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#Mafia x Coffee Shop AU
nobody-nexus · 5 months
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Ragapom but your own Mafia AU (you know what you hAVE DONE 🔫, loved the chapters)
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Nothing happened during their date they drank and made out and ti was fine <3
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theragathas · 4 months
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WELCOME TO THE RAGAVERSE!!
WE SPEND TOO MUCH TIME ON THIS BLOG, PLZ ASK OUR RAGATHAS ANYTHING (as long as it is not nsfw, question that is suggestive or sfw are fine)
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Amanda (From Mafia x Coffee Shop AU)
One has to be cold and brash in a job like hers, however that doesn't mean they can't be nice as well! Amanda's the type to switch from calm and collected and harsh and deadly at the drop of a hate. Who says hopeless romantics can't make it look like an accidental?
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Cleric!Ragatha (From Dungeons of Dragons AU)
As a follower of the god of justice Tyr, she knows the right path no matter what rules one has to break to give proper punishments for those who deserve it. But that doesn't mean she's the BEST at giving advice. Of course, when you're forced with necromancy powers, who would be?
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Ragavamp (From Supernatural AU)
She is THE most unhinged out of all of the Ragathas. This half abstracted vampire like variation of the ragdoll has a very inconsistent personality. She goes from conscious, to rambling, to cryptic, to even acting similar to Kinger. Although she tries to be presentable, her need for blood as to stop abstracting isn't exactly the most likable thing
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Sinful!Ragatha (From Sinful Circus AU)
One word to describe Sinful! is: Depressed wet dog. She's clumsy, accident prone, and easily harmed. She pretends that everything's fine but it's REALLY NOT FINE. It's actually really sad sometimes to see her just take the brunt of anything and everything that she endures, and there's a reason she has a satchel of needle and thread in a bag where ever she goes
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Swap!Ragatha (From Swap AU)
Chubby and mean, Swap is basically the Jax in the room. She constantly plays pranks, bullies, and torments anyone around her. She uses her looks to control the AI jester of her world so she could get away with all of it too. Having a bit of a surperiority complex, there's nothing she won't do just for any sort of reaction- inlcuding things that end with her getting harmed
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BlossomCloud (From Warriors Cat AU)
She was once a clan cat but now she live comfortably with her wife and her other friends in a human house, proud mother of six kits. She is one of the most friendly Ragatha, maybe a bit too much.
LC (From The Literal Circus AU)
An acrobatic and a trapeze artist in the circus, she is the Ragatha that worries a lot while pretending everything is fine. She is a great listener but she didn’t get paid enough for listening people’s trauma.
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Red (From Red Riding Hood AU)
Quiet huntress, Red with her trusty shotgun roamed the nearby forest. She was never the type to socialize, hence why she lived alone with her wolf.
Gluttony (From Circus of Hell AU)
One of the seven deadly sin but was surprisingly a people pleaser. Her nice attitude didn’t quite match up with her status, neither does her looks.
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Hades (From the Goddess AU)
Goddess of the underworld, despite being a god, she is quite close to morals. Hades is a calm and gentle goddess who loved her wife deeply.
Mafia (From Mafia x Pimp AU)
Mafia is a brutal and selfish person but she often mask it with sickly sweet words or tones as to not scare others away from her. She is the only one that haven’t get together with their AU’s Pomni.
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Agatha (From Country City Girl AU)
Farmer girl in the country side, butcher in the small village, she was a bit dense when it comes to love. Trying to court Pamela with a wheel of cheese…
Ragamaster(From Ragatha Ringmaster AU)
The ringmaster of her AU, she is a con-artist scamming others online. Never trust her words unless it had details. Ragamaster is much of a carefree AI that likes to sit back and see the chaos unfold while taking notes. Also she said she is the only one without a Pomni?
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AI!Ragatha [Cyber AU]
The only remaining AI of her line, AI Ragatha's entire existence is dangerous. Other AI Ragatha's had a habit of acting on their own an doing what they believe is best, which is why they were recalled and destroyed in the first place.
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Apocalypse!Ragatha [Apocalypse AU]
In a world where literally any day you could die and join the undead, Apocalypse Ragatha is here to keep everyone's head on their shoulders. A fierce leader who protects her crew of survivors. Howver one day she went mad when her precious Pomni was bitten, now strike with madness and denial Apocalypse Ragatha will do anything to bring her Pomni back.
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Giantess!Ragatha [Songbird AU]
A lone giantess on an island by herself. Giantess Ragatha has picked up quite the hobbies in order to keep herself busy, she just loves animals and talkin about her Pomni. (**Never ask her about her Pomni**)
Cyber AU, Songbird AU and Apocalypse AU belong @fenrirfoxxer
Warriors Cat AU, The Literal Circus AU, Red Riding Hood AU, The Circus of Hell, The Goddess AU, Mafia x Pimp AU Country City Girl AU and Ragatha Ringmaster AU belongs to @inkyprism
Mafia x Coffee Shop AU, Dungeon of Dragons AU, Supernatural AU, Sinful Circus AU and Swap AU belongs to @nobody-nexus
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rogerswifesblog · 10 months
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A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @jamneuromain here’s a little gift for you. I hope you’ll enjoy the first one shot of the little kinda series. It was supposed to be a one shot but I didn’t finish it on time so…now it’ll be a two/three chapter series! I hope you’re enjoying your birthday. I wish you the best. I won’t specify what exactly because everything what happens should be the best! Meet the best people, make the best memories and the best experiences!!!!
Between the bookshelves
My Masterlist
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A/N: it’s not beta read:) there’ll be mistakes, be prepared:)
Pairing: Mob Ari Levinson x bookshop/café owner reader
Series Summary: You’re a small-town-girl living in a big city, owning her own (somewhat successful) book- and coffee-shop, a dream you had been following for years. Some of the books are little works of your own, but nobody really knew it and nobody really read them, being just small stories between bestselling novels.
And yet there was a specific client that couldn’t put down your books.
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The Saturday mornings were mostly quiet and got a bit more busy in the noon, where people start waking up or curing their hangovers-for some reason you had noticed everyone liked doing it in your little coffee shop. The quiet atmosphere, smell of coffee, cake and books was calming for the people. It was just good for their headaches. Just some time to themselves. Just some…peace. That’s how you could describe your shop. Peaceful.
Most of the time they would buy a coffee, maybe a sandwich or something sweet and would sit for a while, sometimes with their headphones on, sometimes with their eyes closed or other times watching the people walk past the windows.
You enjoyed watching people.
The older people that came by because your place had an older aesthetic, the walls made from old brick stone, the shelves and tables dark wood, the couches, loveseats, armchairs and chairs all being rather vintage than modern. Always ordering the apple pie from your grandma’s recipe. Could they taste like it was an old recipe? Did it taste differently from the other pies?
You also liked watching the business people rolling their eyes during calls or while typing something on their laptops. It was really entertaining. You also always gave them a free muffin if they spilled their coffee on some (probably important) documents.
So to say, everyone liked coming here, for whatever reasons. Maybe to drink your coffee, maybe to have some peace or forget what was happening in their busy lives, instead wanting to escape in one of the books. In your cafe was everything possible, they could just drink their coffee and enjoy some snacks or disappear in a fantasy world with witches, mermaids and vampires or into a simple romance or thriller. Whatever they wanted.
And then there was him.
He came here to see you smile. To hear your voice. To get to know you.
But until now he never actually spoke to you. Not unless it was to tell you his order.
And that’s it.
Ari was the head of the mob and yet he got cold feet when it came to talking to a pretty girl.
Usually he had no problems with talking to women, even targets or other dealers but you ... .it's like he was his teenage self again (or even worse, because he actually wasn’t that nervous back then.)
He didn’t want to mess it up too soon, since you seemed like a very nice person and probably wouldn’t approve of his work. So he wanted to show you his best side-even though he didn’t know how long he’d be able to hide his true identity.
And more important, how long he’d manage to keep you safe. That was his biggest concern. That’s also why he didn’t know if he should approach you.
For now it was enough to sit in your café and watch you from afar. Like a total creep.
Ari sighed, hitting his forehead on the table with a quiet thud. What the hell was he doing? He was making a total fool of himself? He’d now go to the counter and ask for your number.
Determined he stood up and did as planned. “Hi, may I ask for-“ “Y/N, the muffins are ready!”, shouted someone from what he assumed was the kitchen. You smiled apologetically. “Give me a minute”, with that you disappeared for a moment, coming back with a plate filled with muffins.
A bright smile crept once again onto your lips when you saw the beautiful stranger still waiting at the counter. He was one of your regulars and yet you never catched his name. Nor anything else beside his usual order. “Another cappuccino?”, you saw him opening his mouth, before nodding. “Yeah, another cappuccino, thank you”, he smiled, brushing his hair behind his ear before taking out his card.
He definitely noticed the muffin decorated with heart sprinkles to his coffee, that he hadn’t ordered. Also, he got your name. This was more than he had actually expected.
And this muffin definitely meant something, right?
You watched him for a second from behind the counter, before needing to go clean up a table. You hoped he had seen the number written on the handkerchief.
He didn’t. He threw it away.
But you didn’t know that. You imagined he threw it away on purpose. Maybe he felt awkward? Or even uncomfortable? God, you have messed up. What if he’d never come back again?
Sighing you looked out of the window imagining the beautiful man talking to you about something different than just his usual order.
Two weeks. Two whole weeks Ari couldn’t go to your café and it made him crazy. Even though he didn’t know you, he missed your sweet smile. The słuchały oversized pink hoodie you liked wearing, especially when it was a bit colder, how you always wore your hair in a bun or ponytail, showing off your beautiful rosy cheeks. The way your eyes lightened up when you talked to him-he didn’t know if it was something that happened with every customer, but he liked imagining this sparkle was just for him.
Maybe it was.
Maybe it wasn’t.
But he hoped it was.
When the quiet bell sounded as he entered the café you lifted your head, having been caught up in messaging someone while there was some quiet time in the shop. There were only a few customers busy with eating and drinking, some others reading some books.
He walked up to the counter, opening his mouth to greet you, but his voice broke when he saw your slightly rosy cheeks, the soft smile on your lips. “Hello, the usual?”, you smiled at him, making him even more speechless so he just nodded.
For fucks sake what was happening to him. How the hell could you make him speechless with just a smile even though he was able to talk to twenty men with guns in hands and files longer than some restaurant menus.
Sighing, he walked to his usual table, hanging off his jacket over the chair before walking to the shelves, looking for a new book.
He found one about a complicated love story between a college student and her professor, from what he could read in the summary-but it wasn’t the plot that surprised him.
It was your picture.
You were the author.
Ari immediately took it and walked with it over to his table where he immediately started reading. He wasn’t really into romance stuff, but it was your book. It was a piece of you, in a way, and he wanted to know something about you. About the relationship you seek, the gestures that made your breath hitch and what made your heart flutter.
So he started reading.
Within a few pages he was already pulled into the story, completely losing himself in the story, interested in the problematic relationship the main characters had. Just when the main character was supposed to meet with her professor you walked up to his table with a coffee and muffin that he hadn’t ordered.
When he looked up at you and slightly closed the book you could see he was reading your book. Your cheeks turned a dark red color. Usually it wouldn’t matter who read your book but him-not him. He wasn’t supposed to know about the things you liked, about your desires and-about your sexual preferences! Jesus. Maybe he hadn’t read who the author was?
At this point you’d rather just go to bed and never leave it again. Like, really, never.
Sighing you walked back behind the counter, not noticing the lingering gaze on you.
Three hours later, Ari was still busy with the book. At this point the story was so addictive he couldn’t put it down. The main character was a total sweetheart and the professor-god what a dick he was. Such a liar. Even though he had already messed up once, he didn’t tell his lover he still had a wife. Okay, yes, they were divorcing soon but still-he should’ve told his girlfriend about it. It’s a detail you should mention. Preferably from the beginning and not letting the girlfriend find out because the wife walked into his apartment?? Jesus!
He scoffed at the book and wanted to turn the page when his phone rang. “Levinson”, he listened to his friend about having found out who had stolen guns and other weapons from him. Ari could tell his frown deepened with every second, the vein on his forehead already pulsing from anger. Fury, even. He tried to be a good man. Really. Holding back all the time-but having one of his men betray him…this was too much. It was-
“Do you want a refill?” Your sweet voice interrupted his racing thoughts, his nerves immediately calming down, the frown disappearing. Instead a smile reappeared on his lips. “I can’t. I have to go and get some …business stuff done”, he said, already standing up. It was the first time you two were so close to each other.
His Perfume smelled overpowering, but in a surprisingly good way. It made you crave this man even more than before. The smell was just heavenly. You couldn’t stop yourself from breathing it in deeply, nearly closing your eyes to enjoy it for a bit longer but instead you looked into Ari’s bright eyes. He was taller than you, bigger than you. He towered over you, but you didn’t feel threatened. You felt safe.
Fuck. Your crush was turning into something much worse.
Little did you know that’s exactly what Ari thought too.
It’s not really unusual for him being taller or bigger than someone, but with you it’s like something inside him awoke. The need to keep you close. Keep you safe. He knew how dangerous the world could be, especially for a woman like you. But he could take care of you.
He’d love to wrap his arms around you, bury his nose against your neck and inhale your sweet smell, feel your soft skin…
He had it bad. So, so bad.
A last smile crept onto his lips before he grabbed his jacket and walked over to the door, looking once again back at you meeting your gaze. You blushed at that, making Ari’s heart pound.
He’ll ask for your number. Next time when he’ll be here.
But he didn’t. The next time, two days later, he just drank his coffee and read the book. Ari was Never this curious about a book but yours was just…incredible. The love story, the whole plot. Unbelievable. And also…thinking you had such a…interesting view of sex made him curious if you’d do the things in real life, too.
Were you into the same things as the main character? Spanking? Dom and sub dynamics in real life? Being called a good girl? Fuck, he really tried not to think about these things at night. (He failed sometimes.)
“Would you like some apple pie?”, you sweet voice made him lift his head. “Oh, sure, how much-“ “no, no, that’s on the house…it’s a gift. From me.” Your gentle tone made his heart throb, while he nodded. “Thank you.”
While he watched you walk away he wasn’t sure what to do next. You were such a kind and sweet person. And he was…he wasn’t good. Far from that, actually. You two couldn’t be more different. While you were a gentle soul that gave away the food that was left after a shift to the homeless, he was capable of torturing people without blinking an eye. He was cruel, cold and furious.
He wasn’t good enough for you. He knew. And he knew he’d only make your life miserable and dangerous. Maybe he already did with spending so much time at your café. Your worlds were too far from each other for you to date. Or even be friends.
“Here you go-enjoy”, once again did your voice pull him out of his thoughts-and a gentle touch on his shoulder. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Fuck. It just slipped. From all the reading-he forgot. It was unbelievable how your whole being influenced his behavior, how you were able to make him forget about his whole being.
Just when he wanted to apologise a shy but bright smile formed on your lips, a slight blush slowly creeping over your cheeks. Without saying anything else you squeezed his shoulder for a second before stepping away from his table, being called over by an older couple.
Even though he really wanted to read more, his phone was getting blow up with messages about the recent thefts. They knew who caused them but not where he was hiding. The fact that it was one of his men still angried him, even more because nobody could find him.
But he needed the stolen things back. ASAP. Otherwise even he could get in trouble-which didn’t happen often.
He looked at the pie, smiling as he noticed the little heart you had drawn with whipped cream. The thought of not being able to have you made his heart crumble a little.
Why couldn’t he be just a simple man with a simple life?
Because he liked the luxurious life he had.
But maybe he could try the simple way of living for once?
Oh who was he lying to, everyone he knew would say he’d never have a standard live. He liked having an expensive car, the newest phone, eating out especially in nice restaurants or nice vacations somewhere far away.
He was curious about what you liked. Maybe he could invite you to his favourite restaurant? Seeing you in a elegant long dress, your beautiful neck exposed…maybe covered in some little hickeys, marks ... ..or maybe a simple and decent day collar. Just a neck with a little ring…only the people involved would understand-and maybe some people would even compliment your necklace, not knowing what it meant.
Ari’s whole chest tingled with need.
But he didn’t want to destroy your life by pulling into the mess he was in.
Sighing he took a little bite from the pie, immediately closing his eyes in pleasure. It tasted incredible. Perfect even.
He hadn't had such a good pie in a long time.
Ari ate the pie within a few minutes, not having enough time to eat in peace since his phone was ringing all the time.
Once again when he left he could feel your lingering gaze on his back.
Next time. He’d talk to you next time.
You promised the same thing to yourself…and your best employee-well, best friend, because she couldn’t handle listening to your venting about Ari anymore.
This time he couldn’t come to your café for over two weeks, since he was after Alex, the thief. And he didn’t have much time to relax. Especially not in your café, also he didn’t want to come closer in case someone was following him-which he believed was possible seeing what was happening.
But he really missed you, even though you hadn’t had a real conversation yet. It’s just…your smile could brighten his mood, it didn’t matter how bad the day was.
When he finally visited your place again the first thing he noticed was how your frown disappeared and how you leaned over the counter slightly. “Hello! Long time no see”, you grinned at him.
Ari chuckled at your enthusiasm, immediately feeling how your presence cheered him up. “Yeah I had a lot of stuff going on…it’s complicated. I’m just glad I can finally drink a coffee here…sit, enjoy the atmosphere here…it’s probably the only place where I feel like I can forget about the whole mess with-…you know, life”, he mumbled, shaking his head slowly.
When he took out his wallet your hand touched his and you slowly pushed it away. “It’s fine, this one's on me…maybe we could…sit a bit together? Talk?”, you smiled gently, seeing how the gears in the man’s head started doing their job.
“Sounds very nice, yes. I’d love to sit and talk a bit…”, he didn’t sound entirely sure about it, but you believed him anyway. Maybe he really had a bad day. “Perfect, then you can go sit down and I’ll be with you in a minute.”
After he did what said you started preparing the coffees and a piece of brownie for each. He’d definitely like it. At least you hoped he would.
“I’m pretty sure we never really introduced-I’m Y/N, nice to meet you”, when you finally sat down Ari turned his phone around so the screen wouldn’t be visible. You really hoped he wasn’t hiding a wife or kid. Or both? Let’s not be paranoid…but still…
Ari smiled at you, pushing his phone even further away. It’s not like you’d grab it and read his messages? This guy was a bit suspicious…but you knew not to judge a book by its cover. “I’m Ari, it’s nice to meet you. I wanted to talk to you for a while now…I couldn’t never really get myself to do it”, he chuckled, making you unintentionally but your lip a bit.
Did it mean he liked you just as much as you liked him?
