladd wasn’t Roald’s biggest fan as she could tell from the way Askeladd was acting. Smiling at the handsome blonde man she happily gave him answer.

“The handsome guy who works at the bank.”

Askeladd chuckled and didn’t inquire about Roald anymore that would come much later.

No.

Askeladd was a cunning man and knew when to strike at the right time.

Morning was always ideal.

Right in his kitchen, of course.

The wealthy business man had his sugar baby over the kitchen counter with his cock deep inside her cunt, repeatedly hitting her g-spot as his hands massaged her breasts making her moan a loud. Whispering in her ear “Tell me who he is.” Or “You can tell me baby girl.”

Even though she would whimper back “he’s just a friend.” Over and over again her sugar daddy wasn’t happy with her answer and that was fine. The man knew his sugar baby wouldn’t leave him any time soon for anyone, he treated her too good as he would later on that day spoil her with more money and maybe another round of sex.

But as of right now he would enjoy his sugar baby’s cunt and afterwards he would visit the bank.

✨Rukia-Writes✨

#Askeladd x reader #askeladd x you #vs x reader

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years ago

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The Call

This was another request: So y/n is younger than Cill, she overs here's a call he's on with his management basically trying to convince him to leave her, so she goes upstairs to pack up because well she's not staying around when she's not wanted & Cillian finds her doing this and he's like no no no let me show me how much I want you around 😉

Warnings - talk of separation, smut

Turning the key in the lock you carefully opened the door as quietly as possible. Knowing Cillian, he was taking a nap in the lounge and you didn't want to disturb him. 12 hour days filming six days a week, he'd come home yesterday completely exhausted.

Instead of his light snoring, you were surprised to hear him talking on Skype to his agent in the study across the hallway. You smiled, before making your way to the door to let him know you were home, bottle of wine in hand when you froze.

"So, I'd get more scripts if I wasn't with y/n?" You heard Cillian ask his agent. You didn't move, you could barely breathe.

"Cillian, this is having a severe impact on your credibility! Producers aren't taking you seriously anymore, they're seeing you as a sugar daddy! Y/n is barely out of university, and you're pushing 50 here!" His agent was almost laughing.. you were sure you even heard Cillian chuckle at one point.

"Right... So it looks like we've got this all figured out then doesn't it?"

"Absolutely!! It's so simple Cill, everyone loves a single Dad!"

You'd heard enough. Tears burning your eyes, you tiptoed up the stairs, still with the wine in your hand, and made your way to your bedroom. Once you were sure you were out of earshot you allowed a sob to leave you as you leaned against the closed door, before grabbing an overnight bag from the closet. Taking a deep breath, and opening the wine to take a quick slug from it, you started to pack. All those times he'd told you he loved you... You completed him... Lies! He'd exchange you for Hollywood in a heartbeat!!! Well no... This wasn't going down that way - there's no way he's breaking YOUR heart when you can break HIS first....

Taking another swig from the bottle you took another deep breath and continued packing, not realising how loud your footsteps had become. The bedroom door suddenly swung open, and Cillian stood in the doorway, completely confused.

"Er... Y/n? Everything okay up here? I didn't hear you come home?"

"I didn't want to disturb your call.. you sounded busy." You voice was as deadpan as you could make it. You couldn't even look at him.

"Are you going somewhere?" You stopped, tears escaping your eyes too quickly to stop them.

"I heard you... I heard the call Cillian..."

"What call?" He approached you from behind and tried to put his arms around you but you pulled away. Turning to face him, you brought a hand up to slap the side of his face. "The fuck y/n?!?" You'd never slapped him before.. part of you felt an instant regret but the anger was burning inside you.

"Don't fucking play dumb with me, I heard you!! You'd get more scripts if you didn't have the 25year old homewrecker on your arm! You'd be more credibility as a single Dad!" Cillians eyes widened.. no... No no no..

"How much of that call did you hear, exactly?"

"Enough!!"

"Wrong!! You didn't hear fucking HALF of it!! You didn't hear me end the call, did you?" His voice raised now. "When I told him never to call me again. Never to even claim to represent me. That he was fired?? Did you hear that??" You stood frozen again, looking into his eyes. Your tears were drying up, but his looked close to spilling. "To have someone try and tell me how to live my life... Tell me who I can and can't spend my life with... he did the same thing with Natalie.. he wants me to be an eternal bachelor... that my career would take off if I wasn't seeing someone 20 years younger..." His voiced cracked at the thought of losing you.

"It worked with Natalie. Yes, she was the mother of my kids, but there was never a real connection with her.. I allowed it to happen without realising he was responsible for it... But you? I can't live without you y/n... The age difference has never bothered me.." he walked towards you again, pulling the bottle of wine out your hand and placing it on the chest of drawers in the corner. Picking the handles up on the overnight bag on your bed and throwing it to the floor. Needed it out of the way for what he was about to do.

"How do I know you won't change your mind one day? How do I know you mean it? You could trade me in for a younger model one day!"

"I'll show you how much I want you, and will always want you - close your eyes." His voice took a darker tone now, which always drove you wild. You closed you eyes as you felt his lips slowly start to kiss down your neck.. he turned you back round again so your back was pressing against his chest, as his fingers began to unbutton your blouse. "Keep them closed, baby..." He saw your eyelids flutter in the full length mirror in front of you both. He pulled your blouse off and let it fall to the floor, swiftly followed by your bra. Your jeans and panties soon came down your legs too, and he brought himself back up minus his T shirt.. his now bare chest hair tickling your back making you giggle.

His hands explored your upper whole body... Pressing your breasts, kneading them gently and loving hearing the moans of complete passion emitting from your beautiful lips... Before sinking a hand down to rest between your thighs, gently tapping them to allow him access. Happily granting it, he sunk a finger down to collect as much moisture as he could before circling your clit expertly, knowing exactly how to make you squirm underneath him. Holding you firmly round the waist with one hand, as the other mercilessly assaulted the small bundle of nerves between your legs, you squeezed your eyes closer together and allowed your head to fall back onto his shoulder. You couldn't move from the waist down, he had such a tight grip on you.

"Fuck... Cill... Keep going.. don't stop... Oh god..." He smiled, kissing into your bare neck as your moans became louder, he could feel your core burning now... You felt your orgasm screaming from inside as Cillian increased the pace.

"I've got you... Open those eyes baby.. watch yourself cum on my fingers, yeah?" You opened them to see yourself in the mirror, Cillians hand buried between your thighs and you couldn't help but feel the pure eroticism from it - fuck his hand looked good there.... Within seconds you could feel that orgasm approaching, no stopping it, it completely drowned you as your tried to buck your hips, held in place by Cillians strong arms. He swiftly inserted two fingers inside you, feeling your walls clench around them as you came hard over his hand. Twitching those fingers upwards slightly to find that sweet spot, making you cry out again.

"No more.... I wanna taste you now..." You span round to face him and kissed him, tongues clashing together as you fiddled with the buttons on his jeans - his erection clear as day through the fabric. They dropped to the floor and you followed, still in front of the mirror as you took him down your throat, teeth catching along the way gently. His hands coming to rest in your hair.

"Ah... Holy fuck y/n..." You groaned into his cock as your hands rolled his balls between your fingers, emitting more groans from above you. "Stop baby... Need to fuck you now y/n... Let me in yeah..." He lifted you up to stand again, before backing you onto the bed. Opening your legs he lined himself up and pushed inside, condoms long gone since you'd moved in together. If it happened, it happened.

