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0luv9 · 4 months

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this love || mattheo riddle

Summary: he should know better, he should understand that it's pointless but he is a fool, acting like he knows better despite the years of fruitless pining. He lingers just for the off chance- that you could be his.

[post hogwarts setting]

Beware: angst, a bit of fluff, minimal plot (the plot itself hasn't been explored much), she/her pronouns used, mostly written in second person, kinda fast-paced, brief mention of drinking, reader has been wronged, some parts of it are fast-paced, reader's oc boyfriend, marriage, misusage of magic, blood and fighting, hospitals.

(I don't know what I just wrote)

Words: 8.1k

He knew he was fighting a losing battle, knew that from the very moment, his eyes fell on you for the first time. Yet he can’t help but try, try and win this battle, to win you over because he knows it’ll be worth it. There’s no explaining behind this unreasonable love for you, there’s no clear moment where he came to the realization, that it’s something he’s always known, to be in love with you.

But you are in his arms, your boyfriend, the perfect man, the sight telling him to look away, telling him that you are off limits.

How can he forget you though? You are the reason he breathes nowadays, but you are so blissfully unaware of the turmoil you’ve caused. Whenever you are in his sight, his heart pounds violently against his chest, he has never felt this way towards someone else and he doesn’t think he’ll remain sane any further.

Mattheo was never a sane man, so why pretend otherwise?

He’s a fucking hypocrite, has made you a bad habit of his, he wouldn’t like it if someone stole you away from him, but he’d gladly steal you away from anyone else. But you are you, ever so loyal to your boyfriend, you've been with the guy for over 5 years now, sweethearts of Hogwarts and now sweethearts of the ministry.

It's been three years since you've all left Hogwarts he was waiting for you to break up with your boyfriend, but it never came, it wasn't some case of stupid teen love like he thought it was, in fact, it became even serious-

He should have given up long back, but he just couldn't help himself, he hasn't changed much over the years, old habits die hard. Troublemaker then, troublemaker now. Mattheo wanted to beat the shit out of your boyfriend Lucas, how could he though? It would hurt you and there was no excuse he could give; it would only strain your relationship with him.

He wants to make a move but knows your answer will always be negative, so he keeps a stone over his heart and pines after you from afar.

...

But it's not enough, it's never enough. One look at you entering the room with fucking Anderson feels like a hundred knives stabbing through his heart all at once. You are in emerald green, the same shade as Lucas' shirt, his arm around you, looking ever so beautiful. Mattheo closes his eyes, hand over his burning chest trying to calm himself down as Lucas leans down to kiss you.

"They look so good together," he hears Pansy gush from his side, his friends agreeing, and he can't even bring himself to look in your direction. Would it be the same if it was him instead of him? He can only imagine being Lucas, it's pure jealousy he feels towards the man.

Why did he even come to this party? To see you, of course, there hasn't been a single day where he hasn't seen you, but he fucking forgot that you wouldn't be alone, you are never alone, he's always with you. It wouldn't be the same without the two sweethearts, it was the ministry's doing after all.

He thinks though, would Lucas love you like him? Mattheo just wants you to be his, it pains him to know that he can never be with you. You have so much control over him, but you don't even know, he smiles when you smile, he's angry when you are angry, he's sad when you are sad-

Has memorized each detail of yours, made you a constant in his life, fell in love with you all over again, with every smile of yours, with every word of yours, with every hum of your voice, with every movement of yours, he just couldn’t help himself, you took over him, it was inevitable.

Ever since the day you walked into his life, he walked with you, always together. Two worlds of their own, revolving around each other, that was until you found your sun, found someone else to revolve around but he was still tied to you, still circling you and always ended up colliding with him.

...

Why did you have to choose Lucas and not him? He's known you longer, he's liked you long before him, you were his best friend before you were Lucas’ girlfriend but why did he come first in your books?

You turned his world upside down that Thanksgiving day during your sixth year, running to him smiling and blushing, he thought you were about to confess to him but instead, you told him about your crush on Lucas and how you had scored a date with him- all out of the blue, he never saw it coming, who even was Lucas? “Lucas Anderson, he’s in the same year as us, the Ravenclaw perfect!” Then he never heard the end of it.

You with that stupid smile of yours, it was a sickening sight really, he loved seeing you smile but he couldn’t stand to look at it when he knew it was because of your boyfriend. It was as though, he had been replaced, it was no longer “Mattheo this, Mattheo that-” “Lucas! I’ll be wearing this to the party, or should I wear that dress, you know the blue one you love,” hanging off Lucas’ arm, navigating through the mess you and the girls had made in the common room, with those lovesick eyes-

‘Get over it’ he tells himself, but he can’t help the ugly feeling creeping up on him, Mattheo feels like throwing up as the nostalgia surges through him at the sight, you used to hold onto him like that, he silently looks at you, there’s grief in his eyes.

As the days pass by, he realizes how you no longer sit with him, how far you’ve been. And he can do nothing but watch you from a distance, can’t object so he seals his lips together, never mentions it, waits for the sweet honeymoon phase to be over but it never ends...

It’s been five years, and you two are still sickeningly in love with each other, it’s all in his face, he steals a few glances in your direction, can’t spare much more than a few seconds because it pains to look at you all happy in some other guy’s arms, the one who does right by you, the one who never gave you a reason to walk away.

Anderson made it all look so easy, he swayed you off your feet the moment he met you and here he was, Mattheo Riddle, still trying to quantify his unending love for you, he misses you, so he drinks your favourite drink, in the memory of you, you are the star of the night, the centre of the ballroom, too bright for his eyes, too sweet for his tongue, like the wine and rum you drink.

But he savours it, it’s the closest he can get to you nowadays, he’s gotten used to living like this, in pieces, each part seeking you in different ways, some part of him begs to hear your voice, some part of him longs for your touch but he can do nothing about it because Mattheo Riddle doesn’t have the privilege of being loved by you, he’s just another man in the endless sea of your admirers.

Even the silence feels uncomfortable now, he can’t just stick to his old ways, he can’t just silently watch the two of you dance in each other's arms, moving gracefully around the expanse of the shiny floor, he excused himself, a strong drink in his hand. Tears prickled down his face the moment the midnight breeze made contact with his skin, his head spinning with images of you, the memories of you, of the last moments of you with him, the last time you properly talked to him.

Mattheo remembers how you’d clean him up after he was bloodied up during some fight, how you’d lecture him, how soft and careful you were with him. How you’d patiently listen to his rants, helped him with his short-tempered nature, helped him navigate through all the academic stress. He remembers the healing touch of yours, the way your fingers threaded through his hair, massaging his forehead, humming to him as he lay his head in your lap, easing him of the sharp stingy headache, continuing your ministrations until he dozed off comfortably in your lap while you rested your head uncomfortably against the wall.

His heart swells as he reminisces those days, those memories that probably meant much more to him than they ever meant to you, even today’s grief and sorrow can’t stop the fond smile from appearing on his face. He’s been on this journey for so long, he understands this feeling too well, letting his mind wander, smiling at the sweet times till he remembers how it’s no longer in his fate to be in your arms, reality punches him in the gut, old habits die hard- he had gotten into a lot of verbal sprawls at the ministry, it got physical a few times and you weren’t there beside him, instead you were beside Lucas, sending him a pitiful look and that was about it, he had come to expect of you to be by his side whenever things got nasty, you had always been there but now, you were a stranger, were you even there to begin with? The look of pity was so unlike you-

The loud conclusive thump of the band pulls him out of it, out of all the questions, of what was and what could’ve been. He hears footsteps nearing him and quickly walks into the first door he sees. Wiping away his tears, ruining the sleeves of his navy suit, it’s draining him to love you but but but he can’t just fucking stop.

Mattheo didn’t realise what happened in the next few seconds, the door to the closet he was hiding in opened and someone entered the tiny space closing the door after themselves, it was you, damn his unfair fate.

You look surprised as you take notice of him, your hand reaching the door handle shaking it frantically, locked.

You glance down at the handle whispering “Alohomora,” It doesn’t work instead your head feels heavy, and you don’t have your wand on you, you look at Mattheo and then look towards the handle, silently asking him to open the door, “Don’t have your wand?” you shake your head, it’s amusing, the situation the two of you are in, he has his wand with him but he’ll pretend otherwise, he’s gotten you with him after so long, “Me neither and I was never good at wandless magic,” it was a lie of course, but anything to be with you.

It was strange though, why wasn’t your wandless magic working, that too with such a simple charm, he pushed that thought to the back of his mind, he couldn’t focus, not like this, not with you so close to him. Breathing the same sir, enclosed in a tight dark place, it feels surreal, he’s losing it. Mattheo can feel your strong gaze on him, you try to create some space between the two of you, but he holds you close, there’s no space what were you even doing?

You close your eyes at the contact, the touch was cruel, it was intrusive, it felt as though your mind was being probed- it hurt, physically hurt. It felt wrong, it burned where he touched you but there was an itch his touch was scratching, the longer he held onto you, and you started melting, the pain minimising by seconds, it no longer felt like a punishment instead it felt familiar, comforting, knocking you off your alarmed senses. You slowly breathe in, taking in the smell of his cologne and the smell of strong whiskey on his breath and... and- strawberry daiquiri, his hand left yours as you opened your eyes, his eyes were sad, he was Mattheo, your best friend!

Your vision unfocused and focused back again, body aching at the loss of contact, mind blank, veins burning, he looks away for a second and your heart clenches uncharacteristically. There's no actual logic behind your next move yet you do it because you ache for it, you don't exactly know why but you pull his face down and kiss him. He pulls away almost instantly after the initial shock, what the fuck are you thinking?

The light that seeps through the little cracks of the door falls onto your face, lighting it up, making Mattheo gulp at the sight, you look up at him with eyes so unnaturally blown off, hazy and dilated- you tug his collar staring at his lips, Mattheo inhales sharply and bends down to kiss you because, "Fuck it."

He holds your face tightly in his hands, cold metal rings digging into your skin, it's all he has ever wanted, there's no morality to hone here not when he has you right where he wants and why should he care that it's wrong, when you clearly don't? Mattheo kisses you with such fervour that your mind spins, your knees going weak all of a sudden making it hard for them to hold you up and body going numb unable to pick up on the feel of his body against yours, darkness surrounding you even when you shoot your eyes open, you feel yourself sink and then- nothing.

Mattheo freaks out when you go limp in his arms, he mutters a quick spell to unlock the door and pulls you out, making you sit against the door, patting your face and trying to wake you up. “Riddle!”– it’s Lucas, rushing by your side, taking you from Mattheo’s arms into his own, the worry on his face is akin to the one on Mattheo’s but there’s terror in his eyes too as he looks up at Mattheo, “What- What happened–” he just looks back down at your unconscious self, gulping hard at the crease of your brows, easing the tension with his fingers, “I don’t know- I just found her, like this you know...” he lies through his teeth and Lucas shakes his head, not paying any serious attention to the man in front of him when his girlfriend is unconscious in his arms, “I’ll take her back home, don’t worry-,” then Mattheo hears the man mutter to himself, “I hope, she’ll be alright,” Anderson picks her up in his arms, spares Mattheo a quick glance and rushes out.

…

Are you even there-? He tries to be around you, but you always look out of it, never paying any attention to him, in fact you don’t even look his way while he’s out here staring at you, every thought leads up to you, it was tiring and worrisome because you are smiling, so brightly, so close to him but somehow your light doesn’t reach him anymore.

You both work in different departments of the ministry but he always has found a way to be around you, he’ll never stop. Why should he stay away from you? He doesn’t fucking like the fact that you are ignoring him and it’s more annoying because it’s not like you are actively trying to avoid him, you just act like he doesn’t exist, like he's some stranger, there’s no active effort in your actions- he is your best friend for fucks sake the least you could do is treat him like one.

How can he live with such distance from you, you who acts like he’s a nobody, he’s always near you, always around you but somehow you keep straying far away- how is supposed to handle you, the you- who pretends that the kiss never happened, who pretends that you didn’t stain his lips with your lipstick, the woman who tainted him and pretended like she didn’t do it, why’d you kiss him like you love him and then act like it didn’t fucking happen- running off to your happy to go relationship, there was something off, very off about you, you didn’t look bothered in the slightest, it wasn’t like you, at all.

Mattheo couldn’t stand to look at you kiss Lucas as though you weren’t onto him the other night, how can you just move past it?

…

It hasn’t even been a week since the party and his friends are getting ready for another one, he loves them, but he is in no mood to party not after what happened, how would they know anyway- neither you nor him have spoken about it, why’s there no guilt in your actions as you hold onto Lucas?

The party, yes something about ‘the current events that took place, call for a big celebration’ he didn’t pay much attention to his friends, not until they mentioned your name, “They both will love it, especially her-” “I am sorry, what are we celebrating?” he finally took part in the conversation, all heads at the table turned towards him, “She didn’t tell you?” Blaise was the first one to break the awkward silence, “Tell me what?” at this, his friends shared a look, as though he had said something ridiculous. Why can’t they just tell him, instead of asking rhetorical questions? His patience was wearing thin at their silence, he stared at Draco, the closest to him, gaze so intense it compelled the blonde to speak, “Anderson proposed-”

Mattheo was on his feet the next second, he had heard enough, storming off to your department floor, you had some explaining to do. You sure had the audacity to play with him, he never expected such a wound from you.

There you are, alone and working, he walks towards you in vexation, you stand up as you hear his angry feet, he stands in front of you breathing heavily.

There’s no longer a spark in your eyes as you look at him, you are within his reach, yet you feel so far away– your sweet smile is still there but it feels different. “Good afternoon! What can I do for you today?” your voice is polite, and his eyes fall to your left hand, there it is– the sign of his blatant rejection. You kissed him and now not even a week later you are engaged to someone else, he doesn’t get it. Should he be selfish and break the truth to Lucas, have you all for himself? Would you even want that- will you ever fucking choose him? He harshly grips your hand, pulling it up, in front of your face, as if mocking your decision, “what’s this?” he squeezes your ring finger so carelessly, it hurts him that he doesn’t seem to care about your happiness for once, you only smile at him tilting your head to the side, “An engagement ring, sir-” he drops your hand, your words sting but your actions sting more, there’s not an ounce of guilt on your face, you simply look at him as if he’s some rando, who has no place to question you.

Mattheo balls his hands into tight fists, nails digging into his palms, shutting his eyes, bringing the fists up to his forehead trying to soak it all in, it’s nauseating, what happened?! What’s happening- you looked, felt, heck even sounded so different, it was you but then he looks at you a second longer and he no longer sees the eyes he fell in love with. Your mere existence is like poison, spreading throughout his body without his permission, he tried, okay? Tried to get rid of you, tried not to fall in love with you-

You used to smile, and he used to look for the source, capturing the moment in his heart, trying to recreate it, he loved to make you happy. Mattheo doesn’t remember a life where he didn’t love you, he couldn’t just think beyond you once the inevitable happened, you made him happy, you made his life better, and he knows no other way of existing other than being helplessly in love with you, no matter how much it hurts, just tell him you love, even if it’s a lie.

No. Don’t do that, he won’t be able to let go of you, no matter what you do, you send his head spiralling, he just wants you to love him, is that too much for him to ask? You were his happiness throughout the years but why were you withdrawing now? After getting him hooked up, addicted to you, he blames you for this, but he doesn’t- how could he? You are so sweet, the one he loves.

He can’t handle it, it’s stupid to love someone who doesn’t love you back, he looks at the huge blue stone on your finger, and his hand itches to throw the ring out, but he can’t do that, so he walks away from the woman he loves.

‘There’s something special about diamonds no matter how generic. Colours are pretty, sure, but I love the simplicity of a diamond, if someone proposes, I don’t think that’ll ever happen ha-ha-ha, but I’d love a small, polished diamond imbedded in a thin rose gold band. Something fragile, worth the extra care, like this life of ours,’ He remembers your exact words, he had been pestering you near the end of the fifth year to tell him about your future, about your ideal wedding, it was him trying to plan for you, for both of your future together, both of you were tipsy when you had your heart to heart, it was a darn cringy way of doing it but back then he thought you liked him back, he thought it was given that you’d get with him when the two of you grew up, how fucking naïve-

…

Mattheo was tired, he was just existing for the sake of it, going through the endless files, signing here and there on parchments, he hadn’t spoken in the past few days, he held onto his silence, there was no point. “She resigned, honestly, I didn’t see that coming but if that’s what she wants, I support her,” there they were, his friends talking about you, “I mean, Anderson just got a promotion, he makes a lot of money, she doesn’t really have to work,” this was new, something was very wrong, did you really change this much? There’s no way you’d leave your job just like that, Mattheo knows how much you cherished that job, it was your dream job after all. Money was never in the equation before, but why is it such an important variable now? You told him you’d work that job even if you made only a few knuts throughout the year.

“Anderson asked her to leave the job and she just did, she really loves him to do that, he didn’t even have to repeat himself,” Even with Mattheo making much more than Anderson he wouldn’t even think of asking you to leave your job, the one you worked so hard for, the one you tirelessly competed for, nothing made sense anymore. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, had you really given up this easily? What’s going on? He can’t even talk with you without breaking down, he can’t talk to you because it seems like you no longer recognize him, he himself doesn’t recognize you, he doesn’t see you in these choices of yours.

Maybe he doesn’t know you like he thinks he does, you have changed but he still doesn’t find himself falling out of love, why can’t he stop caring? And why can’t he do shit about it?!

...

It’s been days since Mattheo has last seen you, it's night, and he hasn’t properly slept in days, why did you have to steal his peace? He roams the streets like a crazed man, he goes wherever his feet take him and it’s no surprise that they halt right in front of your house, what was he even doing here? You were getting married in a week, time was flying by so fast, and he was running low.

He wanted to tell you to not do it but what will he even say? ‘Don’t marry him because I love you?’ Would you even care- Does he even have the right to say something? Would his words even change a thing? Riddle didn’t come here to cry but he can’t help the tears, he’s a wretched man, he feels helpless, there’s not much his body allows him to do these days. He sinks to his knees for a moment, to shed tears at the nameplate on your door, it’s the name of the woman he loves, the one who is soon about to be an Anderson, taking the name of some other man, the one he could never be. He tries to collect himself and walk away like the coward he is.

Earlier he used to say, ‘at least she loves me in my dreams,’ but nowadays, he doesn’t sleep too well, the dreams don’t come to greet him anymore- his imagination is no longer blissful, the reality is too dark, too etched in his life to ignore, to think otherwise.

He gets up and kicks the trash can in front of your house in frustration, he doesn’t anticipate it falling over and making such a loud sound.

But you are glad, the noise breaks you out of the deep trance you were put in, you wake with a jolt, your heart beating rapidly, and there’s not much going in your mind, you take a second to look around, it’s your room but it looks so different from what you remember, you feel weak, drained. You peek out of the curtains beside your bed from where the sound came, it was Mattheo!

You jump onto your feet and run downstairs, swinging the front door open, you don’t have a single thought in your mind except the one that asks to see him, your heart aches, there’s no other way to describe this painful longing that burns you, you’ve numbed everything out, you don’t feel the cold floor beneath your feet, the sting of the cold air that pushes past you, you just want to be close to him.

The sight of you was like a wound to his chest, the dishevelled state of you, the weakness on your face, the visible lines of despair on your face. You freeze for a second when you see him but then you are onto him, throwing your arms around him, hugging him tight, it all came crashing down when his arms wrapped around you pulling you even closer. There’s unending comfort in his embrace yet it doesn’t take away the sorrow, all you feel is relief surging through your body at his touch, it’s overwhelming, everything dawns upon you, and the mind that had shut itself earlier now begins running a thousand miles a second, you can’t help the tears, there’s no other way of saying that you are not fine, everything feels too real, you feel alive- like you are breathing for the first time in forever. There’s so much left unsaid, untouched but you can’t pull away just yet.

But he can, he puts his hands on your shoulders, examining your face contoured with hurt, but there are no physical wounds he can whisper cures at. There’s just the continuous stream of tears gushing down your face, the ones that wet his shirt, he can only wipe them away. He watches you with such concern, so much worry, you open your mouth to tell him that it’s okay, but nothing comes out, his hands come to hold your face, you try again, ‘Mattheo’ no sound still, only your lips move, your throat burns, you cry again. What’s happening? There are just tears that could give him the answer, but he doesn’t understand, has no clue, your breath hitches again and through your blurred vision you beg him to hold you close.

He pulls you back into his embrace, rubbing your back trying to soothe you, the other hand holding your head close to his heart. Mattheo had always been stupid when it came to you, but it never hurt him this much, so stupidly in love with you, always overtaken by his delusions that if you were with him, he’d never let you feel any pain but now that you were in his arms, eyes pleading, he couldn’t do a thing. He just wants to take away all the ills that bother you, wants to take away all the pain but he doesn’t understand a thing, he begs the stars above to let him understand this silent cry of yours.

There are innumerable questions he wants to ask but he wouldn’t understand so, the words die on his tongue, like they always do when you are with him. This love that had always been silently killing him, hurt him like no other, was now threatening to spill all that was left unsaid into the silence of the night, words protected within the vicinity of his mind, it was overbearing, ready to spill, and it was getting hard to hold onto it.

You release yourself out of his hold and suddenly he feels a lot colder, the cool breeze seeps through the wet patches on his shirt, making him shiver but he pushes it all aside when you hold onto his hand and tilt your head. “Should- Should I take you in?” he hesitates as he speaks, all his focus on you trying to understand whatever it is that you were asking of him, you shake your head and point at him, “My house?” you nod, the frown on your face softening a bit at his words.

Mattheo holds you close and walks you to his house, but you stumble quite a few times for him to just ignore, he silently picks you up, you don’t protest, there’s no point, your mind is hazy, there’s no strength in your limbs, so you just hold onto to him. But the hold you have on him is suffocating to him, he can’t be happy about you being close to him, not when you were hurting.

Gaunt Manor, it's your first time here, he dreamed of bringing you here albeit the scenario was different, it was happy, but the present was sad, in his dreams he’d bring you into the house as his happy wife, but it never worked out, you were entering the residence of the man who didn’t dare to call it his home, it was never warm and welcome, it was just familiar, he doesn’t know how it’s supposed to bring peace to you, how it’s supposed to make you any feel better than the cold outside.

He places you on the couch of the huge living room, mutters a spell and the lamps light up the room, then he’s kneeling in front of you, waiting for you to ask anything of him, a bit disappointed in his inability to make things better. Your eyes are red and puffy, you try to speak again as you look at him instead your mouth runs dry, and you can’t feel your voice, it’s a sad attempt at nothing.

Mattheo suddenly rises to his feet, and an unwanted thought strikes him, you'd rather be with your fiancé in such a moment of vulnerability, “Should I call Anderson?” He doesn’t want to look at you because it’d sting to know that he’d never be your first choice- you are quick to shut his train of thought, you hold his hand and urge him closer, shaking your head, the thought left him as soon as it came, the tears were back, they tell him, that all this has something to do with Anderson and it fucking angers him.

His grip tightens around your hand as you try to pull away once he kneels in front of you, you frown when he doesn’t let go, there’s grief in your eyes, sorrow that he doesn’t get, he sighs lets go but keeps close and looks out for your next movement. You breathe in slowly, chest heaving with tension as you look at your left hand resting in your lap, the blue gem on your finger sending shivers down your spine, it was ugly, the feeling that it gave you, you close your eyes not wanting to look at it as you try to pull it off your finger, your jaw clenches, teeth crushing each other. Several small needles poke at your skin, they dig deep into your finger as you try to remove the ring, you feel the hot blood starting to ooze out.

Mattheo’s eyes dart up to your face, you can't scream, you can't tell him how much it hurts, you can just shake your head at him and cry, tears rapidly running down your face wetting your collar. You go to wipe them instead you make a mess, staining your face with blood, the scene breaks him, you being so helpless.

He wipes off the blood and tears, you don't shoo away from his touch instead you close your eyes and lean into it, biting your lip because the needles are still digging into your skin, his attention shifts to the ring, he tries to pull at it, but you flinch away, he instantly lets go, muttering all the spells he knows, it doesn’t work.

He asks if you can write it all down, you try to hold the quill, but the tremors are evident in your grip, your hands are shaking frantically, and you clench your fists trying to make it stop but it’s fruitless, like all your attempts at taking control over your body.

Mattheo clasps his hands over yours in a reassuring grip, the touch sends sparks through your veins, then you hear screaming, something trying to wake you up, then breathing becomes a manual task, you feel your throat tightening, you start coughing, pulling your hands away from his and cover your mouth.

You taste iron, then the salts from the tears and sweat along the way as you purse your lips. The vibrations of your heart started ringing in your ears, all your senses heightening, making you cower into the couch, it was cold, it was hot, you were being pushed into pitch darkness, and you hear different voices going round and round, it’s Lucas, it’s Mattheo, it’s your friends, all calling your name, you are falling- it's an endless loop you are stuck in. Why should you go through this torture when you did nothing to deserve it? When all he can do is watch, watch you go through all that pain. Lucas is in front of you, smiling and holding a bouquet, of all the flowers you love, you are in a white gown, he’s in a white suit, there are people around the two of you, and you are tied up? There are binds around your wrists and legs, and you can’t move a muscle while Lucas walks towards you bending down to kiss you- and black.

Happens again, he bends down to kiss you, but you don’t- can’t move, Lucas’ shirt gets red, his smile gets even wider as he pulls back, it stretches and stretches, and there’s blood on your lips, on your dress, you try to move but your body doesn’t cooperate, as though it has been paralyzed- “Mrs Anderson,” and it goes black.

Mattheo wanted to be your knight in shining armour, wanted to be the person you’d blindly fall back on but right now, things were different, he felt hopeless, and he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if something happened to you under his watch, he quickly grabbed a piece of scrap parchment and ink, writing to St Mungos, they’d know how to help you, right?

…

He’d always wait for you, even if it takes you an eternity, no matter how many lives it takes, he won’t truly live until you become his, happily his. He’d take anything you give him but he much rather take away all your pain than see you in such agony.

Mattheo sits by your bed, the surroundings worry him more, ghostly white all around, putrid smell of different potions, incoherent yelling from behind the curtains, he can’t seem to secure a private room, no matter how many times he tries, all the wealth and so-called influence seems useless now.

You wriggle and twitch in your sleep, his hold on you never falters, they put you on some drugs, and your body was trying to fight it, it’s been two hours since he brought your unconscious self here, you screamed and cried in your sleep. No one was telling him what was going on, all the nurses did was come ruin your peace every few minutes, pushing a vial of liquid past your lips making your body stiff with tension and then you’d cry, he could feel your skin get hot, could feel the quickening of your pulse.

He was about to yell at some people because why the heck was no one talking to him? They’d spare him a glance and then rush past him, they were hearing him, but they weren’t responding properly, dismissing every question of his with an excuse. You coughing up blood was his last straw; he grabbed the first nurse he saw; he didn’t give a flying fuck that she was an older woman, didn’t care about the nasty look she was giving him, “What’s going on with her?” he pointed to your bed, his eyes were red, tired and frustrated, they turned sombre at her scrutinizing gaze, “Please just tell me,” he was quite literally begging.

The woman walked over to your side, holding your hand, muttering a few enchantments and cutting the ring band off your finger, sighing as she faced Mattheo while checking up on you, “Strong dosage of Amortentia,” “WHAT?” Mattheo was towering over her, yelling, eyes wide with anger, “Yes, an accumulation of over four years-” “WOULDN’T THAT KILL HER?” “You would know-” ”WHAT?!”

” Don’t act so innocent, it doesn’t suit you,” and there it is, the filth that is attached to his name, Mattheo Riddle, son of Tom Riddle, a father he never had, the one who died before he was even born. But it’s the truth, his truth, one he could only wish to escape from. He had always been his son, it didn’t matter if tries to change his name, he’d always be Riddle, and everyone knew him as one. Abandoned by death, he never knew himself- Mattheo as someone who could love or someone worthy of being loved. It was unfair, to be treated as his father’s son, that’s all he could be.

Embraced by fellow Slytherin heirs, not because they still believed in blood superiority but because they were alienated and knew the fate that shone at his feet, for it was the same colour as their own shadows.

Maybe that’s why he fell for you, the first person to smile at him who wasn’t adorned in green.

All his life he had been paying for the mistakes he never made, and had been trying to get rid of the black stains on his name, they were slowly fading but it was hard, to have to constantly prove himself, there was no integrity in their judgement, he always had to walk an extra mile to show them that he was worth it, for years he tried to walk away from the very name he was, a Riddle. But today, he doesn’t try, he’ll gladly be what they made of him, son of the dark lord.

Because the spell is right at his tongue, he very well means it but it’s you that stops him, you sit up on the bed, looking around frantically, he rushes to your side and hugs you tight, sits on the edge of the bed, you wrap your arms around him, crying yet again but this time you call out his name, “Mattheo,” and there’s nothing he could be more grateful for.

And right on cue, the nurse gasped loudly rushing out the small space, realizing something. He looks at you though, in relief, your voice is back, “How are you feeling?” he whispers, distress visible in his tone but he tries to hide it from you, “hurts,” you croak out and it hurts to even talk, you hug him again, his touch was soothing, his presence was made you relax but it was short lived, few nurses rushed to your side, trying to pull you off him but you were crying not letting go, being away from his touch tormented you.

“It’s going to be okay, you are going to be okay,” he presses his lips to your forehead, he himself didn’t want to pull away but he knew no cure, he was dependent on them, he promised you again, there was hope in his words, it was definitive, you were going to be okay, he’ll make sure of it, he squeezed your face before being pulled away, “I’m here.”

They put you to sleep, some things happen right in front of his eyes but all he sees is the grief-struck face of yours, the sunken eyes and he tries not to think of what he had been told, he seals his eyes shut, the way yours are. But the horror is still present, it’s dark after all.

Lucas is there, walking up to you, his white suit turning red as blood drips off him.

Mattheo was about to beat Lucas up. He won’t though, not yet, not until you are breathing properly, and speaking properly. “I’m sorry,” it’s the nurse from earlier, she walks away just as he opens his eyes, “At least tell me what’s going on,” desperation clings to his words, the woman sighs glancing at your sleeping form, she gulps as she tries to find the words, there’s humility in her voice, “someone has been giving her small dosages of amortentia but gradually as her resistance level rose, so did the dosage and there are negative effects to this, the love potion has been perfected so many times, each version stronger than the previous one, the side effects also become worse. Retaliation makes it worse, she tried her best to break free.”

At this point, the woman started shedding a few tears, it was hard to believe such a monster would exist and it was not his son, these wrongs weren’t done by the man in front of her but because of the man in front of her. You should have burned from his touch, but you didn’t, he wasn’t the man he was supposed to be.

