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goldengalore · 1 year

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Neglected

A househusband!Harry fic.

Summary: Harry has been feeling neglected and unappreciated by Y/N, and she doesn’t realize it.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: angst, smut (sub!harry, soft dom!reader)

A/N: I woke up at 4am one morning with the urge to write this. Also listened to Tolerate It by Taylor Swift for more inspo!

***

In all the years that Harry has been married to Y/N, he has never felt neglected by her. Sure, there have been instances where her schedule became too hectic for them to spend much time together, but even then, her love and appreciation for him could be felt through her actions.

Lately though, that hasn’t been the case.

Work has been stressing her out, he can discern that much. And while she has never been one to let work stress affect her personal relationships, this past week has brought out a different side to her. A side that makes him feel small and invisible.

When she comes home, it’s like she wants nothing to do with him. She heads straight upstairs, telling him she’ll be down for dinner later. During dinner, she’ll ask their daughter, Savannah, about her day but won’t ask him. After dinner, she’ll go back upstairs without acknowledging whether the food was good or not, even when he cooks her favourite dishes. He’ll wash up in the kitchen and go up to their bedroom to find her already asleep on her side of the bed—or pretending to be asleep, it seems at times. If he tries to cuddle up to her, she’ll shrug him off and shift further towards the edge of the bed with her back to him.

He’s beginning to wonder if he unwittingly did something to upset her. Or maybe it’s all in his head. Maybe he should just suck it up. Surely, this won’t last forever and she’ll be back to her normal self soon enough…

It’s Friday now. He hopes that with the weekend on the horizon, Y/N will be in a much better mood when she gets home.

“Hi, lovie,” he greets her when she walks in through the door. “How was your day?”

She releases a heavy sigh as she slips off her heels. “Shitty, but at least it’s over, right?”

“Sorry to hear that.” He attempts to give her a hug, but it doesn’t last longer than a second before she pulls away with a tight smile.

She heads to the kitchen, dropping her bag and keys by the stairs along the way. He follows her like a lost puppy. Grabbing herself a glass of water, she collapses onto one of the dining chairs and chugs it down.

At least she didn’t go straight upstairs today, he thinks to himself, grasping for a silver lining.

She rolls her neck from side to side and rubs the back of her shoulder, wincing a bit. Harry moves to stand behind her. Shifting her hair over to one side, he starts massaging her neck and shoulders. He holds his breath, expecting her to brush him off, but instead, she reclines in her seat while he carefully presses his thumbs into the nape of her neck.

“Work has been such a pain lately,” she admits.

“I know. Could tell you’ve been stressed out.”

“It’s this new boss. She’s impossible to work with. She puts unreasonable deadlines on everything, expecting us to finish these huge, complicated tasks within days. Then, when people like me try to speak up about it, she’ll publicly shame us in front of the whole office and pile on even more work so that— Ow! Okay, H, you’re pressing too hard.” She reaches behind her to push his hands away.

“Oops. Sorry, love.” Fuck. She was finally opening up to him about why she’s been acting so cold, finally giving him more than just one-word responses or vague explanations, and he ruined it.

“It’s fine. I’m going to go take a shower.” She stands up.

“Wait,” he says, grabbing her hand.

She turns to him with a look of mild annoyance.

“Um, wh—why don’t I run you a hot bath?”

“Sure. Not too hot though, okay? I’d like to not burn my skin off.”

He chuckles at the comment, pretending that it didn’t sting a little. “Yeah, of course.”

He runs the bath and checks the temperature of the water multiple times while Y/N undresses in their bedroom. He’s about to check for a fourth time when she enters the bathroom in her white robe, which she hangs up on the wall hook. She settles into the tub and closes her eyes. Meanwhile, Harry watches from the doorway, wishing he could get in there with her and be close to her.

“Do you want me to stay?” he offers tentatively. “We can talk more about the stuff you’ve been dealing with at work.”

“Ugh, no, I don’t even want to think about work.”

“Oh. Well, we can chat about something else to get your mind off—”

“I’m not really in the mood to talk.” She opens her eyes briefly to look at him. “I’ll be down for dinner later, okay?”

Translation: Don’t bother me until dinner.

With a hollowness in his chest, he shuts the bathroom door and returns downstairs to the kitchen.

***

“Daaaaad?” Savannah calls to her father from the dining table, where she has decided to do her homework tonight.

“Yeeeees?”

“Can you help me with my homework?”

“Be right there.” He turns down the heat on the stove before walking over to his daughter, leaning over her to take a look at what she’s working on. Math. His worst enemy.

“I don’t understand this question,” she says, pointing to a lengthy word problem on the page with several multiple choice options.

He reads and rereads it a few times before attempting to solve it in his head. It seems easy enough… Until he realizes that the answer he came up with isn’t even one of the options. He asks Savannah how her teacher taught her to approach questions like this, and her explanation only confuses him even more. Math was tough when he was in school, but the way they teach it nowadays boggles his mind.

“I’ll go see if your mum can help.”

He heads upstairs to check if Y/N is done with her bath and finds her sitting at the foot of their bed in her robe, brushing her hair. The sun is setting outside. Its warm, amber glow spills through the curtains and falls across one side of Y/N’s face, casting a shadow on the other. She looks ethereal in this light, like a goddess, and he feels unworthy of her presence.

“Babe? Savannah needs help with her maths homework,” he tells her.

“Can’t you handle it?”

“I mean, I’m trying, but we both know how useless I am at maths,” he answers with a smirk, but she doesn’t even crack a smile.

“Harry, it’s grade school math, not rocket science.”

His face drops. “Well, yeah, but I— Never mind. I’ll figure it out.” He turns to leave but pauses in the doorway, turning back around to face her. “Y/N, are you… Are you upset with me? Have I done something wrong?”

He instantly regrets asking. Y/N closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“No, H, I just need some time alone,” she states slowly. “Like, is that too much to ask? I can’t even have a second alone without you getting clingy and thinking I’m mad at you? It’s exhausting.”

His heart cracks for what feels like the millionth time that night. Clingy. His wife thinks he’s clingy. It’s not the first time he has been called that word. But it is the first time he has been called that word by her. And God, does it hurt like a dagger slicing through his chest.

“Sorry,” he mumbles before leaving.

He tries his best to help Savannah with the question, ultimately resorting to Google where he finds the solution posted on some forum a few years ago.

“Daddy, are you okay?” asks Savannah once her homework has been sorted.

He raises a brow at the odd, adult-like concern in his daughter’s voice. “Yes. Why?”

“You look sad.”

He forces a smile. “I’m not sad. There’s nothing wrong with being sad, of course. But I’m fine.”

She squints her big eyes at him suspiciously, drawing a genuine laugh out of him.

Kissing the top of her head, he says, “I’m going to finish making dinner, but let me know if you need anything else.”

“Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

That little token of appreciation means so much to him, he gives her another kiss on the head.

“You’re very welcome.”

***

Harry feels numb at dinner. His appetite is nonexistent. The food that he himself cooked with love and care tastes bland and flavourless to him. He has long zoned out on the conversation between Y/N and Savannah, which is completely unlike him, as someone who prides himself on being a good listener.

“H, you okay? You’ve barely touched your food,” comments Y/N. It shocks him that she even noticed.

“Daddy’s sad,” Savannah blurts out.

Y/N frowns, studying him from across the table. “Sad about what?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” He stares down at his plate and changes the subject. “Does anyone else feel like the pasta sauce is missing something? I followed the recipe to a tee and still messed it up somehow.” He shakes his head, frustrated with his inability to get anything right today.

“No, it’s perfect,” says Y/N. “As always.”

She’s praising him. So why does he feel like crying?

“Where are you going?” she asks as he pushes his chair back and rises to his feet.

“I have a headache. Going to lie down for a bit. Just leave the dishes in the sink. I’ll take care of it later.” He places his unfinished plate on the kitchen counter and leaves.

Tears are flooding his eyes before he has even reached the top of the stairs. By the time he gets to the bedroom, they’re spilling onto his cheeks. He doesn’t bother wiping them away. Instead, he just climbs under the covers on his side of the bed and lets his pillow soak them up.

It’s hard to tell how much time has passed before he hears Savannah’s voice down the hall, telling her mother goodnight, and then moments later, the light creak of the bedroom door opening, followed by Y/N’s footsteps approaching the bed. The mattress dips behind him.

“H?” she says softly.

“Hmm?”

“You still awake?”

He clears his throat and tries to keep a steady voice as he replies, “Yeah. You need anything?”

“No, just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. Just a headache.”

“Do you need anything from me? Painkillers? A cup of tea?”

How about kisses? Or cuddles? Or any kind of attention that doesn’t involve you glaring at me like I’m a waste of space? he answers in his head, but out loud he says, “I’m fine. Thank you, love.”

“You know, you keep saying you’re fine and I don’t know if I believe you.”

He doesn’t respond.

She places a hand on his arm over the covers. “Look at me.”

“I’m fine, Y/N,” he emphasizes stubbornly.

“Can you please look at me?”

He sighs. A part of him is tempted to snap at her and tell her to leave him alone, to hurt her the way she hurt him, but he doesn’t have it in him to do that. In fact, the last thing he wants right now is to be left alone. What he really wants is to be held by her, to be told that he is loved and appreciated and wanted.

When she gently tugs on his arm to make him turn around, he doesn’t resist. Her eyes scan his face, taking in the tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

“Oh, honey.” She brings a hand to his cheek. He’s been so deprived of her touch that he leans into it immediately. “Did I do this?” she asks with guilt-ridden eyes which suggest she already knows the answer to that.

“I feel like I can’t do anything right by you lately,” he says. “I just want to spend some time with you when you get home, but you never talk to me and you shoo me away any time I try to come near you. I don’t know what I did, but lately, I feel more like an annoying pest that you have to tolerate than your husband. And maybe that makes me clingy or whatever—”

“That does not make you clingy,” she interjects, shaking her head adamantly. “I’m sorry I called you that, and I’m sorry I made you feel this way. I’ve just been under so much pressure at work. That’s no excuse for how I’ve been treating you, but I need you to know that it has nothing to do with you, okay? You haven’t done a single thing wrong.”

He sniffles. “Really?”

“Yes, baby. The only reason I’ve been pushing you away is because I come home with all this pent-up frustration and I don’t want to take it out on you by accident… But it looks like I’ve been doing that anyway.” She wipes a tear from the corner of his eye and kisses him tenderly. “I’m sorry, honey.”

She gets under the covers with him and guides his head to her chest, tangling her fingers into his hair. He nuzzles his face close to her breasts. She apologizes again and reassures him that he’s the best husband she could have ever asked for, that she still looks forward to coming home to him at the end of each day, that she loves him more than words can ever explain.

Her delicate touches mixed with her comforting voice telling him everything he needed to hear soothes his aching heart. They cuddle in silence for a while, their legs intertwined with each other. Y/N shifts around a bit while keeping him close to her. When her thigh brushes up against his crotch, she freezes.

“Are you hard right now?”

“Fuck, um… yeah?” he mumbles into her chest nervously, his face growing hot.

She giggles. “Well, let’s take care of it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“No, you deserve it.”

She sits up on the bed beside him, while he lays on his back, gazing up at her, melting when she gives him a warm smile. Her hand disappears under the covers, making its slow descent into the waistband of his shorts. He gasps when she gropes him through his briefs.

“I don’t think I’ll last very long,” he admits.

“That’s okay. Been a while since we’ve done this, huh?”

He nods, gulping as her fingers trace his bulge. Although he sometimes touches himself when he’s home alone during the day or in the shower, it’s never the same as when she does it. The orgasms lack the intensity he craves.

“My poor baby,” she coos, using her other hand to scratch the top of his head. “I haven’t been taking proper care of you. We’re going to fix that this weekend.”

She suddenly removes her hand from his shorts and takes off her shirt, revealing her braless torso. The sight of her gorgeous, round breasts makes his mouth water before she even invites him to suck on them. Moving his head into her lap, he wraps his lips around one nipple and swirls his tongue around the taut flesh.

Her hand ventures back into his shorts, this time slipping into his underwear. Instead of wrapping her whole hand around him, she uses only two fingers and her thumb, running them along his length in slow, gentle strokes that make his body shudder with pleasure.

“I’m so lucky to have you, you know that? Nothing you do for me goes unnoticed, I promise you,” she says.

The reassurance brings tears to his eyes again but happy ones this time. She wraps the rest of her hand around his cock, picking up the pace and pressure of her strokes. He thrusts his hips into her hand desperately as his orgasm builds. She tells him he can come whenever he’s ready, but he tries to delay it for as long as possible until he can’t any longer. Then he lets himself go, his moans and grunts muffled by her breast.

“There you go. Good boy.” She coaxes the last few drops of come out of him.

He rests his head in her lap afterwards, dazed and breathless, hoping that she’ll let him lay there a little while longer. Luckily, that’s exactly what she does, only moving to rest her back against the headboard to make herself comfortable while keeping his head in her lap, her fingers in his hair. He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

***

Thank you for reading! For more househusband!Harry and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

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toruro · 1 year

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love you twice — j. wonwoo — part three

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

description: in which your extremely hot and sexy one night stand turns out to be your son’s teacher. naturally, chaos ensues, but you might just find love as your life continues to take an unexpected turn.

warnings/tags: sexual content (18+), oral (f receiving), phone sex, mentions of past toxic relationships, thigh riding, wall sex, use of pet names (mostly angel and good girl)

w/c: 8.3k

a/n: so sorry this took a while to get out! i’ve had lots of work and just finished up traveling soooo writing this got pushed back but! that gave me time to brainstorm since i honestly never expected this story to be more than two parts LOL! but i appreciate all the love and support <3 all your comments and messages have made me so happy, and i hope you like this!

“Hey Kei-Kei!” you call out, walking out to the playground to watch your son play with his friends. It’s Friday, and of course that means fun day. You sit down at a bench crossing your arms over your chest as Kei makes his way from the slide to run up to you.

“Hey Mommy, I can play today, right?” he asks with a hopeful smile. You reach down to ruffle his hair a little, nodding.

“Yeah of course. I’ll wait here, so come to me if you need anything, okay?”

“Mhm,” he agrees, before running back to play with his friends. You smile contently, leaning back into the bench when you see a familiar figure approach from the corner of your vision.

“Hey,” Wonwoo greets cooly, sitting down next to you. It’s been a week since your fourth date, and you haven’t seen him since. Your fingers are aching to reach over and hold his hand, yet you hold your touch, glancing at Kei.

“Hi, how was your day?” you ask casually, turning to him to see him better.

“It’s great. Fridays are always great, aren’t they?”

“I guess you’re right about that. I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t happy that it was Friday,” you murmur to yourself thoughtfully before turning your attention back to Wonwoo. He’s about to respond, but then you both hear a familiar voice calling for you.

“Hey Mommy,” Kei greets, running up to you from the side without noticing Wonwoo sitting next to you. “‘m getting tired now,” he says admittedly, and you pay on your lap to invite him.

“Is that so…” you murmur, “You gonna say ‘hi’ to Mr. Jeon?” You raise your brow and crook your head toward the man next to you, Kei turning slowly to realize who it is.

“Hi Mr. Jeon!” he exclaims happily, jumping onto your lap and waving brightly at his teacher. “What’cha doing here? Aren’t you on your weekend? My mom hates being at her work when she’s started her weekend, she always complains when her boss calls her on the evenings on Fridays.” Your cheeks burn as Wonwoo laughs, and you turn away.

“Is that so?” Wonwoo asks, looking up at you with a teasing glance. “Well, I can’t say I call this work, Kei. I enjoy talking to your m—“ he pauses to glance at you. There’s something thick in the air, as if there’s a line he doesn’t know if he should cross. “—I enjoy this,” he chooses to say.

Kei, in his young innocence, doesn’t pick up on Wonwoo’s hesitance. “Hmm, okay,” he says, placing a finger on his chin as if he’s thinking.

You look down at him, placing a hand on his head. “Do you want to go home now?” you ask him, eyes flickering at Wonwoo and sending a sympathetic gaze his way—you aren’t fond of cutting your time with him so early.

“Aren’t you talking to Mr. Jeon?” Kei asks, and your heart nearly melts at his consideration.

“Yeah, but if you want to go home we will,” you reassure. Kei frowns, and Wonwoo chimes in.

“If you’re tired you should go with your mom, Kei. Playing is nice, but you should always listen to your body,” Wonwoo explains, standing up.

Kei’s frown deepens, and you furrow your brows, peering down at him. It’s not often that Kei is pouty like this, so you aren’t sure what’s going on. He’s motioning his hand for you to come close, and you figure he wants to tell you a secret. Leaning in, Kei brings his face up to your ear.

“I wanna talk to Mr. Jeon,” he whispers, and you have to bite down on your lip to hold back your grin as you pull back, giving him a small nod.

“Why don’t we talk together Wonwoo?” you suggest to the man standing next to you, and you can tell his eyes light up at the idea as he sits down.

“Yeah of course. What do you wanna talk about, Kei?” he asks, leaning an elbow on his knees to lean forward in interest.

“Okay so in class today you were talking about pie but I was wondering why you…” Kei continues to talk on his own tangent as you find yourself being into your own thoughts. Your heart swells at the sight, and it’s a wonderful reminder of just why Wonwoo is a teacher and why he has such a good reputation.

After a few minutes of Kei going back and forth with Wonwoo with his curious questions, you take note of the chilling air around you, and so does Wonwoo. “Anyways Kei, it was so nice talking to you but it’s getting a bit cold. You shouldn’t be out here for too long,” he says, standing up.

Kei pouts once more, and while you did cave once, you aren’t keen on doing it again. “He’s right Kei-Kei, I don’t want you to get sick…” you murmur, voice trailing off as you watch the look of defeat on your son’s face. A thought crosses your mind as you catch the look on Wonwoo’s face.

“Hey Kei, we can go to that restaurant tonight,” you tell him, enjoying the way his face lights up. “And…” you mumble, looking up at Wonwoo who stands above you, “maybe Mr. Jeon would like to tag along?”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen, and for a moment you’re scared that you’ve crossed the invisible line—it’s not as if you've made anything official, or talking about bringing things up with Kei, so this is all unknown territory. It’s silent, and you’re about to turn away and retract your idea before Wonwoo speaks.

“I’d like that,” he says, and you can tell he’s trying to hide your excitement. Your body courses with relief, and you look down at Kei for the final confirmation. As expected, there’s a grin adorning his face and you break out a smile of your own.

“Yay!” he squeals, hopping off from his seat on your lap. You purse your lips as you stand up and turn to Wonwoo slightly worriedly.

“Is this okay?” you ask quietly, as Kei runs across the playground to grab his backpack.

Wonwoo gives you a stern look, and you feel like you might go cozy from how intense his gaze is. “Are you okay with this?” he shoots back. “You’re his mom. Don’t do this if you don’t want,” he tells you more softly this time. “Don’t rush for me. I can wait. I will.” Your stomach tumbles at the words and implications—that Wonwoo is here, that he will be here, that he will be patient.

You let the words sink into your mind for a moment. You like Wonwoo—like really like him—and you want to tread carefully. You don’t want to make a stupid mistake by rushing into things, ruining the one good thing that’s come to you after Kei. Yet again, your gut feeling is nearly always right, and right now your gut is telling you that nothing but good can come out of this dinner between the three of you.

So that’s pretty much how you end up at your and Kei’s favorite diner, you and your son sitting side by side at the booth while Wonwoo sits across, his hands neatly folded as Kei continues to talk to him. You aren’t sure what’s possessed him—it’s really cute, honestly—but he’s never this talkative and you wonder just what it is about Wonwoo that has Kei so comfortably chatty.

“What do you like to get from here Kei?” Wonwoo asks, leaning forward in your son’s direction. Kei bounces up in his seat, pointing down at the menu, you and the man in front of you sharing a fond look before turning back to him.

“I like the chicken sandwich and the macaroni and the vanilla cake is so yummy even my mommy likes it and she doesn’t like vanilla and then I also like the chicken nuggets and—” You place a hand on his shoulder, and Kei stops to look up at you.

“Slow down, Kei-Kei,” you tell him. “One at a time, okay?”

“Okay Mommy,” Kei replies absentmindedly before turning back to Wonwoo to continue, “so then there’s chicken nuggets and I also like the milkshake and my mommy’s favorite is the fries but I don’t like them that much and I also like…”

Kei’s voice trails off in your head, your mind being pulled into some other world as the scene in front of you sinks in. You feel warm, you feel comfortable, you feel happy.

You’re floating in an off land world, and suddenly all of your worries have disappeared. All you see is bright white and three shadows. It’s a silent promise to yourself, you realize, and as you focus back on the banter between your son and your boyfriend, you become even more determined to follow through with it.

The evening ends with Kei not once halting his immersive conversation with Wonwoo, and if anything, you’re surprised that the latter still has it in him to listen so carefully and attentively. As he walks you two to your car, you’re hit with the slight disappointment that you can’t quite give him the goodbye kiss you would want to, but you both settle on sharing a long and intense few seconds of eye contact that sends you the message you both need to hear.

Arriving home, you wash yourself and Kei up, and after tucking him into bed you’re met with a text from your one and only.

i had fun

You grin.

i did too

It’s the next week, and you are once again in a rush before another date with Wonwoo. This time at least, you prepared your outfit ahead of time, but you spent maybe a little too long trying to find where you kept your favorite set of earrings which set you back about twenty minutes.

“Ugh, I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to make you guys some food,” you grumble to Jun once you have everything in your home in place, looking at your cousin exhausted.

He chuckles, “It’s alright, don’t worry, I’ll get us takeout or something.”

“I’ll make it up by making your favorite next time,” you promise, leaning against the counter. You spent the last few moments rushing around the house trying to find Kei’s stuffed animal that he insisted on having with him every night, eventually finding it stuck behind the fridge (how it ended up there, you still don’t know).

“I like the sound of that. You got a date tonight?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“So,” Jun says with an eyebrow raised. His voice is unusually teasing, and you give him a wary look as you take a sip of water. “Wonwoo, huh?”

You choke on the water, coughing and sputtering liquid everywhere over your counter as you turn to look at Jun with wide eyes. “How the fuck do you—“ you gasp out, before wheezing once more.

“He’s friends with Minghao you know,” Jun explains with a smirk as he leans back onto the fridge. “Me and him have met up a few times for dinner with friends and Kei was just telling me how you had dinner with Kei and his teacher…and so I asked for his teacher’s name and when he did it rang a bell and well…I put two and two together.”

You hardly blink as Jun finishes up his tangent, the words processing in half speed. Jun chuckles at your state, patting your shoulder lightly. “Wonwoo’s a great guy. It’s kind of funny though. How you’re like dating Kei’s teacher.”

“Shut up!” you shriek, punching his shoulder. “Don’t bring that part up, it’s embarrassing.”

“Hey, you kind of brought this upon yourself. Definitely unexpected, but I guess it’s a funny story.”

“It’s not funny,” you murmur solemnly, burying your face in your hands. “It’s so stressful Jun.”