Taking it slow, he moved his hips against yours, trying to find that sweet spot inside again. He heard you gasp, there it was. Your fingernails dug into his back, and his thrusts became almost maniacal - he was pounding you with reckless abandon now, making your screams echo off the walls. Thank fuck your neighbours weren't home... He wasn't holding back now - sitting up on his knees, he lifted your hips for deeper access, thumb rubbing your swollen clit to bring you your second orgasm. You clenched your cunt round his cock hard, squeezing him, watching his eyes squint and mouth gasp as you did..

"Need to cum y/n... Cum with me.... Let me feel it all over me...."

"I'm coming... I am... Baby I'm gonna..." You had no voice now as your second orgasm exploded through you, and Cillians followed with a loud groan as he collapsed on top of you, kisses raining back down your neck, gentler this time. Lifting his head to rest it over yours, he looked into your eyes softly.

"Don't ever feel like you're not enough for me y/n... Promise me?" You nodded in agreement.

"Don't trade me in for a younger model when I turn 40, and you've got a deal Mr Murphy." You tried to hold back a laugh but couldn't help it, both of you now chuckling.

"Don't get Botox or any of that crazy weird shit, and you've got a deal."

"Don't be coming near me with ANYTHING from Ann Summers, and you've got a deal." He pouted. Clearly busted looking at the costumes online.

Both of you fell silent. A comfortable silence that you both sank into, before rolling under the covers to nap together.

"You're stuck with me now, you know that? I'm agentless, I might never work again!" He laughed again, and so did you.

"That's okay, save a fortune on childcare." He smiled. That was true. After spending so much time away from his boys as young kids, he was looking forward to spending as much time as possible with a new baby, if they were lucky enough to have one together. Despite his age, he felt he had plenty of time left for another baby.

"I hope it happens, you'll be an amazing mother y/n. I can't wait." A loving hand over your, for now empty, stomach, you felt butterflies. Embracing him as he lay behind you, you both fell into a deep sleep, surrounded by dreams of your own little family.

@queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @cloudofdisney @margoo0 @being-worthy

#cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x you #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy #cillian x smut

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haus-seeblick · 3 years ago

Text

Suptober Day 2: No Vacancy

Title: Backroad Romance

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,119

Tags: First Kiss, Dean Winchester and Castiel are Alone in the Dark, Mild Angst With a Happy Ending, Sam Ships It, Making out in the Impala

On AO3 Here

“You’re shittin’ me, Sammy.” Dean groans and smacks the steering wheel with his palm. “There’s no room in the whole place?”

Sam’s voice floats into the Impala, high and tinny over the burner phone’s speakers. “No vacancy, Dean, I’m sorry, I checked with them three times--”

“--Nah, nah, it’s cool, we believe you,” Dean interrupts, cradling the phone between shoulder and ear so he can rub his face while steering around a bend. Cas reaches over and deftly slips the phone away, fingers pinched like he’s removing a block from a Jenga tower.

“Did you and Eileen find accommodations?” Cas asks, holding the phone out in front of him so Dean can listen in.

There’s a short pause, then: “Yeah… yeah, we did, but guys, the room is really small, like, a closet, I swear, and there’s only one bed, and--”

This time it’s Cas who interrupts. “--and you wish to engage in private romantic activities. Dean and I completely understand.”

They’re on a straight stretch of highway, but Dean still manages to swerve clumsily into the shoulder. He hastily course-corrects and bites down the urge to snap at Cas for-- for what? For talking like that? For using his deep, rough voice to say any words even vaguely related to--

No. It’s not Cas’ fault that everything he does steadily turns Dean into more and more of a creep. Dean shakes his head firmly and tunes back in to the conversation just in time to catch Sam awkwardly stumbling over his reply. Dean leans over, cutting him off with a whistle into the phone.

“We’ll be fine, little brother. Be a gentleman. Don’t hog the sheets. Girl like Eileen doesn’t come around every day.”

He can feel the bitchface radiating through the speaker and motions at Cas to hang up. Cas frowns and gravely says “Dean would like to end the conversation. Goodbye, Sam,” before flipping the phone shut. He drops it into the cupholder.

Dean makes a show of focusing on the road to avoid looking at Cas. He knows Cas is staring at him; it’s just something the guy does, sitting in the passenger seat and gazing at Dean as if the whole world isn’t flashing by outside.

Dean’s long stopped commenting on it. Let the dude stare.

He clears his throat. “We’ll probably have to find a logging road or something. Pull in and hole up for the night.”

“All right,” Cas replies. He opens the glovebox and pulls out the local map they picked up this afternoon when they rolled into Matlock, Washington, to investigate a haunted post office. It was a gray, dinky, bleak town and the poor ghost lurking around the mailroom seemed more melancholy than anything. She allowed them to dispatch her into the afterlife with very little struggle; that is, after some creative sweet-talking by Sam.

Eileen had teased Sam mercilessly about it before Dean had even gotten a chance. That’s how Dean knows she’s The One.

There was, of course, no motel in town. Sam and Eileen hit the road before Dean and Cas, because Dean insisted on getting a burger for dinner at the tiny diner on Main Street (a mistake). Now he’s staring down the barrel of a night alone with Cas, in cramped quarters, on a dark backroad. If they hadn’t already driven all day to get to Matlock, Dean would push on until they found a motel with vacancies, but he’s exhausted and Cas is just human enough these days to actually be tired too.

“There’s an access road nearby,” Cas says, tracing the map with his index finger. “In a quarter mile. Left.”

Dean follows his directions and sure enough, there’s a bumpy logging road branching off from the highway, stretching deep into the pitch-black trees. Dean pulls in about five hundred feet before turning off the lights and the ignition.

It’s silent. The darkness is all-encompassing, pressing in on Dean, so heavy it’s like he can feel it on his eyelids when he blinks. He takes a slightly shaky breath. Cas is utterly still, as usual, not a single rustle or exhale indicating his presence in the gloom, but Dean feels him there as intensely as he’d feel a roaring bonfire. His heart thuds in his ears.

Why is he freaking out? He’s slept in the car with Sam a million times. But even as he thinks that, he knows, he knows, that this is different. His brain starts whirling through logistics -- who’s gonna take the back seat? Is Cas even gonna sleep the whole night? Or will he wake up and just sit there, staring at Dean for hours, inches away?

Dean needs to shut off his brain. He taps the seat and says “Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean,” comes the immediate response, measured and reassuring. “Would you like to talk?”

Relaxing against the seat and slinging an arm over the backrest, Dean peers over to the passenger side. “Sure.”

The moon’s out tonight, far above the trees, and the grayscale of nighttime slowly bleeds into view as Dean’s eyes adjust. He can just make out the sharp angle of Cas’ nose, the slope of his chest and the outline of his hands folded in his lap. He’s always so upright, so proper. Dean wonders what it would feel like to undo him.

“Are Sam and Eileen having sex?”

Dean chokes on air. Sputtering, he braces himself on the seat and coughs until his eyes stop watering. “What?” he wheezes. “Why-- Dude, why would you ask that?”

He sees Cas turn his head to regard him. Even in the dark, Dean can imagine the piercing gaze.

“It was unclear to me what you meant by ‘be a gentleman.’” Cas lifts his hands to shape the finger quotes. “I assumed the two of them would take advantage of their privacy to engage in physical intimacy. Was your comment meant to discourage Sam from having sex?”

Dean throws up his hands desperately. “Okay-- okay, first of all, quit talking about my brother doing it. And second, no, I wasn’t ‘discouraging’ him, just reminding him to treat Eileen like a lady. You know, romance her a little.”

