#seriously i've spent many nights thinking about them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

justagalwhowrites · 2 months

Note

Hi! Soooo I've read a lot of amazing Joel Miller fics, but Lavender is seriously my all time favorite. Doc and Joel's story just made me so emotional. Here's my request for a drabble/oneshot- a sneak peak into Doc and Joel's relationship when they first get together pre-outbreak. Specifically, Joel takes Doc out on a nice dinner date for the first time and she feels super special and they are starting to catch so many feels for each other. Thank you!!!

OMG Hi Bestie!

So you sent this ask in like... 1.5 million years ago and this isn't EXACTLY it but... I think it fits the vibe. I hope. So here's Joel and Doc's first Valentine's Day together. I hope you like it!

Cupid

You and Joel spend Valentine's Day together. A Lavender one shot. Can be read as a stand alone with the understanding that Joel and Reader have an established relationship.

^We're gonna pretend that's Joel for this, OK? OK.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (From Lavender)

CW: Smut :) Just some fluffy, fun, p in v smut. They're in love and we love that for them. Pre-Outbreak. Age gap but not the focus of the fic (11 years, reader is 22 Joel is 33.) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only.

Length: 3.8k

Wednesday, February 14, 2001

You’d never had a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day before.

The thought made you oddly nervous. Not that Joel had given you anything to be nervous about, of course, but you were. Valentine’s Day had always just been another day for you. Sometimes Nan got you one of the little boxes of chocolates but, otherwise, it had never been something you had a reason to celebrate. You were just so used to ignoring it that, until Saturday, you hadn’t even thought about Valentine’s Day.

You’d been in bed with Joel. It was late and your bodies were pressed close together, his skin on yours, your nose nuzzled into his throat, your head still a bit fuzzy from the orgasms.

“How do you feel about goin’ to dinner Wednesday?” He asked softly, his fingers trailing over your side, lips in your hair.

You frowned against him.

“Doesn’t Sarah have practice?”

“Canceled,” he said. “Besides, I was gonna get Tommy to take her, anyway. He’s already taking her for the night so we can have some privacy.”

You frown deepened and you felt him chuckle against you.

“Did you forget?” He asked.

“No,” you said defensively. “I just… didn’t know there was something to forget.”

He laughed a little again.

“It’s Valentine’s Day baby,” he said. “Fully intend on takin’ full advantage of any holiday that lets me romance you.”

Joel seemed to mean it. By Wednesday night, you didn’t know the details of what he was planning - you didn’t get to see him on Tuesdays, Sarah had Girl Scouts across town and your classes ran too late to see him before her meeting - but he’d sent flowers to your apartment the day before your date, timed when you were home for lunch between classes with a card that said he loved you and told you to be ready to go at 5:30 Wednesday night.

You weren’t sure if you were doing your part in this right at all. You’d spent a good chunk of Sunday shopping and cursing yourself for not remembering freaking Valentine’s Day. It’s not like there weren’t heart shaped boxes of candy sitting out every time you went to the grocery store, it should have occurred to you. It just hadn’t even registered that it would apply to you now.

You at least had an idea of what you wanted to get him and weren’t going in completely blind. You’d been keeping an eye out at thrift stores for vintage shirts from his favorite bands, never exactly hunting for them but always checking the men’s section when you went in to find something for yourself. You also had a picture from a trip to a museum of you, Joel and Sarah had made that you’d been keeping to give him at some point, wanting to frame it for him.

It took a few hours - and stops at four different thrift stores - but you eventually found a Fleetwood Mac shirt that you thought was from the 70s and was wearing thin in a few places but you were sure he’d like it. You found the perfect frame, too, the wood cracking at the sides but you had a plan for that.

You fixed the frame, coloring the glue forest green so it was like vines were growing on a tree and put the picture of the three of you in it. It was off center, you’d been holding the camera away from yourselves and hoping that you were all in the frame. You were looking at Sarah, she was looking at you and Joel had his perfect, crooked smile that made his cheek dimple and his eyes shine.

You made brownies that afternoon, covering them in pink glaze and red heart sprinkles before piling them on a plate and sneaking a bite of one before getting ready. You took a curling iron to your hair and did your makeup and painted your nails red before slipping into a dress you’d found when shopping for Joel’s shirt, black and form fitting and you tried to not feel like an imposter as you tied the red ribbon around the half ponytail at the back of your head.

There was a knock at your door and you took a last look at yourself in your bedroom mirror, breathing deep and trying to calm your thudding heart before you answered it.

“Jesus, baby,” Joel said, a look of almost awe on his handsome face as you opened the door. “Should warn a man before you show up lookin’ like that…”

“Is it too much?” You asked, looking down at yourself. “I can change…”

“Don’t you dare,” he said, looping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. “You look fuckin’ amazing.”

You put your arms around his neck and kissed him, smiling against his mouth, before stepping back from him. He’d dressed up, too, in black jeans with a white button down shirt that he’d tucked in and worn with a belt. He even had on a tan blazer, one that looked almost too small for his broad shoulders.

“You look so good!” You were practically giddy, hands going over your mouth to keep from sounding too excited. Joel laughed a little.

“Don’t know if it warrants that much of a reaction. But figured I’d at least try to look like I belonged out with someone as pretty as you,” he teased and you rolled your eyes. “C’mon, we don’t leave now we are in very real danger of not making it out of the house, you are too damn tempting.”

Joel led you to his truck - which was almost shockingly clean, water from the car wash still dripping from his bumper - and opened the door for you, offering you his hand as you climbed in.

“So,” you smiled as he started driving. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he smiled back. “Believe it or not, had something cookin’ for a minute.”

His hand found the inside of your knee, the callus of his thumb stroking the skin there. You tried to figure out where you were going as he drove but you were still caught totally off guard when he parked in front of a French restaurant you’d been dying to try.

“Are you kidding me?” You gasped. “Joel!”

He laughed and took your hand, kissing your knuckles.

“Know you’ve been wanting to try it,” he said. “Turns out a guy on my crew’s sister works here so I could wrangle a reservation…”

“This is amazing!” You were practically giddy, going to open your door, but Joel stopped you.

“Gotta let me try to be a gentleman,” he kissed your hand again. “Sit tight.”

He got out and jogged around the front of the truck, opening your door and offering you his hand.

“Why thank you sir,” you said, trying to sound aloof and dignified. You didn’t think you pulled it off, too busy smiling to make it convincing. He pulled you in close and pressed a kiss to your temple before putting his hand on the small of your back and guiding you into the restaurant.

They sat you at a table in a secluded corner, a white tablecloth and the low glow of a candle setting the scene. The host handed you a menu in a leather book with a gold tassel on the end and you waited for him to leave the table before you mouthed “oh my god” at Joel, who smiled and laughed quietly across the table.

The menu had was full of French foods you’d only dreamed of trying at a restaurant: coq au vin, confit de canard, gigot d’agneau. There was even boeuf bourguignon. But the prices made your eyes go wide, your newly-painted nails digging into the leather of the menu.

“Don’t think I can get that beef you make,” Joel said absently, looking at the menu. “Not gonna measure up to yours, don’t care how good the restaurant is…”

“Joel,” you whispered over your menu. He looked up from his, brows raised. “We really don’t need to eat here…”

He frowned.

“Not seein’ something you want?” He asked. “We can go somewhere else, might be hard to get a table but…”

“No!” You shook your head quickly. “No, the food looks great but…”

You bit your lip and trailed off and he watched you, waiting for you to finish.

“But?” He asked eventually.

“But this place is…” you lowered your voice. “This is expensive. We really don’t have to eat here just because I’ve talked about it, we can go anywhere, we can just order a pizza if you want, I really don’t need all this, this is…”

“Baby,” he cut you off, a crooked smile on his face. “Don’t worry about the price. Been wanting to take you here since this place opened, set aside some money for it. Get whatever you want.”

“But…”

He set the menu down and crossed his arms over the table, leaning over it toward you.

“You gonna let me spoil my girl for Valentine’s Day or are you gonna give me trouble?” He asked. You frowned a little, thumb toying with the corner of the menu. Joel tilted his head until you met his gaze. “I mean it, baby. Really want to do this. Please let me?”

“OK,” you said, still uncertain and looking at the menu again, looking for the least expensive entree.

“Swear to god you order the cheapest thing, we’re comin’ back next week,” Joel said as though he read your mind. “You’d better get what you actually want.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” you said, trying your best to ignore the price column on the menu.

You settled on the duck and Joel got the steak frites and, once the numbers were out of your head, you were able to relax more, savoring the wine and running your heel-clad foot over the inside of Joel’s leg from across the table.

“You would’ve been makin’ fun of me last night, Baby,” he smiled, taking a sip of his wine. “Remember how I told you Sarah didn’t know what she wanted to bring to school for Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah,” you frowned.

“Well,” he laughed. “She decided yesterday she wanted cupcakes. So we stopped by the store on the way home from scouts, got the themed cake mix, all that. But she really wanted to try and do it herself so I started out just supervisin’… ended up running the cake mix through the pasta strainer to get all the egg shells out of it, that girl was in rare form…”

“Oh no!” You laughed, loud enough that the table close to you shot you a glare and you tried not to laugh harder when you quieted down. “How’d they turn out?”

“Alright I think,” he said. “They were kinda lopsided but tasted fine. We split one this morning.”

“You send her off to school with a sugar high?” You teased.

“Not from half a cupcake,” he waved you off. “The little box of candy I caved and let her have this morning did that.”

You giggled.

“I’m sure her teacher appreciated that.”

“I’m just hopin’ with the sweets from school it carried through to when Tommy picked her up from school,” he smirked a little. “Think I owe ‘em for loading her up with candy after Halloween last year, as if she didn’t have enough already…”

The food was incredible, so good you had to set your fork down to focus on the flavor of the first bite, Joel smiling almost proudly from across the table. By the time you were done, you were two glasses of wine deep - Joel ordering a second for you before you could stop him - and he was holding your calf under the table, hand sliding over the muscle to cup your ankle, thumb massaging the tendon there.

“You’ve been playin’ a dangerous game over there, baby,” he said, voice low.

“You’re hot,” you said, almost shyly. “Can’t help it.”

“Thinkin’ I should get you home,” he said. “Get you outta that dress.”

“I’m thinking you’re right,” you said, heat settling low around your hips.

Joel’s mouth was on you before you even got your front door closed, your arms around his neck and his hands on your ass, holding you tight to the front of him.

“I,” you kissed him. “Got,” another kiss. “You.” Kiss. “Something.”

“Really?”