The humorous look on your cousin’s face is now replaced with one of concern as your voice lowers. “Okay, I’m sorry for making fun of you. I’m happy you’ve found someone you like, and that he’s like, actually someone decent,” he adds, alluding to your previous past failed relationships.

Rolling your eyes, you huff, “Wonwoo is great…it’s just complicated. For Kei, you know? How am I supposed to bring things up with him, if things do end up going further.”

Jun looks up thoughtfully before responding. “I think…you should listen to your instincts. You haven’t really dated since Seojun—hey, don’t give me that look—“

“Do you have to bring him up,” you groan, throwing your head back. Jun shoots you an apologetic look but doesn’t relent.

“Look, I’m just saying that the fact that you’re even with Wonwoo right now is a good sign that you’re ready. You’ve never done anything without putting Kei first, and I know that you’re thinking about him every step of the way, so trust yourself. And Wonwoo is great—dude he’s literally a first grade teacher.”

“Yeah, I know, but he’s Kei’s teacher,” you emphasize. “Like imagine how confusing that is for him.”

“I guess, but like if you’re confident about your relationship or whatever with Wonwoo then I think you should trust that.”

“I dunno,” you sigh, walking out of the kitchen.

Jun follows behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder so you can look at him properly. “Trust me, and trust yourself. It’ll be fine.”

Fuck, you think to yourself, because you sure hope so. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you find Kei in his room, giving him a quick hug and bidding him goodbye with a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you in a few hours, okay Kei-Kei?”

Focused on his own little drawing, he waves back with a small smile before turning his attention back to his drawing, saying something along the lines of, “Bye-bye Mommy!” Retreating back to the doorway where Jun stands, you check your phone for the time before picking up your purse and heading toward the door.

“Have fun with Wonwoo. I’ll be sure to ask him how it goes,” Jun says with a smirk as you turn the knob, glaring at your cousin.

“Do it and I’ll tell Minghao how you used his toothbrush on your last trip because you forgot your own,” you threaten.

Jun laughs as you walk out into the apartment hallway before worriedly calling out, “Hey you wouldn’t actually do that. Right? Right? RIGHT?!”

Wonwoo’s car is parked out in front of your building, his windows down so he can watch you walking out. When you recognize him and his car, you smile brightly and Wonwoo thinks his heart damn nearly pops out of his chest as you bound toward him.

“About time,” he greets with a smile, unlocking the doors as you approach the passenger seat. You roll your eyes at him as you open the door and slip in. Instead of responding, you choose to lean over the midrest and press a firm kiss onto Wonwoo’s lips, pulling back just as quickly as you dove in.

“Is someone complaining?” you retort, reaching back to put on your seatbelt, grinning at the way the tips of his ears turn pink and he turns back to look at the road.

“Not at all,” he replies quickly, and you’re surprised that he doesn’t sound as flustered as he looks, making it a personal goal to embarrass him just a little more the next time you have the chance.

The rest of the car ride is quiet, save for the radio playing in the background and small conversations about the view as he drives you to the spot he took you on your first date. Pulling up into the field, you grin at the familiar scene. The evening air is warm but the breeze is cool and refreshing on your skin, oranges and pinks painting the sky as you help Wonwoo take out the picnic blanket from the trunk and lay it out on a flat patch of grass.

“So,” you begin, sitting down across from him on the blanket as he pulls out some packed food. Handing you a plate, you grin, watching him settle down himself. “Jun?” you ask curiously, wondering the extent of his friendship with your cousin.

Wonwoo looks up at you with an odd look, one eyebrow raised. “Jun? What about him? You know him?” he asks all at once, causing you to giggle.

“You know him?” you counter, and he scoffs.

“Of course I know him. Him and his best friend are basically joined at the hip—he never shuts up about Jun,” Wonwoo groans as he stands up to walk back to the car to grab something.

“Minghao?” you call out, eyes trailing his figure.

“Who else, babe, who else?” Wonwoo mutters sarcastically, bringing out a bottle of champagne, much to your delight. You chuckle at his response, leaning back on your hands. “So, how do you know Jun?” he asks, sitting back down cross-legged in front of you.

“He’s my cousin,” you say casually, holding up one glass he’s brought down so he can pour you some. Wonwoo seems to falter in shock for a moment, eyes flickering at yours to confirm that you aren’t joking before pouring out the bubbling drink.

“Really? I didn’t expect that.”

“Are you surprised?”

“Hmm, I don’t know if that’s the right way to put it,” Wonwoo replies with a shrug, pouring his own glass and holding it up to yours so you can clink them together with a small ‘cheers.’ “I’m not that close with Jun. I guess you can say it’s a pleasant surprise, you know? We’re connected.” Your heart flutters at the words, scooting yourself closer to him. “How’d you know I know Jun?”

“Well,” you trail off, grabbing your fork and popping one of the fritters Wonwoo brought into your mouth, “Jun actually figured it out first. Apparently one day when he was babysitting Kei, Kei let it slip that we had dinner together and Jun asked for your name and…well he isn’t stupid so he got it.”

“Kei told him?” Wonwoo asks, and you can hear the twinge of worry in his voice. Reaching out a hand, you give him a comforting look.

“Yeah, I told him not to tell other kids at his school but obviously that doesn’t include Jun so he just mentioned it,” you explain.

“Oh thank god,” Wonwoo mutters. “Imagine the earful I’d get from the principal if word got around the parents that I was taking my student and his mother out for dinner.”

“I can imagine the earful you’d get from other moms to have their own dinners with you,” you murmur, huffing at the thought. Wonwoo gives you a funny look. “Okay don’t give me that look, you know they think you’re hot.”

“But I am hot,” Wonwoo replies smugly, and you glare at him as you pull your hand away from his to cross them over your chest.

“Whatever,” you grumble, turning your head away. Catching onto your sulky mood, Wonwoo reaches out on his own to grab your forearm to tug you towards him. You stumble over your knees a little, but within seconds his arms are steadying around your waist and pulling you next to him so you can rest your body against him.

“Okay sorry,” he tells you sincerely, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I can’t control how they think, but I can control how I think, and I think that you’re the hottest person alive.”

Your cheeks burn, and you squeeze your eyes shut in his hold. “Shut up, don’t be corny.” Wonwoo laughs, holding up a sandwich to the front of your lips, encouraging you to open up. As you heed his silent requests, Wonwoo responds.

“You know you love it.”

Mouth full, you grumble something about telling him to shut up again, which has Wonwoo laughing more.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks after some time spent finishing your food and bickering, and you can tell from the way his voice is an octave deeper that this conversation is taking a different turn.

“Yeah, of course,” you say as you shift your head to a more comfortable position on his shoulder.

“And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he adds and you furrow your eyebrows, looking up at him. His expression is unreadable, but you have an idea of where this is going.

Thinking for a moment, you reply, “It’s about Kei’s father, isn’t it?”

Wonwoo frowns. “Am I that readable?” You smirk slightly at the way his cheeks tint pink, continuing, “Like I said, you don’t have to answer. I’m just curious.”

“No it’s okay, you deserve to know,” you quickly tell him, shyly adding the last part before turning back to look at the meadows in front of you. “Since you’re like, actually my boyfriend now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Wonwoo,” you breath out with a chuckle.

“Okay, okay, sorry just tell me.”

“Kei’s father and I dated in high school and college, but it was mostly on and off. It was weird. He was kind of weird.”

“Weird?” Wonwoo asks, raising a brow.

“We just didn’t match. Would get into arguments and break up over stupid shit and get back together for god-knows-why,” you explain, reaching for one of Wonwoo’s hands to play with as you recount the story. He lets his hand relax as you run the pads of your fingers over his palm, tracing them over the lines absentmindedly as you recount.

It’s a story that you haven’t often had to tell—you haven’t had anyone to tell—and the words feel odd on your tongue. The story of you and Seojun—no, actually, it’s the story of you and Kei—is one that you’ve mauled over in your mind for the past five years, spending endless tears to the point where even if you wanted to cry right now, you wouldn’t be able to.

“What’s this guy’s name by the way?” Wonwoo asks, interrupting your thoughts.

“Why do you wanna know?” you ask teasingly. “Gonna kick his ass or something?”

“I might,” he responds playfully, suddenly holding your hand that’s playing with his, bringing it close to the warmth of his body.

“Seojun. I think me getting pregnant was his kind of reality check that he wasn’t meant to be, as ironic as that sounds. Probably realized that fatherhood wasn’t for him, and so I wasn’t either,” you chuckle to yourself, and for the first time in a while, you laughing at yourself isn’t bitter, it’s light-hearted.

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo tells you sincerely, and you can tell when you look up at him that his eyes are searching for the right words to say. “That must have been hard—to go through that alone.”

“I managed. I had Jun helping me anyways.” There’s a silence, and you feel there’s more Wonwoo wants to ask, yet he’s holding his tongue. You realize now that this might be an awkward topic for him to ask about, and you squeeze his hand tightly in reassurance. “Is there anything else you want to know? I told you, I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

Wonwoo sighs, looking down at you with an expression that is more solemn than anything. “I don’t want to probe.”

“You’re not. I’d want to know too,” you clarify. “I’m not upset about this or anything. I got over it a long, long time ago, so this isn’t really like an uncomfortable topic for me. Honestly, I was never even upset about Seojun in the first place, I was just upset that Kei wouldn’t have a dad.”

“What does Kei know, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Nothing really. I guess he’s kind of aware that most people have two parents,” you murmur. “He doesn’t ask any questions though, I’m not sure why.”

“Kei’s smart,” Wonwoo tells you, letting go of your hand to run it through your hair soothingly. “Both academically and emotionally. Maybe he just knows when and where he should ask certain questions.”

“He’ll have to know sooner or later. I’m guessing later it is,” you say, rubbing your eyes a little from having them open for too long. “I guess this just makes my job easier. I have more time to think about it.” A thought crosses your mind, and you look up at Wonwoo with wide eyes. “Why do you want to know all this? I don’t mind, I’m just curious.”

Wonwoo chews on his lip, and you take a mental image (fuck, he looks hot, but now isn’t the time for that), before he responds, “Well you know I’m serious about you,” he begins to explain, and right off the bat do you feel something bubble up in your stomach—butterflies. “I just wanted to know the situation with Kei, so I have an idea of where that places me, you know?” You can tell he’s trying to be casual about it but the slight waver in his voice gives away his anxiousness.

“Mhm,” you agree. “It’s confusing, for me too. I think we should just go with the flow. If you really want to know more though,” you say, tossing him a playful glance, “Seojun isn’t going to come back any time soon. Or ever, for that matter, so you don’t have much to worry about.”

“Not much…so there’s still stuff to worry about?” Wonwoo chuckles nervously.

“Well you still gotta get through Kei—he’s the toughest judge, you know?”

“Is that so?” Wonwoo murmurs. “I guess I’ll have to start picking favorites in class now.”

“What a biased teacher!” you gasp dramatically, pulling back from his hold to turn and face him. “I’ll have to report you to the principal!” You crawl into the spot in front of him and place your hands on his chest, pushing him lighty.

Wonwoo grins, circling his hands around your wrists in front of him before replying, “Can you seriously blame me? I’m pretty sure every teacher would have favorites if their students had moms as hot as you.”

Your face burns and you drop your head to his shoulder so Wonwoo can wrap his arms around your torso and pull you onto his lap. “Ugh, you got me there,” you murmur, pulling back and placing your hands on his shoulders before swooping down for a kiss.

It hardly takes more than ten seconds before his tongue is sliding into your mouth, your hips pushing down to meet Wonwoo’s pelvis in an erratic mess. He’s pulling back just as quickly as he dove in, and the feeling of his lips leaving yours makes your head go dizzy.

“While I do love this, I don’t like the idea of doing anything in the car again,” he says casually, putting some space between you two. You frown, but nod along.

“So…” your voice trails off and you’re giving him that look and Wonwoo thinks he might just go insane.

He sighs, pursing his lips into a smile. “So…I guess this just means I’ll have to take you to my place. Again,” he adds, referencing the first night you two spent together after the club. You grin at his words, scrambling off of him and quickly trying to grab the picnic blanket to put back into his car.

“What a shame,” you reply sarcastically as Wonwoo hops up too, the tent in his boxers being ever so prominent. You force yourself to tear away your lustful gaze on the sight and turn back to the car.

Wonwoo gives you a warning look. “You don’t want to?”

“N-no! I never said that,” you mumble, shoving the blanket into the back seat before slipping into the passenger seat. Wonwoo trails slowly behind you, getting into the spot next to you as he starts the engine.

He scoffs, backing into the road. “That’s what I thought.”

As soon as the door shuts behind you when you enter his apartment, Wonwoo is trapping your frame between him and the wall. Your back being pressed up against the wood has the air of your lungs forced out of you and into his mouth as he leans down for a fervent kiss. Whining, you wind your arms around his neck, pressing his lips even harder into yours.

Your tongues meet in a sloppy mess but somehow your uncoordinated movements mesh perfectly in a hot mix of saliva and desperation. This is what you’ve been waiting for, you think.

It’s hard not being able to touch him, kiss him, hold him whenever you want. It’s hard not being able to mark him as yours whenever you please. You know Wonwoo is yours, yes, but it’s hard to hold yourself back when you see him from the corner of your vision when you pick Kei up from school.

Desperate nights in the middle of the week where you stand in the shower, hot water running down your even hotter body, and shove a hand between your thighs as you try to mimic how Wonwoo’s fingers curl into you in all the right ways.

It never feels the same, never, but the mental image of Wonwoo when you’re between his legs, cock stuffed in your mouth, is enough to bring you to the edge. Only barely, of course, and the aftermath of your orgasm always has you leaning against the cool tile in shame and desire.

You couldn’t control yourself one night, calling Wonwoo up at the dangerously horny hour of 11 p.m., not really expecting him to pick up. When he did, you nearly jumped in ecstasy before the breath caught in your throat when he asked if everything’s okay in that sweet tone of his and—fuck—you’re really fucking desperate.

When you bashfully admitted that you were needy, that you were ‘thinkin’ ‘bout him,’ Wonwoo had asked you, ‘thinkin’ about what baby?’ to which you meekly confessed that you were in dire need to feel him, feel the stretch, feel his cock.

He chuckled, and that was your plunge into reality—realization that you fucking called Wonwoo when you were supposed to be asleep, nearly begging him to get you off some way, some how, confessing to him that he’s the only way you can have an orgasm that’s actually worthwhile. Realizing how insane you might have sounded, you almost hung up, but then there was Wonwoo talking and his voice was an octave lower and there were sparks flying through your body.

Wonwoo, all low and hoarse, was murmuring filthy words through the phone, demanded that you stick your pretty fingers in, and rub your clit like the good girl you are until his voice alone was throwing you off the edge. You spasmed around your fingers while Wonwoo worked you through on the other end, whispering praise and sweet nothings until epiphany hit and you started apologizing profusely to him for being needy.

That night, Wonwoo assured you that it was okay. That it was okay you were so needy you needed to beg him for his help to make you cum. That it was okay you couldn’t be patient for him like a good girl. Tonight, you aren’t sure how much of honesty was laced in those words, at least, not with the words he’s spilling into your ear now.

Pinning your hands above your head in a tight hold, Wonwoo mutters, “You’ve been wanting this, huh?”

“W-Wonwoo, fuck,” you gasp when he latches his mouth to your neck, sucking and biting until there are are deep red and purple marks that are bruising your skin. Swiping his tongue over the tinted skin, you feel every part of your body throbbing, aching under his touch.

“Thinkin’ about me in the night,” he continues, letting go of your hands so you can let them fall to his head, gripping tightly onto his hair. Wonwoo brings his own arms to your waist, hiking them up your shirt and looping them through your belt loops to yank down your shorts. You shuffle your feet out of the loose clothing, managing nothing more than a moan when he wedges a thigh between your legs.

The hard muscle flexes through the denim of his jeans, Wonwoo’s hands on your waist helping you grind your throbbing core down on him. “Wonwoo,” you choke out, grabbing aimlessly at his shirt, tugging, pulling—anything to get it out of the way. It’s the first time you two have done anything since your first date, and it’s been even longer since you’ve seen him shirtless, thinking back to your first fateful night together. You briefly ponder on how things have changed in only a matter of a few months since then, and the rush of it all has you feeling dizzy and your knees growing weak as you lazily rock your hips against Wonwoo’s thigh, watching him peel his shirt off.

You suck in a break when you catch sight of the valleys and mountains of his chest—the curves that hug him so well and the abs that trail below, causing your eyes to be directed at the filthy v-line which disappears under the waistband of his jeans. “Like what you see?” Wonwoo grins, grabbing your chin and pushing you into a kiss as he slips one hand under your shirt. You choose to help him out when you pull away, quickly pulling the shirt over your head, letting it fall to the ground.

“Of course I like what I see,” you say without a hint of shame, your words coming out in pants as you feel a low pleasure grow as Wonwoo starts to bounce his thigh slightly. You whine when he lets his thigh fall, feet hitting the ground as you swivel your body in hopes to chase the feeling, causing him to chuckle at you.

“Patience angel, you’ll get what you want soon enough,” he eases, pulling away from your body slightly.

You pout. “And how do you know what I want?” you retort, immediately regretting your bratty choice of words as Wonwoo narrows his eyes at you. He doesn’t say anything as he sinks to his knees in front of you, watching you give him a confused look.

Tapping on one of your thighs, you lift it slightly only for Wonwoo to grab it and throw it over his shoulder, the realization that his face is dangerously close to your cunt finally sinking in. “Huh…” he breaths out, bringing his lips close to your soiled panties. “You don’t want this then?” he murmurs, not breaking eye contact with you throughout.

“N-n-no, I do,” you say hurriedly, shifting your position slightly so that you can balance yourself better against the wall. Your other leg has its heel pressed into Wonwoo’s back, and if it’s hurting him, he doesn’t say a thing. All either of you can really focus on right now is the smell of your arousal intoxicating Wonwoo’s system, and the intense gaze of his eyes on yours.

“Good girl,” he mumbles, and you press your eyes tight because you feel you might cum at the sight alone.

“Wonwoo, fuck—ple—”

Wonwoo shuts you up real tight when he licks a hot stripe over your panties, and you cry out his name from the unexpected pleasure. Fingers flying down, you grip on his hair tight, causing him to groan into your clothed cunt.

“Easy, angel,” he warns, but you can tell he doesn’t really care. Not when he only rewards your behavior by sliding the soaked fabric aside, revealing your slick folds to the cool air around you. “Holy shit, you’re dripping,” Wonwoo mutters, and your ears burn at the comment.

“D-don’t stare,” you mutter out, breaking your eyes away from Wonwoo under you, the scene causing your entire body to heat up.

“Can’t help it. So pretty,” he tells you, bringing one hand up to rub against the folds. “Can’t believe this is all it takes to make you a mess…” “Wonwoo—”

He continues, “Just lettin’ you fuck yourself on my thigh for a minute and you’re already so ready for me…”

“Shit—”

Wonwoo looks up at you with dreamy eyes. “You deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

“God yes.”

Wonwoo smothers himself in your folds as soon as the words of confirmation leave your lips, and the rush is so strong you’re in awe at how you don’t fall. Tangling your fingers in his hair once more, you let yourself grind down onto his face as his tongue digs through your wetness, tasting—exploring.

He goes back and forth, taking a few moments to let his tongue run through your folds before moving his mouth up and wrapping his lips around your clit. He throws out some flicks of his tongue and then sucks hard, causing you to slam your hand over your mouth to prevent any one of his neighbors from hearing such ungodly sounds.

“Don’t do that,” Wonwoo growls, halting his work on you to glare up at you.

“Sorry,” you squeak out, letting your hand fall to your side as you chew on your lip at the sight of his lips and chin all glossy and wet from your wetness.“Angel,” he mumbles before diving back and bringing his own hand up to rub against your hole. He teases for a few moments before catching the way your voice wavers when you beg for more, deciding to plunge in two fingers at once. He’s knuckles deep from the get-go, giving you hardly a moment to adjust to the overwhelming amount of pleasure before he’s easing them in and out of your tight cunt.

Between the thrusts of his hand, he’s curling his fingers against your walls just as he did a few weeks ago in his car—it's been so long since then that if you weren’t so dizzy from pleasure, you’d be amazed at how he still remembers just what gets you to your orgasm embarrassingly fast.

“Wonwoo—fuck,” you moan when he sucks against your clit while finger fucking you mercilessly. “K-keep doing that—’m gonna cum—fuck, gonna cum!” you cry out in shock as you feel your belly tighten up when he’s hitting that one spot inside of you that has your knees buckling.

Wonwoo only hums against your clit but that’s enough—with the vibrations and his warm tongue and his fat fingers, you’re writhing against the wall as he rides you through the orgasm that you’ve been aching for for weeks.

Coming down from your much awaited high, Wonwoo slowly slips out his fingers out of you, and you finally notice the way your arousal not only coats his hand, but drips down into a filthing fucking mess all over his forearms. Slightly appalled with how dirty this all is, you lift your hands from his hair as he starts to stand up, bringing them to cover your face.

“What the fuck,” you murmur with a hoarse voice, only releasing your own cheeks when Wonwoo forcefully grabs your wrists and yanks them down.

“Stop,” he instructs, before cupping your cheeks himself and kissing you deeply so you can taste your wetness on his tongue. “That was hot,” he says casually as your eyes rake over his body, finally landing on the bulge that pressed against your stomach.

“Felt so good…” you praise, hands ghosting over the imprint of his cock over his jeans, drinking in the sight of his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. “Can I repay the favor?” Wonwoo watches you intently for a few moments and then shakes his head, causing a frown to make its way onto your face.

“Wanna fuck you,” he clarifies, and the crude choice of words has your cunt clenching and gushing once more. “So where do you want it…” Wonwoo asks before listing his offers, “bed, couch, counter…?”

Your vision trails over his apartment that you haven't ever really had the chance to look at properly at his place. You aren't really keen on doing any inspecting now though, especially now that an interesting thought comes to mind. “Can we…can we do it here?”

Wonwoo looks at you like he just fell in love at this moment, and in his head, he thinks he might have just done exactly that. “You're insane,” he grunts, unbuckling his belt and shoving his boxers and jeans down in one go. His cock springs free, and you can’t control the way you instantly grab out for him, fingers scooping out the leaked precum as it swipes over the tip. He curses lowly under his breath, grabbing one of your legs to hook it around his toned torso.

Wrapping your hands around his neck, you pull him down for a sweet kiss as he slides his fat cock through your folds as a way to lube himself up in your slick. “You’re insane,” you finally shoot back, lifting yourself on your tippy toes so it’s easier for Wonwoo to line himself up with your entrance.

He’s pausing with his tip barley inside you, reading your face. “You ready?” When you nod up at him with thick lashes, you certainly aren’t expecting him to pull you down onto him, and you’re even further shocked out how he pushes up into you simultaneously, his cock filling you up balls deep in one go.

“Wonwoo!” you cry out, head thrown back as it hits the wall. The pain on the crown of your head is dull, but the stretch you feel from your cunt overtakes anything else you might be able to feel in your body. Your thighs tremble as Wonwoo stills, his rough fingers rubbing gentle circles onto your waist and ass as peers down at you, allowing your pussy to relax around him.