‘Antidote side effect- the victim will burn from everyone’s touch except for the supposed true love-’ Infirmary guidebook volume one.

...

You love him?

He is loved back?

There’s so much to feel, it overwhelms him. His chance at a good life was snatched away from him, his love was stolen from him, and he was angry. You were in love with him all this time, he would have never known if it wasn’t for his stupid heart walking up to your doorstep. He can’t bring himself to be happy because you are sad, you are in pain, you were about to die, a few more doses and he would have lost you forever. This dumb fucking love, it’s maddening.

Mattheo looks at you, the red patches on your legs, the scars on your arms, the uneven tones caused by bruises, the side effects, the reason you were covered up all the time. He wanted to knock fucking Anderson out but he dare not leave your side.

He wants to beat himself up for not noticing, he prided himself in loving you, and thought no one would look at you like he did, but what was this love worth when it couldn't save you from all this trouble. What was this pride even about? There was nothing to be proud of, not when he couldn’t see the bright eyes dimming, not when he didn’t see the unusual becoming the usual when he didn’t see constant becoming the story of the past and change becoming the new constant.

He blames himself; he blames all the excuses he gave, that you were doing alright just because he couldn’t put his pride away and just ask you.

He didn’t like that you had to suffer just because you loved him, was his name that cursed? In his dreams, for you to love him, the consequences were always bright. This love isn’t fair, he would’ve died not knowing any of this, the truth would’ve haunted him for the rest of eternity, and he’d forever be stuck in a loop of regret and guilt.

Why couldn’t it be simple? Why did you have to get hurt?

There would be no one left if there were no you, he’ll make fucking Anderson pay, he risked killing you just so he could keep you to himself, this obsession is not admirable, it’s unfathomable to do such things to someone you claim to love.

Mattheo will never be able to forgive himself, not when he ought to be the one who cared and loved you the most.

...

A week later you were on your legs, weak but stable, and both of you were summoned for Lucas’ trial. Your chest swelled when the judge declared a lifelong punishment, Mattheo held your hands in his as Anderson was being escorted out, you knew the reason behind the determination in his eyes, who were you to stop him? You sighed and looked down, it’s not something you could watch though, he gently kissed your hand and reminded you, “He deserves it,” yes, he does, you were still recovering from side effects, and others’ touch still burned. Therefore, Mattheo’s touch was comforting in ways beyond physical, you didn’t want that touch to be corrupted by his blood.

“ANDERSON!” before the man can turn around, Mattheo’s fist meets his face, there’s no stopping this, no spell would amount to the satisfaction the hit gave him. Mattheo won’t be done till death threatens the man, he loved you too you know but he would have never sacrificed your happiness for his, yes, he was selfish, but it never came at the cost of your peace, your freedom.

It was torture, to confine someone, to close all their options, make them braindead, to hurt someone, to steal someone away from themselves, to do all this without feeling guilty, doing it intentionally, over years and still not sensing the wrongs and fucking stopping.

No one tried to stop him, no one drew their wands up, they just watched- a man trying to find compensation for what he had lost, what she lost- he would never find it and Anderson needs to know that no amount of punishment would compensate his wrongs. No amount of begging or apologising would save him, he is what he made of himself. He knew what he was doing, till his blood wore thin, till he saw death, Mattheo won’t stop and for the first time, in the court of law, violence is the answer.

The people see a man they’ve wronged, they see the man they read incorrectly and the man they honoured and it’s not who they thought it was, they stay silent because it’s the only apology they can give.

In this eerie silence, all you can hear is pain, Lucas and Mattheo, the two men in pain but it’s so different from one another, one carries the wound that would heal within days and the other hones a wound of hurt that’d never heal, only fade.

You pull Mattheo away from the unconscious man, there’s only so much pain you could afford to see on his face, you don’t look back as you walk him to the restroom.

Between his legs, cleaning his wounds, not scolding him though, Mattheo smiles sadly, this familiarity strikes at his heart, “I love you,” his tone is solemn, this is what he would’ve lost- has lost, tears swell up in his eyes, Mattheo gently held your face in his bruised hands, with utmost sincerity you whisper those very words back, his lips met yours- in culmination of years' worth of longing, love, all things unsaid and all things lost. Amidst the darkness of all misunderstandings, all the mourning, there is hope, there’s love waiting to blossom, it looms over their wounded hearts, lips on each other like a seal, a promise of healing, there was no better confession you could ask for this love, the one that transcends words.

...

#mattheoxreader #matheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #matheo riddle x reader #slytherin boys #pansy parkinson #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #sorry it took me so long #i have an exam tomorrow but this is important #mattheo riddle

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sadboytournament · 6 months

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ROUND TWO

Propaganda

Read more added due to the length

Anthony Lockwood: (via @its-your-mind)

Simon Petrikov: (via @transgendersimonpetrikov) "...

Simon. Simon is not initially introduced as Simon, rather is introduced as Ice King, an insane and Really out of it "villain". Throughout almost all of the first 3 seasons, you ONLY see him being weird and getting beat up a lot but under all of it is incredibly sad for reasons he can't distinguish aside from crushing loneliness. Until the Christmas special, they pull a COMPLETE 180 on ice kings character and reveal his backstory - and just to shine some light on this, up until this point in the show, Finn is the only CONFIRMED human in the show. All others are assumed to be extinct. Simon's/Ice King's backstory reveals a few things to the main characters and the audience that makes the characters see him in a new, sympathetic light - he was a human antiquarian with a fiancee (named betty) who just so happened to put a cursed crown on his head as a joke to amuse betty. And then boom! He's cursed. Unlike some other, admittedly limited amount of characters, however, after putting on the crown, he does not immediately go insane. It happens over the course of a few years (which in itself implies he has insane amounts of willpower, even still coming through with Ice King given that the crown tells its users to freeze the whole world with themself inside) .

So, he's cursed, and betty supposedly left him, as that's to what he's known. He assumed he scared her and she ran away and doesn't love him anymore, and spends years grieving over that. But in the few years after putting on the crown and before fully losing his mind, he has to take care of a girl after a goddamn war (where the climax is a detonated mutagenic bomb that makes radioactive zombies and shit) that he found crying in the middle of the street. So, if his mental state was already declining BEFORE, it sure as hell is now because he has to wear the cursed crown more and more to protect himself and this girl and the effects of it clearly show every time he puts it on in flashbacks with himself in Clear distress over the effects of it . So after a while he is scared for himself, and, to quote him, "I fear my thoughts are no longer my own". So then he begrudgingly leaves the girl he cared for over the course of several years before he goes fully mad and loses himself. So then aside from some mentioned stuff that happens before his insanity fully sets in (like being hypnotized which surely did not help his already deteriorating mind) and then for a thousand years he's just pretty much Gone.

In season 4 episode 25, "I remember you", he goes to marceline (the girl he cared for, though he doesn't remember that) and asks her to help him write a song to draw in the ladies. I won't go through the whole episode, but the song they end up making is not anything like that - he took over notes and pages from a scrapbook and Marceline found some he wrote before he fully went mad while desperately trying to get him to remember who he was, and they turned the notes into a song. There is a lot of crying from marceline, meanwhile Ice King has zero fucking clue what's going on there and just thinks they're having fun. The entire episode is up on YouTube, and I would recommend watching just to get the idea.

Near the end of season 5, he gets a brief moment of lucidity and return to his former self, and he makes a time portal to say sorry and goodbye to betty, and she jumps through only to discover that without the crown Simon is dying. He says later in the episode that he'd rather Die than go back to being Ice king. She wants to find a way to help him so she gets him turned back into ice king so she can find a way to cure him, with her going insane by gaining magic in the process (by proxy of mms, which is a whole thing itself).

Series finale rolls around, he's finally back, but in a chaos deitys "stomach", which reverted him and betty back to their sane, non magic selves. Their moment is short lived by the "stomach" closing in on them, about to crush them to death. They've seemingly accepted their fates, and embrace before their impending deaths, but they're given a way out, betty staying behind despite his pleas and using the original wish state of the crown to wish Simon safe and thereby fusing with the chaos deity and leaving. The next scene is Simon breaking down and crying where she previously was.

So, 12 years pass between the finale and the spin off, and he's just absolutely tired with everything. Hes a 20th century man frozen in time and thrown into into new world after living 1000 years insane and sad without the love of his life with him and he has to deal with that. He is constantly barraged with people talking about a story he wrote when he was insane, saying that it was great, wishing he'd write more, etc etc. Even saying he was cooler when he was insane. Still grieving betty, he tries to Actually Perform A Ritual That Could Destroy The World just to see her again. It goes wrong and the 2 main characters from the story he wrote while insane pop out of his head. After a bit, he finds out that they're not fiction and instead a universe planted in his head . Their magic was stripped from their world when he was reverted back to himself and since he's wallowing in so much misery he decides to find a way to go Back to being insane and commit the equivalent of suicide and perform ego death once again for people he just met because he felt his life was worth so little that serving any purpose even if detrimental to himself would give himself a meaning to live. Just as he's about to finish this, he finally gets to talk to now-chaos-deity betty, and she gets it in his head that his life is worth living and then sends him off to live his life after an emotional scene of them finally ready to let go of their losses..."

#tumble tournaments #the sadboy tourney #anthony lockwood #lockwood and co #simon petrikov #Adventure Time

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strrwbrrryjam · 26 days

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its funny that i write a post about respecting the female characters of rdr2 then i get recommended a post talking about getting a 'bad feeling' about mary taking advantage of arthur, the exact thing i was talking about

dude she asks you because it's a VIDEOGAME and you're the PROTAGONIST and she's an important character of the PROTAGONISTS PAST that gives him DEPTH - who else is she going to ask, uncle? she's a part of ARTHURS past

and then you're talking about her having some moral high ground when she does? i love arthur so much, but even i can't deny that between the two of them he has no moral high ground, he's an outlaw, a murderer who regularly steals from and beats and kills innocent people, while mary is a society woman

she isn't taking advantage of arthur at all, she comes to arthur for a variety of reasons, one of them being she's a widowed woman with a gambling drunk of a father, a dead mother, a dead husband and her younger brother leaving to join a cult, living in 1899 where women had limited rights and opportunities, especially in matters of finance and property ownership, her options for independence and support were severely contained and another because arthur is actually capable enough to save her brother from a dangerous cult that is planning to kill themselves, to wrangle up her drunk and likely abusive father, to rescue her mothers broach from a moving carriage.

and again, it bears repeating, that this is a videogame and her missions are OPTIONAL

of course, she's going to get mad when you tell her no because you are not only letting her dead mother's broach be sold but also signing her brother's DEATH WARRANT

she is incredibly grateful each time, thanking him profusely for saving her younger brother, she clearly still misses him, still loves him and still very much longs for a relationship with him despite their troubled past and arthur's outlaw status. her saying arthur will never change is more of a way to remind herself that their relationship would not work out, because arthur is still incredibly loyal to the gang that he prioritised over her during their relationship. even when mary asks, no, practically begs for arthur to run away with her from the law, from the gang, from everything, and arthur so clearly wants to, he still prioritised money and the gang over her, when mary doesn't need money, all she wants is arthur.

in the second mission, mary says "if i was fair to you, and a good person, i would have sold you out a long time ago," this is not only acknowledging her own flaws in this relationship, that she hasn't always treated arthur fairly, she's still incredibly loyal to him, as arthur is a wanted man, with a large bounty on his head, she could have him hanged if she truly was unfair to him, but she doesn't. the love she still has for him is still so strong. and arthur even admits to her being right about this.

despite the fact that mary still loves arthur and that the connection they share is still so strong, mary decides to choose herself and gives arthur the engagement ring she had kept in good condition for so long. she's constantly faced with the reality that arthur will never choose her over a life where death is around every corner. she learns that waiting for arthur is futile and damaging to her emotional health, so in the end, she chooses herself. she chooses to stop waiting and sends back the engagement ring (that she's kept for years, in good condition, that she could have sold because it's clear her family is struggling) and sends it back to arthur, a symbol of a relationship that will never find fulfilment. she prioritizes herself, even though it means letting go of the man she loves so dearly.

even though it's incredibly heartbreaking to her, given that she mentions when she's with arthur, the world feels right, she chooses self-respect and empowerment instead. despite the love she still holds for arthur, she decides to value herself and makes a choice that honours her own well-being. highlighting the strength and resilience she has gained throughout the story.

mary is an important character that adds to the depth and richness of the story and to arthur's character. her complexity mirrors arthurs, where she grapples with her own struggles and desires. she is not as one-dimensional as you portray her. dismissing her and portraying her in such a negative light does nothing but show how misogynistic you truly are.

also, the members of the gang don't like her for a variety of reasons, susan suffers from a bad case of internalised misogyny and believes that mary has ideas above her station, dutch sees mary as a threat to arthurs loyalty, only wanting arthur to be loyal to him, john, marybeths and tilly's perception of mary is heavily influenced by the emotional turmoil arthur suffers after interacting with her, because he still deeply loves her and yet the two of them cannot be together due to his loyalty to the gang. it's important to remember that out of all the gang members, abigail thinks fondly of her.

#its frustrating how people will give characters like micah the benefit of the doubt while he is obviously taking advantage of the gang #and sells them out to the law while mary has every reason to sell them out but doesn't because unlike micah #she's loyal and cares so deeply for arthur that she keeps him safe despite her better judgement #yet mary's the bitch #like honey your misogyny is showing and its making you look stupid and ugly #this started off as a response to someones shittake then it ended up into being a full analysis #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 mary gillis #mary gillis #rdr2 arthur morgan #arthur morgan #rdr2 van der linde gang #van der linde gang #strawberry speaks

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measuredingold · 1 month

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to be in love and to be loved

chapter four: all i need

authors note: ...guess who finally came out of retirement ! the spark ( sort of ) has come back and i was finally able to finish this chapter. a loooong time coming. i'm happy to finally get something out, but i'm a bit bummed by this chapter because i don't think it's my best - however, i'm already working on chapter five and i'm very happy with it so far so... get ready for that :) another chapter in naomi's pov, and it's a doozy so hopefully that makes up for the time away ! as always please enjoy and feedback is appreciated !

pairing: noah sebastian x ofc x nicholas ruffilo

masterlist / cross-posted on ao3

word count: 10.2k

cw: ~kissing~, angst, suggestive content, feelings definitely being realized, alcohol, 18+ (minors do not interact.)

Naomi tries to go on like nothing happened that night on FaceTime. She kept her feelings and whatever she realized tucked deeply inside of her, putting on her best smile when the boys came home. They ended up not getting matching tattoos this time around. Whenever Nicholas wasn’t tattooing, and when Noah wasn’t doing something for the band, all three of them spent as much time together as they could.

It slipped their minds, which she was grateful for, because it made her focus on other things and not… that. It was pretty easy to forget about for the most part, just being happy that they were home for the first time in months. It felt like they had been gone longer than three months, and the weight that had been on her shoulders was lifted the very moment they stepped foot into Richmond.

That feeling, the realization, didn’t come back until the first night alone in her apartment. Noah had left two weeks ago, and Nicholas had left earlier that morning, and she felt… empty. Like something was missing – someone was missing. Her feelings consumed her then, so much so that she felt like she couldn’t breathe, eyes prickling with tears because how the hell did she get herself into this?

She feels guilty, keeping this from them but also knowing that she can never say anything. How the hell do you tell your boyfriend that you’re in love with him and your guys’ best friend? This isn’t some fairytale where every ending is a happy one, this is the real world, and the real world always has its consequences.

A part of her is glad that the boys have been busy the last week and a half, their talks being limited to maybe an hour every few days, and texts sent at the most random times. It's given her time to sit with herself and think, and then eventually bring in reinforcements. Someone she's known longer than Noah and Nicholas, someone who she can trust without a second thought.

"Jesus, Mimi." Analise breathes out, and Naomi can already see the crease in her forehead. She sighs.

"I know."

There's a silence that follows that makes her feel uneasy. Analise has always been able to tell her how it is, never having trouble voicing her opinions and calling Naomi out on her shit. This time though... She feels like she's finally stunned the other girl into silence for the first time in her life.

"Does anyone else know?"

"Lis," Naomi sighs again. "The only other people I'd tell would be Noah and Nicky... and I obviously can't fucking do that."

Analise laughs. "If it weren't for me, you'd go to the grave with this, huh?"

"Oh, for fucking sure." She tries to laugh but it fails, and she lets out another deep, aggravated sigh. She brings her hands up to dig her heels into her eyes, a headache already beginning to start at the back of her head. "What the hell do I do, Lissy?"

A beat passes. "Do you want my honest opinion?"

"Well, I didn't invite you over just to bullshit me."

"Girl, I have never bullshitted you once throughout our entire friendship."

"Exactly, and that's why I go to you for these types of things. You always tell me how it is."

"And I always will.” Analise says matter of factly before her words are followed by a sigh. Naomi can see that fucking crease again. "Anyone under the fucking sun can see how much love you have for Noah. I don't think I've ever seen you love someone so hard before."

"I don't think I've ever loved someone like I do him." Naomi replies easily, without much thought. She knew it was true.

"Right," Analise starts before narrowing her gaze at Mimi, her full lips tugging down ever so slightly. "However, I'm not dumb."

Mimi raises a brow. "Huh?"

"Listen," Analise leans back against the couch, holding her hands up almost defensively. "I'm not sure if anything ever happened between you and Nick before you got with Noah, but I wouldn't be surprised. Your chemistry with each other is insane." Her gaze softens now. "And I can tell you care about him a lot, more than a friend should. I think you always have."

Naomi's cheeks flush at Analise's words and she bites down on her bottom lip, chewing on it nervously. Was it so obvious? She didn't think so, but Analise has never lied to her. Not once.

"...What if I told you something almost happened?"

"I'd call you a bitch - lovingly - for not telling me sooner," Analise says without hesitation. "And then I'd ask for you to elaborate on what you mean by almost."

"Almost as in," She drags her words, pulling her legs up onto the couch, "When he tattooed me for the first time, we were talking, and got pretty close. I wanted to kiss him and... and I think he wanted to kiss me, but then we didn't. He mentioned Noah and it kinda... ruined the moment."

Analise stares at her for a beat longer than needed before speaking up, "Did it ruin the moment because you knew that you liked Noah at the time, or did you think there was something going on between Noah and Nick?"

Naomi's eyes widen and Analise waves her off, scoffing softly.

"Girl. Don't give me that look. You know it's true." The girl sighs, as if this is the most taxing thing she's ever had to deal with and leans forward. "I've seen the way Nicholas looks at you… and the way he looks at Noah.” Analise gives her a smile, full lips stretched into a smile. "He's got it bad for the both of you."

"You're just making that up."

"I'm not making shit up. You," Analise points a finger at her and Mimi scoffs, turning her head the other way, "are just in denial at the fact Nicholas is in love with the both of you.”

"No, I'm not."

"Okay. Look me in the eyes and tell me you had no fucking idea Nicholas looks at both you and Noah like you two hung up the fucking stars."

Naomi's mouth opens to argue because that's just ridiculous, he doesn't do that, but nothing comes out. Not even a noise. Her brain then starts to finally catch up and thoughts of Nicholas invade her mind. Her throat tightens, skin heating up and feeling almost clammy, as the realization finally dawns on her. It's as if she's finally waking up after years of sleep, like she's opened her eyes and finally saw what was right in front of her the entire fucking time.

Nicholas wasn't just in love with her, or with Noah... it was the both of them.

"Oh my god." Was all she was able to get out, brown eyes widening as she finally looked back at Analise.

Her friend's face softened, lips pressing together to try and suppress her own frown. "It's so obvious, Mimi."

"Yeah, I fucking know that now." She groans, leaning her elbows against the tops of her thighs, hands rubbing along her face. "Oh my god."

The tightening in her throat doesn't let up and there's a burning feeling behind her eyes, the tears threatening to push through. Her heart pounds against her chest, ringing through her ears. How did she not notice?

The way he reacted to them being together, the way he's been acting ever since... It all makes fucking sense. She - they - are the reason behind Nicholas' continued sadness, the reason why he's been pulling away these last few months. The reason why he needed to suck it up and get over it. Her stomach turns in a way she fucking hates, the nausea coming back as it settles somewhere deep inside the pit of her stomach.

How did she not fucking notice?

With tears stinging at her eyes, she finally looks up to find Analise staring at her, expression pained.

"What do I do?" She breathes out.

"Well... what do you think you should do?"

"I..." With a frustrated sigh she slumps her body back against the couch, hands coming up to rub at her face as the first tears fell. "I don't know."

She probably sounded pitiful, because that's exactly how she felt. What could she even do? It's not like she could call up Nicholas right now and tell him how she felt, how she knew, because there's a whole other person involved. She whines pathetically at the thought of her boyfriend. Yeah, maybe she and Nicholas had feelings for one another and Noah, but what about him?

She feels the couch beside her dip and her stomach turns at the thought of Noah. How would he feel about all of this? There's no telling how he'd react, finding out she was in love with their best friend and him, and said best friend was also in love with her and him. Does he even feel the same?

Her head pounds, a headache coming on immediately, and she curls herself into her friend's arms as she finally lets more tears fall.

"You need to tell them."

Analise's voice broke her out of her thoughts, and she shudders, head shaking against the girl's shoulder.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can." Analise pulls her back, hands coming up to cup her face to force Naomi to stare at her. "You need to tell them, Mimi."

She knows she should. She fucking knows that she should tell both Noah and Nicholas right now that she loves them so much that it makes her sick, makes her stomach twist and turn at the thought of ever being without either of them. A life without the two of them is a life she never wants to endure and... and she thinks that is what's stopping her. She would never be able to live with herself if this is what breaks them, if this is what pushes Noah from them.

She shakes her head in Analise's hold, "No. I can't."

Analise's hands drop from her face, lips pursed. "You're sostubborn sometimes, I can't stand it."

"You don't understand." She wipes at her face to rid herself of the tears that seem to still fall, tucking a few loose curls behind her ears. "This isn't me being stubborn, this is... I can't lose them. Sure, what if me and Nicholas feel the same? What about Noah? There's no telling how he even feels, if he'd even be okay with this." Naomi doesn't miss the way her voice wavers and she feels her bottom lip tremble, a fresh set of tears falling. "Lis, you know I can't fucking lose him."

"I know. I know, okay?" Analise gathers her in her arms again and she falls into it gratefully, face pressing against her shoulder. "I've never dealt with something like this, so I'm sure it's scary, right? The not knowing." Naomi feels her friend smooth down her hair, hugging her closer as she sighed out, "But I still think you need to tell them eventually. They deserve to know - especially Nick. I can't even imagine how he feels."

That makes Naomi's heart break in a whole new way, the realization of Nicholas having to deal with this on his own. Having to watch the two people he loves be together right in front of him and having to keep the way he feels hidden to keep things as normal as possible... because she knows he'd rather hurt himself by keeping them close than losing them for good. She chokes out a sob and Analise holds her closer, hands rubbing up and down her back to soothe her.

"I can't." She rasps out after a few minutes, calming down slightly but the tears still burning her eyes. She pulls back to look at Analise, head shaking. "At least not yet. I just - I can't."

Analise stares at her, hard, lips pressing together before sighing in defeat. A weight on Naomi's shoulders lifts, knowing that her friend won't press her anymore on this. She pulls away, hands sliding from Naomi's back to her arms, rubbing them soothingly.

"God, you’re so... fucking stubborn and really annoying sometimes," Analise grumbles, but there's no malice in her voice, "but I'm also going to be here for you every step of the way. Even if I'm not happy about it."

For some reason this makes Naomi laugh, a bit wet and rough, but she feels more at ease. Her shoulders finally relax.

"Thank you." She mumbles, reaching up to wipe at her face, and she sucks in a deep breath. "I just need to think about it, okay? I know it's not fair to Nicky, I know, but I can't..." Her voice trails off, that same heavy weight against her chest returning. "I don't know how to fucking do it, so I need to weigh out my options, you know?"

"I know." Analise's voice is so soft, so gentle, and Naomi has to try and will away the remaining tears that threaten to fall. "I'm here, okay? I'm on your side. Don't forget that."

Naomi doesn't respond, instead gives her friend a tight smile before leaning back into her embrace. She sucks in another deep breath and buries her face against Analise's shoulder, letting her eyes slip shut.

How did everything get so complicated?

...

"Hey," She tries to keep her voice even, lips pressing together to suppress her smile. "What're you doing on the 17th?"

Noah caught her gaze through the screen, brows furrowing at her question. "Uh... probably practicing. Why?"

"Oh, nothing." She averts her gaze from the screen as her shoulders go up into a nonchalant shrug, the struggle to keep the smile off her face growing harder each second. "Just wanted to know if you were free and wanted to pick me up from the airport at… eight that night."

She looks back at Noah now, full lips pulled into a grin, and he blinks. Naomi can see the wheels in his head slowly turning, trying to catch up to what she just said to him. He blinks again, face scrunching in confusion before it falls to one in disbelief, eyes widening.

“What the fuck.”

Mimi laughs, letting her head fall back against the couch, and Noah says it again, louder this time.

“What the fuck.” She lifts her head to look at the screen again, seeing a wide smile spreading across his lips. “You’re not fucking with me, right? You’re serious?”

“As can be.” She hums sending him a gentle smile through the screen. “I’ve had the tickets for a while, I wanted to surprise you at the apartment but forgot how expensive Ubers are, so I kind of need you to pick me up.”

“I will. I’d never make you pay for that.” She swears his smile gets nugget, laughter slipping from him. “How long will you be here?”

“Just a week.” Her lips dip downward from the smile she once wore, sighing quietly. “I’m trying not to use too much time, but I really wanted to see you guys and be there for the album release. This is huge. I couldn’t miss it.”

She notices the twitch in his lips, the slight drop at the mention of only being there for a week, but he covers it up quickly.

"That's fine. I wouldn't even care if it were just a day," He murmurs, eyes softening. "Just as long as I get to see you."

It's crazy what he does to her, her stomach fluttering so much she truly believes there's butterflies roaming around in there. Her cheeks heat up and her frown turns back into a sheepish smile.

"Yeah?"

"Of course. I miss you."

"I miss you, too."

"And so does Nick. Fuck, can I tell him? He's going to be so excited."

Naomi's heart drops at the mention of Nicholas' name and she has to swallow down the rush of feelings that come to her instantly.

"Yeah, you can tell him. I was gonna text him after I got off the phone with you." She says quietly, bringing her hand up to her mouth to chew at her thumb.

Noah's lips twitch up into a smile and he hums in response, "It's going to be so nice having you here... fuck, Nick's seriously going to be so excited. He mentioned the other day that he missed you."

Oh. Her tummy does that thing again where it's flipping and turning in every which way, and she knows her cheeks are heating up. She swallows thickly, throat drying up, but she does her best to smile back at Noah.

"Did he?"

"Yeah."

There's a short pause before Noah's changing the subject, obviously oblivious to Naomi's reactions. She nods along to whatever he says, trying to focus on her boyfriend and not the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach, her brain screaming at her every chance it could.

She was going to have to tell them sooner rather than later.

Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the crowd around her, slight irritation bubbling inside of her. It was literally eight o'clock at night, a Wednesday night. Why the hell were there so many people? She huffs to herself as she continues to look for a familiar face, and her breath hitches once she finds Noah standing only a few feet away. He hadn't seen her yet, and she suspects he's wearing the same irritated expression that she is, eyes narrowed, and hands stuffed in his pockets as he looked through the sea of people.

Relief washes over his face when he finally spots her and her feet start moving before she even thinks about it, a smile spreading across her lips when he waves her over.

"Fucking finally." He groans out, barely giving her time to reply before he scoops her into his arms. "Felt like I was standing here forever."

She all but melts in his hold, the irritation she had been feeling just seconds before leaving her the moment Noah wrapped her up in his arms. This is what she was missing. The feeling of comfort she had so desperately been yearning for. Naomi sighs as she buries her face against his chest, fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt. She feels his lips brush against the side of her temple, and she can feel the smile spreading across his features.

"That flight felt like it was fucking forever." Naomi grumbles, the memory of the crying baby a few seats behind her filling her mind. "Didn't think I was gonna make it."

"Thank fuck you did." Noah chuckles as she pulls back but keeps her arms around him. Their eyes lock and his smile grows, leaning down to press their foreheads together. "Missed you."

"Missed you." She whispers, eyes fluttering shut.

They stay like that for a beat before Noah's pulling back, looking around them as if he was waiting for someone else.

"Nicky should be on his way back..." Noah's voice trails off and Naomi's skin crawls at the mention of the other, stomach dropping. "Ah! There he is."

Her body turns as she follows Noah's gaze and in between the crowds of people emerges Nicholas, a wide grin stretching across his lips as their eyes meet. Her breath hitches in her throat, similar to how it had when she saw Noah, and her heart pounds against her chest. She stood still as Nicholas finally reached them, arms being thrown around her and her face pressing into his chest.

"There's our girl."

She sputters, the sound being muffled by Nicholas' shirt as he holds her closer, lips brushing against the side of her head.

Our girl.

In a perfect world that was true, she was theirs. She always had been, even when they were just friends. She feels her eyes burn. Knowing what she did now, how she felt for the both of them, what Nicholas felt... She squeezes her eyes shut and lets her arms wrap around his middle, hugging him tightly. She can hear Analise yelling at her in the back of her mind, chanting Tell them! Tell them! Tell them! but she can't. Not now, at least. Not right before the biggest day of their entire lives.

The burning behind her eyes doesn't stop especially when she feels Noah behind her, pressing into her as his arms slip around her and Nicholas, joining the embrace. It feels so right to be wrapped up between the two of them, having just the two of them pick her up from the airport. It makes so much sense, and she lets her mind wander back to that perfect world where this is the norm. Where they meet her here and pick her up, exchanging hugs, I love you, I missed you, and then heading off their home.

God. Naomi loves them so much that it physically hurts at this point.

Nicholas is the first to pull away, but Noah's still attached to her back, chin now resting against her shoulder.

"You're probably tired." Nicholas hums, eyes scanning over her face. She blinks away the tears, thankful none fall, but knows that he noticed the red rimming around her eyes. His brows furrow. "Everything alright?"

She nods, leaning back against Noah's chest. "Yeah. Just missed you guys."

His face softens and she feels Noah's arms squeeze around her gently.

"We missed you, too," Noah hums in response before finally untangling himself from her but leaves an arm around her shoulder. Nicholas reaches for her suitcase. "Nick’s right, you probably are tired and ready to get home.”

Home.

A lump rises into the base of her throat and she blinks away that burning feeling in her eyes, and leaned into Noah’s side, trying to relax in his embrace. She flicked her eyes towards Nicholas who was already looking at her, eyes narrowed slightly, but lips tugged into a small smile. He knew something was up with her, more than just being tired, but she knew he wouldn't press.

