#I dont know that ill make sheets like these for anyone else in the au

[mune-mice]

Lil sneak peak to prove that I am working on things o7

[201kl5-dead]

44+ REDDIE PLEASE YOU ANGST QUEEN!

Prompt 44: One of them being diagnosed with a terminal illness AU, Reddie

Read it on AO3

this is a lot less detailed and a lot worse than i wanted but i hope you at least dont hate it!

The although quiet but consistent beeping of machines was starting to drive Richie insane after the first five minutes, so it was fair to guess that his situation hadn’t gotten much easier after three bloody hours spent in the waiting room of the unfamiliar and cold hospital. The raven-haired young adult had his head in his hands, his messy curls being tugged into a more and more disastrous style as time passed. Maybe this whole day was cursed. They had been on their way to the mall, having planned on spending a few hours in there and had agreed to pick separate stores that both would have their time to go through and buy an outfit for the other before they met up again at a pre-planned place. It had been supposed to be fun, something to get them out of their comfort zone and to just have fun while your brand new fiancé got you a surprise outfit to wear. After that they would’ve continued on to the small and old cafe that they both loved, it was worn out and hidden from most curious eyes, but still perfect in just the right ways. They would’ve grabbed milkshakes and then gone to the movies, and just overall had the perfect day, right in time to celebrate the earlier week. The week where Richie finally got that job in the radio station that he had been wanting for years. The week where Eddie passed all his tests with flying colours, thus getting him in the best med school in the area. And most importantly, the week when despite them being young and in some would call ‘reckless’ love, they knew that all they really wanted from life was to spend it together. They would be able to take on anything, just as long as they had each other, just like always. Richie and Eddie. Eddie and Richie. Eddie Spaghetti and the Trashmouth. The two best friends who had always bickered like an old married couple but who fit together like two long-lost puzzle pieces, always managing to balance each other out and were always there for the other. It had been the week when Richie had finally, according to his own words, grown the balls to propose to Eddie. Maybe it had been awkward, and maybe Richie left the food that was supposed to be a grand and romantic dinner in the oven for a few minutes too long and then ended up ordering fast food in his panic, and maybe they both cried when Richie finally with shaking hands and voice got on one knee, almost falling over in his nervousness, and asked the big question while helplessly stumbling over his words. Maybe, it hadn’t gone as he had planned. Maybe, he had forgotten what he was supposed to say and just ended up stuttering something barely understandable in a small voice. But despite all of that, Eddie had said yes. Of course he did. That was something he always knew he would do, and he couldn’t have been happier. Even the weird morning headaches, the sudden waves of nausea and dizziness accompanied with him almost passing out a little too often, had left him alone that day. And it was perfect, oh it had been absolutely perfect. Maybe it had been too perfect, even. And now they were here. Or at least Richie was, Eddie had been rushed off hours ago, and Richie hadn’t seen his fiancé since. Eddie had been driving Richie’s old car that he had helped fix up a few years back, and they had both been singing off-tune with the radio blasting on high volume, and everything seemed perfect. At least until Eddie’s eyes had started to droop without a warning, and Richie had barely had any time to yank on the wheel to direct them to the side of the road, alerted by the small whimper of his name that had left the brunette’s lips before he had lost consciousness. Their car had crashed against a tree but with low enough speed that they both made it out with only a few scratches, and a mild concussion in Richie’s case, seeing as he had tried to both support Eddie and shield him from the impact. An ambulance had been called quickly by someone that had seen their accident and seeing as Eddie stayed unconscious even after five minutes, no matter how many times Richie tried to shake him awake. They had both been rushed to the nearest hospital, with Richie explaining what all had been going on for the past couple of months, telling how Eddie had started to get nauseous and dizzy often, but even after several different tests and visits to some very sought after doctors, nothing seemed to be wrong with him. And that’s how they got here, with Richie pacing around the waiting room before giving up and having sat down on one of the couches, head in hands as he still had no idea what was