Another kiss as you nodded.

“Didn’t need to do that, baby…”

“Too bad,” you smiled, kissing him long and hard before pulling back from him. “I like doing stuff for you, too, you know.”

You took his hands and led him to your bedroom, sitting him on the bed before handing him the box with the shirt and frame inside. He opened it almost reverently, a little smile pulling up at the corners of his lips as he did.

“It’s not as good as what you did,” you said, sitting next to him, twisting your fingers around on themselves as he lifted the lid of the box.

“Oh, baby,” he said softly, picking up the frame, his thumb tracing the parts you’d repaired. “This is perfect… when was this?”

“Remember when Sarah and I were on Christmas break and we went to the natural history museum the day before New Year’s Eve?” You said.

“That was a good day,” he smiled down at the picture before setting it on your nightstand and he laughed as he got out the shirt. “Where the hell’d you find this?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye out,” you smiled. “It’s well loved but I did wash it already…”

He cut you off with a kiss before you could finish, dropping the box and the shirt to the floor as he pulled you against him, his lips insistent and needy on yours. He quickly shrugged out of his jacket as you fumbled with the buttons on his shirt and he unzipped your dress. You got each other undressed quickly, his mouth on yours as he lay you below him, his large hand cupping your pussy before he slipped two fingers between your swollen, slick lips, tracing over your entrance before sliding up to tease your clit as he settled between your thighs.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he panted against you, pushing his fingers into your tight channel, just up to the first knuckle. “This all for me, baby?”

You nodded and tried to pull him closer, to bring his body fully against your own, but he stayed just far enough away that you could feel the warmth of his skin but not the softness of him itself. You groaned and he smiled as he trailed kisses over your jaw to your throat.

“Seems like you might want somethin’,” he teased a little. You just nodded. “Should say what you want, baby, so I know what to give you.”

“You,” your fingers scrambled over his back, desperate to find some kind of leverage. “Want you, please Joel…”

He kissed you gently but you could feel the hunger behind it. He needed you, too, you could feel it in him.

“OK baby,” he said softly, lining himself up at your entrance, the swell of his cock just close enough to start to part your walls without pushing in. “Give you what you want…”

He kissed you as he pressed into you, a moment of resistance before the thickness of his shaft entered you. You whimpered at the stretch of him, arching into his touch, your pussy already starting to tighten and flutter around him.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned. “You already close?”

You just nodded as he pushed deeper, his cock opening you to him until he was fully inside you, his head pressed firmly against the part of you that made you press your hips up against him and your fingers dig into his skin. You felt yourself pulse around him once before going even tighter as he moaned, his head dropping to your shoulder.

“Goddamn you feel good,” he panted. “Not gonna last once you come baby, tellin’ you that right now…”

“S’OK,” you clumsily rocked your hips up against his, desperate for that last little bit of friction you needed to push yourself over the edge. “Just… I need…”

“I got you,” he said, pressing somehow deeper and making you whimper below him. “Give you just what you need. Take such good care of you, baby, promise I will.”

He started slow but hard, the steady drag of his cock as he pulled back from you followed by the firm, heavy thrust of him as he fucked back into you. You matched his rhythm, moving your body in time with his, his skin warm on your own, his brown eyes warm and soft and deep on yours. You clung to him as his pace increased, your body getting tighter around him, orgasm building until your head was fuzzy and all you could feel was the desperate heat of pleasure deep inside you.

“Want you to come for me, baby,” Joel panted, one arm slipping below your arched back. He tilted your hips ever so slightly, the angle adjusted just enough that he could press deeper, his hips against your clit, all of him hitting you just right. You gasped at the change, your arms latching onto him tighter, your hips stuttering against him. “Oh fuck, there you go, just come for me, that’s it, c’mon, just give in to it baby, just…”

You cried out as you came, Joel holding you close and tight, his movements never slowing as he chased his own orgasm inside you, thrusting hard and deep until he pressed against the back wall of you as you throbbed over him, coming undone with a shaky groan. You felt him pulse inside of you, emptying himself deep until he went limp on top of you. He adjusted quickly as you caught your breath, rolling onto his back and taking you with him so you ended up sprawled on top of him, your nose nuzzled against his neck as he held you, his large palm gently tracing over your back.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you hummed happily, whole body feeling soft and hazy as you just focused on his skin against yours.

“You’re too good to me,” you sighed as you snuggled into him. You could feel him frown.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Because you are,” you kissed his neck. “You did way too much for me today, I can’t measure up.”

“Hey,” he said quietly, pulling back from you just enough that he could look into your eyes. “Don’t say that, that ain’t true…”

“Yes it is,” you said, running your fingers through his curls. “I loved it, I loved it so, so much. But it’s too much, I can’t do the same in return, I don’t deserve…”

“Yes you do,” he cut you off, giving you a little squeeze. “Baby, you do so much for me just by existing near me, you realize that?” You looked at him skeptically but he didn’t give you a chance to argue. “I mean it. My life is so much better because of you. Never thought I could love someone the way I love you, you made me understand this kind of thing existed at all. You make me laugh more than anyone else I’ve ever met and you are so damn sweet. Plus you’re so smart, I could just sit and watch how your mind works all damn day and never get bored and the fact that you’d just let me… Not to mention how you take care of me and Sarah. Never thought I’d find a woman who could love my little girl like you do. You’ve given me everything and you do it every damn day. I just wanted to try and give you some of that back.”

“Joel,” you said softly, tears burning at the corners of your eyes.

“Never had a ton goin’ for me,” he said, smiling a little. “Always kinda figured I’d fucked my life up at some point but… I wouldn’t have Sarah or you without everything I did leading up to it. Makes me feel like I did something right to get the two of you in the end, you know?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, kissing him softly. “I know.”

He smiled his gentle, crooked smile at you and you just looked into his chocolate brown eyes for a moment before you sat up quickly, remembering.

“I made you brownies!” You almost jumped out of bed and Joel laughed, catching your wrist as you untangled yourself from the sheets.

“Wasn’t done with you yet,” he tugged you closer, kissing up the inside of your arm.

“I’ll be right back,” you said. “Promise.”

You went to the kitchen and put two of the brownies onto a small plate and got a large glass of water before going back to your bedroom, Joel sitting with his back propped against your headboard. You handed him the water before you climbed in bed with him, holding the plate out to him. He laughed a little.

“These look amazing,” he said, picking up a brownie and taking a huge bite, groaning a little in pleasure as he did. “Taste amazing too,” he said, his mouth full. “You’d have been ashamed of those cupcakes…”

“Next time Sarah has a baking project, just call me,” you said, taking a bite of your own brownie. “I take sex in payment for culinary lessons for the right client. Namely you.”

He smiled, tugging you against him.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You snuggled in closer.

“Think we should make these brownies a holiday tradition,” Joel said, finishing his and kissing your temple. “These are damn good.”

“Plenty more where that came from, Miller,” you teased a little, sucking some of the pink frosting off your thumb. “You know, this was my first real Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah?” Joel asked, looking down at you as best he could as you stayed tucked against his side. “I do OK?”

“You did amazing,” you smiled. “Ruined me for all other men.”

“Good,” he said, settling back against the headboard. “Gonna need all other men to keep their hands off you, anyway.”

You smiled a little at that, the idea of being his and he being yours. He nuzzled down into your hair, his lips pressing against the crown of your head.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” he said quietly. “First of many.”

Your smile grew.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #lavender #joel miller x oc #smut fic #send asks #kit answers

152 notes · View notes

tieronecrush · 7 months

Text

hot & heavy

chapter fourteen: stuck forever by the glue

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 7.4k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), feeling familial and self-pressure, established relationship, spanish cause joel is latino, soft joel, very minimal like sweetie possessive joel, struggling with self, discussion of parenting, this is honestly just an ooey gooey syrupy sweet chapter y'all

a/n: this is so wild. it's done! (basically....epilogue to come) i seriously can't express how much it means to me that y'all read and kept up with and cared about my little story. i have fallen in love with writing and i just really thank you all for everything you've given me! i feel so lucky to have so many incredible, talented, all-star humans reading something silly i've made. THANK YOU.

and an extra special thanks to el @northernbluess who has been such a big support throughout my process of writing this story. she's beta-read nearly every single chapter and has helped me so much in developing the characters and the story and just everything. can't write without you, el. love you!

alright, enough from me - enjoy joel & mariposa's ending! and please drop any thoughts or scenarios or milestones you want to see for them in the epilogue into my inbox!!!

“Fuck, oh shit, Joel!”

You’re whisper-yelling as you scramble to throw his comforter off of you, kicking it away from your feet and jumping out of bed. One arm moves up to cover your chest as you whirl around the room looking for your clothes. As you slip your panties up your legs and let them snap against your hips, Joel stirs awake enough to pick his head up, glancing around in a daze.

“What is happening? What’s wrong?” he groggily asks, turning over from lying on his tummy to his back, arm bending to rest against his forehead and shielding his eyes from the early summer morning light peeking through the curtains.

Puffing out a breath to blow the hair from your face, hands occupied with attempting to clasp your bra behind your back, you shoot him a look.

“Check the time,” you order flatly, nodding your chin to his alarm clock at the bedside.

After a delayed beat, Joel’s head turns, studying the display before his bed shoots back to look at you, arm dropped from his head. With his eyebrows raised and mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape, he chuckles quietly at your distress.

Amid your activities from the night before, much like the last week of nights spent with Joel, the alarm on his side had forgotten to be set. Normally, you would brush it off, so long as the two of you were up in time for work, which Sarah usually made sure of thanks to her promptness, even as a ten-year-old.

But today, no, today was a weekend and also the day of the neighborhood’s annual block party and summer barbecue. And you had promised — assured — your mother that you would be up and at ‘em early to help her prep all the food she promised to make and to help decorate the street and all the tables.

Joel had promised — assured — that he set the alarm last night before the two of you started fooling around, distraction imminent for the man with his wandering hands and blood pumping. Turns out, you were apparently too tempting, and too exhausting, of a time to focus on anything else.

“Darlin’, it’ll be fine. Doubt your mom has even noticed your absence, she’s probably so busy already she’s just fluttering around your house.” Joel’s face returns to a drowsy expression, one eyebrow quirking up for a moment as you angrily groan at your t-shirt when struggling to find the head hole with it pulled over your head all lopsided.

He rises from the bed, padding over to you and reaching up to pause your frantic hands. Slow moving, he rights the material and gently tugs it down, revealing your frustrating and pouty look.