Naomi gives him her own smile, small but a smile nonetheless, and nuzzles herself further into Noah's side.

“I should’ve picked an earlier flight.” She says, a yawn soon following after. She was tired, and later flights always leaves her exhausted. It was about eight at night California time, so even later than the East Coast time she was used to. “I‘m exhausted.”

"Well, let’s get you home and into bed, hm?" Noah squeezed her shoulder, and she felt the brush of his lips against the side of her head, eyes fluttering shut at the comforting feeling.

"Yeah." Her eyes open again to stare at Nicholas beside her and then tilting her head up to stare at Noah, chest aching only slightly, the burn behind her eyes slowly leaving. "Let's go home."

…

There had been a lot more people there than she had anticipated, and as she eyed the crowd from the merch table she was currently guarding, her chest swelled with pride. She had noticed the rise of Bad Omens in these last few months, their follower count growing steadily, online forums talking about them and their upcoming debut release more and more. It was almost fulfilling to see it all finally come to light, years of blood, sweat, and tears finally leading them to this very moment.

Naomi knows how hard they had worked for this - how hard Noah had worked for this. She has to swallow down her pride, willed away the burning tears at her eyes as she watched Noah work the crowd. It had to be exhilarating, she thinks, getting the crowd hyped up, hearing them sing back those very lyrics you spent hours on. She can't even imagine what Noah must be feeling right now. Not even just him, but Nicholas, Folio, and Jolly as well. They all look like they're meant to be up there.

She’s so fucking proud.

Her focus on the stage was broken by someone coming up to the table, giving her a timid smile as they pointed to a shirt behind her. She shook herself out of her thoughts and smiled gently at them before reaching for the shirt that they had wanted. They looked young, probably around Folio’s age, and she watched as they handed over the cash for the shirt. She's going by memory now, sorting through money to give them their change and she looks up briefly at the stage.

She freezes, the dollar bills almost slipping from her grasp. Noah had moved from the center of the stage over to the left, where Nicholas had stood, and the sight had something igniting inside Naomi – like there was a fire in the pit of her stomach. Noah moves with a purpose, slinging an arm over Nicholas' shoulder and presses into his side. This shouldn't be doing something for her, because they've always done this, but it's Noah's next move that has her breath hitching ever so slightly.

Noah's twisting Nicholas towards him, leaning forward so their foreheads can press together. She swallows thickly and watches as Noah's hand goes to move to the back of Nicholas' neck, gripping. Nicholas' eyes flutter shut in that exact moment, and she has to press her lips together in hopes for her mouth to not fucking drop open, especially when Noah presses forward again, their noses barely brushing together as he sang into the mic.

Naomi forced her gaze away from the two, heart pounding against her chest and that fiery pit in her stomach not letting up once. She tried to rid herself of those thoughts, lips straining into a smile as she finally handed the change back to the fan who wasn't even phased. They smiled warmly, and if they noticed the slight flush to her cheeks, they didn't comment on it, instead thanking her and walking off.

She let out a breath she had been holding, eyes gazing back towards the stage and felt the relief flow through her body when she noticed that Noah was on the other side now. Thank God, she thinks, letting out another long breath before helping out another fan. She’s not sure she could handle seeing them that close again.

As their set went on, she lost count of the times her mind drifted back to Noah leaning into Nicholas' space, his hand placed on the back of the other's neck to hold him there as their foreheads pressed together. She pushed it as far back as she could while doing her job for the night, but it was always there, unmoving in a small portion of her mind. They looked good together, faces far too close to not be taken as intimate, eyes shut in almost ecstasy... Naomi shakes her head.

Girl, get a grip, she thinks.

She can't get too lost in that thought, doesn't let herself cling on to the what if? of the situation. She hadn't let herself think of the maybe, the mere possibility of Noah feeling the same for Nicholas. She doesn't have to think twice on how her boyfriend feels for her because she knows - Noah never gave her a reason to think otherwise. It's Noah's feelings for Nicholas that she's confused about.

They grew up together. Where Nicholas went, Noah seemed to follow, even long after Naomi had come into the picture and became their friend. She thinks back to long nights spent at their apartment, staying up way too late and passing around a bottle of wine as they talked about their dreams, the future. She remembers how Noah was always staring at her, at the time not knowing the look in his eyes was filled with pure adoration. But she also remembers Noah staring at Nicholas, when he thought no one was paying attention. Not as often as he did her, but he still would. With that same look.

She didn't know it then, but she knows it now, and her stomach turns all the same as it had with Analise a few weeks ago.

"Holy fucking shit."

Folio's voice breaks her out of her thoughts and Naomi turns away from the box she's working on to face her friend, giving him a wide smile.

"Dude!" She all but shouts as Folio bounds his way to the merch table, throwing her arms around him. "That was so fucking sick!"

He slips an arm around her waist, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You think?"

"Think?" Naomi pulls back to stare at him, giving him the most ridiculous look. "Did you not see that crowd? You fucking killed it. They all loved it!”

Folio smiles, big and full of pride, and she can't help but wrap her arms around him again, pulling him back into another hug.

"So proud of you." Naomi remembers the very beginnings of this band, and to think back to where they started up to this very moment makes her a little misty eyed. "Only up from here."

Folio's eyes roll playfully when he pulls away. "Please. The album just came out."

"And?" She laughs now, pinching his arm. "Just watch - in a few years everyone's going to know who Bad Omens are."

"...I hope so." He smiles sheepishly now, head dipping down to hide the hint of flush on his cheeks.

"I hope so too."

Their conversation is cut short when she hears a few loud voices come closer to them, turning her head to spot the rest of the band coming their way. Her stomach drops the second she sees Noah, and she can't help but stare as both he and Nicholas make their way over to the merch table. Memories of them on stage flash through her mind and she has to look away from them, trying to shake whatever thoughts that seemed to float through her mind. She cannot be thinking about that.

But it's so hard, especially with how good they looked together. Noah's hand wrapped around the back of Nicholas' neck; Nicholas' eyes fluttering shut as Noah pressed himself closer... She physically shakes her head this time, trying to will away those thoughts as Noah comes up to her. She tries to do her best to act like a normal human being and not someone who was just thinking about her boyfriend doing God knows what with their best friend.

"So?" Noah's grin is so wide, she's sure his cheeks hurt, and she doesn't stop herself from throwing her arms around him.

"That was fucking amazing!" Naomi all but squeals. "Y'all have always been good but shit... this show was top tier."

Noah pulls away from her just enough for them to lock eyes, his grin falling to something much softer - timider. "You think so?"

She nods, standing slightly on her tiptoes to press her lips to his cheek gently. "Well duh. Of course, I do."

"You're just saying that because you like me." Noah grumbles playfully and she can't help but pinch at his side, laughing when he yelps.

"Oh, shut up." Their eyes meet again, and her gaze softens, arms slipping back around his waist. "You've worked really fucking hard for this and it showed up there tonight. I'm so proud of you."

She smiles up at Noah gently before turning to face Jolly and Nicholas who have finally joined the group, catching their gazes.

"You guys, too. I don't think I've ever been prouder of anyone in my entire life."

Nicholas blushes, face red and looks away from her, mumbling a quiet "Thank you" and busying himself with folding the rest of the shirts she had laying out. Cute, she thinks to herself before she looks at Jolly, who's waving her off.

"Oh, please. Don't go soft on me." But from the faint color on his cheeks as well, she knows he appreciated it.

"So, what's the plan?" Folio speaks up, looking around the group. "Celebratory drinks?"

"You're not even legal yet, dude." Noah teases, resting his arm around Naomi's shoulder.

"Neither are you?" Her, Nicholas, and Jolly say in unison before breaking out in laughter, especially at the pouty face Noah gives them.

"Almost!"

"Yeah, two months." Nicholas snorts, casting both her and Noah a look before focusing back on the shirts. "But I'm down to drink."

"Me too." Jolly agrees. "Nick, Mimi - you guys get this all packed up. The rest of the crew will get everything else. Sound good?"

She meets Nicholas' eyes and nods, giving him a gentle smile before focusing back on Jolly, throwing him a thumbs up. "Sounds good to me."

"The quicker we finish, the quicker we can get out of here." Noah says happily, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before pulling away from her. "Let's get this shit done. I'm ready for a drink."

The three of them walk over to the rest of the crew, beginning to take down their equipment, leaving her and Nicholas alone. This was the first time she had been alone with him since he had been home weeks ago, and her stomach swirls in excitement as she slips into the space next to him, folding the rest of the shirts scattered across the table.

"You did good tonight." She hummed, bumping her hip into his.

"Yeah?" He keeps his voice low, and she steals a quick glance at him to see the sides of his mouth quirking up into a smile. She nods. "Thank you. I had fun."

"You looked like you did." The words fall from her mouth without much thought, and immediately the image of him and Noah on stage plague her mind. She clears her throat. "You guys are really getting the hang of this."

"It's gotten easier." He says with a shrug, closing up a box he had finished. "Still weird having people like... come and see us? Like. Singing our songs and shit. It's weird but nice."

"It's amazing, that's what it is." She pauses her actions to lean her hip against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. "I sound like a broken record but I just... I'm so proud of you guys. You've been busting your asses for years and it's finally paying off."

Nicholas reaches for the shirts she had folded, and her eyes watch his movements, watching as he placed them into another empty box. Most of the shirts have been tucked away nicely and the only things left are some CDs and a few vinyl variants, and a few posters she thinks.

"Thank you for coming and helping out." Their eyes meet again, and she holds in a breath, but doesn't look away. "I was scared shitless for tonight, but it was uh, easier. Knowing you were in the crowd." He reaches up to rub at the back of his neck. "Made it easier for Noah, too."

His words pull at her heart, chest tightening. She made it easier for them. Having her there made the biggest night of their lives easier in some shape or form and she has to blink away the burning in her eyes, lips tugging into a smile.

"I'm glad I was able to make it easier."

They stare at each other for a beat longer than needed and Nicholas' eyes drop, going back to packing up their stuff.

"Ready to haul this shit out to the van?"

She eyes the filled boxes around them, and then the things that still need to be packed up, and internally groans to herself. She wishes they had at least one more set of hands to help out, but everyone else is handling all the heavy duty that she definitely doesn't want to deal with and nods.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

And on the back-and-forth trips she and Nicholas make from the venue to the van, she can't shake away the feeling in the back of her mind telling her that it's going to be a long night.

…

Naomi feels warm all over.

The alcohol courses through her veins as she and Noah throw back their third shot of the night. She makes a face, her chest burning from the contents, and chases the after taste with her mixed drink. Noah laughs from beside her.

"Oh, come on! It wasn't that bad."

She groans and leans into his side, her forehead pressing against his shoulder. "You know how much I hate tequila."

His arm wraps around her, pulling her closer, and she shivers at the feeling of his fingers dancing along her hip and up under her shirt, rubbing the skin there gently. He dips his head down to brush his lips against her cheek, another laugh escaping him. Another shiver ran through her. She's forgotten just how touchy Noah can get whenever he drinks, and after weeks of not seeing him, she's realizing just how much she's missed his hands against her.

"You're being such a baby."

"Fuck you." She jokes, pulling her head up to look at him. He's already staring at her, eyes glazed over and a dopey grin on his lips.

"Didn't peg you as an exhibitionist, babe."

Naomi sputters at Noah's words and the grin on his lips only grows, and she shoves at his chest playfully.

"You're terrible." She grumbles, but there's no heat behind her words, the edges of her lips tugging in a smile as her eyes roll.

Noah laughs, loud and bright, and she lets that very smile on her lips grow.

"But you looove me." Noah all but sings, pressing a very over dramatic kiss to her cheek.

She laughs, half-heartedly shoving at his chest. "Hush."

He pulls back to stare at her, and she almost misses the playful glint in his gaze before his eyes drop to her lips. Her tummy flips and she found herself leaning in, wanting nothing more than to have Noah's lips against hers, but stops midway when she sees movement behind the boy.

Nicholas slips into the spot next to Noah and Naomi can't help but stare, eyes roaming over his alcohol flushed face. Noah feels him right away, a smile stretching across his lips as he turns to look back at him. Her eyes gaze down to his hand coming to rest on Nicholas' thigh and he drops his head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

"Hi Nicky."

His tone was sweet and something about it made Naomi’s chest twist. She tries to not think about that right now, not with her hazy, alcohol induced mind, but she can't help but pull her bottom lip in between her teeth at the sight of Noah in between both her and Nicholas. Her mind goes back to Noah’s arm wrapped around Nicholas, against her own will, and remembers him leaning his head against the others as he sang into the microphone. She squirms in her seat.

She isn’t sure why it got her so riled up, but she quite literally couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way Nicholas’ eyes fluttered shut, fingers working along his bass as Noah pressed against him… she has to press her thighs together to try and relieve some of the heat building up inside of her.

With a shake of her head, she reaches forward to brush some of Noah's hair from his face and she doesn't miss the way Nicholas' tenses at Noah's affection, a strained smile forming on his lips.

"Hi Noah."

"Where'd you wander off to?" Noah's words were slurred, and his eyes open now, lifting his head up to rest his chin on Nicholas' shoulder now. "I've been waiting for you to come take a shot with me, Mimi's being a wimp about it."

Naomi notices the shift in Nicholas' eyes and the way his throat bobs at the close proximity. Her hand drops from Noah's hair to his thigh, gently rubbing, and the boy reaches absentmindedly with his free hand to lace their fingers together.

"I am not." She argues and can't help but huff, eyes rolling. "He gave me tequila when he knows I fucking hate it."

"Oh, man." Nicholas laughs, eyes scrunching. "You know how she feels about tequila, dude. She can't handle it like us - she’s a baby.”

Her mouth drops open, offended.

“Hey!” But it goes ignored.

"Well, I was waiting for you! Then I couldn't find you so," Noah shrugs and lifts his head to look at her. "Mimi was my victim for the night."

"I'm here now." She notices the way Nicholas' shoulders relax, leaning into Noah. His smile isn't strained anymore. "Do you think you can handle another one?"

The mischievous grin Noah gives Nicholas is answer enough and before she realizes it, there's more shots on the table for them - tequila still, much to Naomi's dismay. Jolly joins them at some point, and so does Folio, but they both come and go as they work their way around the bar to talk to everyone. The three of them stay put in their booth, throwing back shots.

As the night goes on, her mind grows hazier and hazier with each shot she takes. She should've stopped, she knows this, especially when they stopped tasting like alcohol and more like water, but it was the only way to calm her nerves. Even in her drunk haze she was able to notice how handsy Noah was tonight.

Perhaps it was the tequila making him this way, and maybe it was because they hadn't seen each other in so long that he needed to touch her in any way that he could, but it was driving her crazy. His hand would inch higher every few minutes, fingers dipping into the exposed flesh of her thigh. Every time she'd feel his nails dig into her skin she'd squirm, pressing her thighs together to relieve some of the pressure building up.

She moved her focus from the hand on her thigh, to try and regain some kind of normalcy in that brain of hers, and found Nicholas staring at her. Well, not exactly staring at her but... at Noah's hand on her thigh, inching upward every few seconds. His tongue darts out to swipe over his bottom lip and then his eyes flick up towards hers, widening for a second when he realized he had been caught.

Her breath hitches and she just can't seem to look away, and neither could Nicholas, and it wasn't until another squeeze on her thigh from Noah pulled her away from those hypnotizing eyes.

"-huh?" She says dumbly, looking over at Noah. He had said something, but she didn't quite catch it, too preoccupied. Noah laughs. If he had noticed her staring at Nicholas, he didn't comment on it.

"Just said I don't think I've drank this much in... forever." He hums, head leaning on her shoulder. She relaxes and leans into him, head turning to brush her lips against the side of his head.

"Same." She groans, eyes fluttering shut. "Don't think I've ever drank so much tequila in my life. You two are evil."

She hears both Nicholas and Noah chuckle at that and she smiles, opening her eyes again to look between the two. It was nice to be there with them, reminding her of the days spent in their apartment with their cheap, shitty wine. Her stomach turns, chest squeezing at the memory, and she feels herself almost yearning for that. Back when things didn't have to make sense and she just loved being around them.

If only things could be so simple.

"Yeah, it's been a minute since I've drank this much." Nicholas says while scratching at his neck, a light flush covering his cheeks. "Think I need to slow down."

"Fuck. Same." Noah's quiet for a moment before he laughs, picking his head up to look at Nicholas. "Remember that one night? Like... two years ago?"

Nicholas raises a brow at him. "You're gonna have to be more specific there, man."

"Davis' birthday? We almost drank damn near everything by ourselves."

Naomi sees something shift in Nicholas' eyes, the redness on his cheeks becoming more and more apparent as time passes.

"Oh yeah." His voice is clipped, jaw twitching. "I remember."

Her eyes narrow between the two boys, not understanding the exchange. He seemed... she wasn't sure what he seemed like, but the only thing she could describe it as is tense. Just like he'd been for weeks. She doesn't remember the last time she'd seen Nicholas relaxed for more than an hour; doesn't even remember the last time she didn't notice the lingering sadness that floated around in his eyes. She frowns at him, and he shifts his gaze, looking back at Noah.

"That was fucking crazy." Noah slurs, then turns his head to look at Naomi. "Have I ever told you about that night?"

She shakes her head. "Nah. All I remember is that you guys were miserable the next day. Kind of glad I had to miss it for work."

"You should be glad. Davis almost killed us." Nicholas grumbled and Noah laughed beside her.

"I only remember bits from that night, if I'm being honest." He starts, and then turns his focus back on Nicholas. "Didn't I kiss you?"

"Pardon?" She feels like her eyes are about to jump right out of her fucking head, heart pounding against her chest. Noah looks at her again, head tilted. "Back track. You guys kissed?!"

"Almost." Nicholas' eyes are just as wide as hers and he's quick to answer, head shaking. "Almost kissed. I think I stopped him. Or… maybe Davis did? Actually, I think he ended up tripping and stopping himself.”

Noah's laughing again, all happy and calm as if he didn't just drop the biggest bomb in the history of ever. Naomi's heart slows down, only slightly though, because they didn't actually kiss. For some reason she finds herself being a tad bit disappointed by that.

This is not helping her earlier thoughts one fucking bit.

"Oh yeah! I did trip, but I think Davis was going to stop us, anyways."

Naomi's eyes flick between them in silence as her mind goes into overdrive, every possible scenario running through it. Noah and Nicholas almost kissed. Touching and kissing and the sweet, sweet noises Noah would be making because she knows how much the boy loves kissing and...

The tequila is working overtime tonight because her mouth moves before her mind can even catch up.

"Me and Nicky almost kissed once, too."

It was Noah's turn to look at her like she was crazy, brown eyes wide in surprise. Nicholas looks... terrified. All the color has drained from his face and part of her feels bad, like she should have asked him if it was okay to bring it up, but Noah had brought up their almost kiss. Why couldn't she? It's not like they actually did kiss, just like them.

Even if she wishes they had.

"When?!" Noah practically shrieks, and if it weren't for the music and other conversations going on in the bar, she's sure everyone else would've heard them.

She shrugs. "Uh. When he tattooed me. The first time. Forever ago."

Noah's mouth parts and looks at her, and then at Nicholas, then back to her again.

"Wow..."

Her stomach swirls with nerves and she's sure he's just shocked and not

angry, especially when the way his grip has not loosened on her thigh one bit. She's more nervous about Nicholas, gazing up at him but he's already looking at her. She feels hot under his gaze, and there's something behind the look that she can't fucking read and it's driving her crazy.

"That's..." Noah starts again but stops, throat moving as he swallows, blinking between the both of them again.

"It was forever ago. Before you guys were even a thing." Nicholas says quickly, placing a reassuring hand on Noah's thigh.

Noah just nods, dazed, and maybe it was the alcohol catching up making his reaction this way - whatever this way is - but the way he's looking at them... Naomi chews on her bottom lip, her hand finding Noah's that was still placed on her thigh.

"Are you upset?" She questions, fear rising inside of her.

"No." He's quick with his response, turning his full attention to her. "I'm just... thinking."

"...About what?"

"I..." Noah pauses, tongue darting out to swipe across his bottom lip, eyes shifting between both her and Nicholas. "I think you guys should kiss."

She freezes, the hand she had on Noah's thigh digging into the fabric of his jeans. Her eyes dart to Nicholas' and she's sure they have the same exact look on their faces - eyes blown wide, lips parted, staring at Noah like he had three fucking heads because... what the fuck?

Naomi notices the way Nicholas shifts uncomfortably in his seat, lips pressed in a line as his eyes dart between her and Noah. She catches his gaze and holds it steadily, trying to ask him quietly what the hell do we do? without actually saying anything. His jaw twitches, and then he swallows, and tears his gaze from hers to look at Noah.

"Isn't that... weird?" He starts, voice rough. He clears his throat. "You're dating."

Noah doesn't say anything at first, his blown-out eyes staring at the two of them sitting either side of him. Naomi's eyes drop to Nicholas' hand that's still placed on Noah's thigh, and then to her own hand that's wrapped in between her boyfriend's. Her stomach swirls, heat builds up inside of her just at the very image of Noah pressed against the two of them, and she's reminded of their interaction on stage. She bites down on her bottom lip and squeezes Noah's hand, causing the boy to look at her.

"I wanna see it." Noah's words are slurred together, and she's reminded that the boy is very much drunk, as are her and Nicholas.

"Noah, babe, I don't know-"

"Please." He cuts her off and his words are desperate, voice edging on a whine as he stares at her with wide eyes. "It's okay. I... I wanna see it."

Both her and Nicholas share a look across Noah, and she's sure they're both filled with uncertainty, but she can't help but want to do it so badly. Especially now that Noah is asking for it - practically begging. He wants them to kiss. He wants to see it. Why? She's not sure, but God does she want it.

And with the way Nicholas is staring at her, it's safe to assume he wants it too.

"Okay." She says slowly, peeling her eyes away from Nicholas to look at her boyfriend. "As long as you're okay with it... and Nicky is, too."

Noah looks at Nicholas expectantly and she sees the older male swallow, eyes bouncing between the two of them before he nods slowly.

"Yeah." He clears his throat. "Yeah, I'm okay with it."

Great. Cool. Fantastic.

She swallows the lump in her throat, anxiety climbing its way through her as the two of them shift around to get into a much more comfortable position. Noah stays between them, watching with eager eyes, and Naomi doesn't dare take her hand away from his, his touch keeping her grounded.

What the fuck is happening? He has to realize how crazy this is, right? He's just drunk. He would never let this happen if he was sober, thinking more clearly. Though, her mind drifts to the saying of drunk words being your sober thoughts, and her body heats up just at the mere thought of Noah thinking about this before.

She sucks in a shaky breath as Nicholas leans towards her, his forehead pressing against her own. Noah's hand squeezes hers, his thumb sliding against her skin reassuringly, but the nerves in her stomach won't quit.

Her eyes flutter shut the second their lips meet, and she can't stop the gasp that seems to leave her. His lips were soft, not as soft as Noah's, but much softer than she ever expected. They both don't move at first, just sit there with their lips pressed together, until she feels Noah's hands squeeze hers again. She moves first, lips dragging across Nicholas' and she physically shakes at the noise he makes, a groan from deep inside his chest. He reaches up with a shaky hand to cup the side of her face and she wraps her free hand around his wrist, keeping it there as their lips move together.

Naomi swears her heart is about to burst out of her chest when she pulls away from Nicholas. Silence surrounds them as their eyes open and her breath catches in her throat, lips still buzzing from the kiss, and she so desperately wants to lean back in. She doesn't though, instead her tongue darts out to swipe across her bottom lip and her entire body heats up as Nicholas' eyes follows it, before dragging his eyes back up her face.

"My turn." Noah's voice pulled Naomi's gaze away from Nicholas, looking into her boyfriend's wide, brown eyes. He looked just about as dazed as she felt, his skin flushed pink from the alcohol and possibly something else. He purses his lips into a pout. "Please?"

She smiles easily, her hand that was resting against his thigh coming up to cup the side of his face. Noah melts into the touch instantly, turning his head to nose at the palm of her hand. "Of course, baby."

They fall into each other naturally, Naomi's lips finding home against Noah's. It felt right - like it always had. Even in her drunken state it still felt as if this was where she was supposed to be, and with Nicholas being so close, her heart nearly jumped its way out of her chest at just how perfect everything felt. Like he was always meant to be there, with them.

Noah's kisses are desperate, a bit sloppy, something that tends to happen when he drinks, and Naomi's hand falls from his cheek to the back of his neck, fingers working through his hair. She tugs gently, a silent way of telling him to relax, breathe, and the whimper he lets out against her lips goes straight to her core.

Fuck.

They pull a part and Noah already looks wrecked, lips red, shiny, and swollen. His flushed face even darker now, eyes dilated like crazy. He looks like she could tell him to do anything, and he’d do it, simply only to please her. She smiles sweetly at him, gently scratching at his scalp and leaning back in to press a kiss to the side of his mouth.

"Was that good enough for you?" She teases in a gentle voice when she pulls back.

Noah nods but doesn't say a word, staring at her for a moment before he glances off to the side. Nicholas sits beside them quietly, patiently, but with the same blown-out, flustered gaze Noah has. She's sure she looks similar to them, a slight twinge of color to her cheeks, eyes wild. She swallows.

"Nicky," Noah hums from beside her, shifting his body towards Nicholas'. Her hand falls from his hair and back to his thigh. "Can I kiss you too?"

He says it so gently, with so much care, that Naomi's heart clenches beneath her chest. Noah looks back at her for a moment, eyes wide now with a bit of fear, silently asking permission and she nods. Of course, she does, because why would she ever deny him of this? She sees it now, sees what Analise had been trying to tell her just mere weeks ago.

If these boys haven't noticed it yet, they will soon.

She looks at Nicholas now, seeing the hesitancy behind his eyes and she gives him a nod as well. She watches his throat bob as he swallows before his gaze lands on Noah's again, giving him a timid smile.

"Is that what you want?"

Noah nods, a little too enthusiastically that Naomi has to hold back a laugh. "Yes. I want it."

Another glance is shared between Naomi and Nicholas and the older boy nods to himself, as if preparing for what's about to happen.

"Okay."

At first no one moves, and Naomi watches the two boys expectantly as they stare at each other. Noah's gaze falls to Nicholas' lips and his tongue darts out to swipe over his own before a whine pulls itself from his chest and he's reaching out, fingers curling around Nicholas' shirt to bring him closer. Nicholas lets him do it, eyes shutting as their lips finally meet and Naomi freezes. She doesn't move, doesn't even fucking breathe, but watches both boys kiss in front of her.

Noah whines against Nicholas' lips, desperate and borderline pitiful, and Naomi's thighs press together. The noise travels straight to her core and her fingers dip into Noah's thigh, her grip tightening. She watches carefully as Nicholas brings a hand up to Noah's cheek, cupping his cheek like had done hers moments ago while the younger trying to deepen the kiss. Their lips slide together messily, hungry for more, and the only thing she can think of right now is how good they look together and how she desperately wants to be between them.

She has to push the thought of her lips sliding across Noah's, Nicholas behind her and his lips attached to her neck, so far to the back of her mind or else... she's not sure what she would do. But whatever it is she can't do it, especially here. In a very public place. Her heart rate picks up just at the thought of someone catching them and almost as if they could feel her distress, the two boys finally part.

Nicholas looks at her first, eyes darting between her and Noah. She swallows at the sight of his hand still placed against Noah's cheek, thumb brushing against his skin.

"Happy?"

Noah nods in his hold, dazed, and at a loss for words. Nicholas smiles, small, but soft, and it's the smile she knows that he's saved for only them, and the quick pace of her heart slows down for just a moment. This feels right. The thought doesn't scare her as much.

Noah finally looks at her, hooded eyes and a dazed smile settling on his lips, and she can't help but reach forward, pushing some hair out of his face and tucking it loosely behind his ear. He turns his head slightly, pressing another kiss against the base of his palm and her heart squeezes beneath her chest. She feels Nicholas' eyes on her, and she turns to look at him.

Two things happened at that moment.

She notices the exact moment of realization flash through Nicholas' eyes when they finally meet hers, and she watches them widen. She's not sure what exactly he's realizing, because she thinks he's known about his own feelings for some time now, but perhaps... Perhaps he's realizing that he's not the only one in this. That he’s not alone.

She can only hope, though.

The soft realization is soon overtaken by another, eyes widening even more, and her skin runs cold. The softness is gone and now replaced by fear, and his face drains from any color. His hand drops from Noah's cheek and scoots away from him, trying to put some distance between the three of them.

He's panicking.

"Nicky..." She starts, sobering up quickly.

"I'm okay." He sounds anything but and pushes himself up and out of the booth. "I'm okay. I just - I need air."

Noah stirs beside her, and he scoots closer to the edge of the booth, trying to reach out for Nicholas. "Where are you going?"

Nicholas looks down at him, and then her, and his expression is pained, like he's battling with himself internally. Naomi's heart drops.

"I'll be back, okay?" He rushes out, giving Noah a quick and very strained smile. "I just. Need air. It's hot. I'm drunk. Not a good mix."

And then he's gone, pushing his way through the crowd to get as far away from them as he could. Naomi feels like she could cry, the moment sobering her up too fucking much because the moment was finally catching up to her.

What the fuck did they do?

"Is he okay?" Noah's voice breaks her out of her thoughts, and she blinks away the tears she hadn't realized were building up, looking towards her boyfriend.

"Yeah." She says, but she feels like it’s a lie, and reaches forward to smooth some of his hair back. "Just needed some air. He'll be back."

That seems to be enough for Noah, his shoulders dropping in relief and a satisfied smile stretches across his lips. Naomi tries to smile back, but she knows it doesn't reach her eyes and she leans forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Let's get some water, yeah? I don't think we need any more shots."

He agrees easily, letting her drag him through the crowd to try and find some water, and they eventually bump into Jolly and Folio on the way. She tries to act normal, even when Jolly asks where Nicholas ran off to, but he seems to be satisfied when she tells him that he just went outside for a breather, he'll be back. No one questioned it again, even when they didn't see him for the rest of the night.

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fic #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #nicholas ruffilo x ofc #noah sebastian x ofc #mine

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seananmcguire · 11 months

Note

Hi Seanan! I recently threw some more of your creatures into the my DnD5e-ish game I'm running- I homebrewed a Cait Sidhe race, and let my players rescue a colony of Aeslin Mice (redubbed "loremice," so I don't have to figure out what "Aeslin" means when my players ask.) The mice have so far named a God of Smokey Rescue, a God of Deceptive Size, and a God of Ominous Declaration. :)

I realize I could make up whatever rules I want for their specifics, since it's my game and I haven't gotten my players to read your work yet, so they wouldn't notice any inaccuracies. But I think it'd be cool to portray them as accurately as possible to the way you see them.