“I’m glad. I was curious if we’d ever say more to each other than your usual order”, your words made him chuckle again and he shook his head a bit. “Yeah that…I don’t really like changes and besides, your coffee is really good. When I find a place I like, I don’t like changing things.” Ari took a sip from his coffee to prove his point-and once again the coffee was as good as always.
He noticed how seemingly pleased you were with this simple compliment. Wasn’t it obvious how good everything here was? Especially the barista…which he wouldn’t say out loud, but he’d think about it.
“What will happen to them? Will they have a Happy End?” Ari lifted the book he had once again taken from the shelf. One of your first pieces you had tried to write and actually finish. But you were still slightly insecure sometimes-especially when the person reading was someone you’d rather like to impress.
You shrugged slowly, a teasing smirk creeping over your lip. “I guess you’ll have to come here often and finish it yourself. I won’t spoil the ending for you. What’s the fun in reading it then?” Ari shook his head amused.
“I rather like knowing what’s coming, you know? To prepare myself for it, the same in real life-especially my business. It sucks to know that you’re being lied to”, he had no idea why he was telling you this but it felt good. It’s like his heart was speaking for him, even though his brain was screaming at him to shut up and preferably leave you alone.
But he listened to his heart, for once. He wanted to listen to his heart this one time.
You placed your hand over his, squeezing gently. “I understand. It must be hard having someone close betray you…if I may ask, what did he do? And where do you two work?”, you asked. Curiosity was never your best trait, but to your defence ari was the one speaking about it first. You had the right to ask…right?
Ari stilled for a second, looking down at his phone, then his coffee, hands, back at his phone and finally back at you. “It’s office work, but I can’t tell you much more about it”, you could tell he was lying right to your face.
Did you care about it? Did you see the red flags and decided to ignore them?
Nobody ever said you always made the right choices.
“I understand. Still sucks being lied too by someone important”, you squeeze his hand again.
At least he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Maybe this weird gut feeling was from nervousness and not…something else. He seemed like a nice and charming guy.
On the other hand…
So did Ted Bundy.
You quickly shook those thoughts away…for now.
To your surprise you two talked for nearly two hours, before the café started to be flooded by customers and you had to go back to work. Ari left you his number, telling you to call him when you’d need any help…or just to talk.
Happily you enjoyed the rest of the shift, already thinking about texting Ari later in the evening.
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Thank you for reading!
I Hope you liked it! Let me know! Support your content creators by reblogging and leaving feedback:)
Taglist: @magnificentsaladllama @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @lilsiz
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isadoresmuse · 1 year
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Obsidian Desires
Warning: The following fanfiction contains mature content and is intended for readers who are 18 years old or above. Reader discretion is advised.
Reader is only referred to as “you”/ Gender Neutral.
Word Count: 737
Yandere Mafia OC x (Gender Neutral) Reader
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, enveloping the cozy little café in a warm embrace. (Y/N), a talented barista, expertly worked behind the counter, effortlessly crafting the perfect cup of joe. The bustling city of Milan provided a constant hum in the background, the perfect symphony for (Y/N)'s daily routine.
Unbeknownst to them, an enigmatic figure had taken notice. Luca Salvatore, the charismatic and ruthless Italian Mafia boss, concealed his dark allure behind a well-tailored suit. His sapphire eyes were entranced by (Y/N)'s grace and the subtle charm that emanated from every movement.
Day after day, Luca found himself drawn to the café, watching (Y/N) from afar, his desires entwining with his dangerous nature. The flicker of passion ignited within him, transforming his love for them into something sinister—a manic grip on their heart.
On a particularly busy day, (Y/N) caught sight of Luca standing by the café entrance. Their eyes met briefly, an electric spark surging through their veins. Unbeknownst to (Y/N), this fleeting connection would ignite a blaze they were ill-prepared to face.
Luca approached the counter, his voice dripping with a mixture of authority and subtle seduction. "Cappuccino, please," he requested, his voice resonating with an air of dominance.
As (Y/N) prepared the beverage, their hands trembled slightly, sensing the intensity radiating from Luca. The exchange was brief, yet it left an indelible mark on both their hearts.
Days turned into weeks, and Luca's infatuation with (Y/N) grew exponentially. He couldn't bear the thought of another man touching them, let alone stealing their heart away. His mind became a canvas of possessive fantasies, dark and intoxicating.
Luca's sinister nature led him down a path of obsession, his dangerous tendencies entwined with his desires. He began to use his power and influence to ensure (Y/N)'s safety, pulling the strings from the shadows. He dispatched his most loyal underlings to protect the café and ensure that no harm would befall (Y/N).
One evening, as the café closed its doors, (Y/N) found themselves alone, surrounded by the silence of the space. They were unaware of the lingering presence outside, the sound of Luca's footsteps drawing closer.
With a sudden gust of wind, Luca appeared in the doorway, his eyes burning with a mixture of urgency and danger. The air thickened with unspoken desire as he approached (Y/N), a predator closing in on its prey.
"(Y/N)," he whispered huskily, his voice a velvet caress against their ear. "You're mine."
Before (Y/N) could react, Luca's lips captured theirs in a consuming kiss, a passionate union of two souls tethered by fate (or was it something more disturbing that chained their lives together). The taste of coffee mingled with the hint of danger, igniting a fire within them that they couldn't resist.
Luca's world and (Y/N)'s merged in a tempestuous whirlwind of passion and danger. Love, lust, and violence became intertwined, their desires intertwined in a dance that knew no boundaries.
The café became their sanctuary, a place where (Y/N) could embrace Luca's dangerous world while still retaining their independence. Under the guise of serving coffee, (Y/N) discovered the darkest depths of love, reveling in the adrenaline that coursed through their veins each time Luca entered the homely bistro.
Yet, the sun grew hotter the closer they got and eventually started to burn; the whispers of reality grew louder. The fine line between love and possession blurred, leaving (Y/N) torn between their desire for freedom and the allure of Luca's vicious embrace. Icarus plummeted into the unkind waters below.
Luca and (Y/N) existed in a world of secrecy and sin, bound together by an unyielding passion and the ever-present danger of Luca's underworld. Their love, tainted with obsession, proved to be a volatile concoction, threatening to consume them both.
In the depths of the night, as (Y/N) lay tangled in Luca's arms, they couldn't help but wonder if their souls would forever be shackled by the intoxicating grip of their lover shrouded in crime.
And so, their journey continued, a dance of dominance and submission, fueled by their undeniable connection. Only time would reveal if their love could withstand the tempestuous storms that lay ahead, or if it would succumb to the sinister desires that lurked in the shadows of their hearts.
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twstbookclub · 11 months
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Lovers in the Night
Summary: two lovers of different worlds. One of peace, one of danger, but the love is still there. Comforting one another turns into a sad promise. POV: 2nd POV Pronouns: Gender Neutral Admin/Writer: Kai⚔️ Tags: Jade Leech, Mafia Jade, fluff turned slightly angst, romance, already developed relationship Word Count: 978
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Jade cautiously walked around. He remained vigilant with a calm smile on his face as he walked through town. His eyes would dart towards anything suspicious or any sudden sounds, until he reached a certain shop. It seemed that it only opened in the middle of the night.
He held an umbrella over his head and, to the few passing strangers, all they could see was that calm demeanor he carried. The night was filled with the sounds of sprinkling rain splashing on the ground or the windows in the streets. He was heading somewhere, and the only thing passersby could think was to get out of his way. To those that recognized him, on the other hand, froze and quickly stepped aside without looking directly into his eyes.
A bell rang as he opened the door to the shop. The strong aroma of coffee and the sounds of grinded coffee beans dripping into empty cups greeted him.
"Jade! You're here…" 
A voice so sweet to his ears caught his attention. At that moment, his head turned towards its direction. That voice came from you, and it warmed that calm, chilling smile into a genuine one.
Jade sat down at his normal spot, a stool at the front counter, and a cup of coffee was sitting right in front of him faster than he could blink. He looked up to meet the only pair of eyes that could help him relax. These eyes that changed his calm demeanor so easily, they belonged to you.
You smiled at him, and you felt your face get hotter when your eyes met. He gave a silent nod before taking a sip from the ceramic mug. He hummed in content as his eyes closed, and that noise gave you a hint of satisfaction to your work—just like it always did.
“Your coffee doesn't change at all, does it?” Jade asked after a few more moments of silence. You were cleaning the used utensils, and his sudden question made you jump a little from surprise.
“Well, how could I change it?” You responded after a few seconds of ppndering over his words. You continued to clean the dishes, and Jade only responded with a laugh. After what felt like forever, a clink was heard, then the scrapes of a moving chair reached your ears.
Once you turned around, your body was met with a firm grip around your waist, and Jade held your head against him. The atmosphere suddenly became solemn and tense. It was as if he was trying to protect the moment that was being shared in this small bubble that you considered your shop.
You were confused at first, then your mind suddenly understood what he was trying to portray with such a gesture. You hugged him in return and simply smiled at the warmth of his embrace.
You remained quiet for a while, and you just let him give you his silent affection. If you tried to pull back from his embrace, his arms and hands only pulled you tighter against him. These actions could only make you smile more, and a small laugh escaped your lips every time.
Your laugh made Jade smile, and he let out a quiet breath of relaxation.
“What’s with all this?” You asked him, and he instantly shook his head. He slowly pulled away a little to take a look at your face.
Shortly after, you felt his lips against yours in a gentle kiss. His hold on you became protective again, and your heart that was warm from the gesture slowly filled with dread. A few moments passed by, then you pulled back with a caring smile.
“Nothing at all? Jade Leech, I know you. Is it… your job?” You asked again as you looked into his eyes. Instantly, his expression, once filled with love for you, turned to one of seriousness mixed with defeat at how you figured him out.
You sighed softly at his reaction and looked away from his eyes. You began to feel worry, and anxiety rose within you. That ominous dread was becoming overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but become visibly frustrated.
You knew what Jade did for a living. He was the underboss of the country’s biggest mafia. This came with him being busy and gone for weeks, sometimes months, on end. He would come to this cafe to see you. Although, most of the time, seeing him consisted of treating his wounds for him. You didn’t like it, but he promised you that he'll always be safe.
Jade noticed your reaction and gently took your chin in between his fingers, making you look at him with a bittersweet expression.
“Hey, you know that no matter the case, I will protect you. I promise. Even if it is the last thing I do—”
“Don’t say that.” You interrupted him. A sigh left you as you tried to gather your words. “I don’t want to hear anything that has something to do with ‘last’ coming out of your mouth. We talked about this. You know that I don’t like it.”
Jade sighed in defeat and nodded slowly, “Right. Then, let’s just enjoy the time we have. Why don’t we?” He was gentle again, and he started to relax before he hugged you again. You let out a breath, hugging him in return, and relaxing against his body.
As the night continued, the rain grew stronger and so did the feelings you had for one another. You didn’t let him go as your arms grew tighter around him. Jade placed a few kisses on your head to bring you some comfort. A stranger could tell that the feelings of a strong love were shared, and it was only natural. I mean… no one knew if, one day, the lovers would be lost to the dark of the night.
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hood-ex · 1 month
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oooo what mafia au or mafia stories prompted the post??
I've read quiiite a lot of mafia boss fics throughout the years that contributed to such thoughts lolol buuut my thoughts were triggered today by a flower shop/mafia boss fic. It's an Ateez fic. I don't remember if you're into kpop or not, so not sure you'd have interest in it, but I'll send it to you if you are.
Honestly don't think I've ever read a mafia boss fic with Dick. Maybe a crime family fic with him and a few of the other bats. That was a longgg time ago though, don't even remember the story. I never really seek out fics where the bats are on the opposite side of the law, but if I happen to stumble across them, I'll take a look and see if they interest me.
No but in another fandom there was a mafia boss fic where the antagonist chopped off the SO's finger and sent it to the mafia boss in a box, and that's the type of shit that makes those fics so good.
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keikoyume · 2 years
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Hey there! Bee again! Coffee husbands ficlet is going well :) If it's alright, I wanted to know what all your ships/pairings are when it comes to little nightmares. I'm a person who lives exploring dynamics, and I'm really interested to see what you personally enjoy or don't enjoy. Thanks!
–Bee :)
Heyooooo thanks for your question!
Except DoctorxHunter, I don’t have a lot of different relationships repeating themselves among my AUs
But here are my lists!
I’d say:
For my ‘Regular AU’ which is trying to stick to the game’s canon, I’m slowly making the ‘DocxHunter’ less present for canon reason, it’s still implied but from now on, if I had to draw/write big romances between Doc and Hunter, I’ll try to make that in other AUs for avoiding being too ‘out of characters’.
Aside this ship, I like to think the relation between Roger and the first chef is serious and canon, thanks to the LN twitter account xD
For the Disaster Family AU, DxH is implied but not fully developed.
There’s no shipping between them in the Caterpidoc AU for obvious reasons: Doc is genuinely a threat and Hunter hates him. But I’d say Hunter has some kind of a crush on the Ferryman (it’s not mutual).
Mafia AU is not a serious story, I think I just use that for projecting myself on Hunter just for simping over Doc xD
And for the Coffee Shop AU…
Instead of words, here a graphic
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That’s a lot of drama and love here.
For the ship I don’t enjoy:
I’d just say I don’t like the ship between Six and Mono because it sounds too ‘obvious’ or cliché, I just prefer imagining they are best friends who are doing their best for surviving in a really creepy world! Having children facing big monsters together is a story trope I really love and adding romance in that just feels out of place or just cliché to me.
For the most famous ship which is Thin ManxLady:
I’d say I have difficulties for understanding this shipping since none of the characters are really linked (I consider Six being different from the Lady) BUT as someone who ships Doc and Hunter LOL, I don’t have the right to say anything xDD Also, the fandom managed to create funny dynamics between them so I find the content enjoyable!
hErE
Thank you for reading my rambling post this far!
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kidsomeday · 1 year
Link
A Coffee Shop/Mafia AU originally plotted for Day 5 of Vashwood Week. Both life and this story got away from me. A sequel to my Day 2 Vashwood Week fic, Never Hold Back on Matters of the Heart.
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kingzombear · 4 months
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Okay so like I have no clue if you take requests or not, but if you do, maybe you could do my designs for my Mafia x Coffee Shop AU?
If not, I completely understand ^^ I'm nervous as hell typing this but I'll still ask nonetheless
She's abt to quit her WHOLE JOB to become a sugar baby for a redhead woman and SO WOULD I 😤
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I fuckin' love when people DBZ fusion AUs, ur brain is HUGE DAWG, I hope u like it🤘💖
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AU Masterpost
List of AUs
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Bodyguard Dialogue Prompts
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How to create an atmosphere: Library
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Road to fame ideas
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How to create an atmosphere: Coffee Shop
Flower Shop AU
Flower Shop AUs
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Magical Creatures Part I
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Werewolf Prompts Part I
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nobody-nexus · 3 months
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Thank You For Over 700 Followers!
Thanks to the poll, I've drawn up a DTIYS of a bunch of my AU's Pomnis drinking at a bar because why not?
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By the way, if you want to add your own AU Pomni into this, go for it! I want people to have fun with this after all ^^
For organization purposes, there will be a tag for this dtiys specifically! It's the 'dtiyspomniverse'. So if you don't feel like tagging me, just use that tag instead
Have a nice day, and yet again thank you ALL for over 700 followers! I hope to give you more art in the future ^^
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theragathas · 4 months
Text
Ragamaster: HERE’S THE HOOP OF GAY
Ragamaster: IF YOU GET PASS THE HOOP, YOURE GAY
Ragamaster: LOOKS LIKE YOURE GAY SWAP
Ragamaster: LOOKS LIKE YOURE GAY RAGAVAMP
Ragamaster: WELL UHH SINFUL IS ALREADY GAY
Ragamaster: AND YOU GAY TOO LC
Ragamaster: AND AI YOURE ALRIGHT F$&€ WEIRD ANYHOW IT DOESNT MATTER
Ragamaster: THATS A ULTRA GAY!!! LOOK AT ALL THE GAY POINTS YOU ARE CRACKING UP AGATHA
Ragamaster: HAH GAAAAY, AMANDA
Amanda: well guess I’m Polina now
Giantess: I’d like to got through the hoop of gay
Ragamaster: DO YOU GIANTESS? BAD NEW YOU CANT
Ragamaster: …
Ragamaster: TRY F$&€%]¥ TRY CMON B%{*#
@nobody-nexus @fenrirfoxxer
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hollyhomburg · 4 months
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Before I Leave You (Pt.65)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: The truth always comes out one way or another, and with Jimin temporarily whisked away for surgery- it's up to you and yoongi to answer Namjoon's questions.
Tags: Angst, blood, guns, murder, discussions of morality, descriptions of dead bodies, discussion of past spousal abuse, confessions, hurt/comfort, sickfic, hospitals, reconciliation, vmin focus, Trans! tae, Everybody lives nobody dies,
W/c: 15.0k
A/N: this chapter is a bit heavy on the dialogue but! sorry that this chapter came out when it did, we're finally here! sorry for the break in chapters- I got some not great news about a family members health and wanted to spend some extra time with them over the holidays.
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
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The abandoned industrial building rises without warning from the mist and fog. You could almost call in lonely. Although it has its comfort in its stillness, the same way that monsters that do not move do not instill fear. A foe vanquished but not forgotten.
The body. The dust. The puddle of blood by the door is more than enough evidence for plausible deniability. The faint splatter of it here and there like confetti left after a parade, or flower petals that fall in spring and pile up like snow.
Moonbyul stands in the doorway, like a pagan in a house of God. Out of place and out of mind. Dark coat unblemished by dust or blood. She doesn’t stoop to touch the ground or try and clean up the evidence from Jimin and Jin’s misbegotten hours here. She doesn’t think Hobi’s name, although she knows it.
God does she know it.
She’s poured over all the files that her men have collected about your pack for weeks now. Searching out weaknesses like a snake searches rabbit holes for soft fur and an easy meal. She’d spent the most time lingering over Tae’s file. The photos that shift from short hair to long, lipstick that she finds too pink and distasteful.
Red is better color.
She'd spent a long time pouring over Jin’s too because she’d needed to. Jimin and her cousins had been glossed over. She already knows enough about them to last a lifetime.
But only one file had given her paper cuts. Revenge on paper is not as sweet as it should be.
She doesn’t need to read that file anymore. Although she hears the words that the youth said so many months ago on repeat, you and Hobi in the coffee shop caught only on security camera. “I think I heard something I shouldn’t have”. As well as the ones that followed.
Contrary to popular belief, Moonbyul doesn’t like killing. She views it only as a necessity. She looks at the blood on the floor without any disgust. It’s been a long time since she’s cleaned up any alpha's mess, and she’s not going to start now.