Joel coaxes your arms out of their stubborn crossed position over your chest, aiding them into the holes and fully pulling the t-shirt down. Fingers graze the top of your panties from underneath your cotton shirt, satisfied smirk when he feels goosebumps rise.

“She may not notice, but my Dad, who’s probably doing nothing, will notice and tell my mom. And she’ll tell him to go downstairs and check on me.” You swat his hands away gently, stepping backward and turning your head this way and that way to find your shorts. “And if he goes downstairs, and I’m not there, but then magically appear minutes later from my studio, well, I think they’ll clock that something’s up.”

Thick arms wrap around your waist, freezing you in place. One hand gently grips the tip of your chin between his index and thumb, tilting your head to look into his eyes.

“It’ll be fine, Mari baby. You’ll get home and you’ll go upstairs and they won’t even know you were gone for a second.” Joel punctuates his reassurances with a kiss, rubbing slow circles in your lower back.

“You are extremely calm in this situation. Why aren’t you more stressed out than me?” you interrogate, raising one brow and pursing your lips. He chuckles and shrugs, incredibly nonchalant, before pecking your lips once more.

“S’cause I woke up with you next to me.” The grin is evident in his next kiss, pulling one from you no matter how much you fight it. “Plus, had some pretty great sex last night.”

“Oh my god, okay, I’m leaving. Such an idiot—” you smack his arm playfully and untangle from his arms, “ruining a perfectly sweet, wholesome moment.”

“Didn’t ruin anything. Y’know you were thinkin’ the same thing,” he counters as he throws on boxers, following you out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

You glance over your shoulder, shooting him an eye roll while biting back a smile. Padding quickly into the kitchen, you slip your shoes on from where they sit next to the back door, turning toward Joel in a rush as he strides over to you. Still sleepy eyes take you in, grabby hands finding your waist and pulling you in tight to his chest while you groan.

“J, baby, I gotta go.” He buries his head in your neck, shaking it enough for his messy curls to brush against your skin in a tickle. “I’ll see you later, okay? We jus’ have to make it through the party, and then I’m all yours. Deal?”

Lifting his head with an elongated sigh, he nods subtly and sneaks a quick kiss, “Deal. But I kind of don’t want to share you with the whole neighborhood tonight. Wish it was jus’ you and me.”

“Me too, baby, but we’ll survive. We’ve made it this long, haven’t we?” Fingers glide through his hair, pushing it up off his forehead. Before you step back and reach for the door, he pulls you in again, one hand finding your jaw to hold you there as he gives you a slow, syrupy, toe-curling kiss. The linger of it tickles your lips when he pulls away, a drowsy, beaming smile filling his face.

“Love you, Mari baby. See you later.”

“Love you more, J. See y’all later.” One last effort breaks you free of him, slipping out the door with him still on your tail, large palm making contact with your ass in a smack. A look back at him gives you a wink and smirk in return, Joel’s wide frame filling the threshold as you descend his deck stairs and scurry across your lawn to make it home in time.

God, you’re too old to be sneaking around with your boyfriend.

But damn, if he doesn’t make it fun.

Late afternoon, when the sticky, humid air has cooled down only fractions from the peak of the day, the whole onslaught of the neighborhood gathers on your cul-de-sac. Lawn games litter front yards of everyone around, the food tables set up between your driveway and Joel’s. Two grills are lit and manned on the asphalt in front of your garage, barely enough space to cook all the food that could feed an entire army, plus all of your neighbors.

The skirt of your baby blue sundress swishes against your thighs as you flutter around the folding tables set out to frame the street. Borrowed, mismatched tablecloths have been blanketed over the surfaces, and it’s been your latest task to arrange simple centerpieces of wildflowers from your garden beds built by Joel, and vases pulled from the backs of cabinets in your house. With every inch of your movement, your eyes flicker to track Joel’s, licking your lips as you watch the fabric of his muted blue t-shirt pull and strain across his shoulder blades. The hair at the back of his neck curled more from the perspiration that he was building while carrying coolers full of ice, beer, sodas, and water all about the street.

While putting the finishing touches on the last centerpiece, it seems that when you look up again, the whole neighborhood has shown up all at once. Joel’s gone from your line of sight, and you resign to finding the nearest cold beer and being pulled into a conversation with Mrs. Clarke and some of her book club ladies from the street over that you don’t know as well. They fuss over you, admiring your dress and your hair, and commenting repeatedly about ‘how gorgeous and youthful’ you are. As you open your mouth to accept the compliments again with a polite ‘thank you’, a familiar voice cuts in from over your shoulder.

“Excuse me, ladies, I hate to interrupt y’all but I was hoping to steal her away for a bit. Kind of need a partner for some cornhole and we’ve got a winning streak to maintain.” Joel shoots all of the older women a charming grin when you turn to your side to see him, his eyes finding yours for a split second.

“Oh, god, another one of you youngin’ neighbors! I have been loving to see so many new folks move in and all you kids that have returned. It is so lovely,” Mrs. Clarke shares, nodding her head with a mischievous grin toward Joel, “Y’know, y’all are pretty handsome together. Maybe it’s just 'cause y’all are young and beautiful still!”

Mrs. Clarke and the other women laugh, a wide smile on your face as you shake your head, “C’mon, Mrs. Clarke, you’re beautiful — Joel’s actually been tellin’ me he’s got a crush on a neighbor, my bets are on you.”

She laughs again, waving off the compliments, “Well I wouldn’t go gambling if that’s how you bet, sugar. I think you’d be at the top of all the lists if you ask everyone here; you’ve been the talk of the neighborhood since you came back from that big ol’ city you were in. Everybody’s been saying how you are still such a sweet girl, but I can tell something’s different. In a good way.”

She shoots you a wink and you soak in the sentiments, looking over to Joel when he cuts in again.

“I think I’d agree with ya, ma’am. Definitely different in a good way. Like whiskey in a teacup.” The look in his eyes is filled with the silent affection that his words coil around, saying all that he can’t say at the moment. Instead, he wraps up the conversation for you, thanking the four women before letting you step ahead of him, his hand barely ghosting over your back in what would look to be an innocent gesture.

“Now did you really want to play bags or was that just an excuse?” you tease, taking a sip of your drink while you two wander over to the game set up in the grass.

Joel shrugs, smile toying at his lips, “Had to be able to find a way to sweet talk my crush now, didn’t I?”

A roll of your eyes and growing smirk encourages him, nudging your side with his elbow, “Y’think Mrs. Clarke is gonna go around gossipin’ about us when the whole neighborhood finds out I’ve got a crush on you and not her?”

“Oh definitely. Lived here my whole life, that woman knows everybody’s business before they know it themselves. Don’t be surprised if she’s told everybody you’re in love with me by the time this evening’s wrappin’ up.” Squatting down, Joel gathers up the bean bags from the surface of the handbuilt gameboards, handing you the green while he takes the yellow.

As he deposits them one by one in your open palm, he shoots you a genuine, shy smile. “Well, wouldn’t be a lie so I guess it would jus’ help me out. Maybe we should tell Mrs. Clarke and then everybody will know tonight.”

“Haha. Very funny, Miller,” you reply dryly, shooting him a playfully annoyed look before starting the game between the two of you.

The back-and-forth flows easily for the two of you, both in gameplay and banter. At the game-point throw, you sink it in the hole, cheering for yourself when you nail the score of exactly twenty-one. Joel tosses his own, flicking his wrist only slightly at the last moment to scratch the throw, leaving you victorious. He smiles to himself as he watches you eagerly clap for yourself, turning to him and nodding toward the spread of food that was finally laid out.

You’re so beautiful.

The look you’re giving him sends a jolt into his spine, fuzzing his brain while the butterfly in his chest rapidly pumps its wings.

“C’mon, let's eat. All that losin’ probably worked up an appetite for you.” Without clasping around his, your hand brushes your fingers against the back of his palm. The softness leaves an itch on his skin, his nerves simply jumping for the chance to touch you. You lead confidently while he trails behind in your wake, observing as everyone sends you a smile or a greeting that you return right back with a glow.

He’d follow you anywhere.

And he knows how damn lucky he is that you’re willing to let him.

It’s what he can’t help but continue to think about as the night rolls on, watching you from his place at a table with a handful of the guys from the neighborhood, including your dad and brother, and Tommy, who stopped over after his own plans for the evening went belly up. While he nurses the beer from the glass bottle in his hand, you are bouncing with a baby on your hip to the beat of the song playing over the speakers. It’s the kid you nanny, having taken her from her parents to let them eat and enjoy a moment of calmness with everyone while you keep the young one entertained.

The happy baby babbles in your arms as you dance with her subtly, standing in a small group of other neighbors. It’s so natural for you, the way you’re nurturing and easily adapting to having a little human attached to your side. He can��t shake the way his body is begging him to get up and go over to you, wanting to help you, to play pretend for a moment that it’s an addition to your little family in your arms.

He nearly stumbles over himself to get out of his seat when Sarah pulls you away from the group, thanking his daughter inside his head for giving him the perfect excuse to be close to you in the moment. Tommy chuckles to himself when he follows where Joel’s gaze is aimed, shaking his head subtly at his older brother’s obvious stare.

Joel doesn’t pay him any mind as he walks over toward you and Sarah, brushing against your side as he folds forward at his waist to press a kiss to the top of his daughter’s curly hair. The baby is babbling again in your arms, wiggling and mouthing on her hand while she stares at Joel. He shoots her a smile, opening and closing his fingers in a loose fist to wave.

“Hey there, little one. Now who’s this?” he asks, eyes finding your face while you grin at the happy baby girl in your arms.

“This is Amelia. She’s Brian and Steph’s daughter, the one I’ve been nannying this summer since Steph’s gone back to work,” you adjust her again and Joel nods, reaching out absentmindedly to lay a hand on Sarah’s head.

“Isn’t she so cute, Daddy?” Sarah laughs quietly when Amelia squeals excitedly. Her hand tugs on Joel’s shirt to grab his attention back from staring at you, eyebrows raised, and the same look on her face that she gets when she desperately wants a toy from the store. “I want to get a baby!”

He nearly chokes on his breath when he rushes to respond, hearing your quiet giggle as he coughs before clearing his throat. Addressing Sarah, he gives her an understanding smile, “Babies are pretty cute, aren’t they? But you’ll need to be much, much older until you can get a baby, mija. Like you’ll need to be Posey’s age or even better, you can be Daddy’s age and get a baby for yourself, alright?”

“That’s not very fun. You’re old, I don’t wanna wait that long. It’s like an eternity,” she replies bluntly, causing you to laugh and Joel to shoot you a warning look before he returns to Sarah.