He’s big. He’s big and his cock is fat and the tip is already kissing your cervix yet the pain is addicting and you want—you need more. “Wonwoo,” you repeat, looking up at him with big doe eyes that have his insides churning in fondness. “More…can you give me more…please?”

Wonwoo grips your waist tightly, and you can tell he’s holding back. “Angel—”

“You said you wanted to fuck me, Wonwoo, right?” you plead needily, weakly moving your hips towards his to chase the feeling on your own. He stops you, gripping your hips so tight there’ll probably be bruises the next morning.

“So needy,” he grunts, and you think he might just get irritated with you but then he’s pulling his hips back and before you know it, his cock is ramming back into you. Back arching off the wall, your jaw goes slack and you can’t even find the voice to say a thing.

Each time Wonwoo slams back into you after a painfully slow drag of his cock, he punctuates the slap of skin against skin with a deep, guttural groan and low mutters of your name and angel, whispering broken sentences about how good you feel and how you’re squeezin’ him so good.

Your body throttles against the wall with each snap of his hips, and if you were in your right mind, you honestly would have complained about the faint pain. The thing is though, that you aren’t in you’re right mind.

You aren’t thinking clearly, and it’s because Wonwoo has successfully fucked you dumb. So dumb you can’t think, can’t speak, can’t complain, can’t think anything but Wonwoo Wonwoo Wonwoo.

“God, making a mess on my dick, huh angel?” Wonwoo coos as his thrusts become more sporadic. You’re clenching him so incredibly thigh, warm and gummy walls hugging him so incredibly tight that he thinks it’s a miracle he hasn’t cum yet.

The only noise echoing through his apartment is the squelching of juices that mixes where his cock meets your cunt, skin slapping against skin, and soft pants for hair, until finally you’re tightening your hold around him, moaning, “Wonwoo fuck—I can’t—fuck—feels too good.”

“God, fuck, I can tell, you’re so fucking tight—squeezing me like a vise,” Wonwoo moans into your ear. “Finest fucking pussy, I swear,” and the words are so filthy yet so sweet that it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, nails digging into his back.

“Wonwoo,” you intend to cry out, but the syllables fall just short of a whisper when he pulls you down and rams his cock up into you so hard it’s punching the air out of your lungs. Bringing his hand down, Wonwoo roughly rubs at your clit as he stills himself inside of you while rocking yourself against him, twitching at all the stimulation that’s being thrown your way.

You cum, and you just know that this has been the best orgasm of your life. Pleasure hits you like a truck and you’re left almost crying, your entire body shaking against Wonwoo’s who bites down on his bottom lip so hard it nearly draws blood.

Feeling you cum around him, your wetness coating his thighs and pelvis, as you whine out his name in your moment of heightened pleasure, intimacy, vulnerability has Wonwoo’s vision going foggy and heart growing in his chest. The second he senses your orgasm has finally withered away, he’s pulling out and fervently jerking himself off as you stand limply, the only thing holding you up being the force of Wonwoo’s body pinning you to the wall.

But now, you’re both exhausted and your leg around him loosens so you fall to your knees. Your face landing right in front of his pretty tip, and you focus your hazy vision on the full length of his cock. With your position from before, you couldn’t really look at it without craning your neck at an unnatural angel but now…

Now you can see his dick up close and in all its glory while simultaneously watching Wonwoo fall apart in front of you. Bringing up a hand to help him out, you wrap it around the base of his cock and massage his balls with the other hand as you lift yourself on your knees and open your mouth wide, not once breaking eye contact.

“You’re so beautiful,” Wonwoo grunts one last time with a few sloppy flicks of his wrist and then his eyes are shut tight, eyebrows pinched together as hot white ropes paint your face. Some lands on your tongue, some on your cheek, some on your chin, and you lap up what you can as you watch Wonwoo ride out his own orgasm with a few last pumps of his cock.

When he finally opens his eyes, he’s met with the sight of you running your tongue over your lower lip to scoop up his cum, and he feels he might get hard just again by watching you. Taking a deep breath, he steps back, holding out an arm for you. Reaching up, you’re taken aback by how frail you feel when he pulls you up and you stumble into his arms, an ache beginning to take its spot in your lower body.

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo finally speaks when he hears you let out a small gasp of pain. He’s walking slowly, leading you in his arms to a room which you now recall as his bedroom. Wonwoo pushes you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed and you fall back, the tall man flopping on top of you.

“Mhm,” you finally respond, letting him roll over or lay beside you. “A little bit sore,” you add, and you hit his bicep when you hear him trying to muffle a laugh. “Is my pain funny to you,” you grumble.

Wonwoo shakes his head, turning to face you. “Of course not,” he tells you, but the smug smile on his face doesn’t match with his words. You narrow your eyes, and he continues, “Okay. Maybe it makes me a little happy.”

“My pain makes you happy?!”

“It just means my dick game is great!” You huff, turning away, and Wonwoo laughs, spooning you from behind before saying, “Okay I’m joking. Are you in a lot of pain?” He presses kisses into your shoulder, light and feathery as he awaits your response,

“Not a lot…” you murmur, scooting your body closer to his. “Feels kinda good…” you admit, and you damn near feel him smile into your skin at that comment.

“You sure? Anything you want me to do?” Wonwoo asks sincerely. Turning over to face him you purse your lips.

“Buy me cake before dropping me off?” you suggest, before thoughtfully adding, “and extra cuddles?”

Wonwoo grins, kissing you sweetly. “Cake and cuddles it is.”

Which is how you end up getting dropped off at your house two hours later with cupcakes in your hands for Jun and Kai. Helping Kai sit down at the table to serve him the dessert, you catch Jun giving you a funny look.

“Why’re you walking like that?”

Your face burns and you avert your gaze quickly and then Jun is laughing, picking up his phone and texting someone. “Who are you texting?” you demand, walking up to him in an attempt to grab his phone. He pulls it away quickly, dangling it above your head.

“No one,” he says in a sing-song voice.

“Liar.”

“It’s just Hao.”

“What’re you telling him?!” you nearly shriek before lowering your voice, looking back at Kei who is still happily eating his cupcake.

“I’m just telling him Wonwoo’s date went well! He was curious.”

“How’d he know?!”

“I told him, of course,” Jun deadpans. You roll your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Well did I lie?”

You glare at Jun before biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. Because as much as you’d like to strangle Jun right now, he in fact, did not lie, and the way you giddily text Wonwoo, ‘i had fun,’ tonight when you go to bed is testament to that fact.

a/n: im sorry i had to rush the ending idk i am not super happy but .... :/ the next update might take just around the same amount of time because i have a lot going on right now, but i hope you all enjoyed what ive written so far :c please like and comment and reblog, they literally make me so happy! anyways, i hope you enjoyed and please have a nice day <3

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courtingchaos · 9 months

Text

A/N: This is a dumb little thing I wrote because I’m trying to claw my way back into writing. I’ve also been having a pretty rough go of it mentally and watching old Loony Toons is actually like, really fun. So just take this.

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

No warnings, it’s just fluff, however:

18+ No Minors

In the top corner of a paystub:

Edward E. Munson.

“Edward E. Munson.” You repeat it under your breath the way Mel Blanc would and it makes you giggle.

Edward E. Munson, genius.

The man in question appears and leans on your desk, the elevated portion keeping him above your head.

“What are you teeheeing about?”

“Nothing.” You look at him quickly and glance down the same, his brown eyes brimming with mirth. “Just…the cartoons.” You point over his shoulder and he turns, his locks spilling down to hang over your line of sticky notes on the desks ledge. He watches for a moment while the Road Runner gets through the mural and when Mr. Coyote slams face first into it, Eddie snorts and tilts his head back towards you.

“I wouldn’t let that bird go, either.” He says out of the corner of his mouth and you giggle again. That earns you a smile from him, one of his big ones, all teeth and dimples. “See, what I’d do is create a screw up that he’d run into and then have the real trap at the end of that.”

IQ 207, super genius.

“I’m sure you could catch the Road Runner Ed, no problem.” You give him your own small smile and look back down at the time cards for the shop. His government name peaks out at you from under the stack of paystubs you were filing and you have to suppress another giggle. It wasn’t that funny, but having seen him move around the shop like a cartoon on occasion gave it some precedence.

“Oh yeah I’d catch him.” He leans back on the ledge, propped on one elbow to keep watching the episode. “Make a Sunday dinner out of him too.”

“Hey Eddie?”

“Hey whattie?” He answers from under the car he’s working on, peering up through the engine block to see you leaning over it with a smile.

“I’m taking lunch orders.” You wiggle the pencil and notepad so he can see the list. “I’m going to the diner, what do you want?”

He grins, only the briefest of glances at the way your chest presses up against the body of the car, and keeps screwing the nuts back in place nonchalantly. “I don’t know, do the fries come with the shake?” He peers up through the frame to see you frown and start to unfold the paper menu before you pause.

“Eddie?”

“What?” He asks innocently. From under the bumper he can see your toe tapping and he reaches his boot over to wiggle it against your ankle.

“For you, it’s an up charge.”

“Oh just for me?”

“Yeah it says right here ‘in the instance that one Eddie E. Munson orders a shake with fries and is making an innuendo, it’s an up charge of three dollars’.” You ‘read’ out loud and run your finger along pretend words. He laughs again and misses your grin when you turn to leave, tripping on his outstretched leg and shouting at him to keep his limbs secured.

He doesn’t get to his food until almost closing but he finds his fries bagged up in the microwave, ‘Eddie E. Coyote’ written in your hand across the folded over top. When he opens the fridge he doesn’t expect to see the styrofoam cup with the crudely drawn outline of a curvy lady and a strawberry shake contained within. His fingers stain the white cup but he keeps looking down at your little drawing while he picks up his station and waits for Wayne to finish his paperwork.

It’s a Friday morning before anyone else should be in, sun barely over the horizon, your time to get paperwork finished that the techs have conveniently forgotten throughout the week. You’re still sleepy, a little unaware, so you don’t realize the coffee pot already has coffee in it until you pick it up intending on filling it with water. You stare out of the big window in the office that opens into the shop and finally notice one of the bays open. A quick look at the clock on the wall and a snap of your wrist to check your watch and they’re both right, 6:30 AM. The whir of a pneumatic drill pulls you out into the shop, coffee pot still in hand.

“Hello?” You know it’s gotta be one of the guys but you still freeze in place when you catch movement behind an open hood, right until Eddie’s head pops up.

“There you are!” He yells over the hiss of the air compressor. “I was wondering when you showed up.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Like an hour, had some stuff to catch up on.” He rounds the front of the car with one hand tucked behind his back and the other held out in front, a clutch of papers in his fist. “I figured I could not be a piece of shit for once.”

You can see the invoice numbers along the top of one paper and your gaze goes soft. “Oh Eddie, you’re not-“

“Don’t excuse me, I’m bad with homework. Lifelong issue.” He shakes his fist for you to take the stack and when you both head back into the office he takes the coffee pot from you to pour your cup you’d left out. He points at your desk chair and sets your mug down next to your purse. “Sit.”

“This is just a present because I thought you’d like it.” He rolls his wrist out from behind himself, a little cylinder of tissue paper that he hands you.

“You got me a present?” You feel silly even saying it because why would Eddie do that? You’re just the front desk girl Wayne took on when he couldn’t handle his own paperwork anymore. The errand runner, the paperwork finisher, the sometimes maid when no one else remembered how to use a trash can.

“Not just any present.” Eddie shakes a finger at you admonishingly before he folds his arms over his chest and leans on the doorframe. “I got Wayne to part with a cup. That’s like…worse than battlefield surgery.” He laughs and gives you one of those big smiles that makes you feel shy. “In fact, I think he would have rather had his arm sawed off in the mud.”

You tuck your face down so you can maybe hide your stupid little smile, especially when you peel the tissue paper away to reveal a short glass with a cartoon coyote on it.

“Oh my god, I used to have one of these when I was a kid!” Your shocked laughter rings in the empty office and Eddie doubles down on his smile.

“See? Knew you’d like it more than him.”

He watches you tuck it up under the ledge next to the typewriter and finally leaves you alone to do your work. When Wayne comes in at 8 Eddie watches him as he leans in and you hold up your cup, big smile plastered on your face. He can hear Wayne laying it on thick but when he finally comes out in the shop he waves Eddie off when all he gets is a big grin.

“Well Ed, told you she’d like it.”

A terrible afternoon through and through. Half the shop lost power and three Semi’s sit unfinished while a very angry manager finally stomps out of the front door.

“Prick.” Eddie curses behind you while you unclench. You handled him fine, but having a grown man yell down at you for 30 straight minutes left you feeling anxious. “You okay?” Eddie lays his hand on your shoulder, careful to wipe his fingers off on his shop rag before brushing them over your sweater.

“Oh I’m fine, I just hope he knows he can go fuck himself tonight.” You shuffle the guys folder around and shove some receipts in there while Eddie laughs. “Come in here and yell at me like I’m the fucking power company.” You huff and yank open a middle drawer on the tall filing cabinet next to you, tossing the folder into the back.

“You wanna go out for a smoke?” Eddie holds up his pack and jerks his head towards the back door. When you don’t immediately get up he wiggles his eyebrows at you and pulls on your sleeve. “C’mooonnn.” He whines and you relent, turning the sign over on the front door for the lunch hours.

Out back is a row of crates and a bench seat taken out of an old Ford and Eddie presents the cracked leather to you like a throne. “Madam.” He flourishes and after you drop down onto it he hands you a cigarette, lighter already lit when the filter hits your lips.

“That guy was an ass.”

“Yeah well he can take it up with the county.” You make a vague jerk off motion and lay your head back against the wall.

“I wish acme stuff was real.” Eddie says, kicking a stray bolt around between his feet. “Put dynamite in his glovebox so he opens it and gets that banana peel face after.”

“Well you’re a loony toon, I’m sure you can figure that out.”

“Still haven’t caught that Road Runner yet.” He looks up from under his fringe and you don’t catch him staring. “Probably should do that first before I move on to explosives.”

Eddie is ready to call it quits and walk out on this job. Wayne is still hashing it out with the Semi guy, something about how he doesn’t owe the shop for anything, and Eddie is hanging around just in case. This guy keeps pointing fingers closer and closer to Wayne’s face and half the shop is just watching and waiting while Wayne remains calm as ever. Eddie knows you’re watching from the front desk, saw you overfill your mug when you got too caught up staring at this guy going purple. He wants to laugh but he knows that wouldn’t end well so he hides his mouth behind his fist and waits for this to blow over.

The yelling has quieted down but the snide remarks remain and Eddie catches your eye, your eyebrows raised high in question. He’s about to come in and tell you but he thinks of something funnier and grabs an old invoice to scribble on the back of it. He holds it up out of sight of the shop, just below his shoulders and you squint and laugh in silence behind the glass.

‘How about ending this cartoon before I hit?’

He grins at you while you turn away and hold up a finger for him to wait. He’s glued to the way your lip tucks into your teeth when you concentrate, your own scribbling happening before you whip the sign up against the window, a dull thud that only he seems to hear.

‘Road runners can’t read.’

He feels a slight drop in his stomach when you shrug dramatically, your lips forming around what he knows is a quiet ‘meep meep’.

Normally Eddie is in the shop Monday through Friday but it’s Wednesday and you’ve seen neither hide nor hair. Everyone’s been busy and you haven’t felt like interrupting Wayne and his welding so you sit alone in the office during your lunch, cartoons playing softly in the background. The book you’ve been trying to slog through is making you sleepy but the bell ringing on the front door snaps your head up. You could have sworn you’d locked it like normal. “Hey, sorry we’ll be-“

Eddie dangles his store key from his middle finger and smiles at you. “Is Wayne in?” He sounds breathless, asks you that even though he’s already bounding into the shop and yelling for his Uncle. Funnily enough you couldn’t have answered him anyways, struck dumb by his new attire.

You’ve only ever seen him in his coveralls and his stained undershirts but the Eddie that just breezed past you is a new creature. Hair down and washed, fluffy waves bouncing behind him where you can see him jogging across the shop floor. His wallet chain clinks against tight light wash jeans that show off most of his thighs, dark ink showing through the white threads keeping the shredded pant legs together. You’re afraid if anyone looks at you they’ll know you’re staring dead at the slice of his midriff shown off under his cropped black tee, but you can’t peel your eyes away. He’s tanner than you expected and when he makes a big gesture over his head it pulls that shirt up and you make a small sound to yourself and the four walls. His shoulders roll under his laughter and you catch the glint of the overhead lights on his rings. He’s in a brand new costume and you’re feeling insane watching him through the thick glass like you were ogling a shark at the aquarium.

You stare until he starts to turn back towards the office, gaze snapping down the worlds most boring book. His boots fall heavy and that chain clinks into the metal door when he pushes it open with his hip. You expect him to dip right back out to the parking lot but his movement has come to halt beside you and you slide your eyes over to see the bottom half of him, hands on his hips like he’s waiting for you to look. You gather whatever will you have left and take a deep breath before putting on your brave face.

“Don’t you look nice.”

“Oh you think so?” He tilts his head and does a half turn so you get a good side view.

“Mhm.”

“I’ve got a show tonight.”

You forgot he was in a band and shake your head. “I forgot about that. Is it in Indy?”

He nods and his smile lights up the room when he talks about the stage they’ve got. It’s a real venue not just a bar and they’re openers for another local band but his drummer has been talking to other guys and he thinks they’ve sold at least 150 tickets and he’s just nervous now because they’ve never played for a crowd bigger than 50.

You’re listening but you’re also watching this chain dangle from his shirt more and more until a red pick falls out and hangs over the edge of your desk.

“Oh you guys are gonna do fine.” You reach over and pat his forearm, a gentle touch that you play again over in your mind when you notice how soft his skin is. “Seriously! I’m sad I’m missing it.” You pout a little to get your point across and Eddie’s face goes through a series of scrunches before he finally speaks.

“I didn’t even think about asking if you’d be into that.”

“That’s okay! Don’t feel like you have to invite me.” Your neck is hot from embarrassment and you hope he doesn’t think you’re trying to invite yourself along.

“No it’s not-“ He glances at the clock on the wall and sighs. “I’d lo-it’d be cool if you came, but I just need to remember to tell you when.” He says lamely. You watch him seem to struggle with leaving so you give him a break and make a shooing motion towards the door.

“Go catch that road runner, genius.”

For the next two weeks Eddie talks about this show. He tells everyone everything but you specifically some stories over and over. He talks about the actual real photographer that was there, and he talks about the venue and he talks about the girls.

“I’ve never seen so many women going crazy for a man from Indianapolis.” He shakes his head, a blank look on his face while you yet again stare holes through the papers in front of you. There’s no reason to be jealous you remind yourself, because there’s nothing there. Barely a friendship built off of shared chuckling at cartoons most days, but he brings up these bleached blondes and their corsets and you sigh at your small town outfits.

“I mean, it’s the attention really. That’s what’s exciting.” He says quietly over his sandwich, a sandwich that you made for him in a weaker early morning moment.

“You do have a pretty big personality.”

He winces a little and waves his food at you. “You remember how it was in high school. I didn’t get a lot of that attention.”

“I barely remember you, that’s when you got sick right? When we had that big earthquake.” You know it was his third time but then he’d been missing for almost two months and then suddenly was a graduate. He stills for a moment before he flashes you a smile.

“Yeah I forget about that sometimes.”

There’s quiet between you two while you mark in the ledger and Eddie seems to stare at the side of your head for too long. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” His half finished sandwich stays forgotten clasped between his hands. “Like, about those girls. At the concert.”

You don’t look at him when you frown deeply and shake your head at the work you’re so intent on. So concentrated on that you’ve forgotten how to add ten and two together while the jealousy slithers in. “I don’t think anything about it Ed.” The TV in the lobby shows you coyote hovering in the air and then plummeting off a cliff for miles and you can definitely relate to that right at this moment.

“No, I mean I don’t want you to think-“

“Eddie, it’s fine.” You do look up then, wide eyes imploring him to shut the fuck up. “One night stands aren’t gonna ruin my opinion of you, I promise.”

“Did you ask?” Wayne doesn’t even look up from his coffee when he senses Eddie in the doorway.

“No.” Eddie sighs and droops like a wilting lily against the door handle. “I got my foot caught in my mouth, as usual.”

“Mm.” Wayne takes an obnoxiously loud sip and Eddie narrows his eyes at him. “I suggest you fix that then, I can’t take much more of your cartoon jokes. It’s too cute.” He shakes his head like he’s actually disgusted but Eddie knows, Eddie’s heard it all since the concert. Had heard about you timidly asking about his band and then when Wayne mentioned the board games it’d turned into a three hour conversation that his Uncle had regaled him with.

“She’s probably feeling a little hurt, son. You’ve talked about the groupies a lot.”

“I know! I keep trying to not bring them up but they were everywhere.”

Wayne rolls his eyes. “Oh woe is you.” He lets Eddie rot around his bench until he actually needs to get some work done and he shoos Eddie off to his own project.

Most of the shop is empty by 7 but you can still see Wayne’s lights on at his workstation so you know Eddie is probably still floating around. You’d been kind of avoiding him since lunch, still not ready to talk about whatever it was he was trying to talk to you about. You’ve got everything filed and piled for the morning when you hear a soft tap on the window into the shop, Eddie’s forehead pressed to the glass.

“It’s unlocked.” You say loudly, gesturing at the door. He just shakes his head and holds up a piece of paper he’s written on in grease pen.

‘Magnus Stultus’ with an arrow drawn to point at himself. He watches your face scrunch in confusion and he turns the paper to scribble again quickly ‘Big Idiot’.

Edward E. Munson, certified genius.

You think about having this whole conversation in signs is a fun idea in theory, but you open the door slowly anyways and lean your head around to look at him. “Big idiot?”

“Yeah. Huge.” He rolls his forehead so he can see you clearly. “I was trying to ask you something earlier and I didn’t.”

You think about lunch and try to remember any questions asked of you and all you can see is the glaring green neon of your jealousy. “Yeah? What do you need?”

He breathes deeply against the glass and leaves a big patch of fog before finally lifting his head. “I was trying to say I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea about them because I wasn’t interested. I was trying to say I’d wished you’d have been able to be there.”

“Oh.” That definitely sounded better with the context and you’d love to go and see him play, if nothing else to see him in his crop top again.

He can tell you haven’t realized yet and he finally just comes out and says it. “I’d like to ask you if you’d like to go to the next show. With me…together.”

“Oh.” You smile behind the thumb nail you’re chewing on. Everything shifts again for you and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you.

“If you’re laughing at me, I understand, but could I at least walk away first if that’s the case.”

“I’m not laughing at you!” You finally walk over to him so you can lightly tap his shoulder with a mock punch. “I’d love to.”

“We’ve got another show next week but it’s on Friday.”

“Oh now that’s when I get a lot of work done so I’ll have to ask my boss first.”

From across the shop Wayne yells ‘yes!’ at you before you finish your sentence and Eddie looks like he’s turning into a strawberry.