going on, or if Eddie was okay. And it was slowly starting to drive him absolutely fucking insane. — After almost three hours of agony of not knowing what was happening and not being able to do anything, a nurse finally approached him in the now otherwise empty waiting room. Richie practically shot up to his feet, almost falling over in the process. The nurse gave him a small and sympathetic smile and motioned him to come with. “Mr Kaspbrak is stable and awake currently, and asked to see you-” She didn’t even have an opportunity to finish her sentence before Richie was already walking ahead of him, clearly looking jittery. “What’s going on? Is he okay? Why did this take such a damn long time? Is everything-” “Mr Tozier, please try to calm down. We mostly just ran some tests and had to wait for the results to come in as we took care of him. He wanted to tell you the results himself, so please, feel free to go see him” the nurse stopped in front of one of the numerous doors decorating the hallway, and looked at Richie with a sad smile that set him even more on edge immediately. “Do try to let him rest, even if it’s hard. He’s deserved it.” He almost didn’t even hear the nurses departing words, having already rushed in the room, eyes searching around frantically. In a few seconds he had located Eddie almost buried under the disturbingly straightened hospital sheets, with an IV attached to his hand and a pile of papers on the metallic tray next to his bed. He reached the bed in a few long strides, immediately pulling up a chair next to the bed and sitting down before grabbing his fiancé’s hand and studying his face, trying to find any signs of the familiar symptoms of anxiety and panic the brunette tended to get around hospitals. Instead what he found would have probably been calming or reassuring to some, but the gentle and slightly worried look in Eddie’s eyes just scared Richie even more. Although that fear was nothing compared to the wave of nausea that washed over him with the words that rang in his ears, making everything else around him blur out. “So… They did all the tests that they could think of based on what you told them while they were checking up on me. And, well, there’s no easy way to say this, Rich. They- they just told me that one test showed something unpleasant, and they confirmed it with more scans. Richie, I have cancer. It’s-” Eddie swallowed softly, squeezing Richie’s hand as the other had gone completely white, and seemed to almost be shaking as he could feel his own eyes starting to well up too. “It’s in my brain, but in a spot that they can’t operate on it without permanently turning me into a vegetable. And since they can’t cut it out, well, it’s- It’s terminal. They don’t know how long it’ll take for it to kill me, but they think it won’t be too long. The closest guess the doctor was able to give is less than a year.” Eddie whispered out the end of the sentence, feeling like his heart was going to break as he saw the silent tears that started to fall down Richie’s cheeks, eventually falling on the bed and their joined hands. And without a word the taller male suddenly leaned down, enveloping the other in what was probably the tightest hug he could muster, as he tried to keep his crying silent. He had to be strong for Eddie, he just had to. It seemed like an eternity had passed before Richie finally lifted his head, arms still wrapped around Eddie’s small frame with no intention of letting go as he looked at his fiancé with teary eyes but a weak smile on his face, his voice barely above a hushed breath “I’m going to make sure that this is going to be the best goddamn year anyone has ever had.” The brunette smiled softly as his heart warmed up, and if he really was destined to die inside a year, he had absolutely no regrets about who he was going to spend every passing day of that year with. He sniffled softly and tilted his chin up, trying to look down on Richie but evidently failing. “You know, this means that you owe me some royal treatment, Tozier.” Richie let out a small and wet laugh, hesitantly untangling one hand from around Eddie in order to salute him. “I would never consider doing anything less- although you know, terminally ill or not, you’re still an adorable dork, Ed’s.” Those were the words that had Eddie smiling genuinely for the first time after they arrived at the hospital, and he gave his boyfriends, and best friends, words a soft chuckle, “But I’m your terminally ill and adorable dork.” “That you most certainly are my love, that you most certainly are.” Richie hummed as he moved to gently brush a few stray strands of hair from Eddie’s forehead, and tilted his head a little. “Anything else you want or need right now?” The answer he got was small and quiet, and almost so scared-sounding that it broke his heart. “Just.. stay with me? Please?” “Of course I will Ed’s, I promise. Through anything and everything.”