“Trust me, Bug, it’s not that long in the grand scheme of things. Before I know it, you’ll be out of my house and I’ll be even more ancient, apparently, and you’ll have your own babies. All in due time, mija. Don’t wish away your life.” He pats her curls while she stands, thought clearly turning in her head.

A lightbulb goes off and she gasps, clapping her hands together as she says only to the two of you, “I know! You can get another baby, Daddy, and then I’ll have a cute one to play with. You can get one with Posey.”

Sarah beams with what seems like a completely genius idea to her, waiting for a response or a plan of action to get this all set in motion for her. You laugh again, stepping in when Joel can’t seem to find the right words to say.

He doesn’t want to outwardly deny it. Definitely doesn’t want you to think that is something he wouldn’t want. He’s told you as much.

But he also doesn’t want to step in any hot water, doesn’t want to put his foot in his mouth if it really is something you haven’t thought about much.

“That is such a smart idea, Sare-Bear,” you grin comfortingly and reach out a free hand to brush her hair back, “Y’know who else you could ask to have a baby? Uncle Tommy. Why don’t you go ask him why he doesn’t have a girlfriend so that he can give you a cousin?”

Sarah giggles and matches your mischievous energy, scampering off to go wholesomely harass her uncle. You turn to Joel, your face twisting into curiosity when you can’t read the look on his face.

“What? Should I have explained where babies come from to her or something instead? Was it a bad idea to sick her on Tommy?”

“No, not at all. To answer both your questions,” he bites back from absolutely beaming, turning his gaze to baby Amelia’s chubby cheeks when his voice drops to a level only audible to you standing inches from him, “Would you?”

“Would I what?” Your head tilts to the side, adjusting Amelia on your hip and hiking her up. Joel opens his mouth to clarify his question when Steph sidles up next to you, thanking you profusely while she takes her daughter back into her arms. The interaction warms Joel’s blood in his veins, the wings of the butterfly pushing the rattle of nerves into his throat.

Everyone loves you so much here, and you really do have love for everyone.

A fucking solid gold heart inside of you and Joel can’t believe you’ve given even a piece, a sliver, of it to him to safeguard.

Turning your attention back to him when the two of you are left alone, you lift the corner of your lip up in an anxious comfort, “So, would I what?”

“Would you have a kid? With me. Would you have a kid with me?” It all rushes out, words blending together but you understand all the same. A quiet laugh rolls from your chest, skyrocketing his worry in the moment before you shake your head and give his bicep a quick, but reassuring squeeze.

“Course I would, J. Don’t think anything would make me happier.” Your eyes sparkle in the setting sunlight, the solid and steady beat of his heart surely heard over the music and noise by everyone around you both. Pressing his lips together to restrain himself, he nods slowly and attempts to remain casual.

“I wanna kiss you so fucking much right now, Mari.”

“I want that, too. But I think Mrs. Clarke would be jealous. Stealin’ you away from her.” The joke breaks the tension, sending him into a small fit of laughter, shaking his head at your ridiculousness.

“Guess I better go ask Mrs. Clarke the same question then, huh? Keep my options open.”

“Better go. Give her enough time to tell Mr. Clarke she’s running away with the neighbor forty years younger than her.”

“Definitely think that’d go over better than you, the beloved, sweet neighborhood girl, running away with me.”

“Oh hush, doesn’t matter how well it’d go over. Jus’ matters if we can run fast enough away from the angry mob that’s gonna come after ya.” You wink and laugh again, your head shaking back and forth before it whips in the direction of your mom calling your name. Another soft and subtle touch is fleetingly felt against his skin, turning over your shoulder to mouth a quick ‘love you’ to him as you walk away.

He returns it before searching around to fill his hands before returning back to the table and sitting down next to his brother. Joel sets the full beer bottle next to his half-full one, eyes still trained on you before Tommy grabs his attention with a hard jab to his side and snags the full beer.

“So why the hell is my niece asking me when I’m gonna get a girlfriend so I can have a baby?”

Night has overtaken the sky, with sprinklings of stars and a waxing moon as its centerpieces. Everyone along the road has turned on their porch lights, extra portable camping lights, and hanging lanterns brought out to make enough light to continue the party. The handful of neighborhood kids run around to catch fireflies while the adults either stand around in conversations or gather in the open space between all of the tables to dance. Your parents, ever the hosts that they are, have popped back into the house to gather more drinks and desserts for everyone. Wrapped up in a chat about a potential hire for a job with a guy from a few streets over, Joel hasn’t paid mind to where you’re at or if Sarah’s running along with the other kids. He shakes the man’s hand and promises to stop by when he can during the week to check out exactly what the job would entail and if his guys can get it done.

Turning away, the sight of you is perfectly framed by warm lights, a tunnel of everything else fading away while he observes you from across the street. The mop of curls he loves dearly bounces around with you, your hands holding Sarah’s and spinning her around the dancefloor. His daughter’s laughter hits his ears over the sound of the music, tugging a smile onto his face that nearly matches your beaming grin.

This whole night, he hasn’t been able to stay away from you long. And he hasn’t been able to shake the feeling of how desperate he is to stay in your pull, to be able to make you smile and laugh, to make you happy.

You do so much for others, offering a hand or making them smile with your genuine care and humor. Everyone is so drawn to you, he’s not the only one who wants to have you around. And he knows about what you’re going through behind closed doors, the things you tell him about when no one else will listen or understand. The same things he heard from you when you were thousands of miles away, voice crackling over the phone. All he wants to do is to be there for you, to show you the same kindness that you show him, that you show everyone you encounter.

Ever since he met you, he’s never wanted to be apart from you. But he didn’t trust himself not to make selfish decisions, so he pushed you away that first summer, and let you go the second. Now, with no endings in sight at the end of summer, anything is possible.

One thing’s for sure though — he’s tired of hiding.

All it does is take up more energy that he could be giving to you, to Sarah, to a better future for all of you.

And fuck’s sake, if he doesn’t want everyone to know that you chose him. The best person he knows — has ever known — chose him and continues to choose him, to forgive him, to love him. He doesn’t know what the future holds, doesn’t know what everything will look like for y’all in a week, in a year, in a decade, but all he can say is that whatever it all entails, however much it scares him, he wants you there by his side. He needs you.

Without a second thought, he moves toward you as the song changes, depositing his nearly empty drink on the nearest table. Swiping his clammy hands on his jeans as he walks, he takes a deep breath before he taps you on the shoulder. He shoots Sarah a wink over your shoulder while you turn around, her giggle bringing a lopsided grin to his face.

“Oh, Joel, what’s up?” you ask casually, cocking an eyebrow up in confusion.

He addresses Sarah in the next moment, putting on a formal tone and clearing his throat, “Excuse me, Miss Sarah, but would you mind if I steal Mariposa away for a dance?”

“Of course not, Daddy!” she grins widely, showing off her missing tooth that came out a few nights ago, “Have fun, Posey!”

Sarah scurries off to find her friends from the neighborhood, and Joel holds his hand out with a soft smirk. Utterly puzzled, you glance around before focusing back on Joel at the sound of his voice.

“May I have this dance, Mari?”

You’re surprised, stumbling out a response as you tentatively place your hand in his, “Yes, I mean — yes, but — What are you doing, J?”

With your hand in his, he leads you further into the couples dancing along to the sweetly slow love song playing. In the middle, he stops and faces you, keeping your hand in his, holding them up close with a bent elbow while his other finds your waist and pulls you in closer. The two of you start to sway and Joel’s lips settle next to your ear while you dance.

“Joel, everyone’s staring…and talking amongst themselves. What are you doing?” you ask in a hushed voice, pulling away to look into his eyes. Anxiety flashes in yours and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze before replying.

“M’letting go, mi amor. Let ‘em stare,” he replies, the corners of his lips rising in a tender grin. He slips his hand from yours, fingers trailing down your arm to bring it to rest on his shoulder like your other one. Both of his hands spread across your hips, pressing into the fabric of your dress and pushing around to settle at your lower back.

“But they’re gonna start spreading shit and I know you weren’t ready before to tell anyone else — my parents might be around, J. I don’t want you to do this if you aren’t ready, or if you’re just doing this for me.”

He leans closer, tilting his head down to lay his forehead against yours. Holding your eyes, he speaks quietly, voice rasping with the strain of the volume and the emotion coating his words, “El amor es ciego, pero los vecinos no. (Love is blind, but the neighbors aren’t.) There’s always going to be people to gossip, or to whisper about us. All that matters to me is what you think, and how you feel. I want to be able to tell everyone that you’re mine, and I’m yours. I’m so lucky, and I am so proud to be your partner in life, Mari baby. M’tired of trying to predict what the future’s gonna be for us, and m’tired of trying to keep the reality of life away from us. Truth is, I don’t think there’s anything that life could throw at me or you that we couldn’t get through together. I need you there, always, sweet girl. Todo va a salir bien. Everything will work out.”

“I-God, I don’t even know what to say…” Tears well at your waterline, none daring to fall over the edge while you attempt to remain composed for the crowd that is surely watching everything happening. “All I can think about is how much I love you, Joel. And I want all of the same things, and I know that with you, we can handle whatever life has planned for us.”

“I love you too, baby. Te amo siempre, mi Mariposa. (I love you always, my Mariposa).”

The song’s last few notes fade out, some of the couples filtering out of the dance floor when the music changes over. After another short peck from Joel, the bubble the two of you were in dissolves when Sarah runs up, asking Joel if she can have another cookie. He gives her the quick go-ahead, watching her rush off as quickly as she came, and suddenly you’re reminded you’re in the middle of the whole neighborhood.

No one says anything as you lead Joel away, hand-in-hand. But a few looks are exchanged and the eyes of everyone feel hot on your neck. A glance around proves your parents aren’t outside still, and your stomach flips with the real possibility that someone, particularly nosey neighbors, may have beaten you to the punch in terms of telling them about you and Joel.

Tugging him from a good few steps ahead, Joel widens his strides to catch up easily as you beeline toward your garage, the mechanical door wide open for people to come and go as needed. You stop in your tracks right in front of the door to the inside, taking a deep breath before turning around to face Joel.

“Alright, it’s now or never, J. Either we’re the ones to tell our parents, or they find out from Mrs. Clarke’s book club that we were on the dancefloor and kissin’ each other and—”

Joel interrupts your ramblings with a gentle chuckle, tilting his head to the side as he looks over your face before locking his eyes with yours.

“So are we the ones meant to be saying we were on the dancefloor and kissin’ each other?” he asks with a smirk, one eyebrow raising in question.

