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gguk-n · 23 hours ago

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Chapter 2- The Rules of Pretending

A+ in Pretend Love (Lando Norris x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Pretending to be a couple. Pretending to be in love for the watching eyes. It's all pretend right. Even having dinner with the parents; it's all pretend right? Why would they like me? Sadly, I'm the only one in love.

Y/N's best friend, Becky, was on the other side of the video call, "every time you say that, my heart skips a beat" Becky sighed. "You think so lowly of me" Y/N groaned. "I'm thinking, whether it is felony or murder. The suspense is killing me" Becky prodded. "Well, I might've agreed to a contract and an NDA" Y/N said building the suspense. "Don't tell me you sold yourself for a visa" Becky sighed. "No, I'm fake dating Lando Norris" Y/N explained. "Who is he? Some old fart?" she quizzed. "No, he's a formula one driver" Y/N whined. "You lost me there" Becky squinted her eyes. "Why would he date you?" she asked. "Who's best friend are you?" Y/N questioned. "Yours obviously but I have to cover all the bases." Becky laughed. "What do you get out of this?" she asked. "Visa renewal and money for my time" Y/N said. "So....You're a sugar baby" Becky nodded her head. "No..." Y/N trailed. "You are. If y'all bonk, charge more. That pussy expensive and smart" Becky pointed out. "This pussy is not. He's kind of hot" Y/N said. "Oh, this won't end well" Becky muttered which Y/N didn't catch.

Lando was kind enough to send Y/N the tickets to Silverstone and explain how they would leave the hotel together. The team had booked their rooms next to each other, so as to not draw too much suspicion.

Y/N was getting changed when she heard a knock on the door. She opened the door; "Hey" she smiled at Lando. "Hi" he smiled back a small blush on his face since she was stood in her towel. "You're in a towel" he pointed out. "We're getting married" she laughed showing her ring, "Not much to hide" she giggled. "I thought it was the room service" she explained. "You would've greeted room service like that" Lando asked shocked. "No, they leave the food at your door" Y/N said squinting her eyes. "We need to leave in 15" Lando said opening the door to leave. "But I'm still hungry" she whined. "I'll buy you something on the way" Lando suggested, closing the door.

Y/N was ready, 5 minutes before they were supposed to leave and the hotel forgot her food. "I think you should complain, I didn't get my food" Y/N said pointing her finger at the ceiling. "I'll do that" Lando laughed. They got something to eat while driving by and Y/N was sat there munching away while nodding along to the songs on the radio, Lando was stealing glances, smiling at the girl next to him.

He parked his car at the paddock. The media ready to snap pictures as he got out. Lando grabbed the extra sunglasses he had got out. As soon as Y/N stepped out of the car, the flashes went off. Lando slipped his shades on her and guided her to McLaren with his hand on her lower back. Y/N's heart was beating, at first she thought it was the bright flashes or the adrenaline but she realised that it was actually Lando's hand on her back. The entire team greeted her warmly when they spotted her.

News had spread like wild fire that Lando had brought a girl with him, another Thursday in their books, but some people were talking about how she had a ring. The McLaren garage was adding fuel to the fire stating Lando brought his fiance.

The media forgot about any race related questions they had and started asking him about the mystery girl he brought. "So, Lando, I've heard you brought your girlfriend?" the interviewer asked tentatively. "Ah, Y/N, my fiance, yes" Lando smirked. "Fiance?" she stammered. "Yes, we got engaged recently. I just couldn't hide my love for her anymore" Lando gloated. "Congratulations" the interviewer was shocked. The rest of media day involved a lot more questions related to Y/N who was spending her time with Lily in the garage. Oscar had come around to the whole fake dating thing and Lily was quite welcoming to say the least. "You're famous, around the paddock" Oscar said returning from the media pen. "Guessed so." Y/N laughed. "There's my gorgeous fiance" Lando shouted wrapping his arms around her. Y/N's eyes fell on the group of men behind him. "Action" Lando whispered pulling away.

"Guys this is Y/N" Lando introduced her, "Y/N my fellow drivers, who I spend most of my time away from you with" Lando laughed. "It's nice to meet you guys." she said. "Can't believe you get to spend all this time with him" she pouted lacing their fingers together. "No no, he's all yours" they laughed before pulling him away. "Okay explain" Carlos cornered Lando. "What?" Lando asked confused. "Where did you produce a girlfriend from?" Max questioned. "I didn't produce any girlfriend" Lando shrugged. "We've been dating for 4 years" Lando said. "While you were sleeping around. She must be a saint then" George chided. "I would've dropped your ass if I was our girlfriend" Alex said shaking his head. "Well, you aren't" Lando humphed. "She's an angel and...and I love her" Lando stated puffing his chest out. "Well, if you do, we don't mind. Just don't you think you're rushing with the proposal" Carlos reasoned. "No, I'm happy" Lando said trying to sell their lie. "If you say so" Max shrugged leading everyone away.

Lando walked in, "What was that?" Y/N whispered. Lando took her to his driver's room. "They are shocked since I have a fiance with my womaniser ways" Lando explained. "Money. That's how" she laughed. Lando laughed along. "You'll meet my childhood friend Max Fewtrell too soon" Lando said grabbing water. "Can't wait" she chirped. "Also, why didn't you let them in on our secret?" she asked. "Other teams wouldn't let their drivers sign NDAs from another team Too much legal hassle Zak said" Lando replied nonchalantly.

Max was also so confused when Lando introduced his fiance who he had been dating for 4 years. Max thought back to all the times and he wasn't sure when he had the time to date anyone when they spent most of the time together either with work or just because but he shrugged it off since Lando said he was happy.

Even though Lando finished second that weekend, everyone's eyes were on him. The media recorded their interaction after he got out of the car and zoomed in when they hugged each other. "We're gonna have to sell it" Lando stated. She nodded and Lando pecked her lips. Later, "Sorry about that" Lando apologised to Y/N. "Hey, if we're gonna tell people we're getting married soon, a peck is nothing" she replied.

The next event they needed to be seen at was a McLaren sponsor's event, the people they were doing this whole charade for. Ever since Y/N had popped up in Lando's life, at least in the media's eyes; every news article about Lando was how he's going to get married soon or how smart his fiance was since she was in a Master's programme at University. People at her University, professor's included wanted to know about Lando when they news spread. This was doing wonders for Lando's image.

Lando called a couple days before the event, "Hey, Y/N. The dress code for the event is formal. Do you have anything? Or do you want to go shopping?" Lando spoke into the phone. "Are you paying?" she joked. "Obviously" Lando replied rolling his eyes but Y/N couldn't see. "I'll pick you up in an hour. This could count as our public date according to the contract" Lando stated waiting for the reply. "Okay" she replied and cut the call to dress up.

Lando showed up almost on time while Y/N rushed to get her stuff and exit her flat. The two of them sat in the car in silence, only breaking it to make small talk.

The shop they stopped at had almost extravagant clothes which made Y/N feel out of place. Lando walked around pointing at a few dresses for the sales rep to take away, "You should choose a few you like too and try them on. We'll buy the one we both can agree on" Lando told her. She quietly scanned the racks, trying not to look at the price tag too closely.

After a couple of dresses, Y/N stepped out in a satin deep green dress with a slit for her left leg to poke out. the dress was held by spaghetti straps. "What do you think? I think I love this" Y/N stated admiring herself in the wall length mirror. Lando's eyes were wide, if this was a cartoon they would be the shape of hearts. He couldn't look away, "You look" the words were stuck in his throat. "Hmm...whether you like it or not, I want this" she smiled brightly looking at him with her puppy eyes. Lando felt like he would melt into a puddle. He just nodded wordlessly and than paid for the dress.

For the event, they showed up together. All the sponsors happy to see Lando and Y/N who was basically an accessory on Lando's arm. "You're gonna have to give your best performance" Lando whispered in her ear. "Don't worry, I was in theatre" she smirked pecking his cheek as they entered the venue. Soon being dragged away by Zak. After all the formalities of meeting with the various sponsors and the soft glances and whispers the two shared to keep up the charade; they were now stood away from the crowd. "Lando, do you get tiny burgers at all these events?" she asked, her eyes glued to the tray of sliders on the waiter's hand. "Not all" he replied before looking where her eyes were wandering off to, "Do you want them?" he asked. "Yes please" she replied eagerly. She picked up a few and pushed one into her mouth, "tiny burgers" she stated with a big grin on her lips while looking at Lando as her cheeks puffed up while she tried to chew it discreetly. "Bring me more" she mumbled with her mouth full. Lando burst out laughing, "Do you love them so much?" he asked. "Yeah, they are tiny burgers" she stated with another mouth full of the slider. "By the way, I'm graduating next month, so you'll have to come since my whole university wants to meet you" she said gulping the slider down. "okay" Lando nodded. "My parents will be around, but you can slip away after the ceremony. You don't need to join the dinner or anything" she explained. Lando just nodded along, pulling her closer by her waist as the waiter with a tray full of champagne almost knocked into her. "Careful, sweetheart" he said while Y/N was flushed against his chest. She felt her heart beating in her chest, loud and clear, Lando's breath hot on her lips. The proximity wasn't helping her. He looked down and when their eyes met, she hiccuped pushing herself away. "Thanks" she mumbled clearly feeling hot.

On the day of the graduation, Lando met up with Y/N's parents who for a reason unknown to her too, introduced him as her fiance as if by reflex. Her dad was skeptical at first but Lando quickly grew on him. "Congratulations, darling" Lando said hugging Y/N and handing the bouquet he got. She took the flowers and put them away. "Mum and Dad, this is Lando, my fiance" she said as her eyes widened. "It's nice to meet you Mr and Mrs Y/L/N" Lando said, turning around to smirk at Y/N. "I didn't know you were dating someone" her mother asked shocked. "Ah yes, we've been together for a while, haha" she tried to laugh it off while her dad stared at him. At the ceremony, Lando was surrounded by everyone wanting to take pictures with him. He was the one cheering the loudest when Y/N was called on stage.

"So, I booked this place for the celebration dinner" Lando told Y/N's parents. Y/N looked at him shocked, "It wouldn't look nice if your fiance ditched you on your graduation day" he whispered pulling her along. The dinner finished without any hitch except for the fact that Y/N thought she would faint with how fast her heart was beating. Lando was no better, he couldn't stop thinking about her when he reached home.

After the graduation, they were seen on dates across the globe enjoying themselves and mandatory race appearances; giving them the opportunity to grow closer. Y/N and Lando were both falling for each other but too scared to tell anyone or each other in the fear of losing what they have.

After returning from another one of their weekend getaways, Y/N sat down next to Becky. "Becky, I'm fucked" she whined. Becky looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue; "I think I'm in love" she pouted. "Saw that coming from a mile away" Becky smirked. "What?" Y/N asked shocked. "Haven't you read romance novels with the fake dating trope, both the main leads are fake dating and they fall in love. At least in the novel you know they'll end up together, I have no clue about real life" she said patting her friend's back. "I'm sorry but with Lando's past, I don't see you in his future" Becky reasoned. "Don't say that" Y/N cried. "I'm being realistic. It's better to move on" she said. "But he's different and those news articles, they are exaggerated. He isn't a complete fuck boy in real life." Y/N reasoned. "Hey I know nothing but his fancy world has no place for people like us" she told her best friend. "Weren't you happy that you would be done with the relationship when your PHD programme started. Weren't you happy it got delayed so that you could focus on your career?" Becky cocked her head. "Yeah I was" Y/N slumped. "But he's different and I'm not sure how I'll let him go" Y/N sighed as tears formed in her eyes.

Back at Lando's place, things weren't any different. Max was gaming on Lando's PC when Lando caught his attention, "I think I'm in love with Y/N" Lando stated. "You better be, since you guys are engaged" Max chided pulling his headphones off. "But like I did a thing" Lando began. "Please don't tell me you cheated on her now" Max begged. "What? NO. WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?" Lando shouted. "Mate I'm talking from experience that when people say that they mean they did something bad. I'm not saying you did it though" Max tried to calm him down. "Actually" Lando sighed, "We aren't actually dating" Lando said. "What?" It was Max's turn to shout. "yeah, we started dating because of my PR image but I think I love her now" Lando groaned. "Tell her" Max said as if it was the easiest thing. "What?" Lando looked at him. "Tell her and if she likes you too, the two of you can actually get married" Max said as if stating the obvious. "I don't think she likes me like that" Lando mumbled.

Tag list- @gamesetmatch-me @seonghwaexile @yootvi @hadesnumber1daughter @khaylin27 @abq654 @plotpal @charlesgirl16 @inarabee @a-beaverhausen @hwalllllllelujah

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entitled-fangirl · 2 days ago

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Cowboy!Cregan 5

Masterlist

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"You sound awfully confident for a girl that won't ride a horse by herself."

She huffed. "It's a mechanical bull. How difficult can it be? It's not like the real thing."

Cregan pulled his hat off and soothed his hair over before placing it down again. "You'd be surprised, pretty girl." He stepped next to her and swung an arm over her shoulder to point. "See all that padding? Think that's for looks?"

"That's exactly what I think."

"Get up there, then."

Her eyes widened and her voice lowered. "Cregan, I'm not in shorts that are for bull ridi-"

"You said yourself it's not real bull riding," he teased. When her worry didn't lessen, he grinned. "Don't let that be your deciding factor. I'll getcha up there."

"Who the hell let Stark in here?" A voice laughed out.

Cregan's head turned. "Reed?"

Reed was the occasional ranch hand that spent too much of his time in town. He wasn't quite the country boy that the rest of them were, but Cregan never held that against him. "Yeah. The hell are you doing here?"

Cregan stepped by his wife, tapping her ass of the way. "The lady needed a night on the town. Who am I to deny that?"

Reed nodded. "You're right for that. She deserves time away from all them ranch hands."

Cregan laughed at that. "Trying to get her on this ol' thing," he said as he gestured to the bull.

Reed looked past Cregan and to the lady. "I'm the carney for the night, little lady, if that helps." At Cregan's questioning brow, he explained. "Friend owns the bar and had someone call in sick at the last minute. Ya know, Friday night, a week before the rodeo- they needed someone to run the bull."

She hummed. "You won't go too hard on me, will ya?"

He grunted. "What kind of gentleman do you take me for?"

Cregan stretched his arm out to her. "C'mere. I'll getcha on there."

He pulled her to the side of the ring, picked her up by the waist and set her onto the padding, keeping her shorts from showing things it shouldn't. He stepped up behind her to help her onto the bull.

"Put your hand here," Cregan explained huskily into her ear. "Just like getting on a horse. Leg here." When she managed to pulled herself up, Cregan took his hat and covered her ass as her leg swung over. "Good. One hand on the saddle, baby. Here." He stretched up to press his hat onto her head. "Other hand on the hat. Feel ready?"

She nodded.

Cregan grinned. "Hell yeah, you are. Reed?"

"Whenever you're ready."

Cregan moved out of the padded ring, slapping the top of it a few times. "Give 'em hell!"

Reed maneuvered the bull, swinging her around a few times, steady and easy at first. It moved back and forth slowly. He was going easy on her.

Cregan watched with a sparkle to his eyes. He studied her with an admiration. It seemed watching her ride a bull made his blood warm. Is this the way she looked when she rode-

"Doing pretty good," Reed praised.

"This is easy!" Her previous attitude returned.

Cregan snorted. "He hasn't even started, pretty girl. You hanging on?"

She scoffed at him. "Cregan, you said this would be hard."

Cregan gave a curt nod to Reed, who stepped it up a notch.

The bull spun, and her confidence immediately faltered. The hand on the hat moved to the saddle, prompting the boys to heckle.

"Woah, princess! Hand off!"

"One hand, one hand!"

She huffed and tried to lift her hand again. As she did, the bull spun, and she lost her balance. She could have regained it if the bull had stopped, but it didn't.

She fell to the padding with a grunt.

Cregan held his laugh in the best he could as he stepped into the ring and kneeled next to her. He opened his mouth.

"Don't."

He closed his mouth.

He took her hand and pulled her up, paying extra attention to her shorts riding up. As she started to step away, Cregan moved right behind her at a too close distance. He wrapped one arm around her stomach to keep her from walking away and his other reached down to tug her shorts down respectively.

She let out a small squeak to which he smiled. He kissed the side of her head. "Wait for me, yeah?"

She did so, watching him go back over to grab his hat that had fallen off her head. Once placed back on his head, he stepped out of the ring. He reached up and helped her down.

"You almost made it-"

"-Cregan," she warned in anger. "You do it if it's so easy."

"Oh, yeah?" He teased. He crossed his arms with a smirk. "What do I get if I can?"

She glared. "You won't be able to."

"We'll see about that, pretty girl." He kissed her cheek again roughly. "You know I'd buy you a drink either way."

She crossed her arms, watching Cregan pull his way up onto the horse. She tried to ignore the sight of his ass in those Ariat jeans, but it was growing more difficult by the second.

He grabbed the saddle with one hand, holding his other out for balance. "Get 'er going."

Reed did just that, only, he didn't go easy on the Stark.

It whirred and turned, trying to buck him off at every move. Cregan rode it was ease.

"C'mere," Reed said out to her. She stepped next to him, eyeing the small control panel. "Have at it."

"What?"

Cregan's head shot up. "What?"

Reed grinned. "Have at it, little lady. This turns it, this is the speed. Here, let me show you. Hold on, Stark!"

Cregan adjusted his grip just in time, the bull moving at a faster pace to show her how the controls work.

"This joystick is the fun part. Watch." The bull moved in every direction the joystick moved, pulling the rider with it.

"Goddammit, Reed!" Cregan yelled when it spun a little too fast.

"Thought Starks liked riding bucking broncos. Seen you do it all the time on the ranch," Reed prodded.

"They don't spin like this. Jesus!"

She grinned and eyes the man. "So, just the joystick and this is the speed here?"

"Exactly so."

She made eye contact with Cregan, who was shaking his head in a plea. She flipped the speed to high. "Still wanna mouth me, Stark?"

Cregan whined, waiting for the bull to move.

She moved the joystick, watching Cregan curse violently under his breath as he tried to keep up. His hand stayed up, though it swayed as he held on tightly. His thighs squeezed the body of the bull, though it did nothing to help him.

There was an attractiveness to watching him. Though clearly focused, there still was a certain confidence to him that was entrancing. His boots clicked against the body, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to catch attention.

Eventually, a certain spin bucked him off, swinging his leg over and his body hit the padding with a thud.

He wanted to be mad, but the sound of his wife's giggles brought a smile to his face. He laid on the ground for a moment, bringing his arms to rest over his forehead and catch his breath. A laugh came from his throat.

She entered the ring, kneeling beside him. "God, are you alright?"

He pulled his hands away. "You're only asking me that now?" He laughed.

"You looked good, if that's any consolation."

His brows raised. "Did I?"

She shrugged. "If that helps."

"Oh, it does." He grabbed her hips and tugged her on top of him. "It helps tremendously."

Her laughter grew as she tried to escape his grip. "Cr… Cregan!"

He sat up, keeping her snug in his lap. "What?" He whispered in her ear.

Her breath escaped her when her face was inches from his. Her eyes moved to his lips. "I-"

"You what?" He pried. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"You… You're…"

"I'm what, baby?" His eyes twinkled.

"A sore loser."

His face morphed into amusement and he lightly pushed her off his lap. "You little…"

Her laughing grew louder. "You know you love me."

"You didn't seem to be a winner either if I recall."

"We're two sides of the same coin, huh?"

Cregan grinned. His tongue darted out to his bottom lip. "You're damn right about that."

"Take me home, pretty boy."

He stood and pulled her up. "I love you. Sore losers or not."

She ran a hand through his hair. "Sore losers or not."

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mayrose713 · 14 hours ago

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Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 9

Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI

Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed

Just so everyone knows, I have an end goal in mind but I honestly don't know how I'm fully getting there right now. So I hope everyone enjoys my scatter brained chapters

Chapter 9

“Hey Binnie?” Y/n had woken up early knowing that Changbin does as well to either head to the gym in town or workout in the home gym.

“Morning pretty girl, you’re up really early.” He looks at the clock before grabbing a water bottle from the fridge having just come in from the home gym. “What’s up?”

“Could I use your phone while you finish working out?” She asks shyly. “To call my brother?”

“Of course baby.” He smiles, fishing his phone out of his packet before giving it to her. “I use the tablet and stereo in the gym anyways for music so you’re good to use it however long you need.

“Thanks.” She smiles and waits for him to go back into the gym before she decides to walk into the den, closing the door most of the way as she types in her brother's number and hits call.

“Hello?” A groggy voice that sounds like was just woken up answers fairly quickly.

“Hyuk? It’s Y/n.”

“Holy shit, Y/n?” The voice perks up. “God you’ve had me so worried about you. I hadn’t heard from you in a bit and dad called saying he got a message from grandma and grandpa that you ran away for no reason. Where the fuck are you? Who’s phone are you calling from?”