“So do I also need to wear a crop top or is that just a you specific thing?” You try to be cute to break the tension and give Eddie a smirk but the exaggerated up and down he gives you makes you feel shy again.

“Did you like that outfit?” He gives you a little satisfied grin. You roll your eyes at him and nod slightly, another push at his shoulder when he clicks his tongue and gives you a terrible wink.

“I’ll see what I can dig out for you.”

“Oh you do that.”

#Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson x Fem Reader #My Work #My Fic

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takeomisbitch · 1 year

Note

Hi, hope your day has been going well. I was wondering if I can request a head cannon for Eren, Jean, Connie, and Armin and how they are when they are drunk.🫶🏽

A/N: My days been going well. Hope all of yall lovely people are doing ok🖤

What Eren | Jean | Connie | Armin are like drunk

Word count: 1469

Prompt 2

Warnings: Fluff and tiny bit of NSFW on Connie's part, mention of alcohol obviously, Connie trying to get in your pants, Armin being a lightweight, Connie is crossfaded, pet names (Babe, baby,(Eren) sweetheart, pretty, sexy, (Jean) Love, beautiful,(Armin) stink, pookie, stinka butt(Connie) I cackled when making this

Head Cannon prompt list | Attack On Titan Masterlist

Eren

When Eren wants to get drunk it's gonna take more than just a few shots

Eren is not a lightweight it takes Eren maybe 2 bottles of straight Hennessy or vodka

And knowing how much your lovely bf loves to party you tend to be the designated driver most times

But what you love the most is when Eren gets so drunk that he gets so clingy

Just picture this

You and Eren are in the car on the way home from one of Connie's many college parties. And Eren's little ass decides it would be a good night to get fucked up. So as of right now Eren's hand is on your thigh as you drive home, “Baby, please let me lay on your lap they're like my pillows” Eren whines and slurs as he keeps trying to put his head down and over the console. “Eren no, I’m driving and I’m not bout to crash this damn car because you wanna lay on my lap. So sit back and cut it out.” Eren then reaches for your hand to hold, “Eren you can’t just take my hand when I’m driving. Just 10 more minutes then we're gonna be home.”

Sure you had to drive for 10 more minutes with a whiny, drunk, and clingy Eren but you did it, you made it in one piece. Getting out of the car and helping Eren get out, “Babyyyy, give me your attention now” this 6-foot man leans his entire body on your back “You can wait until we get in the house…. Eren imma need you to get off of me.” Earning a groan from your drunk boyfriend as he stands up straight, unlocking the door, and taking your shoes off heading towards the kitchen to get him a glass of water. Eren follows close behind, complaining that you're not giving him the attention he deserves. “Eren if you drink this I’ll give you attention, ok?” He grabs the drink from your hand chugging it down “Slow down Eren” giggling as water runs down his neck getting his shirt wet.

Eren finishes his water, putting the cup in the sink, “Ok let's go.” He drags you to your shared room taking his clothes off and he lays in bed waiting for you. Getting yourself ready for bed, You lay down in your spot opening your arms for Eren. Eren cuddles into your neck “I love you Y/N” he mumbles before dozing off, “I love you too ‘Ren”

Jean

Jean is a flirty drunk

Throughout the whole night of him drinking and getting drunk, all he did was flirt with you

One time when he got so drunk and didn't know who you were he was flirting with you

He throws pickup lines at you more compliments at you and when you say you have a BF he just doesn’t care (even tho he’s the bf)

The time he did forget you were his partner, then you tell him to bring him home he got as red as a baboon’s ass

“Hi, sweetheart. You here by yourself?” Jean asks you, completely forgetting he came to this dumb party with you, and you wanting to have a little bit of fun, you're gonna feed into this bullshit. “No. I’m here with my boyfriend.” giving him a wink as you sip on your drink in the corner of the room. “Well that sure sucks doesn't it but I was thinkin’ you bring your sexy ass home with me and I can show you how a man can really treat his partner instead of leaving them in the corner of the room.” Oh, what a dumb bf you got yourself.

You've been talking to Jean for 10 minutes listening to him throw his really bad pickup lines, “So aside from being sexy what else do you do for living, sweetheart?” Giving him a chuckle in response “Jean, I think it's time we go home now” “Oh, you want to bring me home pretty thing? I didn’t even get your name” He straightens his back tilting his head at you waiting for you to reply, “My name is Y/N and I’m your partner lets go” que Jean getting red as a baboon’s ass cheeks. “YOU'RE MY PARTNER” kissing him on the cheek you drag his tall ass out of the party.

Connie

Lord, we gonna need to put this one on a leash

Connie gets insanely horny when he is drunk but not just drunk he is also high so this dumb boy is cross faded

Like Connie calls you dumb nicknames and gets really handsy

When you guys leave the party all he tries to do is get in your pants

He’s a horny bitch but once you get home and he hits the bed he’s sleep

It’s been exactly 5 minutes since you got Connie to put down the drink and walk with you to the car, “Soo stink, we gonna fuck in the car?” turning around to face this dumb boy, “No, we are going home.” He gives you a hum and a wink like there is some kinda dirty meaning behind going home. Opening the door for him and pushing him inside, Connie brings his hand down to slap you on the ass, “Damn Stink, you see that recoil. Just imagine what it would like when I hit it from behind” he gives you a smirk as he puts the rest of his body in the car. Oh, it's gonna be a long drive you thought as you walk over to the driver's side.

Once you’re in the car Connie puts his hand on your thigh too close to your pus pus, “What you say stinka butt wanna get it on in the back?” bringing your pointer finger and thumb across your eyes then resting them on the bridge of your nose, “Con, imma need you to calm down.”

After about 20 slow minutes you finally reach home. Getting out of the car and helping Connie get out as well, Connie’s hand moves its way down your back and into your back pocket. Turning your head to look at him as you walk up to your apartment, “just wanna feel it pookie, it’s fat and squishy” shaking your head you unlock the door to your shared home. “Connie imma need you to go to our room and wait.” Connie takes his hand out of your pocket, bringing both his hands to lay on your waist, “Let me get a kiss first” he puckers up his lips waiting for a kiss. Rolling your eyes you lean in for a quick peck, just as you're about to pull away Connie grabs the back of your head deepening the kiss god you might be shocked but you couldn’t just turn away cause he feels so good.

“Ok, Con. Connie that’s it” mumbling between kisses you pull back much to Connie’s denies, “Connie go lie down in bed please just wait for me I’ll be right there” you kiss his cheek before stepping into the kitchen. Connie listens to you walking into the bedroom getting butt ass naked and waiting in bed for you, but just as you're walking back to the room with a glass of water and two pills of Advil. You see Connie in bed looking like a dead body. Letting out a little chuckle you give him one last kiss on his forehead before getting ready for bed yourself.

Armin

IMO I think our boy Armin here is a shy and kinda crybaby drunk

Like Armin is the type to confess for you so many times

I also just know that he is a lightweight like he can not handle more than 7 shots

But you love when he’s drunk because he always tells you he loves you

He is also another clingy drunk like Eren

You just brought Armin to a little party so he can wind down from all the stress from school and as you notice he got drunker and drunker he became more and more clingy. It started off with a hand on your thigh then a hand on your waist then before you knew it his whole upper half was leaning on your side his head in the crook of your neck as he whisper sweet words into your ear “my love you are the love of my life I can’t live without you” he mumbles and slurs his whole sentence into your ear. Rubbing his head you decide it’s time to go home.

Now you and Armin have been home for 10 minutes and he won’t shut up about how he loves you. “God you are so beautiful I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, I love you so damn much” he gives you little neck kisses in between each word

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fluentmoviequoter · 5 months

Note

A day of with Deacon please

As fluffy as possible

MY FIRST DEACON REQUEST!!! I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted! You didn't specify, so I went with wife!reader, hope that's okay (and we are once again pretending Annie never existed). Thank you for the request and please let me know what you think! :)

Warnings: so much fluff, some kissing and cuddling, teasing, I mention his eyes a lot bc they're so pretty. I think that's it.

Word Count: 2.1k+ words

(This isn't a Christmas-specific fic, I just liked this gif and it fits the story.)

David 'Deacon' Kay rarely gets a day off, let alone one that aligns with a day when you have nothing planned. Last night, he came home and pulled you into his arms, content to stay that way until he had to return to work. You laughed, however, and pointed out that he’d need to eat at some point.

Now, as his body clock attempts to wake him up far earlier than he’d like on his day off, he reaches across the bed for you. Your hand slips into his and leads him back to sleep. Once you’re sure he’s asleep again, you pull your hand away and sneak out of the bedroom. Deacon deserves breakfast in bed, but you don’t know how much time you have until he wakes up. When you finish cooking and set the plate and a cup of coffee on Deacon’s nightstand, you crawl back into bed and curl into his side, quickly joining him in slumber.

Deacon wakes up again a few minutes later, smiling when he feels you against his side. He looks down and sees your head on his shoulder, your arm across his waist, and your legs tangled with his. Brushing a hand over your hair, the smell of food distracts him as he looks over, his smile growing when he sees what you did for him. Moving so he doesn’t disturb you, he pulls the tray toward him, keeping a hand on your back.

“G’morning,” you mumble against his side, straightening your legs as you pull yourself closer to him.

Deacon tilts his head down, pressing a kiss against your temple. “Thank you,” he whispers against your skin.

You roll back slightly and sit beside him, smiling as you run your fingers through his hair, ruffled from a good night of sleep. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Deacon replies, kissing your forehead again before you insist he eat.

“It’ll get cold,” you point out when his hands stray to your waist.

“We can heat it up,” he argues, smiling against your cheek.

“That would require getting out of bed.”

Deacon sighs, feigning exasperation as he moves the tray to his lap and begins eating. He laughs when you steal a piece of your favorite from his plate, and the sound makes you fall even more in love with him, if that’s possible.

✯✯✯✯✯

As Deacon finishes eating, you leave his side and walk to the closet.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Deacon quips behind you.

“To get ready,” you reply, stifling a laugh.

“No ‘Deacon’s Day in Bed’?”

You look at him over your shoulder, smiling as he laughs at his joke.

“Fine,” he grumbles, stretching as he stands.

His hands grip your waist as he lays his chin on your shoulder.

“When’s the last time we had a day off together?” he asks.

“How old are you?” you joke. “A long time.”

“Then we should make the most of it.”

“What do you call this?”

“Affection,” he answers, pressing kisses against your neck.

You turn toward him, pressing a hand against his chest as he tries to kiss you.

“Morning breath,” you argue.

“Don’t care.”

“I do.”

Deacon shakes his head and turns you by your hips, directing you to the bathroom. He points at your toothbrush as he retrieves his own.

“You get bossy on your day off. Are you like this at work?”

“I’m worse.”

You laugh as his hand lands on your lower back, smiling at you in the mirror as you both get ready. His hand stays on you as you wash your face and finish your routine.

“Want to go for a walk? It’s beautiful out there,” Deacon asks, looking out the window as you follow him into the bedroom.

“Got the zoomies already?” you ask playfully, returning to the closet for shoes.

“What?” he asks, brows furrowed as he walks toward you.

“You’re used to working all day, it’s understandable to have zoomies,” you explain seriously.

“Aren’t 'zoomies' what you say about Street and Luca’s dog? You’re comparing me to a dog?”

“You have puppy eyes,” you say, shrugging as you wrap your arms around his waist. “And you did ask to go for a walk.”

“You’re lucky,” he mutters.

“How?”

“You know,” he answers, kissing you again.

The walk is short but enjoyable; Deacon’s hand is in yours as you go around the neighborhood. When you get home, Deacon kneels to take your shoes off, princess treatment carried into marriage.

“Do you want to watch that movie you’ve been talking about?” he asks as he stands.

You’ve been waiting to watch a new movie with him, but he’s been busy with work. When he offers, you shake your head excitedly and land several kisses across his face. He smiles under your kisses before leading you to the kitchen. He helps you prepare popcorn and your favorite movie snacks, arranging them on the coffee table as you queue the movie. Deacon sits beside you, laying an arm across your shoulders as you press play.

The first scene is nearly over when you feel Deacon rubbing your hair between his fingers. You look over at him, and he smiles innocently. Turning against him, his hand falls to your waist and begins rubbing up and down, over your ribs, and back down to your hip. Before you can catch onto the plot, Deacon distracts you completely by kissing up your neck and along your jaw. He leans back when you move, and you turn so you’re lying on his chest. With easy access, you begin painting his face with kisses as his hands hold your hips firmly. He tries to catch your lips, but you can’t risk growing distracted, so you pull backward.

An explosion sounds through the television speakers, and when you turn your head to the movie, Deacon takes the opportunity to flip you so you’re against the couch, and he’s hovering above you.

“My turn,” he claims, bending down as he begins kissing you in neat rows, up and down your face, over your cheekbones, and on your nose.

His eyes stay on yours, and you try to shy away from his affection, turning toward a cushion. He makes a ‘tsk’ noise under his breath as he turns your chin back toward him. He smiles, his puppy eyes as big and beautiful as ever, as he whispers, “I love you so much.”

“I love you more.”

Deacon shakes his head and moves you once more, letting you lay on his chest as you finish the movie; you trace shapes on his chest and down his arm as his hands explore your hair and back. The credits begin rolling, and you move your chin against the center of his chest, glad to feel the steady beat of his heart against your skin.

“What do you want to do with the rest of your day off?” you ask.

“I don’t care, as long as it’s with you,” he replies.

“Does that happen to involve lunch?” You bat your eyelashes as you ask, smiling when he laughs.

“I’m sure we can figure something out.”

He holds you against his chest as he sits up and reaches for his phone, ordering your favorite before returning his full attention to you. You take his hand, holding it in your lap as you trace his callouses.

“How was work this week?” you ask, looking at his hands.

Deacon's hands have always signified something to you, because the same hands that fight criminals and protect you day after day hold you gently and ensure you know how loved you truly are.

“It was good,” he answers quickly. Then he turns the conversation to you, asking what you’ve been up to.

“How’d you like that movie?” he teases.

“Oh, it was great. I especially liked the part that was playing while you kissed me.”

The doorbell rings, and you roll out of his lap, playfully huffing as he walks by. He laughs at your antics, distantly wishing he was around more to see them daily.

Deacon returns with the food, extending a hand to you as he leads you to the table. You sit in the chair closest to him, most of your chairs unused except for when 20 David comes over. He leans forward, gripping one of the legs of your chair to pull you closer. Laughing, you lay one of your thighs over his as you eat, sharing your food like you share everything else.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re touchy today,” you point out as Deacon runs his hand along your back.

“Which is different than usual?” he asks.

“I just- I feel special.”

“How so?”

“With what you do, no one would blame you if you never wanted physical contact again. But you show me that you love me with little touches, and don’t care when I do the same,” you answer, growing shy under Deacon's gaze.

“You know why? Because I do love you.”

“As I love you.”

Deacon loops both arms around your waist, swaying gently as your favorite song plays through the speaker.

“We could have done something special for your day off, you know,” you say.

“This is special. Next time I get a few days off, though, we’ll go somewhere.”

You laugh as Deacon dips you before pulling you up and spinning you. He asked you to dance as he slid your ring back on. Whenever you take it off to wash dishes, clean, or do anything that would risk breaking it, you give it to Deacon. If he’s not home, you place it in his nightstand, confident that he will guard it and return it safely to you. He invested in silicone rings for both of you, and when you have a day full of activities, you wear yours, but most of the time, you want to see your original wedding ring.

“Did you help Tan pick a ring?” you ask, remembering Deacon said he had one for his girlfriend.

“No, but rings are personal, I don’t know that I would help even if he asked.”

“You’re such a hopeless romantic… but you're my hopeless romantic.”

“‘Til death,” he adds, kissing your forehead.

The music ends, but you stay in Deacon’s arms as you ask what he wants to do next.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you express that you’re hungry again, knowing that Deacon won’t tell you if he is, he agrees to make dinner with you. Side-by-side, you work on preparing the meal, uncaring when Deacon tries to distract you. You complain but truly don’t mind, and he knows it.

“Deac,” you groan when his hands find your hips, standing behind you while you stir ingredients together.

He responds by saying your name in the same tone, smiling as he reaches around you and adds the spices.

“Thanks,” you say quietly.

After dinner, enjoyed in the same closely situated chairs you had lunch in, you clean up quickly. While Deacon puts the dishes away, you start a kettle to make your favorite hot drinks and remove the small dessert you prepared earlier from the fridge.

Deacon opens the patio door for you as he carries the dishes for the drinks and dessert. You sit in separate chairs, looking out over the yard as you talk about nothing and everything. Deacon’s hand wanders out of his chair and into yours, finding your fingers and lacing his with yours. Squeezing his hand once, you stand from your chair and move to his lap, leaning against his chest. You look up, unsurprised but disappointed that you can’t see any stars past the LA lights.

“That trip we’re taking when I’m off,” he begins, waiting for your nodded acknowledgment, “we’re going somewhere where we can see the stars again.”

“You’re the only star I need,” you reply, knowing how fluffy and cliche it sounds but not caring. It earns you a smile and a kiss, so it can't be too bad.

“It sounds amazing, though, thank you,” you whisper, shivering as a night chill blows in from the desert.

“That means it’s time to go inside,” Deacon whispers against your hairline.

He helps you carry everything inside and locks the door behind you. Once the dishes and the leftovers are put away, Deacon scoops you up in his arms, smiling at your laughter as he carries you to the bedroom.

You get ready for bed how you got ready for the day: together. When you join Deacon in bed, he pulls you close, letting you sit between his legs with your back against his chest. Your hearts beat in sync as he picks up a book from his nightstand. It’s been too long since you had the time to do this, but as he reads, you know that the long, sometimes lonely time between days off makes them worth it.

#david deacon kay x reader #deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #david deacon kay #deacon kay #swat cbs #requests #🥰 anon

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kokinu09 · 2 months

Text

Let Go of the Reins || Chapter 3

~*~

pairing seungmin x fem!reader

genre strangers to lovers, romance, fluff, slight angst later, happy ending, social media, not meant to be, someday

summary Australia is considered home for two of the eight members. When two tour dates are scheduled for the land down under, the boys can’t help but want to spend a bit more time there to visit family and do a little sightseeing. So how do they convince the company that they need to stay a couple weeks? Filming some SKZ Code episodes.

A local riding school just outside the city with amazing reviews for their skilled instructors and beautiful horses is hosting a very popular kpop group to film their experiences. Y/N knows the group well and she just so happens to be their star working student.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

previous | masterlist | next

~*~

The getting ready part was easy. After Olivia spent a little too long on your makeup (and having to run through the barn to get everything prepped in time), you manage to have all 8 of your selected horses for the guys lined up before the film crew arrives. The other dozen or so horses for the crew were your other coworkers’ problems. You got to pick your lineup and you couldn’t be happier with your bunch.

You finish securing the saddle on Storm’s back, the last one you needed, and shake out your shoulders. The nerves start to sink in as the seconds tick by.

Storm nickers by your head, giving you a gentle nudge as if to comfort you. You giggle as your hands reach up to pat his neck, equally as comforting towards your equine companion. “Thanks Buddy. I’m ok,” you say with a smile.

Your smile falters momentarily as you hear footsteps approaching. Swallowing down your nerves, you turn expecting the group of boys but instead, it is a couple of the staff members approaching with a mic and wires in hand. Right, you’ll need to be just as heard as they do.

“Hello, are you Miss Y/N?” The young woman asks.

“Yes, that’s me!” You brighten your smile and offer a polite bow. They both seem pleasantly surprised as they happily return the gesture, quickly getting to work mic’ing you up for the shoot.

“The crew should be over shortly.” The man informs nicely before they both bow and head back the way they came. Leaving you with your nerves to stew in your gut until the boys show up.

Keeping yourself busy is definitely the best way to prevent a downward spiral into anxiety, so you double-check each horse’s equipment to make sure everything is secure and ready for the ride. Even taking the time to give all the horses a little pep talk. Maybe that was more for yourself but who’s to say?

As promised, it isn’t long before you hear the telltale signs that the boys are coming closer. The loud laughs and teasing bickers pulls an uncontrollable smile onto your face, a giddy feeling replaces your apprehension. This whole situation suddenly feels unreal.

Yesterday, you’d been too worried about making sure they knew the dos and dont’s of safety to process the fact that you were face-to-face with your favorite group. Now, you just can’t believe you’re lucky enough to get to talk to them! Let alone spend the entire afternoon teaching them about a passion of yours, horses and riding!

You turn just in time to see the same boy who you’d fateful met yesterday running towards you in the most adorable way; arms hanging at his sides, ‘running’ being a loose term, looking more like a happy trot just to get to you a little quicker than the others, and a huge smile spread across his face. And you can’t help but grin back, your excitement to see him just as high as his to see you it seems.

“Hello again,” he says in a hushed greeting once he’s close enough.

“Well hello there,” you return with a giggle. “Feeling up for being on the horse rather than underneath it?”

Your teasing earns a smirk from the menace himself but he doesn’t get the chance to reply as the others finally have caught up. Chan comes up beside him and ruffles his hair, much to his displeasure. “Looks like you beat us here, Seungminnie!” He teases, turning to you without paying any attention to the glare from the younger. “And you must be Y/N! I’m Chan, it’s nice to officially meet you!” He smiles and bows respectfully.

“Yes! It’s nice to meet you too!” You agree, returning his respect. He grins wide at you then turns to the others.

“Everyone say ‘annyeonghaseyo’ to Y/N-ssi!” He instructs.

All the boys turn to you with their hands folded in front of them as they bow, saying in unison, “Annyeonghaseyo, Y/N-ssi.”

A blush spreads across your face, eyes scanning over them bowing towards you while you catch sight of the cameras in the corner of your eye. Way too much attention is directly on you right now. You have to divert. You hastily bow over and over towards them with a loud, nervous laugh.

“Hello! Thank you!” You straighten up as they do and offer a sincere smile. “It’s wonderful to meet all of you,” you tell them, looking at each of them to show how much it really means to you. Another camera pointed at you catches your eye and your shoulders stiffen, nerves returning. “We should probably get started!”

That sets the other Aussie member bouncing on his heels.

“Yes please! Which one is mine?? I can’t wait to pet them!” Felix’s excitement sends the group into a fit of laughter as they begin teasing the ball of sunshine in a mix of Korean and English.

With the boys talking and distracting the cameras, you take the opportunity to turn away to act like you’re adjusting Storm’s harness. But actually, you inhale a shaky breath.

“Hey,” the soft greeting still startles you slightly. You find Seungmin beside you now, one hand gripping the mic on his shirt, the other lifted to pet Storm’s snout.

“O-oh! Hey,” your chin ducks in embarrassment. Now you’re stuttering? This is a disaster.

“Don’t let the cameras scare you. You’re doing great,” he says. And when he looks over to meet your eyes, you can see his sincerity.

You breathe out a sigh, relieved from the show of support. “Right, yeah,” after just a moment’s pause you add, “Thank you.”

The smile that lights up his face sends a swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. That expression makes it clear why he’s known as a puppy. You can practically see his proverbial tail wagging behind him and you can’t help but think it is absolutely adorable.