“Oh, c’mon, Joel.”

“M’kiddin’, Mari. It’s now or never, and I am not a man that says never. So lead the way, sweet girl.” He gestures to the door behind you, a genuine smile on his face quelling your heightened nerves.

If you could read his mind, you know he’s freaking out right now.

But no, instead he’s keeping it cool on the outside, trying to be a calming presence for your own anxious thoughts.

Can’t help but ask himself questions. What if your parents get upset or angry? What if they dismiss it, not believing that it would ever work between the two of them? What if they take it out on you? It’s not your fault that they didn’t find out earlier — would they hate him if he defends you in an argument? What if they don’t think he is good enough for you?

He has his own doubts, but hearing it from your parents would crush him.

You walk ahead of him, holding onto his hand while you walk inside and through your empty living room. He drops his hand from yours right on the threshold of your kitchen and gives you a tight smile when you look back at him. Wiping his clammy hands on his jeans, he takes a deep breath before following you into the room.

Clearing your throat to grab your parents' attention, you saddle up to the island and lean forward with your elbows on the cool countertops. Joel stands next to you, a respectable distance away but you feel the itch to bring him closer. Your dad turns around first, pausing his task of filling a cooler with ice from the freezer.

“Hey there, kiddo. Oh, and heya, Miller! Y’all havin’ a good time tonight? Need anything?”

“Or are y’all bein’ sweethearts and have come inside to help us with all this?” Your mom nods over her shoulder to the rest of the desserts plated across the counters.

She turns around next after washing her hands at the kitchen sink, patting them dry with a towel before she crosses the small walkway to settle on the other side of the island. Joel shakes his head when you’re silent for a moment, giving both of your parents a smile.

“No, don’t need anything. And I would be happy to help, ma’am—” Joel ever so politely offers before you interrupt him.

“I, uh, I actually wanted to talk to y’all about something.” Your voice wavers only slightly, a stuttering sound coming from your throat as you clear it again. One of your mom’s eyebrows raises in curiosity, much more sprawling thoughts happening in the subtle twitches of her eyes as she looks at your face, then at Joel’s, and back to you.

Your dad is a bit oblivious.

“Joel and I will leave ya to it, y’all can fill me in later,” he faces Joel, nodding toward the direction of the door and closing the top of the cooler he packed full of ice a minute ago. Joel opens his mouth to respond when you fill in again quickly, holding a hand up to stop your dad’s movements.

“No, um, actually, it’s better if you’re both here and Joel’s here ‘cause, well…” A flip of your stomach nearly sends your dinner back up, but you swallow it down and lock your eyes on your hands as you finally spill the secret you’ve kept for the last three summers.

“Joel and I are together. Like in a relationship. A serious one.” You kept adding clarifications to fill the silence that’s fallen over the room, and Joel steps closer, reaching a hand up to rest on your back between your shoulder blades. He braces for ridicule, eyes trained on you as you keep yours on your hands.

Nothing. Your parents are saying nothing.

And you cannot take the silence anymore, so you begin to recount it all from the first summer, meeting him and getting to know him — sparing the details of the two of you…getting together. The short month-long second summer, Joel holding out his hope for you to stay but eventually letting you go. The year between that time and the beginning of this summer, infrequent phone calls and life updates. And finally, this summer, when you came back with no end in sight and nothing holding the two of you back. Given the chance to finally give it a proper go, and falling even more in love with him than you thought you could love anyone.

Your eyes flick to Joel’s as you confess that, and he returns the sentiment with a warm smile and his hand rubbing slow circles against the bare skin of your back exposed by your thinly-strapped dress.

God, you really do love him.

So much so, it occurs to you that it doesn’t really matter what comes after this. You choose him, and he’s chosen you, and your family would have to accept it. You’ve spent too much time without him in your life, completely, and there isn’t going to be another summer ending in heartbreak.

At the end of your three-summer abridged summary, Joel turns toward your parents, speaking up for himself. “I just—I want to tell you both that I care very much about your daughter. I love her dearly, and my life’s gotten astronomically better since she stepped into it. Mine and Sarah’s. You’ve raised an incredible woman, someone who is kind but never lets anyone push her around. A complete force.” Joel turns back to you, a growing, shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “I can only hope that Sarah gets the same fierceness and is as self-willed as you. I’ve said it before, but you’ve got a golden heart. You’re magic.”

The four of you talk it through, fielding their questions and small concerns as best as you can to reassure them. They share a look before your mom speaks, taking a deep breath that lifts and drops her shoulders.

“We can’t say that it’s not going to be an adjustment. I mean, dropping this all on us after not telling us for so long is a lot to process—”

“Of course, of course. I should’ve said something earlier, I’m sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize. I just…Did you feel like you couldn’t talk to us about it or something, sweetie?” There’s a thickness in your mom’s voice, one that makes your chest ache.

“Oh, mom, no. It wasn’t like that, I—”

“I was the nervous one. I asked for more time before we told you this summer. I know how extraordinary your daughter is; she is definitely too good for me, and I was real nervous that you wouldn’t approve. I mean, I definitely have a different life than probably what you pictured. But I want to promise you both that I am proving myself every day to her. I always want to be better.”

To your surprise, your dad cuts in before you or your mom can say anything.

“You’re right. Our daughter is extraordinary…” He paused, continuing, “But you’re a good man, Joel. Trustworthy, dependable, respectful. And you very clearly love our daughter. There’s nothing more I could ask of someone for her. So long as she has a good, happy life, I’m content.”

Joel exchanges a relieved smile with your dad, your focus on your mom again as one arm snakes around Joel’s back to hold you closer.

“Your dad said it. If you’re happy, honey, then we’re happy…” She studies the two of you with tender care in her eyes, holding her hands to her chest before releasing them with a content sigh. “And I mean, I knew.”

Immediately, your brow furrows with confusion and Joel laughs, holding it back when you shoot him a warning look. Returning to your mom, you raise a question in response, “I’m sorry, you knew? How did you know?”

“Well, nothing was ever confirmed. But I did mention to your father quite a few times how I caught you sneaking glances and smiles toward Joel.” She directs the next question to your dad, whose focus has been lost on the plate of desserts in front of him, “And, how often did I mention to you catching Joel looking at her like all of the sunlight was radiating from her? Like he was completely head over heels.”

“Oh, all the time,” your dad answers nonchalantly. You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief, Joel’s laughter bubbling over while he tugs you into his side and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“To be honest, I thought maybe he was just in love with you and you were either oblivious or waiting for him to say something. Glad to hear that I was right!” she jests, laughing to herself and exhaling dramatically.

“So does this mean I can get my renovations done with a discount?” Your dad tilts his head up to look directly at Joel who holds a hand up in oath.

“Free labor from me always, sir. Can’t promise the discount for Tommy’s help, though.”

“Oh god, Dad, seriously?” you groan, rolling your head back while Joel looks on with a smile.

‘What? What’s wrong with asking that, kiddo?” Once again oblivious, your mom waves him off to drag the cooler of drinks outside. When he’s gone from the kitchen, she rounds the island, beaming with a grin.

“Well, I just can’t wait to already live next to my grandbabies! Don’t even need to move to be any closer, unless we move in with y’all into somewhere bigger—”

“Alright, Mom, I think the party’s probably missin’ these desserts, yeah?” You usher her by handing her a tray. She gives you a motherly eye roll before resigning her thoughts and taking the plate.

“Fine, fine, I’m going!” She shuffles in her sandals before glancing back at the edge of the threshold, “We really are happy for y’all.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Oh, Joel, c’mon. You’re part of the family now, call me Jen. And you can call her dad Mark, even if he gives you shit for it, he’s just trying to make you nervous. And then tell me, I’ll give him shit right back.”

At the click of the door shutting behind your parents, you face him and grin ecstatically, clasping your hands together. Joel’s shoulders relax with a sigh and your arms hook around his neck. He scoops you up in a hug, laughing when you shriek excitedly. Spinning the two of you around in a small circle, he settles still again, eyes locking with yours as a wide smile replaces his once apprehensive expression.

Joel nudges your nose with his, slow, warm breaths exchanged in the closeness before he kisses you. Slow, delicate, light melting into fervor — hot and heavy with all your love for each other.

Breathless, you pull away and he chases your lips for a chaste kiss, pressing his forehead against yours while you both start to laugh quietly.

“What a summer, huh?” you ask, another fit of laughter leaving your mouth.

“Definitely was a fun summer, sweetheart. And the last two, too.” Joel shakes his head, thumb brushing your cheek as he grins back at you, “Can’t wait to have all my summers with you, Mariposa.”

An ache is felt in your cheeks from smiling, but the dull pain pales in comparison to the all-over lightness; adrenaline and excitement make you feel as if you’re buzzing head to toe. Stealing another kiss from Joel, you feel him grin against your lips. Breathy chuckles fill the space between you when you pull away, tilting your head back in his hand to see more of his face.

“Wanna dance, J?”

“With you? Anytime, Mari baby. Lead the way.” He nods toward the door, taking your hand and following you closely as you head back to the party. Coming back out, all the eyes and whispers aren’t feeling like heat against your skin, instead the warmth of Joel’s palm grounds you and sends a shiver down your spine. He takes the lead in the moment, stepping ahead when you falter for a second and pulling you to the middle of the asphalt-turned-dancefloor.

The ever-so-familiar piano trills, along with the bright, smooth voice of Don McLean start to play out on the speakers, bringing wide smiles to both of your faces. As the beat picks up, Joel starts singing along, taking your hands from his shoulders and spinning you around as if you were swing dancing.

Both of you were clumsy, tripping over each other, but your laughter only brought brilliant, broad grins to your faces. The rest of the party fell away — it was only you and Joel, and all the memories that this song brought back.

The skirt of your dress kicks up as he spins you around and around, pulling you into his chest and swaying with you for the entire song, his deep and drawling voice singing along to the lyrics and sending goosebumps spreading across your skin despite the humid, sticky heat of the night. His steps slow down at the end, turning you both in one final, exaggerated circle before settling on the last note.

Joel looks down at you, adoration glinting in his eyes and his dimple showing as his mouth holds his smile. One of your hands slips away from his, reaching up to skim your fingers along his patchy beard and rest at the side of his neck. With another song turning over on the speakers, Joel leans down and catches your lips in a supple kiss. It’s slow and saccharine, savoring the taste of you on his tongue before he pulls away, waiting with bated breath.

You break the moment with a sweet, melodic laugh and a shake of your head.