“One of my fated alpha’s phone.” She tries to keep her voice light but in reality she’s about to break down.

“Your fated alphas?” He sounds wary.

Y/n sighs and starts explaining everything that had happened, including letting the injection wear off.

“God I’m so sorry sis.” His heart breaks hearing everything she was put through. “I’m just glad you’re away from them and somewhere safe now.”

“Yeah.” She smiles through her tears. “This is the safest I’ve ever felt, really.”

“That’s good.” He sighs. “I want to meet your mates though.”

“Hyuk.” She whines at his overprotectiveness.

“Don’t give me that pup.” He scolds her. “Have they marked you yet?”

She hesitates. “...No.”

“Are they planning to?”

“Well I believe so. A few of them said soon, so I’m sure they will.” She rambles.

“I’m just wanting to make sure Y/nn.” He tries to calm her down. “Don’t want them to take advantage of you, promising to mark you but never actually do just to get things from you and later sell you to the highest paying pack.”

“They wouldn’t do that.” She defends her mates but she isn’t sure if she’s trying to convince him or herself as she now starts to overthink everything.

“I’m just making sure.” Hyuk then sighs. “Listen, I’ve gotta go get ready for work. Text me when they get you your new phone and we’ll discuss meeting up soon.”

“Okay.” She nods even though he can’t see it. “Bye bro, love you.”

“Love you too sis, talk later.”

After she hangs up she takes in a shaky deep breath before letting the dam break and start sobbing in the nest. Little did she know that Changbin had finished his workout already and had heard her crying while talking on the phone. He didn’t eavesdrop or anything but stayed nearby until he heard her muffled talking stop and just her sobs come through the crack in the door.

The alpha quickly walks in and when she sees him she lifts her arms up and he wraps himself around her, bringing her into his lap in the nest and gently rocks her as she cries into his shoulder.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl.” He whispers and coos at her. “You’re okay, just let it out.”

Chan opens the door having smelled her upset when he woke up and quickly came to find her. He gives Changbin a questioning look as he watches him soothe their omega.

“She called her brother.” Changbin mouths to him, slightly pointing to his discarded phone while trying not to disturb the girl in his arms.

The pack alpha nods and watches for a moment before leaving the two alone.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

“We’re taking you shopping at the mall in the next town over today.” Jeongin hugs Y/n from behind as she leans against the counter watching Minho cook.

“Everyone?” She leans back against him.

“No, just Hyunjin and I.” He places his chin on her shoulder. “Hyun still feels bad and said he wanted to be the one who takes you.”

“And you are gonna be under the same rules we have for Felix and Jisung.” Chan walks in. “Rule number one being, you don’t leave the property without an alpha or beta and you don’t leave the town without an alpha. You can be in town with just Hyunjin or Seungmin but leaving town you need one of the four of us alphas.” She nods in understanding. “Lix and Ji can’t drive so we don’t usually have to worry too much about it but we ask you to please follow this rule.”

Minho steps up to her with a spoon. “Try this.” She eats from the spoon and her eyes light up. “Good? Not too spicy?”

“I like it.”

Minho smiles, turning back to the stove. “Rule number two, if you’re leaving the house, even to walk around the grounds a bit, let one of us know.”

Changbin, who’s been making a protein shake, turns to the room “Rule number three, we don’t keep anything from each other. If somethings bothering you, talk to us, no matter what.”

“Rule number four.” Jeongin steps away from the omega to grab Chan’s wallet as Hyunjin walks into the room. “If you want to have someone visit, like your brother, let all of us know first to make sure it's good timing for all of us.”

“Got it.” She nods, taking mental note of everything.

“Ready princess?” Hyunjin grabs the car keys from the hook and Jeongin grabs her hand now having Chan’s credit card in his pocket.

“Yeah.” She nods letting the younger alpha lead her to the front door.

“Get whatever you want or need, baby girl.” Chan follows along to walk them out. “Get any clothes, makeup or skin care you want and need. If there’s anything you want to decorate your room with, then get it. Don’t worry about pricings or how much you’ve already gotten, okay?”

“Yes alpha.”

“Good girl.” He kisses her cheek and stands on the porch as he watches them get in the car and drive off.

The drive was quiet for the most part besides the music playing and the occasional questions. Y/n still felt a bit iffy around Hyunjin. He’s been better around her, but it’s awkward still.

She follows closely behind them walking through the mall as she looks around at the different stores they go by and Jeongin quickly grabs her hand when she starts to lag behind a bit.

“Where do you want to go first?”

“Any clothing store is fine.” She mumbles and Hyunjin grabs her other hand leading the two towards a shop and her eyes widen at the amount of clothes.

“Have at it princess, pick out anything you want.” Hyunjin smiles down at her.

“I don’t even know where to start?” She looks around at the different wracks of clothes.

“We’ll help you.” Jeongin squeezes her hand before taking her to the first rack.

They all pick out different clothes and she tries them on, some of which she was surprised how much she liked on her as she’s used to having just worn leggings and t-shirts for the last few years. But the sundresses, shorts, skirts, and blouses the boys picked out she loved. She almost felt more like herself for the first time in her life.

Several stores and trips back and forth from the car later they were almost done. They had even picked up her new phone Chan had called ahead to have ready for pick up.

“Channie hyung said the phone is already all set up for you.” Jeongin explains as he and Hyunjin are holding a few bags of skin care.”We’ll just have to charge it when we get home.”

“Any other stores?” Hyunjin asks, moving over to the mall's map directory. “Do you want to get some makeup?”

“No, I don’t like to wear makeup much.” She looks around. “Is there like a homegoods store or something so I can get stuff for my room?”

“Yeah, it’s on the other side of the mall.” Jeongin points on the map to show them. “How about you guys head over there and I’ll go take these bags to the car and bring it around in front of that store so it’d be easier to load it up.”

“Sounds good.” Hyunjin hands him the few bags he has before taking the omega’s hand leading her to the store. “What were you thinking for your room?”

“Just wanting to pick out some decor, and curtains, maybe a rug.” She starts to walk through the store. “Could you help me paint an accent wall?”

“Of course, we can stop by the hardware store in the town and grab paint.” He follows her to the curtains first. “What color were you thinking?”

“Purple…? Pink…? I’m not sure yet.” She looks through the curtains specifically stopping at the blackout curtains. “I wouldn’t mind having an artist's eye though on deciding what would go the best.”

“I can definitely help with that.” He starts to browse the curtains. “Is there a certain color of curtains and a rug you’re wanting?”

“I was thinking grey for the curtains.” She pulls a set of light grey curtains before handing them to him. “And I’m wanting a big fluffy white rug.”

“We’re gonna need a cart for that then. I’ll go get one and I’ll meet you at the rugs?”

“Yeah.” She nods and watches him walk away before heading towards the rugs and start browsing.

She finds a few fluffy rugs as she feels them to decide which one she wants as she waits for Hyunjin and Jeongin to come back.

“Hey there little omega.” A deep voice is heard as a tall alpha comes up behind her. “Where’s your alpha at little one?” He places a hand on her hip causing her to tense up.

“He-he’ll be back soon.” Y/n stutters unsure what’s about to happen.

He turns her around, still keeping her in place as he inspects her neck. “No bites? Meaning you’re unclaimed.”

“I-I don’t want any trouble.” She swallows hard, hoping for Jeongin or Hyunjin to be back soon, as she has flashbacks to how her grandfather blocked her path, not allowing her to leave. “P-please walk away.”

“Why would I do that?” He growls, grip tightening on her waist. “You don’t belong to anyone, yet. We can change that right here and now though.”

“I don’t think so.” Jeongin’s growl is heard before he punches the alpha in the jaw. “Stay away from my omega.”

“Your omega?” The man taunts with a chuckle clenching the side of his face. “If she’s yours then why is she unmarked?”

“Innie.” Y/n gasps, her alpha looks ready to kill but she doesn’t get to move as Hyunjin comes up wrapping his arms around her.

“Don’t intervene.” He whispers as he holds her closely to him. “You’ll only get hurt.”

“But…” He turns her away from the scene as security comes to break up the commotion.

Hyunjin continues to hold her as Jeongin gets questioned by security explaining how the strange alpha was threatening to claim his omega. Luckily with the security footage showing how uncomfortable Y/n is with the man,9 Jeongin is let go and asked not to come back to that mall again.

“I’m sorry.” Y/n softly cries into Hyunjins chest.

“No baby, I’m sorry.” The beta squeezes her. “I shouldn’t have left you alone, I wasn’t thinking. Felix and Jisung, even though they act like it, aren’t actual omegas so it's okay for them to be left alone for a few minutes in a store when we go to grab something. I should have stayed or at least had brought you with me, especially since you’re still unmarked. I’m sorry.”

The omega whimpers into his chest as Jeongin joins them, still angry, saying they should head back home and leads them to the parked car. Hyunjin helps Y/n into the back before taking the keys from the young alpha to drive.

After a bit of no one talking Y/n looks up at them in the front seats and sighs. “When… when will you guys?”

“When will we, what?” Jeongin grunts, still a bit agitated from the situation and not happy with his beta for leaving her unattended.

She shrinks back in her seat. “Never mind.” She whimpers and looks out the window watching the terrain go by the closer they get home.

When they pull up, Chan, Minho and Changbin are waiting outside to help bring in all of the bags. When the three of them step out of the car though, the alphas smell the soured scents causing their brains to overthink.

“What happened?” Chan looks at all of them, Minho quickly goes to Y/n to check her over for injuries.

“Hyunjin left Y/n alone in a store.” Jeongin glares at the beta. “And an alpha threatened to take her, probably would have if I hadn’t come back when I did.”

“Is that true?” Chan looks at Hyunjin, getting angrier when he nods. “What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry.” The beta whines. “I wasn’t thinking okay, I forgot that she isn’t able to be left alone for a few minutes like Ji and Lix can.”

“Did you fight the alpha, Innie?” Changbin is looking at Jeongin’s face who nods and the omega now realizes that the stranger must have hit Jeongin back when Hyunjin turned her away.

“Are you okay kitten?” Minho moves her hair behind her ear and cups her cheek.

“Yeah?” She whispers not looking up at the alpha.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He forces her to look at him and now sees the tears threatening to spill.

“It’s nothing.” She brushes his hand away.

Minho sighs and looks at his pack alpha who notices as well before telling Changbin to deal with Hyunjin as he moves to Y/n.

“Baby girl.” He places his hands on both of her cheeks looking down at her. “What did Changbin say rule number three was?”

A tear falls down her cheek. “We don’t keep stuff from each other. If somethings bothering me, talk to you guys.”

“That’s right.” He wipes away her tears. “So please talk to me, what’s wrong? Is it what happened? Did it scare you?”

“It did. It reminded me of how my grandfather blocked my path.” She mumbles. “But it’s not entirely that.”

“What is it then?”

“The alpha said I was unmarked, that I don’t belong to anyone because of it and threatened to change that.” She mumbles which starts to make Jeongin mad again as Changbin soothes him. “And it makes me wonder when… when will you guys make me yours?”

“You’re already ours, pretty girl.” Changbin reassures her as he holds the youngest alpha.

“Others just think that omegas need to be marked like property or otherwise they're a free for all.” Minho had stayed close by still looking her over to make sure she’s okay.

“Baby, just because we haven’t bitten you yet doesn’t mean you’re not ours.” Chan coos.

Y/n bites her lip still holding back tears. “It just feels like I’m not being fully accepted.”

“Oh baby girl.” Chan pulls her into his chest and lets out soothing pheromones. “Please don’t feel that way. I promise we will soon, it’s just something that’s a bit more intimate than you might realize.”

“And you said I have to take you on a date first before I can do that.” Minho gives a cheeky smirk making her pout and playfully pushes him trying to hold back a smile.

Her smile doesn’t last long though as she’s reminded as to what Hyuk had told her on the phone this morning and starts to wonder if he is right.

Chan and Minho look at each other as their omega’s scent goes from sweetening to sour again during the whole interaction. They can see her brain working overtime and know that they’re gonna need to get to work on claiming her as it seems their words aren’t fully convincing her anymore.

______________________________________________________________

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jeonginsleftcheek · 18 hours ago

Text

The sun to me

Chapter XVI. Warmth.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

word count: 2.9k

chapter summary: a garden created from the artist's hands blossoms fully when the greatest love is the one that's shown in small acts of kindness.

warnings: mentions of a character's death

nsfw warnings: oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating

~ Masterlist for the series

~ Epilogue

🪻 Heliotrope - eternal love and devotion.

Hyunjin and you spent the last few weeks practically joined at the hip and wrapped up in each other, making up for all the time you lost during what felt like a never-ending hell of a summer.

You opened up your shop again and he came in with you every day, helping you out or painting while you worked.

You also taught him a few more garden tricks so the two of you would spend lots of time in your sunny garden too, working around your flowers.

Hyunjin understood the delicate art of growing flowers and nurturing them, and you understood the art of bringing a vision to life on an otherwise blank canvas.

It was as if you were once a singular soul who got separated into two parts somewhere in another world, and the broken soul parts wandered around all the realms until they finally reunited inside the vessels that are your bodies here on this Earth.

Hyunjin made sure you feel loved and worshipped every day and you did the same for him.

Everyone on the island was so happy to see that Hyunjin is back, Bennet and Catherine invited the two of you over for dinner, closing the restaurant as the four of you enjoyed the evening, talking, drinking and laughing.

Luna was also exceptionally happy, gifting Hyunjin a drawing of him as a prince and you as a princess, which in turn made both of your faces red and your hearts beat faster in unison.

You've never been this happy or this thankful to have someone like Hyunjin by your side.

With fingers tightly entwined, Hyunjin and you walk towards the little cove that has always been your safe haven, now back to it's original view, nothing but the deep blue sea, the sky bleeding into it; empty but never lonely.

The sound of your laughter echoes on the beach as you sit down on the rocks, your favorite spot.

Hyunjin remembers when he first arrived to the island, and tried to sketch something as simple as the waves only to hear echoes of his mother's venomous words inside his head, causing him to hurt again.

You notice he's quiet, a contemplative look on his face, as he stares off into the vastness of the sea.

You don't say anything at first, only reach out to gently touch his hand, fingertips caressing his soft skin.

Hyunjin looks at you, melancholy written on his face and reflecting in his eyes in the shape of tears that threaten to spill.

He seeks comfort in you, as he leans his cheek on your chest and wraps his arms around you tightly.

"Jinnie?"- you say it gently as your arms wrap around him and you caress his head, carding your fingers through his hair.

"I called her."- he swallows the tears.

"Her?"- you ask.

"Mhm. My mother."- he says quietly.

"Oh. How did it go?"- you ask cautiously.

"Like always."- he sniffles.

"I'm sorry."- you say as you kiss the top of his head and he presses himself closer to you as his hands grip at your shirt.

"It's okay."- he looks up at you, a single tear sliding down his cheek and you catch it with your thumb.

"I'll be okay."- he repeats.

"You will, Jinnie. And I'll be here to help you."- you smile gently at him, the kindness he always associated you with is there, touching him warmly, keeping him safe from all the harm.

"My flower."- he smiles and sits up to kiss you lovingly and you return the kiss with the same sentiment, pouring all your love into him.

"I- I wanna go visit Isaac today."- he says as the two of you part and you keep caressing his face. "I'm ready to say goodbye to him."

"Okay, we can go pick some flowers up from the shop and bring it to him?"- you suggest.

"Okay."- Hyunjin nods and you kiss his forehead before the two of you get up and make your way to the shop.

When you finally start making your way to the graveyard, the walk there is quiet.

Hyunjin is holding the bouquet you made in one hand and in the other, he holds your hand.

Your thumb is constantly moving on his skin in a subtle attempt to soothe him and he squeezes your hand shortly to let you know that he feels your warmth.

"Here we are."- you say as you stand in front of Isaac's gravestone.

Hyunjin stands quietly for a few moments before he kneels down to place the flowers on the grave.

You can see that he's struggling not to cry so you kneel down next to him, grabbing his hand gently.

"Goodbye, Isaac."- he says, his voice breaking as tears start sliding down his cheeks and he lets himself cry.

The two of you stay there for a few minutes, just quietly holding onto each other and reminiscing about the man who had helped Hyunjin in more ways than he even knows it.

He wishes he could see Isaac one last time, he wishes that he at least had a few more moments with the warm man who was sort of a father figure to him, someone as kind to him as you are.

When you come back home, Hyunjin finds himself falling into your arms, his face buried in your chest as you comfort his saddened heart.

The little owl he had whittled together with Isaac still stands on your shelf, watching over both of you as you hold onto each other tightly, finding everything you ever needed inside the loving embrace.

"I have something for you."- Hyunjin smiles gently, he had barely unpacked his things a few days ago, both of you too infatuated in each other that you forgot about mundane tasks such as that one.

"Oh? What is it?"- you look at him as you sit on the bed.

Hyunjin opens up a drawer, one he filled with his things and takes out a little lavender box out of the back.

"I got this made for us."- he adds as he makes his way to you.

"What is it?"- you giggle as your heart speeds up.

"Open it, my love."- he says as he gives it to you.

You feel giddy as you slowly open up the box, a gasp leaving your lips when you see two matching necklaces with a heliotrope flower pendant.

"H-Hyunjin."- your eyes water as your heart skips a beat.

"I'm sure you know the meaning."- he smiles, his hand on your cheek, a gentle and sweet touch of his fingertips makes your eyes flutter.

"It's a promise of eternal love."- you whisper.

"Mhm. I promise to love you forever, my muse."- he says as the two of you gravitate towards each other, lips pressing together, soft and passionate against each other.

"Let me help you put it on."- Hyunjin smiles when you part.

"What about this one?"- you grab the black stone one that he gave you before.

"You can layer?"- he pouts cutely, puppy eyes staring at you as his eyebrows shoot up.

"Sure."- you laugh at his cuteness, pinching his cheek shortly before you turn to let him put the necklace on you.

"Help me with mine."- Hyunjin says and you do so, the matching necklaces pretty on both of you, the meaning of them making them even more beautiful to the lovers whose necks they adorn.

"So pretty."- you whisper, tracing his collarbone and the necklace and Hyunjin inhales sharply, even the smallest touches by you make him weak.

You bite on your lip and gently push him down into the pillows and he gives you a cheeky grin.

You swing your leg over him, lowering your middle on his, your core pressed against him, and his hips lift up into you on their own accord, hands on your thighs instantly as he squeezes and caresses the exposed flesh.

"Jinnie."- you keep biting on your lip as you slowly drag your core against him.

"Mm, darling."- Hyunjin's eyes become hazy instantly as the two of you grind into each other.

You lean down to kiss his neck and he throws his head back, squeezing your hips as you attack his skin with licks and bites, leaving purple bruises where you suck on him and he whines, becoming harder under your wet core.

Your hands roam on his stomach and waist as you lift his shirt up and touch him wherever you can reach, making sure to caress every spot of his exposed skin, to worship him and claim him as yours.

Hyunjin grunts in the pure state of bliss as he lets you kiss him and touch him wherever you want, grinding his hard cock up into you.

You slide his shirt off and your lips travel from his neck to his chest and nipples, down to his toned stomach and waist, down to the happy trail disappearing into his boxers.

"Y/n..."- Hyunjin moans as you hover over his bulge.

"Yes lover?"- you give him a little smirk.

"Please touch me."- he whines and you giggle, leaning down to kiss the place where a wet patch formed on his boxers, kissing the tip of his cock as it twitches against your puckered lips.

"You're gonna tease me, aren't you?"- he smirks as he lets you spread his legs, your hands caressing his inner thighs.

"Mhm."- you mumble, your tongue pressing into his clothed tip.

"Ah..."- Hyunjin moans quietly and you lift up a little just to slide his boxers off.

His cock is hard and heavy when it slaps against his stomach and you whimper at the delicious sight.

His hand comes down to grab his cock and you lick your lips when you see his long fingers wrapped around his length like that, teasing himself right in front of your face.

"You wanted to tease me but you seem speechless right now."- he gives you a smirk.

"Can you blame me?"- you smirk back, getting into a more comfortable position.

He chuckles shortly, thumbing his slit as you bring your face closer to him and Hyunjin sucks in his bottom lip, his brows furrowed as he presses his tip on your lips.

"Open up, love."- he says gently and your eyes flutter as you open your mouth and take his tip in, his hands gathering your hair as he holds it in a makeshift ponytail.

You suck on the tip a little, teasing him with your tongue and the way he looks at you in that moment has you squeezing your thighs together.

His eyes are narrowed down on you, plump lips parted and cheeks rosy, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.

You feel greedy and slide down, taking more of him in and Hyunjin moans as he grips your hair.

"That's it, take it. Good girl."- he smirks and you whimper around him, sending vibrations through his body and making his cock twitch in your mouth.