She looks down at the blood and smiles. It’s a rare thing- seeing her smile. It’s different from her grin that bares her teeth. Sharped incisors changed and honed just before she’d been appointed the head of the moon family.
She remembers her mother's words when she’d looked at them in the mirror for the first time, She remembers that she could still taste the file they'd used to carve them. Metallic, like blood on her tongue.
“All the most dangerous alphas have fangs; you’ll need to learn to use them if you want to fill your father’s shoes.”
Familial death is more of a rite of passage than a time for mourning in the family. A time when power shifts and secrets get covered up or aired out. Like the moon waxing and waning.
Moonbyul hadn’t been born with fangs, the way alphas always are. Moonbyul hadn’t been born with a lot of things.
A smiling Moonbyul is either a happy or a bloodthirsty one. And a happy Moonbyul, when properly stroked- means they get privileges.
Privileges in their pack, amount to small little things most of the time. A night where they don’t have to take the heat inducers. A night where they can wear comfy sweats instead of the lingerie and stifling silk. But if they're extra sweet and good they get better things. A free evening where they can see their families as long as they come home before sunrise.
“Do you think he’s dead?” Solar is dressed as her clone today, with stockings pulled up her milky thighs flashing beneath the long hem. Extra extra cute in the way that she loops her arm into Moonbyuls and pouts. as if she's upset that her alpha is paying more attention to the murder than her.
She still smells faintly of sex, moonbyul, and her own ginger scent. Not like fresh cut- the kind that baked goods have around Christmas time.
Moonbyul smiles, rapping her long nails against where Solar's arm is curled around hers clinging to her as if her life depends on it. It does- Moonbyul and her both know it does. But Solar has always been a good pet. She’s never needed quite as much correction as Wheein who likes to know exactly where her cage ends and begins, or like Hyejin- who needs nearly as much combatting and careful maneuvering as their enemies.
She'd learned from Hyejin. Had never let the others have quite as much freedom or get used to challenging her. There's a reason why Hyejin had demanded to wear her mating mark and why Moonbyul had let her have it.
Omega's however sweet and however docile, still need a cage. Moonbyul's only ever tried to branch out of her tastes once, and she won't ever do it again. Disastrous as alphas are. They make piss-poor lovers and disobedient needy pets.
She sighs. Alphas and their messes.
In truth, the pack could use someone truly obedient, someone for whom being good is as easy as breathing to balance them out. The pack could use a good pup. The pack could use you.
Moonbyul burns in want, stewing in it ravenous. It’s not love, it’s not even really lust either. She’s never been an easily sated person. She’s always wanted too much, always finished the whole pint of ice cream in one sitting. She’s always wanted everything.
That’s why she’s smiling, because she’s about to get it.
She stands a little straighter, holding out her palm. “Why don’t we go see.” Moonbyul doesn’t turn to leave, however. She doesn't walk towards the body dumped at the back of the building, still bearing Jin's fingerprints. A single strand of hair would do it. She doesn’t make any move other than to reach into her pocket and take out a lighter.
She thinks of the family's assassins; The Bee, The Spider and The Wolf. She thinks of Park Jimin. The snake. Hopefully either dead or in the process of dying.
The body in the back of the building is another one of hers. She never thought that this would be the end of the Wolf, he'd always been one of their most reliable killers. Always showed up on time too, an exemplary employee. Not to be easily duped. She'll have to figure this out and pin down What did him in. But that will take time and energy, only one of which she has.
He was only supposed to wait in the wings and ensure that neither Park Jimin nor Kim Seokjin left this building alive, nothing more.
Sometimes things are just coincidences, sometimes if you're lucky- they're just bad luck.
This doesn't feel like bad luck, this feels like revenge.
Solar makes a noise in her throat, a questioning chirp. She really is trying to be her cutest right now. Moonbyul won’t reward her in a way that she likes, a way that she wants. Even songbirds still feel the itch to fly. Clipped wings and all.
She looks at the flame, sparking.
“Why won’t you just leave the evidence? Wouldn’t that be easier?” Solar is not as good as Hyejin at handling this sort of thing, not as experienced. But she’s currently handling other more important things. Things that need her finer touch.
Solar doesn’t understand why Moonbyuls going to light this place up like a fucking Christmas tree and do Seokjin’s dirty work for him. Solar is only a pup, and she’s been kept like that because Moonbyul likes pupish omegas.
She likes the innocence and obedience that people who weren't made for this kind of life have. So eager to please that they're willing to debase their souls. There is no greater sacrifice, no greater sign of love than someone willing to do anything for you.
This also happens to be why she likes you. Why she will have you. because neither Solar nor Wheein have ever been as good at this as you were. The perfect medium between sinful and pious. Cute even while killing.
And 5 is a prettier number than 4. 3 pups for her and Hyejin is a prettier number than 2. They need more than one for each.
Just one more pup, and then their collection will be complete. It took them so long to find the right one, so much trial and error. (Moonbyul despises errors. She's going to try and kill one before this is through)
She won’t let you slip through their grasp, not a second time. You should have never been Yoongi's.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to leave this as evidence? So that the FBI gets them all? We could just like- buy them off if they wanted to take her too-”
“Oh pup” she croons, half gentle. Flicking the lighter and letting it burn in front of her face before she tosses it The soil is so soaked through with gasoline that it lights as easily as a candle, slowly spreading from wall to wall and then- in the doorway, until the heat is too much and they have to move away.
“That wouldn’t be any fun now, would it?”
~-~
(Now, Namjoon)
Namjoon’s shirt is soaked so thoroughly with blood that it makes him cold. The hospital always feels cold, goosebumps rise like a mini mountain ranges on his arms. The hair pressed down where the blood has dried.
It’s not his first time covered in blood, but this time feels different.
He’s shivering, teeth clattering. His hands shake almost too bad to fill out the intake paperwork because he’d rather do it now than later. Park Jimin (registered, Kim) Alpha, weight 165 lbs (give or take a few). Blood type AB. No medications. No known allergies, no known prior conditions. No no no.
No.
Namjoon’s hands shake. He leaves Jimin’s ‘occupation’ blank.
Yoongi sits a few paces back, staring vacantly off into space. On the surface Namjoon would assume that he’s having no reaction and is feeling absolutely heartless about everything that's happened in the last 3 hours. But his breath becomes stuttered every few minutes, like he has to manually force himself to inhale and exhale. Like it’s taking all of Yoongi’s faculties to keep himself breathing and upright and not in a heap on the floor having a mental breakdown.
He kind of wishes Yoongi was crying and screaming instead. Then at least- Namjoon would feel like he had to be the strong one.
He can't get the feeling of stabbing Jimin out of his head, or the sound it it, the wet squelch of knife hitting skin.
Namjoon has cut into people thousands if not hundreds of thousands of times by now. But he’s only cut into someone he loves once, and god Namjoon never wants to do it again- won’t ever be able to touch warm prone flesh and hurt it, not after Minnie. Never again.
The pen in his hand weighs a million pounds. He contemplates asking for a piece of paper and writing out his resignation letter. he breathes in for 5 and out for 9, then sets it down on the clipboard and slides it across the counter for the nurse to take. Namjoon doesn’t hear her quiet tone asking him if he's alright and if there's anything she can do. just shakes his head on instinct.
There is a gaggle of nurses looking around the corner peering at Dr. Kim.
"Do you think he dresses like that outside of work hours?" "I never thought I'd be so attracted to jeans and a tee-shirt." Giggling in quiet voices.
It feels so strange, to hear people laughing while Jimin is dying. Namjoon almost wants to go bite their heads off and report them for poor bedside manner to the hospital manager.
This is Namjoon’s hospital. But Namjoon can’t find it in himself to smile or say thank you to the nurse when she tells him that the second she gets any news on Jimin, he'll be the first to know. He can’t say anything through the mountain of emotion in his throat.
If Namjoon’s love is a mountain, then his anguish is a river threatening to drown him. Yoongi smells like it- the line where water turns clear to brackish, Yoongi’s miserable scent has always smelled like the churning sea and now something that feels an awful lot like seasickness makes Namjoon sway on his feet.
Since he’s done with the paperwork, he promptly returns to Yoongi’s side and sits down. Only once he's sure he's stationary, does he pull a nearby wastebasket over between his knees to upend the contents of his stomach. It hits the top of old gauze pads crumpled up at the bottom and smelling like piss with a surprisingly violent sound, drawing the gaze of more than one person in the waiting room. At least it finally quiets the giggles.
Yoongi’s hand finds Namjoon’s knee, the hole in his jeans, The back of his ribs, stroking once twice. steady and hard the way that Namjoon likes. And Namjoon wishes he could snap at Yoongi. Wishes he didn’t curl into the touch. Wishes he was angrier. Wishes Jimin was perfectly alive and breathing and not going to-
Yoongi’s hand settles on the back of Namjoon’s neck, his throat, pulse hammering, thudding.
They’re just kids and Yoongi's hands are calloused. They've always been.
Deep down Namjoon still feels like he’s only 8 years old. Is just a kid and just starting to understand that the world isn’t all just papercuts and skinned knees; that it means something when people hurt. That it means something when you tell them you won’t let them hurt anymore.
He remembers promising Jimin something similar- a long time ago, the summer they all first met:
Namjoon remembers Jimin, standing in the apartment that wasn't theirs yet, after a movie night, the first movie night that the pack had ever had togeather (not totally togeather, becuase you and hobi hadn't been there yet but still).
It was the first time Namjoon had ever seen Jimin in something other than a designer sweater, sweats and a tee-shirt so ordinary that Namjoon was surprised it didn't make him look less intimidating. standing in the doorway waiting for Namjoon to notice him and look up from his medical journal.
"Yes Minnie? Did you need something?" jimin had shifted from foot to foot. looking up at jimin, a first slice of vulnerability in his eyes.
"Tae and Jungkook, they've got a bit of pain in them. I want to know what you intend to do with it." namjoon set his glasses to the side, the papers rustling as he forgets his reason.
"Make it better hopefully?" Namjoon had been struck with how oddly intense he'd been. Jimin had opened up with time and had gone sweet and trusting with the right amount of love. But he'd looked intimidating in his dark clothes and the wrinkle between his eyes like he was used to furrowing his eyebrows. A cute detail that Namjoon already wants to brush away. To touch. to cradle. To love.
He'll catalogue all of Park Jimin's cutest things in time. He'll treat love as a scavenger hunt, to find the softness in someone who tries so outwardly to be gruff and strong.
Namjoon's stained sleep clothes and promises felt all the more shabby in comparison.
"I need you to promise."
Namjoon had avoided it. Unwilling to meet his words with the same intensity. Jimin doesn't take chances with Jungkook and Tae. Tae's low laugh from the other room, Yoongi's matching grumble, overly fond already. Overly fond from the beginning.
"What about you? Doesn't everyone have pain?"
"Just promise."
"I promise to look after the three of you." Jimin had scoffed. Puffing up like a bird with too many feathers.
"I don't need looking after. Just them- when I go away for work."
"I know, but let me do it anyway." Smiling at the pretty alpha was so easy, so easy with the sounds of Jungkook and Jin's giggles in the other room. Laughter building itself into the walls around them.
"I promise not to hurt you or them. You have my word."
Namjoon lied, Namjoon lied back then and he didn't even know it. He upends his stomach again and Yoongi rubs down his spine.
“He’s not going to die Joon, he’s going to be fine.” Namjoon continues to empty his stomach, it’s pizza mostly, a bit of coffee, and a half-digested protein bar from this morning as well.
“Does hurting the people you love ever get easier?” Namjoon asks. Honesty, not anger in his tone.
Yoongi’s hair has gotten longer and hangs in his eyes. Yoongi never grew his hair out before you, always kept it in that short black sort of coconutty style. It makes him look older and all the more beautiful. Namjoon wonders if that’s why you like it; How regal it makes your mate look.
Yoongi has asked so much of Namjoon in the last few years, from leaving to coming back and bringing you. To hiding the mating mark and now this. Namjoon tells himself he should care more about Yoongi's lies and less about the fact that he just lied, period.
“No,” Yoongi grimaces. He always gets so quiet when things are bad, steady in that consistent way. He still hasn't stopped stroking Namjoon's back. Namjoon knows this is simply all Yoongi knows how to do, his first instinct is to love and not much else. “It was never easy.”
It’s not weird that they re-hash this now. Every time Namjoon learns more about how and why Yoongi left, he understands it more.
“I threw up too, just so you know- when I left, leaving you made me so sick that I hurled the second I got on that train. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” He blinks back wetness in his eyes, “I don't remember if I've ever told you that."
Namjoon nods. He can't remember right now either.
It’s been an hour or so now since Yoongi drove fast but steady steady steady to the hospital. Namjoon in the back while he stabilized Jimin in much the same fashion that you'd done earlier. The rest of the pack should be here soon. The three of you only lingered behind to clean up a bit and change your clothes, covered with blood and muck and who knows what else.
Yoongi sits like a statue and Namjoon can’t even look at him, can’t ask any questions or even start because he already feels like he’s yelling, and Namjoon hates yelling. This isn't isn’t exactly the most private venue for secrets that could land Jimin in jail.
Namjoon's still not entirely convinced that stabbing him was worth it. Namjoon’s brain is dizzy with terror. He’s still dizzy when he turns and sees you walking through the front doors to his hospital, Jin and Hobi trailing behind you.
He remembers the way you’d looked the day they’d gotten you checked out for the first time; how you’d run and pressed your face to his chest and buried your face there like just the sound of Namjoon's heart could make every demon and monster go away. For a moment, Namjoon thinks you might do the same thing. But your steps are measured, slow, and purposeful.
Namjoons eyes train on you, following you as you walk,
Yoongi stands, leaving Namjoon sitting with a cooling pail of vomit between his legs. he says something to you, to jin, but you don't pause, continuing until you're standing in front of him.
You don't say anything to him, just peer into the bucket and make a disgusted face down at it. Namjoon's teeth feel too sharp in his mouth with such a tense jaw.
Hoseok is on the phone, face gaunt and tired-looking. He must have drawn the short end of the stick and has the job of calling Jungkook and Tae and telling them what happened. They really shouldn’t drive themselves, but all Namjoon can reasonably do is restrain himself from cornering you and Jin and start demanding answers. 
He barely even turns to Jin when the omega goes up to the desk and asks if they can have a room, please. A private place for the pack to nurse their worries and not crowd the already-packed waiting room. Namjoon couldn’t name the nurse by name right now if he wanted to but he’s well known here and well-liked too. They give them one of the adjacent exam rooms to wait- Jimin’s surgery will take a few hours more, and there isn’t anything to do but wait.
Terrible terrible waiting, terrible terrible time. (You get a bucket when you want a drop and a drop when you want a deluge. Time only comes in two increments; too much or not enough.)
You drop a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder without a word. After some beckoning Namjoon follows you into the room. Legs shaking and sluggish at first. The pack is quiet even as the door closes. 
But once Namjoon's moving it’s hard to stop, careening like a comet or a bullet in your direction. Staggering.
You’d taken precious seconds to change your blood stained clothes before following Namjoon. You all pulled on the first things you could get your hands on. Which is how you’ve ended up in your mate’s shirt and Jungkook’s jacket, and how Hoseok’s in one of Tae’s extra-large pink sleep shirts stained from hair dye underneath Namjoon’s puffer coat and a pair of jungkook's grey work out sweats. Jin had been a little bit more purposeful- his sweatpants match- his matching purple set.
Namjoon's shirt is dark from blood, the bloodstain drying crusty, sticking to his skin like glue.
To say that Namjoon is angry is an understatement; rage rolls off of him in quiet unending ripples carrying with it the strength to change the pack for good if he’s not careful. He doesn't walk to the chairs no- he bee-lines it to you.
He watches you startle and turn, eyes widening. You do not make to move out of his path. 
Namjoon has never made you feel afraid before, but the pulse of it, the threat of fear is there as he backs you against the wall until your body lies against it. Looming over your head, so much taller and larger than you.
An alpha. An alpha hunting.
You tremble but you do not move to avoid him when he corners you.
He has a tiny bit of blood on his face, and a hairline splatter, almost like a constellation of stars across his temple. His fingers are harsh and shaking when they dig into your cheeks, pinching them until your lips open. Your knees tremble and you press your palm flat against the wall.
His scent thunders so thick and consuming that you can't physically stop yourself from trying to bear your throat. Namjoon stops you, holding you in place.
His eyes are dark and heavy-lidded as he looks down at you, He pinches your cheeks harder, shakinging you just a little. His voice is steady when he speaks, inches away from low snarl.
“Never make me hurt one of our packmates again.” You swallow, although it’s hard. And he pinches again- harder before you get a chance to speak- to try and defend why you brandished that knife at Jimin hours ago. Namjoon holds your face the same way he held the knife- tenderly.
“I mean it. Never.”
He holds you there for a second longer before he lets you go, leaving you gasping. His hand slides down your throat to your shoulder and neck, You would fall over if it wasn't for his touch keeping you up.
“I’m sorry.” You choke out, a few stingy tears making themselves known at the corner of your eyes. Namjoon rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. His spiky silver hair hits your skin. Rough.
After a second, he opens them again. Nodding. And his scent loses its bitter edge. He guides you to rest against his chest. You take big gasps of his scent now that he's giving you permission. Your instincts thunder through you so viciously that you can't physically stop yourself from tilting your neck and bearing your throat. 
Namjoon just drags a finger down it, humming. He holds you up, arms around you, a shield and a cage.
“It’s not okay.” I’m not okay, “but I forgive you.” Your knees do give out when Namjoon’s hand brushes the back of your neck, fingers digging in, a half hearted scruff that feels a bit like an apology of his own.
Even if he wants to be angry, anger won’t accomplish anything. Especially with you. His anger will only make you afraid and although Namjoon cannot be expected to control his emotions all the time, you have no reason to fear him.
He's never going to hurt you. He promised.
He walks you two strides, to put you into a chair next to Yoongi. Your mate takes you from him. The plastic chair makes a loud scraping noise against the linoleum floor. Jin's on your other side looking just as tired as the rest of you.
You'll get no rest tonight, sleeping in Jimin's hospital room when he gets out of surgery. Every fitful dream interrupted by the oxygen monitor on his arm. the first few hours when it will go off twice and prompt examination of his vasculature and operation site as well as a fresh dose of blood thinners. The biggest danger going forward will be blood clots; one too large in jimin's arm could leave his hand with nerve damage, numb for good.
But for now, Namjoon looks down at you, yoongi, and jin sitting in the plastic chairs. Secret, killer, and agent. All there in a pretty little row. Namjoon glares down at the three of you and crosses his arms.