“Of course, that song came on. Did you plan all this, Miller?” you interrogate playfully, the world still tunneled between the two of you.

“Absolutely not. But pretty serendipitous, yeah? Guess we should take that as a sign. Right person, right time. Finally.” His response gives you another laugh, nodding before going in for another short kiss.

“Yeah, think it’s safe to say it's the right time, finally. Was always the right person.”

“You can say that again, Mari baby.”

taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @sw33tp1xie @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @angie2274 @pedrostories @pedroholic @theelishad @johnwatsn @elissa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain @northernbluess @cannolighost @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @anoverwhelmingdin @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @planet-marz1 @kiwisbell @lizzie-cakes

#joel #writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller au #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller angst #joel miller series #tlou fanfic #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction

253 notes · View notes

readriordan · 6 months

Text

Happy Halloween!

A day of ghouls and specters, there isn't a better time to be a chthonic demigod - aka a demigod of the Underworld! So let's check in on some of our favorite chthonic kids and see how they spent their holiday:

Nico di Angelo

"I'm not exactly the most popular kid in Camp Half-Blood most days, but Halloween is different. We didn't really celebrate it back in my day in Italy, but I almost feel obligated now. I mean, I'm king of ghosts, I think that means I win Halloween, right? Anyways, I turned Cabin 13 into a haunted house for the other campers this evening. I've even got skeletons roaming around, and Jules-Albert is giving out candy. Usually people would be screaming about that, but the other campers love it. It's nice to be seen as cool for a change."

Hazel Levesque

"Camp Jupiter is busy during the holidays! Everybody's going trick-or-treating around New Rome. In the legion the cohorts are giving out candy to each other and holding a competition to see who can get the biggest haul. Even the lares are getting in on the fun trying to prank campers. Frank and I are on duty in the praetors' offices for any trick-or-treaters who come by. Usually some of the houses in New Rome stay open a little bit later though for the centurions once they get off of door duty, so we'll still have time to go wandering later. Plus, we get all the leftovers anyways, so we'll have plenty of treats regardless!"

Clovis

"Oh, Lou Ellen and I made a deal for tonight - she's going as Kiki from Kiki's Delivery Service, and she said if she can turn me into a cat for the evening she'll split her candy with me 50/50. And I get to nap the whole time. Not too bad of a deal for me, honestly. If I want I could honestly probably make the rounds again for seconds, since nobody would know I was already there. Total win-win."

Lou Ellen Blackstone

"Clovis probably already told you about my costume, but what he doesn't know is that my cabin is going all out. We're not gonna let Cabin 13 win spookiest haunted house, at least not without a fight! Sure he has skeletons and ghosts, but like, c'mon! That's gotta be cheating, right? Us Hecate kids take Halloween very seriously, of course. Especially trick-or-treat. Let's just say we tend to prefer the trick half a little bit more. We'll see how many campers get turned into animals by the end of the night. Unfortunately, Clovis doesn't count towards that."

Alabaster Torrington

"Well, normally I would be spending Halloween with my family, but seeing as the gods exiled me, I can't. That's alright though - I have a plan. You see, me and Dr. Claymore are gonna go scam campers out of their candy. I may be exiled, but as long as I stay outside the borders of Camp Half-Blood, I'm not breaking the rules, and they never said anything about Mistforms. And I might be able to say hi to my half-siblings while I'm there. Just as long as nobody rats me out to Chiron we're good. I'm sure I can convince them to keep quiet in exchange for king-sized candy bars. Oh, someone's coming - gotta go!"

What a spooky bunch! We hope you all had a happy and safe Halloween with plenty of treats.

#pjo #riordanverse #readriordan #read riordan #nico di angelo #hazel levesque #clovis pjo #lou ellen blackstone #alabaster torrington

269 notes · View notes

hitomisuzuya · 1 year

Note

HII SUZUU!! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I seriously missed sending Requests since you're literally one of the best writers that I've ever seen! <33

I was wondering if you could do a Scaramouche x Reader x Kunikuzushi BUT a Celestial Type? (NSWF OFC COURSEE)

Like Scaramouche is a Demon and Kunikuzushi is an Angel. Them always fighting one for Distruction and the other for Peace.

What if they both laid their Eyes on Reader? Kunikuzushi always following reader like a Lost Puppy but being extremely Perverty while Scaramouche is always in the Shadows watching us like a Pray...

Poor Kunikuzushi losing his Innocence after he found some of reader's used underwears and him using them to jerk off (what a pervert angel!) But Scaramouche is another story..

Scaramouche literally appearing in front of reader while reader was taking a bath and fucking them till they become a little dumb pet<33

If you do this request then thank you cuz I WILL LITERALLY DIE CUZ I WAS DREAMING OF IT LAST NIGHT😻

Demon!Scaramouche x fem!reader Angel!Kunikuzushi x fem! reader. Smut. Masturbation. Dumbification.

I got a little filthy with this one. Thank you for spoiling me with such a delicious ask and your kind words❤️ Sorry it took me a few days to write this. Here is the pitch and I hope you enjoy. I tagged them as Yanderes cause it seemed fitting.

Angel! Kunikuzushi who clung to you the moment he met you, following you everywhere like a lost puppy. When he wasn't fighting Scaramouche's constant need to spread chaos and destruction around him, he spent his time obsessing about you.

He was reduced to a panting, moaning mess on the floor of your room, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, his cum shooting to stain the fabric of your panties again, having lost count of how many times he'd come awhile ago.

Every now and then, Kunikuzushi's soft lilac eyes would focus on the scene going on in the bath tub, his cock hardening again, fucking himself into your panties, letting out a desperate whine that made the demon fucking his precious girl dumb in the bathtub laugh.

Demon! Scaramouche thought Kunikuzushi sounded just as pathetic as you did, begging for him to fuck you harder, your walls clamping around his cock, squirting into the warm water as it sloshed around you.

While Kunikuzushi followed close behind you with every step he took, begging for you to touch him even a little bit in a way that would make him jack off for hours just thinking about it, Scaramouche preferred to stay in the shadows, stalking and watching you.

Waiting for the right time to take you, fucking your brains out and reducing you to nothing but a dumb little pet who begs for his cock inside of you like you crave it.

"More!" You cried out, digging your fingernails into his back, your legs wrapping around him to push him deeper inside of you. "Make me come again, please! I'll do anything you want, Scaramouche! Please!"

"I'll put on a collar on you, then. It'll be the perfect touch for my fuck toy to wear," He slammed himself inside of you again after he pulled his cock out of just to watch the cum gush from your cunt. "I'm going to enjoy to staining that with my cum once I buckle it around your pretty throat. I'll yank on it while I fuck you, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Scaramouche pinched one of your nipples roughly, making you cry out, bucking your hips up to meet his thrusts. "I would love that more than anything! Scara! Scara!" Every thrust coiled your orgasm tighter and until you came again, your mouth agape, your tongue hanging a little from the side of your mouth.

He continued to thrust into you, making bath water slosh out onto the floor. "You sound like such a dumb slut," His degradation continued to make your walls clamp around his cock, tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks as you choked out sobs of pleasure. "Go ahead, say Kunikuzushi's name too. Give him a thrill. It'll make that angel cum right on your panties the second it hears it."

When you could only babble incoherently, Scaramouche laughed and pulled out of you. "Opps, I guess you are too fucked dumb to listen to a word I say." Shoving you away from him, he lifted himself to sit on the edge of the tub. Grabbing a handful of your hair, he shoved your head down, forcing his cock into your mouth.

"Suck loudly now, my pet. I want Kunikuzushi to see you drool all over my cock while my cum spills from your mouth," Scaramouche moaned when you took him into your mouth, flattening your tongue along his cock in an almost worshipping manner.

You did hear yourself much after that, maybe a whimper that sounded like an echo in your ears as you swallowed his cum, your throat convulsing as you coughed.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #scaramouche #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #kunikuzushi #yandere kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi smut #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x you #kunikuzushi x y/n

827 notes · View notes

bpsmuts · 1 year

Text

Truth or Dare - Rose [PART 1]

Rose x Male Reader

Words: 1.036

Summary: Your Childhood friend Rose and you spent the night at her place and decide to play truth or dare...

"Come on, be a little more daring!" Rose yells at you after you've picked truth for the 3rd time in a row. "Fine. Dare" you give in. "Finally, I thought I was gonna be stuck asking about your boring sex life all night" Rose replied.

Using her opportunity she finds a good dare. "I dare you to kiss me!" she says. "On the mouth" she adds before you could protest. "Really Rose? I've known you since Elementary School" You try to protest without luck.

"You've also seen me in underwear a dozen times, hell I've changed in front of you... and you're scared to kiss me?" Rose mocks you. "Yeah but that's different" You try to protest once more. "Okay fine, if you don't wanna do it its fine... didn't take you for such a chicken" Rose teases again.

You typically didn't let stuff like that get to you, especially if it came from Rose, but at that point you knew you had to prove her wrong. You stood up so fast that you practically leaped onto her, making her fall over, before planting your lips on hers for a full 10 seconds.

"Am I still a chicken now?" You ask as you move off Rosie and both of you sit back up. "No, but I hope this isn't the furthest you'll go"- You knew Rose was just saying these things to get into your head and you knew that it was also working perfectly, but you didn't care, you wanted to prove yourself to her.

"Okay your turn!" Rose tells you in her cute New Zealand accent. "Truth or Dare Rosie?" you ask her. "Unlike you, I'm not a pussy... Dare!". "I dare you to touch your boobs for 1 full round" You say confidently. "Touch my boobs? Seriously? I'd do that if you ask nicely, give me a real dare Y/N" Rose shatters your idea.

"A real dare?" You ask surprised. "Okay, I dare you to... uhh.. let me take off your panties and keep them!". "See now that's a proper dare" Rose happily replies as she gets up from the floor.

You slip your arms underneath her skirt and slowly pull down a pair of red lacy panties. "Red huh?" you ask her intrigued. "Had to match the skirt Mr. I have no idea how fashion works" Rose responds mockingly.

"Dare!" You tell Rose, before she could even ask you. "I dare you to kiss my lips" Rosie responds with a smile on her face. "Again?" you ask while moving closer to her face. As your lips are about to reach hers Rosie however intervenes "Stop! Not those lips" Rose tells you with your lips just inches away.

You freeze and think for a second before Rose whispers "My Vagina" She slides back "You want me to kiss your vag-..." you abruptly end your sentence as you've already been picked on too many times by her this evening and instead comply and move towards her crotch.