The heaviness and warmth of him inside your mouth drives you wild as you start sucking on him and bobbing your head faster.

Hyunjin's lips release pretty moans as you please him, the taste of his pre-cum on your tongue is sweet to you and you grip the base of his cock, working what you can't fit with your hand, as your other hand plays with his sensitive balls.

"Oh my god, y/n! Fuck, just like that!"- Hyunjin curses, losing himself in the pleasure as he arches his hips up into you, making you gag a little.

You don't mind as you slide down further, his tip hitting the back of your throat, your eyes water and you swallow around him making him whine as he buries his fingers in your hair and grips you harshly.

You moan around him and he looks down at you.

"You wanna try taking all of it? I wanna see my cock disappear in your mouth, darling."- he looks at you lustfully, his free hand brushing against your cheek.

"Mm."- you moan around him again as your eyes flutter, your arousal pooling on your panties and you desperately need some kind of friction.

Hyunjin bites on his lip again, red and swollen from sinking his teeth into it repeatedly as he helps you slide down on his length, until your nose is buried in his pubes and you inhale, trying to relax your throat.

"Mm, look at you. You take it so well, baby."- he whines and you're going crazy, rubbing your thighs together as he fucks up into your mouth slowly.

"Shit, feels so good!"- he moans as you meet his thrusts, sucking him off faster.

You keep whimpering and gagging around him, tears now sliding down your cheeks and Hyunjin can see your legs pressed together as you look for relief.

"Is my flower feeling needy?"- he asks with a smirk and you whine.

Finally, he pulls you off his cock gently, his hand still on your hair and the other cups your chin.

You cough a little as you look up at him teary-eyed.

"I won't deny you, love."- he gives you a smile as he beckons you closer to him.

You hover over him and he gently takes your face in his hands, kissing you passionately as he wipes away your tears.

Suddenly, you're flipped over on your tummy as Hyunjin presses your body into the bed and hovers over you, his cock pressed against your ass.

You gasp and grip onto the pillows as he holds your wrists down.

Hyunjin's lips are on the back of your neck and your shoulders as he kisses you and slides his hands on your back and waist down to your ass, grabbing it and massaging the plushy flesh.

"All of this is mine."- he kisses your neck again, hands grabbing at your hips to lift your pelvis up.

He spreads your legs and you whine as you hold onto the pillow.

"All yours, Jinnie."- you say as you feel the tip of his cock caress your folds.

You clench instantly, begging to be filled up as he teases you, pressing his hardness into your clit.

"I'm gonna give you all my love, darling."- you hear the smirk in his voice as he slowly pushes in.

Rarely practicing this position, it makes you feel dirty in a good way as Hyunjin starts snapping his hips into your ass, his hands splayed on your hips, holding on tightly, his cock is buried even deeper inside you than in any other position.

"Ah, ah, Jinnie, ah!"- you moan constantly, your mind becoming a cloud drifting in the wind as you let go completely, giving into Hyunjin as he pistons his hips into you fast and hard.

The sinful sounds of skin slapping skin, the feeling of his cock ravaging you, his balls smacking against your ass have you drooling on your pillow as your legs tremble, your toes curling and pussy clenching around his length.

"Let go, baby."- he knows you're there, his hands on your waist as he pushes you down on his cock harder.

"Mm, Hyunjin!"- you moan out his name as you cream around his cock and Hyunjin's hips stutter.

"Ah, shit!"- he grunts, fucking into you sloppily as he shoots his cum deep inside you, riding his high as he smacks your ass.

"Jinnie!"- you whine before he pulls out of you slowly, and turns you around easily, your legs falling open for him as his cum drips out of you.

He leans down between your legs and starts eating you out instantly, your thighs shake as you moan loudly and grip onto his hair.

"Mm."- he moans into you, eyes fluttering as he laps at you, swallowing your cum mixed together like it was the sweetest thing he ever tasted.

"You taste like honey."- he kisses your folds and your clit and you let out a chuckle.

The tip of his tongue teases your nub and you whimper.

"Ah, sensitive!"

"I'm sorry, are you okay my flower?"- he lifts up immediately, hand cupping your cheek.

"Yes, yes, more than okay."- you smile as you wrap your arms around him and bring him closer to you.

You kiss him sweetly, the taste of him and you lingers on your tongues as they dance together slowly and sensually, your bodies arching into each other, seeking the warmth they provide.

"You wanna redecorate the house?"- you ask when the two of you part and Hyunjin bursts into laughter.

"That's what you were thinking about while I was inside you?"- he asks with a grin.

"No, I couldn't think then but my thoughts came back now."- you say and he giggles.

"Alright, let's redecorate."- he gives you a sweet smile, leaning down to kiss your cheeks.

And a few weeks later, after lots of hard work, you had managed to re-paint your kitchen, of course again in the warm signature pastel yellow you loved so much, but the living room was now a shade of lavander, just like the heliotrope flower that symbolizes the depth of your love.

Paintings that both of you made adorned your walls now, except one wall that you left blank, to fill it up with a work of art you'd create together.

You weren't alone anymore, and neither was Hyunjin, destiny had brought you together, and the two of you sat at each side of the blank wall, painting together for days to make a beautiful mosaic of blooming flowers, a luscious garden that represents your love blossoming as you got closer and closer to the middle of the wall, where you had met with your paintbrushes and matching smiles, sealing your fate with a kiss and a flower you created together.

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lostbookmark · 3 days ago

Text

MDNI 🔞

MAIN MASTERLIST here

WHISPERED VOWS MASTERLIST here

Summary: You thought planning your wedding was going to be a magical memory. You didn't realize that it might make you second guess everything.

Pairing: Fiancée Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Hurt-Comfort

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Toxic Family Dynamics, Arguments, Talk Of Sex Toys, Self Doubt, Over Thinking, Yoongi Overworking Himself, Possible Food/Body/ Eating triggers.

A/N: I rewrote this damn chapter about 50 times. See the author's note at the bottom to see how it was originally going to end!

A/N 2: I accidentally deleted chapter 8 and couldn't recover it. I swear I almost deleted my whole account because I was so mad. I wrote it again, and it's actually much better than the first one.

You look in the mirror as you try on your fifth outfit that consists of jeans and a nice sweater. You felt ridiculous that you were this concerned about what you were going to wear. You were just meeting your sister, not going on a date or anything. It shouldn't feel like a big deal as you're making it out to be, but it was. You had a feeling this meeting was either going to get the two of you on track or say goodbye forever. Honestly, you don't think you're ready for either of those options.

“What happened here?” Yoongi said as he came into the bedroom and saw the mess you created.

Your clothes were thrown all over the room after you tried them on and discarded them in frustration. Random shoes lie by each other, nowhere near their matching mate. You didn't care, though. You only cared about trying to look your best without making it look like you were trying.

“I can't decide what to wear,” you tell him and throw your hands up in frustration. “Do I dress up? Do I just wear jeans? She's going to be dressed perfectly, I know it.”

“It's not a business meeting,” he comments, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle. “You don't even have to go.”

“I want to hear what she has to say to me,” you say. “I just, I need to do this.”

“I'll come with you,” he mumbles into your neck.

“No,” you whisper.

“I'll sit in the car and wait,” he offers and makes eye contact with you in the mirror.

You turn and wrap your arms behind his neck, hugging him. His own arms tighten around your waist, not wanting to let go as he buries his face further into your neck. His lips press against the smooth column of your neck. You were so thankful that you had him, but you had to stop relying on him so much.

“I don't want you getting hurt,” he says quietly. “We both know how she is. With how you have been avoiding your mom, I can guess what your conversation is going to be about.”

“Yoongi, I promise you that if it gets to that point. I will walk out and be done with her. I promise. I have to do this on my own. It's important to me that I do this on my own,” you tell him.

“Come to the studio when you're done,” he tells you, finally giving up on convincing you to stay home. Moving his face close to yours, he rubs your nose with his own. “Will you do that?”

“Yes,” you whisper and press your lips against his. “I’ll be fine.”

You look out the window at the coffee shop where you sit and wait for your sister to show up. They have various colors of red and pink hearts cut from paper taped to the windows in honor of Valentine's day coming up. You wonder if you and Yoongi will do anything that day, but you know you probably won't. It's okay, though. You don't really think that it's that important of a holiday. Last year, he made you dinner followed by the rest of the night in bed. You chuckle to yourself, thinking back to what Lisa had said. Maybe you will take a picture of what's hidden in your closet to intince him to come home that night. No, you're still too embarrassed just thinking about it.

You turn your attention to the glass of water on the table that you ordered when you sat down. It was cold in your hands as you played with it, turning it around and around as the ice clanked against the clear surface. You are not much of a coffee drinker and only drank it socially when you felt like you had to. Jisoo and Lisa need their tall latte, something with extra pumps of stuff to drink every day to survive. Yoongi drinks his black, and it takes like dirt. Much like flowers, you never understood the appeal of coffee and why people liked it so much. Maybe it was the caffeine or just the routine of having it every morning. You check your watch and see you have been waiting for ten minutes, but it sure felt like hours.

The bell to the entrance of the coffee shop jingles as you see your sister finally enter and look around the shop for you. When she spots you, you see her take a deep breath and walk over to the table in the far corner where you sat. There weren't many people around you, you thought that was for the best. As she sits across from you, you sit up just a little straighter in your own chair, straightening your posture. The server comes by and takes her order before either of you can say anything to each other. She ordered some soy something, and it sounded nasty.

"I'm surprised you actually texted me back,” she said, looking at you as she pushed her perfectly smooth hair behind her ears. It didn't seem that she was nervous at all, or she was at least good at covering it up.

“Me too,” you say truthfully as your foot under the table starts to tap quickly. “What did you want to talk about?”

There's a heavy silence that passes between you two as you stare at each other. You break eye contact, and you let your fingers grab a brown paper napkin that was in front of you. You roll it up and unroll it, over and over again, just to keep your hands busy. You wish you could at least appear half as confident as she looks. You both smile at the server, who brings the drink over and places it in front of her on the table. You watch as she takes a sip and places it back down on the table.

“Mingyu and I have been going to couples therapy for the last few months. It was his idea. He admitted during a session that our family dynamic is making him have second thoughts, and he is afraid to have a family with me,” she tells you. “He doesn't like how mom hovers or how you and I don't talk. I promised him that I would sit down with you and try to talk this out. See if we can repair our relationship.”

“Here I am,” you say, and she nods her head.

“I’ve thought about what I wanted to say to you for weeks before I finally got the courage to reach out to you, but now I don't know anymore. Now that I'm here in front of you, it all sounds stupid.” she admits. Her fingernails lightly tap a steady rhythm on her coffee cup. “I even wrote everything down and rehearsed it, but it still just comes out all wrong.”

“Just say it,” you urge, and your fingers grip the napkin harder. The ware on it starts creating small tears in the thin brown material. You were both nervous.

“As much as I don't want to admit it. I’ve been thinking about it a lot and…” she whispers, staring at her coffee and stirring it with her spoon. “I think I was jealous of you.”

“What?” You ask, your voice full of disbelief and face full of confusion. Your sister is jealous of you? There was absolutely no way that you heard her correctly. “What do you mean?”

“She was always so overbearing with me. She had to control everything in my life. I had such high standards to live up to, and I had to work so hard to get there because I couldn't let her down. She told me all the time that I couldn't let her down. If I wasn’t the best, I was letting her down. I had to come first in everything. Etiquette classes, pageants, dance, student council, valedictorian ….” she trailed off, remembering everything that she had been a part of. “I had to be perfect but not you. She left you alone, and I HATED you for that. I hated that you didn't have to put in all that hard work that I did. I hated that you could make mistakes, and I couldn't.”

“You were jealous that I was ignored and yelled at?” you ask, scrunching your face at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Yes…no,” she looked frustrated as she looked up at you. “Remember when we would go camping at grandma and grandpa's cabin?”

“Yeah, the whole family went. You hated going,” you answer, wondering why this was important. “You looked miserable the whole time.”

“No, I didn't hate it. I was just never allowed to do anything. You got to go play with our cousins running around outside in the woods and I had to sit with mom because she didn't want me to get dirt under my nails or god forbid any scrapes that could be seen from a stage. You got to go to birthday parties and sleepovers. I couldn't because she always had to make sure that was sticking to my diet. I had to make sure I could fit in all my costumes at all times. She made every decision for me, but you…you got to do whatever you wanted,” she explains. “My whole life revolved around her and making her happy. All my decisions in life before I moved away were all made by her. I don't even think I know who I really am. I only know the person she crafted me to be.”

“I didn't know things were like that,” you told her softly.

“When I got to college, I almost had a panic attack because I didn't have her there with me telling me what to do. It was like I got so reliant on her, and I was scared,” she said with a sad smile. “Then I met Yoongi.”

You squirm in your seat at the mention of his name. Deep inside, you hoped that you could avoid any conversation about him. Unfortunately, you know he is a big point of contention right now, and he wasn't going to go away. He was going to be in your life forever, but there was no way you could possibly ever think about picking your sister over him if you were forced to choose.

“What about him?” you ask nervously, biting some loose skin on your dry lips.

“It was like….he was the first thing that was all mine,” she said thoughtfully.

“Thing? Do you hear yourself?” You ask, your jaw dropping a little. “Yoongi isn't a thing. He is a person.”

“I know that. You know what I mean,” she snaps a little bit but takes a breath and calms herself. “It was so great at first. We would go out on dates and hang out with friends in the dorms. It was almost like I finally had a normal life for once. A life that I made on my own, and mom had nothing to do with it. Then he started wanting to hang around you because he was always worried about you, and I didn't want to share his attention. I didn't know how to share his or anyones attention.”

“We were friends,” you tell her.

“Just friends? You know, he never got me anything for my birthday. He always said that he didn't like celebrating them,” she whispers as she slowly turns her engagement ring on her finger. It sparkled beautifully when it caught the sunlight at the right angle.“He always got you something though, didn't he?”

“I guess,” you can feel guilt swirl in your stomach because you can't deny her words.

“I tried to be perfect for him,” she says as a couple of stray tears fall down her face. “I did everything I thought I was supposed to do. I gave him all my attention. Had as much sex as he wanted, but it just wasn't enough. Why wasn't I perfect enough for him? Why couldn't I earn his love? I was good at earning people's love and attention.”

“You don't have to earn someone's love,” you explain. “That's not how that works, and you don't have to be perfect for anyone.”

“Will you be honest with me?” she asks softly, and you nod your head as you feel your nerves kick back in. “Were you ever with him when he and I were together?”

“No,” you say automatically. “I wouldn't have done that to you. We never crossed that line.”

“I could see the way he would look at you when he thought I wasn't around. He never looked at me that way. I….just could feel him slipping away from me, but I didn't want to let him go. I knew if I let him go…..he would run right to you,” she told you. “I was right.”

“I….” You start, but nothing else comes out. She was right, and once again, you couldn't deny it. He did run to you…eventually.

“How awful is that? I kept all three of us unhappy because I didn't want to fail at being someone's girlfriend,” she says, wiping her face. “I didn't know how to deal with failure because if I failed, that meant I wasn't perfect. It was never an option before.”

“He told me he felt guilty for how bad your relationship got,” you tell her, and she looks at you questioningly.

“Did he say anything else?” she asks, hiccuping slightly.

Yes, you thought to yourself. He called her suffocating, but there was no way that you could tell her that. She didn't deserve that, and you didn't want to hurt her. You had to choose your words wisely.

“He just said that you two were just…too different,” it wasn't a lie he did say that. “He said that it would have never worked out, and he should have broken it off sooner.”

The two of you fall into silence again. You take your water in your hands again and turn the glass around and around once again. You notice the ice has melted quickly. The condensation makes your hands wet this time, and you move to wipe them on your jeans. It leaves behind streaky handprints on the material of your jeans. Your sister takes a sip of her soy coffee and looks out the window as she sits her mug back on the table. She looks like she's trying to gather her thoughts. You give her the time she needs.

“I love Mingyu. I really love Mingyu,” she says, still looking out the window. “I honestly don't think that I ever TRULY loved Yoongi, not like I love Mingyu anyway. I was just so desperate. I'm just terrified that I will make the same mistakes…”

“No,” you say, cutting her off. “He loves you. He obviously wants to work on it if he wants to do therapy with you. He's fighting for you two, and you should work with him. You need to let Yoongi go. You're not a failure. You just….didn't know any better.”

“I'm sorry,” she said as her bottom lip quivered. “I'm so sorry. I see it now, I do. I know how awful I was. I'm working so hard to change for Mingyu….for myself.”

Tears well in your own eyes. You've never seen her like this. You have seen her cry, of course, throw a fit and have a tantrum, but this….this is new. This was raw, real, and it hurt you to watch her like this. You blink, and your own tears flow freely down your face.

“You don't have to accept my apology,” she says softly, wiping at her face again. “I probably wouldn't if I were you.”

“Can I say something?” You ask, your own voice shaky.

“Yes,” she says just as softly as before.

“I'm still hurt,” you tell her, and she looks down at her coffee. “I think a part of me will always be hurt no matter how many apologies I get or how much time passes. It's always going to linger somewhere.”

“I understand,” she says, nodding her head.

"But,” you continue, but your breath catches and you hiccup. “I want my big sister in my life.”

You start crying openly and sniffle as your nose starts to run. She looks at you with wide eyes and new tears form in her eyes. She blinks, and they fall down onto her perfectly unblemished face. This time, she doesn't wipe them away. They fall onto her pretty sweater, leaving wet spots as they soak into the material. You're sure if you look around, people would be staring at the two of you crying together in the corner. The two of you probably looked messy.

“Really?” she sobbed.

“Yeah. No Mom. No Yoongi or Mingyu,” you say. “Just you and me. I think we can figure it out if we don't rush it.”

You reach your hand across the table and place it in the center with your palm up. She stares at you for a moment before slowly reaching across and taking your hand in hers tentatively. You both smile a teary smile at each other. You don't even think that you can remember ever touching her like this…ever but it felt nice…almost normal.

“We will figure it out,” she promised, squeezing your hand. You nod your head…..you will.

Yoongi was walking around his studio with his earbuds in his ears when you finally arrived. You and your sister stayed sitting in the cafe for another hour, drying your tears together. You steered your conversation to her wedding. You wanted to lighten the heavy atmosphere with a happy topic. You learned she hired a wedding planner, and she thinks that's why your mom has been on your ass about helping you so much. Her wedding planner was lovely, but she was a no-nonsense woman who wasn't afraid to shut your mothers suggestions down or kick her out of a flower shop or two when she tried to take over. Everything makes sense now as to why she was so pushy. She told you not to give into her demands and even offered to give you her wedding planner's business card. You refused, saying you were already too far in now to stop. You hope you don't live to regret that decision.

Yoongi's head snapped up and looked at you when you entered the room. You could feel your bottom lip begin to tremble as you stood there and stared at him. He ripped his ear buds out and let them fall to the floor with a clattering sound as they bounced. Launching yourself at him, you wrapped your arms around him tightly.

“I fucking knew it,” he snapped. “Give me her number. I will deal with it once and for all.”

“No,” you cry out, gripping onto him tighter. “It's fine, it's fine. We…we're good. We are going to go to their wedding.”

“What?” he asks and pulls away from you as he looks at you like you grew another head. “Did I just hear you right? You and me….me… going to her wedding?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “I'm going to send her and Mingyu an invitation as well,” you say, and he sits down in his chair.

“What happened?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. He looks at the floor for a minute before looking back at you just as bewildered as before.

“Turns out…..she was hurt just as much as I was,” you tell him and he cocks his head to the side in contemplation. “We are going to take things slow and get to know each other….without anyone around.”

“Okay, I get it,” he says, raising his hands in surrender.

Yoongi sits back in his chair and crosses his ankle over his knee. He looks at his computer and then back to your exhausted and blotchy face. Turning his chair away from you. You watch as he shuts down his computer and presses a few buttons on his thingamajig behind it. You'll remember what it's called later.

“Let's go home,” he says, standing up and bringing you close to him.

“What about the album?” You ask, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I'm close to finishing it,” he tells you, as he drops a quick kiss to your lips. “It will still be here tomorrow.”

“Home?” you ask softly.

“Home,” he confirms.

Yoongi takes your hand in his. It's the same one your sister held not too long ago. You smile brilliantly up at him. Home.

A/N 3: Okay, so originally, it was not a happy ending for the sisters. MCs sister couldn't take responsibility for anything and even accused her of wanting Mingyu. The more I sat on it, the more I wasn't happy with it. This was the final outcome.