The darkness is a godsend as Dean’s cheeks flush hotter with every word. He’s surprised they’re not glowing. He taps the seat in a random pattern as Cas sits quietly, seemingly digesting the information.

When he responds, it’s slow and thoughtful. “In the pornography I’ve watched, the participants always begin undressing one another rather quickly. And in my own experiences, there has been very little that I would label ‘romantic.’ What is classified as ‘romance,’ Dean?”

Well, shit. The last of Dean’s composure evaporates, sizzles away like a drop of water meeting his burning face. He drops his head into his hands and groans.

Cas leans forward, his knee brushing Dean’s. “Have I made you uncomfortable?” he asks, voice laden with concern.

Dean’s throat is tight, his fingers sweaty against his forehead. He forces himself to take a deep breath and to at least open his eyes against the shadow of his palms. “Uh-- no. No, Cas. You, uh-- you should be able to ask that kinda stuff. Human stuff. I get that it’s, uh-- it’s important to know. For, y’know. So you can--”

There’s a hand on his knee. A warm, strong hand. Long fingers. Weighty. Dean’s heart kicks into overdrive. He slowly, very slowly, lowers his hands to peek at Cas.

“How do you like to be romanced, Dean?”

There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing in Dean’s brain. It’s a chamber of silence. A void. He stares at the outline of Cas’ wild hair, mouth slightly open.

“...Dean?” The hand on his knee shifts slightly and Dean’s blank brain runs zero interference as his own hand darts out and stills the one threatening to leave his leg. As soon as his skin makes contact with Cas’, though, everything zings back online in a rushing roar.

Play it off, Winchester. Crack a joke. C’mon. “Hah, funny, buddy, you really got me there--”

“--Kissing’s nice.”

He snaps his mouth shut too late. The words float away, unrecoverable.

Cas tilts his head. Then, slowly, very slowly, as if he’s afraid of spooking Dean, he turns his hand around under Dean’s so that they’re palm to palm. An invitation.

With a pounding heart, Dean accepts it. He laces their fingers together. His palm feels even sweatier when it’s rubbing up against Cas’ dry, smooth skin.

Sexy, Dean. Way to go.

Somehow, even though it was Cas asking the questions, he’s the one leading now, shifting closer, laying his left arm along the backrest behind Dean’s shoulders. Their faces are so close that they’re sharing air, just two shadows suspended in a frozen moment.

“May I kiss you?” Cas murmurs gently, his breath washing over Dean’s lips. It smells like rain-refreshed air, like a promise of sunshine, alleviating the weight of the darkness. Dean tentatively chases it with his tongue, wetting his lips and leaving them parted.

“Yeah,” he whispers back. Because fuck, he wants this. He’s wanted this for so long.

And Cas wants it, too.

Dean always imagined that his first kiss with Cas would be an inferno, fireworks, showering sparks, all those cliches. That it would yank him from his body and send him floating through the ether.

It’s not like any of that. It’s better. It’s real.

Cas’ lips are just lips -- a little more chapped than Dean’s used to, perhaps, but they meet his in a familiar brush, followed by the typical tentative press, leading into a hesitant swipe of the tongue.

He’s kissing Cas. Cas, who he’s built up in his head for so long as this untouchable, impossible ideal, who stormed Hell to drag him out, who smote demons with his bare hands, who is so inconceivably old that Dean should be just a speck of sand under his eternal gaze.

Instead, that same Cas is busy dragging his fingers down the side of Dean’s neck. A crest of goosebumps follow, shivers trailing down Dean’s torso, and he gasps a quivery breath against Cas’ lips. He’s not used to being led. Normally he’s the one in charge, giving as good as he gets, focused on hitting the highlights, satisfying his partner. There’s a whole formula.

He’s never trembled like this before.

“Dean,” Cas whispers against his mouth, reverent, his voice somehow gravelly even as a breath. He suddenly pulls his hand free from Dean’s and grips his bicep, dropping his other arm from the backrest to wrap around Dean’s waist. Without preamble, he twists, tugging Dean across his lap. Dean yelps and hurriedly adjusts his legs, ending up with his knees on the seat, straddling Cas’ thighs. His fingers and toes are zinging in excitement.

Goddamn. Who knew being manhandled would do it for him?

The crown of his head presses against the roof of the car and he slouches forward until their foreheads are touching. He pushes his hands into Cas’ hair.

Cas surges forward again, nudging Dean’s head to the side and pressing his lips to Dean’s neck. Dean groans, low and shaky, as Cas parts his lips and sucks a trail up to Dean’s earlobe, his tongue soothing in the wake of his mouth, dragging over every mark that he coaxes to the surface. Dean knows his neck will be littered with bruises tomorrow, but he finds he can’t bring himself to care, not when Cas’ teeth are busy grazing the shell of his ear.

“Jeez, Cas,” he breathes, dropping his forehead to Cas’ shoulder. He's hard already, hips twitching a little, but he keeps his hands firmly in Cas’ hair, tugging the soft, thick strands, guiding Cas’ mouth back down to his neck. His pulse hammers under each press of chapped lips.

He pulls back and captures Cas’ mouth again, sliding his tongue into that wet heat. They trade open-mouthed kisses, a bit sloppy, while Cas’ hands glide up Dean’s back under his flannel. Dean’s absolutely flying, his pounding heart easily winning the battle against the tiny voice in his head dredging up reasons to stop, reasons to run.

He wants to stay .

Their kisses have escalated to a panting, frenzied give-and-take, and Dean’s tired of hunching over. He drops his hands onto Cas’ shoulders and starts leaning back over to the driver’s seat, trying to pull Cas on top of him. Cas whines when their lips separate, but he catches on quickly. A little too quickly. He grips Dean’s waist and shifts him along the bench seat with such force that Dean’s arm goes flying and his elbow smacks right into the middle of the steering wheel.

The horn blares, rending the night.

Both Dean and Cas jerk upright, instantly on high alert. Reality takes a moment to catch up with them.

Cas recovers first. “That startled me,” he says, voice wrecked.

Dean lets out a long breath. He’s still got one leg up on the seat, the other one cramped awkwardly next to the steering wheel. He drags a hand across his face and lets out a breathy laugh. The next thing he knows, he’s doubled over, laughing so hard his cheeks hurt and his eyes water.

He’s just so goddamn happy.

Cas watches him, head tilted in the shadows. Dean lets his laughter run its course, petering out with a sigh of mirth and hand slapped on Cas’ knee.

“What a night, huh?” he says.

Cas lifts a hand and strokes Dean’s cheek with his knuckles. Even after all that making out, this one gesture seems inordinately intimate. But Dean just smiles.

Cas swipes his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone one more time before slowly, almost reluctantly, letting his hand fall. “You need to sleep.”

Dean nods and glances into the backseat. “You do too, don’t you? At least a bit? Maybe we can both fit back there.”

They get out of the car -- the cool night air rushes into Dean’s lungs and fizzes through his chest, bringing the events of the past half hour into blood-rich focus in his brain. He steels himself for the freakout, for the doubt and the deflection, but it doesn’t come. He feels right.

They crawl into the backseat, awkwardly shuffling and shifting, ending up with Cas sitting mostly upright (insisting that he’s fine) and Dean laid out on the seat with his head in Cas’ lap.