So! If you're willing, I have a couple questions!

1. Do you know what the rough ratio of Shadow Roads distance to not-Shadow-Roads distance is? I'm homebrewing a spell for the Cait Sidhe Shadow Roads thing, and I'd like to give my Cait Sidhe player some hard numbers to work with when they wanna push the limits of their range.

2. For the same player, can you share what the Shadow Roads look like to a Cait Sidhe? We can assume Tybalt isn't as blind as October is in there, but I can't remember her ever asking him precisely how he navigates.

3. I was gonna remove the Aeslin "God/Priestess" gender distinction for my loremice, because the women at my table would have questions and I wouldn't know how to justify it. I don't expect you'd mind much, but it feels mildly disrespectful to the source material anyway (like, what if I'm just using this as an excuse to remove it, because I dislike this Aeslin habit myself?). So I'm torn. Do you know an explanation I could give my players to make sure they don't mistake the mice as sexist?

3.5. I was also considering a compromise solution to this. I'm considering making all the player characters "Gods" to the mice initially, then having the mice switch to using "Priest(ess)" to refer to PCs who converse most directly with the mice, who make the most effort to force their way past the HAILs and be treated as equals. I'd have them act slightly more casual and less reverent to the Priests and Priestesses, make it easier for them to hold productive conversations with the mice than it is for Gods. I felt this could pay enough homage to your work to alleviate my baseless guilt, while beating the potential sexism allegations. And since I have you here on Tumblr, I wanted to get your input on it- is that uncomfortably far from your vision of Aeslin Worship?

If you can't answer any of these, either because they feel spoilery or because you haven't canonized answers to them in your own head, that's fine! I can figure it out. But you've found time for my Tumblr asks before, so I figure I may as well run it by you.

Maybe I'll add Cu Sidhe as a playable race next... if my players are mature enough to handle how I believe it's pronounced, haha.

This is all very neat, but I started my numbered list before I said that, and can't get out of it!

About 1:10.

The Shadow Roads are absolute blackness even to the Cait Sidhe. They're just a little warmer/it's possible to breathe there, if not comfortably. They navigate by feel, and generally "know" when it's time to exit to the "real world" again.

It's not disrespectful to the source material, honest. The mice who live with the Price family, whether Portland or Penton Hall, are still operating under a foundational commandment that Beth Evans didn't know she was giving, when she told them they couldn't set her above her husband, who they had already declared a god. So the mice aren't sexist, because they barely comprehend human sexual dimorphism: they're just following the orders they were given when they were first adopted by this particular liturgical tradition. A colony that hadn't received that commandment could pick any other set of titles. As a rule, you will have two: one for people who are worshiped but not listened to, and one the other way around.

That works!

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nitpickrider · 6 months

Note

a bit silly, but if you had to fill an Avengers roster, who would you pick?

Wooof, oh me oh my. Let's lay down some ground rules before I do this. 1). Only people who have been Avengers at some previous point in time. Doesn't narrow it down a LOT but this list would be a jigsaw of my favorite Z-Listers otherwise 2). Limiting it to seven people. That's the magic number with superhero teams and it gives me a reason to stop

Steve Rogers, AKA Captain America: Sometimes you just cannot beat a classic and when it comes to Avengers line ups there is no one that I think is more integral than Captain America. The pathos that he brings to the table no matter what character he is interacting with is palpable and reading through his first big volume has given me a deep respect and love for the character. He's our leader for sure, the axis of solid, steady service I can hang my weirder picks on.

Dr. Walter Newell AKA Stingray: You all saw this coming and don't act like you didn't. One of my favorite if not my FAVORITE Marvel Characters of all time. He's a doctor with an interesting specialization. His "I'm only a part time superhero" hangup is even funnier and more interesting if forced into the limelight on THE hero team. Not to mention he comes with his own swanky Hydrobase we can use for an HQ and with his wife and four kids running around underfoot we have the kind of domestic adorability I think any good team needs.

Miguel Santos AKA Living Lightning: The first time I can ever remember reading about a comic book hero being gay, as just like, part of who they are. A tiny detail in their rich inner life. Not to mention the less respect a character gets the more I want to lift them up on my shoulders. He could be the sweetheart with a little chip on his shoulder from not getting the respect his objectively awesome powers objectively deserve.

Angelica Jones AKA Firestar: Something you may not know about me. The first piece of media that really opened my eyes as to the potential and depth and scope of the Marvel Universe was Spiderman and His Amazing Friends. It was cheesy, it was cheap and yet Angelica was the first character that I felt SPECIAL for knowing and caring about. She's happy, she's passionate, her simple classic costume kicks ass and the New Warriors need their goddamn respect. 'Nuff said.

Sersi, Just Sersi: What little I have seen of this character fucking FASCINATES me. This woman is chaos incarnate. It's like she is actively making on the fly decisions with everyone she meets whether she's going to kill them, screw them, turn them into a small mammal or some combination of the three. She's *Instant Plot Complication Just Add Water* because she saw a butterfly and that somehow translates to her blowing the entire team's cover.

Dane Whitman AKA The Black Knight: I love everything about him. I love his vibe, I love the fact that his backstory is built partially around recontextualizing the lore of a mostly forgotten Atlas fantasy comic. I love that he has a wickedly evil cursed blade that comes with the side effect of basically holding him hostage to a heroic moral code. And on top of that he's a dorky intellectual who can't see a social cue if it's blaring at him from oncoming traffic.

Jennifer Walters AKA She-Hulk: ...I do not feel the need to explain or justify this choice. YOU know Jen is awesome. *I* know Jen is awesome. She-Hulk does not need justification. She shows up in stories and makes them better by existing. Also yes this is the bodytype I'd use. Yes, I have an addiction. No, I don't feel the need to explain that either. RESERVISTS: Characters I really like but either don't know enough about or don't think they make good Avengers

Marc Spector and System AKA Moon Knight: One of my favorite dudes but does NOT play well with others. Was interesting for about 10 seconds as a member of the West Coast team but I'd prefer he never touch the ranks again.

Flint Marko AKA Sandman: Marvel did Sandman fucking dirty by never letting him fully reform and be the good guy. I want Sandman to be the good guy dammit

Maria de Guadalupe Santiago AKA Silverclaw: I know literally nothing about her outside of reference books but her powers are dope and I dig her vibe.

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mahs-dumpster · 13 days

Text

Bilingual.

a/n: I don't have what to say uh anyway this came to me randomly while I was thinking of another totally different idea but it didn't make sense for Daisy I don't think so ┐⁠(⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠￣⁠)⁠┌ anyways

cw: oc x canon (Ruggie x Daisy); probably most likely horrible french translations I limited myself to like, 1 word, 2 names and 2 small phrases just to not fumble this more than I could but idk it probably is terrible yeesh

setting: after book 6; Rook and Daisy have been stablish to talking fully in french with each other

Words: 830+

🏷️: @viilpstick @justm3di0cr3

Dividers.

“How long are you going to be upset at me?” Daisy sighed, staring at her boyfriend who was just sitting down beside her on a bench, playing with a dandelion he found. “I already told you, I don't like Rook, do you not trust me?”

Ruggie stayed quiet for a moment, before mumbling something. Daisy asked him to repeat it and he clicked his tongue, looking at her with his eyebrows furrowed.

“I do.” He said. “But I don't like how you're able to speak your native language with him and not me.”

Oh. That's the problem? Daisy chuckled, hand covering her mouth and Ruggie pouted.

“Ya think this is funny?”

“A little bit, yes.” Daisy looked at him with a soft smile, petting his head as if petting a dog for being a good boy. “I can teach you a bit of french. Just some words or phrases.”

“Really?” Daisy didn't imagine Ruggie would get actually excited about the idea, tail wagging fast as his eyes seemed to shine. “Then what can ya teach me first?”

Daisy let out a small giggle before she started to think. Let's see… what was a good phrase or word she could teach him?

“Hyène. Repeat it after me.”

Ruggie rolled his eyes, able to recognize the word as soon as it left her mouth. He tried to pronounce it but his accent was plenty strong, making him have difficulty. Daisy shook her head, pointing at her lips and telling him to look closely at how she moved her mouth, then, she spoke the word slowly, trying her best to exaggerate the movements so Ruggie would have an easier time. Ruggie tried again, and Daisy clapped her hands, making him laugh.

“See? Easy.”

“That was one word. Also congratulations on being so original.” Daisy stuck out her tongue for him childishly. “How can I say your name?”

“My name?”

“I still can't pronounce your given name no matter how hard I try. So teach me.”

Daisy's face went a bit pink, she scratched her neck, a bit embarrassed, before nodding and telling him to look closely as she spoke her name.

“Eléa Carbonneau.” Ruggie frowned, and Daisy laughed. “Alright, one more time, slower: Eléa. Carbonneau.” Ruggie stared at her lips for a long time, making her a bit shy, but she tried acting as if it didn't affect her.

“Elea–”

“The ‘e’ is more accentuated, my love.”

“Eléa.”

“That's it.” She smiled at him. “Now my last name: Carbonneau.”

“Car– why is your name so difficult and long?”

“Just repeat it.” Ruggie rolled his eyes, asking her to say it one last time, and she did, slowly, until Ruggie nodded and tried:

“Carbonneau.” His pronunciation could get better, especially where he needed to accentuate the tone, but it was good for a beginner, and she was happy that one of the few words he learned is the right pronunciation of her name.

“That's it! You got it!” Ruggie playfully bowed as Daisy pretended to cheer, telling him how good he was for a beginner, and he gave her that sweet and wonderful laugh of his, making her heart flutter. “Is there anything else you want to know?”

Ruggie pondered for a moment, before his cheeks went red. He looked at her as she tilted her head curiously.

“How can I say ‘I love you’?”

She froze. That's what he wanted to learn? ‘I love you’? She fidgeted with her fingers, trying to ignore the embarrassment and how fast her heart was beating, and slowly said:

“Je t'aime.”

Ruggie stayed a moment looking at her, staring even, and gave her a smile.

“How can I say ‘you’re mine’?”

Daisy chuckled, looking away embarrassed, but still said:

“Tu es à moi.”

“Your language is quite dramatic, flower.”

“That's because you're making me say dramatic things.” She laughed and Ruggie followed, they ended up laughing for a while, both a bit embarrassed but happy nonetheless. After Ruggie dried a tear that had fallen from how much he laughed, he looked at the girl who was still giggling, and tried:

“Je t’aime.” Daisy immediately stopped, looking at the boy in shock. He pronounced it incorrectly, but she understood what he meant. “And the other was…?

“Tu es à moi.”

“Tu… es à moi?” He laughed, yet his eyes didn't leave hers, and Daisy couldn't help but stare, her heart beating faster than ever. “It's a bit dramatic, but I like it. Next time you see Rook tell him you belong to me.”

Daisy smiled, her hand moving to caress his cheek. He leaned into her touch, kissing the palm of her hand.

“I don't think he’ll care but… alright.” Ruggie looked at her for a moment, before reaching for her hair, and making the dandelion he had been holding stuck to it, behind her ear. Daisy touched the flower, her other hand falling to her lap as she smiled at her boyfriend.

“There. Now everyone will know you're already taken.”

“I don't think that's how it works, Ruggie.”

“Oh shush, let a man live.”

#💌! daisy #💌! mah writes #twisted wonderland ruggie #ruggie bucchi x yuu #yuu twisted wonderland #twst yuu #twst oc #twst #oc x canon #twisted wonderland #💌! daiggie

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moodymisty · 7 months

Note

Hello, I hope you are doing well. And summer ends on a joyful note✨

Roboute Guilliman/reader-eternal(can she be related to Malcador?👀) Maybe NSFW?🤭I'm sure most primarchs have a breeding and pregnancy kink🤔 But Roboute is a special case: he had a good family and loving parents. He himself wants to be the same as Conor. He has a legacy to pass on. And if these inclinations of his had previously subsided, then now that he has a reader who can endure, nothing stops him. How would his Astartes react to the possibility of their primarch having a child of his own? How do they treat the reader?

Author's note: There's a lot here, so I thought it would be best to format my thoughts in my usual headcanons with a small drabble at the end way to make sure I could speak all my thoughts. I hope that's acceptable to you ;3 This one ended up not having any overt sauce because I got so distracted by sweet Guilliman, but if you desire the full NSFW, you're always welcome to send in another request because I'm a dolt xD

Relationships: Roboute Guilliman/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some vague mentions to NSFW things but nothing overt, Tokophobia/Pregnancy mentions, Typical 40kness

I'd agree that a good amount of the Primarch's have that sort of kink, but it manifests in very different ways depending on which Primarch it is.

Lorgar wanting to corrupt purity or fall victim to primal temptations, Vulkan's desire for family, Magnus wanting to share his teachings; Guilliman's is more of the traditional sense.

For as long as he can remember, he's tossed away the idea of ever having a family. Given his lot in life, his duty to humanity, that isn't a thing he can indulge in. He has no time for such selfishness.

He's resigned himself to fighting for others to have that gift, not himself.

When you arrive in his life, Guilliman suddenly remembers how hard it had been to push and keep those thoughts down, now that you serve to constantly remind him.

He has many fond memories of training or hunting with his adoptive father, and one day he would like to have the same with his own child, if the galaxy would let him be so selfish.

When you do tell him you're with child he's an absolute mess though. You're both treading into unknown waters, after all. No matter how strong you are he still worries about your health.

The Ultramarines definitely have their qualms about it though.

Keep in mind they were raised from kids to be stalwart killing machines, so the kind of thoughts and dreams their Primarch is having are... weird to them.

They have more interaction with baseline humans that say the Dark Angels however, so they aren't totally out of touch.

You did disturb one of Guilliman's men when you keeled over in pain and he attempted to make sure you didn't fall, and he felt your child kick his palm. His disturbed face is forever seared in your memory as one of the funniest things you've ever seen. You're pretty sure the marine's squad still beats him up about the whole thing.

Mostly so, his captains and commanders worry. They know that you serve as a weakness (speaking in a logistical sense) to Guilliman that can be taken advantage of.

He's exactly where you expected him to be.

The green haze of the hologram map shines against his skin, having been growing palid over the past weeks. Guilliman often times works himself into an awful state, pushing himself to the mental limit before finally taking respite.

You can't stop him from doing it. So the least you can do is enjoy a few moments of time with him alone before he goes back to the bridge of the Macragge's Honor to hear any updates from his commanders.

When he notices you in the doorway, his face perks up considerably.

"You should be resting." He instantly comes at you with, and you can't help but sigh.

"Not even a hello?" You come closer, and it's his turn to sigh. You walked all the way here, it's the least you can get from him. He puts a hand on your shoulder and presses his lips to the top of your head.

"Hello. You should be resting." There's papers, scrolls and plastic flimsies spread across the edges of the hologram table, clearly a mess done by him.

"I just wanted a few minutes alone with you, is that so wrong?" He sees the small hint of a smirk on your face, as he pulls away to lean on his hands pressed against the holotable. He takes a glance towards your belly.

"How are they?" You're well past showing at this point, and it will only be a few months until you're finally face to face with your child.

"Finally asleep, it seems. They stopped kicking my stomach."

He lets the smallest smile on his face.

"Yearning to fight, even bef-"

The door suddenly opens, revealing an unfamilar to you Ultramarine captain. A hand rests on the pommel of his chainblade, helmet tucked into his elbow. He also has the worst timing in the known galaxy, interrupting your private moment before it even had a chance to truly begin.

"Lord Primarch, You have a vox. Legion Captain Hektor holds news of a new world." The captain looks in your direction and nods his head.

"Apologies, Legion Mother."

You'll never get used to that title. One of many you had thrust upon you when you'd entered into a relationship with Roboute, even if they technically were not official. You were not bound by law as of yet, but the Chapter had taken to calling you Legion Mother none the less. It becoming official was less so a possibility, and more so an inevitability. The Captain bows and takes his leave, and the both of you are alone once again.

"Will I be attending this diplomacy meeting as well?" You joke, looking up to the Primarch.

"If you can do so without straining yourself, then possibly." Guilliman won't deny that you have a knack for diplomacy, no matter how much you might say otherwise. He wishes for worlds to surrender peacefully; He also wishes for you to remain in good health.

"Now go rest. The both of you."

You feel an armored hand gently press against your aching belly. Carrying a Primarch's child hasn't be easy on your body in the slightest; Even more so than a normal human child. You'll happily indulge in the rest, with one exception.

"As long as you come and join me once you're finished. Please?"

Even if you can get him to take a few minutes of respite, you'll consider it a victory. Roboute sighs as he looks downward.

"I will try." You just barely hear him mumble underneath his breath, as his hand still on your stomach. It moves slightly as he kneels.

"Be easy on your mother. She wasn't meant to carry someone like you."

His sentence makes you think for a moment, before he pulls away and lets you leave.

Guilliman did technically join you; But it was only after you'd already fallen asleep. He stepped into the room and gently sat down onto the massive bed, still in his armor. He didn't want to wake you and simply watched, hand sitting close to your leg. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment and his lips parted as he took a few deep breaths, and then took one more look at you- both of you, before standing and leaving again.

#guilliman x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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endless-summer-soldier · 3 months

Text

something like that - part two [Steve Harrington x reader]

pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

summary: after five long years, Steve can't get that special someone out of his mind. he can only hope that he'll run into her again when he visits Robin in Chicago

word count: 11.5k (sorry, may have gotten a little carried away with this one)

part one

March 10, 1989

Steve was zipping up his duffel when he heard the familiar honk of a car horn.

“HARRINGTON!” How he’d missed that voice. Steve collected his things and called goodbye to his roommates as he walked out of the shitty house. Eddie was leaning against his van with a warm smile on his face. “There he is…” Eddie said, imitating a proud father.

“How was the tour?” Steve asked. Eddie slid open one of the van doors and Steve tossed in his bag.

“We had a rocky start but the last few shows went off without a hitch. We’re finally getting into a rhythm and building up our fan base.” Eddie had moved to Cincinnati about a year ago to pursue music full time. His band had just completed a mini-tour, hitting Columbus, Detroit, Cleveland, and Pittsburgh. They had a few nights off once they returned to Cincinnati and then they played a few shows in Indianapolis. While the rest of the band went home, Eddie headed for Bloomington to meet up with his high school friend.

“How’s school been?” Eddie asked, as he started up the van. Steve was in his senior year at Indiana University in Bloomington. While his father would’ve preferred he attended Notre Dame, he was relieved his only son decided to attend university. Steve wasn’t sure if college would be the right fit for him, but as soon as he walked onto the Bloomington campus, he knew he had made the right choice. Steve filled him in on how his semester was going and shared his excitement for graduation.

“Can you believe our girl’s turning 21?” The two were currently driving from Bloomington up to visit Robin at DePaul University in Chicago for her 21st birthday. They had a four hour car ride ahead of them and were scheduled to get to the city around 8PM. Robin hadn’t given them many details for the night other than hitting the bars and drinking copious amounts of alcohol. Steve had been looking forward to this weekend for months, not just to be reunited with his two closest high school friends, but because he was hoping Y/N might be there. He hadn’t seen her or spoken to her since that night at the lake all those years ago. A part of him was always tempted to ask Robin how she was, but he never did, hoping to avoid her sass and knowing gaze. Even if she wasn’t there, it would still be a great weekend. He was grateful the three of them still kept in touch and that their friendship remained intact despite going their separate ways.

The boys didn’t miss a beat, catching up on the new and reminiscing on the old. Eddie pushed his van to its limits while Steve handled the navigation. They had made it about half way there when Eddie had to pull over for gas. Steve went into the gas station to use the restroom and grab a bag of chips. He also wanted to peruse their alcohol selection to see if there was anything gift-worthy for Robin. He looked through the sparse selection and wasn’t thrilled with his options, but ultimately decided it’d be better to show up with a shitty bottle of vodka than empty handed. He chose a frosted bottle with fake purple jewel on it that claimed to be a high-end Polish vodka. When he completed his errands, he walked out of the gas station to find Eddie finishing up at the pump.

“We’re making good time,” Steve stated as they headed back toward the highway. He checked his watch again and it seemed like they could make it into the city a little before eight. As soon as they merged onto the highway, Steve ate his words.

Eddie merely peered over to Steve and read his expression as you jinxed us. Steve tried to remain positive, thinking maybe it was just a minor fender bender that they were clearing out of the road.

It wasn’t. They crawled along the highway for about 45 minutes before Eddie lost his patience.

“I’m getting off at the next exit so you better find us another route.” Steve expected this would happen and had been marking some backroads that would ultimately lead them back to the highway, hopefully past the traffic buildup.

“I’m on it.” Eddie cut over to the right a little early and followed a few cars riding along the shoulder. They exited the highway and were surrounded by fields and farms. Steve told Eddie to keep driving until they saw some more road signs so that Steve could determine where they needed to go. They continued down the road but then the van started to wobble a bit. Steve looked at Eddie with panicked eyes and Eddie responded, “It’s fine, she does that all the time.” His tone wasn’t quite believable though. A few minutes later it happened again and Eddie announced he was going to pull over briefly. Steve held his forehead in his fingers, stressed about their current situation. It suddenly felt like fate was trying to keep him out of Chicago. He wasn’t giving up that easily.

Eddie got out of the van and circled the vehicle, inspecting it for signs of concern. Eddie knocked on Steve’s window, interrupting Steve’s desperate thoughts. Steve cranked down the window.

“I found the problem,” Eddie said.

“How bad is it?”

“It’s a flat tire.”

“Please tell me you have a spare.”

“Harrington, how irresponsible do you think I am?” Steve didn’t answer him and Eddie added, “Yes I have a spare. And I’ve changed a tire before.”

Steve climbed out of the van as Eddie opened the doors for the back, collecting his tools.

“Do you need help with anything?” Steve asked his friend. Eddie genuinely seemed to know what he was doing and Steve didn’t know that he would be of much assistance.

“Nah, I’ve got it.”

Steve peered off in the distance and saw a strip mall about a half a mile away.

“I’m going to walk down there and see if I can find a phone to call Robin. Just let her know we’re on our way but maybe a little delayed.

“Great idea, I knew I kept you around for a reason.” Steve shook his head at his friend, grabbed the maps from the front seat, and then headed down the road toward his destination. Maybe if he met a helpful local they could give them a good route to take. He hoped that by the time he returned, the car would have a new tire and they would be back on the road.

The walk didn’t take him too long and it gave him an opportunity to clear his head. He walked into a small grocery store and was greeted immediately. He let the motherly cashier know his predicament and she was more than happy to help. First he called Robin and the call went to voicemail. He left her a quick message letting her know they were running late and would meet them out at the bar. He just asked that they leave a spare key for them to be able to get into her apartment and drop their stuff off. Once he finished the call, the cashier, who’s name he learned was Cindy, gave him a good back road route that would lead them back to the highway when they got closer to Illinois. He thanked her graciously and walked back to Eddie and the van.

True to his word, Eddie changed the tire and was packing up the van, ready to get going.

“You did that quick,” Steve commented.

Eddie shrugged, “I basically grew up in a mechanic shop. I learned how to change a tire when I was five.”

“Impressive.”

“Did you get a hold of Robin?”

“Left a message on her machine. I told her to leave us a spare key and we’d meet up with them later. Annnnd a very nice lady in the grocery store gave me directions so I know where we need to go.”

“So efficient. We’ll be back on track in no time.” The two piled into the car and, once again, headed north to Chicago.

The duo did make up some time by opting to ignore some speed limits, but they still ended up more than fashionably late. They pulled up to Robin’s address, a row home in Lincoln Park. Eddie let Steve out of the car with the bags while he circled the block in search of free overnight street parking. Steve located the hide-a-key in a potted plant near the front porch and opened the door, dropping the bags by the front steps. He wandered around the house and into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of tap water that he promptly chugged. There was a piece of notebook paper pinned to the fridge with a magnet that read, “Lily’s Bar, Lincoln and Altgeld St - meet us there!” Robin was always a great communicator.

Steve dug through his backpack looking for a fresh shirt that didn’t smell like Eddie’s van. He put on a printed button up and threw on his oversized denim jacket, needing an extra layer from the crisp March air. Eddie barrelled in a minute or two later, ready to party. Steve locked the door behind him and returned the key to its rightful hiding spot.

Steve checked his map to figure out the general direction of their destination and found it wasn’t too far, he guessed a seven minute walk.

“You nervous?” Eddie asked him.

“Well I wasn’t…” Steve commented, remembering the potential upcoming encounter he was about to have.

“Did you ask Robin if she was coming?”

Steve shook his head, “Didn’t want to be disappointed if she wasn’t. Figured I’d keep that little sliver of hope alive.”

“I’m sure she’ll be there. She’s Robin’s cousin and one of her best friends.”

“I don’t even know if she still lives around here. She could be at school in California or something.”

Eddie gave his friend a look, “We’ll find out soon enough. No sense worrying about it now.” As if Steve hadn’t been worrying about it the whole drive up. It was the build up that was getting to him. This big dramatic scene that had played out in his head. They had a moment together one night almost five years ago, and Steve hadn’t stopped thinking about her since. Tonight things would be different. In a perfect world, they would still have a strong connection and would be drawn to each other immediately. In a more realistic world, things would be awkward and they would never see each other again. Either way, it would give him closure and he could hopefully move on from this fantasy.

They approached a bar with wood paneling, tall dark windows, and a hanging black sign that displayed an outline of a shaggy haired woman. It was a dive bar with character and live music was flowing out the open door. Steve and Eddie handed their IDs to the bouncer and easily walked into the bar, in need of a few brews. They beelined it to the bartender and Eddie flashed his winning smile and was quickly greeted. He nudged Steve, “What do you want?”

“Budweiser,” Steve said absentmindedly, skimming the bar for his old friend and her very beautiful cousin. It was loud with the live music and packed considering it was a Saturday night, which put Steve into stimulation overload.

As Eddie flirted away with the bartender he added, “Hey, do you happen to recall serving a round of shots to a group celebrating a 21st birthday?”

“Oh yeah.”

“They still here?” he followed up.

“I think they went upstairs to try and get a table.”

“Thank you darling. Much appreciated,” Eddie left a few extra dollars on the bar to show his appreciation.

“Laying it on a little thick there,” Steve murmured.

Eddie shrugged, “It’s the Munson Method. I recently developed it and found that if you butter up the bartenders early on in the night, they remember you, thus serving you quicker, and often providing more potent mixed drinks.”

“I’ll have to remember that one,” Steve chuckled, still skimming the crowd for a familiar face.

“C’mon lover boy,” Eddie said, taking the lead after recognizing the look on his friend’s face. Eddie headed toward the corner and up the stairs, where the sound of live music was replaced with the loud chatter of college students. The second floor was mostly tables, all of which were currently full and covered in beer bottles. There was a small bar along one wall where people were collecting cans of beer and plastic cups full of mixed drinks.

A flash of pink caught Steve’s eye and he turned toward the corner to find Robin, sitting pretty in a hot pink feather boa and a plastic tiara.

“Found her,” Steve said, pointing toward the crowded corner. There were a lot of people surrounding her and Steve quickly looked for Y/N, but found himself disappointed with every glance. He didn’t see her. His heart would’ve skipped a beat if he even thought he saw her. Yet here he was, happy to see his friend but missing the butterflies in his stomach.

Eddie and Steve walked over to the table and Robin’s eyes lit up when she saw them.

“MY BOYS!” she screeched when she saw them approaching her. She jumped from her hair to put her arms around their necks in a squished group hug.

She let them go and turned back to the group, “Friends, these are my boys.” Then she sat back in her chair and continued sipping on what looked like a Long Island Iced Tea.

“I’m Eddie, this is Steve.”

“I see you’ve been taking good care of her,” Steve joked, referring to Robin’s inebriation.

The group shifted to make space for them at the table and provided a dozen different names that Steve wouldn’t remember.

Steve let out a deep breath, admitting defeat that his potential soulmate wasn’t here. He chugged the rest of his beer and went to the bar to get another. He would cope with alcohol. It was a bad plan, but it was what he needed tonight.

He stood at the crowded bar and looked for an opening to make eye contact with the bartender. There was a girl in a purple fringed jacket who was on the shorter side currently ordering and Steve slid in behind her, hoping he could order once the bartender filled her order. He saw the bartender pouring a line of layered shots which she then slid towards the girl. There were probably eight shots and he almost considered offering her help. But then she impressively bunched all the shooters together and grasped them in her talons, focusing on her grip before she took a deep breath and picked them all up. She turned quickly and ran full force into Steve, somehow only dropping one of the shots. He reached out instinctively and placed his hands around hers to stabilize the glasses. She looked up at him and Steve could’ve died right there. It was Y/N.

“Hi,” she breathed, her expression softening from frustration to shock.

“Hi,” he responded.

“You probably don’t remember me. I’m-”

“Of course I remember you,” Steve smiled. “Can I give you a hand?”

“Um yeah, can you take some of these back to the table and I’ll grab a few more?”

“You got it.” Steve took six of the shot glasses and left her with one, as she turned back to the bar to order again. He placed them in the middle of the table and Eddie said, “Aw Steve, you shouldn’t have.”

“We have more coming,” Steve announced, so that people knew to wait before taking the shots.

“We?” Eddie asked, looking up at Steve. He merely shrugged and walked back to the bar, Eddie’s eyes following him. When he saw Steve sidle up next to a petite brunette, he had it all figured out.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered to himself with a smile.

Steve returned to Y/N’s side as she collected the remaining shot glasses. She ordered a replacement for the one she dropped, as well as two extra shot glasses for himself and Eddie.

“I’m gonna get a drink, do you want something?” he whispered into her ear as she collected the shot glasses.

“Yes, could you get me between the sheets?” Steve’s heart dropped into his stomach and his eyebrows rose.

“What was that?” Steve asked, not believing what he had just heard.

Y/N blushed, “The drink. Between the Sheets.”

“Oh. Ohhh, yes I will get it.”

“You didn’t think I was coming onto you this early in the night, did you?” she flirted with a glimmer in her eyes.

“A boy can dream, can’t he,” Steve added, sending her a smile back. She held his gaze for a moment then took the remaining shots back to the table, leaving him at the bar. He ordered her drink and a rum and coke and returned to the table.

He walked the drink over to where Y/N was sitting and considered lingering for a moment but decided to play it cool. He placed the drink in front of her and she turned around quickly to thank him. She looked like she wanted to say more but then Robin was tugging at her sleeves, pulling her into her conversation to settle an argument.

Steve gave her the signal to go ahead and stated, “We’ll catch up later.” She gave him an enthusiastic nod and then turned over to Robin.