Tagged Readers:

@mggv97, @granataepfelchen, @kam9404, @svnbangtansworld, @futuristicenemychaos, @notarshia

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi smut #yoongi au #min yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #bts min yoongi #bts yoongi #yoongi #suga fluff #min suga #suga bts #suga bangtan #bts suga #suga smut #suga fic #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fic #yoongi fluff

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acapelladitty · 2 days ago

Text

When The Lights Go Out: Riddler

Summary: Richard Madison is a crook but a strange encounter with a man calling himself Edward Nygma may prove to be his undoing.

Part 1: When The Lights Go Out: Scarecrow

AO3 Link ☆ Fic Masterlist

The miraculous release of Walter Johnstone from his asylum incarceration was not the only odd thing to have occurred in Gotham that day. Nor would it be the last.

It was certainly a day that Richard Madison was never likely to forget.

If you asked the average person to describe Richard Madison they would have a host of phrases ready to spring forth in his praise. As sweet as sugar, one might claim. Honest as they come, another would cry. A good man with a good heart. However, there were those who saw another side to the man and those individuals would quietly lament his misdeeds and misgivings.

Both opinions are entirely valid to their holders, as all opinions are, however those who believed in him were only witness to the facade which he presented to the world.

To put it simply, Richard Madison was a crook.

Oh, how people loved being around Richard. They whispered promises in his ears, slipped offerings into his pockets, and overall doted on him in exchange for the opportunity to engage. To have their needs met.

And he was never a man to deny the people their needs.

When it suited him.

Emerging from the elevator to his private office, his shoulder clicked as he stretched his arms before him to prepare for the next few hours of sitting at his computer and running his small empire from the comfort of his favourite chair.

However, an unexpected sight stopped him dead in his tracks.

Standing in his office as though he belonged there, lounged a suited man. His body was on the thinner side and even from this distance Richard could tell that the bottle green suit, expertly styled as it cinched his frame, was cut from expensive cloth. Boyish features shone from a face which could not have been a day over forty and his appearance was made all the more striking by the shock of flame red hair which sat atop his head, mostly covered by a lurid green bowler hat which perfectly matched the shade of his suit.

“Richard Madison!” The man exclaimed in a showman voice, his excitement radiating from him in waves. “In the flesh! The man of the hour!”

Reaching out as he approached Richard’s stunned position, he gripped his hand in a firm grasp before shaking with an almost comedic level of effort. His arm swinging up and down in the grasp of the madman, Richard politely let go before hiding his hand within his pocket to prevent any further touching.

“Who are you?” Richard asked. This was his private office and absolutely no one got in here without first jumping through a series of hoops designed to keep out any 'undesirables'. “And what the hell are you doing here?” He allowed his shock to manifest as anger as he roared at the red-haired man.

“Lovely office,” throwing an arm out with great flourish, the man ignored the open aggression to gesture wildly around the room, “you must tell me who your decorator is.”

The stark minimalism of his office stared back at him as Richard's eyes swept the room. His room was boring, intentionally designed as such, so was he joking?

“Look, buddy, I don't thin-” cutting himself off, Richard clenched and unclenched his fist as he repeated his earlier question. “Who are hell are you?!”

“My name is Edward Nygma.” Flashing a smile, Edward dropped his head in a dramatic nod and allowed the green bowler hat to topple from his scalp and into his waiting hands before tucking it below his arm. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Madison. May I call you Richard?”

Now exposed, his red hair was perfectly coiffed into an old-fashioned style which felt very out of place in the modern office.

“I suppose.”

“What about Dick?”

Pursing his lips as his eyes narrowed, Richard was unable to tell if this man was mocking him or his earnest manner was genuine.

“I usually insist on Richard.”

“Then feel free to call me Edward.” Edward answered. “And to answer your earlier question, I am here to make you an offer which I know you will be unable to resist. We are both men of knowledge and money, so I know that you will want to hear what I have to say.”

“I’m not a trader.” Richard spat back, the surreal nature of this meeting making his aggression feel more performative that anything. “If you want me to invest in some shit you’re cooking up then go to Wall Street and pitch to the sons of bitches there.”

“Oh, I met the fools at Wall Street. Quite a long time ago.” Smirking as lips curled into a smile, Edward flashed his white teeth. “I gave them all the clues and all the opportunities to be honest men and they chose to ignore me. And then? Can you believe it? BANG!”

At this, Richard jumped in place as Edward smacked his hand against his thigh with some force.

“It all came crashing down. The Wall Street Crash, they called it. More than a few brains came to decorate the nearby paving after that, but they can't say they hadn't been warned. I gave them every chance.”

He's definitely mad, Richard thought. Edward did not look a day over forty and yet he had the gall to claim that he was present for the Wall Street collapse in the 30's?

“Talking like that will get you locked up in Arkham.” Richard warned.

“Oh no,” Edward exclaimed, “oh no, no, no! That would never do! I am far too intelligent for that and besides,” leaning in close as though divulging some information that only he was privy to, the green of Edward’s eyes twinkled madly for a moment, “an old friend has already made himself comfortable in those harrowed halls. It would be rude for me intrude on his delicate work.”

“You have connections in Arkham?” Such things were not unheard of and Richard himself had at least one guard on his payroll to ensure that the odd piece of information here and there fell into his hands. “Staff or guests?” He added.

“Staff today could be guests tomorrow and vice-versa. Let's not judge people based on their current position, particularly when that position is fragile at best. Fantastic things are afoot in Gotham right beneath your nose,” Edward insisted, “and my associates and I are here to see what she has to offer. So much filth and rot and chaos all wrapped in a pretty package of gothic architecture and urban landscaping.”

“Associates?”

“Oh, don't you worry, Richard. You are very unlikely to ever meet them as we tend to stick to our roles somewhat rigidly.”

“I need to make a phone call.” Richard interjected quickly. “Excuse me.”

Quickly retreating back to the doors of the elevator, Richard snatched his mobile from his suit pocket and quickly hit one of the numbers on his speed dial. This man, Edward, seemed to have decent connections and money to his name but he wanted to be sure before moving any further.

To his luck, his secretary picked up after only two rings.

“Hello, Richard Madison’s office. How may I direct your call?” Came a feminine droll from the other end of the line.

“Hey, Sam.” Relieved to hear a familiar voice, Richard continued. “Need you to run a quick background check for me.”

“Sure, boss.”

“Claims his name is 'Edward Nygma'. Never heard of him before but he looks like he has some decent coin behind him.”

“Okay. And where is he currently?”

“Standing inside my office.”

An audible hitch of breath.

“Okay, boss.”

Immediately on to business, Richard could hear the frantic tapping of her keyboard as she sought out the information he needed.

“The name is coming up here, boss.” As though reading from a script, Sam listed off her findings. “Edward Nygma. Business owner and entrepreneur. Apparently considered rather handsome. Worth…”

A pause.

“What?” Richard asked.

“Billions. Christ, he could put Wayne outta business. He’s absolutely loaded.”

“Billions! How have we not heard his name before?”

“He's a noted recluse. Very little personal details available here. All I can see is that his net worth is mind-blowing but the only thing he has name officially to is a production line of different types of toys.”

“Child toys?”

“Puzzle toys. For all ages and ranges.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s not a lot to go on but it’s definitely there. Good source too. He's legit.”

Hanging up with a shaking finger, Richard could smell opportunity like a shark could blood. A noted recluse worth billions, right here in his office. He could take advantage of this in a way which he and all others had been unable to do so with Bruce Wayne; a man so wrapped up in his holier-than-thou attitude that he refused to engage in any business which would dirty his hands.

Richard hated him.

Taking a deep breath, he dropped his phone back into his pocket and started to move back towards Edward. He had not moved an inch since Richard had disappeared, but his attention was wholly focused on something which was clutched between his hands. As he approached, the flash of the brightly-coloured item in Edward's palm also drew Richard's attention and he squinted as though a sharp light had accosted him.

“What's in your hands?”

Rolling the offending object between his fingers with a practised ease, Edward brought it into the space between them.

“This?” He asked. “A curious little thing. I am very fond of puzzles and I haven't seen anything quite like this before.”

Recognising the piece, Richard squinted once again.

“A rubix's cube?” He asked, incredulous.

Who is their right mind had never seen a Rubix cube before?

“Rubix cube.” Edward repeated with a look of contemplation. “After the man who created it?”

“I guess.” Confused as to what exact relevance the puzzle held to the current discussion, Richard gestured vaguely with his hands. “I don't know what this has to do with-”

“Oh, of course! Of course!” Exclaiming loudly, Edward slapped a hand good-naturedly on his knee as he smiled. “Excuse my ramblings but you must forgive an old man his pleasures.”

“Would you like a drink?”

“Watered down whisky doesn’t agree with me, Dick,” Edward declined. “And I would think a man like yourself would want to watch his health. The liver can be a tricky old thing, especially six years down the line.”

“So, what can I do for you, Mr. Nygma? I doubt this is a social call since we don’t, uh, know each other.”

“I have an opportunity which you would be a damned fool to pass up on. A new line of puzzle and magic toys, fabricated and distributed across Gotham and her sister cities.”

With Edward waving his hand around, Richard was able to catch a glimpse of his watch and found himself momentarily stunned by the beautiful timepiece and the various gemstones which were embedded within.

“Toys? Just toys? Surely we cou-”

“I have meetings today with others, including a meeting with a very interesting man named Wayne who seems to have taken a liking to my products,” Edward grinned.

Richard’s chest clenched with anger at the familiar name and he immediately backpeddled on his scepticism, “That won’t be necessary. I would love to enter into a business deal with you, Mr. Nygma. I hear you have quite the reputation.”

“I’m certain I do,” Edward replied, “and I would like to bring you onboard before I return to my other duties. $10 million would suffice as a minor investment, one which would see major returns.”

Wincing at the amount but desperate to keep the vaguely gullible and eccentric billionaire within his grasp, greed already blinding his thoughts as he imagines various ways of involving the fool with his less pleasant ventures, Richard nodded at the proposed amount.

The conversation flowed smoothly after that, discussions of timescales and proposed returns forcing Richard into the belief that he was making a smart choice. His mind focused despite the whirling nature of Edward’s demeanour; Richard felt the thrill of his greed thrumming in his veins as he catered to his latest potential cash cow.

“So, do we have a deal, Dick?”

Extending his hand with a showman smile, Edward allowed it to hang in the air between them with a sense of finality.

Willing to ignore the nickname this one time, Richard nodded once more and accepted the handshake before dropping his hand to his inner pocket. Mobile phone in hand, it took Richard less than five minutes to have the investment money wired over to Edward’s accounts – ensuring that he retained a firm copy of all Edward’s account details should anything go awry with their deal.

“This account is one of my more selective accounts and I would appreciate its use being kept on the quieter side of things. I am sure you understand,” Richard muttered with a put-on smile.

“Of course, of course! My lips are sealed.” Edward winked, placing his bowler hat atop his head with a dramatic flourish. “A silent account for a silent partner.”

His smirk actually blossoming into a genuine smile, Richard took the initiative to end their meeting.

“A pleasure, Mr Nygma. I hope to work with you again.”

Tilting his head with a wicked smirk of his own, Edward answered in kind.

“I’m sure you’ll think of our partnership often.”

x-x-x-x-x

Stepping into the familiar office of Salvatore Maroni, Richard inclined his head to the goons who remained on guard as he joined both the owner of the office and their mutual friend, Daniel Mockingbird, by taking a seat on the only available chair.

“Evening, boys. Pour me a decent one, eh, Sal?” Richard asked, inclining his empty whisky glass to Maroni. A glass which was quickly filled with amber liquid as the man in question poured him a healthy slosh of scotch.

“You’re chipy as fuck today, Richard. Balls finally drop?” Mockingbird cut in, his thick Italian accent glossing over the words with ease.

“Funny,” Richard deadpanned as he sank a gulp of the scotch, “but anyway, how has your week been gentlemen?”

“Great, I got me a new business partner and I think he’s going to be one for the books, boys,” sipping from his own glass, Maroni appeared pleased with himself as he divulged his luck to the other two.

Surprised, given his own unmade announcement, Richard inclined his hand to Maroni as he indicated for him to continue.

“Yeah, some fucking freak. Came here to ask me to partner on an investment deal for some shitty kids toys and-”

“Bullshit!” Mockingbird called out, surprising both men at the outburst. “You met with Nygma too?”

Open shock playing on his face as he watched the two speak, Richard dropped his hands to his lap as his head darted between the two like a tennis match.

“Yeah. Showed up here asking for $10 million.” Maroni confirmed.

“Fuck! Same from me.”

“Same, huh? For the toy business?”

“Yeah, for the fucking toy business. He didn’t say nothing about having other partners.” Running a hand through his slickened hair, Mockingbird was clearly unimpressed with the fact that his great deal had not been as exclusive as he thought. “Jesus Christ man, $20 million from us both. Sneaky fuc-”

“$30 million,” Richard intercut with a frown. “I also received a visitor yesterday.”

Genuinely speechless, all three men grumbled their discontent into their glasses as they observed the others with open suspicion. Their friendship was tenuous, agreements always being settled under the table to ensure that the dirt they could hold over each other was limited, and an event like this would only breed discontent.

Unable to muse for too long as his phone started vibrating madly in his pocket, Richard pulled it free with a gruff greeting as he pressed it against his ear.

“Mr. Madison, we have a problem.”

Sam. Sounding thoroughly distraught as her voice stuttered across the words.

“What is it?” Richard asked, a sinking feeling dropping his chest into his stomach.

“It’s gone, Sir. Everything. All the money from the secret account.”

His heart stuttering at the information, Richard barely noticed when both Maroni and Mockingbird picked up their own ringing mobiles.

“What the fuck do you mean it’s gone?”

“The account is empty, Sir. The $10 million transferred through to the Nygma account but the rest has disappeared. It’s gone, Sir.”

“No, no-NO!” Richard snapped, snarling his words down the phone. “You find me that money, Sam. Find it and get it back. Hunt down that fuck Nygma if you need to because I think he has something to do with it.”

Slamming his phone shut, his heart pounding in his ears as his blood pressure reached new levels, Richard zoned back into his companions to find that all hell had broken loose across both men. Maroni’s face was a stunning shade of puce as he screamed insults into his mobile while Mockingbird was speaking in Italian at record speed, his expression equally as angry.

Allowing both men the time to finish their phone calls as they went through a similar disbelieving anger to himself, Richard understood without a doubt that they had all been swindled in a similar fashion.

“What the fuck is happening?” Mockingbird hissed, throwing his glass to the floor as the scotch splashed across the carpet. “One of my private accounts has been tanked! Gutted! Fucking robbed!”

Maroni pulled his lips back into a snarl, “Same here! Fuck! The account I used yesterday. That sneaky fuck Nygma is behind this and I’m going to find him, boys.”

“Pull our resources! I’m going to kill that red-haired fuck.” Richard added with a roar.

“Red hair?” Mockingbird face was confused despite the rage, “You mean black hair? Short little fucker too, only about 5ft? Weasley as fuck.”

“What?” Squinting, Richard shook his head. “No. He was wiry with red hair, probably about my height and thin as an addicts piss. Sal?”

His voice so low that both men struggled to pick up on his exact words, Maroni growled his own description.

“Brown hair. Slicked back. Slight build on him. Had a stupid cane with him. I even got the bastard on record.”

Snatching out a voice recorder from a nearby desk drawer, Maroni fiddled with it before clicking play on the recorder as all three men stared at it with narrowed eyes.

“-an excellent choice, Mr Maroni! I admire your taste in being able to pick up on a good deal when it comes your way. So, let’s get down to business and I can be on my way. Shall we say around $10 million as an investment? With that I cou-”

His heart racing at the familiar voice, Richard saw a similar look of rage on Mockingbirds’ face as he listened to the recording.

“That’s him!” Mockingbird grunted, his fists clenched against his lap. “That’s the smart-mouthed cunt.”

“How the fuck can that be the same man we all met?” Richard asked reasonably, rage giving way to confusion. “Sure, he could wear a wig or change his clothes, but his height? He wasn’t a fucking magician. This shouldn’t be a fucking riddle. How much did he take from you?”

Directing the question to both men, the grave looks he received in response no doubt mirrored his own. If their loss was as great as his own then they were looking at an easy collective loss of over a hundred million. A hundred million dollars, gone in a puff of smoke.

All dirty.

All untraceable.

As it was designed to be.

It was a perfect theft.

“Play the bastards voice again, Sal.” Mockingbird hissed. “I want it committed to memory so I can remember to have his tongue ripped out when we catch the prick.”

Thick fingers pressing the play button of the audio recorder, Maroni startled in place as the casual conversation which had previously been loaded on the device was replaced by a loud, cackling laughter – the rising cacophony of Edward’s mirth making all three men shiver in place as something dark curled around the joyful sound and rattled them to their cores.

Richard Madison was a crook, but he was no fool, and, as Mockingbird fixed himself with the sign of the cross, Richard could not shake the furious anxiety which seared in his chest as he realised that something evil had held counsel with him in his office yesterday and that his money was gone somewhere he did not dare to follow.

#i dont normally ask but please read this and lemme know what ye think! I know its not smutty or shippy but a lot of love has went into this #riddler #edward nygma #edward nashton #writing #dc comics #edward nigma #gotham rogues #the riddler #riddler fic

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ducktoo · 4 hours ago

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Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

Side 4. Ning Ning Noodle

Note: a wacky finale to the side stories

Masterlist here

This took place a few days after Chapter 15

On a bright, bustling Saturday afternoon, Y/n was blissfully asleep in his bed, dreaming of a peaceful weekend. The warm sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow in the room. Suddenly, the door swung open, and in came Ningning, full of energy and a mischievous grin.

“Y/n! Get up! It’s time for adventure!” she exclaimed, marching over to his bed. Before he could even respond, she yanked the covers off him, leaving him exposed to the cool air.

“Ya! What the—?” he groaned, squinting at the sudden light. “Ning, it’s too early for this!”

“It’s not early! It’s almost noon!” she protested, her enthusiasm undeterred. “And I’ve been waiting all week for us to go shopping!”

Y/n rubbed his eyes, feeling a sense of déjà vu. “This feels oddly familiar. Didn’t you do this last time you got sick?”

“Exactly!” she said, her voice bubbling with excitement. “But this time, I have a whole plan! We’re going to explore Seoul’s hidden spots, starting with my favourite record store and a retro café!”

He sat up, still fighting off the remnants of sleep. “A record store? You know I can’t keep up with your bubbliness.”

Ningning placed her hands on her hips, feigning seriousness. “You don’t have a choice! Besides, you can’t say no to me dragging you out of bed when it’s a beautiful day outside.”

“Fine, but I expect at least one coffee stop during this ‘adventure,’” he relented, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “Give me a minute to wake up properly.”

“Okay, but hurry! I want to get to the shops before all the good stuff is gone!” she urged, bouncing on her heels. “Also, wear something cute! We have to look good for all the Instagram posts!”

He chuckled, shaking his head at her boundless enthusiasm. “Sure, let me just throw on something that will make me look like an icon,” he joked, heading to his closet.

As he rummaged through his clothes, Ningning waited impatiently, tapping her foot. “You know, if you don’t hurry, I might have to drag you out of the house in your undies!”

“DON'T YOU DARE, YIZHUO!” Y/n called back, finally finding a decent outfit that wouldn’t make him look like he just rolled out of bed—again.

Once he was dressed, Ningning practically bounced out of the dorm, her excitement infectious. “See? Wasn’t that easy? Now let’s go make some memories!”

With a resigned smile, Y/n followed her out into the bustling streets of Seoul, a sense of anticipation building within him. “Okay, let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into today,” he said, shaking his head in mock defeat.

The sun shone brightly, and the streets were alive with energy. Ningning’s enthusiasm was palpable as she skipped ahead, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“We’re going to have the best day ever!” she exclaimed, glancing back at him with a huge smile. “I have so many hidden spots to show you!”

Y/n chuckled, already feeling slightly out of his depth. “Are you sure I’m dressed for this?” He gestured at his simple outfit—jeans and a hoodie—definitely not as runway-ready as the pieces Ningning was eyeing.

“Don’t worry! We’ll fix that,” she said with a grin, pulling him toward the first shop. “Come on, just trust me!”

The first stop was a quirky boutique, filled with bright colors and funky styles. Ningning’s energy was infectious as she flitted from rack to rack, holding up dresses and blouses with wild patterns. “Look at this one! It’s so cute!” she squealed, holding up a pink polka-dot dress.

Y/n laughed, shaking his head. “You’d look great in that, but I’m not sure it’s my style.”

“Don’t be such a baby! You have to try something on!” Ningning insisted, pushing him toward the fitting room. “I promise it’ll be fun!”

“Alright, alright!” he relented, stepping into the changing room. He pulled on a bright, oversized sweater that was at least two sizes too big, then reluctantly emerged. “How do I look?” he asked, trying to strike a pose.

Ningning burst into laughter, doubling over at the sight. “Oh my god! You look like you’re ready for a fashion disaster runway show!”