He drops off to sleep faster than he has a long time, Cas’ long fingers carding through his hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s the light that wakes him, pale gray seeping under his lashes and rousing him from a blissfully dreamless sleep. He lifts his head and immediately winces -- his neck is stiff as a board and his back aches all the way down to his tailbone. He’s really getting too old to be sleeping in the car.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean twists around and peers blearily up at Cas, who’s gazing down at him with one of his rare enigmatic smiles. Dean yawns and stretches as best he can, his back popping. He pushes himself up until he’s sitting next to Cas.

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

Cas leans over and, before Dean can react, presses a warm, dry kiss to Dean’s cheek.

Sore body or not, this is the best morning of Dean’s life.

They extract themselves from the backseat and stumble into the damp early-morning air. Dean pops the collar of his flannel after a single glance into the side mirror. He’s got a lot of hickies.

They take a second to stretch (Dean admires the way Cas’ pecs shift under his dress shirt as he reaches for the sky) before sliding into the front seat. Dean backs them out of the logging road, the verdant green pines on either side nearly overwhelming his night-accustomed eyes.

Cas calls Sam as they roar down the highway again. It’s only 5 a.m., but Dean handed Cas the phone and told him to give Sam a wakeup call. The kid deserves it after a good night’s sleep in a real bed.

They pull into the parking lot of the Cedar Crest Motel just past 5:30. Dean ends up having to park on the street, though, because the lot’s at capacity, not a single spot unoccupied. He pats Baby in apology as he leaves her, and he and Cas make their way to the room number that a very irritated, cranky Sam snapped at them over the phone.

They’ve almost reached it when Dean suddenly stops dead. He grabs Cas’ arm. Cas shoots him a questioning glance.

“Look." Dean points up at the motel sign. There, huge red letters, blinking through the pale morning light, spell out a clear VACANCY.

“It’s hardly been six hours," Dean says. "No one would’ve checked out in the middle of the night.”

Suspicion rising rapidly, he strides to Sam’s door and knocks as obnoxiously as he can. As soon as the door creaks open, he reaches through and grabs Sam’s shirt, yanking him outside. Sam protests and slaps at Dean with one hand, shoving his bird’s nest hair out of his face with the other.

“What the hell, Dean!”

Dean just throws one arm up at the sign, staring at Sam with raised eyebrows. As soon as Sam sees what he’s pointing at, he shrinks into what Dean immediately recognizes as guilty little brother posture. He’s not even trying to hide it.

Sam clears his throat awkwardly, eyes darting between Dean and Sam, before holding out a placating hand. “I just-- I just thought, maybe you could use some time alone,” he explains hastily, backing up a bit into the room. “If we all ended up here, Dean, you’d insist that we share, you know you would.”

Dean knows Sam’s right (he’s careful with their fake money, so sue him), but he keeps glaring regardless.

“I just wanted some time with Eileen,” Sam mumbles, deflating a bit. “And I thought, y’know, with how you and Cas have been acting lately, that you’d-- uh, that you’d want some time together, too.”

Dean sputters. “Acting? We-- what--”

“Thank you, Sam,” Cas says, deep voice cutting off Dean’s protests. “We had a very pleasant night.”

Sam’s eyes widen and he straightens up, a knowing grin stretching over his face. His eyes dart to Dean’s popped collar. “Oh yeah? Did you now?”

Dean shoves him into the room and slams the door shut. There. He turns to Cas, who looks amused.

“Give me at least a couple days before blabbing to my brother,” Dean says, but he finds himself smiling. Cas nods. He reaches out and takes Dean’s hand, just for a moment, squeezing before letting it fall again.

“Of course, Dean.”

#suptober21 #no vacancy #gotta love some cramped car kissing #scheming sam strikes again #destiel fanfic

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tinyyoungblood · 4 years ago

Note

don’t be shy,

post sum of those drafts

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

a/n: you asked and you shall receive. here are very random scraps that i pieced together and somehow it worked lol enjoy x

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the avengers on long bus rides

long bus rides are the only times where the world is balanced and at peace (forced smile from steve)

it’s also the only times when everyone will chime in on those sea shanties that steve loves so much, so that’s a plus

the team knows that their captain is a sea shanty WHORE so they always go all out for him and do harmonies and quite impressive choreos

once they’ve run out of sea shanties, they switch to musicals and it’s kind of like football jocks meet theatre kids

everyone has their troy bolten moment at some point, but it’s loki who really shines

he gets really passionate and ends up singing all parts and no one can blame him because mans got the voice of an angel and he knows it

nat is super supportive and cheers him on while recording everything. no one questions why she has a folder on her phone that is called “blackmail material”

tony likes to show his support by throwing money at loki

the others reenact that scene from harry potter where harry tries to catch hogwarts letters falling from the ceiling although there are loads of them perfectly lying on the floor

they fight tooth and nail to catch the money with a ferocity that puts the gods in shame

peter shoots his webs to pin the dollar bills to the wall like he suddenly got a lifelong supply of them and clint acts like his arrows are made of harmless rubber

rhodey joins in, puts on his suit, and almost blasts happy ✨to death✨while trying to catch a one-dollar bill

happy swerve the bus off a cliff and someone screams

(it was loki)

wanda has to save them and proceeds to bench them all for an hour

bucky, friend to no vehicles, is grumpy the entire time but y/n has made it her temporary calling to cheer him up

“i don’t like vehicles and this is why” *y/n whips out a duffel bag and slaps it* “yea, well, but what are your thoughts on sudokus”

bucky curls up in the back like the senior citizen that he is, sandwiched between y/n and bruce with a lifelong supply of sudokus scattered around him

they quietly help each other out and it’s very wholesome

tony and peter can fall asleep anywhere on the bus with their necks and limbs turned at all kinds of unnatural angles and sam winces before tearing his eyes from them

he makes a mental note to buy them neck pillows

nat suggests playing ‘i spy’ because it seems less lethal than the yellow car game but clint, sam, and thor get way too enthusiastic about it

they have their faces pressed against the window, eyes wide and unblinking, unaware that they’re frightening half of the people sitting in the passing cars

at some point, they lose all sense and just randomly name everything

“i spy with my little eye something that is red” “that car” “no” “that car” “no” “clint’s sweater” “it’s not—” “bucky’s pen, the flowERS, MY SHOES, THE SKY”

rhodey and nat are surprisingly good at that game and their calm demeanour drives the others insane

“fine. i spy with my stupid little eye something that is amber—” “bottom left button on the inside of loki’s overcoat, try again”

wanda and vision are in charge of lunch and handing out lunch boxes to everyone is a delight to them and a very. scary experience for the rest of the team

“here you go, buck. a turkey sandwich with cut off crust and extra tomatoes” “oh you didn’t have to cut off—” “😠but you like it. don’t you😠” “...yes”

peter and y/n are sharing a seat and y/n shows him her online purchases on her phone. peter is really sweet the entire time and comments on everything with genuine interest until rhodey pipes up from behind them