[a-dracon]

To Allure and Impede

SUMMARY: Marvin Lockens was fifteen when he was brought under Jameson Jackson’s wing and first started learning how to control and use his magic. Since then, he’s met Henrik Schneeplestein, the Castle’s doctor and his father figure, Chase Brody, the Castle’s Third in Command and best archer around, Jackie Bullmon, the Second in Command and Head Guard who’s always wearing red, and Sean McLoughlin, the King Himself, as well as various others. Yet, despite being with them for more than four years and proving to be a skilled mage, they all still treated him like the shy child they first met. And he was tired of it. What happens when he meets a stranger in the woods, who gives him cards to hand out and disappears into the shadows? What happens when he hides it from everyone? What happens at the Masquerade?

W̙͍̠̿̄͘h̬̲͇̻͎̍a̖̣͇̯͌̈͆ͯ̒͊̿t͇̗̖͕̻̽̄̑ ͚̼̜̪̥͎ͪͬ͊ͦͫ̉̚H̻̯͈͎͇͎͇ͣͣ͛͛ͣ̇ã̠̼̝̖̫̌̽ͯ̍̑p̝̌̐̿̔ͩͤṗ̷̻̳ͤ̂͋ͬ̋͒e̫̪̣̽̐ń͓͚̞͈̲̯͡s̶̀̐͋͂̈?̥̖͊͘

Chapter One Word count: 1532 Warnings: Manipulation, Anti, mild swearing A/N: Thank you to both my beta readers @jackjames-exe and @lin-apples for giving me feedback on this! I was listening to songs in my music playlist, and Ready as Ill Ever Be decided to pop up. I got hit by a bus called inspiration, made a basic character info sheet a couple nights ago and even did a bit of art. Next thing you know, bam over four pages of words and two beta readers to give feedback. So, thanks for reading!

Also, ill be tagging this TAI AU, and ill also make a tag list for those who are interested! Now, ONTO THE STORY!

next

"Why the hell can't I transfer words from my head to my mouth?!"

Marvin Lockens groaned, his checkered mask shifting slightly as he let his face fall into the spellbook. "I know magic Jamie, why can't I make this easier?" A few feet away, the mute Castle Mage seemed to chuckle, setting his own spellbook on the desk. 'That would be called cheating' he signed. "The world giving me magic and not a way to control it immediately is also cheating yet here we are," Marvin shot back, green orbs looking at brown. 'Thats......fair, I suppose.' Jameson signed back, taking a moment to think. 'But even if there were a method of making spell learning easier, you would have to learn that as well. ' "So basically, there's no winning." 'Winning would be learning the spell, Marvin.' He paused briefly to flick the checkered feline mask that covered half of Marvin's face. 'For now, take a break. I do believe Chase had something to show you.' His eyes seemed to light up. "Alright! So I'll see you later, Jamie?" 'Jameson to you, apprentice. But yes, I do want to see you after dinner.' "Gotcha!" Marvin grinned, shooting up from his desk . He waved goodbye to his magic instructor, making sure to grab his cloak on the way out. Jameson only smiled and watched his apprentice run off. Despite being 19 already, the mage in training still was as adventurous as if he was the 15 year old found accidentally burning a tree. Not much seemed to change, save for his way of talking around them and his control over magic. To this day, he was still very, very grateful for finding him before anyone else did. If anyone found him and knew what he was capable of, well, it would end in a war gone very, very wrong. Not that he needed to know. Not yet, at least. He sighed, picking up the spellbook forgotten on Marvin's desk. No, there was plenty of time before it was necessary to tell him, he thought as he bookmarked and reahelved the leather book.

Chase strode through the halls, looking out the tall windows. Four years ago and he would have stopped to admire the view. Well, that or get lost in the maze of a castle. Then again, he hadn't been in any other castle, so who's to say this wasn't normal castle floor plans? He blinked, looking away from the window when the sound of footsteps came closer. "Oh hey Jackie!" He greeted the Head Guard. "Do you know where Chase went? Jamie said he had something to show me." Jamie shrugged, readjusting the two books he was currently carrying. "I think he mentioned something about heading to the gate. The one that leads to the westward forest?" "Thanks Jackie! See you later!" "No problem Marv! Don't get into too much trouble! Oh, is Jamie in his room or his office?" "Office!" He called back, jogging off in the direction of the gate.

"Chase!" Marvin called, stopping briefly to catch his breath. "Jamie said you wanted to see me?" "Yeup!" The slightly older guard grinned, hopping down from the chestnut mare he had just been riding. "I was out doing a bit of patrol work earlier, and found something really weird and more your department than mine. Figured I should show you and get your input about it. I saddled up Sal for you already, shes in her stall." "Thanks, but how'd you know I'd be able to come with you and not stuck studying my spells?" He questioned, walking with chase the short distance to the stables. "I didn't. That's why she's still in her stall."