“Nice, so on brand of me,” he replied dryly, but a smile crept onto his face. He couldn’t help but enjoy her playful spirit.

As they moved on to the next store, Ningning continued to pick out outrageous items for him to try. “How about this?” She held up a pair of glittery pants. “You have to wear these!”

“Are you trying to ruin my fashion reputation?” he joked, but the sparkle in her eyes made it hard to resist.

“Fashion reputation? What reputation?” she teased back. “You’re lucky I’m here to give you a makeover to flex Minjeong-unnie!”

Hearing his childhood friend's name being used as blackmail, Y/n could only glare at the youngest. "You…."

The two spent the next half-hour in a hilarious fashion montage, with Ningning constantly pushing him out of his comfort zone. At one point, she handed him a fuzzy, neon-green bucket hat, and he couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous it looked. “You look like you just stepped off Zimzalabim!” she exclaimed.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to wear this,” Y/n said, shaking his head, but he wore it with a grin.

After a particularly embarrassing outfit reveal, Y/n pulled off the bucket hat and said, “Okay, I’m officially done. I think I’ve tried on more outfits than I’ve worn in my entire life!”

“Not until you try this last one!” Ningning exclaimed, her eyes gleaming. She handed him a metallic jacket that looked straight out of a sci-fi movie.

He sighed but went back to the changing room. The moment he stepped out, Ningning clapped her hands. “Yes! Now you look like a true fashion icon!”

“Fashion icon or fashion failure?” Y/n smirked, spinning around awkwardly. “I can’t tell anymore.”

“Fashion icon!” she insisted. “Let’s take a selfie!” They posed together, with Y/n wearing the jacket and bucket hat, and Ningning pulling a playful face next to him.

After an exhausting yet entertaining session of trying on clothes, Ningning declared it was bubble tea time. “Ok, I know a place with the best bubble tea in the area. We need to recharge!”

They walked into a cozy bubble tea shop, the smell of sweet drinks wafting through the air. As they waited for their orders, Ningning started playing with her phone, flipping through pictures of their day. “Look at how cute we are!” she exclaimed, showing him a shot of them posing with silly outfits.

“Yeah, cute or ridiculous?” he laughed, scrolling through the photos. “I’ll have to hack a way to delete this!”

Ningning rolled her eyes. “Never! This is going in the friendship hall of fame. Besides, you looked kind of adorable in the bucket hat!”

“Adorable? You might want to reconsider that word,” he replied, raising an eyebrow.

“I'm just saying it in Minjeong-unnie's shoes,” she amended, giggling.

"No, she would actually laugh her butt off if she saw me right now."

Once they received their drinks, they settled at a window seat, watching the bustling city life outside. Y/n took a sip of his taro milk tea, savouring the sweetness. “This is amazing,” he said, his eyes lighting up.

“Right? I love this place! It’s a hidden gem,” Ningning said, tapping her straw against her cup. “But honestly, I really appreciate you spending the day with me. It’s nice to take a break from everything.”

“Of course, Ning. You know I’m always here for you,” Y/n replied earnestly, leaning back in his chair. “Plus, this was surprisingly fun.”

Ningning looked thoughtful for a moment, her expression softening. “You’re one of the few people who understands the weirdness of my life. I’m grateful for that. I can be all over the place sometimes, and you keep me grounded.”

Y/n smiled, feeling warmth at her words. “That’s what siblings are for, right? To balance each other out.”

“Exactly!” She raised her cup for a toast. “To sibling hood and bubble tea!”

“To sibling hood and bubble tea!” he echoed, clinking his cup against hers.

After a brief silence, Ningning added, “You know, I hope you never change. You bring a lot of positivity and stability, especially when I feel like I’m just bouncing everywhere.”

“You DO bounce a lot, but thanks, Ning.” Y/n said sincerely, glancing at her. “I just want to be someone you can rely on, no matter how rowdy you guys get.”

She grinned, a playful sparkle returning to her eyes. “Well, as long as you’re willing to keep trying on crazy outfits with me, I think we’re good!”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I think I’ve reached my limit for the year on that front.”

“Okay, okay! But I’ll hold you to that if I ever need a wardrobe change again!” she teased.

They shared a comfortable silence for a moment, enjoying their drinks and the pleasant atmosphere around them. The bustling city outside seemed to fade away as they revelled in their friendship and the laughter they shared.

“Hey, do you think you could take a picture of me with my bubble tea? I need to show off my amazing taste!” Ningning suddenly said, striking a pose with her drink.

Y/n chuckled, snapping the photo. “You’re practically a professional model with all these poses.”

“Thanks! I’ll take that as a compliment.” She grinned, glancing at the picture. “Okay, now you have to show me a pose! You can’t just stand there looking cool!”

“Right, because I’m not the star of this show,” he said, crossing his arms dramatically.

“Exactly! Come on!” Ningning encouraged, gesturing for him to join her. “Let’s make this day memorable!”

Y/n sighed dramatically before pretending to strut like a runway model, pulling off the metallic jacket with an exaggerated flair. Ningning burst into laughter, clapping her hands. “Yes! Now you’re getting it!”

After a whirlwind day of shopping, laughter, and lots of bubble tea, Y/n and Ningning returned to their dorm, both buzzing with excitement. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.

“I can’t believe you bought me that giant panda hat!” Y/n said, still wearing the oversized accessory, which Ningning had insisted he model before she purchased it.

“Of course! You look adorable! It’ll be perfect for our next fan meet!” Ningning laughed, playfully tugging at one of the panda’s ears.

As they settled into the living room, Y/n glanced at Ningning, who had sprawled out on the couch, still buzzing from their day out. “Hey, you know how you said you missed home-cooked meals when you were sick? How about I try to make one of your favourite dishes tonight?”

Ningning’s eyes lit up. “Really? You want to cook? That would be amazing! What are you thinking of making?”

Y/n scratched his head, trying to remember what Ningning had mentioned before. “Um, what was that dish you said you loved from back home? The one with noodles and… chicken? Or was it beef?”

“Are you talking about my mom’s dan dan noodles?” Ningning asked, sitting up straight. “Oh my gosh, I’d love that! It’s spicy, savoury, and so comforting!”

“Dan dan noodles it is!” Y/n exclaimed, feeling a rush of determination. “Alright, I’ll do my best. You just have to help me with the ingredients.”

After the excitement of cooking dan dan noodles started to simmer down, Y/n noticed a hint of uncertainty in Ningning’s eyes as she stirred the pot. “Uh, Ningning? Are you sure we’re doing this right? It feels… off.”

Ningning frowned, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, I remember the basics, but I’m not sure I got every detail right. Maybe I should call my mom for her secret tips!”

“Good thinking, Ning!” Y/n replied, grateful for her initiative. “I could use some reliable advice”

“Am I not reliable?” Ningning pouted.

“…nice try, but no”

Ningning quickly grabbed her phone and dialled her mom, her expression shifting from casual to focused as the call connected. “Hi, Mom! It’s me,” she said, her voice brightening. “I’m trying to make dan dan noodles, but I need your help. Can you walk us through it?”

Y/n watched as Ningning spoke in rapid Chinese, her animated gestures painting a picture of what they were doing in the kitchen. After a few moments, she turned to Y/n, her eyes wide with excitement. “Okay, she’s going to help us! Just follow my lead!”

“Hell yeah! Let’s do this!” Y/n said, feeling pumped.

“First,” Ningning translated, “we need to make sure the sauce is mixed properly. My mom said the ratio is important. We need two tablespoons of soy sauce, one tablespoon of sesame paste, and—”

Before she could finish, Y/n interrupted, “Wait, can you say that again? I didn’t catch that.”

“Two tablespoons of soy sauce!” Ningning repeated, and then added, “and I’ll write it down for you.” She quickly grabbed a pen and notepad, jotting down the recipe as her mom continued explaining the next steps.

Ningning listened intently, nodding along. “Okay, Mom! Yes, we’ll definitely add the chilli oil! She says it should be spicy enough to make you sweat but not burn your tongue off!”

“Tell her that I appreciate the warning!” Y/n joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Y/n says thank you, and he hopes to still be able to taste the noodles afterward!” Ningning relayed, stifling a giggle.

“Alright, let’s see…,” she continued translating, her eyes darting between her mom and the ingredients. “Mom says to add garlic and ginger to the oil before the meat so that the flavours infuse properly. Then we can mix in the pork until it’s crispy. Got it?”

“Got it!” Y/n replied, feeling more confident now.

As they continued through the recipe, Ningning’s mom’s voice filled the room with love and encouragement, reminding Ningning of home. “She said you need to stir-fry the pork until it’s golden brown. And if you want it extra flavourful, add a splash of rice wine!”

“Rice wine?” Y/n echoed, glancing at Ningning for clarification.

“Yeah! But I’ll check if we have it first,” she said, searching through the cabinets. “We might be in luck!” After rummaging around, she held up a small bottle triumphantly. “Yes! We have it!”

“Nice find! So, how much do we add?” Y/n asked, eager to keep the momentum going.

Ningning quickly translated, nodding along to her mom’s instructions. “Just a tablespoon! She said to pour it in and let it cook for a minute. Then we can add the sauce and noodles. Are you ready?”

“Yes, boss!” Y/n exclaimed, pouring the rice wine into the pan.

As the aroma of the spices filled the air, Ningning clapped her hands in delight. “It’s starting to smell just like my mom’s kitchen! I can’t believe we’re doing this!”

“Thanks to your mom,” Y/n added, feeling proud of their teamwork. “I’d be completely lost without her expertise.”

Once they had combined all the ingredients, Ningning’s mom said a few last words in Chinese. “She says to let it simmer for a bit and then taste it before serving."

They set the phone down and watched the pot bubble. “This is actually kind of fun,” Y/n said, stirring the mixture. “It’s nice to feel connected to something you love, especially when you’re far from home.”

“Exactly!” Ningning agreed, her voice softening. “I love that we could share this experience together.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, they plated the noodles. Y/n looked at the dish proudly. “Here goes nothing!”

They both took a bite simultaneously, their faces lighting up with delight. “Woah!” Y/n exclaimed, his eyes widening. “This is amazing! We actually did it!”

“Right?” Ningning beamed, her excitement contagious. “It’s almost as good as my mom’s! We should call her back and let her know!”

Y/n nodded enthusiastically, setting his bowl down. “Let's do it quietly. I kinda just want to keep it to ourselves.”

As Ningning called her mom again, Y/n couldn't help but smile at how their day had turned from a simple shopping spree into a memorable cooking adventure, filled with laughter, mishaps, and a connection that reminded him of how special their friendship truly was.

#aespa #aespa x reader #kpop #aespa giselle #aespa karina #karina #aespa ningning #aespa winter #ningning #giselle #aespa x you #aespa x male reader #ning yizhuo #yoo jimin #aeri uchinaga #kim minjeong #ningning x reader #x reader

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babymetaldoll · 11 hours ago

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Are you mine? - Chapter eleven: "The pieces this job takes"

Summary: The Reids welcome little Vinny, and Raven will have to deal with being a sister now. The team has to say good bye to a member, and Spencer will just have to deal with changes one more time. Word count: 11.094 Warnings: This is a painful chapter for Spencer. A/N: Sorry I couldn't post last week, I had an accident (don't worry, I'm ok). I love Anderson's moment to shine in this chapter, and I hate putting Spencer through more trauma. Also, I was so sad writing Raven's tantrum... I totally understand her.

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

Previous chapter | Next chapter (post date: November 13th)

(Y/N)’s point of view

Morgan took six months off after what happened to him. He had to recover mentally and physically, which was neither easy nor fast. I know some things happened to him he wasn’t sharing with us, not even with Savannah. He didn’t want to be a burden for her, and that’s a feeling I can absolutely understand.

We saw him a lot though, which was good. We were there for him the day he and Savanna got married in a beautiful ceremony, and he was there for us the day Vincent was born.

Considering the team was down two members, Hotch couldn’t let Spencer stay at Quantico the last couple of weeks before the baby’s due date. Of course, that means I was in the bullpen when my water broke.

Honestly, sometimes I wonder why we didn't leave the FBI sooner. I'm fully aware I keep saying the same the entire time, but it’s shocking how things were a hot mess and we never noticed. Why were we so blind?

I wanted to kill Hotch for forcing Spencer to go with the team to solve a case in Alabama when I was so close to my due date. I understood things were critical without Morgan on the team and with me not being able to fly. But yet, you’d expect some humanity. I guess sometimes work comes first for some people.

My water broke as I walked from Garcia’s office to my desk to pick up some files. I froze on my spot and didn’t know what to do for a few seconds. My mind went blank. That was not supposed to happen like that. Not with Spencer away. And definitely not in the middle of the office.

- “Anderson…”- I looked around me and found him at his desk, typing something.- “Sonny, can you help me?”

- “What happened, Reid?”- ever since I married Spencer, he has loved calling me by my new last name.

- “Uhm… can you come over?”

- “Give me a minute.”- and he kept typing, not even looking at me. I didn’t want to yell I was almost popping a baby right there, but my friend wasn’t giving me another chance.

- “I can’t wait. Please.”

- “Come on, Reid.”

- “Agent Grant Anderson, I need you. Now.”- a few other heads turned as my voice filled the bullpen. Anderson turned to me shocked, but I’m guessing my freaked-out face forced him to bite his tongue at whatever he was going to say and he rushed over to me.

- “What… oh shit.”- he looked at the puddle on the floor between my legs and understood it all in a second.

- “Yes.”- I cut him a short smile and took a deep breath. I had to do my best not to freak out too.

- “What now?”- Anderson whispered, remaining calm.

- “I need you to drive me to the hospital. Garcia is busy helping the team.”

- “Ok, do you wanna call Reid first?”

- “First, I wanna call my doctor. And I need to tell Garcia. Spencer is gonna freak out and there is no need to get him worried when this can still take a few more hours.”- I did my best to remain calm knowing as soon as Spencer knew what was happening, he was ditching the team and taking the first flight back home.

- “Ok, you wanna sit down while I get Garcia?”

- “I don’t wanna get the chair all dirty.”- I argued as Anderson moved a chair closer.

- “Don’t be silly, Reid. Sit down, I’ll bring Garcia and your phone so you can dial your doctor, ok?”- I simply nodded and watched him sprint across the office.

Raven took her sweet time when she was born, but not our Vincent. He was ready to take over the world in no time. Contractions hit me hard and I was worried my husband wasn’t going to make it on time to be with me during labor. Did I tell him? Of course not, I knew he was freaking out and I didn’t want to worry him anymore.

Spencer called me as soon as he could. I didn’t get to him the first time I dialed, so he got the news from Garcia when Anderson was taking me to the hospital.

- “I’m ok, honey. I promise.”- I whispered as soon as I heard his voice on the other side of the line.- “Doctor Feldmann is going to be waiting for me at the hospital, and Frank and Mikey are on their way over.”

- “I’ll ask Morgan to go too.”

- “He has his very own pregnant wife to take care of, hun.”- I reminded him, but I could almost see Spencer’s scowl all the way from Alabama.

- “I can’t believe I am not there with you.”

- “It might take a few more hours, so you’ll be ok. We’ll wait for you to start the fun part.”- I joked knowing there was no way I could predict that, but I needed to give Spencer some peace of mind.

- “I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll call you when my flight arrives.”- I heard Spencer sigh at the other side of the line and my chest tightened knowing how bad he felt being away from me at that minute.

- “I love you so much honey bunny. Be safe, ok?”

- “I’m so sorry, chipmunk. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

- “I know. Please, take care.”

- “Ok, nugget. Your mom is on her way with Raven, I got you ice, and some marshmallows in case your sugar drops. I think we are covered. Do you have to start pushing already? Shit, I’m not ready for that. Please don’t start pushing yet.”- Frank rushed into my room, nearly hyperventilating. He paced across the room, clearly freaking out, as I stared at him, and the nurse raised an eyebrow.

- “Is he the dad?”

- “Nope-” I replied chuckling- “He is not even the godfather. Just my best friend.”

- “Basically I’m like a brother to you.”- Frank replied right away, and pretended to be shocked - “And I am not Vinny’s godfather? Are you serious? What are you talking about? I feel betrayed.”

- “I told you, it’s gonna be Mikey. You are Raven’s godfather. You can’t have all the kids.”

- “We are not having this conversation right now. You are clearly sedated.”- I chuckled and stared at my friend, who crossed his arms on his chest and looked at me from the end of my bed.

- “You do realize I haven’t gotten anything yet. I am not even…”- but a contraction stopped my words and ended that silly argument. Frank moved quickly to my side and held my hand tight. He didn’t even say a word, he just stared at me, obviously concerned, and waited until the pain had passed.

- “I’m so not having kids.”- he whispered after a few seconds, making me chuckle.

- “That’s ok, just can you check my vagina and see if I’m dilated already?”- I joked and saw the color leaving his face.- “I’m joking! Go out and wait for my mom. I’ll be fine.”

- “No way. I am not leaving you alone. I’m not getting anywhere near your vagina, but I am not leaving you alone until Spencer is here.”

And he didn’t leave. Frank stayed in my room until my husband got there, five hours later. Morgan, Mikey, and my mom kept me company too. They took Raven to get ice cream from the cafeteria and honestly helped me stay sane. Savannah, who was four months pregnant by then, and still dealing with all the nausea and morning sickness, helped keep me sane during the entire time. She was not only my friend, but also a doctor, and that always helped during delivery.

I will always be grateful for the family of friends we’ve created along the way.

Spencer’s point of view

It was a mess, nothing went as planned. I was in Alabama with the team and took the first flight back home. Garcia called me, nearly crying ‘cos she couldn’t go with my wife to the hospital, she had to work the case along with the team. I froze in place for a few seconds, not knowing what to do first.

- “Anderson is gonna drive her to the hospital. I'll be with her as soon as I can.”

- “I’m on my way.”- that was all I could say before I hung up and turned to Hotch.- “I have to leave. Now.”

Morgan, Frank, and Mikey had to take my place in the hospital while I was away. I nearly got into the pilot’s cabin and yelled at him to take us home faster if possible. Those were the longest four hours of my life, it was torture. I thought I was going to go crazy sitting there thinking my wife was alone in a hospital delivering our baby, and all because work forced me to be out of town.

When I finally got to the hospital, I rushed in flashing my FBI badge to everyone and anyone who could even think of trying to stop me. Am I proud of that? No. Do I regret it? Hell no! I just wanted to be with my wife as soon as possible, no matter what.

- “Reid!”- I heard Morgan’s voice as I rushed down the hall, trying to find the right room. He was with Savannah, Mikey, and Raven.

- “Dada!”- she escaped Mikey’s arms and ran to me. I squatted and opened my arms to hold her. - “Mommy said bad words.”

I chuckled at her comment and kissed her forehead as I stood up and walked toward our friends, who stood up as soon as they saw me.

- “I think today we can spare her a few bad words.”- I whispered into my daughter’s ear and heard her giggle.- “Guys, thank you for being here.”

- “Nothing to thank us for”- Morgan replied immediately- “You should put an eye on your pretty girl. She looked like she was about to pop your kid five minutes ago.”- I widened my eyes, gave Raven to Mikey, and ran to the room.

(Y/N)was squatting on a ball, holding her mother’s hand as Frank kneeled beside her, talking nonstop and looking honestly confused.

- “Oh thank god.”- he mouthered the second he saw me. I rushed in and held my wife tight. She grunted and shook in my arms. That’s when I realized how late I was.

- “I’m here, ma cherie. I’m here.”

- “I know. Vincent is almost here too.”- she whispered and didn’t let go. For a few minutes, it was just us holding each other. I wanted to ask her to forgive me for being so late, but words didn’t leave my lips. Instead, I just kept her close to me for a little longer.

- “I’m gonna get the nurse.”- Sofia said, probably to give us some privacy.

- “And I'm gonna leave this room before our friendship is forever scarred with gore scenes I will never be able to forget.”- Frank added and walked to the door.- “I’ll be out with the guys and my goddaughter.”

- “Thank you.”- that’s all I managed to say, but I’ve always been sure he understood the depth of my words. For a few minutes, it was just us. (Y/N)asked me to help her move to the bed, and I wrapped my arms around her to help her support the weight of her belly.

- “Did you tell Hotch I hate him for keeping you away?”- she muttered in the middle of what was clearly a very painful contraction.

- “Yes, I did.”

I did not. It wasn’t necessary, (Y/N)had made it clear before we left for the case that she was never going to forgive Hotch if the baby was born while I was out of town. The entire team knew it, my wife hadn’t been subtle at all. She stood next to the elevator's door before we left for the case, looked him in the eyes, and said: “If the baby is here and Spencer is still away, I won’t be back for work, ever again.”

- “Good.”- she whispered as I helped her sitting on the hospital bed.- “Honey Bunny, I think I’m ready to push.”