“Explain.” Namjoon can’t wait another minute, another second. “Explain to me everything going on in my pack that I don't know about right now or I swear I'll-"
Yoongi scoffs, "That you'll what? That you'll tear us apart Namjoon? that you'll leave? Look around you- we're already falling to pieces." 
"You don't honestly expect me not to be angry that I had to stab jimin do you-"
"No, but don't yell at her. I have my limits."
"I wish I was one of those limits, but i'm clearly not since you insist on fucking over our pack-"
Jin turns, cutting them off from their argument with the true shock of his next words. You know that's what he's intending- but it sort of backfires. "Joonie, Don't get mad at Yoongi or her for this. Especially since I'm the one who shot Jimin. It was an accident."
You flinch, then put your head in your hands, namjoon's scent goes impossibly thick and angry for a second before he gets it under control. You physically watch Namjoon's hackles raise. watch Yoongi push back in his chair, leg jumping, running his hands through his hair looking from you to Jin, then back again.
"Jin, you should have kept that to yourself."
"What the fuck-"
Namjoon looks like he doesn't know weather to cry or laugh. "You don't just shoot someone on accident-"
Jin's got the best scoff, one worthy of music screens not just the quiet tomb of this room. Your relationship that's dying all around you. "You don't just stab someone on accident either and yet here we are-"
There are some secrets you take to the grave and others that you keep for too long, so long that they make a grave out of you. Keeping secrets is like keeping someone else's heart beating, you run out of blood eventually. 
You might vomit up the truth all over the hospital floor just like Namjoon did a few minutes ago. You feel sick and light-headed and sort of like you might have low blood sugar. namjoon's scent, angry alpha affects you more than you realize.
You start to teater, and their next biting words get extinguished when you almost fall out of the chair, nearly sliding to the floor before Namjoon catches you. One knee dully aches as he picks you up like you weigh nothing, ducking in close, real concern in his face, all his anger gone.
"Shit are you okay?"
"Pup?"
"Just got lightheaded-" Whatever it was, your lightheadedness will have to wait for another time. It's honestly probably just stress. Your heart feels like it's beating extra fast, extra hard.
Namjoon places you gently back in the chair and Yoongi touches your shoulder, the trio of their concerned faces that you swat away.
"We should wait for Hobi." You still owe him an explanation- for earlier and these aren't the kind of secrets you say more than you have to. A cup of water gets thrust into your hands and for once, they fall silent.
When Hobi comes in he’s mostly quiet holding his phone in his hand. Looking at you from across the room. His soulful eyes watching you, head tipping to the side in deference.
"Tae's in-" It takes him a second to gather his words. "Tae's in a fucking state. She was crying so hard that Jungkook had to call them an Uber. I just told her Jimin had been stabbed and nothing else because I didn't know what to tell her."
"That's probably for the best we don't have to-" your mate starts, but Namjoon cuts him off.
"No, no more secrets. Not between any of us."
Hoseok still has a hickey from you on the side of his neck, from you earlier. Jin's fingers skim down the one on your shoulder where a mirrored mark sits knocking you out of your Hobi-induced reverie, red and bruising from his mouth. Jin raises his eyebrow at you, but now is not the time to tell him about you and hobi.
"We've got like- maybe 30 minutes until they get here."
You swallow past a lump in your throat, readying yourself for it, “better make it quick then,” Namjoon waits, Seokjin is silent, watching you, gaze flickering from you to Hobi every few blinks. Yoongi holds onto your knee, sliding his palm down to your hand, your wrist. Finger digging into the sensitive scent gland there and rubbing comforting circles.
You swallow hard. “We’re all on each other's sides, right?”
“Of course,” Jin crosses his arms like he's offended you even had to ask. You bite back your retort. Namjoon nods, so does Hobi.
Your hair flops as you nod. But you still look to Yoongi to wait for permission. After a breath your mate nods and spreads his hands, giving you the floor.
If there’s one thing you know it’s that you can’t do this alone, you and Yoongi, Namjoon and Jin, Jimin and Tae. You and Hobi. There is no separation here, not when it comes to your safety. Each of you cannot keep the rest safe on your own.
“I met Jimin a few months before I met Yoongi, I…Yoongi’s family-”
Yoongi resists the temptation to speak for about 10 seconds when you fall silent. You can sense the moment that the truth shifts, when it explodes at Yoongi’s tongue. Unbidden but frantic and relieving like it's taken Yoongi's whole being to keep all this in.
“My family, I've never liked calling them that. Blood means nothing to me, you guys, you guys were always my family more than them." The pack is silent but you lace your hands with his and nudge his thigh with yours, encouraging him to go on.
"My relatives run the largest network of organized crime on the East Coast, from Boston to Miami. Everything from racketeering to prostitution to production and distribution of pharmaceutical-grade opioids. cover ups, sale of illegal weapons, extorsion of political officials and blackmail. If you can think of a crime they do it. If you can think of a way to make money, they've got their hands in it. It’s one of the reasons why I don’t go home- why my parents-”
Yoongi breaks off, his voice going small and quiet. Wounds he doesn’t talk about- even to you.
“There’s maybe 200 of us now. I’ve got a lot of fucking aunts and uncles. We try to stay in our lanes, our cities, and deal only in our respective crimes. There's a lot of politics and a lot of people vying for control here and there, but only alphas are allowed to lead, omega's increases the bonds of power in other ways and beta's- You know how rare beta's are- in my family- i'm treated as second only to the family head. Being a beta offered me certain liberties. Other freedoms. Not only to avoid most of the violent stuff- but to leave and move around without asking for permission. It's like a get out of hell free card. Not everyone gets that."
You snort, crossing your arms over your chest, “You mean they didn’t exactly expect you to go about popping heirs or advancing the family business through murder and ruining innocent people's lives. not like they expected with me."
Hoseok shrivels his nose, He looks from you to Yoongi- eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “hang on i thought- Are you guys trying to say you’re fucking related or-”
“Oh my god daisy-”
You splutter, “gross- No, we’re not fucking like- blood-related or anything.” You tap your chest. "I'm non family- brought in from the outside. Which means I was just about as valuable as piss to the aunts. In our world the only reason to mate or marry is for power- any other reason and your spouse is considered disposable." you cross your legs, admitting something you've kept to yourself, not a secret just a suspicion. "Geumjae never intended to keep me around forever."
Seokjin makes a strangled noise and Namjoon runs his hands through his hair, “Jesus Christ.”
Hobi raises his hands bare, “Sorry! You’re not doing a good job of explaining!”
"Well, if you just gave me a minute to get to the point-" Yoongi seems to shake himself, to put himself together. “Like she said- I'm not expected to partake in the family buisness, Only alphas are allotted that 'honor'." Yoongi puts the words in quotations and adds an eye roll for good measure.
"Mainly- I’m treated as some sort of glorified advice Column. People call and ask me things and I’m required to answer or else they’d hunt me down and drag me back. They bring me in to coordinate stuff because I'm a beta and I keep everyone calm and keep them from killing each other and shooting out their squabbles. I tried to keep you guys safe that’s why I left but-“
Jin’s hand goes to yours, nodding, because he understands. “But not why you stayed away.”
“No. It's not.” The pack's eyes naturally stray to you.
“The heads of houses report to the family head and she directs them to me if they need a beta's touch. Only she hasn't- the new Don hasn't asked anything of me since taking power. When the last one died- my grandparents- I left to help with the transition. But the new Don doesn't need me."
You flinch, you try to hide it but Yoongi turns, ferreting out that there's a secret there without you having to confess it. Your voice is darker than they’ve ever heard. "It's not that she doesn't need you- it's that she doesn't trust you."
Yoongi tries not to sound accusatory. "Her trust isn't something you should be after."
“It’s not- promise I just-” You pick at a stray thread on your pants.
The linoleum floor in front of you is polished so clean that you can see your reflection in it. "She shouldn't trust me either- and she knows it. Believe me she knows it."
Now it's Yoongi's turn to look at you. To pull himself to the edge of his chair to try and get in front of you. A wordless question that he dares not speak.
"Before you, I was already trying to do whatever I had to survive. including doing what everyone else did back in that hellhole and ask for help-"
Yoongi stands, to much energy and panic in his body to stay seated. “You didn’t." This is a fight and a confession you shouldn’t have In front of the rest of them.
You look up at Yoongi, eyes beseeching. He's quiet and you make your words as measured and soft as you can. "I asked your grandparents first- and then when she told me as long as I did what she said she'd get me out I-"
“She’s more dangerous than Geumjae, you can’t have honestly been trying to trade one captor for another."
The whole pack is silent, watching the two of you. Not really understanding. But Jin- Jin pursues his lips. You don't know how he knows but he does.
Yoongi’s face goes truly white. Yoongi’s hands are shaking. Shaking until he grabs the handles of your chair, knees to the ground, bowed in front of you. Letting your silence stew for a second.
Maybe it’s a terrible thing to blame it on her, you hadn’t fought not to kill. But back then it had really felt like your only way out, the only way to escape the ever-suffocating pressure of trying not to die.
“For what it’s worth, I had no idea what they meant to you when she made me help her kill them.”
Something shifts in Yoongi’s stature, from surprise and shock to resignation so quickly you almost miss it. A tense set to his jaw but a tight-lipped understanding as his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and he rests his forehead on your knees.
He's very careful in his words. Slow with them and intentional when he lifts his head and stands. You don't know if they're lies. “Just like my parents, just like all of us in the family, I knew their days were numbered anyway.” But you loved them once you want to say. You’re not sure why you want Yoongi to be angry at you.
“I won’t apologize, not for what I had to do to survive.”
Yoongi cradles your cheek. Something dark and conflicted in his eyes.
“I know, but I’d forgive you anyway, even if you did it out of anger.”
“And Jimin?” Namjoon asks, Yoongi's hand drops from your cheek. "How does he connect to all of that?"
“I met him first, I asked him.” You hesitate. This isn't your secret to tell and you don't even know all of it- like how jimin even became an assassin or started killing. you don't know his motives. It's one thing to confess your own sins, and another to talk about Jimin's to them without his say-so.
Jin darts forward, holding your hand in both of his, “Whatever we say in this room- I’d never dream of recording. I’m not on anyone’s side but ours.” Jin screws his eyes shut tight, willing you and Yoongi to believe him. "Even with the FBI thing."
Namjoon whirls. He doesn't have to ask before Jin's spilling it. telling the truth.
Jin is measured with his speech, but it's his turn. No more secrets, that's what you've all agreed. "I've been working with the FBI for the last 8 years. They approached me back before we met Joonie- because of my proximity to Yoongi. First as an informant, then an agent and now the head of the task force.
"I only did it because I figured out that being a part of them was the easiest way to keep Yoongi out of jail. As long as I could reasonably assume I was the only one trusted and close enough to keep an eye on him, I could keep all the truly damning evidence out of their hands."
Jin turns to you, resisting the urge to reach out to you for his own comfort, you're looking at him like he's got three heads, but he smiles down at you, that pup-soft smile that he saves just for you when you're both nesting.
"I kept your name off of the photocopies of the recipie you used to kill them. Don't worry, no one but us knows." You look at Jin with new eyes, not a double agent but not an enemy either. Somewhere in between. Your heart pulses, and you grip his hand back.
Yoongi pulls his hands through his hair, angry, his tone grave "Well there's your reason-"
Hobi has been so quiet you've honestly almost forgotten he was there. Elbows balanced on his knees and watching the three of you on trial for Namjoon. "Answer to what."
"You don't understand Jin, you don't understand the laws of the family much less the one you've broken."
"The reason why someone's trying to kill you, if anyone finds out that Y/n killed them- everyone connected to them is fair game."
"You mean-"
"We're all done, if anyone finds out, that's probably why the new head of house was trying to take Jin out- to tie up a loose end."
"Hang on, I'm getting confused again." Hobi runs his hands through his hair, and it fluffs up. "Jimin's what again?"
“Jimin is an assassin, I asked Jimin to kill my husband for me but he said no.” You pick at a strand of thread on your pants, unwilling to look up and meet any of their eyes, not Namjoon’s or Jin’s. “Met him back when we meant nothing to each other. He still feels guilty for not saving me. We talked it out a while ago. It’s okay- I did it myself eventually- didn’t need anyone’s help.”
You look up at Yoongi and he looks like he might want to laugh or cry and can't pick which. “I don’t know much else about Jimin other than that he kills for the family."
"They've got people for everything, a few assassin's they keep on retainer," Yoongi clarifies. "People that anyone can hire if you've got the money for it. There are a few names that the family puts on a no-kill list, Children, the pack mates of the ruling pack, the heads of houses and their immediate packmates. If anyone kills a person on the no-kill list- their life is forfeit. I'm on it by default. The pack mates of the beta are on it too, All of you are on it. No one should be trying to kill you."
Yoongi's never paid much attention to the list, the waxing and waning names and faces and photos. he's been on it since before he was born and with no intent to kill or harm anyone and put himself even potentially in harm's way, he's never sought it out.
Maybe if he had, things would go differently.
A cold rush of realization rushes over you. "That's why Jimin and Jin ended up there" You stand up, adrenaline in your hands. "She was hoping they'd take each other out so she wouldn't have to break family law to kill them."
Yoongi shakes his head, "Something about this doesn’t feel right- something about this isn’t normal.”
Hobi’s phone dings before you can hash it out anymore. He looks down in his lap. “They're here,” he’s up and out of the chair, heading out the door and into the hall so quickly that the rest of you have to chase after him. Namjoon tugs you to your feet, staring at Yoongi and Jin. "Was that enough?" you ask.
"We'll talk more later." is all he says. But he does lace his hands with yours and pull you after Hobi. Your legs are so short you have to take two steps for every one of theirs.
“I wish Tae and Kookie were here for that-“
"They should know” your mate agrees, keeping pace with you in the hallway, dropping back with you when Namjoon accidentally lets go in his haste to get through the door. You make eye contact with Yoongi when you turn. Your back to one of those push doors using your body weight to push through it.
You pause, waiting with Yoongi on the other side of them.
“If anyone tells her about Minnie- should be me.”
(You know exactly how you’ll do it, you’ll tell Tae the story of you just like this. You’ll tell it like a story, with author notes and playlists near the end. You’ll talk about Jimin just like this; all of the good parts and all of the bad all in one. So that she might truly understand that having a choice doesn't always mean you're free to do whats right.)
Yoongi nods, “I can tell Jungkook. I think if I do it gently, he won’t get shocked enough to have a seizure.”
You pause before the doors open, to have just a moment with the two of you, just you and him leaning against it. He shifts closer, not holding you, hands by his side but he's close enough that you could rest your head on his shoulder. You do rest your head on his shoulder. Just to hear his heartbeat thud sluggish and heaven-sent against your ear.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” It feels like it’s been ages and ages since you’ve had a quiet moment with him like this. You resolve to have one, to make space for him when this is all over. A private date with just the two of you maybe. Whenever Jimin comes home. “To help with Jimin.”
“It’s okay. I’m sorry I killed your grandparents.”
“They weren’t good people,” Yoongi shrugs, you've never seen a sadder shrug. “I always knew that. They-” yoongi breaks off, stealing himself for a quiet confession. "I think they might have had a hand in killing my parent. She didn't like it- that they had so much power over me. Future of the family and all."
"You've never said-"
Yoongi pushes through the door, and a high pitched keening cuts off your next words. "Later."
You push through the door and Tae and Jungkook are already there. Entering through the outside doors with a puff of air into Namjoon and Jin's waiting arms. Namjoon holds Tae up as she wails and wails. Her cry high like a nightingale. Jungkook looks pale and shaky, settled under Hobi's shoulder clearly in shock.
You cut through them, ducking under Jin's outstretched arm and colliding with Tae before anyone else can join Namjoon in holding her. falling to little heap on the linoleum floor, just at the precipice of the long hallway that connects to the patient rooms and the nurse's stations to other surgical suites. Drawing countless stars, countless looks from passersby as Tae's sobs renew themselves, loud and broken.
You clinging to each other. Her arms around your shoulders, cradling your head like it's the last safe thing in the universe.
“Jimin,” her voice breaks, throat closing around nothing. Sobs wet and angry, hot tears dripping down her cheeks, big and unabated by hope. "Minnie- My Minnie-"
You cling back, getting your hands on her cheeks. “He’s gonna be fine, he’ll be alright- here- here let me help you up. We've got you Tae-”
Jungkook looks a bit better, a little bit less like he’s drowning. Jin reaches for him while you hold onto Tae. And JK’s nostrils flare, he steps back, looking Jin up and down. Tae clings to you on the floor of the hospital and you look up at them. At Jin and Jungkook, standing a pace apart. Jungkook's hands keep Jin from coming any closer.
“You smell like Jimin does when he comes home from his trips, you smell like gunpowder. And mucky-” Jungkook's voice breaks, "Jin? Why do you smell like blood?"
There are too many people around, too many people for something like this. You're just glad It’s a quiet omission, Jungkook’s scent is level and so is his breath.
Maybe you should give him a lot more credit. Yoongi might not have to tell him much.
Tae's tears hit your collarbones as she crushes you, sobbing loudly in your ear, immune to the string of sweet nothings that fall from your lips. Whispered against her temple.
To everyone else in the hallway, rushing in the late-night hum, you and Tae look just the way that you’d expect; Two girls clinging to each other, one tall and the other short. One an alpha and the other an omega.
The rest of the pack is so blinded by their concern and their terror that they don’t look up. They don’t look down the hall to see the figure standing there watching them. One second the hallway is empty of the dark figure and then next she's there- waiting for you.
Her pine and medicine scent is disguised by the smell of death that lingers here. Although more than 2 of the people there might recognize it if they had the patience to sniff it out. They're too distracted by Yoongi dragging Jungkook close and whispering in his ear to keep his voice down.
Moonbyul watches the scene from the end of the hall. Two coffees in her hands. One for her and one for you because she always assumes that you'll go with her when she asks. No matter what’s going on with your pack, Moonbyul is not the kind of person who you say no to. She’ll ask nicely for you to come one more time.
Or so she thought. Looking at you and Tae holding each other is giving her other ideas.
To love a man is something she's always been able to dismiss as a mistake. Little pups just don't know what they need and even less what they want. She'd been prepared to deal with you loving them, the alphas, on paper, even the admittedly pretty omega male currently in her cousin's arms.
But another woman? Even one like that?
Rage is not like other sorts of anger, it’s not like fire burning to take. Achieng to burn until all the heat has worked itself out. Rage is quiet, rage is darkness and a hunger that needs to consume. That will destroy even if you try to stop it.