"Sooo.....what are we lookin for?" Tjey were both doing a simple trot, Chase leading on his mare Kit while Marvil followed on his own paint. "Well, I saw footprints earlier, " He glanced back at the apprentice. "Would've dismissed it, with this being a forest and all, but they seemed like they were coming from the castle. And since i know none of the staff like to go in these woods, I went to check em out. After a while, I reached a clearing and poof, they dissappear right smack in the middle." "So?" Marvin tilted his head a bit. "Couldn't they have just stepped on something, like a stone, to hide their footprints? Or really dry ground?" Chase shook his head. "Nope. There were stones around, but no footprints after that. And the ground was all muddy too, from yesterday's rain. Speaking of stones, they were really weird." "Weird how?" "laying ring around the rosy weird. Literally. They were in a ring." Chase deadpanned. He paused momentarily, looking around and shifting directions slightly before continuing his trot. "And you went to me instead of Jamie because...?" "I have less of a chance feeling like I dissapointed you than Jameson if it's actually just nothing. That and i still don't completely understand sign." He shrugged. "Chase Brody: Most skilled marksman, can shoot down anything a mile away...never understanding sign." Marvin teased, speaking in a stereotypical murder mystery tv show host voice. "Hey, I just dont want to say fuck you instead of hello to someone in sign!" Chase replied, going along with the tease as he spoke overdramatically. "I'm pretty sure it's practically impossible to confuse a wave and flipping the bird Chase" " Well excuuuuse me princess!"

"Is this it?" Marvin looked around, taking in the view. It seemed peaceful enough, about an acre of slightly muddy grass. A few feet away, footprints were left in the mud that moved towards the middle of the clearing. It ended abruptly at a ring of almost completely white stones, the last pair of footprints in the middle of the ring. After that, there were none. No signs of backtracking either. "Yeah. Weird, isn't it?" Chase commented, not bothering to dismount. He wasn't the mage, afterall. "Definitely. But never fear. Marvin the magnificent shall figure this out!" He exclaimed, overdramatically dismounting his horse. "Yeah yeah, " Chase snickered, doing the best mock bow he could from the back of a horse. "The floor is yours, Marvin the Magnificent." Marvin snorted, walking closer to the odd ring. He shut his eyes, and let himself sink into his magic, let himself reach out- "Wha - Hey! Easy girl, easy! Sal, come back!" A distressed Chase called out. Marvin looked back at the mares, watching his run off after being spooked by something. Chase pulled on the reins of his own, attempting to calm her a bit while also turning to go after Marvin's. "Don't worry, I'll go get her! You work your magic! " he called, galloping after the paint that ran into the woods. Marvin blinked, watching them for a moment before shaking his head. Clear thoughts, afterall. Focus. Sink into his magic. Let himself be surrounded. Let himself be aware of it all around him. Let himself feel for the traces of magic around the st- His thoughts were cut off as a sharp cry escaped his lips. Back colliding and sliding across mud and wet grass, Marvin seemed to be pulled into the shadows of the woods. The Mage scrambled to his feet, hand moving to grip the hilt of the blade that was always by his side. Right now, he was just dragged by something and could sew absolutely nothing but darkness. "they don't appreciate you, do they~?" "What...who...of course they do! Who's out there!?" He looked around wildly, trying to find the source of the scratchy voice. "You know they see you as a child." "No they don't! shut up and show yourself!" Marvin cried out, unsheathing his sword. "They don't see you as someone who they can really depend on." "Of course they do! They're my friends!" Though, he wasn't entirely sure. His grip faltered slightly. "Are they? Or are they only entertaining you? You know how he is afterall..." "Shut up! You're wrong!" Tears pricked the corner of his eyes, his stance becoming stiff and sloppy. "No one sees what you can do. What you can accomplish." Green eyes peered at him through the darkness. They looked at him, curious. "I can make them see the power you hold." "...really....?" Marvin lowered his sword, blinking away tears. "Really. Come now, I've been honest this far. Put a little trust in someone." The eyes disappeared, and Marvin felt clawed hands wrap around his shoulders, someone leaning onto their back. "....what do i have to do...?" Eyes narrowed, Marvin still kept his guard slightly up. It was a stranger, afterall. But the offer that was given....it was too intriguing. "Simple. Show your magic to the town. Your true magic, " the person purred, slipping a small deck of cards into his hand. "The townsfolk already love you for your false tricks. But, try using these. They are, of course, real magic, made to assist with every card trick in the book. And let each person have a card until there are no more. Let them have something to remember your name by~" One clawed finger continued tapping the deck.

"Will you accept~?"

[wintaer-bear]

Gladiolus (M) Ch. 1

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader Genre/ Rating: smut and fluff/ mature (18+) Word Count: 3.8k ***WARNING: mature themes (daddy kink), strip/bar/club!AU Summary: Being the girlfriend of a club owner sounds like fun. Free booze, free parties, free company. But none of that matters at the end of the night when the lights turn on and he comes home smelling like the life of the party.

11:12 PM.

Just another three hours until bar close, followed by sixty minutes of closing hour. Then half an hour to clear out the stragglers. Cleaning up will take at least another 90 minutes. A twenty-three minute drive home.