- “Wait just a few more minutes. Your mom is coming with the doctor.”

- “Shit, fuck, for Christ's sake! What shitted mother fucker thought this fuckery was in fact fair for women??!- my wife shouted every curse with such profound heart and pain, it was clear she needed more medication. Who knew when she had gotten her epidural.

- “You know, the first thing Raven told me when I got here was how you had said many bad words today.”- I whispered in her ear as I kept rubbing her back, trying to help her through the pain.

- “I fucking told Mikey to take her out, I didn’t want her to be traumatized and watch me losing it in pain.”- (Y/N)seemed mortified.

- “It’s ok, I told her you were allowed to curse a little today.”- Sofia and a nurse walked into the room, and a doctor followed them a few seconds after.

- “Ok Mrs. Reid, your baby boy seems to be ready.”- doctor Feldmann announced as he sat at the end of the bed and checked on my wife.

- “He feels ready as well.”- she mumbled, doing her best to be strong. I just scooped a little closer and held her a little tighter. I’ve never known what to do during delivery but praying and holding her hand tight. Being next to her while she delivers our babies is magical and agonizing at the same time. I will never love the process, not if I know she is going through an excruciating pain and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

It only took thirty minutes and Vincent Spencer Reid was there with us. His soft cries filled the room and my heart stopped. He was so small, so innocent, so vulnerable. Dr Feldmann placed him on (Y/N)’s chest and she caressed his back carefully, as the two of us stared at him with a loving smile on our lips.

- “Hello baby boy.”- she whispered and her voice shook as tears fell from her eyes.- “Aren’t you a pretty boy. My pretty boy.”

- “Hey there, Vincent. I’m your dad. Hello.”- I ran my fingers down his tiny arm and smiled at him.- “I hope you like baseball ‘cos it’s the only sport I’ve managed to learn so far.”

- “Maybe he’ll teach you, look at those hands, they are so big.”- (Y/N)whispered and touched his fist with her index - “Looks like the hand of a basketball player.”

- “Or maybe he’ll be an artist.”- I suggested and (Y/N)looked at me with a bigger smile.

- “I would love that.”- I stared into her eyes and caressed her cheek a few times, then ran my fingers up to her temples, and wiped a little of her sweat off before kissing her.

- “You did you good, ma cheriè. I’m so proud of you.”

- “I’m glad it went well and that he is here. Wanna go tell the rest?”

- “Not yet.”- I whispered and touched Vinny’s back one more time, enjoying the feeling of having my son there with me for the very first time - “Give me another minute of this.”

- “All the time you want.”- my wife answered and chuckled- “We have a son.”

- “We have a son.”- I smiled at those words and tears blurred my vision for a moment. I had a son, and he was perfect. Life was perfect.

Mikey stood up the second he saw me and his smile mimicked mine as I announced Vinny was there and that everything had gone well. He, Frank, and Morgan hugged me, tapping on my back, and congratulating me. Well, us. I smiled at them as I turned to Raven and opened my arms for her. She was cuddled in Sofia's arms and hesitated for a few seconds before moving toward me.

- “Come on birdy. Do you wanna see mommy and meet your brother?”- Sofia kissed her cheek and encouraged her to go with me, but she still wasn’t sure. I held her and kissed her cheek a few times before announcing.

- “(Y/N)said you guys can come in and say hi after Raven meets her brother. He really wanted to hang out with her first.”

- “Of course man.”- Morgan replied.- “Your baby boy has to meet his big sister first.”

- “I’m not big.”- Raven whispered.- “I’m a baby too.”

I should have seen that reaction coming, honestly. Raven hadn’t been excited during the first few months of (Y/N)’s pregnancy. She actually threw a massive tantrum the day we explained to her what was happening. It hadn’t been easy and Frank stepped up as her godfather and helped her see the benefits of having a little brother. However, we knew Raven would get jealous no matter how. And it was our job to show her nothing was going to change.

- “Baby girl, are you ready?”- I whispered as I held my daughter in my arms and started walking to the room. Raven hid her face on my shoulder and wrapped her arms around me very tight. I could almost feel her little heart beating hard inside her chest. It was a big day for her. The same as it was for us.

- “Hey birdy!”- (Y/N)whispered from her bed, where she sat, nursing Vincent.- “Vinny was just asking for you.”

Raven’s curiosity was bigger than her fear, clearly, ‘cos she slowly moved her face from my neck and turned to look at her brother.

- “Look, that’s your brother, Vincent.”- I sat next to (Y/N)and Raven moved in my arms, trying to get the closest look she could to her brother. She was silent judging the baby. I kept my eyes on her as she raised her little hand and carefully pressed a finger on his cheek.

- “He is so Squishy!”- Raven whispered and giggled.- “Vinny is squishy!!”

- “Yes, he is. And he is very tiny, are you gonna help us teach him all the fun things we do?”- my wife held Raven’s small hand and placed a kiss on it, making our daughter giggle one more time- “Like singing and playing and having tea parties?”

- “Can he wear a tiara?”- I tried not to chuckle at her question ‘cos she was incredibly serious about it.

- “If he wants to, of course.”

- “Don’t worry Birdy. We are still going out every Saturday morning on our dad and daughter dates.”

- “Just us?”- Raven looked at me and her little eyes shone with excitement.

- “Just us.”- I murmured and kissed the top of her head.

- “Do you wanna hold him?”- (Y/N)asked and Raven couldn’t believe it.

- “Yes Mommy!! Please!!”

- “Ok, sit here next to me.”- and as our daughter followed all the instructions my wife gave her and I placed a pillow on her small lap, I stared at the scene unraveling in front of me as I did my best not to cry, but tears kept filling my eyes. My daughter was now a big sister and was holding her little brother in her arms. I chuckled and locked eyes with (Y/N)for a moment. And as we smiled at each other, all I could think of was: I have two kids. Everything I do, I do it for my wife and our two kids.

You don’t know how that thought can change a person. The way it made me feel so much stronger and weaker at the same time. I would do anything for my family. I would fight the world to keep them safe. And at the same time, it petrified me knowing I was now living with my heart outside my chest. They were all I had, all I loved. My entire life.

I never thought I’d have a conversation about this a few months later, with Morgan, right after he came back to the team. We first had a surprise baby shower for him and Savannah in the meeting room. She was nearly on her due date and Morgan was clearly freaking out about becoming a dad, so we tried to help him relax a little and share a nice moment before a big case. (Y/N)was already back working, so she organized everything with Garcia and Savannah. Raven was in Playground and Sofia took care of Vincent while we worked, and though life was crazy, you could say we were managing.

We had a case that very same day that took us to Witchita, a double homicide and a child abduction. It hit differently when they were kids involved. To all of us now, but I’m guessing Morgan wasn’t ready to be back on the field and dealing with something like that.

We were in the police office, just us, going over some information while the rest of the team gathered a few things. I was going over some info, and Morgan seemed lost, sitting there, his mind and thoughts just weren’t in the room with us.

- “The glue our unsub used is sold practically everywhere, so we can't isolate the point of purchase.”- I pointed out as I read one of the files we had.- “A mineral analysis from the sand, however, indicates that it came from the Seneca River in upstate New York.”

Morgan didn’t reply. I doubt he even heard me. I kept my eyes on him as I straightened up and walked a little closer to him.

- “You ok?”

- “Yeah.”- he replied, but his eyes were so sad and concerned it was clear he was not, in fact, ok.

- “Morgan, we're gonna find the people who tried to kill you.”- I said as I sat on a chair in front of him, trying to reassure him that things were going to be ok. But that was not what clouded his mind, not that minute at least.

- “He was in his pajamas.”- he mumbled, staring at a point on the wall. He must have felt I wasn’t getting where he was going, ‘cos he quickly added. - “Ronnie Brewer. Out there by the side of the road, he was still in his pajamas.”

I looked at my hands and took a deep breath. That was a fact I knew, but I was trying my best not to overanalyze it. Not to imagine my kids in his place either. Not to lose it in the middle of an investigation. It’s hard to keep your head cold. You might think it gets easier with the years, but no. It only gets worse. The more you get involved in the cases, the more parts of you you give.

- “I'm sorry, kid.”- Morgan tried to justify his behavior.- “I, uh, I don't know, man. Six months on the sidelines. I guess I still have a few blisters where I used to have calluses.”

- “I don't think that's what this is.”- I say looking straight at his face with a short smile.

- “Oh, no?”- I shook my head when he stared at me confused - “Then what is it?”

- “You're about to be a dad. You know? You have to expect the world to start to feel different.

- “Did it happen to you?”

- “Of course. And it’s terrifying!”- I confessed and tried to be as honest as possible, ‘cos maybe that would help him relax a little. He sighed and held his head with one head for a minute, trying to focus and rearrange his thoughts.

- “It just feels so hard. Not as in difficult. Literally hard.”- Morgan started explaining how he felt. And it was something that I could definitely understand. - “Like asphalt is hard. Like pavement.”

- “And children are soft.”- I added, and the thought of Raven touching Vincent’s cheek saying how “squishy” he was filled my mind and my heart with love and fear. These two feelings that, apparently by rule, always came together in my life.

- “Yeah. Defenseless.”- Morgan added, mumbling under breath.

- “That's why every day we try to make this world a little safer.”- I said and tried to smile at him, though the frown on his face didn’t move.

- “How do you do it? You have two, you’ve seen the worst people can do.”

- “We are making a change, one day at a time. I will never look at the world the way I did before I was a father. But it helps knowing there are people like us, catching bad guys. I guess focusing on the good instead of the horror is what keeps me going.”

Morgan stared at me in silence, like analyzing everything I had just said. For the first time in my life, I felt like he was the one who needed my help. I was usually the one lost in a world with too many messages I couldn’t understand. And Morgan was the one helping me decoding them and teasing me about it.

But not this time.

- “If there's one thing I'm sure of, is that you and Savannah are going to be great parents.”- I added and smiled at him. Morgan chuckled and realized the position we were at. Me, giving him advice for once.

- “Charge by the hour, Doc?

- “Yeah, but you need to book your appointment at least two days ahead.”- I teased and my friend finally laughed. For the first time in what seemed to be years.

(Y/N)’s point of view

I tried to be rational. I swear. But after baby number two and going back to work, I hated how everything had changed. I could feel it around me, and I know Spencer felt it too, though I’m not sure if he felt it at the same level I did.

It was clear Morgan was leaving. I could feel it in my guts the second he walked back to the bullpen after those six months away, and I tried to prepare my husband for it. Change is part of life, that I can not change (see what I did there?). But that doesn’t mean we are always gonna love each one of the changes of ties that life sends our way. Derek had the right to start a new life, and the time felt right. It made me wonder, yet again, if leaving the BAU was the right path to follow. But at that time, it didn’t make as much sense as it does now. I guess I wasn’t ready to deal with everything that would unravel with time.

One of those things was so embarrassing I kept pushing it aside and failed. But it was so incredibly embarrassing, that I couldn’t tell anyone but Lu.

I was jealous. Seriously jealous. Of JJ.

At that time it was mainly because my stomach kept telling me there was something odd about how sometimes, especially during cases. She acted somehow territorial about Spencer. Like he was hers. That made no sense, obviously. He was my husband and only her friend. I wasn’t proud of how I felt, but a voice deep inside of me kept warning me about her attitude.

But instead of listening to my instinct, I tried to bury it. I excused my own brain, telling myself it was all because I had just had a baby and I was feeling insecure. Which was probably true, in part. But there was something about how JJ always found an excuse to be close to my husband that bothered me the second I came back to work after my maternity leave.

It didn’t really help that we were under similar conditions. Both had two kids and husbands on the field. A very demanding job, eyes for Spencer the entire time he was around. And it felt like she had her shit together, not like me, who struggled every day. Not JJ. She was fucking perfect. From her hair to her attitude and her outfits. There was no way she was a mother of two, her body was, for lack of a better word, perfect. I was filled with stretch marks underneath my clothes, making me feel incredibly self-conscious. I knew it was normal, I had two babies, my body was going to change, and Spencer seemed to be ok with that. But it felt unfair. JJ looked the same. I looked like a mom. I hated it.

- “You do realize you are being incredibly hormonal about this. Right?”- Lu suggested one afternoon when I managed to call her in between kids, cases, and house chores. Spencer had taken Raven to the store to get some things I needed to cook dinner, and Vinny was napping. So I called my friend as I started catching up with laundry.

- “Define being hormonal, please.”

- “You are not being rational, and you always keep your head cold, and this is so not you. Who cares about JJ? Spencer loves you!”

- “I know, but… she is so much better than me in every single fucking way. It’s annoying.”

- “That’s all in your head!”- I could basically hear my friend’s grin through the line. - “All this ‘cos you are no longer a size… what’s your size again?”

- “No! all this ‘cos I feel like a big fucking failure!”

- “How are you even failing? You do more in a day than Frankie does in a year.”- I tried not to chuckle at the comparison because I was trying to show her how upset I was.

- “I mean it, Lu! I know this is not a competition, but what if Spencer realizes I am a shitty wife, a lousy mother, and a sickening sight when naked.”

- “Aren’t you being silly? That man has loved you since before he could even start talking to you or even looking you in the eye. So stop it.”

- “He loved her first”

- “He had a silly crush on her before he met you. That’s it. You’ve always felt threatened by her. It’s not just now. And that’s because you can not believe something this good could happen to you. But it did, so be grateful and enjoy it.”- Lu gave a very compelling speech, I gotta admit. But one thing kept bothering me.

- “What if she is in fact in love with him and tries to do something?”

- “Then she is the most stupid FBI agent I’ve ever met.”

I remember chuckling at her response, thinking if JJ ever tried to make her move on my husband, not only I was going to go absolutely unsub with her, but probably Lu, my mom, and even Frank and Mikey could definitely bring her down.

But, much as I tried, things had changed. I could feel it. It was obvious even when nothing was happening at the bullpen. And it was clear the second Morgan came back to work. He wasn’t the same man that had left six months earlier. None of us were anymore.

The last case we worked with Morgan was the worst we had had since he had been kidnapped.

Savannah got shot. That day we were about to leave the bullpen when Garcia got the call. Spencer was talking with JJ as I grabbed all my things, already late to Raven’s school spring recital. Our daughter was so excited about the recital, her class was going to sing a song and she had practiced for weeks. She was confident she was good at it, and all she could talk about was how much she wanted to show her dad how well she and her friend were going to sing. It broke my heart to miss that show. I know it broke Spencer’s as well.

Pen rushed over, tears already falling down her cheeks, as she explained what had just happened. Morgan was at the hospital with Savannah. They were trying to save her and their baby. Things didn’t look good. In a second we were running to the elevator and Hotch drove us to the crime scene.

You don’t know how hard it is to call it a “crime scene” when it’s the place your friend was hurt. Hotch tried to keep Derek out of the investigation for obvious reasons, Morgan wasn’t in his right mind. None of us were, to be honest. But I knew keeping him out of the investigation was basically impossible. So I entered mode S.A.A Reid, and hid all my fears and worries, even my daughter’s deception (I knew I was going to deal with that later). I needed to help our friends.

I called my mom from the car. I tried to explain what had just happened and why we couldn’t be there with our daughter. We jumped out of the SUV as soon as we got there, Morgan was trying to cross the police line, looking like a madman. I heard him yelling “That’s my team” before JJ walked over and explained to the police he was in fact an FBI agent and not a psycho. I couldn’t blame him, I would look the same if my family had been hurt. I know I did when it happened. You see red when they hurt someone you love.

- “Tell me you got something.”- Morgan demanded, fire in his eyes as he spoke to us.

- “A casing and a rifle up on the roof.”- Rossi explained in a single line everything we knew.

- “This guy isn't sloppy. He's sending us a message.”- JJ added, but really didn’t say anything new. I turned to Morgan and held his hand for a moment, giving it a small squeeze, trying to comfort him. He was hot, and anger was running through his body as adrenaline kept him going.

- “Garcia, we need to access the surveillance footage.”- Hotch said and Pen nodded immediately.

- “Of course. I'm on it.”- and off she went.

- “What else we got?”- Morgan asked, and none of us said a thing. ‘Cause of course, after fifteen minutes, we didn’t have much to add.

- “That's it right now.”- Rossi sighed and shook his head

- “Where were you and Savannah standing?”- Spencer asked, first ‘cause Morgan was the only witness we had, and even under the stressful conditions he was under, he had to tell us what he saw. And second, ‘cos we had to keep him busy or that man was going to go crazy.

- “We were standing right over there on the side of my truck. We were just talking. She was to the back and I was facing her. I was the vulnerable one. I was the easy shot.”- Morgan finished that sentence screaming.

- “How's Savannah?”- I whispered, trying to calm him down.

- “She's in surgery.”- our friend’s voice was cracking, just like his strength. I grabbed his arms and pushed him with me to start walking.

- “Come on, let's check in. Rossi, are you coming?”- David nodded and started walking along with us.

- “You guys got this?”- Morgan asked and looked at the team. Spencer nodded and looked at me for a moment. He confessed sometime later that all he could think of that minute was that if that was me in the hospital, shot, he’d kill whoever was responsible for hurting me. I never forgot it 'cause I kept thinking the same thing.

We checked in at the hospital, where Rossi did most of the talking, and then we sat in a waiting room on the second floor.

- “Metro PD's gonna secure all the windows and have an officer placed in front of Savannah's room 24/7.”- David explained as Morgan walked and nodded, like a zombie.

- “Thanks.”- he mumbled though I know he didn’t process what Rossi had just said.

- “I got us a conference room down the hall to work in, and I'm getting access to the security cams right now.”- Penelope announced as she walked into the room, nearly hyperventilating.

- “Great. You two need coffee?”- Rossi offered

- “I’m good.”- Garcia replied immediately

- “No. Thanks.”- Morgan nearly bit Rossi’s head off as he replied. I couldn’t blame him, though, he was under stress, and he was going to be a nasty asshole until he knew Savannah was safe. Rossi looked at me and asked.

- “No cream, no sugar?”

- “Thank you.”- I whispered and cut him a short smile as he walked out of the waiting room.

- “Tara's donating blood in case Savannah needs more. It turns out they're the same type.”- Pen added as Morgan continued pacing across the room.

- “I’m a universal donor. I’m gonna sign up to donate for her as well.”- I said and turned around to leave. I knew Morgan well enough to leave him be for a moment. Now that he was in the waiting room, pacing and with Garcia, I could be useful somewhere else.

I was still signing papers when I heard Morgan storm out of the waiting room, smashing a pile of paper towels in a cart he found on his way down the hall. The nurses winced and I sighed as I grabbed my phone and read my husband’s text. Hotch had taken Morgan officially off the case.

- “Is he ok?”- Spencer texted me.

- “Nope. Stormed out. I’m donating blood for Savannah.”- I quickly replied. A nurse asked me to follow her to another room and got me ready to

- “Looking at the footage with JJ in the conference room.”- my stomach tightened at the thought of him and JJ being alone. But we were at work, and doing something incredibly important and personal. There was no time for jealousy.

- “I’ll be there in a second.”- I replied and put my phone back into my pocket. The nurse asked me to raise my sleeve, and for a couple of minutes, all I could do was pray for Savannah’s health.

- “So if security footage has no angles of the shooting or the rooftop, where does that leave us?”- Rossi asked as we all stood around the table, trying to find something new to call a clue that might lead us to the shooter.

- “We're running facial recognition on everyone in and around the hospital to see if they match any loose ends from Morgan's abduction.”- JJ announced as I sipped on my coffee. Hotch walked into the room that second. It had taken him an extra fifteen minutes to get there after I was done donating blood, which only meant one thing: whatever Morgan had said to him, got to him.

- “How did he take it?”- Spencer asked what we all knew had happened. Hotch’d face didn’t move when he simply replied

- “As expected.”- and that was all we talked about our friend’s emotional tantrum.

- “Sir, I know that when Morgan was on leave after his abduction, you encouraged him to stay away from the case.”- Garcia started explaining what we had all done behind Hotch and Rossi’s back.

- “And let me guess, he didn't.”- David interrupted her, and we all shook our heads.

- “We all knew in our hearts it wasn't over, and, look, we were right, so in an extra-curricular kind of way we kept sleuthing to see who was working with John Bradley.”- Garcia explained and I looked at Rossi with a shy and almost innocent smile.

- “Everyone needs a hobby, right?”

- “You of all people here have enough going on in her end to add more to her table.”- Rossi argued and Spencer frowned.

- “I helped her.”

- “Getting her pregnant again isn’t helping.”- David joked, and Hotch ignored us as he started talking.

- “Before he came back to work, Morgan said that he'd found a connection between the men who held him at the cabin and the Montolo family.”- Hotch added, looking at Rossi, who seemed lost. Like he never saw coming the fact none of us was going to let Morgan’s kidnap go.