”Ah-yah! Seungmin~!” Felix whines, causing your spine to stiffen like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “You’re already petting the horses?! I asked first!”

Seungmin releases his muffled mic and turns with that teasing smirk of his. “If you weren’t running your mouth, maybe Y/N-ssi would be able to introduce us to them.” He spouts in Korean.

At the indignant cry from the younger Aussie boy, you wave your hands in front of you. “No, no! It’s alright! You weren’t interrupting anything! We aren’t in a rush!” You quickly assure…also in Korean.

All the boys freeze to stare at you with wide eyes. The almost eerie silence from them all draws a cold sweat to your skin.

“You…speak Korean?” Chan asks, his face reflecting the astonishment, almost skepticism, in his voice.

“Well, I’m still learning… but I’m getting pretty good at understanding,” you say as your shoes become incredibly interesting.

Suddenly, a different pair of shoes joins in your line of vision. Your wide eyes lift to find the maknae of the group standing there, looking at you with starry eyes, and before he says, “Noona is so cool!”

A chorus of agreement from Han, Felix, and Changbin sounds behind the youngest causing your face to erupt into the color of a tomato. Chan, bless his soul, is quick to step in, settling the boys down and regaining focus to their task ahead of them for filming. By the way he talks, they’ll probably be editing a lot of that out. Which you’re beyond grateful for.

“Cool. Now, where were we?” Chan offers the stage back over to you.

“I was just about to introduce you all to your horse partners for the day!”

A few of the members can’t help their eager squeals as you go on, walking over to the first horse in line. A gorgeous black stallion.

“Here at Hooves and Harmony Riding Academy, we’ve been very fortunate to raise a wide variety of breeds on the ranch. Some of those are particularly rare, like this boy here!” You explain, mostly for the cameras. “Chan, you’ll be working with Shadow today. He has high energy but is surprisingly patient with his riders!”

The eldest walks up slowly, his face showing his awe for the creature as he takes your place beside him as you move to the next. This stallion has a thicker build with an almost black mane and solid brown coat. His snout being the exception as it looks like he dipped it in white paint. “Lee Know, this is Copper. He’s big but a total sweetheart. I think you’ll work really well with him.”

Minho’s lips are pouted in the shape of an O as he places a gentle hand on the white muzzle of the horse. You smile to yourself (so far so good!) before walking to the next. Changbin bounces on the balls of his feet in anticipation, eyes locked on the horse he knows is going to be assigned to him. One of the strongest horses you’d been allowed to pick from. His bulkier muscles covered with a beautiful red-toned coat with black tips to his ears and legs to match his black mane. “I can see you’re excited, so Changbin, this is Jersey. He’s our biggest bay boy!”

The boy can’t help his ecstatic shout and he gets a few panicked looks that he’ll startle the huge animal. “Don’t worry, he’s super tolerant to noises so you shouldn’t have any issues with him,” you assure everyone with confidence. Changbin hurries over with the biggest smile you may have ever seen on him.

“Y/N-ssi really has thought of everything!” He cheers, patting his horse’s neck as he takes his place.

You try to push down the blush that heats your face while you make your way over to the dark chocolate spotted mare. “This sweet girl’s name is Daisy. She’s a little dramatic at times but she is one of the most reliable of the bunch!” You explain, looking to Hyunjin. “I thought you’d enjoy this fun little fact too! Most people like to refer to horses with this pattern on her coat as ‘paint’ horses.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen and sparkle. “Because it looks like she’s been splattered with paint!” He beams, immediately befriending the mare with chin scratches that there’s no way he could have known were her favorite.

You giggle, continuing on to the next; an older mare but no less beautiful. Her white coat littered with hundreds of little brown specks. “And this is Freckles! Our resident leopard! She’s the oldest in this group so she’s very laid back and easy to work with.”

Han gives you a skeptical look, knowing by the order you’ve introduced the members to their horses so far that this is his, then glances at Felix. Thinking you’d accidentally mix them up because they’re so close in age that they’re almost twins. You laugh a little at the subtle implication. “Even though her looks would make you think I’d pair her with Felix, I think you’ll have a lot of fun with her today, Han! She has been known to play little tricks on the other horses from time to time.” You say with a mischievous wink.

The rapper’s heart-shaped smile spreads across his face at this news and he greets the mare with hesitant hands at first. That is until Freckles presses her snout into his palms, impatient for attention.

When you look over to Felix, you can see his excitement already bubbling over the surface. The boy basically vibrating with the biggest eyes and smile. You walk over to the beauty he will be handling for the day. Her cream-colored coat only a few shades darker than her white mane, the longer hairs adorning a slight curl not super common with their other horses.

“Felix, I’d like to introduce you to Rosie! She is always so poised and calm, not to mention absolutely stunning! I think you two will have a nice relaxing ride together.” Having been the most giddy of them all from the get-go, it doesn’t surprise you when he sprints to take his place beside the elegant steed.

Only two more. And so far, they’ve all been super happy with your choices of companions for them. But why are your palms sweaty and your heart racing even thinking about telling Seungmin about your choice for him?

You manage to swallow the lump of fear in your throat and keep moving, avoiding lifting your head his way. Instead, coming up beside the chestnut spotted mare with more white than spots. You reach up and brush the fringe of her mane away from her eyes. ‘It’s her moment in the spotlight, gotta make sure she’s looking her best!’ The internal monologue makes you chuckle under your breath.

It’s impossible to avoid the inevitable forever though, so you finally look over to Seungmin. His eyes are watching you. Your gaze meets his and it feels like the world is frozen. Or maybe it’s only you. But you also can’t seem to care.

You don’t know how long you stand there just staring into his warm brown eyes, but the only thing that snaps you out of it is the smirk that tugs at his lips with a soft chuckle. Eyes blinking rapidly, you take a quick glance around to find everyone looking at you curiously. By some miracle, your face doesn’t turn beet red (at least you don’t think so) when you try to play it off with a little cough to clear your throat.

“Sorry, uh, this next girl is very special to me. Her name is Pearl.” You say with a smile as you pet her soft nose. “She came to the ranch at the same time as my horse Storm did. And they’re best buddies, virtually inseparable! So, by association, we’re virtually inseparable!” The boys all join in with your laugh. “But I would trust this girl if I was riding blindfolded, so I know she will take good care of you.” You turn to smile warmly at her intended rider.

Seungmin steps forward until he is in your space, casually placing his hand on the horse’s neck. You vaguely hear the other members talking but you’re too busy fighting the racing of your heart. The pounding deafening to your own ears and you’re marginally worried that the mic pinned to your chest will pick up on all of it.

“Thank you for entrusting me with her.” His voice just over a whisper. You let out a giggle.

“Or I am trusting her with you,” you counter jokingly. “Can’t say you haven’t given me reason to believe you’ll fall off.” He breathes out a laugh, eyes sparkling with mirth and maybe something else you can’t quite place. All you know is that you’d give anything to turn the cameras off and get to talk to him without these extra nerves buzzing in your gut.

“I’ll try not to, but no promises,” he jokes.

“I’m still going to hold you to it, Puppy Boy.”

The two of you laugh a little too loudly and catch the attention of Felix next to you. You don’t see the knowing smile on his face before he gives the younger member a light shove, a gentle reminder of where they are and who is around. Both of you seem to sober up as your backs straighten and he offers you an apologetic smile.

“Let’s move on while the staff are still distracted by my loudmouth brothers,” Seungmin says with a teasing eye roll.

“Hey, I heard that,” Felix grumbles under his breath. You giggle at the baritone showing in his voice, the first time hearing it. Momentarily you wonder how many times you might be able to aggravate him enough to hear it during the trail ride. But you catalog that in the back of your mind for later.

Making your way around the singer, with a shy tip of your head, you come to the last of their partners. The stallion growing excited as soon as he sees you approaching, his head bobbing dramatically up and down as a show. His black mane thrashing in the crisp February air.

“Hey now, Monster! Behave yourself, we have guests!” You scold without any bite. You manage to catch his bridle and settle him down, rubbing a hand along his strong brown neck. He still attempts to wrap around your front to lay his head on your shoulder but you stop him with a laugh. You release the strap and ruffle his bangs, just over the single white spot on his forehead.

“Last but certainly not least, I.N you will be working with Monster! He is such a jokester and so fun to ride. I think you two will get along really well!” You tell the maknae who looks giddy with his own excitement.

The youngest trots over and the big brown horse immediately takes a shining to him, tapping his foot happily as he nudges his hand for pets. It feels good that everyone seems happy with the horses you’ve assigned to them. And the horses seem content with their riders, so you take it as your first win of the day!

You move back to the front of the line and untie Storm’s reins, leading into the space the boys had just occupied, where all of them can see you. “Now that we’ve gotten the introductions out of the way, let’s really get started!” You cheer, ready to get them mounted in their saddles and riding so you can all be back from the first trail by lunchtime.

~*~

taglist

@kangaracha @rainfallingfromthesky @puppysmileseungmin @defnotfertilizedtoesw @teenyfinds @bbokari711 @lakoya @keepswingin

#let go of the reins #stray kids smau #skz smau #seungmin x reader #stray kids fic #skz fic #kokinu09 writes #seungmin #seungmin stray kids #koki writes

45 notes · View notes

smashtbh · 2 years

Note

Okay so, fic where reader and Billy have to bribe Max cause Billy got caught sneaking out to go smoke with reader in his car<33

Deal Maker

Billy Hargrove x M!reader | fem aligned + minors dni!

not my gif!

CW: swearing, drug use, mentions of eddie munson, sprinkle of jealous billy, max & billy having your average sibling dynamic, fluff, reader is a good boyfriend, short n sweet.

he/him pronouns are used to refer to the reader.

a/n: i dropped everything i was doing to write this so if theres any mistakes mb i got too excited 😭

Billy is sitting on his bed playing with the collar of his shirt when he sees the flashing lights from outside his window. He gets up to fix his hair one more time before opening it — running back to his door to make sure that it’s locked, then starts hopping out.

By the time he’s out, he sees Y/N smiling in the car. The headlights turn off as Billy starts to walk towards him. He opens the passenger door and is greeted by the smell of some good ass weed.

“Woah, holy shit.”

“Yeah,” Y/N laughs, “Munson hooked me up with some good stuff.”

Billy pouts as he sits down. “That’s cus he thinks you’re pretty.”

Y/N grins at him, grabbing the lighter in the cupholder. “Everyone thinks I’m pretty.”

“I know, it’s horrible.” Billy groans, reaching an arm over Y/N to uncomfortably hug him close in the small space. “They can look, s’long as they don’t touch.”

Y/N tries to get out of Billy’s grasp, but gives up when Billy won’t let go. “Nobody touches me when I have you hissing like a cat at anyone that looks my way a little too long.”

Billy just smiles and kisses his cheek. “Damn right.” He lets go and gets comfortable in his seat. “Spark up, baby.”

After a rather steamy smoke session, Y/N drives them around. He takes them to a gas station, getting snacks and drinks before driving them back to Billy’s place.

Billy asks Y/N to stay with him a little longer, so they smoke another joint in the car, make out for a good 20 minutes, then go back in the house through Billy’s window.

“We can watch a movie,” Billy says as he helps Y/N through, “Or we can finish what we started in the car.” He winks and waggles his eyebrows.

“That’s disgusting.”

Billy turns to the direction of his door, missing Y/N’s hand — causing Y/N to fall through the window and into the room.

“What the fu — “

“I picked the lock on your door because I thought you were ignoring me when I asked where all the icecream went.” Max says nonchalantly. “Guess you were doing.. other things.” She waves a hand at Y/N.

“Hi, Max.”

“Hi, ‘other things’. Care to tell me where you stole Billy to this time?” She asks, raising an eyebrow and leaning on the door frame.

“It doesn’t matter,” Billy interjects, “You won’t snitch, right?”

Max shrugs, “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.”

Billy scratches his head in frustration, “Are you being serious right now?“ He leans on the wall behind him and slides to the floor where Y/N is laying down.

“Yep.” Max pops the P. “Would be a shame if I told ‘em you snuck out.” She combs a hand through her hair, “You’d loose your Camaro for weeks.”

Billy’s hand twitches. “Max.”

“Wouldn’t be able to go out, call anyone, and you’d be stuck with doing the dishes for months.” She laughs.

“Max, stop.” Billy sits up straighter. “We can make a deal.”

Max quiets at that. “I’m listening.”

Billy’s mouth closes to a thin line and he ponders for a moment. “Uh — I’ll.. I’ll drive you around for 3 weeks!” He fidgets with his earring, “Wherever you wanna go, I’ll take you.”

“Why would I need you to drive me around when Y/N takes me everywhere.” She rolls her eyes.

Y/N shrugs. “She pays gas money.”

Billy face palms. “Shut up, both of you.” He stands up, holding his hand out for Max.

“I’ll give you all my cassette tapes.”

Max’s expression changes to one of a child on the morning of their birthday. But Billy raises his finger to point at her, “Don’t snitch me out.”

Max shakes her head quickly, “Me? Snitch? Never.” She mumbles.

Billy grins, “Then they’re yours.”

“Really?!”

“No.”

“Are you fucking kidding me — “

“I’m joking! I’m joking!” Billy gasps for air as he laughs. “You can have ‘em. Just — let me borrow a couple every once in a while.”

Max scoffs before running and hugging Billy, wrapping her arms tight around his neck. “Thank you.” She mumbles.

“Yeah yeah, okay weirdo.” Billy says with no real malice, holding her for a moment before shoving her off of him.

She runs to his desk and grabs the bag of cassette tapes inside. She’s out the door with nothing but a “See ya, freaks!” and a middle finger.

Billy sighs before turning and looking at Y/N who finally stood up. “There goes all my damn music.”

Y/N smiles, walking towards him before hugging him. “That was a nice thing to do, sweetheart.”

“Thanks?”

“You’re welcome.”

“Fuckin’ weirdo.” Billy mutters as he goes on his tippy toes to kiss Y/N’s cheek.

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#stranger things #stranger things x male reader #male reader #x male reader #gay #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x male reader #gay billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader

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howdoyousleep3 · 2 years

Text

Rating: Explicit (E) Word Count: ~ 5.2 K (i have no chill, it seems) Notable Tags: Mafia Boss Steve Rogers, Daddy Kink, Age Difference, Established Relationship, Manhandling, Spanking, Slapping (pussy and face), Crying, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Light Breathplay, Office Sex, Desk Sex, Possessive Behavior, Flirty Bisexual Bucky Barnes A/N: Ugh y'all, these two. This has been in my WIP folder for so so long now and I'm thrilled to finally finish it and share it, even if it almost ended me and even if I hated it by the end because I'd been staring at it for far too long. 😅 Special thank you to those who looked it over and reassured me constantly, @vilkasdaina, @maddiewritesstucky, and @sweeterthanthis. Find more of Daddy and his Kitten's story here. Read on Ao3 here. I hope you enjoy! 🧡

You try your hardest to not let the power go to your head.

The love of your life may be the feared and respected leader of the underbelly of the east coast, but you know who he comes crawling back to each night, who has the honor of worshiping him in a way that no one has had the privilege to before.

While you try your hardest to not let said power go to your head, it never fails to do just that each and every damn time you’re reminded of your possession over each other. And if it goes right to your pussy as well as your head, who can blame you?

The moment you catch Bucky’s eye from down the hallway, you can hear the relief in his voice, can see it in the way he takes a deep breath and lets his shoulders drop.

“Fuck, doll— I’ve never been happier to see someone in my whole fuckin’ life,” he exclaims as his eyes run down the line of your body, his eyebrow arching immediately. You aren’t sure why he’s surprised; he warned you that pulling out all the stops was necessary on a day like today.

“I’m happy I could make your day,” you joke as you reach for each other in greeting, Bucky’s fingers wrapping around your nape, lips pressing tightly against your cheek. He smells like spearmint, a bit musky like he’s worked up a sweat at some point during the day. You’re almost certain it’s sweat brought on by his boss and you already feel the need to apologize on his behalf for working Bucky up over what is assuredly nothing.

“Sweetheart, if you can fix his fucking attitude you’ll make more than just my day.”

You’re sure you should be offended on some level, degraded maybe, but being called in to help improve Steve’s piss poor mood makes you feel special, makes you hot right where it counts. Knowing that others have done what they can to help improve his mood, his sharp tongue and his short patience, with no success makes you feel unique, privileged, one of a kind. It makes you hold your chin high.

You know what your Daddy needs, know that you hold the answer to what will improve everyone’s day, starting with Steve’s own. Everyone knows why you’re here, everyone knows what you can bring to the boss that no one else can, and you aren’t ashamed in the slightest.

You’re almost tempted to drop the thin, knee-length jacket you’re donning to the floor right where you stand outside Steve’s office. Then there would be no trace of doubt left behind as to why you’re here and what you’re bringing to the boss.

“Anything I should know?” you inquire softly, Bucky immediately sighing and running a hand down his face in response to your question.

“Nothin’ new, same prick as always, just maybe…times ten. Can’t get two words out without him snapping at you, not one goddamn thing is good news. Dealt with some trouble down in the borough himself, went a bit far. Might still be bloodied up from that. Didn’t even lift his spirits any.”

It’s worse than you thought. Your plan immediately shifts in your head where you stand. He doesn’t need a docile, sweet partner— he needs that final push. You nod your head, mind quickly made up, and turn towards Steve’s office doors.

“You sure you don’t wanna stick around, Buck?” you tease quietly, and it’s indeed a bad day if Bucky, although he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, shakes his head as he begins to walk away.

“Goddamn, you know I’d love to, doll. But I can’t stick around and look at his ugly fuckin’ mug for one more second; I gotta go do some damage control. He may owe me for this, but I owe you.”

Another time then.

You wouldn’t have needed Bucky’s warning to know that Steve is indeed having an awful day; the state of his office is enough of a sign that things are not going well. Chairs are misplaced, papers scattered and quite obviously unorganized on both the coffee table and his desk. Steve enjoys a calm work environment, is a man that prioritizes tasks daily, enjoys sunlight and openness, demands serenity from the aspects of his life he can control.

Steve is not having a very good day.

You don’t bother locking the door; you aren’t worried about others seeing you with the boss. You almost hope it happens; it might improve his mood even further. You make quick work of the belt on your coat, slipping it off from your shoulders and draping it along the back of a chair. The crisp air of Steve’s office slips up your spine, your neck, down your nearly nude form. It’s comforting as it spreads across your heated body, has your shoulders squaring on their own accord.

Your matching lingerie set is black and sheer, leaves nothing to the imagination with the strings of your thong resting high on your hips and your bra cupping your breasts perfectly. You leave your heels on, just as he’d like, same with your stockings. Steve is weak for the feel of their sheerness, softness, on his skin and you’ll take any sort of help you can get.

His back is turned to you, his attention placed solely on whatever it is he is looking at at the table behind his desk. Even hunched over and irritated, he exudes such natural power and dominance you can’t help the warmth that builds between your legs, the way your eyelids droop at the sight of him alone. His dark slacks, his crisp white dress shirt that’s open at the collar, the ring on his pinky and the matching gold of a watch at his wrist, the ink that litters his body with purpose— he’s so obviously a man in charge.

You want to console him, want to press your lips to his temple and hum, want to sit yourself in his lap and ground him, but from what Bucky has told you, that won’t work today. You're racking your brain of how to proceed when Steve is the one to speak up first.

You should have known that he would be more than aware of your presence. You’re the one that has snuck into his office unannounced and here he is, speaking up with a stern enough voice that it startles you.

“What are you doin’ here, kitten?”

His tone demands an answer, an honest one and a quick one. It’s an impatient tone you aren’t used to but one that fits this environment. You’re bristled at his shortness but you don’t let it show, keeping your chin high and voice firm.

“What do you think I’m doing here?” you respond with, beginning to slowly make your way in Steve’s direction, heels muted against the sprawling rug in his office, trailing your fingertip over the leather seats as you prowl. He scoffs then, a tiny noise that could be mistaken for something it isn’t, but to you it almost feels like a slap to the cheek, and not the kind you’re fond of.

You continue to take steps in his direction nonetheless.

He turns and looks over his shoulder and there’s a brief moment where you feel you’ve won, where you feel victorious in your purpose in the way he allows himself to drink you in, eyes damn near a physical touch as they roam your form. It is but a moment though, and he’s quick to turn his attention back in the other direction.

You don’t think he’s ever rejected you.

In fact, he’s always been quick to do the opposite, to make you more than aware that he craves you day and night.

You’re immediately miffed, more than so. You look like a fucking bombshell, you left work early, you’re ready to help melt the stress away from your boyfriend’s day— how dare he not drop everything and crawl in your direction?

You think you’re angry now, but then you hear him mumble a curt, “I’m a bit busy here, sweetheart,” and that’ll do it.

Fuck him.

You can’t even stop to see this situation from his point of view, can’t calm your emotions long enough to consider the circumstances that brought you here. You’re standing here in stockings and sheer lingerie and red bottoms and he wants to dismiss you? No, no. You don’t even hesitate to go for the kill, go right for what will piss him off the most.

“Oh, that’s fine,” you start, voice deceivingly angelic as you glance down at your pristine manicure, paid for by him of course. “Bucky seemed to think I could come make your day, but if you want to be a dick about it, I’ll go see if he is willing to take full advantage of all of this.”

You don’t even wait for him to say anything, digging your heel into the carpet as you turn your back on him, your body trembling all over in anger. You make sure he gets an eyeful though, the cherry on top surely being the sway of your hips, the view of your ass he can never say no to.

You make it two steps towards the door after reaching for your coat before his hands are on you.

He wraps a thick arm around your waist, his other hand coming up to curl around the front of your throat, yanking you back against his chest. You can immediately feel the way his own body trembles with caged emotion, and while it should be a comfort to you, it is anything but. It could be pent up emotions from the day, it could be ones you’re bringing out right now. It could be a combination of the two. Either way, you do not find solidarity in your shared outbursts.

The fight within you is strong. You’re ready to take him on and if he wants to go about it in such a physical way, then so be it.

“You wanna run that by me again, kitten?” he spits lowly into your ear, holding you roughly against the rigid line of his much larger body. You don’t make it easy for him, twisting and bucking as much as you can as he pulls you back further into his office, further away from the door. As physically useless as the fight is, pushing back feels good. You dig your blood red nails into his forearm, thrash against his hold.

“Yeah, sure,” you bite out like a brat, making sure to speak clearly. “If you’re not going to take advantage of me, I’m sure Bucky would love to. In fact—”

Your words are muffled by his hand, the last of them drowned out by his growl. You kick over a chair as he picks you up off the floor, knocking it to the ground as you flail, and as you reach his desk, you happily tear your teeth into Steve’s palm. He only grunts in frustration, hand coming back down to your neck in an instant, frustration evident in the way his fingers curl around the column of it.

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth,” he whispers against your temple, and you can’t stop your husky laugh as it tumbles out of your mouth.

“Daddy doesn’t mean that.”

With a noise of frustration, he has you shoved over his desk at the waist, hip bones digging sharply into the expensive oak. Your coat is long forgotten a few steps back and his hand is on your ass without pause, squeezing roughly at one cheek and then the other. The set of smacks that follow are startling, painful and succinct.