"And Y/N, French Kiss please!" Rose adds as she opens her legs, revealing her slightly wet pussy to you. You've never seen it before, even though Rosie has changed in front of you a couple times... You've just never been interested in her the way you are now.

As you get closer to her core, you can feel the warmth radiating from her and you even pick up a sweet smell coming from her folds directly.

Right as you are about to start your dare, you realize that this is the time, you can prove Rose wrong once and for all. She's teased you for so long, calling you a chicken and even though it was just friendly banter, you wanted to show her your other side.

You start by kissing her inner thighs, to bait out a witty comment from her, which worked perfectly. "You know that isn't my vaginAaahh" Rose can't fully finish since she felt your warm tongue hitting her clit right as she finished her sentence.

You grab her by the hips and start making circular motions around her clit with your tongue, making Rose moan loudly for you. "AAahh Y/N, you were supposed to kiss it!" She moans, but you're not stopping.

You've made it your mission to show her how wrong she was about you. Your tongue briefly moves to her opening, getting it wet, before returning to her clit and your right index finger teasing her hole.

After teasing her hole, you slowly push in your index finger, making her squeal. As you look up, you can see that Rose has started to support her upper body with her hands and her head hanging back all the way as you continue to pleasure her.

"Oh god Y/N. P-Please add another one" Rose stutters in between her moans. Her wish being your command, you quickly pull out, lick your index and middle fingers until they're nice and wet, before slowly inserting them back into her pussy.

"A little further d-down, y-y-yeah a tiny bit lower" Rose guided you towards her g-spot. Hitting hit resulted in loud screams of pleasure from her. "AAAAHHH FUCK, RIGHT THERE Y/N!!".

You continued with the same pace and it didn't take long for Rose to get close to her orgasm. "Y/N.. Y/N I'm gonna cum, you're gonna make me cum Y/N. Oh my god, this feels so good." Rose's moans get louder and louder as she reaches her climax.

You can feel her legs shake as her upper body falls onto the ground, her arms not being able to support her anymore. You let her ride out the orgasm, removing your fingers, but gently licking her pussy.

"Oh my god that was good Y/N" Rose stammers, while she drags herself to her bed for support.

"Well.. I dare you to return the favor" you tell her with a massive smile on your face.

"Is it okay if I return the favor tomorrow morning?" Rose asks sheepishly, still shaking a little. "I don't think I have any energy left in me after what just happened."

"Sure, but I want a little extra for the delay" You answer with a smirk.

#blackpink #blackpink smut #blackpink x reader #blackpink imagines #rose x reader #rose x male reader #male reader #rose smut

474 notes · View notes

skzooe · 1 year

Note

Hi there!!! I've read your lipstick stain reaction and it was so cuteeee, I really loved it :))

Could you do another part with haruto, seunghwan, and zhang hao (and any one you'd like to add) please?

And if you don't want to do the same kind you could do it of you smothering them with kisses as well :))

Thanks in advance, I hope you have a nice day!!

lipstick stain trend,,🎀 p.2

BOYS PLANET

p.1 p.2 p.3

with; seunghwan, jiwoong, zhanghao, haruto, p.hanbin

[note to anon; thank you so much! this has made my night 💕 i hope you enjoy this one]

seunghwan;

so down bad for you

"do you wanna film this kiss-"

"yes"

soooo many compliments

"that colour looks really nice on you"

finds a way to rizz you up any opportunity he has

"it would look better if it was on my lips🤷‍♂️"

you sit on his lap with his hands immediately going to your waist, which made your heart skip a beat

when you start filming he cannot keep a straight face

you think he looks cute with kiss stains on his face so you decide to kiss him on the lips once

HE GETS SO EXCITED

BEGS for more

jiwoong;

RIZZLER NO.2

when you show him the video he's so unbothered about it

literally pats his lap signalling you to sit which makes you so AKJSFHJDFHK

"sit on my lap then"

when you start recording he just gazing at you with his "bedroom" eyes (ifyk)

stares at your lips up and down likee

the tiktok comments go so crazy over him

💬: WHAT IS HIS INSTA

💬: THIS MAN IS SO FINEEEE

which makes you hella jealous

however he does not give af and just finds it funny 💀

zhanghao;

would literally do anything for you so how could he say no

the sweetest & caring ever

he finds it cute when you're struggling to apply the lipstick so he does it for you

"do you need help? come here"

he holds your chin which gives you instant butterflies

fights the urge to kiss you bc he thinks you look so pretty 😕

cannot stop staring at your lips while filming

the comments find it so cute fr

💬: hes SO whipped for her

haruto;

he is on tiktok 24/7 so he defo knows about it

"i thought you would never ask😋"

is SO giggly

finds it ticklish so when you kiss him he starts laughing and throws you off the bed

the kiss stains get so smudged that he ends up looking like a tomato

you both forget about the tiktok because you spent all your time trying to wash it off 😭

p.hanbin;

absolutely LOVES the idea

however he takes it so seriously that you fight over what colour the lipstick should be 😭

"nonono, this one looks WAY better"

"nooo, this one suits you more"

turns into a compliment game??? (throwback to that hanbin vs woonggi battle💀)

"this colour makes me look prettier"

"you're pretty anyway"

"no you are"

"you're the most beautiful person i've ever met"

"no-"

he ends up crashing his lips onto yours before you could finish your sentence, leading to a makeout seshhhh

what tiktok????????

part 3 here

769 notes · View notes

not-your-fucking-kacchan · 2 years

Note

Aizawa x class 1-A reader when he finds out reader is also doing vigilante work? I’ve always wondered how he would feels about that

Icl I feel like he would understand tbh like he was probably doing the exact same thing before his career took off. He has a very strong moral standpoint so I figure he would place justice above legality but hes still a teacher and would have to disapprove but he wouldn't be like angry??

I feel like this was portrayed in the anime but it's been a hot minute since I've watched it - what do you think? :D

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 <3

Check out my kinktober!

𝐀𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜) - 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐒𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞

Dark circles decorate your eyes as you sit slouched at the desk before class starts. Sleep had eluded you as you spent the night with your parents, helping them feed into their warped, self-indulgent sense of justice by doing vigilante work.

Usually, you'd consider yourself to be at a strong, good moral standpoint, focused on doing good by the people rather than focusing on legality and logistics. But to be quite honest, this self-righteous act of "freeing the people" is starting to become exhausting. It's actually getting on your nerves, really.

You love your parents, but they can be very, exhaustingly eccentric at times, and sometimes outright smug. It's absolutely infuriating. It's so difficult to watch that it hurts, and the more you think about it, the more bitter you begin to feel.

Or maybe this is just the exhaustion talking. Who knows?

It feels like you're just sacrificing little pieces of yourself at this point, giving your body and soul to some 'vigilante work' and your training to persue your career as a hero.

Aizawa is the first to notice the change in your attitude. He is the first to realise that you may be burning out, and he's the first to genuinely worry about you.

As your teacher, and considering the amount of security hazards your class has been subject to in the last year, Aizawa is well within his right to keep tabs on all of you and your home lives. He knows your secret.

After class ends, you're pulled aside by your teacher.

Part of you wants to cry. What is it this time? A failed test? Maybe a lecture on missed homework.

Apparently not. And judging by the look on his face, it's much more serious than a missed assignment. He looks... genuinely concerned, which is an expression you've gotten to see far too many times than you should have to. Wow, you think. The poor guy deserves a break.

"I know what you've been doing every other night, so don't bother trying to lie. I want to say that I'm proud you're taking your hero work so seriously, but don't you think you're overdoing it? Maybe even just a little? You're exhausting yourself, and pretty soon you're going to burn out. Did you even sleep last night?"

Oh, like he can talk about sleep and burnout of all things.

And really, he can. But the brewing bitterness and hostility inside of you is starting to bubble, and you can feel in the back of your throat that a breakdown is imminent. God, don't cry. Please, not now, of all times.

Shiny, salty tears start to collect at your waterline, and the tired teacher lets out a defeated sigh, placing his hand on your shoulder. It's an oddly comforting gesture, really.

"I-... I just want to help... My parents will go out with or without me- and they're not very experienced- so I just worry that if I'm not there, something will happen..."

"Look... The first part of helping is knowing how to best help yourself. Look after yourself, or you might not live long enough to see yourself become the hero you've always wanted to be... Youre a hero, not a martyr - the self sacrifice isn't necessary yet."

Wise words from a man who's seen it all.

He looks disappointed in you, at the very least, but there's a spark of pride in his eye for his tryhard students who do the best they can, and even if you don't see it yet, you will soon enough.

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #mha #bnha #bnha fluff #bnha headcanons #mha fluff #aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #bnha aizawa #aizawa x you #aizawa x y/n #platonic aizawa x reader #aizawa x reader fluff #dadzawa

983 notes · View notes

threadsun · 8 months

Text

Anonymous Asks: "can we get the inverse of that "darling gives elias a blowjob while Taylor listens and gets off on it"? So like Elias is fingering the player character and Taylor is just floored with horniness by the noises he's listening to"

Taylor's really not sure how it happened. One moment he was listening to you chatting up a charming ghost, clenching his jaw. The next moment, the ghost was whispering filthy things in your ear and inviting you to his bed. Seriously, who knew a repressed Victorian guy would be able to say all that?

"F-fuck, Elias..." Your fingers dig lightly into his forearm as it wraps around your chest. Your hips move against his other hand, eager to feel his fingers reach deeper inside of you. "H-how are you so good at this?"

"I may not have much experience, my beloved, but I've spent many nights practicing for the day I would get to hold the person I love and pleasure them like this."

Elias' voice is warm, smooth. Taylor can hear it clearly through the phone. His face must be pressed right against your ear. The thought fills Taylor with conflicting feelings of jealousy and arousal. Hearing your soft whimpers and moans. The faint wet sound of his fingers stretching your hole. And that voice that frustrates him in too many ways.

"You're so soft, my beloved." Elias presses a warm kiss to your neck, fingers slowly easing in and out of you. "So warm and tight. I can already imagine how perfect you'll feel when I'm inside of you..."

Taylor wants to feel sick. But his cock twitches at the thought of feeling you too. If you're really as soft and warm and tight as Elias says... He's palming himself, he realises with a start. His hand freezes for just a moment before guiltily easing into it. Should he really be touching himself to the sound of you being fingered by another man? No. But really this whole night shouldn't have happened, so...

"Does that feel good, beloved?"

Taylor has to keep from whimpering at the deep, smooth voice of Elias. Talking in your ear like that, it almost sounds like he's talking directly to Taylor. His hand slips into his boxers, muting his end of the phone call and sighing in relief as he begins to stroke his cock.