- “Right. So, basically, we're dealing with a big crime family tree, of which Bradley was certainly a branch. And the Montolos had hired him multiple times.”- Garcia added, simply explaining we were obsessed with his case.

- “Did you scan the drawing?”- I asked her and she nodded.

- “Yeah, it's right here.”- at those words, Spencer leaned closer to look at the screen with me.

- “So, has everyone been working on this?”- Rossie asked, surprised.

- “Yeah.”- I said not taking my eyes from the screen.

- “Basically.”- my husband supported me.

- “Kinda.”- Pen added with a shy/busted smile and then she started explaining what we had. - “Ok, with Morgan's research, plus our bad guys/gals tree here, we've cut all the legs off the evil table. So like look… you got assassin mother, father, siblings, all deceased, one aunt in therapy for family trauma, and each line is like that.”

- “Montolo's line's the shortest of them all.”- Spencer pointed out - “The only living child of Chazz and Rosemary Montolo. Rosemary died when Giuseppe was just a boy.”

- “When you thought your family was fucked up…”- I shook my head at my own words, trying to ease the mood ‘cos for the life of me, I can’t deal with so much gravity from time to time.

- “Right. And then Giuseppe went to live with his family in Italy, and Chazz went off to build a criminal empire.”- Pen added. Rossi walked to me and grabbed one of the files.

- “Looks like Chazz Montolo was killed last year.”

- “Yeah, in a bank fire in Germany. Got a positive I.D. On the dental and fingerprints.”- Pen even showed him the newspaper of the fire.

- “One week after his son was murdered. What if that's not a coincidence?”

- “So whoever poisoned the son also killed the father.”- JJ suggested, but I shook my head, reading Hotch’s mind.

- “Or he staged his own death so we wouldn't suspect him of this.”- I said and felt Spencer’s hand resting on my lower back as I spoke, supporting and comforting me.

- “Hey, wait, wait, wait.”- Pen suddenly freaked out and started typing as fast as she could- “I only ran facial recognition on living people for obvious reasons, but this guy right here, walking out of the hospital, this guy, that is… That's Chazz Montolo.”

- “Well done, ma cherie.”- Spencer whispered in my ear and I turned to smile at him for a fraction of a second. We were finally going somewhere.

- “Garcia, play the footage.”- Hotch asked, and a few seconds later, we were all able to watch Montolo senior walking out of the hospital.

- “Mother fucker.”- I whispered thinking that asshole had been there with us in the building.

- “Garcia, contact the city, get access to traffic cameras. Now that we know he's here, we can find out where he went.”- but her phone ringing freaked her out before she could do anything.

- “Oh, wait, Morgan's calling me. I told him I'd keep him in the know before I knew it was an order that he wasn't supposed to know.”

- “All right.”- Hotch sighed and looked at me and my husband. - “Reids, you talk to Morgan. JJ, you and Garcia track Montolo and find out who his accomplices are. He doesn't work alone. Dave, you and I will find potential witnesses who might have seen him on the property.”

And before we could even argue or plan what we were going to tell our friend, we were forced to move and face him.

- “Wait, wait.”- I grab my husband’s sleeve and stop him- “We should get him something.”

- “I don’t think he is hungry.”- Spencer raised an eyebrow as he stared at me.

- “Still. Maybe something to drink to warm him.”

- “You wanna stress him more by adding caffeine to his body?”- he questioned me.

- “Hot chocolate?”

- “He will throw it on our faces.”- Spencer was probably right, but he could read my worry.- “Green tea?”- I nodded and walked to the closest vending machine.

- “Raven must be so angry with us.”- I whispered as I pushed a few buttons on the machine, and a cup with some suspicious-looking tea appeared in front of our eyes.

- “I know.”

- “We are gonna have to deal with her when we get home.”

- “I know…”- Spencer sighed and rubbed his hands against his face, trying to rearrange his thoughts. - "I really can’t deal with that right now.”

- “I know, I’m sorry. I just can’t stop thinking about her and Vinny, and if any of this happened to them, or you.”

- “I understand, ma cherie. So much.”- Spencer moved a step closer and kissed the top of my head.- “But right now we have to focus on helping Morgan. Ok’”- I just nodded and grabbed the cup of tea.

- “Ok.”- I looked at my husband and took a deep breath. I know he was doing his best to keep his head cold and focus on the case- “Alright, let’s do this.”

Morgan was back in the waiting room. He kept pacing, still looking like a madman. But now he was an angry madman. Angry with us ‘cos he knew we were keeping things from him.

- “Were you with Garcia?”- he asked as soon as we walked in.

- “Yeah.”- I replied and tried to smile at him, to maybe calm him down, or make him feel less threatened- “Here, we brought you a green tea.”

- “It won't make you as jittery as coffee.”- Spencer offered the cup to our friend and he grabbed it, but not without reading every single movement the two of us made. It was annoying, Frank was right.

- “You came instead of Garcia because you know I'd be able to read her.”- Morgan didn’t ask, it was a fact.

- “That is correct.”- Spencer nodded and whispered.

- “And Hotch sent you both here to see if I'm stable.”

- “He didn't say that, but…”- my husband made a pause and I just sighed.

- “Let’s say we were the chosen ones ‘cos Hotch trusted we could read you, and if you were too angry at him, we wouldn’t take it personally in case you’d yell.”- I couldn’t lie to Morgan, so I didn’t. He nodded and didn’t even try to say he wouldn’t yell. It felt good to know we were above that bullshit.

- “I don't get jittery.”- of everything we said, that was what Morgan wanted to point out. Why? I don’t know. Maybe that was an insult in his mind. He moved to the other corner of the room and left the tea on a little table Food, he wasn’t going to throw it in our faces.

- “Usually you don't, but your carotid tells a different story.”- Spencer started rambling- “I've counted 10 heartbeats in the last 3 seconds. That's about 20% higher than your usual when you're under stress.”- his voice was soft and almost shaky. My husband was nervous and worried. Scared.

- “I know you're only trying to protect me, I get it, but knock it off.”- Morgan nearly yelled, annoyed with his speech- “I just want to know what you've learned.”

- “Seriously, Derek. You know we can’t tell you.”- I sighed and shook my head.- “So don’t take it with us. We are just trying to help.”

- “If you were trying to help you’d tell me what the hell is going on”

- “We are doing our fucking best. That’s what’s going on.”

I know we didn’t plan it, but Spencer and I were doing the old “good cop, bad cop routine.” And I was the bad cop. Again.

- “When you first told me about Savannah, I'd never seen you like that.”- my husband started talking and his voice was still soft and sweet, trying to keep it together. - “The decreased levels of central serotonin in your brain cause intrusive thinking. When I finally saw you guys together, that's when I knew for sure. Your pupils dilated, your posture changed, and I saw you involuntarily reach for her hand. Science confirmed it. You've found the one.”- Morgan stared at him, speechless. - “Do you believe that?”

- “Yes.”- Derek replied, not an inch of hesitation in his voice.

- “Then believe this. Our team loves you, and we are not going to stop until we find whoever did this. But we can only do that with a completely dispassionate and unprejudiced point of view. Paternal instinct is a deadly bias that we just can't risk. It's for your protection, Morgan, I swear.”

- “Ok.” - Derek answered coldly, though you could almost hear the cogs in his brain going a hundred miles an hour.

- “You would do it for us, wouldn’t you?”- I asked him, and Morgan raised both eyebrows- “If we were you and you were us, you would try to keep us away from the information. Try to keep us calm. We did it with Kate when her niece was taken. Hotch and JJ did it for us when he pretended Em was dead. We did it for Garcia when the Dirty Dozen was trying to kill her. We’ve all done it. ‘Cos that’s what families do, they protect each other.”

- “The unsub is a father, isn't he?”- Morgan ignored my speech and looked right into Spencer’s eyes.

- “Why do you say that?”- my husband lied between his teeth as Morgan analyzed every single one of our movements.

- “A paternal instinct is a deadly bias? Those were your exact words.”

- “I meant… we are both fathers…”- Spencer was nearly sweating and I didn’t know how to help him.

- “I know what you meant. But that's what you said.”- Morgan stared at us, and neither of us said another word. So he simply walked away from us.

- “Shit, shit, shit.”- Spencer whispered and closed his eyes.

- “It’s ok, honey. We both knew it wasn’t going to be easy. And we would be the same under these sick circumstances.”

- “I know, I just…”- Spencer bit his lips as tears filled his eyes.- “I wish there was more we could do. He doesn’t deserve this.”

- “Who does?”- I held his hand and gave it a soft squeeze.- “You did well. It’s just hard keeping things from a profiler.”

- “He is my brother. And someone hurt his unborn child and wife. And all I can do is tell him things will be ok.”

- “We can help him, but he has to trust us.”- my phone ended our conversation. It was my mom, which only meant one thing: Raven’s presentation was over. And she knew we weren’t there.

- “Hello?”- I whispered and closed my eyes.

- “Mama…”- it was worse than my mom. It was Raven.

- “Hey there, birdy. How was the recital? Did you have fun?”- Spencer moved closer and I put our daughter on speaker. - “I’m with your dad at work. We are both so sorry we couldn’t be there today, Raven.”

- “Emma says I don’t have a mom or a dad.”- Raven was crying, and my heart broke as soon as I heard her.

- “What? Why?”- I knew Emma, she was three and a half years old, but that night, I wanted to kill that brat. I’m not proud about it.

- “You are never there.”- Raven wept and all I managed to do was hold Spencer’s hand as I turned to him. His tears ran down his face as he tried to get himself together.

- “I’m so sorry, Birdy. But we have to get the bad guys.”- my voice shook at the end of the sentence.

- “Why is it always you? Why can't Uncle Derek do it?”

- “Oh, Birdy”- Spencer mumbled and took a deep breath, trying to get himself together.- “We are helping Uncle Morgan right now get the bad guys.”

- “I just wanted to sing for you.”- Raven kept sobbing. - “Why don’t you love me?”

- “Raven Marie, we love you so much.”- I managed to say before I broke into tears. I hid my face in Spencer’s chest as he continued talking.

- “Your mom and I are very sorry we couldn’t be there today. We promise we’ll make it up to you.”- Raven didn’t reply, instead we heard my mother’s voice on the other side of the line.

- “I’m sorry kids. She wanted to talk to you.”

- “Thank you for taking care of her, Sofia.”- Spencer managed to say. I know he was trying to be strong, but honestly, both our hearts were broken.

- “Frank and Milkey came along. We are having ice cream and then I’m gonna take her home.”

- “We’ll pick her up as soon as we are done here.”- Spencer added.

- “Take care, kids. I know you are doing the best you can. And she will see that when she is old enough.”

- “Thank you, mom.”- I whispered and tried not to sob too hard.- “We’ll call you later, ok?”

- “Sure, peanut. Love you.”- I couldn’t talk anymore. I just broke into tears one more time as Spencer hung up and placed the phone in my pocket.

- “It’s ok, ma cherié”

- “It’s not ok. This is what I always hated about my dad’s job. This is what I swore to myself at ten years old I was never going to put my babies through!”- I sobbed against his sweater, feeling like the worst mother on earth. The sound of Raven’s cries on the other side of the phone had been way too much for me to deal with, especially considering what was going on.

- “This is wrong.”- I murmured and tried to put myself together. - “We don’t have time for this now. Derek needs us.”

- “It’s gonna be ok.” Spencer whispered as he wrapped his arms around me tightly. - “We are not going to miss any more recitals. And she is going to forgive us. She knows we are doing this to help other people.”

- “Spencer, she is about to be four, she doesn’t have to understand this. She needs her dad and mom.”- my husband kissed the top of my head and sighed.

Spencer’s point of view

The night Morgan became a dad was the night I understood he was going to leave us. My wife had pointed it out a few times before that, trying to prepare me for that moment, but I didn’t want to believe it. I thought we were going to be a team forever. But he had a new team. One that was more important than anything else.

It made me feel I was a lousy father for a moment. He was quitting to make sure his wife and kid were alright. It was something I had thought of many times until that day, but I had never found the guts to do it. I couldn’t blame him, though. He had been through hell and back.

Meanwhile, I kept overanalyzing everything that had happened that day, hell was waiting for us when we picked up our kids from Sofia’s house. Raven had refused to sleep and also refused to talk to us. Vinny was fast asleep when (Y/N)held him in her arms and kissed his forehead. Sofia offered us something to eat, but we just wanted to get home and get some rest. It had been an eternal day, and seeing our daughter’s teary eyes and hardened face made it even worse.

- “I don’t wanna.”- she argued right away as I tried to pick her up. Raven kept fidgeting every time my hands tried to reach her.

- “Come on, baby. We have to go home. Don’t you wanna go to bed? We can have a special breakfast tomorrow.”- I offered her, but she hid behind Sofia and started whimpering.

- “No! I don’t love you!”

- “Birdy, you don’t mean that.”- I whispered as I knelt closer to her. She stayed behind Sofia’s legs and refused to even look at me. Her eyes were filled with tears and I could see her struggling to both stay awake and not to cry. It was heartbreaking.

- “Raven Marie, we talked about this.”- Sofia moved and took my daughter in her arms carefully.- “Your mom and dad had to work tonight and they couldn’t go to your recital, but they still love you very much.”

But our daughter ignored my words, (Y/N)’s words, and her grandma’s words. Instead, she decided to give us the silent treatment and ignore us all the way back home.

(Y/N)made us some tea after she put Vinny in his crib, and I was struggling with Raven’s bedtime. She didn’t speak but refused to brush her teeth and put on her pajamas.

- “Birdy, I know you are upset. And you have all the right to be mad at me and your mom.”- I whispered as I sat on her bed and put my hands on her shoulders, trying to make sure she was paying me attention.- “But you have to know your momma and I were helping Uncle Derek. No one is more important than you, but when someone needs our help, we can’t turn our back on them.”

Raven refused to look at me, but at least she got into bed. I read her a short bedtime story, kissed her cheek, and wished her a good night before I left the room.

- “How is she?”- my wife asked as I walked into our room. She was already in bed, sipping her lavender tea.

- “Still angry.”- I untied my tie, left it on a chair, and unbuttoned my shirt before falling on our bed.- “She didn’t say a word.”

- “And she is just three… I don’t wanna think of our lives when our girl is a teenager.”- (Y/N)cut me a short mile, but it was clear she was trying to make lights off of what was happening.

- “I’m glad we still have a few more years until then, ma cheriè.”

We both stayed quiet for a moment. I grabbed the cup of herbal tea my wife had left on my bedside table and took a long sip.

- “Am I a bad mother?”- her whisper broke the silence and made me whip my head immediately.

- “You are not. Of course, you are not.”- I held her hand and kissed it, as tears fell from her cheeks.

- “We broke her heart, and she is three years old.”

- “She will forgive us.”

- “But how do I forgive myself?”- my wife broke into tears and I wrapped my arms around her, sitting her on my lap. I wanted to be strong for her, I wanted to find the right words to make her feel better. But I had nothing, ‘cos honestly, I was feeling very low.

- “Maybe we should quit.”- it was the first time one of us had said it out loud. I froze at her words. I didn’t see it coming. But my wife had been brave enough to say the words that had haunted my mind so many times.

- “Quit?”- I asked, half shocked, half confused. - “Morgan is gonna leave, what will do the team without us?”

- “What will our kids do without us?”

And I didn’t know what to reply to that.

- “Mommy…”- Raven’s voice ended that conversation, or the start of it. She stood at our door holding the stuffed unicorn Mikey had given her.

- “What is it, birdy?”- (Y/N)asked, sitting on our bed, whipping the tears from her face quickly.- “Did you have a bad dream?”

Raven shook her head as she walked slowly toward the bed. Her big brown eyes were filled with tears, and she kept biting her lower lip, the same way her mother always does when she is nervous.

- “Do you wanna sleep with us tonight, birdy?”- (Y/N)whispered and tapped on the bed. Our daughter nodded but didn’t move from the spot she was standing at. My wife stood up and took a few steps until she stood in front of Raven, kneeled, and opened her arms to our daughter, who nearly ran to her and wrapped her arms around her neck, sobbing.

- “I’m sorry mommy”

- “It’s ok, baby. I’m sorry too.”

It was such a moving scene tears fell from my eyes as I stared at my wife and daughter hugging as they lay on our bed. I scooted closer to them and wrapped an arm around them, kissing Raven’s cheek and (Y/N)’s temple.

- “Your mommy and I love you so much.”- I whispered and watched our daughter sob a few times before she fell asleep on (Y/N)’s warm chest.

Neither of us said another word after that. We just laid with her on our bed, Vinny sleeping peacefully on his crib near us. I wanted to put a bubble around us all and never let anything hurt us.

I didn’t know it back then, but the only way I could do that was by quitting the BAU.

The following week, Morgan came back to the BAU for the last time. We all knew he was leaving, Hotch had told us. But it was still hard for all of us to deal with what it meant losing him in our team. In our daily basics.

When we walked to the bullpen’s door, I saw Morgan hugging JJ and I knew what was happening next. I knew he was there to say goodbye. It was going to be our last time there, and I didn’t feel I was ready to face it. So I left (Y/N)standing there alone and ran away to the meeting room.

Chicken much? Yeah, I know. But everyone knows I am not a fan of changes, and that day was especially hard for me. I was losing my brother. It wasn’t just another profiler leaving. It was my best friend we were talking about. And I was happy for him, of course I was. He got everything he ever wanted. It was just hard dealing with the guilt of not being as brave as him and doing the same for my family.

But of course, I wasn’t ready to deal with that truth just yet.

- “I know you hate goodbyes kid. And change.”- Morgan found me and walked into the room, facing the issue upfront. I wasn’t expecting anything less from him. I turned to face him, my eyes already filling with tears, and he cut me a warm smile, knowing how hard it was for me.

- “Hey. It isn't always a bad thing.”- he added- “And you’ve been getting better at dealing with changes. At least with changing diapers.”- I chuckle at those words. I liked the fact we could keep that conversation closer to the fun side because it was too painful to deal with.

- “You are gonna be better.”- I whispered and he smiled.

- “Only ‘cos I learned from the best.”- Morgan added and we both stayed in silence for a few seconds. Everything about saying goodbye to my best friend hurt. So I sighed loudly and finally accepted the truth.

- “I just can't imagine this room without you.”

- “So don't. Don't think about it.”- Morgan quickly answered, still smiling. - “Just know I'm always gonna be by your side. I'm just a phone call away.”

- “I know. Raven won’t let you go either. She loves Sunday brunch with you and Savannah.”- we both smiled for a moment, but tears quickly threatened to fall again.

- “I'm sorry I can't stay.”- Morgan apologized and I shook my head right away.

- “I don't want you to stay.”- I quickly replied thinking I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay either, but I also wasn’t ready to deal with that just yet.- “Because I know why you're leaving and I couldn't be happier for you.”- I simply looked at him with a smile, because I honestly didn’t want him to feel guilty about leaving. Still, his eyes watered up as he took a step closer and grabbed something from his back pocket

- “Listen, we were gonna mail these, but I wanted you to have a birth announcement first.”- he opened the envelope and handed the announcement. I didn’t know what to say or how to react to it. So I just read it out loud, feeling a knot in my throat.

- “Hank Spencer Morgan.”- my voice broke as I stared at the picture of baby Hank in my hands. I couldn’t stop smiling as I looked at it. It was the sweetest gesture. It was more than I deserved. My best friend had named his baby after me. What had I done in life to deserve that much love from him?

- “Yeah. Hank is for my pops. But Spencer is for the best little brother anybody could ever ask for.”- his words were too much, and before I knew it I was sobbing. Morgan wrapped his arms around me and tapped on my back as he whispered.

- “I love you, kid.”

- “I love you.”- I replied knowing he was doing the right thing. It was just too painful to deal with how it felt at the moment. But it was meant to happen.

- “So, look, my little dude, he's gonna need a favorite uncle. To teach him everything he knows about life. And chess.”- Morgan chuckled at his words and I nodded smiling.

- “I can do that.”

- “I know you can.”

- “Which reminds me, I’m gonna need you to teach me how to play soccer, so I can teach Vinny eventually.”- my answer made him laugh.

It was comforting knowing Morgan was leaving the team, but he wasn’t leaving my life. That was a big change. We weren’t going to stop meeting, he wasn’t walking out of my life. He was just taking a step back from work and focusing on his family. The

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goosewriting · 8 months ago

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Dinner Disaster

summary: after some flirting, reth finally asks reader out for dinner, but it doesn’t go as planned (follows the dinner disaster quest)

relationship: Reth x gn!reader

warnings: spoilers for Reth’s backstory and interactions, smooching

word count: 5.1k

A/N: literally no one asked for this but this game is consuming my very being to a molecular level, and this man is a big reason i’m obsessed. btw if any of you play palia or are interested in playing, hmu and we can add each other lol this is set some time after the flirting starts, after reader gets involved in his uh, side business. this is more or less how the quest played out in my head so, yeah, enjoy~

Navigation: Part 1 (you're here) | Part 2

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

Since you developed a real green thumb, to the delight and pride of Badruu, you have some extra apples from your tree that you don’t know what to do with. So, as with most of your garden surplus, you decide to bring them to Reth, who will surely find a good use for the produce.