It's one thing to know that you love a woman besides her, and another to see you peck kisses along her tearstained cheeks. The rage builds as she watches you cup that female alpha’s cheeks. She watches you brush her hair back from her eyes and tuck it behind her ears. She’s got honeyed skin and smudged lipstick (so inelegant) you wipe her tears away and kiss her cheek.
But what makes Moonbyul’s hands tighten into claws, her metal-tipped nails piercing the coffee cups and making them drip onto the ground, wet and hot, is the way you smile at her.
Moonbyul’s rage is like a tidal wave.
By the time the rest of the pack looks up, the hallway is empty except for a puddle of coffee on the linoleum floor and two discarded cups. One with red lipstick stains and the other without.
~-~
(18 hours later, Jimin)
Tae’s cheek is so soft. That’s the first thing that Jimin’s aware of as he wakes from surgery.
Coming out of general anesthesia feels like being a rickety buoy on the busy ocean. One second bobbing to the surface and the next crashing below the waves and taking on water. Sloshy. Everything feels sloshy.
He only feels her at first- not the hospital bed, not the scratchy sheets, Just the feeling of her cheek resting against the palm of his hand. Her gentle breath tickling his fingers in her sleep.
Jimin will always know the particular beat and cadence of Tae’s body. Would know it if the sun got snuffed out like a candle. Would know her breath anywhere because it’s the very fuel to Jimin’s soul, the very thing that sets the tempo to the heart monitor beating out a pleasant rhythm in the midafternoon hum.
Her skin is pillowy and sweet beneath Jimin’s flayed fingers, limp and cold to the touch because of the whole almost bleeding out thing. He doesn’t know it yet, but he's needed 9 units of blood in the past 24 hours. 4 right away, and 3 during the surgery where they removed the knife and stitched his arm together. And another two units just after.
Compared to his own body, Tae feels so warm.
At least Jimin can still feel his left hand. The doctors that stitched him back together must have done a bang-up job, Namjoon even more so. a lot of people can put an arm back together, a whole slew of them, but not many surgeons could stab someone carefully enough so as to not permanently injure them. There are only so many people that he would trust to stab him.
But Jimin trusts Namjoon with a whole lot more than just that.
When he opens his eyes (a task of herculean proportions) Namjoon isn’t there, it’s just Tae in one of those absurdly uncomfortable hospital chairs. She’s bent over his hospital bed in what must surely be an uncomfortable position to sleep in. Her back arched like invisible wings weigh her down. She slept like that, sprawled as close as she could get to Jimin without the nurses waking her up and telling her not to crowd him.
The smudged mascara on her cheeks flake like falling stars, little trails there were tears rendered it useless. Jimin wipes away a black droplet like he's banishing a ghost. She’s cried so much over the last 10 hours, most of her makeup gone and sporting a bit of 5 o’clock shadow too. The faint roughness that Jimin feels no more than once. Because to derive sensory pleasure from that feels…wrong.
He looks at the ceiling, wondering where the others are. He feels the edge of his body, the spot where the wound begins and the pain ends. Who knew gunshots and stab wounds could make you feel so sore? and tired too? Exhaustion pins his body to the bed like a butterfly to a corkboard.
A wire connected to his good hand tugs, But he ignores it in favor of cradling Tae's head and combing through the tangles in her hair. It's gotten so long now, just to her shoulders, but the bits feel so soft and gauzy against his fingertips. He wishes he could feel it forever. It’s much much better than the 5 o’clock shadow.
It takes a dozen passes for Tae to stir.
And then she startles awake, flinching into being. Fresh tears disrupt the mascara flecks as she beholds her soulmate and nearly tugs herself across his bed to get her hands on his face. To hold his cheeks.
To say that Tae has looked better would be accurate for jimin to say but the words would never grace Jimin’s lips. Not even close. Even with a crusty face and greasy hair- Tae looks gorgeous- so pretty that his heart pulses dangerously quickly. so quickly that jimin's suprised the nurses don't come by and check on him.
Maybe they haven’t given him enough opioids for his shoulder because for a second he feels his heartbeat ricochet through his whole body. To his fingers where he's touching her and back to his heart. Every echo and ripple Tae Tae Tae.
Tae bends over Jimin’s body. Her hands go to his face, fingers touching his smile, and thumbs pressed to his faint crow's feet and twinkling eyes. Clutching at him like he’s her lifeline (he is, a red string of fate that keeps her from drowning, always. She was stupid not to use it like an anchor).
“Pup told me.” She says, a note of finality in her voice, lower lip trembling, tears falling anew “told me you kept talking about me even when you were stabbed" she goes quiet, whispering the words like she's scared someone might be listening in.
"Pup told me everything."
Jimin’s eyes flick from her lips to her face, her body, everything. His hands are trembling, chest building with breaths until they’re heaving and the realization of just how much everything she must know hits him.
Tae knows Jimin well enough to know what a panic attack looks like- knows enough how to soothe it. Knows just to hold on and wait for it to pass. jimin's hands splay and flex, rubbing her skin once, twice, and then a third time in an effort to self-soothe.
"It's okay,"
"You mean you're not-" Jimin's heart monitor is going so wild that Tae has to tell him to calm down. Has to run her fingers up and down his scent glands on his neck, nipping at them to settle him. "You're not angry that I'm-"
That I'm a killer, that I'm a monster. That I've kept everything from you. Jimin readies himself, preparing himself for the speech he always knew he'd have to give. You don't understand, I didn't have a choice, I wouldn't have chosen this- I didn't I just. I never killed people who didn't deserve it- because I know that you'd hate that.
For the first time in their lives, Tae and Jimin are sitting across from each other- without a single secret to each of their consciousness. both of them free and perilously unmoored for it.
But there are no words that Tae needs when she looks up at him and smiles. Wetness at the corner of her eyes.
Seeing Jimin in the hospital bed had not felt like Patroclus and Achilles, it hadn't even felt like Orpheus and Eurydice. There was no roaring anguish. The kind that follows when people leave you too soon. Or the bitter vindication that happens when people leave at just the right time (it’s the worst when people leave like that. Either linger or make me miss you. Stay too long or leave me early. Either way is fine. I’ll feel more human if I’ve got longing or hatred to feel).
In truth seeing Jimin in the hospital bed, wires and hooks connected to him- keeping him alive and keeping him breathing, had felt like a second chance. She's not going to let something as simple as a secret spoil it.
Tae knows she should want to know more about Jimin's job as an assassin and should want to ask more questions (if not to understand her soulmate better, than for writing material). She Should be more revolted or disturbed or upset that her literal soulmate kills people for a living, but at the moment, all she can find in herself is just to be glad that Jimin is fucking alive.
It’s funny, how much your priorities can shift.
Jimin looks like he doesn't believe her. "Tae, you can't even kill spiders."
"Would you care?" Jimin falls silent. "Would you care if it was me in your position?"
Jimin swallows hard and winces. He doesn’t have to ask for a sip of water, because Tae has already gotten it for him by the time his good hand closes over his throat. His shoulder is bound so tightly in bandages that he can hardly shift it. Can't reach up to stop himself from spilling a bit of the water down his chin. Her nails (red polished and chipped) wipe away a drop on his lips.
(There's more that you weren't able to tell her just yet; a lot about you and Yoongi and Jin. You've decided to save the bulk of how Jimin ended up in the hospital bed until after Jimin woke up. Later when you can get her on her own you'll tell her. Probably after Jimin's discharged from the hospital. But the other secrets can wait for now).
It won’t really hit her until later. When she’s in her closet looking at all of her pretty things and designer clothes. Fingers toeing along the fine black cashmere sweaters, to the maroon dresses, to the scarlet ones, stopping just before she reaches the pink. The Dior, the Versache, the McQueen. It will only be then that she'll put two and two together and realize they were all paid for with blood money. With people’s lives.
It will bother her then; it doesn’t bother her right now. It will never bother her enough to think about leaving jimin.
How do you make the choice? What to condemn a loved one for? How do you pin down your line of intolerance when it's someone you love with your whole being? Can you decide at all or is it something that your soul chooses for you? The weight of one sin for another. what you're willing to go through.
They would have died anyway. Even if Jimin hadn't killed them, they had someone out there willing enough to pay for their death and they'd have died anyway she rationalizes. We're all going to die anyway.
Maybe it’s a silver lining that Tae no longer believes in the same kind of sin and wrongness that Jimin does. Doesn’t believe in God and heaven at all. Tae has always believed in soulmates more and believed in Jimin the most. More than any god or afterlife.
“I should be angry, anyone else probably would be but-” Tae turns her cheek into Jimin’s fingers, pressing her lips to his trigger finger. Eyes shining when she looks at him. “I’ve wasted too much of my life being angry at you, wasted too much of it feeling anything but love for you- Jimin- if you died, I-”
Jimin cradles Tae's cheek. “I’m sorry for Namjoon’s rut- for what I said. Didn’t mean it. Never mean it if I'm mean-” Jimin’s finger rubs across Tae’s lips, the wide part of his palm splayed across her jaw, and so much is said in that little touch. But they look at each other and laugh. "Not like Noodle."
It shocks a laugh out of Tae and she presses her temple to Jimin's jaw, feels his smile when the joint moves. She realizes that Jimin's still a little high. Probably too doped up on pain medicine to have this conversation but oh well.
“I never thought it would take you getting stabbed for me to realize it,” her lip trembles, “I don’t want to waste another second being angry with you.”
“I don’t want to waste another second with you either. Won't even sleep,” his eyelashes flutter, struggling to stay awake.
Tae pulls herself more firmly on top of the bed and Jimin shifts a little, wakes a little more when she slings a leg carefully over his hips. Being gentle, still conscious of his physical state. He uses his good arm to pull her up and up until She’s splayed across his lap.
Kissing Tae never loses its edge, it always feels like their first kiss, sweet and with that knotted bundle of anticipation. Jimin sits up into the kiss, sits up until his shoulder protests and he hisses into the kiss. "Don't strain yourself minnie-"
"Don't care just-" he pulls her hips snugly. After that words are sparse as they kiss, again and again, lips working together. Sloppy messy love kisses. Every breath tastes like love, every second of it. She giggles pulling apart for a second to get her breath, the heartbeat monitors in the corner going wild. Breath that washes over Jimin like a gust of spring air, cinnamon flower sweat, and heady. Tae’s kisses are better than a first sip of coffee or a breath of fresh air. (They’re better than living, just a little bit).
“If I was any less sore, I’d ask you to bite me right now.”
Tae grins, and it’s a special secret smile. “You said something like that to Pup too."
“I’m so lucky I get to be yours- don't want to waste the luck-" Tae shakes her head stubbornly pulling back.
"I don’t think that you should say you’re lucky. I’m so lucky that this person loved me, or I’m so lucky that I got to love them. Because when it comes down to it, love and luck are not the same thing. Love is not a single event, like winning the lottery, or finding a 100-dollar bill. Love is a choice and you have to choose it a thousand times. Every day you choose it. Luck is such a cop-out. It’s been really nice.”
“God, I hope I’m more than just nice.”
Tae smiles, “Shut up” She goes a little pale. “Actually don’t shut up with me like- ever. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say.” She plays with Jimin’s hands, “Is that when either of us- whoever- goes first-“ Jimin’s grip goes knuckle tight on her waist, he's coming out of it, a little more lucid with every breath. Waking up more.
“When one of us dies- I don’t want to question if I ever loved you enough, I don't want to rely on just luck. I don’t want to think about the days that I could have gone for coffee with you or could have kissed you longer. I don’t want to think that I didn’t get exactly what I wanted and you didn’t get exactly what you wanted too.
"I want to give you one extra kiss every time so that you get twice as much as you would have gotten otherwise. I just want to think that it was nice, that every moment of it was nice- even when we fought, I want to look back on it and think ‘even the sad parts were nice and I got more than I thought I would.' No luck involved.”
She grins down at him, that same youthful grin she’s had her whole life, Jimin thinks of it sometimes- how many times she’s smiled this way and he hasn’t seen. How many more he will see.
“Also, y/n says that you’re allowed to mate me, but not marry me. She says my ring finger belongs to her.”
Jimin slides up the bed, flipping her over, supporting himself with his good hand, sending her sprawling and giggling. His growl is half hearted but promising. Tae laces her hand in his greasy blonde hair and it stays there.
It stays there.
~-~
The rest of Jimin’s hospital stay goes a bit like this:
There is a pair of suits outside the window, dark and imposing. plain clothes police officers watching and waiting like vultures. They’ve already taken statements from the pack but demand to hear from Park Jimin himself.
Lies from the source always taste the sweetest.
There is a story ironed out and penned in stolen moments, you curled up in one packmate's lap and transferred to another, "the pup" Jin had said, the youngest, was not taking her alpha's stabbing well. "She just needs a bit of soothing, sorry." The suits are charmed enough by two cuddling omega's that they don't notice your mouth pressed to their ears, like a game of cuddly murderous telephone.
The story gets ironed out easily, you’d all gone out for pizza, had come home to find Jimin bleeding in your kitchen.
“It’s pretty normal for Jimin to be reckless with his health. I’m not surprised he tried to come home and see if I could stitch him up himself. I'm a doctor at his hospital- Dr. Kim, pack alpha and head of neurosurgery. The knife- you should know I touched it on accident he wanted to remove it himself and I just had to stop him- I’m sorry- I should have known better I was just- so shaken.” Namjoon is a passable liar at best.
Jungkook has folded himself under your mate’s arm, and Jin’s too. He’s still vaguely shaking, bunny eyes wider than usual. In a little bit, Namjoon will drag him over to an empty exam room for a quick check-up. Just to make sure he isn't about to seize on the floor. Yoongi will go with him, Will tell him the truth about all of this then.
But what, with his comment earlier, you wouldn't be surprised if Jungkook has already figured it out on his own.
Jimin doesn’t even need to be coached into remembering it. The police don’t even think of not letting the pack see him, after seeing Tae’s teary eyes. A pretty girl is the best distraction, and the pack has two pretty girls that smell sour and need to tend to their alpha before the police get a chance too.
They’re impatient as they watch you and Tae fold yourself over Jimin’s barely aware body, more preoccupied with looking at your asses than they don’t see your lips moving against Jimin’s ear, mistaking your shaking for the racking sobs. And your quiet words for sweet nothings.
Hobi had barely leashed a growl, and resisted the urge to step in front of you and block you both from their sight.
The story is so easy and simple- a true case of Ockham’s razor. The simplest story with the least details is the most likely to be believed. the story Jimin tells the police goes like this;
Earlier yesterday, a crazy fan of the idol group he guards that must have followed him from his schedule with intent to learn his schedule and get closer to them. Her description is so ordinary that they’ll never find her because she doesn’t exist. Any person found will easily be made inculpable; either by alibi or honesty. Not that the law cares much about honesty, nor that any of you care about possibly implicating a stranger.
Love always did make people go to extremes, it's easily believable.
Nothing else matters. Besides keeping everyone safe. You're united against this.
Once they're gone, other promises get made:
“I want you to quit, this is too dangerous, if something like this happens to you again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it.”
“We need to make sure we travel in pairs until we figure out what’s going on, why they're targeting Jimin and Jin.”
“I can ask some of my contacts-“
“You’ll do no such thing Yoongi.”
“Do you think we should be like- Armed? Just in case?”
“I don’t think more guns will solve anything but…Maybe.”
In a stolen moment, Namjoon corners you outside Jimin's hospital bedroom, he's holding three bags of takeout, not that Jimin will really be able to eat much of it. The opioids keep down his appetite. That doesn't meant the pack won't try to fuss. As it is, Jimin hasn't been interested in anything but kissing Tae and holding her hand. Pouting whenever the nurses make tae leave.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier," Namjoon has always found apologies easy and has never had so much of an ego that it would get in the way of any of it.
"It's alright, between you and me, I think it was kind of justified." You'd probably yell at all of them if they convinced you to stab Yoongi or tae or any of them.
"No more secrets, okay? Promise me this is the last one." It's easy to promise Namjoon that, so easy. To let him scent you, rubbing his coffee liquor scent all over your shoulder.
(But it's not about the promises that you make, it's about the ones that you break.)
You sit out in the hallway the following morning, still in the same clothes and starting to feel a little bit filthy because of it. None of you have gone home yet. Hobi sits next to you and Jungkook's on the other side.
They’re just checking Jimin’s stitches again, and his hospital room just got a bit crowded. The prospect of checkout is maybe a day away. Tonight is the last you'll have to spend at the hospital.
It was also time to talk over Jimin’s opioid regimen, and the doctor had been nearly delighted when Namjoon had stepped up and taken the lead, reassuring the doctor under no uncertain terms that Namjoon would manage them. You can forgive him for thinking a little too much with his hindbrain. If Namjoon leaned any more into his instincts you'd be worried he was close to going into a rut again.
“Is this what it’s like when I’m in the hospital?” Jungkook asks, sucking on some skittles. It's more sugar than he should be allowed to have especially during a high-stress situation. But Jungkook’s taking the panic to get a little bit of freedom. You cast a glance at Tae, at Yoongi and Jin, standing by the door looking like he’s about ready to twitch out of his skin with the effort it's taking him to stand outside.
Jin had apologized- him and Namjoon both, and Jimin had accepted it instantly. "If I trust anyone to shoot and stab me- it's you two so-"
"But-" they'd argued, but eventually Jimin had turned a little scary, a little threatening. showing a hint maybe- of a persona they're all unused to but you're not. Jimin can be firm when he needs to be. A quick retort of-
"Forcing me to comfort you over something I'm not upset about is not the way to make me forgive you." Shut them up for good (or at least for now).
“Yeah, pretty much.” You hold out your hand for some skittles and he gives you a few. Hobi grimaces and reaches over to take the orange ones out of your palm. He knows you don’t like those. He replaces them with a few green ones.
"It’s fucking boring. I should get you guys like- a DS or something for Christmas.”
“Don’t tell Minnie or he’ll blow all his money on-“ You cringe at your words and Hobi flinches. Jungkook just chews on his candies, they smack against his teeth with a hard clinking sound.
There is still some of Jimin's blood under Hobi's fingernails. You see it when he reaches over to take your Skittles.
The next time Hobi moves to take your Skittles, you grab his hand and pull him to his feet. "Come on."
You lead Hoseok into the women's bathroom, underneath the curious eye of the nurses, all the stalls are empty so you pull him over to the counter.
“You’ve got some- stuff- under your nails- let me.” You rip a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and wet them. You clean Hobi’s hands diligently and he lets you.
He stays quiet, Hobi's been quiet for the last day or so. He hasn't done more than whisper a few quiet words to Jimin and stay close. He didn't say anything during your secret confession yesterday. Didn't ask a single question and the silence bleeds now as you scrub the clean-smelling soap against his skin. Your anxiety builds, and you scrub a little harder. His fingers remain limp in your touch.