You love it.

The huff you let out is intended to be one of irritation, of shock, but instead it comes out laced with throaty pleasure. Damn Steve Rogers and the size of his hands, his strength, his intimate knowledge of everything that makes your pussy throb and your walls crumble for him and only him.

He may have you deliciously and physically restrained, but you’re still more than upset he didn’t want a taste of what you’ve brought to him, a taste of this. But he still hasn’t covered your mouth, and you’re not quite done pushing his buttons.

“Daddy loves it when my mouth is wide open. Right, Daddy? Didn’t you say something like that last night?”

You rarely speak to him this way, goading and aggressive, and you momentarily question whether or not you’re crossing a line. That is, until you feel his cock dig into the cushion of your ass cheek, the grind unintentional if his grumble turned bitten-off groan tells you anything. Perfect— you’ve just figured out how to help improve your boyfriend’s mood.

You roll your ass back into his cock, swirl your hips back against his bulge.

With a snarl, he flips you, tosses you onto your back onto his desk.

Goddamn. You pause for a moment to take note of how fucking hot Steve is when he’s angry. It’s different when it’s at you, you see this now. You’ve witnessed his anger directed at others, but you’ve not once been on the receiving end of it. Maybe you should make him angry more often.

His chest heaves as he looks down at you, stormy eyes slow to rake over your surely flushed body, a normally slicked-back lock of hair curling over his forehead. The tattoos that lace the column of his throat seem more pronounced with his open collar and his heaving chest. There isn’t a stray beard hair in sight, the salt and pepper hairs trimmed close to his skin. The pause drags on for a few seconds more and you almost feel the need to heel and spread your legs and to give in. But that’s not what Steve needs.

Instead you spread your legs and bring the point of your heel up to dig into his shoulder.

He visibly grits his teeth as he gazes down hotly at you, his hands coming to grip your waist tight enough to make you wince. But you don’t break eye contact, even as he leans into your heel, even as he digs it further into his shoulder. Fuck, you’re in love with this man.

“You think Bucky would tell me to keep my mouth closed?” you whisper without shame, leaning up onto your elbows to drive the point home. “You think he’d appreciate me coming into his office in his favorite pair of panties of mine, just about begging to be fucked?”

It’s harsh, yes, but you’re still upset and you have a job to complete; you’re not a quitter. And it pays off immediately when Steve all but growls, “You think he can give you somethin’ I can’t?”

Perfect.

You dig your foot into his chest with a hard shove.

“No.”

You can’t see the confusion in Steve’s features but you know it’s there. He can stay light on his feet all he wants but you’re hard to keep up with, you know this.

Dropping your foot from his shoulder, you wrap both of them around his waist, damn near yanking him towards you. The impressive bulge in his pants is hard as steel and you whimper softly yet unashamedly when it grinds in tight against your panty-covered pussy, eyes still on his. Feeling his need for you, it’s easy for the anger to slightly clear and for you to finally consider the kind of day he’s had, that he needs you to prove to him that this is part of your purpose as his partner.

“No, he can’t, Steven,” you sternly tell him, voice low yet demanding as you reach for the collar of his shirt, tugging. “No one can give me what you can give me.”

A spark of a flame reaches his eyes then, hitting him right where it counts, right in that possessive bone in his body. You speak into his mouth, his warm breath on your tongue causing your chest to constrict.

“But if you want to be a dick about me showing up looking hot as fuck, showing up just so you can fuck me and go about your day as the boss, then yes— I’m gonna tease you about someone else appreciating me”

Steve rolls his hips slowly, deeply, rumbles as he rakes his hands up your torso to palm roughly at your breasts over your bra, your nipples pebbling immediately. He pinches them both before his hands are moving on. You hiss, clit throbbing at the rough attention.

“You’re a real fuckin’ piece’a work. You know that?”

You dig your heels into his back when you huff, brazenly nipping at his chin.

“Of course I know that. Now, fuck me, Daddy. Take it out on me, use me to feel better. Come on.”

Steve never needs to be told twice; he’s a man of action. He takes full advantage of being told he has complete access to your body, reaching for the strings of your panties and ripping them down your legs carelessly.

“Of fucking course you wore the stockings. Knew from the moment you walked in here. With these on, you’re up to no fuckin’ good.”

He grabs and squeezes at handfuls of your thighs as he speaks and you finally cave and give into the moment with a whine, head falling back onto the desk. Steve shoves your legs apart in the air around his body, his hand coming down tightly over your bare pussy, first one time and then a few smacks after that. Fuck. The sting of it is exactly what you want, what this moment is worthy of, and you clench desperately around nothing in response.

“Motherfucker,” you damn near snarl, and where you’d normally spread your legs further and pout, you try your hardest to pull them tightly closed. Steve needs a fight, needs to burn off more energy than a normal fuck will provide him with. He proves you right once more when he pries your legs apart, uses a kind of force that you rarely see. You’re no match for his strength. Your legs are barely pressed together for two seconds before he’s got them spread yet again with a growl.

You barely get out a hiss of “Yes,” before he’s draped over you, mouth latching onto your neck. It’s so much. In your head you hadn’t got as far as this, your plan only reaching up to you convincing Steve to have his way with you, and even that hadn’t gone as planned. You hadn’t considered how difficult it would be to keep your goal and purpose in the forefront of your mind while Steve actively ravaged your body.

His mouth is brutal on your neck, the press of teeth and the suction of lips enough to leave you gasping, your hands making weak attempts at pushing him away. You feel him reach between your bodies and fumble with his belt, the zipper of his pants, and you force out an impatient noise to rile him up further.

“Come on, Daddy— give it to me,” you murmur, reaching around to dig your hands into his ass. “Show this little pussy why you’re her Daddy, why you own her.”

“Fuckin’ hell, kitten…”

He brings his hand up to his mouth, collects spit on a few of his fingers, brings them back down to his cock. He doesn’t slam his way inside of you, and while he ensures you aren’t in unwanted pain, that first deep slide is enough to shove you halfway to your climax already. The girth of him never fails to take your breath away, to send you sailing into orbit.

His deep and appreciative groan is enough to have made all of this shit worth it, the chaos that was this almost failed attempt at providing your boyfriend with stress relief. It’s also enough to send you that much closer to your orgasm.

There is no difference between the pushiness and aggression leading up to this point and this moment; Steve fucks you with unabashed emotion and need. You aren’t used to this, this sort of raw need, this force. The walls of your pussy strain to take him, to adjust. The sensation of Steve on top of you, between your legs, the whole weight of him pressing you into his desk, being selfish is foreign.

Where Steve is usually smooth and focused and giving, this version of him is anything but.

He isn’t concerned about you for a second, not your pleasure or your feelings. His hands delve up into your hair, the both of them, twisting them as he fucks roughly up into your pussy, grinding and rolling and humping. He holds you where he wants you, restricts your movements and keeps you where he can best get his dick soaked. It’s a form of bliss you’ve not once experienced, and your shared eye contact, this heavy gaze he refuses to break, makes you choke on a sob.

“Fuck it,” you bite out against his mouth, barely able to hear your words over the rush of blood in your ears, over the sound of him fucking into you with abandon. “You fuck that pussy like no one else can, Daddy. That’s Daddy’s pussy.”

Steve curses. Even as you say the words, you feel them directly in your clit, the throb of them intense. The forceful grinds with every other thrust presses the base of Steve’s cock tight against your clit, each one making you choke down a whimper. You’re shaking where you lay, nails digging encouragingly into the meat of Steve’s ass, legs spread wide, knees pressed back towards your shoulders. Steve has full access to you, as he deserves. The glide of him is sublime, the stretch of him enough to leave you panting, in and out, in and out.

Your pussy feels so good being used the way that it is. You can’t catch your breath.

You aren’t the least bit surprised when your orgasm tears through you.

“Oh shit, that’s yours, that’s Daddy’s. That pussy comes for Daddy, all for—”

“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna milk me fuckin’ dry. Haven’t even been inside’a you for a minute and you’re fallin’ apart.”

You openly sob, tears springing to your eyes as the sensitive walls of your pussy suck Steve in, flutter and pulse around his girth. He doesn’t stop, cock digging into that sweet spot inside of you, movement prolonging your orgasm as you groan. Your pussy is so wet you can feel it soaking the inside of your thighs, the base of Steve’s cock.

You have half the mind to note that your plan is working, that Steve is finding his footing again, that he’s confident and feeling dominant, in charge. You can’t hold back your lax smile, and the way Steve all but scoffs at the sight of it makes you turn your face and reach for his teeth with your jaw.

“Surely that’s not all you’ve got,” you hear yourself pant shakily, your voice and the way your limbs tremble betraying you in an instant. “Come on, big daddy— show ‘em why you’re the boss.”

He’s climbing onto the desk, still inside you, without a second thought.

“Yes, yes—”

“Un-fucking-believable…”

The smile that’s spread across your face is only present for a few seconds before you’re biting it away, Steve’s hands in your hair moving, one curling to scruff you by the nape of your neck. The other tears at your bra, impatiently ripping one cup down, your breast spilling out and into his waiting hand. He squeezes at you roughly, fingers smacking down tightly over your nipple.

Your head bounces with his thrusts, only to be pulled back by Steve’s hand on your nape. He uses you like a doll, like a toy. It all makes you want to scream: the new angle allowing for Steve to fuck messiliy into you, the complete physical dominance, the animalistic noises Steve continues to let out, how wet and wrecked you feel and sound. It’s enough for tears to begin to stream down your face.

Looking back, you’ll surely blame it on how startlingly emotional you became as he fucked you mercilessly, how unprepared you were for your body and mind’s reactions. You may blame it on how cockdrunk you are, how out of your mind the feeling of Steve dicking you down so thoroughly made you.

You raise your hand and bring it down hard across his cheek.

The crack of it is so shocking to you, both in sound and sensation on your palm, that you gasp raggedly. The moment seems to have called for it, such harsh treatment, but you hold your breath when Steve grunts, hips stilling, eyes wild when his head snaps back down to look at you.

When he doesn’t say anything, you whimper, your whimper easily turning into a hiccup, too nervous to speak.

He punches his hips forward, silencing you with the stretch of him, with feeling him up in your guts. You blink back your tears as you bite down onto your lip.

“Again,” he finally rasps out, the hand on your nape slipping around to the front of your throat, squeezing. “Fuckin’ hit me again, kitten.”

That’s it for the both of you.

Your opposite hand is up in the air and you do what you can to bring it down onto Steve’s other cheek with another sob, all while he fucks into you so roughly your body scrapes across his desk with every thrust. The smack is sloppy and only slightly makes contact with his jaw, but it’s enough to send the two of you hurtling towards your orgasms.

Yours is so blinding it almost hurts, the way it bursts from your center and outwards. You can’t make a noise, a scream lodged in your throat, body making a valiant attempt at arching up into Steve’s own, shaking. You lay there and take your climax, let Daddy rob it from your body, drink it up.

You know he’s coming by the way he squeezes your throat and bites out a gritty, “Fuck.”

“You better think twice about comin’ into my office and teasin’ me with your pussy again, little girl,” he pants into your ear, voice rougher than you’ve ever heard it to be, just able to cut through the fog in your mind. “Fuck, you wanna come up into my office tellin’ me you’re gonna go let somebody else have what’s mine?”

There’s not an ounce of fight left in you as your pussy continues to pulse and quiver around his cock, as you lay there splayed for him, taking his load.

“No, no! It’s Daddy’s, s’daddy’s pussy, all for Daddy. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m—”

You’re babbling nonsense, the roll of Steve’s hips not slowing, the stroke of his cock along your inner walls making you dizzy. Your voice has turned nasally, small and whiny, just like Daddy likes it. Steve’s hand trembles around your neck. You can feel his come leak out of you, how messy you feel as he continues to fuck into you, hips slowing but not halting like you’re used to.

“No,” he groans, shaking his head, his lips smearing messily against your cheek, your jaw. “You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for, baby. You know me so fuckin’ well, know just what your Daddy needs. You’re perfect, fuck, a perfect goddamn angel.”

Euphoria.

There’s nothing else he could have said that would make you feel the way you do now. You’re pushing overstimulation, thighs trembling around Steve’s waist, chest heaving as you’re left sucking air into your lungs. Your body and mind have been sent to hell and back and you didn’t realize how badly you wanted to hear Steve reassure you that this was okay, that everything you’ve done and said was acceptable.

You pull him down to you with another hitch in your breath, fingers slipping through his hair, arms winding around his neck.

He begins to litter your face with kisses once he finally does slow and eventually stops the slide of his cock, hissing, body settling down onto your own with a heaving sigh. The weight of him is hefty but welcomed, the reminder of his sturdiness something that you let settle into your bones.

“Don’t be sorry, kitten. I won’t allow it. Not after that.”

You hum.

“So bossy,” is all you murmur into his beard, your legs slipping down the backs of his own, holding him close.

“I’m pretty sure you were just tellin’ me to prove I was the boss, so…”

You merely harrumph in response; you’re done arguing for the day, possibly the week.

After a few blessed, silent moments of breathing and coming down from your shared high together, you begin to let a sense of accomplishment slip through your mind. You were brought in to help, to bring Steve out of his head and to improve his mood and therefore the mood of everyone else in his presence. You’ve made a difference, have helped your Daddy, were thoroughly dicked down in the process. And even though this was more emotionally heavy than you anticipated, you feel good.

“I’m sorry,” Steve eventually breaks the silence with, pulling his head back in order to look you in the eyes as he apologizes. He always has to look you in the eyes when you’re sharing serious words. Communication is something he values highly, your constant honesty with one another a must for him and in turn you. In his line of work, how he spends his days, he can’t risk the two of you not being on the same page.

He kisses your lips softly, his hands slipping through your hair.

“I’m sorry for not giving you the attention you deserved when you walked in here, baby.”

You shake your head. “I should have been more cognizant of your mood and how your day has gone. I’m sorry too.”

He kisses you again, once and then twice, lips soft and gentle with your own.

“What I’m not going to apologize for,” he whispers then, voice deep and mischievous, “is everything that led up to you smackin’ me.”

You giggle, first softly and then louder as Steve grips your chin and doesn’t let you shy away from his eye contact. He nips at your chin.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Where the hell did that come from?”

“I don’t know! I…it just felt right. I’m so—”

“Nope,” he cuts you off quickly, nose nudging your own. “No apologizing, I already said that. You’re perfect. I’m serious— this was just what I needed.”

You sigh into his next set of kisses, exhaustion slowly seeping into your bones.

“Well, you’ll have to thank Bucky for this later.”

“I will do no such thing.”

He slips from your body then, motioning for you to stay where you are and to not move. You don’t think you could sit up without help. He comes back from the adjacent bathroom looking everything provider and Alpha and Daddy, slacks buttoned and white shirt tucked into them. He cleans you off with a warm washcloth, puts the pieces of your sexy getup that are out of place back to where they belong. His hands linger on your thighs, stroking at the softness of your stockings.

He touches you with such gentleness and care. It’s so different from the touches he gave you just moments before, the ones you can feel growing sore already.

“I love you,” you find yourself whispering once he’s pulled you into a sitting position on his desk, taking a seat behind it in his chair. He pulls you easily to the edge, takes both of your hands into his own, brings them each to his lips.

“I love you as well, sweetheart,” he purrs, hands moving to grip at your hips, to pull at them like he does when he’s feeling ready for another round. Surely he isn’t, not after that. He leans forward, kisses the top of each of your breasts.

“I was rough on you wasn’t I, kitten? Gonna have to make it up to her later, get my mouth on her and give her kisses to—”

Bucky doesn’t even knock when he enters the office, walks right in as if it’s his own. He doesn’t care that you’re practically naked, that you’ve obviously been fucked to the edge of your life, that the two of your are surely flushed and marked enough to prove what you’ve just been spending your time doing. He walks right up to Steve’s desk, hands in his pockets, casual.

“You missed the show, Buck,” Steve grumbles, pulling you closer and gathering you into his lap, not wanting your near naked body to be seen by his right hand man. As if he hasn’t seen it before. Bucky whistles low, throws a wink over your way that you catch over your shoulder.

“Oh, no no no,” Bucky rumbles knowingly. “I don’t think anyone in this house missed that show…Daddy.”

#howdoyousleep kinktober 2022 #my writing #howdoyousleep #mafia daddy steve #mafia daddy steve and reader #put your loving hand out #female reader #reader insert #this one barely got posted lol #these beans y'all! time and attention suckers!#(i'm joking yet v serious)

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taevbears · 8 months

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Magic Shop - 10

As the only non-magical being in a shop full of mages and familiars, Seokjin is starting to feel left out.

⤑ pairing: OT7 x witch!reader, Seokjin focused ⤑ genre: magic au, romance, angst, hurt/comfort, found family, domestic/slice of life, action/adventure ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 11.1k ⤑ warnings: smut (penetrative), implied smut, verbal sexual harassment, mentions of attempted sexual assault, oppression of mages, implied shady business dealings, probable inaccuracies with 92 liners, mentions of violence ⤑ note: welcome back to pt. 2 of the series! it's finally fall, and it feels good to be writing for this story again, especially with spooky season around the corner. each member will have 2 chapters dedicated to them, making this part twice as long as pt. 1 lol. happy reading, and i'd love to hear your thoughts about this chapter!

Chapters: Series ML | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Dear Mother and Father,

Seokjin pauses as he stares at the line he just wrote. It looks too formal, even with his own eyes.

I’m sure the news about Blackstone Castle has already reached our village by now. You both must be very worried about me. But I’m writing to let you know that your youngest son is alive and well.

More than well, he thinks, as he looks at the morning crowd before him.

The kitchen is busy like it usually is at this time. Hoseok is roasting coffee beans over a magical fire, extracting sweet and nutty aromas that fill the room. Yoongi is standing next to him, frying eggs and bacon into a pan. The sizzle and pop of smoky meat against oil makes Seokjin’s mouth salivate in hunger. Namjoon and Jungkook are checking inventory together, making a list of what things they need to pick up on their next trip to the market.

“What’s wrong, hyung? You’re making a face,” Jungkook points out.

The mage is frowning down at the list and rubs his neck like he’s stressed. But he shakes his head and tells Jungkook, “I’m just wondering if we need this much saffron? What are we even using it for?”

“Yes! I need it!” Hoseok answers, poking his head up to look Namjoon in the eye. “It’s for my potions! Don’t forget it!”

“It’s so expensive,” Namjoon blanches. Seokjin can’t help but notice that he looks a bit stressed again as he continues reading down the list.

“Taehyung, don’t you dare!” you shriek, grabbing everyone’s attention as you back away from the raven familiar. “Your hands are still wet!”

A deep, evil chuckle rumbles from his chest as he slowly advances toward you. He holds up his hands, water dripping from washing dishes over the sink. “Darling, I just want a hug.”

“No!” you yell, ducking away when he tries to grab you.

Neither Yoongi nor Hoseok is phased as the two of you run past them. They simply step aside, using magic to levitate utensils and ingredients upward so that you don’t knock them over.

You run straight to Jungkook, who’d do anything for you in a heartbeat. The toad familiar has you in his arms for a few seconds, seeing you plead for his help like a damsel in distress. That gets him to puff up his chest, bravely putting himself between you and Taehyung.

Little do you know, an enemy is nearby. Namjoon, who likes to tease you as well, tosses the list aside and grabs a hold of you. “I got her, Taehyung!”

“Traitor! I’ll make you pay!” you vow, even though his dimpled smile easily melts your heart. Seokjin blinks at the discarded list on the ground.

“Don’t fight,” Hoseok warns as he finishes making his coffee. He pours the dark liquid into several mugs. “It’s too early in the morning to be threatening each other.”

Yoongi looks over at you all, checking to see if you’re okay. Jungkook yells and jumps back when Taehyung tries to wipe his wet hands on the front of his shirt. Distracted, the toad hybrid doesn’t see the raven hybrid shift and fly over his head until he lands back on his feet as a human right in front of you. And, like the menace he is, wipes his hands on both you and Namjoon.

“Taehyung, why can’t you use a towel to wipe your hands?” you complain as he cackles in laughter. Seokjin stands up from the table and picks up the list for inventory.

“You know how when a cat brushes up against you, it’s like saying ‘you’re mine’?” he asks you, throwing a wink when you catch on. Followed by Hoseok’s loud teasing as Yoongi suddenly avoids eye contact with you and states that breakfast is ready.

A typical, noisy morning at the shop.

Becoming a warden has its challenges. You have to be up at the crack of dawn. The food they serve us tastes bland. Routine shifts are mundane and unchanging. They have daily reminders from the Devoted about how mages are cruel and evil, and how the wardens are heroes by keeping them locked away. Some of the wardens let that get in their heads, and they end up not being very nice people. Then, you go to bed by curfew and do the same thing all over again. It’s quite the thrilling life.

Seokjin scoffs.

In hindsight, his duties as a warden all sound like bullshit. The lies that the Devoted feed about mages and magic are far from the truth.

“That’s hardly fair.”

“Maybe you should’ve gone with a different color.”

“I bet he’ll look good no matter what color we pick.”

The three mages of the shop – you, Namjoon, and Hoseok – are baffled and scratching your heads. In an act of revenge for the chaos this morning, the three of you decided to team up and change Taehyung’s hair.

Into a vibrant blue.

The raven familiar smirks at his reflection on the mirror and looks at you three. “Don’t I look good like this, though?”

In seconds, the three of you huddle together for a new game plan. Hoseok is the first to point out, “I don’t think this is going to work, guys. He’s too handsome.”

Namjoon nods his head in agreement. “Yeah, he’s like Jin-hyung.”

“Me?” Seokjin asks, somehow finding himself included in the huddle.

“I could turn your hair baby pink and you’ll still be the most handsome person in the world,” you tell him, quite serious in light of the gravity of your situation. You don’t seem to notice the redness in Seokjin’s ears from your compliment.

The three of you – talented and skilled with magic – are deemed as threats, even if you’d never use your magic for evil. Hoseok is a potion master who brews concoctions in coffees and teas that add a bit of hope in each cup. Namjoon, who studies the history of the arcane arts and runes, uses that knowledge to write and collect interesting trinkets to decorate the shop. And you, the spell caster, who could incantate charms and hexes effortlessly, only use your abilities to protect the shop, help the people you care about, and occasionally turn one of their hairs into a color of the rainbow.

The Devoted has warned that mages like you bewitch mortals to do your will, host bloody sacrifices, shed the lives of innocents, and commit cardinal sins with demons in exchange for power.

These days, however, the three of you use magic to prank each other or one of the familiars.

“Guess you’ll have to come up with something else.” Taehyung shrugs, suddenly next to you in the circle, catching you all off guard.

I’ve managed to survive the mage rebellion with just a scratch. You raised a pro after all. An apprentice got a hold of a summoning book. He convinced others to form a mutiny, and it backfired badly. He became a monster, burdening all the pains and sorrows that he and the others have carried. That night was the scariest night of my life. I still have nightmares about it.

Seokjin stares at his reflection in the mirror. It’s been several months since the night you all fled from Blackstone Castle together, but the ugly scar on his torso is a fresh reminder of what had happened.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper every time you see it. “I should’ve gotten to you sooner.”