Your back arches as Elias curls his fingers inside of you, rubbing at that spot that makes you see stars. His name leaves your lips in a gasp. Your nails dig into his arm and you almost apologise only to be cut off by an answering groan from him. You can feel his cock pressed against your back, hard and ready for you.

"Y-you can fuck me," you pant out. "If you'd like..."

Taylor closes his eyes, imagines you're talking to him. Imagines lowering you onto his cock. Thinks about you riding him in the front seat of his car. His hand squeezes his shaft, precum dripping from the tip as he imagines how tight and warm you would be around him.

"No, no beloved. Not yet." Elias soothes you with another kiss on the neck. "I want to make you cum for me first. I want to feel you tighten around my fingers, listen to you moan my name."

Why didn't he have a bottle of lube in his car? He wants nothing more than to sink his fingers into himself. To imagine it's Elias fingering him like that. He doesn't even have time to stop and process this new desire. He's too busy trying to imagine being sandwiched between the two of you.

"Elias~" You rock against his fingers, feeling him work a third into you slowly. "Fuck I f-feel so full..."

Are his fingers really that big? Fuck. Taylor strokes his cock faster, hand shaking at the thought of a ghost pinning him down and fingering him like that. At the thought of you squirming next to him, holding hands as he fingers you both. The two of you together, getting fucked by the ghost of Elias Gallagher.

"You look gorgeous like this," Elias' voice sends matching shivers down your and Taylor's spines. "Are you going to cum for me, beloved?"

"Yes, yes~" You grind against his fingers, holding onto him tighter.

"...yes..." Taylor's is more of a whine, soft under his breath.

"Good, you're so good for me." His hand picks up the pace, fingering you hard and fast. "Go on, cum for me. I want to watch you cum for me... You look so lovely like this. Cum for me~"

You cling onto Elias, body trembling as you cum for him. Your sweet, desperate moans drift through the ear piece, sounding heavenly as you orgasm. Taylor bucks his hips into his hands, crying out your name as he cums. Elias' name escapes him in a soft sigh as cum drips down his stomach, echoed by you as you collapse against the ghost.

"You did so well for me..."

#sunshine #the groom of gallagher mansion #elias gallagher #taylor potts #elias gallagher x reader x taylor potts #gn!reader #18+ only

249 notes · View notes

moonlight-prose · 4 months

Text

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I have spent several days drafting this post because there's so much I want to say. 2023 was filled with some big moments for me. I graduated college, met my friend group, went on night time adventures, and actually acted like my age for once. I was chaotic and fun and carefree for the first time since I turned 19. But things have also gone wrong in many ways.

Which is why I write this to you guys. The incredible people on this site. Whether you follow me, are my mutuals, or have seen my blog in passing (or in your notes), I want to wish you a Happy New Year.

While this year might have sucked for a majority of it, the light I found in this community - on this site - is unmatched. I have met some of my greatest friends here. I've cried to fics, lost my mind over characters, and written so much more than I actually expected. It's been a hell of a year and an absolute honor getting to thirst with y'all.

So here's to getting sluttier in 2024! I'm toasting my champagne glass to you guys.

I also wanted to simply shout out some very important people to me. They've made 2023 bearable and I couldn't have been happier to know them through this place. A big massive fucking THANK YOU to my darlings. You're the greatest people I know.

@soulores my queen, my babe, my bestie. it is hard to believe we didn't start officially talking till summer of this year, because i genuinely feel like we've known each other for years. from our sunday morning phone conversations, to our screaming in the dms about these fictional men, and movie days with you. i couldn't have asked for a better friend to meet this year. here's to many many more memories in 2024 (and to finally meeting in person!).

@themarcusmoreno what would be a dedication post without mentioning you! my love i am so so fucking happy we met two years ago. all because of pedro pascal. crazy to think i would have found such an incredible person who happened to love all the things i love! you're the greatest friend and i am so grateful for you. thank you for sticking with me.

@sunflowersteves vic the absolute bad bitch. THE PERSON YOU ARE. i am so so so so fucking happy you and i are still mutuals. after meeting through marvel of all things and then pedro and now top gun. there's so many memories with you i cherish. and i can't wait to make more. and a massive thank you for being such a cheerleader for my writing this year. you and ash have managed to keep me going even when times were tough.

@karasong my first EVER mutual on this site. it's so hard to think that if it weren't for you i wouldn't be writing on here. you followed me two years ago and i flipped out and the feeling hasn't changed one bit. i couldn't be happier you're in my life. from starting up the server with you, to yearning for obi-wan, life with you in it is so much better.

@softanon it would not be a proper dedication post if i did not add you babes. dia you are one of my favorite people to exist. you're effortlessly cool, have the best ideas, and i always feel so lucky that i met you. from our talks about the moon knight bois, to tommy miller, to yearning over din djarin, i have loved every single convo with you. they bring me so much joy. you are an incredible person and i am looking forward to SO MANY more convos about our favorite men!

@saradika to one of the greatest people to exist in this fandom i love love love you. your graphics and the love you show to everyone around is so incredible and bright. we seriously don't deserve you, but i am so happy you are here and that you exist. you've made 2024 brighter just by being here.

@tarrenterror25 the spookiest darling ever! when you showed up on the server it was such a good day! and you brought with you so much fun and joy that the server was never the same. i am sending you an infinite amount of love this new years and here's to more chaos with you in 2024!

to my darlings in the dilf nation server:

@arctvrvs thea babes you are iconic, lovely, and are one of the best people to exist. you made 2023 so much better just by being around to yearn over joel with you. i couldn't be happier to know you!

@fluffyprettykitty selene you are the coolest people who has the coolest fics! the love you share on fics is so incredible, it never ceases to bring a smile to my face. also you're just so awesome i couldn't have asked for a better person to join the server.

@rae-gar-targaryen my fanboy lover in crime. i'm sure i've said it countless times, but you are so cool and amazing and beautiful. you are a goddess in real life. the talent you have is so fucking incredible it haunts me. i love each and every one of your creations and i love you as well!

@mostly-megan you are an absolute sweetheart and even though we haven't talked much in 2023, i hope to have so many more conversations with you in the coming new year. sending you my love darling!

@agirllovespancakes iris you lovely human being. i remember when i was first posting hurt you would reblog the greatest comments. and it made me want to continue, because i looked forward to each one. and now that i know you love tommy too! you're so amazing and i dedicate a new years kiss to you.

@inklore you talented insanely incredible person! i could make a whole list of good things about you. i am sending you SO MUCH love for 2024. i hope it's amazing.

@outercrasis birdie my darling i want to tell you all the things that i cherish about you. from the love you showed on black velvet, to the way we screamed about bruce wayne and even frank castle, i live for our conversations. here's to so much more fun in 2024 and infinite convos about saltburn.

tagging those lovely humans who've made 2023 so incredible. please know i love you so much and i am kissing you when the clock strikes midnight. thank you for making this year so incredible!:

@stargazingcarol, @cregan-starks, @lady-of-glass-and-bone, @fushic0re, @targaryenvampireslayer, @pennyserenade, @flightlessangelwings, @stargirlfics, @goldgilzean, @kalllistos, @flordeamatista, @perotovar, @my-secret-shame, @roamwithahungryheart, @galatially, @eloquentmoon, @starryeyedstories, @oscarseyebrow, @iraot, @zinzinina, @thefact0rygirl, @iamskyereads, @navybrat817, @ifimayhaveaword, @the-godparticle

#happy new year my loves!#i am toasting to you tonight #here's to a sluttier and funnier 2024 #i am so sorry if i forgot anyone #i tried to find you all!#witch aunt talks✨

47 notes · View notes

wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

Note

SAMUEL SEO FLUFF >>>>>>

Honestly. Why are we all simping for this unhinged man? Present company included. He's an absolute menace to society but for some reason I just want him to be happy and at peace.

Samuel Seo x Reader: Spectacles

You hover in the store, trying on different pairs of glasses as a way to kill time.

Lucky for you, your vision remains 20/20. No matter how many times you were scolded to not sit too close to the television, stare at a screen too long, or read with proper lighting, you have avoided the need for specs.

Still, it's fun to accessorise.

An arm snakes its way round your waist while you admire your reflection. An outlandish and aggressively pink pair of frames rests on your face.

"Beautiful as ever," Samuel eyes follow your movement, "But I'm not sure you need those."

You feel your lips lift at the compliment as you return them to the stand, "How did it go?"

"Fine, still the same prescription. We can go grab some lunch now if you prefer?"

"Wait, hold on," You wander to a collection a few displays over. "I found some glasses that I think would really suit you!"

You hold out a particularly obnoxious pair, horn-rimmed and tortoise-shell. Samuel lets out a snort, and indulges you. He takes off his own stylish and sophisticated glasses and hands them over, his eyes flashing playfully.

As soon as he wears them, you can't help bursting out laughing. He inspects himself in the mirror and snickers too.

"I've worked my way up, just to have my reputation destroyed by these. I'm not sure anyone at work would or could take me seriously."

One after another, you hand him multiple styles. Each somehow more distasteful and objectionable than the last - round and owlish ones, excessively thick purple frames, another comically oversized that takes over half Samuel's face, aviators reminiscent of dodgy men from the 80's.

Between your giggling and his chuckling, the next 30 minutes passes by in a blur.

Upon returning back the final pair, you couldn't help but comment earnestly, "You're so handsome, Sammy. I think you actually could pull off any of these."

Samuel rewards you with a self-satisfied smile, "Come on Y/N, are we done here?"

"Hmm... What about contacts?"

"What about them?"

"Just at the weekend or whatever. Maybe it would be nice to actually see your eyes y'know," You hesitate slightly, "Without a barrier."

Without a barrier? All his life, Samuel had been building a wall around him. An impenetrable fortress. His glasses have become his shield to the world. And now you want him to start to break this down for you?

He reflects on the past 30 minutes of silliness, the days and nights and months and years spent with you. Both the deep, meaningful conversations and the light hearted banter. The secrets and hopes and dreams shared with promises to always remain loyal.

Maybe it would be nice, he agrees.

#dragged into my samuel era screaming and kicking and crying #lookism x reader #lookism hc #lookism headcanons #samuel seo #samuel seo x reader #big deal golden era #lookism fic #lookism fanfic #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #seo seongun #wannaeatramyeon

258 notes · View notes

btswrckd · 16 days

Text

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.”

-----------------------------------------------------------

“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.

------------------------------------------------------------

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.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

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?

--------------------------------------------------------------------

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.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

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

21 notes · View notes