“Say something- say anything okay? I need to know that you’re not-” not angry with me. That you don't hate me- that you still love-.
Hobi pulls you against his shoulder in a single clean movement. His wet hands hit your stomach when he grabs your hips. Your nose brushing his throat, his nose skimming your hairline.
“I’m trying not to take too much energy from Jimin- trying not to- be a mess- because he's the only one who deserves the packs attention. I'm not even sure if I am a mess about it. Sure that sucked but-" he sighs, "you and I are kinda like- uniquely able to handle things like this cuz of-" he doesn't need to finish his sentence. Hoseok's lips brush your ear, lips touching your skin, and- he pulls back, smiling softly. It's a tired smile but there it is- soft and special and just for you.
“You’re taking things, remarkably well considering the last time we…”
“The last time we had to deal with something like this?”
You hum, scrubbing a paper towel hard over the ends of Hobi's hands. The white paper goes orange-red with dried blood. "Give it time. There’s still a few weeks for me to go crazy this time.”
But this time, you have a feeling that it will be different. Although Hobi was there the last time- and played an instrumental role in making sure you didn't literally fall apart. It's different now. Right now, your hands tangle on the counter, holding on, even though you try to clean his hands of blood. Holding on is more important, neither of you tries and pull away. You don't have the energy for shyness.
What's more intimate? Sex or murder?
He huffs a small frustrated sound and stoops to rest his forehead against your shoulder, leaning almost all of his weight on you. You take it.
“Maybe this time I’ll take a crack at going crazy.” You laugh, stopping your brushing and just settling for holding him. Hips resting against the counter. The two of you rest, just for a moment.
Your nose against the side of his face where his undercut presses to your skin, spiky. "Still have that train ticket?" Hobi humms, taking a deep greedy breath of your scent to steady himself.
You're not expecting him to pull back and kiss you, but his lips are dry but warm, faintly chapped but yours are too. Pressing soft but demanding against yours. Hobi kisses you just as sweetly as last time and you grip the front of his jacket.
No sooner has he heaved you up on the counter, fingers hooking under your thighs to kiss you stronger- than is the door clanging open and a nurse comes barreling in.
"Ugh- uhm." She's a little stunned, but you're already hopping down, faces flushed and apologizing for the inconvenience.
You don’t throw the bloody paper towels in the garbage, but the toilet, flushing them once, then twice, to make sure that they’re down. Mumbling one last apology before you exit the bathroom together.
Hobi doesn't let go of your hand. You wonder if this is what loving him is going to be like; making out in places you shouldn't, special secret stolen glances when you keep holding hands even around the pack and keep stealing kisses.
You wonder if the kissing will stretch to the cars- to the late night drives, if he'll hold your hand like this around every hairpin turn. If Hobi's going to make you a make out playlist later, full of songs that make him think of you, songs that match the cadence and pitch of your heart. You wonder if loving him will be like this, stolen innocence, like finding sea glass on the beach. There and pretty for the taking if you only look for it.
Your heart feels all warm and tight with it, swaddled. Protected as Hobi tugs you back into Jimin's hospital room. You can't wait to find out.
The next few hours look like this; Namjoon sitting on the foot of the bed his hand on Jimin’s knee, feasting on hospital food. Jungkook giggles, and nearly throws himself across Jimin’s lap so that the alpha can put his hands through his hair. Looks like more takeout, living off of it because no one wants hospital food and you can't go home and cook. You refuse to leave right now.
It looks like Tae smiling for the first time In what feels like years but has logically been only a few hours. Rubbing a hand across her jaw and wincing when she feels the stubble.
Her wince quiets the sounds of the pack happy. And you look up from your plate.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, always stupidly attuned to her and her needs, always watching and waiting.
“I need to freaking shave and I just- I haven’t had the chance to.” Tae lets out a tired sigh, the kind of deep frustration that comes with things that you have no choice but to do.
You take her hand from her chair and tug her up. Because this- this source of angst can be fixed.
“Here- come on,” A shaving razor gets found for her, Namjoon goes to the surgical ward to get the right kind. Sharp and medical and disposable along with a tiny tube of shaving gel. You drag her chair into the bathroom and make her sit while you do it. Lathering up her cheeks and tipping her head back. The whole pack a cacophony in the other room. The shock of skittles and other candies falling onto the floor. Muted words then soft laughter.
You drag the shaving razor up her chin, over her chubby cheeks. Your gentle touch, the soft scrapping of her hair against the blade a gentle accompaniment to the sounds of the pack passing the time until Jimin wants to go to sleep. Jungkook's phone plays a tictok loud, "Bunny- headphones, Minnie's trying to rest" Yoongi reminds him.
Jimin is struggling not to fall asleep, shifting to one side of the hospital bed just to get a better vantage point to look into the bathroom at Tae. Jimin cranes his neck.
Tae's face twitches, and underneath the white froth you see her reddening cheeks. “Stop looking at me.”
Jimin grins from the hospital bed, “Can’t help it, love you.”
“Love you too Minnie” She choruses back, and the pack joins her.
that night, namjoon and yoongi push three hospital cots togeather around jimin's bed and the pack piles in, sweet bodies and kissed cheaks, whiped down with sanitary towels, you end up tucked between tae and hobi, your cheek pressed to her back.
the following morning it becomes impossible to ignore both how purely filthy the 8 of you are and the fact that Jimin's doctors won't let him check out until tomorrow (and even then he'll have days of bedrest and won't be able to use his arm until he gets his stitches out.) You haven't been home in two days, no one can remember if you even locked the front door with how crazy leaving was.
It’s hard to convince Tae to go with you and leave Jimin's side. But she's less resistant when Yoongi reminds her that Jimin needs new clothes to go home in since all of his bloodstained clothing was discarded as medical waste.
“Honestly we should get like- to go bags full of a change of clothes for all of us when like, JK has his seizures,” Maybe it’s just because you’ve done overnights twice in the last week at the hospital- but the idea doesn’t seem like a bad one.
Jin drives you, Hobi, and Tae home in silence; no one tells Tae any of the other secrets yet. Tired as she is, almost falling asleep in the car. Waking with a start when you turn onto your street.
It's a little shocking. When you get home to a cold and quiet house. Jimin's blood has dried up into dark waxy puddles, on the kitchen table and the floor. There are fingerprints from someone, rusty and red on the doorframe. It's stark to see the evidence. To see a bit of it on the butcher block countertop all the terror and the color leached out of it in the grey afternoon light.
Tae is so stumbly that Hobi has to grab her twice just to keep her from walking into walls when he gets her inside. Noodles immediately yowl has you feeling terribly guilty, he circles your and Hobi's ankles. But you push at Hoseok's hands when he stoops to pick him up.
"Take Tae upstairs and shower with her, will you? I'll be up in a second, just gonna feed him and get some stuff together." She's blinking and looking at the bloodstains, eyes already looking glassy with fresh tears.
You need a second, a second in quiet, a second alone just to steady yourself. Jin comes in, dragging in a mountain of mail from your box, "I've got them, come on pups, grooming time."
Jin pecks a kiss along your forehead, "Come up the second you finish?"
You nod, "Just want to get some food first too- hungry."
Jin nods and makes to follow Hobi and Tae but pauses on the stairs. he looks like he wants to say something to you. Eyes full of something unreadable and warm. Unspoken words hover.
If he had to choose anyone, I'm glad he chose you.
But before he can get it out Tae calls from upstairs. "Jinnie? Can you grab one of my comfy sets from the closet down there before you come up?"
You stand, solemn in the kitchen, listening to the sound of them on the creaky stairs, the sound of their quiet voices. The creek of the house as they walk around upstairs.
"Here you go baby," you say, giving Noodles an extra spoonful of food. You know you left enough for him in his bowl and that he didn't suffer too badly. But still, his purring chirping is music to your ears. You pet over his back, his fluffy tail.
He's Still chubby, still good. You aren't too bad of a pet owner then.
There's the gun still there, sitting just to the left of Jimin's blood splatter on the seat of one of the dining room chairs. You're at eye level with it from where you crouch down to pet Noodle. It's the same one that you pulled out from under the bed when you found out he'd been shot. You should probably take it with you when you go back to the hospital, just to be sure.
"You got any secrets for me nu? Are you the long-lost prince of some cat kingdom?" Noodle chops down in response.
You go to the hallway closet to get a duffel bag, where the pack stores their larger bags and luggage.
"Hey!" Hobi calls from upstairs, muffled through the roar of the shower. There isn't much other noise in the house. The birds outside aren't chirping, probably because you haven't been home enough to fill their birdfeeder.
Probably.
"Yeah!?" You call back up, upending the duffel bag and sending a bit of loose change, some quarters and pennies scattering onto the floor. you stoop down to pick up a few of them, tossing them back into the closet with a metallic clang (to be dealt with later.)
“Can you grab Tae's phone charger? It should be by her computer.”
"Got it!" Tae's library room is much the same as it was when you left it, her computer is closed. The walls are green, the window dusty. You find it easily, the cord long and white, tangling in your hands.
You're not sure why your hair raises on the back of your neck.
Noodle stops his chomping.
The push of cold air startles you- the change of pressure in the house like a door being opened- the front door. The windows in the library room are leaky. You're used to being in here and feeling it, used to feeling that same draft every time one of your pack mates comes home.
You freeze where you stand.
The metallic jingle of the doorknob is so much softer than usual. You could almost convince yourself that you don't hear it, that you've made it up.
And then you hear it- Noodle's low hiss.
Call it a habit or a trained behavior but you still make your footsteps quiet everywhere you go. A thing learned from your years with Geumjae when you needed to be quiet to be safe and needed to make yourself as unobtrusive as possible to avoid pain. A vestigial survival instinct.
It serves you well now because no one in the house hears as you slide from Tae’s library through the pantry area, you don’t call out Tae’s name again, or Hobi’s. You don’t know exactly why you don’t.
Your house is an old house and you know every inch of it. You know this house that Yoongi’s built for you from the top of the eves to the shutters, from the windows up top to the ground floor and dusty half-finished basement. You know every creaky floorboard and which steps are the ones you skip when someone’s sleeping upstairs because it always sounds so high-pitched and it wakes Jimin up, light sleeper that he is.
You hear the subtle creek of the floorboards now, the small slide of heavy boots across the wide floorboards. A creak. Someone is about to ascend the stairs, up to where you can still hear Hobi and Tae talking softly. The shower off, they're probably just getting dressed.
Softly, you hear the sound of a heavy boot hitting something metallic, one of the pennies you dropped earlier and missed.
Jin might still be in the other room, that's what you tell yourself. You're just being paranoid. stupid paranoia you almost want to laugh. you're just jumpy from the last few days- that's all. Funny of you, to make it up.
The danger is all in your head.
Only it's not,
Because the first thing you see when you peek around the corner is the pitch-dark barrel of an extended gun.
~-~
Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 Every little bit of encouragement helps <3
Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!
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~-~
Notes:
There are some parts in this chapter, some facts about yoongi's family that haven't been touched on since the very begining chapters or jimin's secret chapters and i repeated them just so that people get a bit of a refresher but some of it feels a little monotonous to write! i hope it's not too hard to get through.
in an ideal world i would have given myself an additional week to edit this chapter, it's not the most edited and because of that i feel like it got repetitive or arduous in places.
i'm also realizing that this is like, 9th longest bts fanfic in existence. look it up on ao3 if you don't believe me. i think giving people a refresher of the begining is fair. In terms of the harry potter series (it really is a shame that no one knows who wrote it) we're just into the 6th book in terms of word count if you need that for context.
on that same vein. moonbyuls brief rant that is implied to be transphobic and sorta is- is not a reflection of my views she's just...you know...the villain?
this chapter also literally went from 8k to 14k during editing what the fuck. i stayed up till 2 am to get this done two nights in a row. i have this little nagging voice in my head that says its stupid to care about something like this but i can't help it- i love this story so much. even if this isn't the best chapter.
when the m/c has her freak out in the room where she almost passes out- that is called adrenal fatigue and it's soemthing that i struggle with as someone with ptsd. you know the feeling when you go on a rollercoaster when all of your adrenaline unloads it's self all at once? if i go through that my body goes a little haywire like- dizziness, exhaustion, dysregulation, memory fog, all of it. i still like rollercoasters though so as long i like rest and drink alot of water it doesn't affect me too much.
it's really important that you notice that no one says moonbyuls name during the moment when they're talking about their secrets between namjoon, jin, hobi, yoongi, and the m/c. i'm not telling you why just PAY ATTENTION.
Every time i think about the proverb "The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth." i think of the m/c and how thats her storyline with the family like- she really was like "either you love me or i'll kill all of you" and i think thats cute <3
In terms of why the last don and Beta killed Yoongi's parents- i think it's because yoongi's mother found out that she was pregnant with another beta and the don and beta didn't want to deal with such a divided power. They already had yoongi under their thumb and another possible successor would have over complicated things. Yoongi would have had a little sister, i don't know if he'll ever know thats why his parents where killed- he was between the ages of 16 and 18 when they died.
although this chapter was the least edited in terms of the most recent chapters- i will also say that there are two moments in this chapter- where i 'fuck up' and write things a certian way but heres the thing- they're not fuck ups and they're actually hints so! lets see if anyone notices!!
i'm gonna be honest with you guys the part where it goes "it stays there" left me fucking winded i can't even think about it too hard or else i get misty eyed.
i am catheterizing a lot of emotions writing this i am sorry it took so long to write, there is a reason why this update took a month and thats cuz yeah- my grandmother is dying. She's got cancer and She's 91 so they're not treating it. death is gonna be a /theme/ for me over the next couple of chapters, don't be surprised if I go off on a tangent or if it takes me a second between updates.
i wish i could write the m/c just a little dumber you know?
i wrote this series with the intent to write about people in realistic relationships- showing the moments they make mistakes, the moments they react too much or not enough, the way that trauma affects us all and how we handle it and love. it feels very full circle to have this chapter come out like- this is what bily is about you know? even though they'res alot of dialouge in it.
oh~ shits about to go down~
Mini-Playlist
Dominic fike- acai bowl (kinda hobi and the m/c's song for this chapter, they're going through it)
Hozier- Eat Your Young (Bekon's Choral Version) (this is literally bily's unoffical theme song at this point)
JID, Kenny Mason - Dance now (the beginning when moonbyul setting the industrial park on fire)
Frank sinatra- thats life (the song i picture playing at the end when tae and jimin are talking out their issues).
432 notes · View notes
themorningsunshine · 1 year
Text
Pancakes
Pie eyed over you - Chapter 4
Mafia - Baker AU
Masterlist                        Series Masterlist
Previous Part
Pairing - Mafia!Bucky x Baker!Reader
Summary - When a new baker in town refuses to abide by his rules, Bucky has no option but to go and take care of it himself. But nothing could prepare him for what stood on the other side. Nothing could prepare him for you.
Warnings - Implied smut, Making out, wounds, brief mention of first aid, fluff and angst 
Word count - 5.9k
a/n - I really tried writing smut for the first time for this chapter, but realised soon enough that it’s not my cup of tea. Alteast not yet. Maybe some other time. Till then, please let me know what you think :) 
Tumblr media
(I couldn’t find a more accurate gif. It in no way represents the reader) 
"y/n, y/n!"
Wanda's voice and her brisking past you to switch off the coffee machine brought you off the hole you were glaring into the wall with your stare.
Your feet walked on your own as you picked up the cup and walked towards the elderly woman, handing over the cup, a smile plastered on your face.
"Are you okay, dear?" The elderly woman, Mrs. Hudson, asked in a gentle voice.
You nodded your head and with a more convincing smile at her concern, replied, "Yeah, yeah, I am totally fine, Mrs Hudson. Just a lot on my mind right now."
"You have to take care of yourself, child. How else will I get the best coffee in the world?"
You chuckled before replying, "Don't worry, Mrs Hudson. You and this town aren't going to get rid of me this easily."
She gives you a wider smile and with small steps, carries her cup and box outside. You wanted to help her and make sure she reached home safely, but after all these months, you just know how stubborn she can be.
"Y/n, you seriously need to take care of yourself. You look tired."
You dismiss Wanda with a shake of your hand, you knew you were tired. You felt tired. But it had nothing to do with the bakery or your chores, you knew it and if nothing else, they were a pretty good distraction from what had been plaguing your mind for what felt like forever now. "I am fine, Wan. Don't you worry about me? You have got enough on your plate." And you meant it. Ever since Wanda gave birth to the twin boys, she had been super busy and the both of you hardly got any time to hang out together, but you understood. She was a mom now. She would eventually take out some time for the both of you, and she did. If the shopping bags and the skip in both of your steps were any indications, she came back for a wonderful girls' day out after all.
"I am never going to stop worrying about you, y/n. It's kind of my birthright." She noted before picking up a cupcake from the shelf.
After a moment of comfortable silence and a couple of customers, when you found yourself lost in your thoughts once again, Wanda spoke up. "Come on, y/n. I know it's been a month and that's a pretty long time, but you need to stop thinking about the worst-case scenarios. Maybe he is safe and sound, and you are just worrying yourself over nothing."
You sighed. You knew she was right but there was absolutely nothing that could calm down your nerves. "I - I don't know, Wan. That day, Steve said it was an emergency. They sounded so worried. And I have got no damn idea about what it even was about."
"What emergencies would mechanics have that could take a month?" Wanda asks with a furrow. The first time she had met James, flashed back into her eyes. She knew something had not been right about him. She just couldn't pin out what. She didn't want to tell you and worry you about it if it was nothing.
"I - I think something is not right, Wan. I think there is something huge he isn't telling me." Your throat contracted as the words left your mind. You had been thinking that for quite some time now. But giving voice to your suspicions and putting them out there, was a different deal altogether. It wasn't just a thought running into your mind anymore.
"You think he has been lying to you?" Wanda whispers, her heart sinking in her chest at your dejected expression. You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve lies or even half-baked truths and it hurt her so much that she could do nothing about this.
"I don't know. I mean, he could lie to me, right? It's not like he owes me anything. He could straight up one day decide to never show up at the bakery again and there is absolutely nothing I could do about it."
"But he wouldn't do that. You know it." She puts her hand ahead to try to comfort you.
"Then where is he, Wan? Where has he gone for one month without a single word? And hell, I can't even ask around if someone has seen him, because guess what, he is supposed to be nothing to me." You half screamed with exasperation. You wished it wasn't this way. You wished that he hadn't just gone without any contact for a month and you wished that it didn't hurt this much. You wish you could just care less.
"But is he? Is he nothing to you, y/n?" She asks, knowing the answer all too well, but she needs to hear it from you. But your silence and the slight tears brimming in the corner of your eyes are an answer enough for her.