“You saved me just in time,” Seokjin assures you, trying not to shiver when he feels your fingers carefully trace the textured skin. It’s not as bad as before, but it’s still there. It’s still visible.

As the day comes to an end, you always check on each of them. The vibrant blue fades from Taehyung’s hair and you apologize. He says he’ll forgive you if you kiss him, and he’s reluctant to let you go when you do. All day, Yoongi seems avoidant, trying not to brush up against you, probably because of what Taehyung said that morning. But you assure him that you don’t mind, wrapping your arms around him yourself as he seems to ease into your touch. You check with the others too, though you’re always adamant to check on Seokjin.

And Seokjin knows why. Even if you never tell him.

You’re frowning, fixated on the scar. No amount of healing magic that you know could make it go away completely.

He glances at you and then back at the mirror. “I suppose this makes me a little less handsome, doesn’t it?”

“Of course not.”

Since the castle is no longer standing, I’ve moved into a nearby town. I spend my days happily now. No rules or duties to be obliged to. No pressure to conform to beliefs I don’t agree with. I’m only human. I’m lacking in a lot of ways that my housemates aren’t, but I found a family here, and it just keeps growing.

“Ow, ow, ow,” you cry mournfully, sticking out your aching tongue, and set a cup of hot tea on the coffee table. “I think I burned myself.”

Jimin turns to you with a sympathetic smile, but there’s a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Want me to kiss it better?”

He bursts into laughter when he receives his answer through a playful smack.

Your neighbor across the street comes more often these days, welcomed into the shop like another member of the coven. Except, when he’s around, the magic is hidden. No spellcasting, no shifting between forms, no sudden changes of hair colors.

To Jimin, you’re probably all just ordinary people who live together and work together in an inconspicuous, unassuming shop. And perhaps, the only strangest thing is your relationship with each of them.

Seokjin has to admit, even if he knows that relationships for mages differ from what is traditional by the Devoted, it takes time to get used to. He’s only gone as far as kissing you, but some of the others, including Jimin, have gone much further with you.

It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it. He just hasn’t found the right time to bring it up to you. Or the right place.

Seokjin eyes the way Jimin casually has his arm around the back of the couch behind you. He doesn’t seem put off when Hoseok comes to sit on your other side, holding his own cup of hot tea in his hands, practically making heart-eyes at you when you turn to talk to him. Or that any of the other residents are lingering in the parlor nearby, with Yoongi and Jungkook sitting on the small bench in front of the piano and playing a random melody, Taehyung taking a seat next to Jimin as he plays a board game with Namjoon, or Seokjin still trying to write a letter to his parents.

In fact, Jimin takes the whole polyamorous aspect of his relationship with you better than most people who’ve been raised by the Devoted teachings would.

Seokjin looks around the room and smiles softly to himself. With the eight of you all together, a full house just hanging out, it feels complete. He can tell that the other residents feel that way too with how at ease they are with Jimin around, despite him not knowing the truths about what you guys really are.

As the only other human in a room full of mages and familiars, Seokjin wonders if Jimin feels that sense of belonging too. And how he’ll react once he knows the truth.

There’s also this girl I met since I left home. She’s smart, brave, beautiful, and diligent. I think you guys would like her a lot. I feel like I fall in love with her more each day.

“What are you writing?”

Seokjin jumps and hunches over his paper, nearly spilling ink all over. Just as he’s started writing about you, you appear beside him. “A letter.”

“Oh? You have a secret lover I should be worried about?” you tease, placing your hand on your hip for emphasis.

“Well, you know,” he plays along. “Worldwide handsome, and all.”

“Of course. How could I forget?” Affectionately, you run your fingers through his bangs, exposing his forehead. His hair has been growing longer. At the castle, they routinely had to keep it short and clean. But now, after several months of no haircut, he may have to make use of the kitchen scissors and the bathroom mirror. “How did I get so lucky to have someone as handsome as you, Seokjin?”

“I’m the lucky one,” he replies, grinning at the shy smile you give him. “I’m actually trying to write to my parents. Let them know that I’m alive and doing well. With the way word spreads around, I’m sure they know about … you know.”

“Yeah,” you trail off with a small grimace. The fall of Blackstone Castle has also brought in many hunters into the nearby towns. It’s a constant worry for all of you that they might stumble into the shop one day, even if it’s located in the quieter side of town.

Seokjin tries to change the topic. “I’d love to introduce you to them. My family, I mean.”

“Would they like me?”

“Of course they will. They’ll probably ask when I’ll—” He cuts himself off.

“Ask you what?”

“They’ll probably ask when I’ll marry you.”

“Oh.”

Marriage is a sacred commitment to the Devoted. For mages, however, such a union simply doesn’t exist. They have their partners; they have their coven. But when magic is deemed evil, and those who wield it are treated as vermin, love in any form would be shunned and discouraged.

Seokjin sees the guilt flicker in your eyes. The way you nervously chew on your bottom lip, trying to carefully place your next words.

Truth is, Seokjin could walk out anytime he wanted. From you, from the shop. He’s not a warden anymore. He doesn’t have any ties or duties keeping him with you. He could find another partner, someone he could legally marry, and start a normal family. It’s safer if he would. But it’s foolish if he did.

“You know that stuff doesn’t matter to me, right?” he asks you seriously. “You're my partner. The others are our family. I wouldn’t change it any other way.”

“If you ever change your mind…”

“I won’t. I promise.” He’s so certain, he holds his pinky toward you. Perhaps it’s a bit silly and childish, but it gives you the assurance you need. “I love you. I’ll always choose you. Nothing will ever change that.”

You smile softly and wrap your pinky around his finger. You return the sentiment in whispered words as he brings your hand closer to his and kisses your knuckles.

She’s everything to me. I wish you could meet her one day and see it for yourself.

Mornings are Seokjin’s favorite time of the day.

Usually.

He’s not a big fan of a neighbor’s rooster and its insistent crowing at 3:00AM. On the dot. Every single morning. He’s even less of a fan when, only a couple hours later, just as dawn is beginning to break, Seokjin hears it again at 5:00AM. Screaming at the top of its lungs over a slither of sunlight in the sky. And by 7:00AM, when it cries out the third time, it takes every fiber in Seokjin’s being not to stomp over, grab the rooster, and toss it in the air out of spite.

He also dislikes having to actually leave the safe and warm sanctuary of his bed. Where he’s cozy and comfortable beneath his thick blanket, and the mattress and pillows feel like he’s on a cloud. Where his favorite, long pajamas feel soft against his skin. But with a long list of tasks ahead of him, he reluctantly and mournfully pushes away the covers, shivers as the cold morning air sucks away the warmth, and begins to dress up for the day.

Otherwise, it wouldn’t be long until he hears the small creak of someone entering his bedroom. The breathy chuckles that escape his lips as he tries to hold back his giggles. Followed by the unmistakable whisper of, “Jin.”

“No, Hoseok, you can’t.”

And Hoseok would burst into loud laughter, hitting the lump that’s Seokjin beneath his covers, and ask, “Oh, hyung! How did you know it was me?”

Despite how he actually wakes up that day, mornings are relatively peaceful. Most of the residents are still asleep, and sometimes, he can hear Namjoon or Jungkook still snoring from their rooms. Candles automatically light up down the hallway of mixed doors, guiding him down the stairs and to the kitchen.

And that’s where you are, bright and early.

Or rather, these days, as Yoongi had quietly confided in him, because you haven’t been sleeping well. Nightmares, the black cat had explained.

“Hey, morning,” Seokjin greets you as you rummage around the kitchen, pulling out jars and pans as if it’ll inspire you to cook.

“Morning, Jin. What do you want for breakfast?” When you turn to him, he can see the tiredness in your face. Your eyes are a bit red, your posture more sluggish.

“I can do it,” he assures you, taking a pan from your hand before you drop it. You let him and instead, use your free hand to cover a big yawn. Even when you’re on the brink of passing out, Seokjin finds you cute. “Did you sleep last night?”

“Barely.”

“Because of that damn rooster?”

“Yeah,” you lie. Seokjin knows you don’t want to talk about the nightmares you’ve been having. Not even to Yoongi or Hoseok.

But Seokjin sees the way you look at him. The relief that crosses your face when you see him, the guilt that follows after when your eyes trail to where his scar is. There’s an apology in your tongue, but before it could escape your lips, he jokes, “Maybe we should have that rooster for breakfast.”

“I don’t think our neighbor would like that,” you point out with a small smile.

He returns your smile as he decides to make eggs and bread. But his smile fades when he notices that there’s less ingredients in stock than usual, even though Namjoon and Jungkook had just gone to the market yesterday. Did they not get enough?

“Our finances are low,” Namjoon reveals when Seokjin asks him about the lack of ingredients later that afternoon. As mages, it’s easier to get by, and the shop has always been more of a home than a business. But coin is still needed to buy fresh ingredients, to maintain amenities, and to keep the shop running.

Namjoon looks stressed. The human world and its standards are still new concepts to you and Hoseok, and Seokjin can tell that Namjoon doesn’t want either of you to worry. He’ll buy fewer eggs if he can get Hoseok his saffron. He’ll get cheaper quality meat, even if Jungkook complains that he can’t fork it. He’ll pick tangerines and strawberries himself if that’ll make Yoongi and Taehyung happy. He’ll pass up on a book or rune that he wants so he can get you something nice instead.

Seokjin glances over at you. You’re finally asleep, resting on the couch with Hoseok. One of his arms is protectively around your waist as he rubs soothing circles down your back and shoulders. Taehyung comes to put a blanket over you, and he’s careful not to wake you as he gently pats your head.

Clearly, you have a lot of things on your mind lately.

“Hyung will do it,” Seokjin assures him, even if he doesn’t really know how. He’s only human. But he’ll find a way.

Seokjin knows you’re home when Yoongi, who’s been napping all afternoon, suddenly springs to life and meows impatiently at the door. It’s as if he’s saved up all his energy just to be the first to greet you hello when you step in.

Followed by the pattering of feet as Taehyung exclaims, “You’re home!”

And by the time Seokjin gets to you, you’re sandwiched between the two youngest and carrying Yoongi in your arms.

“Guys, let her breathe,” Namjoon lightly scolds Taehyung and Jungkook. As if the others aren’t also coming to the door to welcome you home like a bunch of puppies.

Seokjin manages to slip by your side as you take off your shoes. “How’s my favorite mage? Did you have fun with Jimin?”

“I had a good time. It was busy at the town square,” you inform him, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek. His mouth twitches back a shy smile and a blush. “Jimin said a lot of guilds are open for new members at this time. So, there are a lot of recruiters trying to get people to sign up.”

“Ah, that’s what happened to me!” Jungkook pipes up, nostalgia of his former days as an adventurer flashing through his mind. “In my town, there’s a big bulletin board that people put fliers on when they need help. I used it to pick up odd jobs here and there, like taking care of a rat infestation or delivering a package to someone in another town. And one day, I saw a poster for a guild fair. I went, did some research by talking to people, and ended up joining one.”

“You could probably join one of the ones here, too,” Yoongi says after jumping out of your arms and shifting to his human form. His black hair is a bit messy from sleeping all afternoon.

“I want to so badly! But sometimes, missions could take days to complete, and I don’t know if I can hold this form for that long without changing.”

Jungkook sighs. For a recently-turned familiar, he’s making great progress controlling his transformations. But it wouldn’t do his party any good if he were to turn back into a toad mid-battle.

“Maybe once we turn you human again, you can,” Namjoon suggests, patting his head with sympathy, as if it’ll be easy. As if there isn’t a powerful, Wicked ex-girlfriend trying to hunt Jungkook down.

Jungkook pouts but nods his head. “The guilds are nice, and New Haven is the perfect town for them. It’s a good way to earn coins, make new friends, go on adventures, strengthen your skills, and get useful information.”

“Coins?” Seokjin repeats. He doesn’t hear a single word after.

“Yeah. If you’re good, a lot of guilds give you big bonuses after a mission.”

“Coins,” Seokjin echoes, suddenly turning away from you, lost in thought.

You stare after him, mildly concerned. “Jin?”

It is, perhaps, a mere coincidence that Seokjin finds himself at the town square the very next day.

Colorful tents are lined up around the plaza. Recruiters are shouting in the streets and handing out fliers to whoever passes by their booths. Some members are putting on a show, displaying trophies of their latest hunts, dueling against each other with shiny new swords and shiny new armor, and waving their flags around as they boldly claim their guild is the best. Even people from out of town are gathered to check out the festivities. Every brave, adventure-seeking soul is hoping to find their place in one of the many guilds here.

“Hey, you’re strong and handsome,” the fourth recruiter of the day stops him. “Want to join our guild?”

“What do you guys do? And do you make a lot of coins?” Seokjin asks, a bit curious.

“Oh, of course! We do lots of stuff! We explore caves and old ruins to look for hidden treasures, slay large beasts that trouble the local folks, visit ports to trade goods with foreign investors, hunt mages— Hey, where are you going?”

Seokjin immediately loses interest and walks away. He sighs, wondering if there’s even a guild out there that doesn’t list mages as monsters.

“Let’s just go one more round,” Seokjin mutters to himself. If he doesn’t find anything good, he can always think of something else.

He tries to stop by each one, listening to their criteria and what they’re looking for in a new member, and asking what they do and how much they make. But the moment they mention hunting down mages, he quickly moves to the next table. He almost wants to just ask that one question – whether or not they hunt mages – but he isn’t sure how to bring it up without warranting suspicions.

“Hey there, handsome. Are you interested in joining our guild?” a female recruiter asks. She’s thin and pretty, and when she smiles, her front teeth poke out a bit like a bunny. She has the kind of smile that reminds him of Jungkook. “We still have a few spots open if you are.”

Seokjin tries not to sound jaded as he smiles back at her. “What do you do?”

“The typical stuff most guilds do,” she begins to explain, but is suddenly interrupted by a commotion near the booth.

“Have you gone mad?!” a man shouts, seeming to be talking to another recruiter. “Mages will kill us if we let them! What is this nonsense about allowing the likes of them into the Freelancers?”

“Are mages not human as well?” a young, charismatic man replies, seeming to stand firm with his stance. “They have unique abilities that could take us further in our adventures than we could ever imagine. Think about it! If someone in our party is injured, we could rely on magic instead of using up precious medical supplies. They could clear obstacles in forests and tunnels to complete the mission faster. We could defeat savage beasts more easily and efficiently with their aid!”

“Lies! That goes against everything the Devoted teaches” a woman accuses as the crowd around them murmur.

“Who is that?” Seokjin asks as people continue to argue with the man. But he and a couple others flanking his side have a rebuttal for each statement. It only riles the crowd up even more.

“His name is Tariq,” the female recruiter answers with a laugh. “You must be out of town. He’s infamous around New Haven.”

“I can see that,” he replies as he watches the debate. He’s half-surprised no one has accused him of being a mage-sympathizer yet.

“Tariq can be intense, but he’s the greatest strategist and fighter in New Haven,” she explains as if she’s read his mind. “His values don’t always align with the Devoted, but even the town leaders can’t deny how much they rely on him to protect the town. He’s cultivated his own following within the guilds too. Lots of people support and admire him, no matter how crazy his ideas can be.”

Just then, another man breaks through the crowd and grabs a hold of Tariq’s arm. “Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize on behalf of the Freelancers, but this debate is now over. Tariq will take some time to reflect on the concerns brought up today.”

“And that’s Adnan, his older brother,” she continues, nodding to the new guy that has pulled Tariq aside to scold him. “He’s the leader of the Freelancers, but the two of them couldn’t be any more different.”

“What are the Freelancers?” Seokjin asks, finally looking away from the two now that the crowd has begun to die down.

“That’s us,” she replies with a nervous laugh. “We’re a bit controversial, as you can see, but we firmly believe that anyone – even magic or not – will find a place in our guild.”

Seokjin nods his head and considers what she’s told him. He only has one question left. “Where do I sign up?”

In their glory days, the Freelancers were a powerful and ruthless mercenary group.

They were unlawful. A guild that got their start from handling odd jobs that couldn’t go through legal and official channels, and taking up difficult quests that other guilds didn’t find worth the effort to do themselves. Eventually, they became notorious for engaging in shady, cutthroat contracts such as back-door dealings and accepting secret fundings from nobility without honor or integrity.

With enough coin, there was no job that the Freelancers refused to take.

Recently, under the leadership of Adnan and Tariq’s great-grandfather, the Freelancers have more peaceful, quasi-honorable practices. His goal was to eradicate the guild’s notoriety and build a new legacy. In the eyes of the public, the Freelancers have now become the biggest and most reliable organization for quests and missions.

It’s a reputation that their father has upheld as well, accepting most people who were willing to join: men and women, nonbinary, wealthy nobles and poor peasants, skilled warriors with years of practice and those just looking to gain experience. However, as his reign comes to an end, the guild looks to his two sons for guidance.

Adnan, the oldest, plans to retain the current honorable methods that his family has instilled and follow the footsteps of their legacy. Accepting those willing to join their noble cause, offering new opportunities to their members to make extra coin, and taking righteous paths as instructed by the Devoted to thwart out evil from the town.

But Tariq, the younger and more charismatic brother, is ambitious and wants the guild to take on a more profitable, but shadier nature. It doesn’t matter to him if those who join are mages, demons, or monsters either, as long they’re on his side. Just as they did in their glory days before his great-grandfather.

Discourse between the two brothers and their sizable followings have been brewing within the guild. It’s a tension that’s been there long before Seokjin joins.

And it won’t be long until a clash of interest threatens the entirety of the Freelancers.

“Hyung, you joined a guild?” Jungkook exclaims, hopping after with excitement. “I’m so jealous! Which one is it?”

“They’re called the Freelancers,” Seokjin answers, showing the flier he received with the date and location of his first official meeting with them. “They’re the biggest guild in New Haven.”

Hoseok whistles. “That’s impressive! Congrats, Jin!”

“Hopefully this brings in more coins for us, too,” Seokjin adds as he looks at Namjoon. The recruiter told him they tend to get more quests than other guilds, especially with how famous the two brothers are. More quests mean more opportunity for coins.

Namjoon frowns a little. “Hyung, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” Seokjin assures him. “I want to be more useful to you guys and the shop. I think this is the best way I can do it.”

After all, Seokjin isn’t gifted with magic. He doesn’t have any affinity to the Veil or its mysterious realm. Seokjin is only human. But he’s a human who knows how to fight and take care of himself in battle.

“Wouldn’t that mean you won’t be home?” Yoongi asks him. A silence follows as the rest of you wait for his answer.

“Maybe from time to time. They’ll have me do local missions first before they send me off somewhere far,” Seokjin explains, sensing the uneasiness of that idea. “I’ll let you guys know when they do before I take the quest.”

“What about the shop?” Namjoon questions.

“I can do tasks for the guild in the morning, and help at the shop at night,” Seokjin decides, already putting that in consideration when he went to the fair. “That’s usually when the tavern is the busiest.”

“Wouldn’t you be tired?” Taehyung wonders out loud.

“I’ll do my best for both. Don’t worry.” Seokjin knows he’ll have a team to carry out missions with at the guild, and a family to rely on when he returns home. He turns to you, noting your silence. Gently, he takes your hand in his and presses, “Talk to me, sweetheart. What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” you tell him, frowning as your gaze lingers down to his torso. To where his scar is. “What if something happens to you while you’re away? What if I can protect you?”

“I’ll be careful,” he assures you, pulling you into a hug. He understands your feelings. Truly, he does. But Seokjin has always been a dutiful and honorable man. And helping relieve some of the financial burdens from Namjoon is the least he could do. “Once my mission is over, you’ll be the first I run back to. Promise.”

Before he became a warden, Seokjin was a promising recruit. He’s self-disciplined, admirably hard-working, and spent extra time honing his skills to push himself a little further than his peers. While new recruits rested from their rigorous training, he’d be up a few hours earlier to practice with his word, to study how to disarm enemies, and to strengthen his mental fortitude.

It’s an attitude and passion that he’s carried as a new recruit to the Freelancers.

“Are you sure this is your first time joining a guild?” his mentor, Junghwan, asks him. He’s also fairly new to the guild, joining only six months prior to Seokjin. He’s been tasked to take him and the other new recruits on their first mission.

Bandits were blocking the main road into town and were scamming weary travelers of their coin.

Seokjin was able to coerce them off the road and to return the stolen coins. But when the bandits later came to ambush their group, his parrying skills in battle sent them away for good.

“It’s pretty fun,” Seokjin admits with a bashful smile. He feels good about his first small victory. And feels even better when the clerk at their guild pays him his reward.

Coins clatter on the counter as Seokjin dumps out his earnings for the week. “It’s not much now, but imagine how much more I can make if I take up more missions.”

“Wow, hyung…” Namjoon trails off, staring at the small pile. It’s enough to bring home the entire list of what everyone wanted, expensive saffron and all. “This would really help us out a lot.”

Seokjin smiles. “I think I could be really good at this.”

He hasn’t been in the guild for very long, but it’s everything he had hoped to have when he was a warden. That feeling of brotherhood among the members, from the throes of battle to the clinking mugs of cold ale. The small victories that lead to praise and coins. An outlet to constantly improve himself, make himself stronger, faster, and a better protector for you and the others.

“Joon, we’re out of eggs again,” you inform him, coming out of the kitchen to where they are. You’re about to ask if he can run to the market and get some more when you notice the shiny coins on the counter.

Seokjin smiles warmly at you. “I’ll buy you as many eggs as you want, beautiful.”

It isn’t long until Seokjin takes up more missions: investigate a caravan that was ambushed and report back with the news, explore a nearby cave and eradicate the giant spiders dwelling inside, find a specific blue flower that grows on the hillside of the woods and bring it to the requester. He climbs higher in ranks within the guild, already surpassing the initiates that joined when he had. Members of the Freelancers begin to take notice as well.

“What’s your name, son?” Adnan asks him at the guild’s mess hall, eyeing the young man before him.

“It’s Seokjin, sir.”

“Seokjin, huh.” He repeats his name and gives him an approving pat on the shoulder. “Keep up the good work, Seokjin.”

He feels his chest swell with pride. Receiving acknowledgement from the leader of the guild, especially one as big as the Freelancers, feels like a big deal.

“Hey, new guy, come sit with us!” a female member named Heeyeon calls out to him. Around them, other tables are discussing strategies, refueling on food and drinks, and sharing stories about their latest missions. Seokjin rarely stays at the guild’s base long enough to eat, usually running back to the shop as soon as a mission is complete. But he sees his mentor, Junghwan, sitting next to her, as well as the female recruiter that had signed him up. “I don’t know if you met everyone yet, but this is Byulyi, Sunwoo, Junghwan, and Jaehwan.”

Byulyi smiles when she recognizes him. “Hi Seokjin! Long time, no see. How do you like the Freelancers?”

“With the way he’s going, he’ll probably outrank his mentor in a month,” Sunwoo teases, elbowing Junghwan on the ribs. The two of them, Junghwan had mentioned, have come from the same hometown before they settled in New Haven.