He returned to his seat next to Eddie and tried not to make eye contact, ignoring Eddie’s knowing eyes.

“Someone looks happy,” he commented.

“Shut up,” he said, nudging his friend.

“Is this moment everything you hoped it would be?” Eddie teased.

“I’ll report back at the end of the night.”

“Fair enough.”

Before they could continue their conversation, Y/N stood up and called for their attention. She held up her shot glass and signaled for everyone else to do the same. She gave a toast to Robin, but Steve didn’t hear a word she said. This was the first time he had gotten a proper look at her and she looked as good as ever. She was in a purple fringe jacket with a black corset top and black jeans. Her hair was straighter, but teased with side bangs that framed her face. But her smile was just as infectious as it had always been. He watched her, laughing with Robin, and longed to hear that beautiful sound again. He had to figure out a way to get her alone.

After a few more drinks (and a couple rounds of shots) Steve had loosened up and had a plan in place. The live band was still playing downstairs and he felt it was time to move the party to the main event. He enlisted Eddie’s help and Eddie ran over to Robin and took her hand, pulling her from her chair. He wasn’t sure what Eddie said to her, but he saw Robin’s eyes go wide and she called to the group and said, “Guys, there’s dancing downstairs!!”

The table all stood up and followed Robin and Eddie. Steve hung behind, letting everyone else go before him. Y/N walked over and stood next to him, watching the others head downstairs.

“Dancing, really? Was this your idea?” she accused.

He shrugged, “I may have made a suggestion.”

“I’m glad you guys made it. I heard you had some car trouble.”

“Yeah, hit some traffic then got a flat. But we weren’t gonna let that stop us from celebrating Robin’s special day.”

“I know she’s wasted right now, but she’s so grateful you guys made it. All she could talk about all week was how excited she was to see her hometown friends.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

“How’ve you been Steve?”

“Doing pretty well. Finishing up my last semester and getting ready to graduate, which is crazy.”

“Where’d you end up?”

“Indiana. What about you?”

“Northwestern. Didn’t have it in my heart to leave Chicago just yet. How do you like Bloomington?”

“It’s been great. Very different from the Hawkins small town life, but still feels…I don’t know, comfortable?”

“That’s great! I’m so happy for you. And what-”

“Y/N! Come dance!!” Robin had barrelled back up the stairs and interrupted their conversation by pulling Y/N’s arm. She looked back apologetically at Steve and he gave her a smile, following their lead. He figured if he couldn’t talk to Y/N he could at least try to dance with her.

It was packed on the dance floor as college kids were flocking to the band. Steve imagined this is what it was like at the shows Eddie played. The girls were dancing with each other and some of Robin’s other friends and Steve found a spot with Eddie.

Steve waited for his moment and when Robin spun Y/N around and she landed a few feet in front of him, he slid in and put a gentle hand on her hip. She turned her head around casually to scope out who was touching her, and she eased when she realized it was Steve. She found his free hand and held it in hers, leaning back into him a little more. Then she spun into him so that she was facing him and moved her hands on his shoulders. They were in a slow dancing position but they were moving at pace with the upbeat music. He could feel the tension building between them and all he wanted was to taste her lips again.

He was pulled from his thoughts when the frontman of the band made an announcement.

“Alright, we’re gonna switch it up a little here and invite a friend up to the stage. Munson, get up here.” The crowd cheered, particularly the birthday crew, as Eddie clambered up to the stage. The frontman took off his guitar and passed it to Eddie, who strummed a few test chords. Eddie walked over to the drummer and bass player and they nodded their heads together before the drummer counted them in. The former frontman took a spot next to the bass player as Eddie took position center stage.

The song started with some aggressive, repetitive guitar chords that Eddie hit hard. Then eventually the kick drum came in, holding a steady beat.

Then Eddie started to sing, “When I get to the bottom, I go back to the top of the slide. I get to the top and I go for a ride. I get to the bottom and I see you again. I see you again.”

The crowd went wild at the Motley Crue cover and Eddie’s vocals were throaty and intense.

“Do you, don’t you want me to love you. I’m coming down fast but I’m miles above you. Oh tell me, tell me, tell me, come on tell me the answer. You may be a lover but you ain’t no dancer.”

A flock of coeds had made their way through the crowd and were now salivating at Eddie’s feet and he was loving every minute of it.

“He’s really good!” Y/N nearly yelled into his ear. Steve hadn’t seen Eddie play in a while, and he had to give it to him. The guy knew how to work a crowd.

“Helter skelter, helter skelter, helter skelter…”

The song continued and included a killer guitar solo that Eddie absolutely crushed. When they finished the song, the crowd went wild, screaming and cheering as they drew out the final notes. Eddie gave a thank you to the crowd and high fived the other band members. The front man came back up to the mic and said, “We’re gonna take a quick break and then we’ll be back with some more tunes for you.” The crowd sighed in disappointment and then quickly flocked to the bar for another round of drinks.

“Should we go find him?” Steve asked, wanting to give his friend a clap on the back. Y/N agreed and they moved towards the side of the stage, hoping they could intercept Eddie before his newfound fan-club.

They heard him before they saw him. He was buzzing off the natural adrenaline high and was speaking his praises to the band. When he saw Steve and Y/N waiting for him, he said his goodbyes and approached them.

“Where’d you learn to play like that?” Y/N cooed.

“That is all self taught baby!”

“You were incredible!”

“Seriously man, you killed it out there. One of these days you’re gonna be selling out arenas all over the country.”

Eddie put his hands together in a prayer position to show his gratitude.

“So how do you know those guys?” Y/N asked.

Eddie shrugged, “I shared a joint with them somewhere in Ohio. They’re on the college circuit too. I recognized them and gave them a wave when we walked in, but I never expected them to call me up like that.”

“I think you’ve got some fans looking for you back there,” Steve said, signaling over his shoulder.

“Well it’d be rude to keep them waiting, right?” He smiled. Steve gave his pal a pat on the shoulder and watched him walk off.

“You want another drink?” Steve offered, hoping he could keep Y/N to himself.

“Yeah, definitely.” They wove their way through the crowded bar and Steve ordered them a few cocktails as he tried to shield her from the bustling crowd. He picked up the drinks and paid his tab, then led the way out of the crowd. He found a spot along the wall with a ledge where they could rest their drinks. He held his plastic cup up to hers and they cheers-ed, taking quick sips of their beverages.

“So are you liking Northwestern?” he asked, hoping to pick up the conversation where they left off.

“Loving it. It’s north of the city, so it's a little quieter but I can come back into the city easily enough to visit family and friends.”

“Best of both worlds. What are you studying?”

“Psychology.”

“Tell me you’re going to school to be a therapist.”

She shrugged, “It’s possible.”

Steve beamed at her. “You are going to be so great at that.”

“I’m still coming to terms with it. It feels weird to follow in your parents footsteps, you know? Like is this something I actually want to do or is it just all I know.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that. But I genuinely think you have a talent for it. You’re so easy to talk to and I can tell you actually, like, listen to what I’m saying.”

“Oh yeah? As opposed to all the other girls you spend time with,” she teased.

“You’d be surprised. Half the time I think girls only talk to me because they like my hair.”

“It is really nice hair,” she added.

“Thank you, but there’s more to me than the hair.”

“The handsome good looks?” she teased.

He blushed, “Well I don’t know about that.”

“I do. You’ve got a lot going for you. The girl you're dating right now is a lucky lady.”

“Oh, no. I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Really? I just assumed…”

“Nah, I’ve been kind of hung up on someone and haven’t really dated much since then.”

“Oh,” she replied. He could see her brain moving, trying to understand where that left them.

Before he could reassure her, the crowd cheered again, signaling that the band had returned to the stage. The loud guitar riffs confirmed that.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Steve asked her, hoping he knew the answer.

“What?” she called, struggling to adjust to the noise coming from the amps.

“Are you seeing anyone?” he repeated, this time a bit louder.

She pointed toward her ear and yelled, “I can’t hear you.”

Steve sighed, but quickly recovered as an idea entered his head. He leaned in close and whispered into her ear, “Do you wanna get out of here?”

She looked up at him with an amused expression on her face. She stood on her tiptoes and he leaned closer to make it easier for her.

“And go where?”

He shrugged and moved his lips toward her ear again, “Anywhere.” She looked up at him as he kept his face close to hers. A smirk was spreading up her face and she held his eye contact as she said, “Okay.” They chugged down the rest of their drinks and snuck out of the bar. Steve made eye contact with Eddie as they left so that he would know not to look for them. Eddie gave him a wink and a smile and Steve shifted his gaze away from his friends.

The moment they stepped outside they were met with the cold air, but they could also hear again.

“That’s better,” she commented, happy to be away from the hustle and bustle.

“Know any good spots around here? Maybe somewhere a little more quiet.”

She looked up at the sky and pouted her lips, thinking through some potential options.

“Mmm, I’ve got it.” She started walking down the street and took a few turns down some side streets.

“Are you planning on mugging me in this alley?” Steve asked, eyeing their surroundings.

“Oh stop, it’s a short cut.”

“You shouldn’t be taking shortcuts down alleyways late at night.”

“Okay, Mom,” she joked.

“I’m serious! Don’t put yourself in a dangerous situation.”

“Okay, okay. I hear ya,” she waved him off, but secretly she thought his concern was kind of cute. They walked back onto the main street and stopped at a small storefront on the corner.

“Here we are,” she announced. Steve opened the door for her and she stepped inside first. The bar was cozy and warm, much different than the establishment they came from. There were a few people sitting at the bar, drinking out of stemmed glassware. They took two empty seats at the bar and skimmed through the cocktail menu. When the bartender approached Y/N requested two glasses of water and she ordered a whiskey smash. Steve ordered the same, making it easier on the bartender.

“This is much better,” Steve said.

“I can actually hear you, which is nice.”

“You say that now,” he joked, “Get a few more drinks in me and I won’t shut up.”

“Well lucky for you, I’m a really great listener.”

“I know this about you,” Steve smiled. He was trying to figure out how to ask her if she was single. She was giving him all the signs that she was, but he still wanted to confirm.

“You never told me what you’re studying.”

“Education. I’m going to be a middle school history teacher.”

Her face lit up, “That’s amazing. I can see you being so good at that, you’re so patient. And I bet you’re great with kids.”

“I’ve had some practice over the years. And as much as they can be a pain, I’ve really enjoyed seeing them grow as humans.”

“There should be more teachers like you out there. Growing up we had so many teachers that just did the bare minimum, handing out worksheets or making us watch videos. They lost all the respect of the students. But I don’t think you’ll be like that.”

“I hope not.”

“What do your parents think of your career choice?” Always with the hard hitting questions. Yet oddly enough, he didn’t mind answering.

“My mom has been very supportive. My dad…let’s just say he wasn’t thrilled. He loves to remind me that it won’t be easy to support a family on a teacher’s salary. I could care less about the money. I spent my whole life being the rich kid, wondering if my friends were hanging out with me just because I had the nicest toys and a pool in the backyard.”

She placed her hand on top of his, showing him her support.

“Robin and Eddie don’t see you that way.”

“You’re right, they don’t. And they really showed me what it means to be a true friend. I was really insecure before I met them, and I was kind of a jackass. I was friends with terrible people and treated others outside my circle really poorly. And then I met Robin and she called me out on my bullshit. She helped me realize I didn’t have to try so hard and I could just be myself.”

“She’s really good at that,” Y/N added. “She did the same thing for me when we were growing up.”

“Really?” Steve asked.

Y/N nodded. “I was always really shy and worried a lot about what people thought of me. And she taught me not to be like that. She told me that I was awesome and if people didn’t see that, then it was their loss. And slowly but surely I started to believe that myself, and that’s when I finally began to feel confident.”

“I’m gonna have to thank her for that next time I see her. Your confidence was one of the first things I noticed about you. It’s extremely attractive.”

There was a brief moment of silence between them, nothing uncomfortable, just quiet. And Steve figured now was as good a time as any. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Her brow furrowed, “Yeah, you can ask me anything.”

He tried to see if there was a more subtle way of putting it, but there wasn’t.

“Are you…currently dating anyone?”

She smirked, “Is that what you were trying to ask me at Lily’s?”

“That’s not an answer,” Steve countered.

“No, I am not dating anyone. You know how you said girls are mostly interested in your hair?”

“Yes…”

“Guys are mostly just interested in my ass. Doesn’t make for a great dating pool.”

He thought about complimenting her ass, but it felt distasteful.

“I’m really sorry you have to deal with that. I mean, guys are assholes but you deserve better than that.”

“I’m starting to think that not all guys are assholes,” she flicked her eyes up to him at the comment. By now, their drinks were mostly ice cubes.

“Do you want to get another round?” Steve asked.

“Actually, can we go somewhere else?”

“Sure,” Steve replied, knowing he would follow her anywhere.

“I want to show you my favorite place in the city.” Steve smiled. He wanted to see her favorite place. He wanted to know everything about her. And she seemed to be letting him in.

“This is it!” she smiled, arms spread out as she walked onto the shore of Lake Michigan.

Steve looked out across the lake ahead of them, stunned by the size of the water.

“Wow,” was all he could manage. Y/N turned around to find him stopped in his tracks, taking it all in. She walked back towards him and stood by his side.

“Amazing, right?” she said, peering up at him.

“I feel like I’m looking at the ocean…”

She nodded, “It has that effect on most. But if you get a clear day, you can just barely make out Michigan across the way.”

“That’s wild.”

“I know it’s not as quaint and picturesque as your lake in Hawkins, but it’s amazing when you consider there’s a full city right behind us.” Steve looked over his shoulder, peering at the illuminated skyline.

“I can see why you like this place,” he commented.

“I always felt like the lake brought me a little bit of peace, away from the hustle and bustle of the city.”

They stood there for a moment, listening to the distant sounds of the city that contrasted with the calm of the water in front of them. At some point Steve took her hand and they walked further along the sand, sitting just shy of the tides.

“This is nice,” he said. He thought it before he realized he had spoken it out loud. But he meant it. They fell into an easy, comfortable silence. Neither of them needed to force conversation. He was happy just sitting there in her presence.

“I’ll give you another thirty seconds,” she stated.

“We’re leaving already?”

“Not exactly,” he looked at her, expecting an elaboration, “Just…enjoy the next few seconds.” Steve was utterly confused, which made it impossible for him to relax.

“Times up, come on!” she said, quickly standing up. She kicked off her shoes and tore off her jacket, throwing it onto the sand. Steve sat there still, wondering why she was running straight to the lake. She unzipped the back of her top and let the fabric drop to the ground. She turned back around toward him, wearing a simple black bra and her jeans. “Are you coming?” she asked playfully. She didn’t have to ask him twice, he would follow her anywhere. And her lack of clothing certainly helped.

She unzipped and wiggled out of her jeans, leaving them splayed across the sand as she ran toward the water’s edge. Steve couldn’t get his clothes off fast enough, despite the chill in the air.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, finding it strange to be the voice of reason. “It’s gonna be freezing.” His shirt was off and he was working on his pants.

“Come on Stevie. Live a little,” she winked over her shoulder before running into the icy water. She shivered at first but powered through, knowing she had to force herself in to get acclimated.

Steve followed her lead, albeit with slightly less excitement. When the water hit his skin, he tried not to think about how cold it was. He focused all his thoughts on catching up with her and keeping her warm in his arms. When he reached her, she was out deep enough that she was treading water.

“Took you long enough,” she smirked at him.

“I wasn’t sure if you were serious.”

“Didn’t think I was spontaneous?”

“Didn’t think you were crazy,” he joked.

“Only a little bit,” she smiled back. They bobbed in the water together, eyes locked on one another, and Steve was contemplating what his next move was when she spoke.

“I think about that day all the time,” she confessed. Steve almost told her that he did too, but she didn’t seem like she was finished. “I’ve replayed it in my head over and over again. And it all was perfect, but there is one thing that I would change.”

Steve tensed slightly, unsure where she was going with this.

“I wish I would’ve given you my number. I just had it in my head that I was going to be coy and mysterious and, looking back, that was stupid. And now I’ve spent all these years thinking about you after spending like four hours with you and…I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, probably because the cold-”

Steve heard everything he needed to hear. As she spoke he slid in closer and closer and a dumb smile was spread across his face. She felt it too, this was the confirmation he was waiting for. He cut her off suddenly, his hand cupping her jaw and his lips were on hers. He took her by surprise but she melted into the kiss almost immediately. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she brought him closer, wrapping her bare legs around his waist. His free hand moved to the small of her back and the skin to skin contact reminded him that they were scantily clothed. Whatever his expectations were for the night, this surpassed all of them.

He pulled away for a moment, connecting his forehead with hers as he caught his breath.

“I’ve been waiting five years to do that,” he spoke onto her lips. She smiled and let out a breath. “Well we can’t have you waiting any longer,” she said, leaning into him again. He held her tight as he kissed her again, giving her a playful nip on her bottom lip. She deepened the kiss, allowing him access into her mouth. She played with the hair on the back of Steve’s neck and he let out an unconscious moan, which generated a playful smile on Y/N’s lips, as she continued kissing him.

Steve had almost forgotten about being submerged in ice water, until he noticed Y/N’s shoulders twitch in a shiver. He had lost track of how long they’d been in the water, which meant it was probably time to get out.

He pulled away from her slowly and ran his hands over her shoulders in an attempt to warm her up. “Come on, let’s get you dried off before you catch a cold.”

She nodded and he gave her a quick peck on her nose, which she giggled at. He reluctantly released her and she took his hand, guiding him out of the water. The minute the air hit the two of them they were shivering, teeth clattering at the cold, as they ran back to where they left their clothes. Y/N struggled to pull on her jeans and didn’t even bother with the corset, instead throwing on her jacket. Steve dressed quickly and she pulled at his arm, urging him to come with her, which of course was unnecessary.

They ran through the streets of Chicago, stopping only when there was a car approaching, and within about ten minutes, Y/N led him up the stoop of a brownstone. She easily unlocked the door and led Steve inside. All the lights were out, save for a single lamp, and the entire house was quiet.

“So this is my house,” she said in a sing-song voice. It was small compared to the spacious house Steve lived in, but it was still beautiful. And it felt like home. There were school portraits and family vacation photos strewn all over the walls. It could’ve been a set for a sitcom, it looked that perfect.

“Well this is cute,” Steve said, pointing to a photo of Y/N in her elementary school years. Y/N peered over and winced at the awkward childhood photo.

“Oh god, that’s the worst one,” she said, covering her face with her hands. “I blame my mother for letting me out of the house like that.”

Steve chuckled, “Are you kidding? That girl would’ve been my third grade crush.”

She scoffed, “Maybe if you liked chapter books and jigsaw puzzles. I was pretty introverted.”

“And I always liked shy girls.”

She blushed and looked at him for a moment too long, wondering if he could read her mind. He didn’t disappoint when he took a step closer and gave her a sweet, affectionate kiss on the lips. She looked up at him, a smile extending up to her eyes, and wanted to remember this moment.

“C’mon, let’s get you out of these wet clothes,” Steve offered.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, “Steve Harrington, you big flirt.”

Steve blushed, “I genuinely did not mean for that to sound so sleazy.”

She simply shook her head and smiled at him, before she led him up the stairs. Her room was on the third level, so they made their way up two flights and walked past several closed doors. When they reached Y/N’s room, Steve couldn’t help but smile. Her room was exactly what he would’ve expected. There was a shelf full of books and a turntable with a crate of records under it. She had a movie poster of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off taped to the wall overlooking a small desk covered with writing utensils and pictures of her with her friends. But what caught his eye was a familiar looking Members Only jacket slung around the back of the chair.

“You still have this?” Steve said, pulling at the sleeve of the jacket.

Y/N turned around towards him and a faint blush crept up her freckled cheeks.

“Oh, well yeah. I thought you might want it back someday.”

“Not deserving of a hanger?” he picked the jacket up

“Um, sometimes it stays in the closet.” Steve read the guilty expression on her face and followed his instinct. He brought the familiar fabric to his face and gently inhaled.

“It smells like you,” he smiled.

“It gets cold here,” she shrugged. He looked at her in amazement and she couldn’t maintain his eye contact. “Are you enjoying this? Because it’s mortifying for me.”

“I am actually,” he smiled. “But it could be worse.”

“Oh really?” she challenged.

He merely shrugged, “You could keep a Care Bear in your closet because it reminds you of a pretty girl.”

Her jaw dropped into a smile of disbelief. “Are you serious?” He didn’t say anything, but instead gave her a tight lipped smile and an eyebrow raise as if to say “guilty.”

“Did you bring him with you this weekend?”

“Hell no. Wish Bear is not emotionally prepared to be reintroduced to the woman who abandoned him in the backseat of a car.”

Y/N couldn’t keep in her laugh. “Tell him I’m terribly sorry that I was distracted trying to find him a new daddy.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose as a grin spread across his face. “What was that?” he challenged.

She immediately put her head in her hands, “That…that came out wrong.”

“There are so many things I could say right now…”

“And on that note, I’m going to take a shower.” Steve said nothing as she rushed out of the room, cheeks burning red. She popped her head back into the room to say, “Oh, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be quick.”

“Take your time, sweetheart.”

Y/N showered quickly, letting the warm water melt off the embarrassment from the situation she just escaped. Steve was here, in her childhood home, in her room. She had no idea where the night was going, but she wanted to savor it. Enjoy every minute with him while she could, because she didn’t know what tomorrow would bring.

She emerged from the bathroom in nothing but a towel and took a deep breath as she stepped back into her room. Steve was looking through her crate of records and turned towards her as the door opened. Upon seeing her in just a towel he turned his back toward her, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable.

“Sorry,” he instinctively apologized, “I won’t look.”

“Oh, it’s fine. The shower’s all yours anyway. I put some clean towels out in the bathroom for you.”

“Thanks,” he walked past her and inadvertently brushed her bare shoulder, sending a small shiver down her spine. He was grateful for the escape because the sight of her in nothing but a towel was too much for him to handle.

Once she heard the water running, she changed into a pair of sweatpants and a Northwestern T-shirt and pulled her wet hair up with a scrunchie. Then she raided her brother’s room, in search of a pair of gym shorts and a T-shirt that Steve could wear. She folded the borrowed clothes on her bed and curled up with a book, attempting to distract herself from the boy in her bathroom, which proved to be difficult.

She was overthinking things, as per usual. She tried to convince herself that she was okay with having a one night stand with Steve, but she wasn’t sure that’s how she actually felt. She wanted more with him. The connection and chemistry was there, but the path forward was unclear.

Steve interrupted her internal monologue when he emerged from the bathroom. And Y/N made the mistake of turning to look at him. He was glistening from the shower with his wet hair disheveled, yet somehow framing his face perfectly. There was a towel wrapped around his waist but Y/N’s attention was drawn to his firm pecs, covered by the slightest amount of chest hair that matched the happy trail that ran from his navel down to the edge of the towel. She wanted nothing more than to feel his body pressed on top of hers. Luckily, she was completely frozen by his bare form because her instinct was to take his hand and pull him towards her.

“Good water pressure,” he smiled at her, breaking her trance.

“Oh yeah. It’s one of the things I miss most when I’m at school.”

“I’d be happy if I could get a third of that in my apartment.”

She contemplated her response, running different replies over in her head, but ultimately all she gave him was a smile. It’s not that things were awkward, but there was tension in the air and she was trying to tread lightly.

“So there’s fresh clothes at the end of the bed for you. Hopefully they fit, they’re my brothers and you’re probably close to the same size.”

“Thank you, I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

“And there’s extra toothbrushes in the drawer to the right of the sink.”

“You are truly a gracious host,” he smiled, collecting the clothes and retreating into the bathroom. He came out a few minutes later and she took his place in the bathroom, washing her face and brushing her teeth. Steve took a careful seat at the edge of the bed and waited, realizing this perfect night was coming to an end. He noticed she’d tensed up a bit recently, and he hoped it wasn’t because he was making her uncomfortable. He ultimately decided to follow her lead because he didn’t want to risk crossing a line.

When she walked back into the room, Steve finally took in her appearance. She was in sweats and a T-shirt, hair pulled into a messy bun, with no makeup on, and he was floored by her natural beauty.

She caught his eye and said, “What is it?”

He smiled at her and shook his head, “Nothing, I just like looking at you.” She blushed and joined him on the bed, leaning against the pillows and pulling her knees into her chest.

“So…what now?” he asked her. She peered at the clock on her bedside table and realized it was nearing 2AM.

“I think now we just go to bed.”

“Bed it is,” he said. He nodded and stood up, wondering how he should end this night with her.

“What are you doing?” she questioned.

“Oh I just figured I’d go sleep on the couch or the floor or something.”

“Steve…don’t be stupid.” They eyed each other for a few seconds before she signaled for him to approach, saying “Come on.”

“Are you sure?” he confirmed.

“Of course I’m sure.”

He certainly wasn’t going to argue with that. She pulled the comforter down and slid underneath and he easily followed her lead. Once they were settled, she stretched out toward the side table and turned off the lamp.

It was awkward for a beat. The double bed fit two, but in close proximity. They were both looking up toward the ceiling and Steve heard Y/N pull in a deep breath. She eventually shifted so that she was laying on her side facing him. He easily turned his head towards her and his hair fell over his eyes. Without thinking, she brushed the hair off his face. A verbal thank you wasn’t needed; it was communicated by the look in his eyes.

“I should warn you that I’m a bit of a restless sleeper,” she spoke.

“Not a problem for me. I sleep like a log.”

“The real question is do you snore?”

A smile spread up his face, “Now how do you expect me to answer that?”

“With a yes or no.”

“How am I supposed to know if I snore if I’m asleep when it happens?”

“Has anyone told you that you snore?”

“No, but I don’t think there’s many people that would know if I did.”

“I don’t believe that for one second.”

“Why not?”

“Because…look at you. You can’t honestly expect me to believe you haven’t had hookups before.”

“I’ve had hookups before, just…not a lot of sleepovers.”

“And why’s that?”

He studied her face as he came up with an answer. “I don’t know. I think I didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea. It seemed like if I spent the night, there was maybe hope that something more would happen. But I never met anyone I wanted more with.”

“Yet, you’re sleeping over tonight…”

“Well this is a completely different situations because I’m from out of town and-”

“That is not the answer I was looking for,” she interrupted his rambling. Now he shifted so that he was laying on his side, fully facing her.

“Oh no, you don’t want me to get all sappy.”

“Oh I absolutely do. Girls love it when guys show their vulnerable side.”

“Really? I’ll have to remember that,” he joked. She playfully hit his chest in response. And they laughed for a moment before he gave her a genuine response.

“Y/N, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m crazy about you. Always have been. You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, I was drawn to you the moment I first saw you, before I even knew who you were. And then I talked to you which made me realize you were someone I needed to have in my life. So to sum all that up, I’m here and sleeping over because you are someone special.”

Her cheeks naturally flushed as she smiled at him, and she turned more into her pillow in an attempt to hide her amusement.

“Come on now, don’t hide that smile from me.” He carefully slid his fingers between her cheek and the soft pillow, angling her so that she was facing him fully. She took this opportunity to lean in closer to him.

“Do you really mean that?” she whispered. She wasn’t sure why she was looking for confirmation. In her brain, this all seemed too good to be true.

“Without a doubt.” He held her eye contact and she believed him whole-heartedly. She moved in closer, at a painfully slow pace, and then her lips finally connected with his. They melted into each other, as Steve easily wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her as close to him as possible.

With every second that passed, Steve found himself growing more courageous. First he slid his hand under the hem of her shirt and placed it on the dip of her waist, drawing little circles on her warm skin with his fingertips. When she tugged on his shirt to pull him closer, he gained another boost of confidence. He pulled back for a brief moment, but before she could protest, he peppered kisses up her jaw and gave her earlobe a gentle tug with his incisors. She let out a heated breath and he smiled, planting a kiss behind her ear and working down her neck.

With each new spot Steve explored, he lit a spark under Y/N’s skin. It was like he was thoughtfully stringing Christmas lights but the final result was that Y/N was getting very, very turned on. Steve paused for a breath when he reached the collar of her T-shirt.

“Can I take this off?” he boldly asked. She was flushed but didn’t have to think twice about answering. She sat up and Steve gently pulled the shirt up and over her head, careful to ensure it didn’t get caught anywhere. As she lounged on the bed in a simple bralette, it suddenly didn’t seem fair that Steve was still fully clothed.

“Your turn.” Steve cocked an eyebrow at her suggestion, but easily gave in, reaching behind his neck to pull the shirt over his head. She couldn’t help but notice the flex in his bicep as he shed his tee and felt her attraction increase even more. His hair was perfectly messy, falling over his chocolate brown eyes that were currently fixated on her lips.

She needed to feel his touch again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him on top of her. He was careful not to put his full body weight on her, but she wanted the skin-on skin contact. He found a comfortable position where one of his legs rested on the mattress between hers. As he closed the gap between them, he could feel the anticipation emanating off her. The minute his lips met hers, she tightened her grip around him, wanting to feel all of him. He allowed himself to drop some of the weight he was holding up, which increased the contact between them. She loved the feeling of his bare chest on top of hers and she ran her fingers through his hair, forcing a small moan out of his mouth. As her arousal increased, she became bolder. She untangled her fingers from his hair and tucked her arms under his, giving her access to his back. He was currently tracing small circles on her side with his fingertips, barely tickling her and making her giddy. She countered his motion, taking it a step further by digging her nails into his trapezius and slowly pulling down. She felt Steve’s breath catch momentarily as she caught him off guard, but he recovered quickly, deepening the kiss. He pulled away, rubbing his nose with hers in an eskimo kiss, before focusing his attention on the spot where her neck met her shoulder. He leaned in close, his lips gently caressing her soft skin before he slowly sunk his teeth into her flesh. She let out a small gasp but held Steve’s head in place so that he wouldn’t pull away. Her entire body was tingling and she could feel her underwear dampening with every second and Steve’s current actions were only making things worse. As he shifted to come back up to her mouth, he adjusted his position and in doing so, his leg slid up and his thigh brushed between her legs. When he found her lips again, the friction between her legs continued as Steve’s thigh retained its position. And then she felt his erection pressing into her hip bone and she pulled away.

She leaned her head back and shut her eyes, “Fuck…”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Steve looked at her, concern plastered on his face.

She sighed as she looked at him, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. We can stop if you want.”

She rested a hand on his cheek, “Steve, I want this so badly and I thought I could be this cool, laid back girl who can have a one night stand but I just keep thinking about what happens tomorrow morning. I can’t give myself to you tonight because it will crush me when you leave.”

He turned into her hand and kissed her palm. He contemplated sharing the bit of information he’d been waiting to bring up all night, but he decided to wait. He didn’t want it to come across like he was trying to persuade her to change her mind.