She puts her hand around you to comfort you before stating what has been obvious to her for a long time now. " You're in love with him. "
You suddenly take a step back, running your palm on your face, before replying, "What? No, no, no. That's not true."
There is a pang in your chest that tells you otherwise. The way the bakery hasn't just been the same since he left tells you otherwise. The way your smiles haven't truly reached your eyes for the past week says otherwise. The way your eyes always instantly look at the door at the voice of the bell, hoping with everything you have that it's him, tells you otherwise.
But you wish to stay in denial for a little longer. You wish to ignore all the feelings James Barnes has ignited inside you locked up a little longer. Because for some reason, you knew that it could only lead to inevitable hurt, and you wish you could live in this blissful ignorance a little longer.
Wanda just puts her arms around you and engulfs you in a hug, muttering comforting words into your hair.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
It was a dead silent night.
The only thing illuminating his path were the few streetlights and lights of the shop that were still open.
Bucky flinches slightly as the wound on his face makes its presence known.
He knows he shouldn't be here. Maybe at work, informing everybody of the long mission, celebrating the fact that one of his biggest enemies is gone for good now, or maybe getting some medical care, but definitely not here.
But it has been too long, and if he doesn't see you right now, make sure that you're okay, even though he's the one who has been in near-death situations more times than he can count, he is not sure he will be able to breathe.
Maybe he should have stopped for a moment and thought about what he would tell you about the scars and the wounds, but right now, he was a desperate man.
As the bakery comes into view, he lets out a sigh of relief when he notices that the light is on.
You would be cleaning up after the day right now. Maybe, if he was lucky, you would let him just sit there for some time and not send him away from the door. After the radio silence he has given you for more than a month, he will deserve that, but he is not sure if he will be able to live with it.
When he reaches the bakery, he stops for a moment and looks inside.
There, you are. In all your glory, wiping the counter with a determined look on your face.
Bucky is stopped in his tracks. Just like the first night he had met you, he needs a moment to catch his breath, to look at you for a moment longer to convince himself that this is real. You are real.
To him, you get even more beautiful every time he looks at you.
As if on instinct, you look up from the counter towards the door, and your movements halt when your eyes meet the blue ones you had missed more than anything.
You stand there, staring at him for a minute, to make sure that this is actually true, that he was here and it was not just your mind playing games.
When you are finally able to get your feet to move, you walk towards the door to the bakery and pull the door open.
Bucky looks at you with a small smile on his face. Even after he had fought through literal hell the past month, the mere sight of you made it all better. It was like he had been lost into the sea for far too long and you were the first sight of civilization, of peace, of life.
But there is a slight fear in his eyes. He knows you had all the right in the world to just ask him to get lost, that after the radio silence he had put you through, he would deserve everything you had to say to him.
But he couldn't have expected what you did next.
You took hurried steps toward him and before he knew it, you brought your hands around his neck, engulfing him into a tight hug.
"James" You breathed his name as you held onto him tighter. You wanted to be angry with him, to let him know just how much he had worried you, to give him a chance to silence all your worries, but the second you saw him, all you could get yourself to care about was that he was here, and he was fine.
After the initial shock, Bucky brought his arms around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer and burying his face into your hair, letting your smell and the feeling of you pressed against him, engulf his senses.
He doesn't know what peace felt like, but he is pretty sure it feels a lot like this.
The both of you stay like that for a moment longer before anger comes sweeping back to you and you pull away.
"Where the hell was - " Your words die on your tongue at the sight in front of you. James' face is bruised and he looks like he has been through hell. He looks tired, and all the shine that you had started to associate with his eyes is completely gone now.
"Holy shit." You almost shout before bringing your hand towards his face to gently run your fingers over his bruises.
He flinches first before closing his eyes and leaning into your touch and you can't help but feel guilty for being angry with him when he has clearly been going through something.
"How did you get hurt?"
He bites his lip and slowly opens his eyes, but doesn't look at you, instead choosing to focus on your palm that's still resting on his face. "I - I got into an accident." He says, cringing at the way he hesitates. He used to be able to lie like a breeze. It was the easiest thing in the world for him. But there is something in your eyes and something inside him that's begging him to stop this. To just come clean and face the consequences. But he knows for a fact that once he does that, your hand wouldn't gently rest on his face like it's doing now, healing wounds that he didn't even know existed and you wouldn't be looking at him like that. Like he could ever in this lifetime be deserving of the affection of someone like you. And he realizes he needs it, maybe just for tonight, but he needs to live in a false lie.
You bring your hand away as his words settle in. There is a hesitation in his voice and a pang in your chest that tells you he's lying, even though you desperately want to believe him. You search for something in his eyes, anything that could convince you that he was telling you the truth, but you find nothing.
You look down, blinking back the tears that are threatening to spill.
You shake your head and then look up only to be met by his battered face and you take a deep breath before reaching out for his hand.
You needed to help him right now. If you knew something about James that was not a lie, it was that he could be extremely stubborn and he would never take care of the bruises himself. You could either wallow in self-pity or demand the truth later. For now, you take his hand in yours and pull him towards the stairs leading to your apartment.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩
Bucky very slightly flinches in pain as you put the tweezers down on the plate, his bare minimum reaction to everything you were doing would have been a concern to you but you knew just how strong he could be.
You look up at his face and feel relieved at what you see. The wounds weren't very severe and you were thankful for the first aid box you always kept tucked inside your washroom.
It had been almost an hour since the both of you stepped into the apartment. His wounds were all catered to now, including the ones on his chest and back.
He sat there, shirtless, in the kitchen of your apartment as you slowly looked after the bruises one by one, using everything you had not to stare at his bare chest. It really should be illegal for someone to be this good-looking.
You could see the scars where metal met skin and you couldn't help the pain that swept into your chest. You had gently run your fingers across them as if that would somehow relieve his pain and Bucky would never say it out loud, but it somehow did.
Not a single word had been uttered between the both of you since you stepped into the apartment. James had tried talking, anything that would make you look at him even for a fleeting moment but your sheer reluctance to meet his eyes made his words die on his tongue.
When you are finally done mending all the wounds, you keep the first aid box to the side and take a seat in front of him, still refusing to look at him.
James looks at you but is met with complete ignorance from you. He knows he deserves this, but he would apologize if you just gave him the chance. He finally decides to fill the silence that has surrounded the apartment for so long. "Sweets - "
"How did you get hurt, James?" You cut him off, looking up to look directly into his eyes for the first time that night, begging him through your eyes to be honest for this once. To just cease your fears and tell you whatever he is so adamant about hiding.
Please, please, be honest with me, James.
I want to be able to believe you, to be able to trust you, to love you.
Please, don't lie to me.
"I told you, sweets. It was an accident."
You feel the worry and hurt morph into anger. "And where were you the past month? Preparing for the accident?"
You watched as he shook his head, unable to meet your eyes and you could feel your stomach drop. You didn't want to do this, not right now. He was hurt, and tired and your heart was begging you to stop and save the little shred of hope left between the both of you, but you had to know.
James let out a sigh and closed his eyes before muttering, "Sweets, I told you. It's nothing."
You let out an involuntary humorless chuckle, before closing your eyes shut, "Why is it so difficult for you to be honest with me, James?"
Bucky closed his eyes shut and clenched his fists, anything to stop him from spilling out everything to you. You sounded broken, hurt and he mentally berated himself for making you feel this way. There's nothing more he wanted than to let it all out, to lay the pieces of his soul bare in front of you.
But he instead leans his head closer, his forehead brushing against yours, willing you with everything he has to Munster and everything he couldn't put into words.
You let a silent sob as your lips quivered and a tear rolled down your cheek. "I - I don't know, James. You were gone for more than a month and I had absolutely no idea where you were. I was worried, but I shouldn't be. You don't owe it to me to tell you where you were, you don't owe me anything - "
"That's not true." He interrupted, voice pleading, something that felt so foreign to him, but for you, he would do it. For you, he would get down on his knees if it meant you would stop hurting.  "I need you to know that that's not true, sweets. You have no idea how sorry I am that I couldn't reach out to you, but please, believe me when I say this, I would have if I could, 'cause it was killing me. Every single moment not spent with you, not knowing how you are is torture, a torture I am not sure I will be able to survive for long."
You let out a broken sob as he brought his hand behind your neck, gently pushing you towards him, your foreheads now completely leaning on each other, your breaths mingling and you involuntarily close your eyes.
The whole world ceased to exist at that moment. The both of you comfort each other with your mere presence. There were a lot of things unsaid, a lot of things unvisited, for that small moment right there, all that mattered was that you had found each other.
After what felt like an eternity, you let out your worst fear. Something that has plagued your mind for a long time now. "Sometimes, I - I feel like I don't even know you, James like all of this is a huge lie, a front that would fall apart someday."
You don't let him answer as you pull back and stand up quickly to turn away. You had to get away from there. The intimacy of it all, and how real it felt, filled you with dread now.
But before you can walk away from him, James's hand shoots up and grabs hold of your wrist. His hold is gentle, but firm, keeping you with him. He looks up and you see in his eyes how vulnerable he is. How important this conversation is for him, too.
He gets up and takes a step forward and your heart begins beating so fast, you are pretty sure he would be able to hear it.
You take a step back if only to save your heart from getting away, a meek attempt at postponing getting it broken by the man in front of you, the man who had held your heart for a long time now, only for your back to hit the counter.
As James took another step ahead and with nowhere to go, you saw in his eyes as several different emotions pooled through his blue orbs. The intensity of his gaze makes you look away.
He slowly brings his hand under your chin and makes you look up at him and you realize there is hardly a few inches of distance between the both of you. Your thoughts turn frantic and it becomes impossible to focus on your breathing.
"You know me, sweets. You know me in ways nobody has ever before."
He whispers the sentence as if it was something to be kept just between you two, his voice dripping with conviction and honesty. His eyes determined to make you believe every single word falling from his lips, which were now mere inches from yours.
He knows it's true. In all those times when everything became a little too much and he wasn't himself, even when he didn't even realize it, you did. You could read him like a book and it would have scared him if it wasn't for what came after. Your comforting words, your slight touches that made him believe that this world hadn't gone to shit just yet, that everything could still be okay. You didn't have to know what troubled his mind and plagued his nightmares but you made it all better and silenced the whisperings of his troubled mind nonetheless.
You know it's stupid, but you believe him. You believe every single word that falls from his mouth, and you realize the man in front of you was always going to hold a piece of your heart, even if he had no idea. Because he might have lied about something that you didn't know, but it didn't have to matter. Nothing else in the world had to matter if he kept looking at you like this.
His intense gaze falls from your eyes to your lips for a fleeting second and you would have missed it, if not for your sheer inability to focus on anything else but him at that moment.
Your breath mingles as he leans closer, his eyes never leaving yours.
The world stops spinning when his lips finally touch yours.
The silence around you explodes and a world of colors appears from behind your closed eyes.
Every thought in your mind is stripped out and replaced with him.
Just him
The kiss is gentle, soft, almost tender. All the things that have been missing from his life for as long as he could remember.
He doesn't just feel the kiss on his lips, he feels it in every fiber of his being.
The way his bones feel like they are on fire. Like his soul has finally found water.
Like every part of him that came from a dead star is alive again.
It is everything he has ever wanted. You are everything he has ever wanted.
he slides his hand to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as if even an inch of distance between the both of you was too much for him.
You encircle your arms around his neck, your fingers gently running through his hair.
You taste like coffee and cookies, and it's all exceptionally sweet and he wants to taste it all like a man who has been devoid of air for a long time.
When the necessity to breathe arises, you pull away. But James doesn't let you get too far, as he walks you toward the counter, trapping you between his arms.
Your lips are parted, still breathing heavily, when he leans in again. Now that he knew how your lips felt, he never wanted to be away from them for even a second.
This kiss is passionate and desperate, hands wandering, tongues desperately exploring each other's mouth, your back pushing against the counter.
James' hands get lower towards your thighs and he picks you up effortlessly placing you comfortably on the counter, stepping between your legs, not breaking up the kiss for even a moment.
He bites your lower lip and you let out a sinful moan, making all his blood run south.
He breaks up the kiss before bringing his attention to your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your exposed skin.
"James" You hiss out when he kisses that particular spot.
James suddenly stops and looks at you. You would think he didn't want to take this further had it not been for the desperate hold he had on your waist.
He looks into your eyes, not an ounce of hesitation in his eyes, before saying, "Tell me to stop."
You frown before he continues. "Tell me to stop, sweets and I swear I will, 'cause if you don't," He swallows before continuing. "I can't promise you that you will be able to walk tomorrow."
You are soaking wet, which is proof enough that you want this as much as he does, so you don't ask him to stop. Instead, you pull him towards you by his collar and press your lips to his in a passionate kiss giving him all the permission he needed.
He brings his hand under your thighs before picking you up and you wrap your legs around his waist, encircling his neck with your arms, holding onto him for dear life.
He walks the both of you towards your bedroom without breaking the kiss.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**
The warmth of sun rays falls on your face as you slowly open your eyes.
The feeling of an arm splayed on your stomach makes your heart stop for a second before the memories of last night come sweeping back to you.
It all felt like a dream and considering just how good last night was, you would have actually considered it a dream if it wasn't for James' hand laying gently on your stomach while also effectively pinning you to the bed and the feeling of soreness between your legs.
But you didn't mind. Not when he had taken you apart more times than you could count last night, leaving you a mumbling mess every single time.
You look to your side and your eyes land on his sleeping form.
With gentle hues of the sunlight sweeping its away through the window and onto his face, he looked dreamy, ethereal and you couldn't help but stare at him.
It was still early into the morning but you knew you would have to get up soon enough, so, in a desperate attempt to engrave this memory into your head, you brought your fingers to his face, gently touching his cheek, his stubble a little rough under your touch.
It is a tender moment for you. One in which you can engulf in your feelings for him a little longer, before facing reality, a reality in which he might never feel the same way.
You watch as his eyes slowly flutter open, immediately turning into a warm look when they land on you and you can feel your cheeks turning warm.
He smirks before saying, "I could get used to this."
You chuckle and take your hand away before he holds it in his and brings it to his chest. "Good morning to you too, James."
"Good morning, sweets." He leans in and places a light feathery kiss on your lips and it's already the best start to a morning you've ever had.
When he leans back, his eyes never leaving yours, you attempt to get out from under his hand to get the day started, but he doesn't move his arm an inch, effectively keeping you in the same spot.
"We both have got work to do, James." You tried your hardest to be stern but the way he looked with his bed hair and a carefree smile on his face made your insides melt.
"Nope, it's too early." He mutters, closing his eyes and pressing his face on your neck, his breath on your exposed skin making your skin tingle.
You chuckle before wrapping your hands around him, already drifting toward sleep and you feel him smile.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩
The sound of footsteps brings you out of your stupor and you flutter your eyes open.
The bed beside you is empty and before you could think much about it, a voice from the door brings a smile to your face.
"Good morning, sweets."
You turn your head towards James who is leaning at the doorway his arms crossed. He isn't wearing a shirt and even after last night, it doesn't stop amazing you just how perfect he is. Your eyes drift over his form, noticing how his sweatpants hang low. You shook your head, willing yourself to not let your mind go there.
"Like what you see?" He says, a smirk is evident in his voice.
You shrug before blatantly lying, "I have seen better."
He pushes himself from the doorway. He knew you were lying. The goofy smile on your face, and the blissful look you adorned told him everything he had to know.
When you hang your legs from the bed, about to get up, he told you to sit right there, before walking out of the room. Even when he was gone, you couldn't help the smile on your face. Your sheets smelled like him.
He came back a couple of minutes later, a mini table in his hand.
When he kept it in front of you, you gasped as you saw what was on it. There was a plate full of pancakes, a warm cup of coffee, and your living room flowers in a mug beside it.
You looked up and whispered under your breath, "James, you didn't have to do this."
"Are you kidding, sweets? God knows how many sweet meals I owe you. There are a little too many, but this is a good start.
You chuckled before leaning in and pressing your lips to his in a brief kiss.
You took a piece of the pancake and tasted it, doing everything in yourself to not let the grimace show on your face.
James was good at a lot of things. Intimidating people, physical strength, reading, shooting (apparently), knowing exactly what you wanted, and definitely sex. But cooking wasn't one of those things.  
"So?" He asked, squinting his eyes trying to gauge your reaction.
You smiled at him before shoving the piece down your throat. "It's amazing."
His smile widened before he leaned towards the plate. "yeah, I knew it. Let me taste it."
"No, no, you don't - "
You were too late as he took a bite of the pancake and gagged before spitting it out. "It's terrible."
He leaned again and took the plate away from you. "No human should be subjected to this."
You chuckled. "It isn't that bad, James."
He shook his head in disapproval.
The both of you had coffee (which was pretty good) with you telling him everything you had planned for the bakery that day.
Bucky looked at you talking and sipping coffee and couldn't help the grin on his face. Your messy bed hair, sitting in an oversized shirt, talking so passionately about something you loved, filled his heart with warmth.
It was all so peaceful. So serene.
And he might not accept it right now, but if he got to start his day exactly like this for the rest of his life, he wouldn't mind one bit.
Unable to help himself, he leans in and captures your lips in a kiss.
You taste like fresh coffee and terribly baked pancakes, it's his favorite taste in the world.
You reciprocate the kiss with equal fever before realizing you were involuntarily slipping into his lap.
It took everything in you to break the kiss. "Nope, we both have got work to do."
You get up from the bed, walking away from him.
"Maybe I could convince you to spend the day in bed?" James said with a voice that made walking away almost impossible.
"It's not gonna be that easy, James." You said with a smirk before reaching the doorway and turning to look at him.
"Your underestimation of me hurts me, sweets." He said before getting up and walking towards you.
You took off from the doorway and ran towards the living room, giggling.
You hadn't even reached the sofas when you felt a pair of strong arms wrapping around you.
James picked you up from the ground, his bare chest pressing to your back before giving you a twirl and turning you towards him.
"Knew I'd catch you, sweets."
Your lips were parted breathing heavily as he brought his lips to yours, entering his tongue into your mouth. His hands pulled you by your waist bringing you closer, before reaching towards the buttons on your shirt.
You gasped as you felt his clothed length against your core, all your resolve fading.
The ringing of his phone became a background noise initially before jolting the both of you out of your haze and you reluctantly pulled back, pointing towards the kitchen counter he had kept his phone on the previous night.
James growled before stepping towards you again, choosing to ignore whoever it was who wanted his attention so badly.
But you leaned back, adamant about him picking up the phone. It could be important.
He stepped towards his phone, pressing it to his ears without checking the caller id.