“you ordered new shoes? y/n, you don’t even go outside enough to justify wearing shoes”

they shush him and proceed to share headphones to listen to peter’s current favourite songs

at some point, tony announces, “alright ladies and gentlegerms, cap is making us stop the bus so we can get out and go for a two-mile jog through the woods *unenthusiastic jazz hands* if anyone wants to fling us off a cliff again, now is the time, i repeat—”

they still end up running and it’s insufferable. it’s hot and musty and just ~unpleasant~

somehow the avengers have evolved into a chaotic Debate Team and now they’re discussing who gets to be carried by thor and bucky

at an intersection, the two of them stop to catch their breath and they’re both just staring at each other, sweaty and covered in avengers hanging off their limbs

thor, prying loki off his back: “i’m sorry but we’re gonna have to do something different here”

y/n is hopping off bucky’s back when there’s suddenly a loud, ugly sound reverberating through the forest, followed by many footsteps that seem to come closer by the second

they run

branches keep tearing at their skin as they bolt through the woods but they’re not stopping because it’s clear what is happening right now

they’re being chased by wild boars

at this point they’re just embracing death and if they survive it’s a bonus

a boar comes running towards bucky and wanda but bucky “i have been falling for 90 years and i’m sick of it” barnes stares it straight in the eye, daring it to knock them over and the boar just squirms and make a u-turn

another wild boar seems to have decided that clint is not part of the herd because it sends clint FLYING in a quite impressive and beautiful arc

steve tries to ditch clint and train the boar

clint wasn’t hurt by the fall, but he stares at steve as if he might as well have broken a rib

they’re back on the bus and happy cocks a brow when he sees that everyone is exhausted and covered in dirt. he chooses to say nothing when nat climbs in with loki half-leaning on her for support and glaring broodily at the floor

everyone just wants to sleep and forget that the avengers were almost defeated by boars but bruce and sam keep bickering in the front row

“it’s too bright in here” “it’s the sun” “the lights get too noisy” “…what” “make it stop” “what do you want me to do?? turn off the sun???”

peter and y/n are huddled in a seat again, sharing headphones to drone out the noise and the moment he hits play, y/n looks at him blankly

peter, shrugging: “what? my 7 songs still go hard”

* * *

what are your seven songs that still go hard? pls tell me bc i desperately need new music <3 stay hydrated pals

hc masterlist

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imaginesmai · 4 years ago

Note

heyy, thank you for answering the request!💜sending it again: I want to request a quarantine angst imagine with tom, something like the reader is alone in her apartment, while Tom is staying in his with the boys, so she is calling him constantly because she feels lonely and the boys start teasing, so he starts to treat reader differently and someday when he thinks the call is over he says she’s clingy or something, reader hear what he said, feel awfully and stops talking to him

This doesn’t come late, this comes completely out of time. I needed a time out of Tumblr, because I didn’t enjoy writing anymore. Hope you enjoy this! I changed it a bit since we’re not longer in complete lockdown, but it has the same basic plot!

Oceans between us

You waited patiently as Tom finished his conversation with Harry, who had just appeared through the corner of your call and had taken your boyfriend’s attention away. It was an important conversation, you could understand so much, because Tom had muted himself while they talked so you couldn’t hear what they were saying. You were okay with it, really, because you understood that in his line of work he had to keep some stuff hidden until the movies came out. And you had had your fair share of early spoilers from him to accept it.

The problem was that minutes were tickling, and now there was another person in the room – a boy you hadn’t met before, that was laughing behind Tom. It seemed that, whatever they were talking about, was funny.

“Tom?” you tried again in a small voice, not feeling like continuing the call anymore. You looked at the time above the screen – ten minutes since he muted himself.

Either he had turned off the sound, or he ignored you.

In a burst of irritation, you left the couch and went over to the kitchen, your dog following you close. He sniffed your legs and sat while you took a glass of water and leaned against the sink – if he wanted to talk to you again, you could hear it from there. Manchee, the adorable puppy you had gotten a year ago, seemed to catch that there was something wrong with his owner, so he rubbed his nose against your bare leg.

“It’s fine. We talked this morning, it’s not like I haven’t seen him for days” you smiled at him, trying to get yourself to believe your words. “Besides, he has every right to be busy too. Not his fault that I’m stuck”

But it wasn’t your fault, either. One of your classmates in college had tested positive in covid almost a month ago. Your class had been sent home the next day, and you had been quarantined for 15 days – but the quarantine passed, and the classes remained online because the situation in your country got worse, which meant you could only go out grocery shopping, go the doctor in case of need or to work if you were a essential worked. Since the two last situations weren’t given, you were stuck in your small, rented apartment, going out only once a day to take your dog for a short walk.

The first days were hard, and now it had only gotten worse. You were bored out of your mind, tired and sick of being inside. You cried more often than not, and since your family didn’t have the technology to facetime you, the only person you saw beside your reflection in the mirror was your boyfriend. Tom, who was away in another country filming and busy, and who lately seemed to ignore you more often than not.

As expected, because it wasn’t the first time you had to do so, you ended the call, watching a last minute of an empty camera because Tom had left his phone in the room as he went somewhere else.

“We could restart Vampire Diaries”

A bark.

“Watch Mamma Mia? A classic, never grows old”

Another back, this time louder.

“Not a huge fan of me dancing, fine. I respect that – I don’t share it, but alright. Baking?”

More dog noises.

“Of course, you’re up to anything that involves food. When this ends, I’m getting you on a diet. I promise” you said, and you swore Manchee made a protesting noise. “What was that? The greatest showman? You have the best ideas, Manch”

Manchee ran out of the room as you searched for the movie on Netflix, and you didn’t hear him again. As you watched the movie, you kept looking at your phone, hoping to see a message for him and imagining what would it feel like if he called you back. You didn’t want to be a possessive girlfriend, but it hurt when he wasn’t there now that you needed him the most. Rubbing the suspicious wet feeling on your eyes, you put the phone face down and tried to enjoy the movie, even if it was the third time you watched it in a month.

As expected, he didn’t call you. You held your pride together and spent the next day giving him radio silence – no calls, no messages, nothing. You took Manchee for a walk, who found a squirrel in the park and made you run behind him. You bought the essentials in the supermarket, that was empty, and went back to an apartment that wasn’t your home. As expected, Manchee ate half of your food when you went to the bathroom, and jumped into the shower when you were it. It seemed that he knew you were having a bad day, so he even cuddled in your lap when you sat down to do some college work.

Wednesday came and left, without talking to Tom. By then, your pride held some deep wounds because Tom hadn’t talked to you again. You had received two messages, a good morning and night, and if he noticed you hadn’t answered, he didn’t care. It was almost night time when you decided to call him. After the second try, you were met with the ceiling of an unknown room and voices you didn’t know.

“ – again. What is she? Three?” someone laughed, but you couldn’t see anything. “My nephew is more independent, and she hasn’t started school yet!”

“Dude, I remember a chick I went on a date with” another deep voice said, and you understood Tom had picked up your call without meaning too. Still thinking what to say, the new person kept talking. “She sent me a message right after I left her in her house. And when I didn’t reply, she called me in the morning. I mean, I know I’m irresistible, but I need space!”

“She’s not usually like this, I swear” Tom chuckled, and you smiled just from hearing his voice. Again, you didn’t have time to say anything because he kept talking. “She’s just… we’ve been away for a while, and Y/N’s country is in lockdown, so she’s bored”

“That doesn’t give you the right to call you every second of the day, dude! Last week she called you three times. And yesterday you were on the phone with her for a whole hour” the first boy said. You didn’t bother cleaning the gathering tears on your eyes. “She’s way too dependent”

“She’s big clingy, that’s all. We live in different countries, so it’s hard for us. And, I mean, if she – “

“Dude”

You let the phone fall on the couch and you moved out of the camera, barely in time to cover your mouth and cover the sob breaking free. Probably, you were exaggerating, but you felt as if the world was crashing down. Everything was blurry and you breath was stuck in your throat, and you wanted so desperately to dig a hole and die there. Yes, you were clingy. And yes, you called Tom three times a day. But you were alone, away from home and in an awful pandemic situation that could bring anyone down. Before you could move to end the call, the person who had interrupted Tom talked again.