Namjoon has developed a habit in counting down the seconds in the moments he’s away from you. The man loves nothing more than crawling into your shared sheets at sunrise to wake you with morning kisses and breakfast he has picked up along the way. Your day starts early, by the time he’s done showering you with love and affection, you’re in a rush to redress in more appropriate undergarments and work attire. He’s left to clean up the scattered breakfast that never quite seem to make it into your stomachs, but fills him up entirely. If he’s not drunk on your love, his stomach is full with butterflies you hatch as you kiss his cheek goodbye in your white coat. God, he loves you in that white coat.

In his mind, Namjoon already has you bent over and on the brink of ecstasy. You have formally forgiven him for this morning’s trivial spat that began over “not squeezing the toothpaste correctly” (it’s from the bottom up, by the way) and his left hand is holding your waist steady while his right is entangled in your hair as it pushes your moaning breath further into the pillow with each pounding action of his thick hips. His lips visit the back of your shoulder in a wet reward for taking him in so well. Each touch elicits a guttural sound between your exasperated pants, a muffled vibration that seems to resemble his name.

“Joonie, Joon-ah.”

At least, that’s what he hopes it’ll be like when he returns home this upcoming morning.

Namjoon had to leave in the middle of the discourse, leaving it unresolved and to sink in as he made his way to work. It was just toothpaste for Christ sake. Nothing to get so worked up about. He hated leaving you in an angry mess, but try as he might, he couldn’t pinpoint the source of such angst much less anything to hold onto with such resentful conviction. He figures it’s another one of your shared and misguided arguments brought on by stress that will blow over by the time he gets home. You’ve always been one to take on more than you can handle and Namjoon’s own mind has be preoccupied searching for the next best step for the club.

Namjoon takes a look around his office, music threatening against his door, reminding him of the company he has to entertain tonight. He takes a final glance at his phone, his last message left on read, breathes a heavy sigh of sobriety, and returns to the fancy limbo of his own creation.

[8:15 PM] Namjoon: Goodnight princess. Daddy will see you when he get’s home. {read}

The smell of hookah and alcohol is mesmerizing, nostalgic if he wasn’t exposed to it three nights a week. It reminds him of a time when he looked forward to the blacked out nights and the youthfulness it instilled; a time when he was on the other side, enjoying the booze and spending money he didn’t have. Now he was the owner, the boss kicking out drunks and allowing pretty, high-end tails in at his discretion.

The club is in its normal state, busy and hectic. There’s a bachelor party going on that is obviously more for the friends than the groom-to-be. Namjoon chuckles under his breathe as he recognizes the loudest one as Jackson, a companion you made during one of your rotations.

“Namjoon! My man!” He drunkenly shouts, calling Namjoon over with hands. “Come down a drink with us! I’d say it’s on us, but it’s your house, so I guess it’s on you.” The blonde haired man’s words come out slurred as he downs a double shot of rum and whisks is eyes to the stage where one of Namjoon’s dancer’s has just began her show. “Wow, she’s a hottie. Look at her hips move.”

“Yeah, that’s Rose,” Namjoon replied, unfazed by the dancer’s movements. “She’s got a slot open if you want to surprise your friend. I’d book her soon though. She sells out quick.”

“Who? For Jaehyung? Nah,” Jackson laughs hysterically at the thought. “That boy is too in love with his fiancee to even look at anyone else. Coming here was his idea, but when he got here all he wanted was booze and lobster. Said the other girls made him cringe.”

Namjoon glances past beside Jackson. The groom to be is working his way through the lobster tail in one hand and clinging onto his beer is the other, oblivious to lustful looks surrounding him. “Sounds like a solid man to me,” Namjoon chuckles. “You enjoy yourself Jackson. If anyone tries to give you trouble, just let me know. I’ll be hovering around here somewhere.”

“Get you a man who has your back!” Jackson calls after the leaving body. “Oh, wait! Let’s take a picture for Y/N! She still doesn’t believe I do anything more than hold babies and scream.”

Namjoon laughs at the thought. The number of times you’ve come home exhausted from Jackson’s overwhelming enthusiasm and energy is well over a dozen and now he could see why.