“I’d believe that,” Jaehwan agrees, pointing out how he saw Adnan talking to him. He raises a glass to Seokjin with a bright smile. “I hope we can do missions together. It’s better when you’re with a team than by yourself.”

Seokjin returns the smile with a shy one of his own. “I think I’d like that.”

Jaehwan isn’t wrong. Turns out, picking up missions as a group is easier than doing them alone. There’s safety in numbers, and the variety of skills within the group work seamlessly on and off the field. Plus, it’s more fun with other people. A lot more fun.

Especially in a group as charming, good-looking, and funny as they are.

Team Kim Seokjin, as they have started to call themselves. Because after Seokjin joined their party, they’ve yet to fail a mission they’ve taken on.

By the time Seokjin arrives at the base in the morning, Byulyi already has a few quests lined up for them. She has a knack of finding ones that have a big payout, and once all members of their party arrive at the guild, they decide which ones they want to tackle for the day.

Sometimes, they’re easy tasks like reconnaissance, finding specific ingredients in the woods, or helping elderly townsfolk with hard labor. Other times, they’re more difficult like detaining a pick-pocketer from the marketplace, fighting off a dangerous wild cat from entering New Haven, or protecting goods from bandits while it’s being delivered to the next town.

Junghwan and Jaehwan instantly click with Seokjin. Between witty one-liners and endless puns, the three become fast friends. Seokjin can’t remember the last time he’s laughed so hard while on a job. Even Heeyeon, who is a little shy at first, warms up to him and shows her sillier side.

By the end of the day, it’s Sunwoo who turns in the mission reports to the pretty clerk he has a crush on. All of them work hard, deserving of the rewards they collect, and they divide the earnings of the day evenly between the six of them.

“Man, what a day.” Junghwan sighs, massaging his shoulder after another successful mission.

“I’m starving,” Byulyi states as she rubs her stomach. “Should we get something to eat before we head to the base?”

“That sounds good to me,” Jaehwan agrees, turning to face Seokjin. “Are you coming with us, Seokjin?”

“I can’t,” Seokjin replies with an apologetic smile. It’s getting late and you might need help at the shop. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“You always have somewhere to go,” Junghwan pouts, a bit disappointed that his new friend could never hang out after completing a mission. Most people in their guild like to celebrate their small victories by grabbing a drink and eating dinner together.

It isn’t like Seokjin doesn’t want to. He’s sure it’ll be fun, and he knows he’d have a great time with them.

But he has a promise to keep.

With a quick exchange of goodbyes and no hard feelings of missing out on another dinner with the group, Seokjin runs back to the shop. His legs are burning from being on his feet all day. He’s dirty and sweaty from the various tasks he’s been assigned for the day. But as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, coloring the sky in twilight, he nears the shop and sees you.

Occasionally, you’d be there to greet him in front of the shop. Sometimes, with a cup of tea and a book as one of the familiars sit on your lap or shoulder. Sometimes, you’re talking to Jimin as he waters the flowers sitting outside his shop. Or sometimes, like today, it’s just you.

The golden glow basks upon your skin as you sit on the porch steps, and all Seokjin can think about is how beautiful you look. No matter how difficult the mission is or how exhausted he feels, he remembers that he’s doing it for you.

When you notice him, a bright smile lights up on your face. “Jin! You’re back!”

And Seokjin feels himself falling in love with you all over again, laughing as he gathers you in his arms after a long day. “I’m home.”

Word about Team Seokjin and their success rate is spread around the Freelancers, and in no time, they become one of the most promising groups in the guild. Every mission they take on, they’ve completed and earned high praise from those they helped. Some clients even come back and specifically request them for another job.

Inevitably, this attracts the attention of Adnan and Tariq. Separately, the brothers have approached the group with special jobs.

Adnan’s requests seem to fall in line with the Devoted’s charity work. Manpower to help at fundraising events, collecting donations of supplies and coins around town, finding a missing child from the town’s orphanage. Things that would normally make him feel good, if it weren’t for the magical hearsay they spew out at every event.

It's the opposite of the “no questions asked” missions that Tariq gives them. Delivering inconspicuous scrolls to certain individuals, dropping off packages at the back of bars and alleyway businesses, bringing in traitors who’ve gone rogue for Tariq’s men to deal with. No one in Team Seokjin wants bad blood in their hands, but with the reputation that Tariq has, it’s certain that he’s bound to have many enemies as well.

If they’re lucky, they can leave for a mission before either brother gives them one. They become increasingly more difficult and take up more time in his day, but all of them prefer choosing their adventures than to be stuck doing one of the brother’s favors.

And as always, after his missions, Seokjin goes straight home.

He’s dead on his feet as he changes clothes and throws on an apron, cooking at the busy tavern for the rest of the night. Yoongi has been helping him a lot too, taking over the kitchen when Seokjin isn’t there, and making sure that he isn’t burning anything or falling asleep when he is. Namjoon tries to talk him out of helping at the shop, worried that he’s pushing himself too hard, but Seokjin refuses to listen. Even Taehyung tries to block his path to the tavern and send him to bed instead.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Seokjin says as soon as he gets to the door.

It’s another one of those days. A mission retrieving an old woman’s cat had Team Seokjin running around the entire town all day. After several close calls of getting his handsome face and long arms scratched, climbing up trees and rooftops, and losing sight of the little menace, the cat eventually went back on its own. The old lady gave them each an extra coin to show her appreciation.

There are a handful of customers in the shop: a small group of women that have been frequenting the parlor room to see the two youngest sing and play music, a couple guys that seem to be catching up and sharing drinks by the bar, and a few groups eating supper at the tables.

Jimin is there too, as he always is these days, clearly flirting with you while you’re trying to work. Your bashful smile at Jimin changes to one of delight when you finally see Seokjin. “You’re home! Welcome back!”

“Sorry, I got held up,” he explains when he gets to you, kissing your cheek.

“It’s okay. We got things covered,” you assure him, pulling up a chair in front of Jimin. “Just rest up. I’ll get you something to drink.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He sinks into the chair with a sigh of relief. “Thank you. You’re an angel. I love you.”

Seokjin completely misses the surprised look you give him at his last words. Ones that nearly have you bumping into another table before you head to Hoseok’s bar. But Jimin catches it, looking between you and Seokjin with intrigue.

“How are things at the Freelancers?” Jimin starts, propping his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his knuckles.

“They’re good. It keeps me busy,” Seokjin tells him, still leaning back on his chair and keeping his eyes closed. He could fall asleep like this if he wanted to. “It makes good coin, too. If I can save up enough, maybe I can take us on a trip to my hometown.”

“Your hometown?”

“Yeah, it’s a small fishing village.” He opens his eyes and stares up at the ceiling, thinking about the letter he tried to write to his parents. Seokjin left home to become a warden, since that was what was expected of him. Despite how terrified he was of mages at the time, he worked hard on his training, only to feel miserable and out of place within the brotherhood. His friends are now people he once thought were the enemies, and he’s fallen in love with a girl he swore would turn him into a toad one day. “I’ve always wanted to take her there. Show her the pier where all the boats dock and the sea lions sunbathe, take them all to the beach and see the ocean, go fishing, maybe introduce her to my parents.”

Sometimes, he misses the salty breeze, the sound of waves crashing against each other, the gentle rocking of the boat on water, and the thrill of getting something caught in his line and pulling the fishing rod to see what it is. Sometimes, he misses the taste of his mother’s home-cooking, spending time with his father, and getting in trouble with his older brother. Sometimes, he misses home.

“That sounds nice,” Jimin replies, snapping Seokjin out of his thoughts. He sits up, almost forgetting that the florist was sitting across from him.

Honestly, he doesn’t know Jimin that well. He’s good company, sure. You clearly love him, just as much as you love the others. Hoseok and Taehyung seem to believe that he’ll be a significant person to all of you. And Jimin seems like a decent guy. He treats you well, he’s friendly with the rest of them. Just like Seokjin, he’s just trying to find his place in the dynamic between you and the others in the shop.

Because Jimin, like him, is only human.

Perhaps that’s why Seokjin offers, “You want to come with us?”

Jimin raises an eyebrow. “Me?”

“Yeah, why not? It’ll be fun to go together,” Seokjin replies with a tiny shrug. He knows you’ll be happy to have Jimin come along too.

Jimin is a bit quiet. Then, softly, and perhaps still a bit perplexed, he asks, “You really want me to?”

Before Seokjin could answer, you finally return with a couple cold beers: one for him and one for Jimin. “Sorry for the wait. Hoseok and I were talking, and Yoongi needs my help in the back. I’ll catch up with you guys later, yeah?”

“Sure, love.” Jimin reaches over to squeeze your arm reassuringly. He promises to say goodbye to you before he heads back to his shop.

“Thanks, angel,” Seokjin says with a gentle smile. One that becomes fonder as you brush his hair back and place a quick kiss on his temple.

Though, the action doesn’t go unnoticed. One table over is a group of three men on their fourth round of ale that night. As you pass by, one of them shouts, “Hey, lady, where’s my kiss?”

Mocking laughter follows as the man puckers his lips when you turn to them, confused and taken aback. And in a brief moment, you have that same, terrified look.

Suddenly, Seokjin is back to that night. At Blackstone Castle. Heading to his quarters after another unsuccessful Harrowing, catching three of his fellow wardens cornering you in a dimly-lit hall. The tremble in your voice when they interrogate you with invasive questions, how they disable you from fighting back, tugging on the clothes they’ve ripped.

Without thinking, Seokjin stands up. His hand automatically grips the hilt of his sword. All he sees is red.

At the same time, Jimin is on his feet too. For a second, Seokjin thinks Jimin is trying to hold him back, but his eyes are glaring right at the men cat-calling you. He’s holding the edge of the table so hard, his knuckles are beginning to whiten.

Before either of them could make a move, Hoseok steps away from the bar and quietly urges you to go to the back. That he’ll handle things at the front. He gives a pointed glance at both Seokjin and Jimin, wordlessly telling them to sit back down before they make things worse.

“Shit,” Jimin curses softly, letting go of the table and sliding back down on his seat. He rubs his face, a bit distressed. “Not again.”

Seokjin follows and frowns. “Has this happened before?”

“Just once, as far as I’m aware of,” Jimin reveals with an annoyed sigh, still angry about what happened. “Some asshole tried to touch her while she was cleaning a table. Jungkook saw and punched him, but it got messy. Namjoon ended up throwing that guy out.”

His frown deepens. “They didn’t tell me about this.”

“You were on a quest. What could you have done?”

“I’m going to take the day off tomorrow,” Seokjin informs you. He watches from the doorway as you apply a night cream on your face.

“As much as I’d love that, you don’t need to do that for me, Jin,” you tell him. “I know the guild is important to you.”

“You’re more important.”

You turn to face him. “Jin.”

“I miss you.” He means it. The mornings when the two of you would wake up and make breakfast together has almost become a distant memory.

The way you look at him then has his heart yearning. “I miss you, too.”

And it isn’t long before he closes the distance between you two, lips on yours in a kiss he can’t recall who started, wanting to make up for the time he lost.

Heeyeon eyes the bite-sized bruises on his neck. “There’s a meeting today.”

“I’m aware,” Seokjin replies, pretending that he doesn’t notice what she’s looking at.

It isn’t going too well. Especially with the way Jaehwan and Sunwoo are wagging their eyebrows at him.

“All the guild members have to attend,” Heeyeon continues. She doesn’t look away.

“Yes, I know.” Seokjin’s ears begin to turn red from the attention.

He doesn’t know what’s worse. That the two of you got a little carried away with just kissing, or that nothing explicit happened between you two yet. Maybe you could tell that he was tired or nervous, or maybe he was still trying to be a gentleman when you didn’t want him to be. But as he lies on your bed with you in his arms, the almost hanging over his head of what could’ve occurred that night, he realizes that there’s something he needs to tell you before he isn’t able to resist you anymore.

Junghwan suddenly sits next to him with a shit-eating grin on his face. “So, Seokjin, my best friend. I see you enjoyed your day off yesterday.”

Jaehwan and Sunwoo snort in laughter. Even Byulyi tries to hide her smile before she tries to get them quiet down. Other people in the guild are beginning to look their way.

Seokjin couldn’t ask for better timing as Adnan stands before the entire guild. They received an important mission from the capital.

“Our target is located around here,” he informs, pointing at a spot on the map. “We will need as many volunteers for this daunting task. My brother, Tariq, and I will also be accompanying you on this mission.”

Hearing that it will take multiple days to travel, investigate, and complete the mission has Seokjin wanting to pass it up.

Then, he hears the reward amount.

A collection of gasps and excited chatter fills the room. It’s the biggest bounty any of them have seen for one mission.

Junghwan clasps Seokjin’s shoulder and shakes it with excitement. “Did you hear that? We have to go!”

“I can’t.”

Team Seokjin all look at him with surprise. “Why not?”

“It’s… complicated,” he henges, not really sure how to explain the situation.

After what Jimin told him, he doesn’t feel comfortable leaving you alone that long. He knows the others at the shop will take care of you, of course. And he knows that his earnings for this mission will be enough to take you all to his hometown like he had planned. But it’s still his job to protect you, even if he isn’t a warden anymore.

“Is your wife pregnant or something?” Sunwoo asks, then yelps in pain when Byulyi elbows him.

Seokjin runs his hand through his hair. He doesn’t catch what Sunwoo calls you as he answers, “It’s not that. I just… I have to talk to her about it.”

Jaehwan comments, “I’m sure you’ll find a way to convince your wife.”

Five pairs of eyes linger to the fading markings on his neck.

“I don’t think it’s up to me, Seokjin,” you tell him, hugging his arm as you sit on the front steps of the shop. Dusk colors the sky with pretty hues of orange and purple, but as the sun sinks beautifully beyond the horizon, you feel Seokjin’s eyes on you.

“I don’t have to go,” he reminds you quietly. He told you that plenty of people seemed interested in taking up the quest.

“But do you want to go?”

It’s obvious that Seokjin has found his place with the Freelancers. Despite how tired he is by the end of the day, he enjoys going on quests with his new friends, conquering daunting tasks, and reaping their rewards.

A starry-eyed Jungkook and a curious Taehyung eagerly listen when Seokjin recounts his adventures for the day. You catch him handing a lot of his earnings to Namjoon, telling him that it’s for the next trip to the market, for a night out when the shop is closed, to keep in their savings. You hear him tell Hoseok and Yoongi that he’ll buy them whatever they want too, whether it’s a new coat that Hoseok has been eyeing or some better-quality meat from the butcher Yoongi likes.

If his mission is successful, he might even take time off for a bit. Give himself a break to enjoy what he’s been missing and what he’s earned. It’d be foolish of him to refuse.

“I’ll be worried about you,” he continues with a woeful sigh. “You’ll be stuck with a bunch of 8/10s.”

“I think I’ll survive. What’s the worst that Jungkook can do?” you half-joke, but then you pause when you actually think about the possibilities. “Actually, never mind. I think we both should be very worried.”

He laughs and kisses the top of your head. “I’ll miss you.”

“Not as much as I’ll miss you.” These days, you feel like that’s all you do. You miss him. Seokjin hasn’t been around as much since he joined the guild.

“I’ll make it up when I come back.”

“Or,” you begin, suddenly sitting up and looking him in the eye, “you can make it up to me now.”

“Can I admit something?” Seokjin begins, pressing his back against the lilac-colored sofa in his room. Red burns his ears and heats his face as your clothes slip off your body and fall on the ground. He feels like his entire body is on fire as you tilt your head, stripped of everything but your panties, and wait for him to continue. “I, uh… I don’t… I told you I was in a monastery before I became a warden, right?”

“Yes. You got kicked out,” you respond, stepping out of your clothes.

“For telling bad jokes,” he henges, seeming torn between looking away and staring at your body. You’re so gorgeous, it’s making him insane. “Anyway, funny thing that the monastery teaches—”

“Jin.”

“—lust to humans is a cardinal sin, and only the Wicked indulges in such—”

“We can just kiss like last time. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Seokjin peeks at your face, glances down at your chest, and then covers his entire face with his hands, muffling a groan. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but,” he takes your hand in his, “I know that for mages and even some humans, this isn’t a big deal. But it is to me. I just want you to understand that.”

“It’s fine, Jin. I understand. Let me just—” You start to pull away, but Seokjin keeps a firm hold on your hand, refusing to let it go.

“I don’t think you do, angel,” he says, tugging you closer to him again. “What I’m trying to say is that I love you. Truly. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone but you.”

He sees his confession sink in on you. “Jin…”

“According to the Devoted, I’m damning my soul for you, you know. The least you could say is that you love me back.”

“I love you,” you giggle, and he isn’t sure who kisses who first, but suddenly, you’re on his lap. Your hands cup his jaw, tilting his head back as you lean down to kiss him, and his hand tentatively squeezes your breast. You sigh when you pull away from his lips and start to kiss his neck, revisiting some of the hickeys you left last time. “I like when you touch me.”

“Yeah?” He practically moans. He likes when you touch him too.

His clothes are off, and you seem just as fascinated with his body as he is with yours. You practically squeal and giggle when he suddenly picks you up with his strong arms and carries you to his bed. The whites of his bedding truly make you look like an angel as you lie on top of it.

Seokjin leans over you, kissing you deeply. When he pulls back, your eyes are still closed with content. Breathless, you murmur, “I like when you kiss me, too.”

He takes this as a cue to kiss you more. Touch you more. Your body is so soft and warm. His heart races with assurance that you’re enjoying this as much as he is. That you’re letting him know how to please you.

He takes you slowly, filling you entirely. He intends to take his time with you for the first time, but the way you whine and grasp his forearm has him desperate for more. The kisses become sloppier. His own grunts and moans against your skin, against your lips, only encourage you to help him chase that climax.

But a stubborn part of Seokjin wants to take care of you first.

A loud gasp is caught from your throat and your hips jerk slightly when you feel his thumb against your clit. Experimental touches as he continues to thrust into you. “Oh, fuck, Jin, I—”

He doesn’t need you to tell him that you liked that.

You come undone for him, and Seokjin is so in awe and so in love as the waves of pleasure leave you quivering and clenching around him. There’s a light sheen of sweat on your skin, but it makes you glow. He smiles a little as he gives you a moment to catch your breath before he hooks your leg around his waist again.

You meet his gaze, a bit surprised when you feel him still hard inside you. Seokjin chuckles and leans over to kiss you again.

He makes you cum two more times before he allows himself to finish.

It’s a little before 6:00AM when he hears it.

The loud crowing of the neighbor’s damn rooster.

A groan escapes Seokjin’s lips as he tries to sink further into the blanket, pulling the covers over his head. There’s a weight on him that’s preventing him from moving, and it isn’t until you’re both under the covers when he realizes it’s you.

Your brows are furrowed, waking up a little when you feel him stirring, but your eyes are still closed. Your lips are parted slightly as your breaths are still slow and even. And you’re cutely tucked against him, bare skin touching his and hair messy from sleep.

It’s probably the first time in a while that you’ve slept through the night.

And Seokjin suddenly has another reason to like the morning. Especially if it means waking up to you.

“You know,” Seokjin begins when you wake up, still in bed and under the covers with him. “According to all the Devoted sisters in the monastery, I should’ve been struck by lightning by now.”

“That so?” you ask, voice still full of sleep.

“Yep. Lightning first, then the end of civilization as we know it.”

“It could still happen,” you reply with a smirk.

“Are you insinuating that we test that?” he questions with a mischievous smile of his own. “Naughty girl.”

Your giggles are muffled with a kiss as Seokjin rolls on top of you.

“Ah, good you haven’t left yet!” Hoseok exclaims when you and Seokjin come down the stairs sometime later. In his hand is a beaded bracelet. “Taehyung and I wanted to give this to you. It’s another good luck charm. He worked really hard finding the prettiest beads so I can make this.”

Taehyung puffs out his chest with pride and nods his head.

Seokjin smiles as he puts it on. It reminds him of the one Hoseok gave him at Blackstone Castle when they were still weary of each other.

Things have changed a lot since then.

“Hyung, I’ve done some research on what beasts are in the areas you’re traveling to,” Namjoon says, carrying some notes in his hands. The dark circles beneath his eyes indicate that he’s been up all night putting it together for him. “I made a list of each of their weaknesses too in case you engage in battle with them.”

Jungkook’s eyes are a bit shiny as he hugs Seokjin. “I wish I could go with you, but since I can’t, you have to stay safe so you can tell me all about your quest.”

“What do you feel like eating, hyung? I’ll cook today,” Yoongi offers, already holding a pan and a cup of coffee in his hands.

Seokjin blinks, trying not to tear up.

Unlike the others in the shop, Seokjin is just human. He doesn’t have any special abilities or arcane knowledge that the mages and familiars have. Yet, he’s still very much loved by every person at the shop.

There’s a knock at the door, and Seokjin goes to open it, knowing that there’s only one person in town that comes by when the shop is closed.

Jimin smiles at him. “Everyone in town is talking about the mission the Freelancers are taking. Are you going with them? I thought to stop by and wish you luck if you are.”

“Yeah, I’ll be heading to the meeting spot soon,” Seokjin answers as he lets him in. Everyone is still at the breakfast table, and it’s loud and lively like it usually is. As Jimin looks on, there’s a hint of loneliness and yearning on his face. Like he’s still very much an outsider to you all. “Hey, could you do me a favor?”

“Hm? Oh, sure. What is it?”

From one mortal to another, he has a simple request. “Take care of my family, okay?”

Saying goodbye to you all is more difficult than he thought it would be. He knew it’d be hard. After escaping Blackstone Castle together, you and the others haven’t really been separated at all.

Team Seokjin are all gathered at the meeting spot. There are quite a few other teams that have volunteered as well. All of them are chatting and saying goodbye to loved ones, and the two brothers seem to be in the middle of an argument as they discuss their initial plans at their debrief.

Seokjin leans his back against the tree trunk, sitting down. He’s just waiting for the debrief to be over so that they can be given further instructions, but it seems to be taking a while.

He rummages through his pack, triple-checking that he has everything he needs while he’s still in town. He has the essentials: medical supplies, food rations, a canister for water, a hunting knife, clothes and toiletries. Hoseok snuck some of his potions and antidotes in his pack as well, disguising them as medicine. A small smile forms on his lips when he finds a small alpaca doll in his bag as well. He isn’t sure who put it in there, but he’s certain it’s been enchanted to watch over him.

Then, he finds the letter that he started writing to his parents. He never finished it, and never got to send it. He starts to miss you when he sees that the last thing he wrote was about how you’re everything to him.

With time on his hand, he decides to finish it.

Dear Mom and Dad,

When you last saw your son, he was sent to Blackstone Castle. He was a mortal among mages, suspicious of them and their magic. He believed the word of the Devoted and saw them as his enemies.

That man died when Blackstone Castle fell.

The man I am now is still your son, still very much alive and well as he is handsome. He is lacking and vulnerable in many ways, but he does his best to keep pushing forward. For himself, for his new-found family. He is still the son you raised so well, but a lot of things have changed since he left home.

I hope to tell you guys all about it in person soon.

Your son, Kim Seokjin

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

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