“The phone – you’re on a call”

There was silence, so wide and deep that you could hear a pin drop. And now they could hear the muffled sounds of someone crying. You saw the camera moving from where you were sitting, and you went to hang up before anyone could see that you had heard the conversation – because if there was something worse than getting stepped on, is to know that people have watched it too. T

Tom’s face came into view, wide eyes and open mouth. He looked pale, shocked, and you had barely time to hear the begging of your name before you hang up. The phone rang again, twice. Two facetimes, three calls. Tom kept calling, messaging you, and you lost track of how many times he called you, until you finally turned off the phone.

Manchee came back to the couch, licking the tears out of your face and whining when your body racked with sobs. He looked surprised when the phone went crashing against the wall, but didn’t go after it. Instead, he squeezed himself in the couch beside you, and you cried your hear out.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Tom Holland and Peter Parker Taglist

@delicately-important-trash

@lexxxistrips

@aikaterrina

@zalladane

@gypsystuf (since you didn’t answer me, I just put you on the general taglist. Let me know if you want to change!)

@nikkixostan

@galaxystern08

@justifymyfeelings

@dummiesshort

@marvelhoesworld

@wild-rose-35

@lou-la-lou

@avngrsinitiative

@zeppelin-2005

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland one shot #tom holland angst #tom holland fic #peter parker #peter parker one shot #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #spiderman #th #spiderman imagine #spiderman one shot #spiderman x reader #spiderman fic #imaginesmai #imaginemai

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meltwonu · 4 years ago

Text

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 | [CHAPTER 20] FINAL

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, sex toys, shibari, dom!seungcheol, dirty talk, overstimulation/forced orgasms, squirting, degradation, name calling, daddy!kink, gags! 😍💕 ✨HAPPY NEW YEAR!!✨ Here’s to more fun fics in 2021! I can’t believe this is our last chapter though omg 😭 It’s been suuuuch a journey and a privilege to write this little series out! I’ve honestly thought about a camgirl/boy series for like, over a year now, and I’m glad I finally did it! I completed one of my goals! 🥺💕 2020 was definitely a wild one, but I want to thank you all so fuckin’ much for supporting me and stickin’ it out with me all year! Here’s to more in the coming year!💕 Also I was proofreading this at the dining table last night thinking my roommate wouldn’t come out of their room but they did(while I was making dinner and my hands were dirty so I couldnt close my laptop ☠️) and they walked past my laptop and now I’m convinced they saw my fucking smut fic right in the open so yes my little mini-break next week is MUCH needed cause I am ✨embarrassed✨ 🤣 I’ll still do my inbox roundup tomorrow and probably answer a bunch of small thirst posts ‘n stuff throughout the week but there won’t be any drabbles! For now, enjoy chapter 20 🥺, have a safe weekend, and remember that I love you~ ❤️🍒💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 COMPLETE

Seungcheol wakes up much earlier than you do the next morning; pressing a kiss to your forehead as you groan and snuggle deeper into your pillow.

“Baby, I need to go run some errands for a little bit, okay? Just keep sleeping, you don’t need to get up yet. But, I made breakfast and put it in the microwave for you when you decide to get up later.”

His voice is muffled and you can barely understand what he’s saying but you nod; a soft sigh on your lips when you drift back into dreamland. He takes his time getting ready, checking his phone notifications as he gets dressed and places a note on the nightstand knowing that you didn’t catch a single word he said.

‘Hey, did you get everything I asked for?’

Jimin🧍🏻: of course, who do you think I am? Jeongguk?

Jimin🧍🏻: and btw, i’m just giving you a crash course okay? We don’t really have a ton of time

Jimin🧍🏻: did you watch those tutorial videos I sent you?

‘Yeah, I did some practice on my breaks, but I guess you can tell me if I’m doing anything wrong.’

Jimin🧍🏻: okee, i’ll be waiting. Don’t get here too late!

‘I’ll be otw soon. Thanks again, Jimin.’

“Ow--damn, okay, you don’t need to tug on it so much!”

“Sorry, I’ll be careful! And why are we practicing on you anyway?! Couldn’t you just have shown me pictures or something?”

“How else will you learn if not on an actual body? It doesn’t work the same way, Seungcheol.” Jimin pauses, checking himself in the mirror. “Also, keep in mind she does have boobs so just… go slow, okay? It’s not gonna sit like this on her.”

Seungcheol blushes a crimson red; biting the inside of his cheek at how amateur he was at this.

“Okay…”

Seungcheol is gone for a lot longer than you anticipate and although he replies quickly to your texts, you can’t help but be curious about where he’d gone and what he was doing.

Especially knowing that the two of you had to film tonight and knowing that everything was up to Seungcheol.

A shiver rolls down your body at the thought and you quickly try to shake off the nerves that seem to slowly invade your body when your mind starts to wander.

“It’ll be fine, I’m sure…”

“I’m home!”

“Where have you--oh, that’s… a b-big box? Um, should I be concerned...”

Seungcheol grins, shrugging as he sets it onto the kitchen counter. “Just some supplies for tonight. I had to go pick them up from a friend but I had to make sure everything was right.” He notices the way you can’t seem to take your eyes off of the box; eyes twinkling when he makes his way towards you.

He tilts your head up to meet his in a searing kiss, lips easing into a smile when you wrap your arms around his neck and melt under his touch. You moan against his lips just before he pulls away; staring dreamily at him while his hands start to roam over your clothed body.

“We have a long night ahead of us, sweetheart. Let’s pamper you a little before then, hmm?”

j__min: ??? where’s the loverboy

j__min has donated $200

angelhan has donated $75

therealchan99 has donated $50

xcaliburDK has donated $75

xcaliburDK: is that the sybian? Haven’t seen that in a looong while

You bite your lip and nod, somewhat shy as you sit alone in front of the camera. “Seungcheol’s still… setting up but he told me to start! I’m a little nervous, to be honest…” Your eyes flit to Seungcheol who rummages through the box in the kitchen and from the angle you’re sat in, you can’t see a single thing he takes out.

Earlier, he’d cooked you your favorite meal and even took the time to give you a full body massage before the two of you cuddled on the sofa and watched a movie. To you, it seemed a little too suspiciously tame and you only found yourself more nervous when he made you drink two glasses of water and ever so quietly announced it was time to start getting ready for the camshow.

“He’s being so suspicious! He was even gone for a few hours earlier today…” You mumble; brows furrowed at the camera before checking the comments.

It still amazed you every time with how much money you and Seungcheol made from the camshows and videos and it made you feel even better knowing that everyone loved the chemistry the two of you had together. There were a lot of video requests and ideas mixed in with the comments at any given time and you were definitely ready to pitch some to Seungcheol now that you’d rebranded your channel to be a couple’s channel instead.

“Almost done, sweetheart!”

gc__koo: he told me to watch cuz he was being suspicious with me too

gc__koo has donated $50

alphagyu97: what is he even plotting

alphagyu97: i am excited to see the sybian again tho ngl

artist8hao: pretty baby gonna squirt for us again?

universe_WZ: hell fuckin yea let us see how fuckin wrecked you get on that machine

You feel your pussy clench around emptiness at their comments; already feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter with the anticipation.

Movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention and Seungcheol walks towards the bed with a wide smile and the same box in hand. “Ready?” You can only nod back slowly, watching as he dumps the contents of the box right next to your body.

gc__koo: oy

chwenon: oh shit

sleepy_wonu: oh baby, you’re in for it now

sleepy_wonu has donated $100

Your entire body fills with warmth as you look over the various objects; unsure of where to really look first. “I, um--”

A stack of red ropes sits next to a small bullet vibrator that sits next to a ball gag that sits next to a pair of EMT shears and your eyes immediately flit up to Seungcheol who only smirks back at your shocked expression. “I had some other toys I wanted to use but I figured I should go easy on you, y’know? Since you showed me some mercy last night.”