Steve's voice bellowed against his ear and Bucky knew he was pissed. "Where the hell have you been, Buck? I have tried reaching you since last night."
"I was - I was in the middle of something, punk. Is this important?" He deliberately doesn't tell him where he is, wanting to keep everything between you for as long as he could.
"Of course it's important. We have a meeting with Stark in 15 minutes and you are not even here. This deal is important, Buck and you know, he doesn't like to wait."
"I don't give a shit about Stark, Steve. Why can't you or Sam handle this?"
"Because you know about these weapons more than any of us. I don't understand, you spent months trying to get this deal. What is something so important now?" Bucky could hear the suspicion rising in his tone.
"Fine." He sighed. "I will be there in 10."
He cuts the call before turning back and walking towards the kitchen, where you'd sneak off to give him some space to talk on the phone.
"Sweets, Steve called. I have to go."  He sounded disappointed and regretful.
You tried to hide the disappointment in your voice before saying, "I told you we both have work to get to."
A moment of silence passed between the both of you, slightly awkward before he walked towards the bedroom to get dressed.
He walked back into the kitchen 5 minutes later, bid you goodbye, and walked towards the door.
He hastily turned back and took hurried steps towards the kitchen.
You looked up from the counter and frowned when you saw he had come back. But before you could utter a word, he pressed his lips against yours for a brief yet firm kiss.
"I was wrong, sweets. You are the best damn thing I have ever had."  He spoke with a smirk before walking back towards the door.
You felt red creep up to your neck and you were stuck in place for a moment before shaking yourself out of your thoughts.
For the rest of the day, you felt giddy, happiness settling inside you, making you feel like you were flying.
But here's the thing.
Flying felt a lot like falling till you hit the ground.
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cordeliawhohung · 9 months
Text
Master List
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navigation | mafia!141 | pornstar!gaz | pet!au
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Series:
Soft Spot: he sees the marks
In Limbo: (mafia!ghost x f!reader) is it wrong to fall in love while waiting to die?
Of Sea Foam and Iron: (Hephaestus!ghost x Aphrodite!reader x Ares!soap)
oneshots:
ghoap x reader: johnny has an easy smile and an aura that tells you he wants something significantly more than just his pleasure alone.
headcanons/drabbles:
Family Dinner
In Another Universe
Riding His Thigh
Keeping Quiet
Keeping Quiet 2
Mirrors
Mirrors Part 2
dad!Simon
dad!Simon Part 2
dad!Simon Part 3
Sleeping Problems
dom/sub dynamics
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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Series:
Liquid Smooth: bodyguard!Gaz x fem!model!Reader
oneshots:
Only in Dreams: (my entry for gazfest!) your best friend gets wounded on the field, and it’s all your fault.
Laundry Day: cowboy!Gaz x fem!Reader: You and your husband live a quiet life on the outskirts of town, that is until a misunderstanding ruins your calm day of doing laundry. At least your husband is there to help pick up the slack.
Dark!Gaz/Soap x Reader: Kyle and Johnny catch sight of you in a bar and decide you're better off with them.
headcannons/drabbles:
threesome with soap and gaz
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Captain John Price
oneshots:
As You Wish: knight!price x princess!reader
Strangers: fucked up soulmate!au
headcannons/drabbles:
Family Dinner
dom/sub dynamics
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John "Soap" Mactavish
series:
Of Sea Foam and Iron: (Hephaestus!ghost x Aphrodite!reader x Ares!soap)
oneshots:
Golden Days: A quiet coffee shop is the perfect place for Johnny to relax and get his mind off things. But he finds he enjoys it a bit more when someone starts playing the old, beat up piano.
Dark!Gaz/Soap x Reader: Kyle and Johnny catch sight of you in a bar and decide you're better off with them.
ghoap x reader: johnny has an easy smile and an aura that tells you he wants something significantly more than just his pleasure alone.
headcannons/drabbles:
Stamina
threesome with soap and gaz
biting
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ellecdc · 3 months
Text
The Drink Snob (part 3)
mafia au!Remus Lupin x fem!reader - 3.1k
p1 // p2 // p3 // p4
CW: attempted drink tampering, attempted human trafficking, a lot of swearing because it's Remus and reader (obviously)
Synopsis: You take Elle's advice, Remus returns the favour.
You waited at the end of the counter for your mocha to be called through the café. You were feeling pretty good about yourself; you had an interview lined up at a nice restaurant at the end of this week, you’d guest lectured for Minerva and got great feedback from both her and the students, and you’d found time to facetime Elle twice more.
The café was fairly busy with a fair number of students trying to get their caffeine fix between classes. The barista apologized to you for the wait, but you waved him off; “I’m not in any rush right now, take your time.” You had said to him.
“That was quite polite of you.” A voice to your right commented. 
You turned and raised your eyebrow at the dark-haired man. His hair was an array of curls pulled back into a low bun, and he kept his onyx gaze fixed on you. 
“And that surprises you?”
He smirked at you. “From a yank? I’d have to say a little.”
“Right,” You scoffed, “I’m not American.”
He looked at you strangely at that. “You sound like an American.”
“Maybe I’m just practicing for a part.” You shot back.
He hummed in response. “A budding actress, hm?”
Before you could respond, your name was called at the counter.
“Peppermint mocha for Y/N!”
You picked up your cup and turned back to the man. “As nice as this was, I have to take my leave.”
“Come to dinner with me.” He interjected quickly. You stared at him incredulously.
“I’m sorry?”
“Come on, I want to hear more about this budding acting career of yours.” He said as he winked. 
Your immediate thought was hell no. But then you thought of The Man ™ from the pub last week, and how surprising and nice it was to finally connect with someone. Wasn’t this exactly what Elle was saying you should be doing? It went against every part of your better judgement, but this opportunity had been placed in front of you twice, were you really in any position to ignore it?
“What’s your name?” You asked. You were met with a victorious smile.
“Tan.”
You considered him for a moment.
“Fine, one dinner.”
He clapped his hands together. “Wonderful, how about tonight? There’s a Spanish fusion restaurant that just opened downtown that I’ve been dying to try. I could pick you up. Say 7?” 
You looked the man up and down; you may be stepping out of your comfort zone agreeing to a date with a stranger you met at a coffee shop, but you weren’t suicidal. 
“I’ll meet you there.” You offered. Tan seemed to deflate a little, but the emotion passed quickly over his face.
He gave you the address and then actually kissed you on the hand before you turned and exited the café. 
Were all Brit’s this bold? Was this just an English thing? You walked back to the faculty building hoping this was a meet cute opportunity you could tell Elle about. 
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“It’s kinda smart, really.” James commented, taking another drink from his water. 
“What is?” Remus asked, not looking up from the salad he was pushing around on the plate in front of him.
“Scouting near the universities.” 
Remus looked up at his mate then, his black hair as wild as ever as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. His knee was bouncing under the table, and Remus knew he was just trying to make conversation while they waited for Lestrange to make his appearance, but James could be so thick sometimes.
“Yes, James. It’s almost as if the traffickers have a method that they follow to find young women they can pick up.” Remus muttered quietly, finally shifting his gaze up to the door. 
“Sorry.” James muttered as he ran his hand through his hair again. “I just hate waiting.”
Remus chuckled. “I can tell.” 
James made it through at least a minute and a half of silence before Remus finally took pity on him. “Harry’s so close to walking now, eh?” 
James’ face lit up as he began a long tangent of his son’s different methods of movement which ranged from scooting, crawling, shifting, and rolling. “And Moony, yesterday he stood at the coffee table and walked around it all by himself! He was holding the coffee table, but still!” 
Remus smiled at his friend’s happiness just as he noticed their target entering the building. 
“He’s here.” Remus muttered into his collar which hid his speak piece.
“Greasy bastard, how do they manage to look creepier and creepier every time I see them?” Sirius muttered darkly into Remus and James’ earpiece from his car parked out front. 
Sirius hated not being able to join on some stakeouts on account of his family. For example, Rabastan Lestrange is technically related to Sirius through marriage as he is the brother-in-law of Sirius’ first cousin Bellatrix. Sirius and Bellatrix, both Black’s by birthright, and the Lestrange’s have historically held ties to the mob boss Tom Riddle who had his followers call him Lord Voldemort. Pretentious fucks at best, but at worst they were prejuidiced, racist, bigots who were involved in human trafficking, which meant it was very important that they get caught and stopped, not the other way around. Which meant Sirius had to play back-up. 
Remus was fine with that. James could be a little annoying on account of his ADHD, but he’d take that over Sirius’ inner rage any day. 
Remus got it, he really did; Sirius had been surrounded by this his whole life – born and raised to carry on the Black line of arseholes, and he’s seen things many people haven’t. His family was awful and what these women and children went through at their hands was horrible, but being hot-headed in the field didn’t save them.
Remus figured Sirius would probably make a good police officer if they weren’t so corrupt, though he would struggle playing by the rules.
Maybe in another life. 
“He’s got a seat in the far left. It’s secluded and near an emergency exit. Reg, are you able to get eyes back there without being caught?” James asked into his own speak piece. 
“On it.” Was Reg’s response. 
Remus watched the door as James watched Rabastan. People came and went but James never mentioned a change in our target, so Remus disregarded them.
Suddenly, Remus’ breath caught in his throat. No. Not her. 
“We should try the croquettes.” James said - their code.
No.
“No.”
James looked up at Remus. “What?”
“It’s...” Remus started, but he didn’t know how to finish. James kept his eyes on Rabastan as you walked past Remus’ line of sight.
“Wait, is that-” James started but they were interrupted by Regulus.
“I’ve got eyes on the emergency exit.” 
“Copy.” James muttered and looked back to Remus. “What is it?”
“What’s going on?” Sirius interjected in their earpieces. 
“Is that the girl?” James whispered to him, causing Remus to scrunch his eyes shut.
“Wait, what?” Reg called.
James sighed. “Remus’ girl from The Drunken Sailor, it’s her.”
“Wait.” Sirius yelled causing both men to wince. “The girl Rabastan is meeting, it’s Remus’ girl?”
“She’s not my girl.”
Sirius called out the wrong name. “Right?”  Sirius carried on over top of Remus. 
“Y/N.” Remus corrected.
“Oh my God,” James said wide eyed at him. “You’ve got it bad.”
“I do not.” Remus started before changing gears, “fuck off, Prongs. Now is not the time. We’ve got to get her out of here.” 
“Easy, Remus.” Regulus encouraged him quietly.
“Tell us how you want to go about this.” James added.
Both Black brothers shouted a what over the earpieces. 
“The plan stays the same, Prongs. Same as it always is – get her out.” Sirius barked.
“No, Padfoot. This has taken on a new element. If Remus isn’t careful, he could be accused of nefarious actions himself. She’s scheduled for an interview at the restaurant in a few days.” James chided. “It’s your call.” He said to Remus.
She wasn’t supposed to get caught up in this. 
She was supposed to go back to school and stay away from dingy bars – and dingy men. She was so clever; how could she have gotten swept up with Rabastan?
No.
Don’t be an arse, Remus.
These men were smart. They knew how to come off completely charming, and targeted women, well, women exactly like her.
She was a student, she was foreign, and she was probably alone when he approached her. She was their perfect target.
Remus just hoped she had kept her wits about her; she had noticed so quickly that his drink had been tampered with, hopefully she’d be just as alert tonight. Remus knew from the staff at the café that she had declined his invitation to pick her up, hopefully she didn’t give him her number, either. 
“Do you want me to swap, Remus?” Regulus queried over our earpiece. 
Did Remus want him to swap? 
What did Remus want?
Remus kind of wanted to be the one to be sitting over there with you.
He turned to look at your table to see you place your jacket on the hook of the booth beside you. As your head was turned, Rabastan’s hand hovered over your glass of water which began to fizz.  
“Moons?” James asked quietly again. 
But before Remus could respond, you looked back up and your gaze found him. Your eyes and nose scrunched a little as you considered him as if you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You finally shook your head slightly and offered Remus a small smile before turning back to Rabastan. 
Well, you knew Remus was here now. 
So much for keeping her out of this. 
“Now.” Remus said as he stood from his place at the table. 
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The world had to be fucking with you at this point, right? You weren’t actually seeing The Man™? He must just be a figment of your imagination?
Apparently, he was not just a figment of your imagination because he was suddenly standing at the end of your table as if he was about to take your order.
“We really must stop meeting each other like this.” He said with a smirk.
You chuckled nervously as you stared at his beautiful face. “Uhm, yeah. Haha. What are the odds?”
“Uhm, do you mind?” Tan said as he considered The Man ™ and you with furrowed brows.
“I do, actually.” He said severely, before a second man with a mop of curly black hair sidled up behind him looking far more pleased than his counterpart.
“Rabastan, my man, it’s been too long.” He said entirely too loudly. You felt your cheeks heat up as you offered the people around you a nervous smile. 
Tan seemed to pale at the sight of the newcomer. Suddenly, his glass of water was turned over in front of him as he scrambled to stand. Before Tan could get anywhere, the curly headed man embraced him in an aggressive looking hug that involved an arm around his neck.
“You bastard, I can’t believe we let it go this long without catching up. Why don’t we have a little family reunion, hm? I know some cousins of yours who are just dying to see how you are.” He announced to the entire restaurant as he man-handled Tan to the emergency exit behind your booth.
You watched with your mouth hanging open as the door closed behind them and the restaurant returned to its appropriate volume. 
You turned your head towards The Man ™ as he slid into the booth Tan had just been dragged out of for all intents and purposes.
“What?” was all you could manage to mutter. 
“Don’t drink your water” was his response.
You looked down to see the table – now pooled with Tan’s water – and sat there in front of you was your water with a filmy layer on top. 
“What the fuck just happened?” you muttered more to yourself than anything.
“I returned the favour.” The Man™ replied with a shrug as he mopped up the water on the table that was starting to spill onto the bench of the booth you were seated on.
“What? Were you following me around waiting for some guy to drug me?” You asked incredulously.
“Relax, sweetheart. It’s not that deep.”
You scoffed in outrage. “Do not tell me to relax you fucker, I was nearly drugged, and lord knows what else.”
“I know exactly what else.” The man snarked back. “He would have brought you out to a van that his buddies would have pulled up upon his command, they would have dumped your purse and all of your belongings in the dumpster behind some business a few blocks away, flown you to Portugal and sold you to the highest bidder, and that’s ignoring everything that would have happened in between. I can assure you, darling, that there was only one fucker here and he was just dragged away by my mate there. So please for all that is holy, relax.” He pressed the end of his sentence as he dumped your glass over as well just as a server came by.
“Oh, let me clean this up for you!” The server exclaimed at the mess just as The Man apologized in faux embarrassment. “I’ll get you two new glasses. Have you had a chance to look at the menu?”
Completely stunned, you decided to field the question to the infuriating man across from you who, fucking damnit, looked just as handsome as the first time you’d seen him. 
“Just the waters for now, thank you.” He said with a smile which flashed his dimples, the bastard. 
“Are you okay?” He asked softly which was in stark contrast from his demeanor before the server came.
“I’m fine.” You muttered probably more aggressively than you should have. “Fuck, I’m going to kill her.” You growled as you leaned your elbows onto the table and shoved your face into your hands.
“Who’s that now?”
You groaned, hands still covering your face. “My friend, the bitch. This is all her fault.” 
“How so?”
“This was her idea! Going out with him, I mean.” You answered miserably as you leaned back against the booth and crossed your arms.
“Your friend knew that guy?” He asked somewhat alarmed.
You snorted a laugh. “No. She just thought I should get out more. Was so worried about me being all sad and lonely in this new city. This’ll teach her.” You muttered as you picked imaginary lint from your skirt.
The man was mirroring you; leaning against the back of his booth with his arms crossed as he seemed to consider you.
“Is that why you started handing out your CV?”
You felt your eyebrows furrow. “My what?” 
The man dramatically rolled his eyes. “Oh, my apologies. I meant your resume.”
You nodded your head in understanding before slamming your hand down on the still damp table. “How do you know I’ve been handing out resumes? Are you actually stalking me?” 
“No, even your luck doesn’t seem to be that bad. Though, being nearly drugged twice is not a good track record.”
“If I’m remembering correctly, you were the one nearly drugged last time.”
The man smiled at you and something about it felt far softer than you felt the moment called for. “You applied at my mum’s restaurant – the one on 72nd. She was going on about finally having live music in the joint; I saw your CV.”
“I didn’t apply as a musician.” You shouted somewhat panickily. You cleared your throat before correcting yourself. “I mean, I just...I was just looking for a job as a server.”
He squinted his eyes at you before responding. “Well, good luck trying to say no to my mum.”
“What are the chances of me getting drugged if I work at your mum’s restaurant?”
This surprised a bark of laugh from him. “Actually, your chances would be quite a bit lower.”
“I don’t know...” you said suspiciously. “Every time I’ve been with you, drinks have been drugged.”
He hummed as he squinted his eyes. “Hazard of the trade.”
“And what trade is that?”
“Crime.” He said simply. You chuckled, but as you looked back up at the man, you noticed he wasn’t laughing.
“Oh, you’re serious?” You commented.
The corner of his mouth seemed to quirk at your word choice, but he offered you one quick nod.
“But...you’re the kind of criminal to have your drinks drugged and to stop other people from getting drugged?”
He moved his head side-to-side as if to say sort of.
“And you’re telling me this...because?”
“Because” he said as he seemed to square himself, “you ought to know that before you accept the position.” 
The Man stood and left some bills on the table. “Are you safe to get home on your own?”
Still reeling from this whole ordeal, you nodded dumbly at him. He offered you a soft smile.
“Take it easy, Y/N.” He said as he left through the emergency exit.
It was only at his use of your name that you realized you still haven't caught his.
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Remus was kicking himself. He should have just asked if you were okay and went about business as usual. He shouldn’t have sat with you, he shouldn’t have confessed about his mother’s restaurant, and he definitely shouldn’t have told you about the nature of his career. But he couldn’t let you walk into that interview without knowing what you were potentially getting yourself into.
And what would have happened if you had taken the job and then seen him there? Then you really would have suspected him of stalking.
Well, Remus has technically stalked before, but not in like a stalkery way, you know? It was like...
It was surveillance! 
Fuck, he was grasping at straws.
It just seemed like the world was hell bent on shoving you in Remus’ path. And when Remus first met you – he was insistent on keeping you away from him, from this.
But you just had to drop your resume off at his family’s restaurant.
And you just had to get picked up by a human trafficking sociopath. 
So, if you were going to insist on walking this dangerous line Remus calls life, you might as well know where the line is.
He didn’t know what he was more worried about: that you’d take his warning or that you wouldn’t. 
Continue to part four here.
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