“You are very wise, my dear,” he smiled at her. “I already can’t stop thinking about you and I haven’t even seen you naked yet.”

She blushed and let out a small laugh, and he couldn’t resist kissing her again. He leaned in first with a peck and then gave her a soft, deeper kiss.

“Will you still cuddle with me tonight?” she asked him, giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

“Only if I can be little spoon,” he teased.

“Nooooo….” she whined. He kissed her on the cheek and then fell back onto the mattress, pulling her tight into his chest.

“Settle in cuddle bug,” he said, kissing the nape of her neck. She made herself comfortable in the bed and intertwined her hand in his. She let out a deep sigh and melted into his arms.

“Goodnight Steve,” she said.

“Goodnight Y/N.”

The morning sunlight crept through the blinds, waking Steve from his peaceful sleep. He smiled when he found Y/N curled into him, her cheek pressed against his chest and her arm draped around his torso. A part of him thought it all might’ve been a dream, a trick his mind was playing on him after years of longing. Yet the evidence was right in front of him: the smell of her grapefruit shampoo, the sound of her steady breathing, and the feel of her warm, soft skin. He didn’t dare move a muscle for fear of waking the sleeping angel in his arms.

He eyed the digital clock on her nightstand and saw it was around 7:30. He’d gotten less than five hours of sleep, yet he’d never felt more refreshed. He never wanted this moment to end, so he savored it by tightening his grip on Y/N and lightly tracing patterns on her back with his fingertips. She shifted slightly and let out a slight groan, a sign that she was waking up. Her eyes fluttered open and she squinted up at him.

“Good morning,” he smiled down at her.

“Hi,” she squeaked, “You’re still here.”

Steve looked down at her in shock, “Are you crazy? Of course I’m still here. Where else would I be?”

She shrugged sleepily and he kissed her forehead, tightening his grip on her and pulling her in closer.

She let out a deep sigh, “I think I’m still in denial about…all of this.”

He nodded, “I had the same thought when I woke up.”

“Do you like coffee?” she asked, out of the blue.

“I love coffee.”

“How about I go make us some coffee,” she suggested, sitting up to stretch.

He nodded in agreement, “Do you want company?”

“Yeah, sure,” she smiled at him. As they climbed out of bed, Y/N took his hand and led him down the stairs. She expertly maneuvered the coffee pot while Steve took a seat at the kitchen island.

“Sorry, I’m not a morning person,” she explained.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked her.

She turned toward him and replied, “Surprisingly well.”

“Surprisingly?”

“I wasn’t sure how I was going to sleep with someone else in my bed.”

He tilted his head and looked at her funny, “Then why did you let me sleep there?”

“Because I wanted you there,” she said sincerely.

“Well I’m glad I didn’t keep you up.”

“I mean, you did a little bit,” she gave him a knowing smile, “but I didn’t mind.”

As the coffee finished brewing, Y/N poured them two cups and brought over some cream and sugar. She sat down next to him and took a deep sip of her coffee, needing a little extra courage for this next part.

“So…what’s your plan for today?” she offered.

“Um, well I’ve gotta get back to Robin’s at some point. All my stuff’s there and Eddie parked his van there and he’s my ride home.”

“Are you heading back to Indiana today?”

“Yeah, at some point.

She nodded, thinking through her words and how to breach the subject on her mind.

“So-” she started

“I should tell you something,” he said at the same time, not meaning to cut her off. He sounded serious and she felt her heart sink into her stomach, realizing this was all coming to an end.

“Go on,” she replied, eyeing him with curiosity. She almost didn’t want to hear what he had to say. This was probably why Robin seemed to keep them apart.

“Well I’m graduating in a few months, so I’m in the fun process of looking for a job. And I actually have an interview in a few weeks for a teaching job in Oak Park.”

Her eyes widened and she clarified, “Oak Park, Illinois?”

He nodded, trying to read her expression.

“So you’ll be back in a few weeks?” she smiled at him.

Steve tilted his head, not sure that she fully grasped what he was saying.

“If all goes well, I’ll be moving out here in the summer.”

Her face turned from contentment to pure joy as things finally seemed to be coming together. She had no words to express her feelings, so instead she reached out and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. He embraced her around the waist and hugged her back, planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” she asked, as she moved back to her seat.

He sighed, “I was trying to find the right moment. Early in the night, I didn’t really know what was going to happen and didn’t want to be presumptuous. And then you kind of pumped the brakes last night and I felt like mentioning it then would’ve seemed like I was just trying to get in your pants.”

She looked at him with soft eyes, realizing how truly considerate he was, “You are unbelievable.”

“Is that a good thing?” he asked, eyebrows raised. She responded by placing both hands on his jaw and pulling him towards her so that she could express her emotions with her touch. She captured his lips in hers, kissing him gently but with passion.

When she pulled away, Steve gazed into her loving eyes, “Can I take you out to dinner?”

She smiled and said, “Steve, it's 8AM.”

He rolled his eyes, “Not now. When I’m back in a few weeks.”

“Where are you gonna take me?”

“I hear this city has some pretty good hot dogs,” he joked. She laughed and leaned into him. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

She stood up unexpectedly and walked across the kitchen, grabbed something from a drawer, and walked back over to Steve. She took his left hand and pulled it towards her. She uncapped the pen in her hand and carefully wrote a series of ten digits on Steve’s forearm.

“Had to make sure you wouldn’t lose it,” she smiled at him.

“You’ll regret giving this to me. I’m gonna call you three times a day.”

“It’s a good thing I like the sound of your voice,” she complimented. He placed his hands on her hips and brought her closer. She countered by placing her hands on his shoulders. She looked at him adoringly, wanting to run her fingers through his tousled hair.

“What are you thinking about?” he posed.

She let out a sigh, “It feels like this might be the start of something special.” He leaned up from his sitting position to find her lips and she graciously accepted his advances. As they slowly pulled away, she added, “I really hope you get the job.”

“Even if I don’t get this one, I can find another job in Chicago. But I really hope I get this one.”

“Tell me about the job!” she mused. He returned to her chair and slid closer to him, sipping on her coffee and he gave her the details of the opportunity. It was the first time she saw the passion he had for his career and it was incredibly attractive. He was so excited to teach in a public school in an urban environment and he wanted to help mold these young people who may not have been given a lot of opportunities. He explained that he knew he grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth and he wanted to give some of that back to others. He explained that it probably wouldn’t pay much but he’d have the summers off which would be nice. Y/N still had another year of undergrad followed by two years of grad school, which meant they’d have a lot of time to spend together during their breaks.

“You’re gonna get it,” she smiled at him.

“You think?”

“If you repeat that same spiel to them, they’ll hire you in a heartbeat. You have this twinkle in your eye which shows that you’re excited about the opportunity and you care about your future students.”

“Is that the therapist speaking or my future girlfriend?”

“Well aren’t you sure of yourself? You haven’t even taken me out on a date yet.”

“Oh I’m going to nail the date. In fact, I’d go as far to say that you just might fall in love with me by the end of it.”

She blushed and tried to hide her smile. All she could think was that she couldn’t fall for him on their first date because she was already in love.

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you

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btswrckd · 13 days

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Secrets and Lies

Mafia member!Namjoon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Part of the War of Hearts universe! You've spent the last 10 years not really knowing just who your best and only friend actually is or just obsessed he is with you, but when an unexpected threat emerges from your mother's past, he's given an opportunity that he just can't pass up.

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of guns and other weapons, mention of death, mention of obsessive behavior, Namjoon's kind of a prick to an old one-night stand

A/N: Ta-da!! It's here!! I'm sure there's more warnings I missed and I'm sorry!! As you guys may know, I've been working on 3 separate fics for the War of Hearts verse and I'm still working on them, but I wasn't sure whose story I wanted to put out first. As I'm bouncing back and forth between the stories, I've finally figured out the order in which I want to put them out. Please enjoy guys!

“Are you going to tell me what, exactly, we’re doing here?” Hoseok yawns from the passenger seat of Namjoon’s sleek black Hyundai. Why Namjoon thought of such a car as “inconspicuous”, Hoseok will never know. Honestly, he was pretty pissed that Namjoon had dragged him out of the house at 4 o’clock in the morning to watch random people come and go from some 24 hour diner that sits just before entering city limits. But when the door opens for the hundredth time and a pile of messy hair sitting in a bun atop the head of a beautiful girl comes bouncing out, he rolls his eyes. Now he knows what the hell they were waiting around for.

“Seriously, Namjoon,” Hoseok groans and burrows into the heated seat. “Can’t you stalk your girlfriend without me?”

“Shut up,” Namjoon hisses at him. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“But you are stalking her, correct?”

“Hobi,” Namjoon warns again, “shut the fuck up.”

He doesn’t hear whatever it is that Hoseok mumbles under his breath, simply shaking his head and turning his attention back to the waitress who’d just finished a 12 hour shift. Without the top of a messy bun flouncing about, he’d have lost you in the mass of cars you were weaving through. You look tired, he notes, exhausted as you slump against the driver door of the beat up old car that you’d been saving up for. He never liked when you took the bus; too many strange men would look your way far too long for his liking. But he didn’t think a car like that would suffice either, even though it meant tracking you was a little easier.

Your head thumps against the steel door of the small car you’d salvaged from a junkyard. “Still,” you remind yourself, “a junker car is better than no car at all. Definitely smells better than the bus.” It was the third 12 hour shift you’ve worked in a row and still had another 3 to go. To say you were exhausted would be putting it lightly. You’re worn out, both physically and mentally, but you have to keep going. Have to keep making money. Have to pay off the medical bills that only seem to keep racking up. The sound of an obnoxious ringtone blares in the dark parking lot and you jump in place as you recognize it as your own.

“Shit,” you hiss, fumbling for your cell phone only to find the caller I.D. belonging to none other than your ex-boyfriend. It’s not that you’re ungrateful for him taking on the task of being your mother’s caretaker, it’s that you wish he’d stop trying to use her dwindling health as an excuse to try and get back together. “Minseok,” you answer, vexed. “What is it?”

“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Minseok snaps back, taking a deep breath to steady himself. After all, catching an attitude with you when he’s trying so hard to get you back is not going to earn him any brownie points. “Hey, so, you just got off work right? Why don’t you stop by and we can have breakfast? Your mom’s been asking to see you.”

“In time,” is all you can say. It’s all you’ve been saying since you were a teenager. Your mother is all you have left and to keep blowing off chances to visit her breaks your heart a little more each time. You love her so much, but the thought of seeing the frail body in place of what once was a strong and healthy woman makes you want to cry. You don’t know how long she has left or why you keep avoiding her, knowing damn well that she’ll be gone soon. You only know that distracting yourself with work doesn’t make you feel as helpless as sitting at home waiting for the inevitable phone call. Minseok is babbling about something, but you don’t catch what it is when the sound of approaching footsteps has you reaching for the pepper spray attached to your key ring.

Namjoon is amused when you whirl around, pepper spray at the ready even if it is with a shaking grip. He laughs as your shocked face morphs to one of anger and embarrassment. Clearly, you hadn’t expected to be snuck up on in the middle of the parking lot of your job, and that makes him uneasy. You should always be aware of your surroundings. “What are you doing with that, you nut case?”

“Shut the hell up, Joon!” You kick at the loose rocks on the pavement, sending them flying in his direction. “You scared the crap out of me, asshole. What are you doing lurking around a dark parking lot anyways?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He tilts his head playfully, though there’s no hint of amusement in his tone anymore. You should have gotten in your car and left a long time ago, yet something or someone, namely Minseok, kept you from doing so. He recognized the look on your face when you’d looked at the phone screen. Even from across the lot, he knew who was stupid enough to bother you after a long week of working. With a roll of his eyes, he takes the phone from your hand and ignores your protests.

“Minseok,” he says into the phone, skillfully dodging your attempts to pry it away from him. “How are you?”

“I’m uh,” Minseok sputters, “good. I’m good, I guess. What are you um, what are you doing with Y/N?”

“Me? Oh, nothing really. Just came to pick her up from work. Yeah, she finally scrapped that heap of junk and decided to ride in style. With me. Goodbye, Minseok.” Namjoon ends the call, carelessly tossing the phone back into your waiting hands. Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his slacks, he nods down at you. “Heading home?”

“Trying to.” You prop a hand on your hip and he groans because he knows exactly what’s about to come. “You know I hate it when you do that. Getting under Minseok’s skin does absolutely nothing for you, so why do you do it? And you know he’s the primary caretaker for my mom. Stop trying to piss him off.”

“You never get after him when he pisses me off,” he points out. It was never a secret how much he despised Minseok, especially when you dated that little prick. Nothing makes Namjoon’s blood boil more than the image of Minseok taking you on dates, holding your hand, kissing your skin, touching you wherever he pleased and you allowed. “Anyways, I wasn’t trying to get under his skin. If he feels threatened by me then it’s not really my fault. And what the hell is he still doing taking care of your mom? Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

“Not everyone at the rehab center knows we dated,” you explain, missing the flash of anger in his eyes. “He’s the only one that mom trusts.”

“You know I can take care of her too.” He braces his large palms against the car door, trapping you between the metal and his body. “I’ve offered a thousand times, Y/N, you always say no.”

“I’ve burdened you enough.”

Namjoon sees the brief downward tilt of your lips, a frown you try so hard to hide from him. He won’t have it. Tucking his finger beneath your chin, he tilts it up to look you in the eye. “You’re not a burden. Neither is your mother. I’ve told you before that all you have to do is ask and I’ll give you anything you want, Y/N.”

“I just want her to be better,” you whisper, casting your eyes to the floor as they flood with tears. There’s no doubt in your mind that if you were to ask Namjoon for private care, he would gladly take care of it without expecting anything in return. That’s how it’s always been with him though. Always giving but never taking. According to his close friend, Hoseok, that’s how Namjoon’s grown up. You’re not entirely sure what his home life was like when he was a child, but his parents seemed to have done a wonderful job raising him. You can’t honestly say you’ve ever met anyone like him in all your 28 years of life.

Namjoon’s finger becomes firm in making your eyes meet his once more. His mouth tightens into a thin line and you know he’s trying to hold back his frustration. When he met you in the hallway at the hospital nearly 10 years ago, you’d just learned of your mother’s diagnosis. To say you were distraught would be sugarcoating it. You were absolutely devastated. He remembers how 18-year-old you had slid down the wall with body wracking sobs, but you’d tried to hide it as your mother was just a few feet behind a closed door. You had wailed into your knees after drawing them as close to your body as possible. He had just rounded the corner of the hall, hissing into his phone about the absolute fucking disaster that was Hoseok’s assignment, when he’d seen you and he felt like time had slowed. Something about you, about the heart wrenching way your body curled up that made him feel…protective. It was his job to protect Taehyung, sure, but you were an entirely different story. You had nothing to offer him. No kind of incentive for his comfort. And yet, when he’d walked over and reached out his hand, you’d taken it. Taken it so damn easily and allowed yourself to be comforted by a complete stranger. It was always a mystery to him, how you’d melted into his body without noticing the blood staining his white dress shirt.

“Joon?” your voice cuts through the hazy fog that was his trip down memory lane. Blinking back your tears, you cup his face to bring him back to reality. It hadn’t taken you long to figure out that when Namjoon spaced out, it took a great deal to bring him back. But not with you. Never with you. Because, somehow, your voice and touch, and yours alone could bring him back in a matter of seconds. When his brown eyes finally clear, you smile softly at him.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” he says, taking your wrists in his large hands and running his thumbs along the veins of them. A smirk plays on his lips when he notices you shiver. Not from the cold, but from him. “I’m supposed to be the one comforting you. Not the other way around. What was it that Minseok wanted anyway?”

“To have dinner. Or breakfast. Or, I don’t really know, but I know it had to do with eating in the same vicinity as each other,” you sigh and slump against the cool metal of your car. “I’m not exactly up for it, but I guess I should go. He says mom’s been asking for me, but I–.”

“What an asshole,” comes a familiar voice. One you aren’t exactly expecting, so when you jump, Hoseok’s deep chuckle cuts through the parking lot. You always wondered how he managed to stalk around without making a single noise. You feel Namjoon tense and tighten his hold on your wrists.

The taller man turns to his friend with a snarl on his face. “A little warning next time, jackass.”

Hoseok shrugs and purses his lips in an innocent way that makes you giggle. A grin splits his face as Namjoon scowls at him for being able to make you laugh when he himself couldn’t. “It’s late. Or early. Or fucking…whatever. Can we just go now? We kind of have someplace to be, you know.”

And by someplace, Hoseok means waiting outside of Choi Hyunwoo’s apartment to grab his ass and get back to Taehyung. He quirks his brow up at Namjoon, rolling his eyes when Namjoon ignores him to face you. He turns his back to give you guys some privacy, but fuck if he’ll stand there all day watching Namjoon make goo goo eyes at you.

“Don’t let Minseok guilt you into seeing him,” Namjoon says, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “I understand that you feel it over not seeing your mother as often as you think you should. It’s why I’m more than happy to set her up with private home care. That way you can also cut down on your part time jobs. They’re wearing you down.”

“Real charming, Joon,” you snort and shove him away. “But you know I can’t take you up on that offer. It wouldn’t feel right if I couldn’t at least help you pay for her care.”

“Then, for the time being,” he says through grit teeth, “at least let me stave off Minseok.” He’s quick to wrap his arms around your waist and haul your chest to his. Your squeak of surprise makes him chuckle and you blush. “Hobi, do me a favor. Take a picture of this.”

You don’t have time to question what the hell he was talking about because he winds his fingers through your hair, tilts your face up, and pretends to slants his lips against yours. You inhale sharply at the contact, fingers digging into his jacket in a death grip, and oddly, found it far too easy to lean into his faux kiss. Your eyes meet the intensity of his brown orbs, bouncing back and forth as if searching for something. Reason, perhaps? Or signs of insanity. Because why the hell else would Namjoon go to such lengths just to get Minseok off your back?

Namjoon’s gaze deepens, his pupils dilating from the proximity. He can’t seem to remember that it was meant to be fake. He was meant to look like he was kissing you, not actually doing it. But he’d be lying if he told himself he didn’t want to know what your chapstick tastes like. If it’s the usual, nauseating taste. Or if this is one of the rare times you’d reached for the strawberry flavored lip balm. He almost chuckles as he imagines you rummaging through your bedside drawer and plucking your least favorite flavor in your haste to get to work on time. He always tells you to toss the hated flavor in the trash, but you, for whatever reason, never do. Apparently, you only keep it in “just in case” situations. Situations such as running late for work and not having the time to turn your apartment upside down in search of the usual, worn down tube of chapstick.

Distantly, you recognize the faint sound of a cell phone camera going off, but when Namjoon sweeps the pad of his thumb along your bottom lip, your thighs clench together as the feel of the roughly callused finger sets your body on fire. It’s such a simple gesture and yet, you find yourself unable to catch your breath. When he pulls on your lip as he traces a path down to grip your chin, you rise to the tips of your toes in anticipation. You’re far too ready to kiss him, and a part of you panics when a deep chuckle rumbles in his chest. You flush, embarrassed to have been caught leaning into his touch so shamelessly. You consider punching him as you usually do when he manages to fluster you, but then he presses in further, his own plump lips skimming across your mouth in an almost kiss that has you panting with need. Your eyelids become heavy and they close as pure, unadulterated desire pounds deep in your bones and your fingers card through his soft hair. You feel him shiver against the feel of your nails gently scratching the hair at the nape of his neck.

Namjoon knows he has to gain control of the situation soon. It was spiraling, and quickly, and he was more than willing to allow it to happen. But he doesn’t want the first of many kisses to come, be one that stems from him trying to piss off your ex-boyfriend. Because there will be more to come. He will taste you properly and he will continue to do so until you say otherwise. You, and only you, have the kind of control over him that no one ever has. Not even Taehyung.

“Namjoon,” you whisper and you swear an actual groan leaves his mouth because your lips bump against his as you speak. “Please,” you beg even though you’re sure this is an entirely bad idea. Heat pools in your lower belly as you press up against him, his thigh slotting between the apex of your legs, a noise of excitement leaving your throat as he leans in.

“I’m only going to stand here for so long to watch you guys pretend to swap spit,” Hoseok comments in irritation. “It’s hot, sure, but we’ve got more important things to do, Namjoon.”

When Namjoon parts from you, the both of you are panting, breaths mingling in the cold night air. His hand moves from the nape of your neck to slide down along the line of your jaw. His thumb sweeps across your cheek softly and he takes his time to look over your flushed face and heaving chest. Your eyes are still closed, making his chest swell with pride when one shift of his body makes your fingers tighten in his hair.

You don’t even notice you’ve done it, not until you finally open your eyes to find that you are the one keeping him in place. Quickly, you release him and try to create some distance, but you only bump into your car door. You want to be angry with him. You want to question what the hell he was thinking. But most of all, you want to understand why it didn’t bother you nearly as much as you thought it would. You’d known him since you were 18 and never once had it crossed your mind that he’d ever find you attractive. The same couldn’t be said for you, though, because you’d always harbored a small crush on him. You’d thought dating Minseok would quell that ache for Namjoon’s attention, but it really didn’t and you kind of felt bad when a small part of you wondered what Namjoon’s hand would feel like in place of Minseok’s on your skin.

“Send this to him,” Namjoon’s deep voice startles you while he holds out Hoseok’s phone. He watches, amused, as you stare at the picture on the phone. He can see your mind working in overtime as you process the seemingly loving embrace Hoseok managed to capture. “Minseok’s always thought you and I were together at some point, or even hooked up, so it’s not that odd to see us like this.”

“No, you can’t!” you squeak and try to snatch the phone from his hand. That attempt fails as he easily maneuvers out of reach. “Don’t send that, Namjoon!”

Hoseok snatches the phone from Namjoon’s hand and stalks off back to the car. He’s mumbling something under his breath that you can’t make sense of and slams the car door once he’s inside. Sinking down into the seat, he leans his head against the window to rest comfortably in hopes of getting some sleep.

“I have to go.” Namjoon sounds reluctant to leave as he steps away. He knows Hoseok already sent the picture to Minseok so there was no backing out now. In fact, Minseok should be calling you any second and he wishes he could stick around for that conversation, but Hoseok was right. If he didn’t leave now, then they’d miss Hyunwoo and the last thing they need is Taehyung tearing into them for screwing up. “Minseok will be calling soon. Ignore it, go home, get some sleep. I’ll check on you later.”

“But, I–.” you try to protest as he walks off and right on cue, your phone rings with irritating familiarity. “Damn it.”

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“Why are you fucking with your own feelings just to piss off Minseok?” Hoseok questions Namjoon on the ride back home. He pays no mind to the muffled groaning coming from Hyunwoo lying on the floor of the van they’d swapped into later that morning. “It’s only going to get worse from here now. You know that, right?”

“Shut up,” Namjoon grumbles from the driver seat. He can’t say Hoseok’s wrong, he hardly ever is, but Namjoon isn’t willing to admit that. His grip on the steering wheel tightens as the memory of your lips and your touch, it all comes to the forefront of his mind and makes his chest tight. He had hoped that you did as he said and went home to get some sleep, but one quick peek at your Snapchat story revealed a breakfast plate filled with eggs and toast smothered in strawberry jam. Your mother’s favorite.

“You’re still pissed off that she went to breakfast with Minseok?”

“She didn’t go with Minseok. She went to see her mom.”

“Right,” Hoseok hums delightedly, “her mother. Who is currently being taken care of by who, again? Oh, right. Minseok.”

Namjoon uses the rearview mirror to glance back at his friend with a scowl. He knew he should have left his dumb ass back at home with Yoongi after he helped them pull the van from one of his family’s many junk yards. “You can join Hyunwoo in his misery, or you can shut the fuck up.”

Hoseok tosses his head back in howling laughter as Namjoon pulls through the security gates of Taehyung’s home. Pulling up to the front of the house, he gets out of the car to meet Taehyung and Yoongi at the passenger side door. He draws open the side door to reveal Hyunwoo bound, gagged, and covered in bruises. “Hoseok went a little…overboard.”

Yoongi’s low toned whistle makes him wince because he knows that Yoongi knows his lie was complete bullshit. “Damn, RM, you really did a number on this guy.”

“He tried to run,” Namjoon says as if it’s that simple of an explanation. When Yoongi shoots him a knowing look, he rolls his eyes towards the sky. That was, in fact, not what had happened and he had used it as a not so believable excuse to beat the shit out of Hyunwoo. It was a means to vent his frustration and Hoseok had let it happen without complaint. Then again, Hoseok never really complained about any kind of violence. Save for the few domestic ones he’d seen over the years. Oh, he’d always let his knife or gun do the talking then.

Taehyung climbs into the passenger seat and taps on the window as a sign for them to hurry the hell up before his wife comes storming outside. His phone rings while Yoongi jumps in the back with Hoseok and Hyunwoo. He answers it with a smirk on his face while Namjoon reclaims his seat behind the wheel.

Namjoon isn’t entirely sure what the conversation is about but it was pretty amusing to watch Hyunwoo lose his shit. When Taehyung throws out an innuendo that clearly has his wife panicking, he tries to hide his smile as Taehyung pulls the phone from his ear and stares at it.

“She hung up on me,” Taehyung comments in disbelief. He really shouldn’t be surprised that Nabi would hang up on him after his little quip, or the fact that she hadn’t entirely forgiven him for their fight last night. But if there’s one thing Namjoon’s come to learn in the decades of friendship with his six brothers, it’s that they’re all the smartest people he knows…and the dumbest. It’s a good balance of brains and stupidity, it keeps things fresh.

“I’m shocked she didn’t do more than yell at you last night,” Namjoon laughs. “Or that you didn’t kill Yoongi for being an instigator.”

“What good would it do me to be rid of him?” Taehyung catches Yoongi’s eye in the mirror. “But he is lucky I didn’t at least shoot him for it.”

“Jimin was the one who made it worse by giving you the spare key to your guys’ room,” Yoongi defends himself with a roll of his eyes. “Did it not get worse after you opened that door and Nabi nearly tore your head off?”

“Jimin’s not out of the woods either.” Taehyung scrolls through his phone, swiping through picture after picture that Hoseok had sent him earlier. Each of them include Hyunwoo stalking down various streets in his attempt to follow one of Nabi’s best friends. He thumbs through each one until…

“Is this a picture of you kissing Y/N, Namjoon?” Taehyung’s eyebrows shoot so far up that they nearly disappear into his hairline.

“Hoseok!” Namjoon barks back at his friend. “I said send it to Minseok, not broadcast it to everyone we know.”

Hoseok shrugs from his spot in the back. “As I recall, I said I wasn’t going to stand around all day while you guys made out. But you made me wait anyway. So, that’s on you.”

“My god, Namjoon, you really didn’t hold back, did you?” Yoongi is too busy peeking over Taehyung’s shoulder to notice Namjoon holding up his middle finger.

“Clearly, she didn’t either,” Taehyung notes, turning slightly so Yoongi can get a better look.

“Stop it,” Namjoon hisses, reaching out to take the phone from Taehyung. “You guys are like fucking children. It’s a wonder how Nabi can stand the two of you.”

“You’re awfully angry for someone who kissed the girl he’s been pining after for 10 years,” comes Yoongi’s voice.

“I didn’t really kiss her,” Namjoon growls low in his throat and contemplates shoving Yoongi out of the moving van. “And I haven’t been fucking pining, you prick.”

“Someone’s pretty fucking testy this morning,” his senior hisses back, having had enough of Namjoon’s pissy attitude.

“He’s just pissed that she spent the morning with Minsoek,” Hoseok not so helpfully supplies. “Apparently the picture didn’t do much to deter the poor bastard from asking her out again. Remind me why it ended between them again?”

Namjoon grips the wheel so tight that his arm shakes with barely restrained anger. Your relationship with Minseok ended on a relatively civil note. Something that always bothered Namjoon because it would have been easier for you to let go of him, or for Minseok to let go of you if things had just ended badly. But that hadn’t been the case. At least not from what you’d told him. You’d called him one night and, in an eerily calm voice, explained that Minseok had broken up with you. All of the time spent apart because of your part time jobs and having to tend to your mother had finally made him snap. You’d gone on to say that you weren’t really sure why you’d been so surprised. After all, Namjoon had been hinting at it for months but you’d never taken it seriously. It hadn’t bothered you that Minseok chose to part ways, maybe that’s why it angered Minseok when you didn’t want to reconcile. Maybe a part of him thought and still thinks that you didn’t care for him as much as he was led to believe.

Good, Namjoon thinks to himself. Good, because fuck Minseok and fuck his selfishness for leaving you at your most vulnerable, and then turning around and hoping to get back together. Namjoon will be damned before that ever happens.

He tunes back into the conversation when it steers to Nabi’s best friend, Soyoung, whom Hyunwoo had been tailing. They inform him that Soyoung can be just as cruel as Nabi if not more, and Hyunwoo seems caught off guard. Namjoon finds it easy to fall into the cruel amusement his boss and friends have at Hyunwoo’s expense. That is, until Yoongi brings up the subject of what you and Minseok could have possibly been up to if you weren’t answering Namjoon’s calls or texts. Namjoon quickly shuts down once more, sneering at Yoongi’s reflection in the mirror.

“Damn,” Hoseok sighs and pockets his switchblade as they come up on Taehyung’s father’s building. “Now you guys have done it. He’ll be pissy the rest of the day now.”

“Us?” Yoongi hisses, pushing Hoseok’s shoulder roughly as they scramble out of the van. “You’re the one who brought it up first, dumbass.”

“You didn’t have to mention that she hasn’t responded, dipshit.”

“Enough,” Taehyung hushes them as they walk through the back doors of his father’s building. He doesn’t often use them, but given how they’re still holding Hyunwoo hostage, he doesn’t really have a choice now. “We’ll talk about this later,” he addresses Namjoon after stepping into the elevator.

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Namjoon thanks whatever higher power that keeps Taehyung occupied with the Seong brothers at lunch so he can thumb through his phone once more. He’s been waiting all fucking day for you to answer his call, which is yet to happen. He knows he said you needed to get sleep, but damn it, he wishes he could go and check on you. That, and the fact that he and Taehyung are still reeling from their earlier argument is on his mind. Taehyung’s plan to put Nabi and Hyunwoo in the same room as each other while giving Hyunwoo the freedom to move about honestly scares Namjoon. It’s clear that Nabi is capable of handling herself against any normal person, but Hyunwoo has grown up in the center of the mafia, being spoiled and coddled so much by his father that he believed he was entitled to anything he wanted. This included Nabi. It makes Namjoon’s stomach turn sour at the thought of putting Nabi in a situation that could potentially destroy her strong mindset. But Taehyung has all the faith in the world in his wife and Namjoon can’t blame him. Nabi is the furthest thing from timid and weak.