Nodding, you reach out towards the ropes, touching them shyly. “Why red?”

“Thought they’d be on theme for you, babygirl.”

Seungcheol takes his time; remembering Jimin’s words when he tugs the ropes around your wrists.

“Colour, babygirl?”

“G-green… daddy…”

He nods, sitting up on his knees behind you as you sit on the sybian and face the camera. You bite your lip, somewhat embarrassed that you were already soaking the toy underneath you as Seungcheol worked to bind your arms behind you.

“D--daddy, where did you l-learn this?” You whisper, somewhat curious if this had anything to do with why he was gone for so long earlier in the day.

“Mm, daddy’s friend Jimin was kind enough to help me get the tools and teach me a few tricks to make sure I kept my babygirl safe. Wasn’t that kind of him?” You nod gently, gulping when you shift atop the machine slightly in hopes of relieving some of the growing sexual tension in your body. “Why don’t you thank him properly, sweetheart?”

Your hazy eyes make eye contact with the camera, head tilted slightly. “T-thank you, J-Jimin… for--for helping daddy…”

j__min: omg a shoutout ive made it

kitty_junjun: we never thought we’d see the day

tangerine_kwan: and here we all thought you were gonna be the bad guy huh

hoshi_tiger_xx: like when u only see previews of the book online but the rest of it is different ykwim

Seungcheol makes sure your arms are bound snug enough but not too tight; leaning away slightly to admire his rope work. “Feeling okay so far, babygirl?”

Nodding, you whine back slightly. “Y-yes, daddy… But… my--my pussy wants s-something…” He laughs in return, readjusting so that he’s sitting on your side this time to give himself easier access to start the rest of the bindings.

“Is that so? You’re gonna have to be a little more patient this time ‘cause daddy’s not done yet.” He starts working on the rest of the harness; going slow and checking in with you often to make sure none of the ropes were digging into your skin or making you uncomfortable. “You’ll have to forgive me a little though, I’m admittedly a ‘lil inexperienced so our pretty babygirl is only going to be tied up in this pretty harness for tonight.”

gentleman_josh95: the fact u even took the time to learn just for her

gentleman_josh95 has donated $100

artist8hao: seriously, the dedication

kitty_junjun: we stan a man who knows safety and etiquette

Comments of reassurance and donations flood in at Seungcheol’s small apology and although the two of you are in your own world; you can tell from just the amount of pings coming from your laptop that they all seemed to be encouraging him.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as Seungcheol continues to move around you on the bed to finish the harness and a smile graces his lips when he starts to secure the last knots in the back. He can’t help but mentally pat himself on the back at how neatly he’d done it for his first time.

“There. All done, baby.”

Your eyes flit to the laptop’s screen to see yourself; cheeks hot when you see how fucked out you already look and he hadn’t even touched you properly or turned on the machine.

The star harness Seungcheol had tied looks pretty with red ropes and you can’t hide your smile at how good it looks on you too either. “Ah, daddy made it really p-pretty… Thank you.”

This time, Seungcheol nods, letting you admire yourself as he silently reaches for the small remote for the sybian, switching it on.

Your entire body lurches forward as soon as the vibrations attack your clit and you immediately find yourself moaning and grinding down onto the machine as he gives you some relief.

“You’re welcome, babygirl. Now let’s really have some fun, huh?”

You need to cum.

Badly.

“Awww, is my pretty baby drooling? Does it feel that good on your sensitive ‘lil clit?” He teases, smoothing down your hair as you cry around the ball gag in your mouth; drool seeping out from the side of your lips when he raises the vibrations a setting higher.

You don’t know how many times he’d played with the settings and edged you by now, but all you do know is that the urge to cum only grows stronger as you grind against the machine, soaking it with your wetness as you chase the pleasure building up in your body again.

Surely cumming was okay, right? He never said you couldn’t.

You whimper around the ball gag, eyes fluttering shut when the tension in your body snaps in the blink of an eye and your thighs clamp down onto the sides of the machine. Throwing your head back, you moan against the gag and ride out your high as Seungcheol watches you from the side.

“Mm, bet that felt good, huh? But I know you want something in that greedy ‘lil cunt of yours, don’t you? You want daddy’s cock slamming into your tight ‘lil hole ‘til it’s full of my cum, right, sweetheart?” He licks his lips, turning off the sybian as you slump forward.

universe_WZ: shit shes so sensitive

chwenon: especially with her arms bound like that i bet she’s on cloud nine rn

gentleman_josh95: her cute lil head is probably all fuzzy already from all the sensations

therealchan99 has donated $100

gc__koo has donated $75

j__min has donated $150

All you can do is whimper and nod; teary eyes blinking back at Seungcheol as he smirks and leans in towards you.

“Mmm, you’ll get what you want eventually. But for now, you’re gonna cum again.”

He turns the sybian back on, licking his lips when he sees your body tensing again. It was always easier to get you to cum a second time and his point is proven when you mewl around the ball gag a few minutes later; chest heaving in stuttered breaths as you try to shy away from the toy still vibrating against your overly sensitive clit when you’re quickly thrown into another orgasm.

“You always cum for daddy so easily, don’t you, babygirl?”

Your head feels fuzzy after already cumming twice in such a short span of time but you nod, head lolling to the side as Seungcheol finally turns the sybian off for good.

Seungcheol gives you a second to catch your breath before he’s scooting in and fiddling with the clasps at the back of your head to take the ball gag off.

A thread of saliva connects your lips to the gag and you whimper at how good it feels to be able to actually speak again. “D-daddy…” Drool drips from your mouth as your lead lolls forward and Seungcheol is quick to bring a hand up to keep your head up as he looks into your lust filled eyes.

“Colour, sweetheart?”

“Still g-green…” He nods back, checking to make sure none of the ropes had shifted. “Would you like some water before we continue, baby?”

“Yes, daddy…”

He fetches you a glass of water, tilting it against your lips as you down the entire glass and you find yourself a little surprised at how needed it was. “Thank you, d-daddy…”

“You’re welcome, babygirl. Ready to keep going?”

You nod, a little bit more energized. “I hope everyone, mmh, l-likes the show so f-far~” Your teary vision prevents you from reading the comments and before you can even make an effort to, Seungcheol is already helping you off of the machine and helping you sit on the bed across from him.

alphagyu97: ugh she looks so fucking good in that harness

angelhan: right? That shade of red looks so good against her skin too

angelhan: so fuckin pretty

tangerine_kwan: pics for the private room later? Plz i beg

Seungcheol takes this time to take off his boxer briefs, cock curving up against his abdomen when he’s fully naked across from you. He wraps a hand around his cock, moaning and spreading the precum down his shaft as you watch. “D’you want this, baby?”

Your lips fall open in a silent moan as you watch Seungcheol jerk himself off and you can’t help but squirm. “Y-yes…”

“Tell me exactly what you want then. Let them hear what a filthy little slut you are for me.” You can’t help but feel miserably empty watching him and despite having already cum twice, you want his cock fucking you open and making you cum again.

“I--I--”

“Yes, babygirl?”