[11:29 PM] Y/N: [image.jpg] so jackson, an actual angel on earth, the purest form of innocence, can come to 148, but i, your queen of the bedsheets, cannot? what kind of sexism is this??? {unread}

[11:45 PM] Y/N: fine. ignore me. ill just sulk. {unread}

[11:45 PM] Y/N: and think about how you DONT squeeze toothpaste correctly {unread}

[11:46 PM] Y/N: yes, im still mad about that {unread}

[12:09 AM ] Y/N: why is jackson sending me pictures of you behind the bar? {unread}

[12:18 AM] Y/N: [image.jpg] get that smug little smirk off your face {unread}

You know Jackson doesn’t mean anything harm by his texts. He captions every picture with something silly like “get you a man who can bop bottles” or “he’s so daddy.” The golden boy honestly thinks his snapshots and updates are hilarious. Like you, he doesn’t get out much, the rawness of the hospital hours weighing him down.

The last picture he sent was a blurred picture of two bodies, one leaning over the bar to whisper something into the other’s ear. Even with the blur of lights and pixels, you could tell it was Namjoon. He hunched over the bar with a grin on his face as the female covered her lips to his ear.

[12:22 AM] Y/N: istg kim namjoon if you dont stop flirting up a storm ill strangle you myself {unread}

Dramatic. You know. You were supposed to be an adult, a professional, but somehow everything and anything Namjoon did made you turn into an overdramatic high schooler.

The weekends were always the same. They’re the only two days of rest before the start of another hectic work week. You want nothing more but to spend those dwindling hours snug in your living room watching some cheesy disney princess movie with Namjoon, but your evenings are cute short when he has to return to Club 148 to supervise his venue. You’d never tell him, but it’s a jab at your ego and feeds your insecurities to watch him dress in his best suits and be surrounded by beautiful and adorned women who respond to his beck and call. It just didn’t feel right to ask him to quit running the club when he had built it from the ground up to feed your dreams in the first place.

One more hour. Just another hour until bar close.

Time couldn’t past by fast enough. Namjoon removed himself from behind the bar, and poured himself a scotch. He doesn’t normally drink on the job, but what started as normal night, had somehow turned into a stampede of parties and drunks ordering up the bar. His three bartenders couldn’t keep up, and Namjoon saved his own ass by hopping behind the bar to take a couple of orders himself.

He doesn’t know how Seokjin does it. Seokjin will chat up his customers, pour shots, get them to spill their life story, turn attention to the next customer mid-through, and still get tipped 20% minimum. Namjoon had a hard enough time hearing the orders let alone keeping the orders straight and receiving any tip at all. The number of times he prepared the wrong drink was enough to fill three empty bottles of wholesale liquor.

“Good looking out chief,” Seokjin waved to his employer as he returned to the safety of his confines. His office was located on the second floor, and overlooked the bar and entryway. The tall one-way mirrors made it look like just another hall of reflective glass to the unsuspecting customers, but made it all the easier to keep track of his club.

Namjoon pulls out his phone, aware of all the buzzing that went on whilst behind the bar.

He figures it’s spam from the club’s SNS, last minute questions about tonight's theme, but lets out a breathe of adoration at the realization of the mass texts you’ve been sending in your group chat. He reads each text in the tone he’s sure you sent them in.

[12:47 AM] Namjoon: I love you too baby :))) bt maybe next time can u dm me so Reuel doesnt have to read our messages? {read}

Namjoon made sure to double check that he was sending the message directly to you and not the group chat.

[12:48 AM] Y/N: how about next time you DONT flirt with the pretty girl buying drinks?? {read}

Namjoon laughs at your response. It’s hard to take your petty jealousy seriously when he was so obviously in smitten with you.

Namjoon adores you. He counts down the minutes until he can return home to you. He brings you breakfast in bed. He kisses the stretch marks on your stomach, on your thighs, on your ass. He loves every part of you, and if it wasn’t blatantly obvious to the girls he pouring drinks for that he wasn’t interested, Namjoon figured they weren’t bright enough for a thorough explanation anyway.

[12:48 AM] Namjoon: How about i squeeze from the bottom instead? :) {read}

[12:49 AM] Y/N: not my bottom. {read}

You read right through his message, clear of his intentions. No way was he going to get out of this fight with dirty talk… again.

[12:49 AM] Y/N: not even if you asked nicely. {read}

[12:50 AM] Namjoon: We’ll see ;) How’s my little baby? {read}

[12:50 AM] Y/N: fine. sleeping. bye. {read}

Namjoon let out a chuckle at your last text. You’re obviously upset at him but he can’t help but think of the cute expression you make as you roll your eyes at his antics.

The rest of the night pasts by in a blur. Namjoon continues to make rounds of his club, making sure all his employees remain compliant with his philosophy. He doesn’t like to blend the pleasures of work and play and when his employees are on the clock, he expects strict mannerisms of work.