Thunder crashes in the sky above and lightning follows, leaving their entire party to rush inside the cafe Nabi’s chosen to eat at. As they filter inside, Yoongi is hissing underneath his breath about getting caught in the rain while he shucks his jacket off to lay across an empty table. Jungkook and Jimin don’t miss the opportunity to piss him off further by shaking their hair about and spraying water everywhere.

“Damn it,” Hoseok seethes at the two youngest, resisting the urge to slap one or both of them upside the head. “Can you two be any less civilized?”

“Jungkook!” Namjoon slaps his shoulder after the youngest wrings out his jacket over top of Hoseok’s head. As if Hoseok wasn’t one of the most dangerous men in the city. “Behave.”

Jungkook snorts in response and sets his jacket flat over the same table Yoongi has his splayed about. He’s the only one of them to not notice Taehyung drag Nabi off towards the bathrooms and Namjoon’s eye twitches when the Seong brothers do notice and 4 out of the 5 men move to stop them from following Taehyung and Nabi. It would be alot easier if Jungkook would pull his head out of his ass and get it together.

“You can’t really expect us to stand here and do nothing?” Joongki, the oldest Seong brother and Nabi’s cousin, tries to shove past Namjoon.

“Unless you want to walk in on a very intimate moment,” Hoseok warns him while wrangling Jeonghan, Nabi’s other cousin, to an empty booth. “I suggest you sit the hell down and leave them be.”

“Nabi will be embarrassed enough without the two of you storming in there.” Yoongi grips Joongki’s shoulder and helps Namjoon shove him into the other side of the booth. “Know and understand this, Taehyung cherishes your cousin more than any of us here. There’s not a damn thing in this world that could stop him from giving her anything and everything she wants and needs. He will not hurt her, he will not coerce her into what’s happening, and he for damn sure will absolutely not touch her without her express permission.”

“Joongki,” Namjoon catches his attention, “I know you’re smarter than this. I know you would not have let Taehyung put Nabi under our roof if you thought we couldn’t keep her safe. None of us would let Taehyung hurt her. Jungkook nearly got himself killed multiple times just for stepping in between their arguments. Don’t lose your cool because you can’t handle that Nabi’s a grown woman.”

Finally, the Seong brothers seem to accept the words Yoongi and Namjoon speak, and Namjoon sighs in relief now that he can check his phone again. Still, nothing from you and it makes his blood boil. “Son of a bitch,” he grumbles, dialing your phone number and pressing it to his ear. “I swear to God, if you don’t fucking pick up…”

“Yeah?” Your breathless voice hits his ears like a symphony and all of the blood rushes to his groin. You’re met with absolute silence and pull the phone back to check if Namjoon had hung up. “Joon? You there?”

He coughs as his throat dries up and attempts to clear it in hopes of not sounding so gruff when he answers, “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

“Just a little,” you huff out another breathless laugh. “It’s okay though. I had to get up and get some grocery shopping done before my shift at the diner tonight.”

“You should have done that after your breakfast with Minseok,” he growls, letting his temper get the best of him. “Then you could have slept longer.”

“I slept long enough.” You know he can practically hear your eye roll. “Joon, I didn’t have breakfast with Minseok. I went to visit my mother and he was there. He does happen to work there, you know.”

“Didn’t seeing my tongue down your throat scare him off?” he snaps back in response. “Didn’t it piss him off the way it pisses me off that he really thinks he has a chance after I sent you to him wet and ready for me?”

“Namjoon!” you gasp, clenching your thighs together as you had earlier that morning. What had gotten into him? He’s never spoken to you this way and while it did get you a little hot and bothered, it also reminds you of the almost kiss you’d shared. Something that most definitely should not have happened. It left you wanting much more and knowing you can’t have it. It’s a line you swore you’d never cross with Namjoon, not when he was your oldest and only friend. It would complicate things and you couldn’t handle losing him if it tore the friendship apart.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” his voice cuts through your thoughts, making your heartbeat skyrocket. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, that wasn’t okay for me to say. I’m just—.”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear whatever explanation he has for momentarily forgetting you were his best friend, not one of the usual girls he sleeps with. “Look, Namjoon, I have to go. It’s going to get late and I won’t be able to get everything done that I need to.”

“Y/N, wait. I—.”

“And don’t stop by the diner tonight.” You’re adamant in this because a few of your co-workers had spotted him this morning and texted you to ask if you’d been dating again. You don’t need them to think you’re attached to anyone, especially not Namjoon of all people. It would only make things awkward when he inevitably got a long time girlfriend and you were stuck having to explain everything.

“Why the fuck not?” Namjoon tries his best to keep his voice down, but he’s not doing a very good job as Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s heads whip his way. “The area around the diner is dangerous, Y/N, I’ll be damned if anything happens to you.” He’s seething and it shows in his voice after hearing his full name from your lips. He’d learned long ago that if he made you angry enough, you would forgo his nickname in favor of his full name, and he never realized how much he hated hearing you say it until right this moment. “Where is this coming from?”

“People will talk, Namjoon,” you mumble, scooting to the edge of your bed in search of your pajama shorts. Your air conditioner has been on the fritz lately and it picks and chooses when to work. Today, it decided it did not want to work. Though it was still nice and cool outside, your apartment was like a damn furnace since the window latch had been broken. Admittedly, you don’t live in the greatest building with the greatest landlord. Or the greatest part of town. But it’s a roof over your head, so you can’t really complain. Namjoon had lost his shit time and time again when it came to your apartment so you decided to stop telling him all of its issues entirely.

“So, let them talk,” he growls, turning away from Yoongi’s questioning gaze. His stare, in turn, had the rest of the guys and Taehyung’s parents staring as well. It makes Namjoon tense up when they notice he’s losing this argument. “Don’t take that chance just because I pissed you off, Y/N. Don’t push me away and shut me out because I’m being an asshole. That’s my fault and I’m sorry. But don’t…” he sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. He can hear the rustling of your sheets as you move about your bed. His throat bobs at the thought of what the hell you could be doing to make that much noise. “Just don’t, baby, please.”

Baby.

He called you baby and a part of you softens at the pet name. The other part of you gets angry that he would try to manipulate you by saying it. You’ve watched him charm girl after girl when he got bored enough and every single time, they fell for it. You hated it. Hated how they got to see a part of him he would never show you because of your friendship. Hated that he was using those same tactics now to manipulate you into forgiving him. Your chest feels tight and there’s a hitch in your breath when you tell him, “I don’t want people to think we’re together. It’s bad enough Minseok bought into the picture Hobi sent him. I don’t need my coworkers thinking I’m ready to date again. Especially not you.”

He takes offense to that. So much so that his knuckles curl into a fist, one that’s two seconds away from meeting the wall in front of him until Jimin taps his shoulder. It’s enough to make him look up and find that everyone was ready to go after the rain finally settled. Poor Nabi looks ready to combust, her entire face as red as a tomato, and Taehyung looks too fucking smug for Namjoon’s liking. He hangs up without bidding you goodbye because if he opens his mouth to say anything at all, it’ll only upset you even more. Especially not him? What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

His life was never meant for someone permanent or special to be invited into. Not with the constant danger lurking around every corner, or the men he regularly spends time around because of Taehyung and his own family ties into the mafia. While his father treats his mother like a goddess, and Taehyung does the same with Nabi, Namjoon couldn’t see himself treating anyone with that kind of respect while you were around. You occupy too many of his thoughts. He’s aware that all of this falls on him. His unyielding thought process of never fully committing to someone because of you, is entirely his own fucking fault, and he knows it. His parents would be ashamed of him if he were to ever marry and be unfaithful. Then again, who would he be unfaithful with if not you? You’d never allow it. You have too much self respect to ever be the other woman. It’s one of the things Namjoon respects the most about you. Some women didn’t care if they were some man’s side piece in the mob. It meant expensive gifts, expensive trips, hell, some men even bought their mistresses homes in order to keep them happy. It wasn’t odd for it to happen, but Namjoon had taken great care to surround himself with people fully devoted to treating women as more than just play things. He never thought he’d ever actually find friends like that, until he’d met Taehyung, and then Yoongi, and Hoseok, and so on.

He’s never told you what he does for “work” and you’ve never really asked. He can never truly tell you the truth unless he was willing to drag you into his life completely. Obviously, he really is ready, but you’d never plunge into this life head first without thinking of the consequences. It’s a dangerous line to toe and he knows he shouldn’t push, but clearly Minseok had said something to make you doubt him. Minseok had always made you second guess the things Namjoon did and said, and you’d cave under the guilty weight of taking Namjoon’s side over your boyfriends. Minseok had been able to weasel his way into your life and shove Namjoon out to the brink of Namjoon nearly storming to Minseok’s house with Hoseok and Jimin in tow.

Damn. He has to get you away from Minseok. And soon. Because if he wormed his way underneath your skin, Namjoon would well and truly kill him this time.

Parting ways with Mrs. Kim’s car filled with Nabi, her cousins, Jimin, and Jungkook, Namjoon plopped into the driver's side of the van they’d arrived in. Taehyung, Yoongi, and Hoseok follow suit, all silently climbing into the car in a much more gingerly manner than Namjoon himself had. Taehyung, while still sexed out of his mind, still had the decency to ask if his friend was alright.

“Sounded pretty intense,” Hoseok said from the back seat, eyeing Namjoon’s rigid form. “What did Y/N say to piss you off so much? Because the last time I saw that look in your eye, we nearly wiped out the entire Lee family. They still haven’t forgiven us, by the way. Mr. Kim’s got them nearly beating down his door to get to you, Namjoon.”

The tall man pretends not to hear a word Hoseok says because of course he remembers. He’d gotten into a fight with you then too. He vividly remembers how you’d questioned his lengthy absence when you never had before. You’d always figured his business was his alone and you shouldn’t butt in. But that time, Minseok had managed to convince you that Namjoon simply didn’t want to be around because of Minseok’s presence. While that rang true, Namjoon couldn’t exactly tell you that he’d been sent on an assignment to the Maldives with Hoseok to deal with a shipment the Lee family was in control of. He’d been gone for almost an entire month when you finally called, only to ask if he’d tired of you. He could remember the sound of your voice cracking as you tried to hold back tears. He had tried to explain, tried to tell you that it was for work, but he could hear Minseok’s mousy fucking voice in the background, taunting you in a sickeningly sweet way that only he could. You’d said your goodbyes to Namjoon, almost sounding final, and Namjoon. Had. Gone. Feral. Absolutely apeshit and cut down a good portion of the Lee men because he’d been pissed. Later, he’d told Taehyung that the family was indeed skimming some of the product, which was why he’d been sent to the Maldives in the first place. He’d silently cursed Taehyung back then, well and truly hated the man that had become his brother, and for what? A stupid argument that Minseok had incited?

Taehyung clocks Namjoon’s grip on the wheel and winces at how his friend is about to lose all self control and possibly kill what little is left of the Choi family. For Namjoon to completely lose himself again, means that whatever is bothering him has to do with you. Taehyung almost feels bad for him, and he would offer some advice if he didn’t have bigger problems at hand. What he can do is try to free up some time for Namjoon to work things out however he needs to. Though, if this is anything like the situation with the Lee family, Taehyung can’t imagine the hell Namjoon will rain down on the poor sucker stupid enough to even so much as slightly push the wrong button. It would be a bloodbath of epic proportions and Taehyung runs a hand down his face at the thought. They can’t afford for Namjoon to be distracted right now, but it was inevitable. Every so often, Namjoon loses focus and becomes completely and utterly consumed by you. Even if you don’t know it.

Yoongi watches Hyunwoo raise a curious brow at Namjoon’s behavior and the tense silence compared to the friendly banter earlier. When he turns to meet Yoongi’s stare, Yoongi sneers at him so viciously that it makes Hyunwoo visibly recoil. He smirks and looks out the front windshield, watching the buildings pass by in a blur. He can see the cogs in the machine that is Namjoon’s genius brain turn and turn. Something had to have gone completely wrong with you if it’s gotten this bad again. He can see Namjoon’s pupils dilate with the rush of adrenaline he’s sure to unleash on Hyunwoo if he makes one wrong move. He’s quite sure that Namjoon almost hopes the Choi family fucks up so it’ll give him a reason to go nuts. Namjoon lives on fear and chaos, it’s one of the things that made him so frightening and dangerous. It’s one of the many things Taehyung had sought him out for as teenagers. By that age, Namjoon had quite the body count and truthfully, if he and Hoseok had to go toe to toe, everyone knows it would be pretty damn close. What makes him even more scary is that no one would ever be able to tell how much blood stains his hands because of his cool and calm demeanor.

Hoseok almost pays no mind to Namjoon’s disheveled state as he plays with his switchblade, every so often leaning over to knick Hyunwoo’s skin. It was almost torture and Hoseok knows if anyone could appreciate it, it’s Namjoon. However, with Namjoon’s lack of self awareness, Hoseok finds that he must enjoy this by himself. Really, he’s worried that Namjoon’s going to go on a rampage again. It took them forever to clean up the mess in the Maldives. Not to mention the complete shitshow that followed and Mr. Kim had to sort out enough for there to be some sense of civility. Goddamn it, he really doesn’t need another disaster on his hands. The Choi family better pray for themselves because God only knows what Namjoon is cooking up in his head.

Namjoon’s phone rings in the silence and actually makes Taehyung jump a little. He glances down to find the name “Hana” in bold letters taking up the screen. Namjoon lets it go to voicemail because Taehyung’s sure that it isn’t exactly the name he wants to pop up on his phone right now. He doesn’t know who the girl is, but if you catch wind of it, then it won’t be good. The phone rings again and Namjoon picks it up with some bite in his tone.

“What?” Namjoon snaps.

“Oh, hey,” Hana purrs back, giggling even though she can tell how mad he is. “Are you busy? I’m kind of bored and thought—.”

“We fucked once, Hana,” he sneers, “and it wasn’t exactly memorable for me, so find a different dick to suck.”

“Fuck you, Namjoon!” she screeches at his audacity. “You know, I don’t exactly remember you complaining when I sucked your dick, you asshole! Here’s a tip, Namjoon, maybe don’t be a complete prick the next time a woman reaches out to satisfy you. There won’t be many left if you continue on like that.”

“You’re a placeholder, Hana.” Namjoon smirks and the guys in the van inwardly groan because now some poor girl is about to get the brunt of his wrath. “I don’t want anyone else, just one girl, and she’s not you. Maybe some small, pathetic part of you had hoped you were special but you’re really not. I was drunk and bored and you were willing to spread your legs for me, so fuck off.”

Taehyung winces as Namjoon slams his phone back on the center console. Jesus fucking Christ, that was brutal. Namjoon’s not exactly a saint but he’s very rarely crude to a girl. Whatever you’d argued about must have messed him up good if he was speaking that way to someone. They reach the house just after Nabi’s car gets there and Taehyung basically leaps out of the van to usher his wife from the car.

Namjoon locks eyes with Nabi for a second before he turns his glare to Taehyung because not only does he have to deal with the Choi family, he’s still steaming from his conversation with you. He doesn’t see Nabi frown, only concentrating on getting Hyunwoo into the house without her seeing. He shoves Hyunwoo harder than necessary when Yoongi has to prod him forward with a gun. God, he can only hope this was enough to release some of the tension simmering beneath his skin.

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You’re almost halfway through grocery shopping when a sense of dread settles in your chest. You don’t know what it is or how it was even brought on, but you know there’s something not right. You round the corner of the canned food aisle, determined to get away from whatever it was when you bump into a firm chest. Strong hands reach out to steady you while your breath catches. You look up to find a handsome stranger with the oddest smile on his face. It’s not menacing but it certainly isn’t friendly either. “Sorry,” you mumble, taking a step back to create some much needed distance.

He only smiles wider, raking a hand through his dark hair and waving his hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s not a problem at all. It’s my fault, actually. I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you alright?”

“Um, yeah, I’m fine.” You blink up at him, unsure of whether or not you should even keep talking to him. Namjoon always hated the way you’d become friendly with anyone, especially strangers. You’d called him out on it once, insisting that he was just being paranoid, but he didn’t budge. He always says no one can be trusted, but then you wonder what exactly makes him so trustworthy, or why he trusts you at all. The thought of your best friend sends a pang through your heart and you frown. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so harsh with him earlier. He was only trying to help, but you let your insecurities shine through and lashed out at him.

“Kang Chunghee,” he says, offering his hand in greeting. He can see the apprehension on your face even as you take his hand in yours and shake it. Taking a step too close, he towers over you in a way that almost makes you cower away. His eyes roam down your body from head to toe, but you’re so busy looking everywhere but him that you don’t notice. Your hair, he notes, and face look so much like your mother’s that it’s a wonder why you hadn’t been spotted before now. Then again, his father wasn’t exactly looking to make trouble with the Kim family, but he’d found out about your mother’s illness and insisted on seeking you out. His hand tightens briefly, making you wince, as the memories of his own mother begging his father to leave “that woman” be and come back home to her. He never did, of course, and soon sent Chunghee’s mother spiraling into a world of drugs and alcohol. Both of which killed her not long after your birth.

“Cho Y/N,” you reply with a hiss, trying to pull your hand from his. It takes a moment for him to realize he’d been holding on too tight and quickly drops your hand. You take this chance to scan his face and realize he looks vaguely familiar but you can’t quite place it anywhere. He could just be one of the many patrons that have come and gone from the diner. You meet so many people at your job that it’s not entirely out of the ordinary to run into someone while out and about. As if on cue, your phone rings and you scramble for it in hopes that it’s Namjoon and you can apologize, but you’re disappointed to find that it’s your manager instead. You give Chunghee a polite smile before stepping away to answer the call. She only asks if you can come in a bit early as one of the other waitresses has called in sick. You sigh and check your watch to ask for some extra time to go home and get ready. Throughout the entire conversation, you notice that Chunghee hasn’t left your side at all, and you tense up when he steps closer once more after ending your phone call.

“Ah, I have to apologize,” he says and takes a step back to give you some space. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Um.” You shift on the balls of your feet, clutching your phone tight in your hand and contemplating calling Namjoon. You shake your head. No. His paranoia is simply rubbing off on you and this guy hasn’t really done anything to offend or scare you other than being a little too interested. You remind yourself that at one point, Minseok had been the same way before he finally worked up the courage to ask you out on a date. “I really should get going.”

“Oh, of course.” Chunghee gestures for you to go ahead and walk on, bidding you goodbye with a simple wave. Once you round the corner to the registers, his smile slowly fades into a grimace. If your mother is as beautiful as you are, then he can see why his father was tempted by her. His chest grows tight and bile rises in his throat that he has to swallow down. As a child he’d always wondered why his father could so easily cast him and his mother aside. Looking at you now, he sees exactly why. He’s only ever seen photos of your mother and none of you, but his father had told him it’s because he didn’t even know you existed. Not until your mother had grown sick and you’d somehow gotten tangled up in one of the notorious Kim family’s webs. Fool, he thinks of you. If only you had never come up on the Kim family’s radar then you never would have come up on his father’s. Or, he supposes, he’s your father as well.

He gives you all of 2 minutes to get ahead of him before he stalks out of the grocery store to see you climb into a junker car that he can’t even fathom why it would even still exist. He slips into his own car, a much nicer one, and peels out of the parking lot just a little after you do. He takes turn after turn and a muscle in his jaw ticks when it dawns on him that you don’t even notice you’re being followed, and even worse, his eye visibly twitches after parking down the street from a rundown building that you seem to be living in. “For fuck’s sake,” he sighs to himself, running a hand down his face. He’s meant to hate you, to loathe your mother for stealing away his father’s attention and causing his mother to lose her damn mind. But a twinge of guilt eats away at him. His father was never the greatest man, but Chunghee’s certainly lived a much more lavish life than you have. His father may have laid his hands on him quite a few times during his childhood, but you’re so carefree that he’s actually envious, and even still, he feels bad that you’ve had to go nights hungry while he was gifted with so much food that he didn’t know what to do with it. He was 28 when he’d learned of your existence and by then you were already 18, living paycheck to paycheck and working yourself to the bone to afford your mother’s medical costs. Until that point, he and his father had always wondered where your mother had disappeared to. According to his father, she’d up and left one day, leaving behind most of her belongings for the obvious reason that she never wanted to be found again. She’d even changed her name and lived 18 blissful long years in the shadows.

Chunghee can only wonder how she’d never figured out who his father was until it was too late. If he’s correct in his math, she’d already been pregnant with you when she skipped town. Which means she had to have found out that his father was both married and a dangerous man. He can commend her for wanting to protect you, which was far more than his father was willing to do for him. If you weren’t somehow tied to the Kim family, then Kang Himchan would have swooped in and stolen you away long ago. But with Kim Namjoon hovering around so often, the older Kang could only grit his teeth and turn a blind eye if he didn’t want to overstep and start problems.

He’s pulled from his thoughts when you emerge from the building, basically running, and jump in your car to speed off. He looks at the clock on his dashboard, guessing that you took far longer than you thought you would to get ready. He gives you a few extra miles before he starts down the same road you’d gone, following along until he reaches the diner just before exiting the city. It’s far, he realizes as another glance at the clock shows that it took almost an hour to get there. He’d paid no mind to the time when he’d scouted out the diner last night. He’d come out on a whim, wondering if you were well and truly under the Kim family protection, and snorted when you’d gone the entire night without so much as a hint of the Kims around. When you’d left for the night, he’d gotten out of his car to confront you, but then Namjoon had shown up, and Chunghee had frozen in place. He’d been wrong because not only had the Kims been hidden in the literal dark, Jung Hoseok had been lying in wait as well. Anyone in this line of work knows who Hoseok is, and if he’s hovering around you, then this is going to be far more complicated than he first thought. He’s tempted to go sit in the diner, but after the disaster that was the interaction in the grocery store, he doesn’t want to give you a reason to contact Namjoon. So he waits. For hours. 14, to be exact, and he finds himself shifting in his seat every 10 minutes. Why the hell he feels so inclined to sit around for your entire shift, he doesn’t know, but you have to be tired out by now. How the hell would it look if he’s the one that’s exhausted when you’re the one who’s been running around on your feet all day?

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You can feel it. You don’t know what it is or where it’s coming from, but you know you’re being watched. It’s unnerving, and while you’re trying your best to get through your shift, you also want to find out who could be watching. Not wanting to let them know you’re on to them, you keep plowing through orders and customers, running hot plates from the kitchen, cleaning off tables and kitchen utensils, and itching to reach for your phone to text Namjoon. But he hasn’t reached out to you either, making a small part of you actually want to cry because you’ve upset him. It’s not often that he gets angry with you, but when he does, it never takes very long for you to apologize or for him to check on you even if he is mad. So for him to go the entire day without contacting you is terrifying. Especially when you know something is wrong. When your shift is finally over, you say your goodbyes to your coworkers and check your phone as you head to your car. Your shoulders deflate with disappointment, thoughts swirling in your head, so much so that they drown out the sound of approaching feet. Fingers tap on your shoulder, and you whirl around with an ear piercing scream, only to have someone slap their hand over your mouth.

Hoseok looks at you with a raised brow, a little concerned with your pale face and the sweat beading down by your temples. You’re scared and he doesn’t like that. He removes his hand from your mouth, watching as your bottom lip wobbles in an attempt to hold back a sob. He grips your arms tighter than he means to. “What happened?”

You heave out a sigh of relief, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. “Oh, Hobi. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scream like that.”

“You obviously had a reason to, so help me out here, and tell me what could have scared you so much.”

“It’s nothing,” you promise even though you know you shouldn’t lie. Hoseok’s always been good at telling when someone’s lying and you’re not entirely sure why you even tried. You watch him scan the dark parking lot anyways, fingers nearly bruising your skin with the force of his grip. You wince out loud, regaining his attention and he lets go of you.

“I’m sorry.” He frowns, reaching up to pat down your messy hair. “I came to check on you. Namjoon’s been out of it all day and I know you guys fought.”

“It was stupid,” you whisper, casting your eyes to the ground in shame. Hoseok showing up on Namjoon’s behalf means that your best friend isn’t anywhere near ready to speak to you again. You really screwed up this time if he sent Hoseok all the way out here when he could have just called you himself. You feel awful that Hoseok even drove all the way out here in person just because you’re having a difficult time processing everything from the day before. The way Namjoon held you and looked at you, it was far better than you ever imagined, and you let your insecurities get the best of you. You’re doing what you’ve always done when someone gets too close. You’re pushing him away like you used to when you were dating Minseok. The two of you had fought more than usual while you were with Minseok, and this fight reminds you of those times.

“It can’t be that stupid if you guys are this messed up over it.” Hoseok keeps petting your hair with affection, but he’s not fooled. Something else is going on here and you’re not being honest with him. He’s scared you before, albeit playfully, but even when he’d done it in earnest, you’ve never reacted that way. He’ll have to bring it up with Namjoon and hopefully it’ll be enough to pull his head out of his ass. After the disastrous confrontation between Nabi, the Choi family, and Taehyung, Namjoon had been even more on edge and left the house. Hoseok had assumed he’d come to tail you, but he wasn’t picking up his phone, so Hoseok drove out here to check. He’d grown worried when he got to the diner and didn’t see Namjoon’s car anywhere, so he’d gotten out to come ask you when his phone pinged with a message from Namjoon. He’d told Hoseok that he just needed air to clear his head and he was on his way back to the house. Hoseok was ready to leave it alone and go back himself, but his instincts had kicked in, and rightfully so. He considers memorizing the license plates currently in the parking lot to have Yoongi run when he gets back, but decides against it when he hears your car door open.

“It is,” you remind him. “It’s a stupid fight over a stupid thing and Namjoon wouldn’t get it, and I said some things I shouldn’t have. I just want some space, Hobi, is that too much?”

“Yes,” he growls, holding out the car door for you to climb in. “It’s too much for Namjoon and you know that, Y/N. He doesn’t like space when it comes to you and this fight is affecting all of us. We’re his friends too, Y/N, and it’s out of the ordinary for us to see him this way.”

“Then space is exactly what we need.” You slam the door shut, leaving Hoseok pleasantly surprised by your outburst. You’ve never taken that much attitude with him and he’s a little amused by it. You’re careful not to run over his feet as you back out of the parking space, giving him a small wave before driving away. Peering in the rearview mirror, you watch him fade into the background and miss the way his body locks up.

Hoseok turns slightly, meeting the eyes of someone he’s not quite familiar with, before the person rolls up their car window. There, he thinks. That’s what, or rather who, was bothering you. He glares at his reflection in the window as the car drives away, pulling his phone from his pocket to dial Namjoon’s number.

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Namjoon sits in one of the lounge chairs in his small library at the house, his hair sticking up in every direction after running his hands through it. After the confrontation earlier with Nabi and the Choi family, he’d gone out for a long drive. He was tempted to drive up to your apartment, or even stake out the diner, but he wasn’t sure he could handle seeing you without forcing a conversation. The last thing he wants is to disrespect your boundaries, but his skin prickles at the thought of not checking up on you. He could never forgive himself if something were to happen to you. A light knock on the doorframe gets his attention and he looks up to find Nabi leaning against it.

She gives him a soft smile when he gestures to the empty chair across from him, striding across the room to sit. “Are you alright?” “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” he snorts in response, pinching the bridge of his nose as the tension in his neck travels up to the base of his skull. “It was a hard day for you.”

She nods slightly. “Namjoon, can I…” she trails off, fiddling with her thumbs anxiously but he doesn’t push, only giving her the time she needs to gather her thoughts. “What I did today, with Hyunwoo, and the gun. How did it look to you guys?”

“What do you mean?” He’s obviously confused because she can’t really mean to think his opinion of her has changed to a bad one.

“Did it look like I was hiding something from you guys?”

“No,” he answers immediately. “Nabi, Hoseok told us that he suspected you weren’t exactly timid a long time ago. None of us really thought you were to begin with. Taehyung didn’t scare you, Jungkook and Jimin didn’t scare you. Hell, even Hoseok couldn’t scare you off even when you know the kinds of things we do.”

She inhales sharply, taking his hand when he offers it in support. “Growing up in this life definitely hardens a person, but sometimes I think I take it too far.”

“We’ve all had to do some unforgivable things to survive this life.” Namjoon’s thumb skims across her knuckles. “I think the way you kept that part of yourself closed off was just a way to protect yourself. There’s nothing wrong with that, even if Taehyung was angry about it. I’m glad you opened up, Nabi, it means you trust us enough to be comfortable.”

“Comfortable enough to ask what’s going on with you,” Nabi quickly changes the subject, jumping right into what she came to the library for in the first place.

“It’s Y/N,” he sighs, dropping her hand and sinking back into the chair. “I may have had Hoseok send a picture to her ex that made us look like more than friends, and she got angry with me. She said she didn’t want me hanging around the diner for awhile to avoid her coworkers asking questions. For whatever reason, she doesn’t want them to think she’s in a relationship with anyone, but before we could really get into it, I had to focus on the situation here and I haven’t called her since.”

“Namjoon,” Nabi admonishes him, slapping his arm lightly. “First of all, as much help as you think the picture was, I can promise you, it wasn’t. Secondly, how do you think she’ll feel if you start showing up around her coworkers and she has to explain that you’re just friends even though they’ve seen more? Honestly, Kim Namjoon, did you even fully think of the consequences that picture could bring?”

Namjoon opens his mouth to argue when his phone starts to ring and Nabi takes that as her victory before slinking out of the room. He shakes his head, amused but doesn’t want to admit it, before answering Hoseok’s call. “What is it?”

“Y/N’s being followed,” Hoseok wastes no time getting to the point. He’s already in his car, speeding after you and your stalker, but he was too far behind to begin with. His palms begin to sweat with what he can only describe as fear when he has to slam on the brakes at a nearby intersection. “Fuck!” he curses, slamming his hands against the steering wheel, losing sight of your car. “I lost them.” “Where?” Namjoon is up and in the garage, car keys in his shaking hands as dread fills his entire body.

“Not far. If you leave now, you should meet her just as she’s getting home.”

Shit, Namjoon seethes to himself. His hands tighten on the wheel as he speeds down street after street. Shit, shit, shit! He tries calling you, but you don’t answer, and he doesn’t want to panic. You’ve just worked another double, he reasons, you always forget to take a phone charger with you so your phone had to have died. That has to be it. For the sake of whoever is stupid enough to follow you, that had better be what happened. The automatic voice echoes in the car as he gets your voicemail one more time. “Baby,” he says after the beep, “I know you’re angry with me, but I need you to pick up the phone.”