“I, ngh, I want d-daddy’s cock… Please? Ah, I--I wanna feel you fucking my--my pussy into the, mmh, s-shape of your c-cock… And I w-want you to c-cum inside my--my slutty little h-hole…”

Seungcheol scoffs, hips shallowly thrusting up into his enclosed fist. “That’s right. You’re just my slutty ‘lil babygirl that lets me use all her tight holes how I please, right? You like it when I cum down your throat and in your pretty ‘lil ass. But we all know you like it best when I cum in your hot ‘lil cunt. Makes you feel all warm and full, doesn’t it? You like it when my cum is dripping out of your spent cunt and sliding down your shaky thighs.” This time you nod furiously as you whine back in response.

“P-please… Can’t wait any--anymore!”

This time, the impatience takes over as you slightly tug on the ropes; whining when they don’t give. “Daddy!”

And this time, he gives in quicker than he anticipates, growling as he reaches for the EMT shears to cut you from the harness. “Don’t let your arms down, no matter how much you want to. You’re going to strain your arms if you move too fast so let me handle it, okay, sweetheart?”

The sudden gentleness in his voice has a giddy warmth pouring over you as you nod and sit still while he cuts at various points of the harness to make the ropes fall loose around your arms and chest. You keep your arms in the same position like he requested and you soon feel his hands roaming your skin and massaging your arms to get the blood flowing again.

“You’re so good for me, baby.” He whispers against your hair, leaning down to kiss your shoulder before he slowly easing your arms down from being folded behind your back.

He continues to massage your arms for a few more minutes before it’s you that’s getting impatient. “Daddy… Can you fuck me now?” Whispering, you slightly turn your body to the side to meet his gentle stare.

Seungcheol laughs under his breath, nodding. “Lay on your back for me, legs spread.”

You follow his orders as you quickly scramble to get into position; legs spread wide for him to situate himself between.

“Mm, your pussy is still so fuckin’ wet. I wanna taste you on my tongue, baby.” Whines spill from your lips as you shake your head ‘no.’

“No! My p-pussy feels empty, I need y-your cock, daddy… ‘n I’m so wet, you can probably, ah, just s-slide your cock in…”

He wraps a hand around his cock just as you wrap your legs around his waist and he guides himself until the head of his cock is right at your entrance.

Neither of you say a word as he slowly starts to sink his cock in; guttural moans on his lips when he meets no resistance and bottoms out in a singular thrust. “Holy fuck, your cunt is so fuckin’ wet. Shit, and so t-tight!” You clench around him, already feeling good with his cock inside of you as you beg him to fuck you hard and fast.

“Ngh, p-please fuck me like--like I’m your, hah, c-cocksleeve… I want it f-fast, daddy!”

He grits his teeth at your words; drawing his hips back before snapping them into you just how you wanted. “Fast, hmm? All you think about in that pretty head of yours is my cock pounding you open, huh? Slamming into you so fuckin’ good, it makes your toes curl when you cum.”

Seungcheol starts a quick pace, already feeling the pleasure building up for himself when you’re reduced to garbled noises and broken cries of his name. The heels of your feet dig into the small of his back as you try to press him in closer and he’s quick to reach for the small bullet vibrator left on the bed next to your body.

“Your body is so fuckin’ sensitive, I can already feel how tight you’re getting around me. So fuckin’ greedy to cum too. Already came twice and you still want more. You’re not satisfied until your whole body is shaking underneath me, huh, sweetheart?” He turns the small toy on, pressing it to your clit as you yelp and let out choked sobs.

“Ah, ngh, d-daddy, my--my clit’s t-too sen--sensitive! I--I can’t--!” Squirming, you feel the pressure building up obscenely quick; bottom lip quivering when he takes one of your free hands and makes you hold the toy to your swollen clit.

“Just a little more, sweetheart. Don’t you wanna cum?”

He angles his thrusts to graze against your g-spot and loud cries of his name leave your lips in a hurried, jumbled mess when he only doubles his pace.

The sound of donations and comments pour in like water and get lost within the ringing in your ears; unable to even warn Seungcheol that you’re about to cum when you feel your entire body starting to lock up underneath him.

Your lips part in a silent scream and your back bows off of the bed, thighs shaking uncontrollably as you cum for the third time. Seungcheol growls, fucking you through it as you squirt all over his lower half. He finds it harder and harder to thrust into you as you cum, but he feels himself quickly following suit with your warm walls fluttering around his cock.

“Fuck, baby, that’s right. Squirt for me, get me fuckin’ soaked while you cum.” He uses a free hand to make sure you keep the toy pressed to your clit, growling when he starts to unload his cum inside of you. “Mmh, gonna fill your cunt up with what you want, baby.”

A shaky moan leaves your lips as you feel him throbbing inside your pussy; walls clamped down onto him in a vice grip as you ride out the remnants of your orgasm.

“Ah, d-daddy’s cumming suh--so much inside of my p-pussy…”

Whining, you feel Seungcheol’s grip on your hand give way as he rides out his pleasure and you take the opportunity to turn off the small bullet vibrator while he doesn’t notice.

You watch his face contort in pleasure, hips still shallowly thrusting into you as his entire body shivers above you.

“D-daddy’s so h-handsome...” You mumble, cheeks hot when he cracks a smile through the pleasure wracking his body and chuckles under his breath.

“Thank you, babygirl.”

After you end the show, Seungcheol makes sure to cuddle with you on the bed for a little while longer.

“One more glass of water, baby.” You whine in response, pouting up at him before he gets up from the soaked sheets.

“But I already had a glass! If you have a piss kink just say so, ‘Cheol!”

He lets out a boisterous laugh at your comment, trudging back to the bed from the kitchen with another glass of water for you. “You need to be hydrated, sweetheart. You came three times and we played a little more rough today. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“Fine, but you didn’t deny my comment.” You snarkily reply, taking the glass from him as you down the water.

“Don’t make me have to punish you again! I’ll have you know I still need to get you all washed up and change the bed--”

A faint pinging has the two of you turning to the laptop; still on your camming homepage from where you’d checked the revenues from tonight’s show.

A small [1] sits above your inbox and Seungcheol is quick to turn to you with an eyebrow raised. “I thought you turned off the messaging system on your profile?”

You tilt your head in confusion, handing him the emptied glass. “I did. The only messages I should get are from, like, the actual system admins or other creator accounts which, I haven’t received any ‘til... now, I guess?”

Seungcheol sets the glass down onto the nightstand before he takes a seat next to you, dragging the laptop closer as you go to check the notification.

“’Love&Letter Films’? Aren’t they one of the biggest adult film companies?” Mumbling, you click on the message, giving yourself and Seungcheol a second to process the message that stares back at you; a shocked smile on your lips.

‘Hello!

I hope this message finds Cherry and Seungcheol well.

We, at ‘Love&Letter Films’, have really enjoyed the shows and videos from your channel throughout the years and we really have enjoyed watching the growth of your channel and the addition of Seungcheol to it. The dynamics between the two of you are rare in this industry and we’ve yet to see anyone like the two of you in this market.

The shows from the last two nights have proven that the two of you have the right kind of chemistry to film together for bigger productions and we would love to hire you for a few film productions we have planned in the upcoming weeks as a feeler. Of course, all expenses paid by us if you would kindly take our offer.

We love the various scenes and roles that the two of you take on with ease and we would love to help propel your careers forward, should you pursue a career in the adult entertainment industry.

Please don’t hesitate to contact me as I’ve listed my contact information below. I’m excited to hear from the two of you and hope to work with you in the future on many projects.

Respectfully,

Kwon Soonyoung, L&L FILMS CEO’

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