Jungkook has been caught being a little too frisky during his private dances, and although Namjoon hates to demote him to a bouncer, it hopes it reinforces the seriousness of his law. Ideally Namjoon would  have let the boy go, but he has developed a soft spot for the misguided adolescent; a story Namjoon has seen too often ignored rather than helped.

The rounds aren’t just for his employees, but for his customers too. Interacting with the high bidders and gold membership owners help build his network and rapport. Though Namjoon may look like a insouciant club owner, he’s a businessman at his core. Namjoon is always looking for ways to raise Club 148’s profits and improve the stability of his volatile business. Night clubs are common in his area, and each is in competition to outcompete one another. He’s at a particular disadvantage due to his strict rules of pleasure, something most of his employees respect him for boy clients see different.

By the time the last straggler exits the building, Namjoon is wiped. The constant inbetween regulations and customers has him dizzy and ready for bed. It takes his crew just as long as he predicted to clean the mess left from the events of the night.

“Good work tonight everyone,” he thanks his crew as he does at the end of each night.

The drive home is always his favorite. A realm of calm in the typically busy streets. He gets a chance to recollect all his thoughts and a he drives into the sunrise, and he thanks the heavens for another day he gets to return to you.

Normally, Namjoon comes home and takes a shower. You don’t drink or smoke, so the scents of Namjoon’s club makes your empty stomach do flips, but this early morning is different. He crawls into bed with scents from last night’s shift.

It’s Sunday, the only day the two of you get to spend the entire 24 hours together. There is no evening rush to get to his club, and no early morning on-call duty. Sunday is your day, so why does he smell like Saturday?

“Babe, go shower,” you mumble, words weak in your sleep. “You smell like cigarettes and poison.”

“I figured it out,” he says sleekly, ignoring your request. “I thought about it all night and on my drive home. I get it now.”

“Get what?”

“You’re a planner,” he continues and presses a kiss upon your forehead. “You’ve always been a planner.” This kiss splayed on your nose. “I’m not a planner.” Your lips. “I do things as they come,” his lips are now on your collarbone, tracing their way back up your neck.

“But I’ll squeeze the toothpaste from the bottom from now on.”

You chuckle beside him as his lips press against yours. “Oh, so you think that’s asking nicely?”

“Wasn’t asking” he smirks, feeding his hands the skin of your thighs as he brings your legs to wrap around his waist. His gaze is intent on yours.

Your lips find Namjoon’s for the first time tonight and he takes it as a notion of approval. Almost immediately, he moves his palms from your outer thighs to the curve of your ass and lays kisses on your breasts. You moan at his light and gentle touches and gasps his name as he tighten his grip on your buttocks, pressing you into his groin. “God, I love your ass.”

You can feel his hardening cock rubbing against your core as he pulls you on top of him. You’re sweating, panting, wanting.

“Did my baby miss me while I was away?” He gives a slap tap to your ass.

You bite your lip at his teasing and nod, confirming your pleasure. Namjoon loves to taunt you. It’s the sole reason you’re rushing out the door five minutes later than you should be every morning for your shift. He loves the moaning mess he makes of you as he kisses your core and the begging you succumb to when you’re impatient for a good fuck.

“Bend over for me sweetheart, let Daddy see.”

You do as he commands, quick to position yourself on all fours. Namjoon replays the fantasy he had of you earlier, a moaning tool as he gripped your waist. His dick twitches at the thought. He can’t wait to enter you, but not before you’re pleading for relief.

“So wet,” he moans, teasing your tight pussy with his fingers. He runs his drenched finger along your slit. “Stick it out for me, baby. Show me how pretty your pussy is.”

He meets your core in the air with his tongue, tracing circles around you clit. The air and muscle cool along your entrance. You want him.

“Please Daddy,” you beg. “Don’t tease me.”

He groans, restraining himself from entering you all at once. “You’ve got to show me first, sweetheart. Show me how hungry your pussy is.”

As if on cue, your Kegel muscles begin to involute on their own, twitching at his beck and call. You imagine every inch of him inside you, pounding into you until you’re sore.

“That’s it. That my hot baby. Call daddy’s cock with your pussy.”

Your ass begins to dance in the air, taunting him to enter you. You can feel the hardness of his cock pressing against your cheeks as he continues to thrust his fingers in and out of you.

“Joonie,” you moan in ecstasy. “Please. Ugh. Just. Ugh. Fuck. Me.” Your voice comes out in sporadic gasps as he shoves his third finger in you and searches for your spot. His excitement unveiled as he too gives out a moan from your pelvic muscles squeezing around his fingers.