Three more unanswered calls later, his body is wound tight as he pulls up to your apartment building, not seeing your car anywhere in sight. He jumps out the driver’s seat and bolts up the stairs to your apartment, pounding on the door, but he’s met with more silence. He has to call his father, has to get their men out there in search of you, he has to. Has to. Has to. Has to.

“Joon?” your voice reaches his ears, but you’re not sure he actually hears you. You take in his heaving shoulders and chest, the shaking of his hands, and lay your palm on his shoulder to get his attention. You gasp in pain when he rounds on you, shoving your back into the wall with his long fingers wrapped around your neck. Your hand wraps around his wrist to try and pry it away, looking into his eyes to find them nearly black with rage. “Joon! Namjoon, it’s me!”

Namjoon’s eyes finally clear, blood still roaring in his ears as he seems to recognize you. He glances down to find his hand around your throat, quickly releasing you. “Oh fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry!” He holds on to your shoulders as you cough violently, trying to take in all the air you’ve lost, sliding down the wall as if to ground yourself. He falls to his knees in order to maintain eye contact, spearing his fingers through your hair to keep it out of your face, touching his forehead to yours. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby. Are you okay?”

The hold you have on his wrists never loosened, and you use it now in support as the spots in your vision begin to disappear. You’re gasping as you brace your free hand against his chest, unsure if you want to push him away yet. “Jesus fuck, Namjoon. What the hell?”

“I’m sorry! I thought…”

“What could you possibly have thought?” You finally shove him away and stand up, fishing the apartment keys out of your pocket. You shove them in the keyhole, unlock the door, and throw it open as Namjoon follows you inside. Reaching up to your neck, your hand shakes as it feels around your sore throat. “As if Hoseok popping up wasn’t scary enough.”

“Hoseok scared you?” Namjoon’s body grows tense all over again, turning to close the apartment door.

“He didn’t mean to.” You shake your head, shucking off your jacket and tossing it onto the kitchen counter. “I was just a little off tonight, that’s all. Hoseok snuck up on me after work.” Making your way to the cabinets overhead, you pluck out a cup to fill with water. You stand facing away from him to gulp down the water. All day you’ve been wondering what you could say to him, but now that he’s here in front of you, all words are lost. It’s not just because you’re angry with what just happened, it’s that you don’t know how to even process it.

“How many times can I say I’m sorry?” His chest presses to your back, the deep rumbling of his voice vibrates against it, your treacherous body leaning into him. He braces his hands on the counter, trapping you in place, and presses his forehead to your shoulder. “You didn’t answer your phone.”

“I put it on silent,” you whisper, turning your head so your lips skim his ear. The tips of his ears turn red even though you didn’t mean to be directly in his ear, you smile. “I forgot to put the ringer back on after Hobi scared me in the parking lot.”

He hums in reply, one arm sliding across your belly to hook around your waist completely, pulling you against him. The sun peeks through the window, having risen in the time he’s spent in your apartment. “Another late shift, then?”

“Mhm,” you confirm with a nod of your head. You meet his eyes when he raises his head to look at you. You glance down at his lips, tipping your head back just slightly and you swear he groans as he lowers his mouth to yours.

There’s nothing stopping him from kissing you this time. Not a damn thing stands in his way. That is, until there’s a knock on your door that has you jumping out of his embrace before he can actually do anything. He curses whoever is at the door, taking the cup you set on the counter to take a sip of water. His ears pick up the grating sound of Minseok’s voice, and he’s slamming the glass down on the counter before he can stop himself from getting even more pissed off. Striding to the front door, he reaches it just in time to watch you crumble to your knees, but he’s quick to stop you from hitting the floor. “Y/N?! What happened? What’s wrong?”

“She’s go–,” you sob out, tears streaming down your face endlessly. “She’s gone, Joon. She’s gone!” you shriek, gripping onto his forearms as your wails fill the apartment. Your throat is raw from screaming but you can’t seem to stop yourself. You knew it was coming, had always known, but you were never actually prepared for it.

Namjoon’s heart breaks with every body wracking sob you let out, and it hits him then just why Minseok was there. He holds you close, rocks you back and forth in hopes of soothing you, but it isn’t working. From the corner of his eye, he sees Minseok’s fingers twitch, trying to keep himself from reaching out to you, but Namjoon pulls you closer, refusing to allow Minseok to touch you.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Sometimes you think the skies know when to be gloomy. The gray clouds that loom over the funeral procession feel as though they’re mocking you. Your mother loved rainy days, something you couldn’t come to enjoy as you grew older. You thought they were depressing, always lending a hand in her dwindling health, but she flourished in the rain. She came alive when the downpour would drench her to the bone, and as a child, you would giggle and dance in the rain with her. You remember kicking up puddles, getting your feet dirty and clothes wet, and it was everything to her. Growing older, though, you found that with the rain came runny noses, horrid coughs, sore throats, and missed days of school. You came to detest them until she got sick, and it was all she’d ask for; to see the rain.

People, mostly Namjoon’s parents and friends, and some of your coworkers, gathered around you in comfort. They only want to help, you know this, but they’re not. Most people welcome the condolences and the sympathy, but you can’t seem to. You feel overcrowded, lost in a sea of people that you don’t want to see you break down. So you hold it in. Sometimes your breathing grows ragged as you try to hold back, but you manage to compose yourself before they can gather what’s happening. Namjoon is by your side the entire time, along with his parents, and they’re the only comfort you can find. The only ones you can stand to be around right now. They truly are your only family. Hoseok, Jimin, Jungkook, Yoongi, Seokjin, Taehyung, and Nabi take their turns to cradle you close. They aren’t just Namjoon’s friends, they’re yours too even though Hoseok was really the only one you’d spent an extensive amount of time with. Recently though, they’ve been coming around to the apartment when Namjoon was busy, all of them doing their best to keep you distracted.

You’re sat in front of your mother’s picture with your head resting on Namjoon’s shoulder while everyone else is lined up against the wall, giving you and Namjoon the space you didn’t have to ask for, they just know you need it. Namjoon grips your hand tight, linking your fingers together and bringing up your joined hands to kiss the back of your knuckles. You peek up at him through tear filled lashes, breathing easily when he drops his forehead to your own, but that serenity doesn’t last long. A commotion breaks out at the entrance of the funeral hall, people whispering and darting about in a hurry. Namjoon’s father grits his teeth and demands to know what could be going on, when your breath hitches at the next person who steps foot in the room.

Chunghee has the decency to look apologetic as he catches your eye, taking a moment to dip his chin in greeting before stepping aside to reveal his father, Kang Himchan. He sees Namjoon tense, standing to his full height immediately to back his own father. Chunghee steps towards them in hopes of gaining control of the situation, but Kim Taehyung is quick to meet him. “Taehyung,” he simply says as if this were at all normal.

“Kang,” Taehyung says through clenched teeth, tipping his head in your direction. Jungkook and Jimin are the first to reach you, followed by Seokjin and Nabi. Hoseok and Yoongi take their place on either side of Taehyung.

“What the hell is this?” Namjoon’s father levels Himchan with a look that would send most men running. “How dare you come here and disturb this girl’s grieving. Have you no sense of decorum, Kang?”

“I am here to offer my condolences, obviously,” Himchan keeps his voice steady. Your mother was unknowingly his mistress, but he had loved her dearly, and wants nothing more than to know and understand you. His eyes search the room, finally landing on you, and they soften. You are the spitting image of your mother and it makes him breathless for a moment. He forgets who you’re surrounded by, taking a step in your direction, only to be met by Namjoon’s hard glare. His hackles raise, face turning red with anger. “You dare keep me from my own daughter, Kim?”

All of the air rushes out of your lungs as you struggle to breathe. Your body begins to tremble, view being blocked by Jungkook’s body, but you catch his hand sliding into the back waistband of his pants. A gun, you realize, and look around to find that he’s not the only person hiding one. Hoseok’s hand rests on his hip, the holster becoming visible as his suit jacket moves with him. Jimin and Yoongi exchange a knowing look before they too reach for their hidden weapons.

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want when it comes to her,” Namjoon snaps back at Himchan, causing the older man to step toe-to-toe with him. He smirks at the older Kang. “That’s not a smart move.”

Before anyone can blink, weapons are drawn, all aimed at different people around the room as more men come barreling in behind Himchan. They surround their boss, standing in front of raised guns without a second thought. You scramble back towards the wall, as if pressing against it enough will make you invisible. Nabi is at your side, shushing you and squeezing your hand tight.

“Enough,” Namjoon’s father bellows, throwing his hand up to stop anyone from actually firing. Putting his hand on his son’s shoulder, he pulls Namjoon back. “This isn’t the time or place, Namjoon. Go to Y/N. We’ve frightened her on an already stressful day.”

“Y/N,” Himchan repeats as though unused to saying your name, a smile playing on his lips at the sound. It was so like your mother to have picked something equally as beautiful as you are. His smile fades as he straightens himself up to look Namjoon’s father in the eye once more. “I’m well aware of her ties to you, Kim, but that is no more. She is my kin. My flesh and blood. It’s time she lives as such.”

“I don’t know you,” your voice cuts through the room, shaky and trembling. “I don’t know what the hell is even going on right now.”

“Y/N,” Chunghee finally pipes up. If he had known this would turn out to be such a shit show, he’d have never told his father about your mother’s passing. Ah hell, he knew it was going to be bad, he just didn’t really want to believe it. “Please, you have to believe us.”

“She doesn’t have to do a damn thing,” Namjoon roars and his friends tense, unsure of what he may do next. “You come here, Kang, declare her your daughter, and expect her to up and accept it? You’re out of your fucking mind. Even if we did believe this bullshit, I wouldn’t let her go anywhere with you.”

“You?” Himchan sneers. “You think you get any say in this? She’s my daughter, Kim. I’ve bit my tongue and kept my distance long enough, but now she needs us. Her mother is gone, her family is nowhere to be found, she is alone. But not with us.”

“She’s mine.”

You let out a small gasp at Namjoon’s tone. You’d only ever heard him use it against Minseok when he was mad enough. You’re not sure what the outcome of this entire standoff will be, but you know you wouldn’t be able to stomach it if anyone got hurt. You’re able to wrestle out of Nabi’s hold enough to slowly approach Namjoon’s side, tangling your fingers with his. “Joon, let’s not do this, okay? Not here and not today. Please?”

Himchan’s surprise is visible on his face when Namjoon heeds your words, backing down almost instantly. He knew you were close to the Kim family and, up until recently, he was under the impression that you and Namjoon were just friends. Everyone else in the room seems to be used to this, and so he has to wonder when the change came about. Hope blooms in his chest as the gears in his mind begin to whirl.

“We should go home for now,” Taehyung suggests, though as Nabi stands at his side, he’s pretty sure everyone knows it’s not his idea, but hers. He tries to hold in a sigh when Namjoon shoots him a glare. “Y/N will come home with us, Namjoon, don’t worry.”

“But I—,” you try to object, unable to accept anything more Taehyung has to offer. Not when he’d already done so much for you as is.

“Hoseok and the guys will move your things in,” Namjoon interrupts, leaving no room for argument. He tugs on your hand and leads you out of the funeral hall, bumping his shoulder against one of Himchan’s goons. He can feel the reluctant pull of your arm, but he refuses to let go, not until the two of you reach his car where he buckles you in safely before sliding into the driver’s seat.

The ride home is tense, the car filled with nothing but silence and what you suspect is grumbling coming from Namjoon even though he thinks you can’t hear it. He’s angry. More like pissed. This isn’t something any of them were prepared for. Hell, it wasn’t something any of them would have ever thought possible. Of all the people on this planet to be related to, the Kangs were the last ones anyone would have figured were your relatives. Not only that, but Himchan had forced Namjoon to show his hand, to show you a world he never should have dragged you into. He never thought he could come to regret befriending you in that hall so many years ago, but now he does. If only because he doesn’t really believe he could protect you from the power the Kang family holds. His own family is rather powerful, there’s no doubt about that, but if anyone could hold a candle to them, it’s the Kangs.

“Namjoon,” you try to get his attention, “you’re angry.”

“I’m worried, baby, it’s different.”

“Because you think it’s true?”

“Because if it is true, then I don’t know if I can protect you,” he begrudgingly admits.

You’re confused as you take in his words. What could you possibly need protection from? Even as you question it, the memory of everyone in there, guns drawn, comes to the forefront of your mind, and you know. You know Namjoon is hiding something. You’ve always known, but you could never have guessed it was to this extent. “Tell me,” you demand quietly and he strains to hear you. “Tell me, Namjoon, what all of that was about. What you’re hiding from me and what you’re afraid of because if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that if you’re scared, then I have to be too. So, please, tell me.”

So he does. Namjoon tells you everything, from beginning to end. What his life was like growing up in the mafia, what he’d had to learn in order to protect himself and those closest to him, and more importantly, why he had to distance himself during the 10 years of your friendship. The only thing he left out was how utterly obsessed with you he’d become. He sounded crazy enough as is, no need to tack on that he basically stalked you from the day you met him. You’re quiet after he’s finished, spending the rest of the ride home staring out of the window. Even as he pulls into the driveway, you only stare up at the giant house Taehyung had built for Nabi a few years ago. Once in the garage, you unbuckle yourself at an alarmingly normal speed, as if you hadn’t just been told that your best friend was in the goddamn mafia of all things. What’s more, all of his friends and family are part of it too, and he’s afraid you might fear Hoseok now, but when you step into the house and Hoseok is the first to sweep you up into his arms, you cling to him as you always have.

“You’re not part of them,” Hoseok insists, mainly because from what little of his childhood he remembers, the Kangs were the driving force behind him becoming an orphan. “Even if you were, blood doesn’t make them family, Y/N. Himchan is wrong. We’re your family.”

“Do I have to go with them?” you ask honestly, pulling back to look up at Hoseok. He may not have been truthful with you, but he never lied or coddled you either. “If they come for me, Hobi, do I have to go?”

“Over my dead fucking body,” comes Namjoon’s deep voice and you gasp at the stark difference. How you were never able to differentiate his tones before is beyond you. Then again, you think you may have purposefully ignored the signs, wanting to believe he could do no harm. He snatches you out of Hoseok’s arms, pulling your chest flush against his own and raking a hand through your hair. “There’s nothing on this planet that can take you from me, Y/N, not even Kang Himchan or his son.”

“Chunghee,” you hum. Despite all of the commotion, the only thing he’d had to say was that you had to believe what his father had been saying. You could hear the plea in his voice, wondering why he hadn’t brought any of this up the day he’d run into you at the store. Then it hits you, the realization that he’d done it on purpose. Was he why Namjoon had been so scared that day after your fight? Did Chunghee threaten you somehow?

“Speaking of the Kangs,” Taehyung says as he strides into the living room, dropping himself on the couch while Nabi gives him a stern look. “Princess, I’m tired, and I can bet everyone else here is too. Can I just sit for a second?”

Nabi rolls her eyes, cheeks turning a faint shade of pink at the pet name he’s given her since they’ve been married. She lets out a small squeal when he pulls her onto his lap. “You’re an idiot, Tae. But you’re right.” Turning to face you and Namjoon, she explains, “The Kangs are well known in our circle. Even my grandfather made a deal or two with them, and while they’d given us no reason to not trust them, they’ve made it clear that they’re not out to make friends. They’ve built themselves a solid reputation starting all the way down from Himchan’s great grandfather. They’re a prestigious family, Namjoon, not easy to break through, not like the Choi’s. If you want to fight them, it’ll have to be with some heavy artillery. I can ask my cousins for their support and they’ll grant it, but it’ll take more than that.”

“That’s hot,” Taehyung attempts to whisper in his wife’s ear but everyone still hears it and Jungkook audibly gags. He’s always loved how smart his wife is and he’s not ashamed to show it.

“Stop it.” Nabi swats at his hand, climbing off his lap to walk up to you. “Y/N, you have to understand what could happen if we go to war with Kang Himchan. I don’t want to scare you, but it’ll get bloody and it’ll get deadly, but you have to believe that if anyone can protect you from them, it’s Namjoon. I’m not saying you have to go with the Kangs if they come to collect you, but” –She raises her hand to stop Namjoon from butting in–, “you also don’t have to stay here. If you want to get to know your father and brother, that’s your decision. We won’t stop you from doing it and we most certainly won’t isolate you for their actions and wrongdoings.”

“War?” is all you can say. It’s the only thing that had really caught your attention. That and the blood and death.

“War,” Namjoon confirms, tightening his hold on your waist. “The Kangs won’t let you go so easily, but neither will I. Give Hoseok your apartment keys. He’s taking Jimin and Jungkook to get your things. I don’t trust that they’ll pull some shit if they know you live alone.”

“I can’t just take up a room here, Joon,” you insist even as you hand off your keys to Hoseok.

“Oh, you’re not taking up a room,” Hoseok chuckles, taking the keys from your outstretched hand. “You’re sharing Namjoon’s room.”

------------------------------------------------------------------

“This isn’t happening.” You gawk at Jungkook and Jimin moving your things about Namjoon’s room a few hours later. They lug in a suitcase with a good portion of your clothes, most of which is jeans, t-shirts, and a bunch of pajama pants and shorts. Nabi had insisted on going with them to rifle through your clothes, throwing out the tattered pieces you’d shoved to the back of your closet and forgotten about. You turn to Namjoon lounging on his bed, looking as though a bomb hadn’t just been dropped on both of you. “You can’t be serious about this, Joon. I mean, this is your personal space, you can’t be happy about me invading it. The house is practically on full lock down, I’m sure there’s a spare room I can use.”

“No,” is all he says, reaching out to grab your arm and tugging you into the space next to him. “Taehyung’s taken every precaution to protect Nabi and I’ll do the same for you.” He looks as though he wants to say more but decides against it, getting up from the bed to slap Jungkook upside the head when he notices the younger man mocking him.

“Nabi said Taheyung didn’t allow her out unless Jungkook and Jimin were with her.”

Namjoon freezes at your words. Of course you’d ask Nabi what it was like living here, and of course Nabi wouldn’t spare any details. Jimin and Jungkook stare at him, waiting to take his lead and willing to downplay their roles as Nabi’s guards if necessary. He sighs and figures he’s done enough lying to you. He turns to see you with crossed arms and a look that says you already knew what to expect. “The same rules apply to you, Y/N. Until this situation is settled, you can’t go anywhere unless Hoseok and Jimin are with you, or I’m with you, or all three of us are escorting you somewhere. I’m not going to lie to you and say you’ll have everything you need here, but you’ll never be bored. I was going to have Seokjin or Yoongi assigned to you, but Jin’s helping Yoongi with something important and it’s taking all of their focus. Also,” he hesitates as you raise your brows, waiting for him to continue. “You can’t contact Minseok.” It’s entirely selfish of him to forbid any contact with Minseok, but it’s an opportunity he’ll take.

With a roll of your eyes, you sink further into the bed, leaning back into his pillows. “Not that I want to talk to Minseok, but he did take care of my mom, Namjoon. I at least owe him a thank you.”

“Not right now,” he seethes, curling his hand into a fist, and Jungkook and Jimin take that as their cue to leave. Storming up to the bed, he grips your ankles and pulls you down to the edge. He smirks when you squeal in surprise, slotting himself between your thighs. When your squeal turns into a gasp, he knows it’s because you can feel how hard he’s gotten since you’ve been in the room. He plants his palms against the mattress, watching your eyes dart to the veins in his forearms, sliding forward until he’s nose to nose with you. “You can thank Minseok another time, sweetheart, but right now it’s best to keep your distance. If Kang thinks he can use Minseok to get to you, he’ll do it.”

Your brows draw together, regret settling in the pit of your stomach as you play with the collar of his black dress shirt. “My very existence is dangerous, isn’t it?”

“Not to me.” One of his hands comes up to brush the stray hairs from your face. “None of this is your fault. You didn’t even know who your father was until now.”

A light knock on his bedroom door lets him know that it’s Nabi and she’s going to give him about 10 seconds to be ready. He scrambles away from you just as she plows through the door, smiling sweetly before breaking the news. “Taehyung has accepted Kang’s request to meet with you, Y/N. I know we should have talked to you first, but I don’t want your decision to be based on emotion rather than rationale. Is that okay?”

You nod, grateful that she’s on your side and to have her as a friend. Sitting up as she approaches the bed, you note that she fusses over you like a mother would, righting your clothes and smoothing your hair down. You want to laugh, but then you remember that when you were little, your mother would have to step in to make you presentable when you’d been too rough on the playground. Your smile fades. “He’s here now, isn’t he?”

“Goddamn it,” Namjoon hisses, barreling for the door. “You could have given us a bigger heads up, Nabi.”

“That wasn’t my decision,” she barks back at him, and you blink at her in surprise. It’s not very often people can talk back to Namjoon and he’ll just let it happen. “Taehyung surprised me too when he said Kang would be here soon.”

“Let’s just go,” you sigh, getting up from the bed to follow Namjoon to the living room, Nabi not far behind. Your nerves shoot sky high as you get closer and closer to the deep voices of who you now know is your father speaking to Namjoon’s father. Two weeks ago, you’d been wiping down tables at one of your part time jobs, living off ramen noodles and sandwiches, and one more speed bump away from possibly losing the bumper to your junker car, but it had been worth it. You’d do all of it over again to take care of the most precious person to you. How your life got turned so ass backwards, you don’t know, and you’re not entirely sure you want to figure it out.

“She hasn’t had to live up to traditions and customs,” Namjoon’s father sounds as if he’s on the verge of losing his temper. “You cannot throw this on her after she’s just learned of you!”

“That's why she should be moved under my roof!” Himchan snaps back at Mr. Kim and you pause at the entryway of the living room, neither of them even see you yet. “She can learn of those customs and traditions.”

“So you can pawn her off to some low life thug undeserving of her?” Mr. Kim scoffs. “I don’t think so. Y/N is as much a part of our family as she is of yours. Even more so since we’re the ones who have been there for her.”

“I didn’t even know she existed until Harin got sick,” Himchan mumbles, dragging his hand down his face as you finally come into view.

You sit next to Mr. Kim while Namjoon stands beside the couch and Hoseok parks himself behind it. You’re not sure where to begin or what you can even say given his position. If he’s as high up on the chain of command as Mr. Kim, then you’re pretty sure telling him to go fuck himself is off the table. You look around as if searching for something or someone, only to realize he isn’t there. “Where’s Chunghee?”

Himchan sits up straight as you finally address him, offering a polite smile in response. “Chunghee had some business to attend to overseas. As time goes on, I’m hoping your relationship will become less strained.” He frowns when you grow stiff, having misunderstood, though he’s sure the truth won’t be any better. “When I met your mother, Y/N, I fell in love with her at first sight. She didn’t know who I was or even that I was…married. My marriage had been arranged by my father, as his marriage was, and his father before him. In our life, it is rare to find and marry someone we’re in love with. We’re paired with someone we believe can carry a strong bloodline. Your brother is a product of a marriage neither I nor his mother had a true say in. He was only 10 when you were born, even younger when I started an affair with your mother. She didn’t know what kind of life I had and one day she was just gone. Somehow, she’d found out, and left town without telling me she was pregnant.”

“So, Chunghee hates me,” you gather from everything he’s said. “Because of you.”

“Yes,” Himchan admits, shame burning his throat.

Namjoon steps in front of you protectively, effectively cutting off any more access Himchan had. “Are you saying your own son is a threat? You want me to give her to you when your own son could hurt her?”

“I would never allow that,” Himchan insists, but it lands on deaf ears as Namjoon turns to take your hand, ready to drag you back to his room. “I only want a good life for her, Namjoon. I’ve only recently learned of her struggles, ones that you’ve allowed her to go through.”

“Allowed?” you question at the sheer audacity both of them have to treat you like an object rather than a person.

“I didn’t allow a fucking thing,” Namjoon interrupts and Nabi rubs at her temples in exasperation. “She wouldn’t let me help. She’s stubborn that way, but it’s what makes her so strong, Kang. Don’t think for a second I don’t know why you really want her under your roof. You already have someone lined up for her to marry, but that’s not fucking happening.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Nabi throws her hands in the air, stalking to the middle of the living room and commanding attention in a way that makes you envious. “Unless we’re all forgetting that Y/N’s here, I think maybe we should ask her what she wants. Mr. Kang, I understand tradition better than anyone here, but given that she hasn’t grown up in your care or home, you can’t implement traditional values without her knowledge of it. That’s dangerous and you know it.”

“Who is it?” your voice cuts through the room, stepping around Namjoon to face your father.

Namjoon looks at you as if you’ve grown a second head, mouth gaping open in shock. “You can’t seriously be considering this.”

“I don’t know what else to even do, Namjoon!” You throw your arms up in frustration, turning away from him with tears in your eyes. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with all of this.”

“Not by entertaining this stupid bullshit.” Namjoon’s hands curl into fists and Hoseok quickly takes up the space at your side in case his friend’s temper gets the best of him.

“That’s what I was hoping to talk to Mr. Kim about today.” Himchan faces Namjoon’s father again, taking a deep, steadying breath. “I learned about my daughter 10 years ago, Kim, when she was 18 and forced into working job after job until her fingers bled, and through all of it, your son was there. From my understanding, my father and yours had meant to work together quite some time ago and those plans fell through.”

Namjoon inhales sharply. Is Kang suggesting what Namjoon thinks he is? Could he really be handed everything he’s ever wanted right here, right now? Would you even be okay with that?

“I want him to vet Han Youngjae in exchange for discussing a new business venture that could benefit us both,” Himchan continues, sending Namjoon’s world crashing down. “You know as well as I do that the Han family has been around far longer than either of our families. Youngjae seems to be a good man, but I trust your son’s judgment, especially when it comes to Y/N. I’ve worked with the Han family for awhile now and the arrangement for my son to marry their eldest daughter is being finalized soon.”

“Then why the fuck do you need more ties into that family?” Namjoon’s tone has gone dangerously low, sending a chill down your spine, but rather than fear it’s bordering on something else entirely. “You come into her life, our lives, after she loses her mother and you want to marry her off to a family like the Hans?”

“I want to give her time to adjust to the idea,” Himchan clarifies, searching for some kind of hope that you’ll just think about it. “I truly believe—.”

“I will not entertain this idea,” Namjoon’s father stops Himchan before he can explain any further. “Besides the fact that it’s entirely absurd, Y/N has already been promised to my son.”

“I’m so fucking confused,” you say aloud without meaning to, and Nabi giggles while looping her arm through yours.

Himchan winces at your colorful language, sighing in disappointment. “Y/N, truly, you shouldn’t speak with such foul language, it’s unbecoming.”

“How my fiancée chooses to speak is none of your business,” Namjoon defends you, quickly growing used to the idea of calling you his fiancée. It makes his chest warm and body hum with need.

You startle, bumping against Nabi’s embrace. Namjoon’s casual use of the word “fiancee” makes your throat dry. You rather like the way it sounds, but you have to remind yourself that it’s just to get your father off your back. But then, if that were true, what was all of that back in his room? Namjoon’s been acting rather odd lately, invading your space, holding your hand, kissing your cheek. It’s enough to convince even you that he might actually have feelings for you. You let out a heavy sigh while shaking the thoughts from your head. No, Namjoon was well aware of how much you cherished your mother. He was simply helping you through the grieving process, and now with the looming threat of your father, he’s doing what’s necessary to keep you safe.

“It’s been quite the day,” Nabi’s smooth and commanding voice cuts through the men’s argument, effectively silencing them as they all turn to stare at her. “It’s late Mr. Kang, and while we understand your concerns for tradition and the need to keep up with them, we’ve taken your proposal into consideration and have deemed it unnecessary. As Mr. Kim has already stated, Namjoon and Y/N have been promised to each other. There is no need for her to marry into the Han family.”

“Now just wait a minute,” Kang says through gritted teeth. “Custom states that the engagement requires my approval, which I’m yet to give.”

“You’ve kept tabs on us all this time,” Namjoon reminds him with a wicked smile. “Surely you’re not so naive as to misunderstand just what we’ve been up to in the night’s I’ve stayed at her home.”

“Namjoon,” you hiss, cheeks flushing at his implication. True as it may be that Namjoon has spent a considerable amount of nights at your apartment, he really only slept on the couch and the one time he nearly slept in your bed, he’d conceded and left the room. “Stop it.”

“I’m stating facts, sweetheart, nothing more.” Namjoon turns to wrap his fingers around your free arm and tug you close to his chest. His arm snakes around your waist to keep you trapped against him. Your squeak of surprise makes him chuckle low and deep, making you shiver as he skims his lips across your cheek.

Kang curls his fingers into fists at the display. While yes, he was well aware of Namjoon’s overnight stays, he’d never seen any open displays of affection. He’s not sure if it’s because Namjoon is truly a private person, or if this entire charade is a lie. Either way, he cannot allow the opportunity to tie more of his lineage to the Han family to pass him by. He breathes in deep and exhales slowly to calm himself. “Fine,” he says while straightening the lapels of his suit jacket. “I will let this rest for now, Kim. But be warned, should I find anything false about this ‘engagement’ of yours, Y/N will live under my roof and she will marry Han.”

“You can’t—,” you begin to argue, but Taehyung beats you to it by instructing Jungkook and Jimin to escort Kang to his waiting vehicle.

“Understand this, Kang,” Taehyung seethes while he still has Kang’s attention, “I will not tolerate your persistence of taking Y/N from underneath my roof. If, and only if, she chooses to part ways with Namjoon, I will make sure she gets far away from us and you. Trust when I say this is not a war you want with me.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Take it as you wish,” Taehyung stands tall, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks as if to show your father that Kang isn’t nearly as in control as he believes. “But, much like Namjoon, I’m only stating facts. However, I will take into consideration another meeting with you and your son.”

“What?” Namjoon snaps, and becomes pissed when Taehyung holds his hand up to stop him from speaking further.

“I know that customs and tradition are being called into question, and while I don’t agree to forcing a marriage between the Han family and Y/N, it is my duty to consider it should any arrangements between her and Namjoon fall apart.” Taehyung frowns in your direction, knowing that all he can truly do is help Namjoon keep up appearances until this entire mess is sorted out. He can’t step in and completely dissolve whatever deal Kang has made with the Han family, but he can delay it until Namjoon can talk you into a real marriage. He hates it, and is well aware that keeping you from the Han family by forcing you into Namjoon’s family instead is rather hypocritical. He turns back to Kang and sighs in defeat, “I swear to you that I will consider it seriously. In the meantime, don’t hold your breath, Kang.”

Your jaw nearly drops to the floor with the way Taehyung dismissed your father like a child, and the fact that your father actually leaves after being waved away is even more shocking. You look to Nabi for some guidance, but she only shakes your head with a reassuring smile, leaving you to believe that things might actually turn out okay in the end.

#kim namjoon fic #secrets and lies fic #war of hearts universe #bts fic #bts smut #kim namjoon smut

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