“Damn baby, arch your back. I think your pussy is ready for me.”

Namjoon extends his free hand down the small of your back, pushing your frame deeper into the mattress. He loves seeing you in this position, your ass is curved and high, hiding your tight cunt that’s begging to be fucked. He pumps a wet kiss on the highest curve of your ass, warning you of his entrance.

An exchange of moans reverberate through the room, echoing down the halls as Namjoon enters you. He’s not gentle. He allows gasps of breath exit his mouth, as he chants your name, praising your cunt. “So fucking tight.”

Namjoon doesn’t let up his thrusts even when he feels your walls caving in. “Ungh,” he groans. “That’s it baby. Squeeze my dick.”

You’re exhausted, your cunt erratically twitching from cumming a second time.

“Look at those cheeks bounce. God, I love this ass.” He gives another slap to your ass, watching as your booty jiggles on his dick.

“Come in me Daddy. Fill me up.” Your voice is begging, frail and honest.

“Don’t tease me, sweetheart. You know I want to.”

As long as the two of you have been together, very rarely do you let Namjoon come in you. He loves it, the thrill of releasing himself in you as you convulse around his cock but you’ve come wary of the consequences.

“Please Daddy,” you beg, giving one final squeeze around his cock. “I want to feel you cum.”

Namjoon gives a few erratic pumps before he feels sweet ecstasy releasing from the tip of his swollen cock and traverse to his knees. His body falls to the bed, dragging yours with him as he braces his arm as your pillow. He tosses his trousers from the night before on the ground and fixes himself in his briefs. You straighten out your own nightgown as your snuggle into his chest.

“She was just a customer, you know?” He laughs, turning his body to face you. “And I meant it when I said I’d squeeze from the bottom.” His hands jiggle the base of your exposed cheeks.

“Still hate her,” you replied, giving him a peck on his cheeks. “And good, you can start by-”

“Daddy?” A small and angelic voice interrupts. Namjoon brings his attention to the little girl walking towards your bed, her yellow bear in hand as she yawns and rubs her sleepy eyes open. “I knew I heard mommy calling your name.”

“Good morning Princess.” Namjoon is quick to feet, relinquishing you from his warmth and transferring it to the little doe-eyed doll who looks just like you. He picks her up as gentle as you would a infant. “Who’s this new guy? Your prince?” Namjoon directs his finger to the stuffed toy at her side.

“No. Daddy is my prince. He’s my beast, see?” She shoves the bear in her awestruck father’s face and bellows a growl with all her might. The sweetest roar he ever did hear.

“Daddy can’t be your prince little baby. I’m mommy’s prince. And she’s my queen.” The girl frowns in his arms and looks at you on the bed before whispering something in the smiling man’s ear.

“But she said she’d strangle you.”

“I didn’t mean it, Reuel. Mommy was just a tiny weeny upset at Daddy.” You mutter, rising from the bed.

“But I read it on my tablet!”

Namjoon gives you a triumphant smile. He and Reuel always tag team you. “I meant to say,” you breathe, exasperated at your four-year old’s reading comprehension, she must have got that from her dad. “I’m going to strangle him with love. So much love. So much love Daddy is going to-”

“I’m hungry,” the mini-you cut you off (again), turning her head to her father. “Let’s go make breakfast downstairs daddy.”

“That’s a good idea,” Namjoon agreed, smiling at you as he placed little Reuel’s feet to the floor. “Mommy has a mess to clean up.”

Sunday’s are supposed to be your day, family day. But Reuel and Namjoon make it Reuel and Namjoon day with their behavior exclusive exchange of whispers and secrets. It hard for you to even get a kiss from Namjoon when she’s all over Namjoon’s shoulders during “princess movie time” and holding his attention while you make trips into the city. He’s obviously the favorite parent, but that doesn’t discourage you from fawning for her attention as much as you do for Namjoon’s.

“Come on Reuel, let’s go get some ice cream. One for you, one for me, and one for daddy.”

“How about I go with Daddy and you wait here?” She points to the bench and drags her father’s hand along in the direction of the dessert parlor.

You face is visibly hurt, distorted by the easiness your daughter dismisses you when her father is around.

“She’s just like you, you know?” Namjoon smiles, licking your ice cream. “Looks like you, talks like you, gets jealous like you.”

You jerk your ice cream away from him, glaring at him with your beady eyes. “Sounds like a double win to me.”

A/N: this is part of the Appease (strip/bar/club!AU) Series. yee.