You spot the freckled Majiri behind the bar when you enter the Inn, thinking that he’d probably make an apple pie with the fruit, and that you’d surely get a slice. Your mouth waters at the thought. You wonder when the cook will teach you the recipe; maybe you should ask him.

Reth’s working the register, finishing some transaction with another human customer, when you place the wooden crate of apples on the bar, and proceed to take a seat on the stool you usually occupy when you visit him at the Inn. Reth gives the apples a curious glance, and talks to you over his shoulder as he hands the customer some change.

“Thanks, babe,” he says without thinking, and you both freeze at his words, as does the human who just paid for a recipe. They shoot you a quick look with raised brows, then silently turn on their heels and walk out of the Inn. Reth slowly turns to you.

“Sorry, that kinda slipped out,” he says sheepishly, unable to meet your eyes. “Are we at the babe status yet?”

To be honest, if he had asked you first, you probably would have said no. It’s not your favourite pet name, and he could surely come up with something better. He often calls you sweet tooth, which you’ve actually come to like a lot. But hearing him call you ‘babe’ so matter-of-factly out of nowhere… You’re surprised to realise that you actually like how it sounded, how it sounds coming from him.

“I mean… If you want to be,” you answer after a moment, deciding to tease him a little. “Sure thing, babe.”

Except that it backfires and it ends with both of your faces burning up, which he tries to play off by clearing his throat.

“Yeah, I’ll still have to get used to it, too,” you chuckle, bringing a hand to your face in an attempt to cover up how flustered you got. “But I like it when you say it.”

“Noted,” he replies, then looks around the Inn to see if someone else will approach the register. As there’s no one else, he fully faces you, leaning slightly over the bar. “Say, what are you up to today?”

“Oh you know, the usual,” you reply, starting to count on your fingers. “Hunting, fishing, foraging. Then tending to the vegetable garden. I also need to craft a new chair. Why?”

“A-are you busy later tonight?”

You prop yourself up on your elbow and give him a lopsided smile.

“I’m never too busy for you,” you offer, and he smiles amusedly at your answer. “You have anything in mind?”

“I was thinking we could have dinner. At your place, maybe?” he asks. “I’ll take care of the food and everything. You just have to show up.”

Up until now, no one has actually visited your house. Sure, you upgraded from your first precarious tent to a proper building, and the Majiri came by every so often to say hi or bring you something, but no one has actually gone into your house. And for some reason the thought of Reth not only being at your place but also being the first one to do so, it makes you a bit nervous… but in a good way.

You realise that he’s still looking at you waiting for an answer, fidgeting with a loose nail on the wooden crate still on the bar.

“I’d love that, actually,” you reply.

“Great!” He looks actually relieved. As if I would have said no to you asking me out, you think, smiling to yourself. He’s so innocent sometimes. Reth takes the crate and shoves it under the bar somewhere.

“Then let’s say around 6pm?” he proposes.

“Sounds good,” you agree with a nod.

Ashura enters the Inn, giving you a warm smile and a wave from afar as he spots you. Given that it’s his boss and you shouldn’t be distracting Reth from work, you take it as your cue to leave.

“See you later then,” you say in a low voice so Ashura can’t hear you.

“Don’t miss me too much,” Reth gives you his usual goodbye. He winks at you and you merely roll your eyes as you turn to exit the place. And just in time, so he can’t see your flustered face. You can’t remember when exactly the winking started, but it never fails to make you weak in the knees.

Once down at the plaza, you refocus on your tasks for the day, mentally making a list of the things to buy, resources to mine and places to go. Then you head for your first stop with a spring in your step. Tonight can’t come quickly enough.

— — —

You come home with a backpack full to the brim of crabs, plants, stones and other goodies. As you set down your things on the grass with a grunt from the weight, you see your palcat coming out of the house to greet you.

“Hey there,” you say, crouching down to scratch her head. She purrs and meows happily. You recently got this companion, and it’s been nice having someone at home to come back to. She often accompanies you when you go out as well, but this morning she was feeling especially lazy and cosy so she stayed in bed. You walk to your storage crate, starting to put everything away, and your cat looks at you with a light tilt to the head as you tell her about your day.

“Oh and actually,” you finish your retelling with the big news. “We’re having a visitor today.”

“Mreow?”

“Yeah, him… So you have to be on your best behaviour, you hear me?” you tell your cat with an accusing finger pointing at her. “We have to make a good impression. If you’re good, you can have lots of treats later, okay?”

She meows again, and you like to think she just agreed; bribes with food always work, after all.

There’s still some time until six, so you tend to your garden, clean yourself and change into a new set of clothes, the nicer one. It’s the only one you own, and it was a gift from Jel. In fact, all the clothing you have was given to you by him in some way or another. You make a mental note to prepare a gift for him for helping you out so much.

Next to your house there’s a nice spot among the trees, near the pond, where you can hear the trickling of water. You grab a big blanket and a lantern, and set everything up for a picnic corner. Even if whatever Reth brought was more of a “plates and cutlery at the table” kind of meal, you could still come out here after and look at the stars a bit. Then, maybe you’ll find the courage to make a proper move on him… You imagine the both of you sitting on the blanket, illuminated only by the warm glow of a candle and the gentle moonlight, you take his hand, he leans in, and…

You mentally slap yourself to get rid of those thoughts, cheeks ablaze. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, you reprimand yourself. He may be a bit of a flirt at times, but Reth doesn’t strike you as the type of person to take such feelings lightly. So you have to make sure that he even is into you in the first place. Like actually into you. Suddenly your whole mental scenario shifts, and as you take his hand, he pulls away, disgusted. But wait. Dinner was his idea. He even called you ‘babe’. Surely he must have some interest, right? You’re not just… a side piece?

Before you can spiral down further, you hear your name being called, although it’s not the voice you were expecting; this one is higher and has a slight lisp. You turn around to find Auni by the gate to your yard. You jog up to where he stands, smiling curiously. Sure, he delivers the mail twice a day, but usually you just find the letters in your mailbox as if they magically appeared; you never saw him actually deliver anything. You wonder if he has a new cool bug to show you.

“Hey Auni!” you greet the boy as you approach him.

“Hi, I have a delivery for you,” he announces, holding out something for you to take.

“Oh, what is it?”

“Reth paid me in cakes to have this brought to you asap, said it was really important.”

“Oh?”

You take the letter from him with a thanks, and he says his goodbyes. Why would Reth send a letter when he’s supposed to show up himself? Maybe it’s a treasure hunt kinda thing?

You open the folded piece of paper, which isn’t even in an envelope, recognising Reth’s handwriting, but it’s even messier and more hurried than usual. The curious smile on your face disappears, your brows furrowing as you read.

Hey, I feel like a HUGE jerk for doing this, but I have to cancel our plans tonight. Something came up that I can’t ignore. Next time we see each other I promise I’ll explain.

- Reth

It feels like your whole body suddenly runs cold, and your hands drop to your sides, your eyes looking ahead at nothing in particular.

Your cat, who had poked her head out the door when she heard Auni, seems to sense the shift in you and approaches, meowing softly, as if asking if everything is okay. You look down at her, and give a light shrug.

“Looks like we won’t have visits after all…” you explain, reading over the letter one more time, then letting out a deep sigh. “Let’s get you something to eat, c’mon.”

She seems to know those words, as she immediately stands up and circles around your legs. Following you inside, she waits for you to get the bowl ready, and once you set it on the ground, she happily digs in.

“Well, at least one of us got a nice dinner.”

You stroke once from her head to her long bushy tail, to which she comically lifts her behind, then you decide to turn in for the night and head to bed, not really feeling hungry despite the eventful day.

— — —

The next morning you wake up to the sunlight shining through your window and fully hitting your face; you forgot to close the blinds the night before. With a squint, you look down at the weight you feel on yourself and find your cat curled up on your lap, which gets a sleepy half smile out of you.

Picking her up in your arms, you go to close one of the blinds, then make your bed and head to the kitchen for breakfast. You start your routine like normal, having breakfast, taking care of the garden, going through your inventory to check what you need and what you can sell. You take your time, though, not really wanting to head into the village just yet.

By the time you’re ready to go, it’s almost noon. Usually you’d be at the inn in the morning to say hi to Reth and chat a bit before starting your day. And while you really don’t feel like talking to him after leaving you hanging yesterday, you also know that he’s probably beating himself up about it, even more so if you haven’t been seen all morning. So after heaving a deep sigh, in hopes of letting all anger and frustration exit your body, you walk through the gate down into the village. To your surprise and delight, your cat follows this time.

You make your way towards the central plaza, exchanging greetings with those who walk by you, stopping to have a short chat with Chayne, whom you probably don’t talk to enough. You make a mental note to remedy that.

Somewhere in your mind though, you know you’re just stalling; you should just get it over with. Reth probably has a good explanation. Besides, you don’t want to be mad at him or give him the silent treatment or anything. You miss him, and you do want to see him. You’re just… disappointed.

Taking one last deep breath as you stand before the Inn, you look down at your palcat and give her a nod. She meows encouragingly. You walk in through the open door, relieved to find it mostly empty. There’s very few people sitting at the tables in the corner, and Ashura isn’t at the reception desk.

Your eyes find Reth’s behind the bar, and he freezes for a moment. You approach him like you normally would, about to take a seat on your usual stool.

“Wait,” he says before you’re able to fully sit down. You merely shoot him a questioning look. He lowers his voice, shooting a quick glance at the people eating at the tables. “Let’s talk in the back.”

Reth scribbles something on a piece of paper and places it next to the till, indicating for you to follow him with a nod of his head. You pat the seat you meant to take while commanding your cat to hop onto it, and she does, so you tell her to stay there and wait. Then as you walk to where he said, you take a quick look at the paper; it reads “back in 5”.

You follow Reth into the back room, and you both come to stand in the farthest corner; since there are two archways but only one has a door, this will have to do to stay away from prying ears and curious eyes. You both talk in hushed voices.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says with a sigh, scratching his neck. He drags his eyes up to meet yours, scared of what he might find. “Please don’t be mad. Are you mad? You can be a little mad. I’m such a jerk–”

“Hey, no need don’t say that,” you interrupt him, and you just look at each other in silence for a second. “I mean, I’m upset, but not in a ‘mad at you’ way. More in a… ‘I was really looking forward to it and was bummed that you had to cancel at the last minute’ way.

“I was really looking forward to it too, it’s just…” Reth runs his hand over his face with a groan. “Yesterday was kind of a mess.”

“What happened?”

“Ashura caught me sneaking into the back rooms after hours. I panicked, so I lied and said I was actually planning a party for him, as a thank you. He liked that idea, so he got off my back, but now I actually have to throw him a dinner party with other people.”

You look to the side, unable to stop the scoff that escapes you. But it isn’t a mocking or offended scoff, it’s more of an amused sharp exhale.

For a moment, you think back to how you kind of ended up roped into his side hustle of smuggling illicit goods (especially Flow and ancient artifacts, which are very illegal), which is why he was sneaking around in the first place. You’ve been covering for him with Ashura and many others for a while now, and while at first it was more of a personal favour, now you're in too deep. Not that you mind, though. If you’re being honest with yourself, it adds a bit of an exhilarating factor to everyday life. You’re not entirely sure yet about the actual power and meaning of Flow in this society, but it seems to be connected to humans in some way, so you’re at least a little bit interested in it. If you have to investigate and interact with it in secret, then so be it; you also want answers as to what happened to humanity and how you landed here. Besides, it’s one more thing you two can bond over. Literally partners in crime. The thought makes you smile to yourself.

“You’re kind of bad at this whole criminal thing, you know?” you tell him with a playful grin. “Getting strangers involved, almost being caught by your boss.”

He doesn’t seem too amused.

“I know, I’m…” his demeanour shifts from annoyed at and with himself to almost shy, and he looks down as he bites the inside of his cheek. “I guess I’ve been distracted lately, is all.”

You hum in response, somewhat intrigued. When his gaze comes back up to meet yours though, eyes filled with yearning, the look he gives you makes your heart skip a beat, and suddenly you’re all too aware of how close you’re standing to each other. You need to wrap this up.

“So is there anything I can do to help you out?” you ask him.

“What? No, you really don’t need to. You’ve already saved my hide so many times,” he’s quick to dismiss your question. “Besides, cooking is one of the few things I’m actually good at, so I got that covered.”

Suddenly he looks like he just thought of something that you could in fact help out with, but he doesn’t want to say. You give his upper arm a soft push with your fist.

“C’mon, out with it,” you encourage him with a playful smile.

“Well…” His eyes linger for a second where you touched him. “I need to prepare everything, so I can’t be out and about actually inviting everyone to the dinner party.”

He takes out a paper from his pocket and hands it to you. You skim over it, seeing a list of names.

“If you could invite everyone and let me know how many guests will come, I can make sure to cook the right amout.”

“Got it,” you reply with a nod. “I’ll ask around and probably send Auni back to let you know. He told me you’re paying him in cakes for special deliveries. Think you can sneak another baking session in today on top of dinner? On my tab.”

“Sure thing,” he chuckles, then gets serious again. “And hey, I really am sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Reth, it’s okay, really,” you say, and he’s so close and he looks so sad, you want to hold his face so badly. In fact, your hand is already going up, but you pull back midway, fidgeting with the collar of your shirt instead. “Just… be more careful next time, okay?”

“Yeah…” he sighs. “And thank you, for the invites. I owe you. Again.”

“Yes, you do,” you chuckle. “Maybe I should start charging you with interest.”

He starts patting down his pockets.

“I don’t have any cash on me at the moment,” he says with a smile, playing along.

Your answer comes quicker than you can anticipate and you’re unable to stop your words.

“I was thinking more along the lines of kisses maybe…”

Both of you look at each other a bit shocked.

“Oh. O-oh,” is all he stammers.

Whatever confidence came over you for you to say that, immediately dissipates as Reth turns several shades of pink darker. The tips of his ears look like they might actually catch fire any moment.

“But we can talk about payment later,” you’re quick to add, and clear your throat. “I’ll uhm, get your invites out. You better start on that food.”

“Right. Yes,” he says stiffly, and you both put some space between each other. “Thanks again. And sorry too. And–”

“Reth,” you cut him short again, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. See you later.”

“B-bye.”

You exit the backroom, calling for your cat, who walks around the bar to find you, and you make a hasty exit through the back, walking down the stairs to your left. As you pass the river, you consider for a moment jumping into the water to cool down. Maybe that would get your heart to slow down again. You fist your shirt over your chest where you can feel the pounding against your ribs.

An inquisitive meow from the side gets your attention back, and you look down at your companion, who’s looking up at you confusedly.

“Right. We have a job to do,” you say and go to take out the paper with the list from your pocket, except that it’s been in your hand the whole time, and it’s now crumpled and slightly damp because of how clammy your hands were. You cringe a bit at that, commanding yourself to calm down at once. Geez, get a grip on yourself, you think.

It takes a while to track Auni down after everyone else, given that he’s always out on his mail route or out and about exploring, probably trying to catch some bugs. When you finally find him, you give him the list of people who plan to atttend Ashura’s dinner, and send him to Reth to deliver the news with the promise of getting his sticky hands on more cake. This seems to do the trick, and he happily jogs off with the new list stuffed into a side pocket of his gigantic backpack. You look after him as his figure gets smaller and smaller, wondering how he’s even able to carry all that. His equipment is bigger than himself.

With a shake of your head, you bring your attention back to your own equipment, and get your bow and arrows ready. Today you’re hunting chapaas; Hassian asked for some meat and fur earlier this week and you haven’t been able to deliver yet.

— — —

You get back home relatively late, and when you do, the flag on your mailbox is up. Setting down your haul next to it, you get out several letters, looking for a message from Reth. And lo and behold, there’s one from him, this time properly written and folded into an envelope.

He says that in the end everything worked out, to which you sigh in relief. Ashura doesn’t suspect a thing apparently, and everyone had a great time. He tells you to meet him at your “private spot” tonight, he has something to give you.

You look at the time, then down at yourself; you’re looking pretty shabby after hunting for hours on end, kneeling down in mud and such. So you quickly change into clean clothes, wash your face and prepare food for your loyal cat. As she happily munches away, you grab your jacket and leave again. Nights can get pretty chilly here, you’ve learned.

It doesn’t take long for you to make your way to the inn, given that you’re essentially bee lining for it. Checking that no one’s following you or sees you enter the inn from the back, you quickly take a left and go down the stairs towards the storage room. Reth gave you the key to it, so you unlock the door and enter, quickly closing it behind you.

When you turn around, you’re met with the cook on the other side of the room, stopping whatever he was doing on the table, and he stands up to come and meet you.

“Hey sweet tooth, thanks for coming,” he greets you.

“Hey,” you smile up to him but he looks tense. “Is everything okay? I thought you said the dinner party worked out? “

“No, it did. It’s- It’s not that,” he curses under his breath at himself.

“What is it then?”

Reth sighs, and you can tell he’s trying to find the right words. So you give him a moment to gather his thoughts, waiting patiently.

“You know… I’m not used to asking for help,” he starts explaining. “Even as a kid, I wouldn't, and I didn't expect others to help, either. It was always just me and Tish against the world. And now there’s you.”

His cheeks flush ever so slightly, and you can start to feel yours mirroring his.

“Here you come, busting into my life,” he says with a soft smile, but it quickly vanishes. “And even though I keep messing up… somehow you’re still here. You’re not sick of me yet.”

You want to interject, as that “yet” doesn’t sit well with you, but he doesn’t let you.

“And more than that, you've put yourself on the line for me, more than once. I honestly don't understand why you keep putting up with me but… I really do appreciate everything you've done and how much you've helped me out, and Tish as well. But the cartel… I- I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. And I don’t want to scare you off either.” He lets out a shaky breath. “Whatever is going on between us, I don’t want to lose this. So let me make it up to you.”

He steps aside to show you what’s on the table: a container with your favourite food.

“And I know this is barely enough for everything–”

“Reth, please stop,” you interrupt him before he can spiral further, your voice soft. “I’ll take the food, thank you. It looks delicious. But you really don’t have to try to make up for any of the, uh, side business stuff. Sure, the dinner didn’t work out, but if you say we just have dinner another day, then that is enough for me.”

You step a little closer, your hand tentatively reaching out for his.

“And you don’t have to worry about scaring me off.” Your voice is nothing more than a whisper now. “I also don’t want to lose what we have. I’m not going anywhere.”

Reth looks down at your hands as he shyly intertwines his fingers with yours, and when his eyes come back up to meet yours, they’re full of something… new. His gaze flickers down to your lips for a second and back up, and you wonder if he can hear your erratic heartbeat. You’re standing so close to each other right now, it wouldn’t take a lot to close the gap.

“That said, though, about that payment I mentioned…” you trail off.

His jaw clenches, and he looks to the side, pulling back away from you ever so slightly.

“Are you sure about this?” he questions rather bitterly. “About me?”

“What do you mean?” you ask. He sighs, eyes cast down at the floor.

“People will talk. They probably already are. With my reputation and all… I strayed from my Path. Most days I’m convinced people don’t even like my soup. I’m nothing more than a scoundrel.”

Your free hand comes up to gingerly hold his chin and turn his face to make him look at you.

“First of all, I don’t care what people say,” you start refuting his arguments. “Maybe I still don’t understand Majiri tradition, but I think you should be free to choose your own path with no expectations, and change it if you find it doesn’t suit you. And I like your soup. Also, I think being a scoundrel is part of your charm. Is that a bad thing?”

He doesn’t reply immediately, and when he does, his voice is so small you almost miss it.

“You’re too good for me.”

You pull back slightly to fully look at him, and it breaks your heart a little how earnestly he means that. So you let go of his hand and hug his torso instead, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“I don’t know what happened that makes you think that, but I will try my best to show you how wrong you are. You deserve good things, Reth. Whatever it is you want, you’re allowed to pursue it.”

He hugs you back, tightly, so you place a kiss to the only place you can reach, which is his jawline just below his ear. You feel him tremble, but if it’s from relief, anticipation or something else, you can’t tell.

“Right now what I want is you,” he says after a moment.

“Then what are you waiting for.”

Reth lets go only enough for you to come back face to face with him, and he doesn’t waste a second to capture your lips with his. At first it’s shy, new, a sequence of soft pecks, testing the waters. When your hands travel up his chest to cup his face, he relaxes a bit more, kissing you more confidently. His hands slip underneath your open jacket, holding onto your waist and pulling you to him.

His kisses grow more intense, hungrier, and his tongue finds its way to yours. You can’t help the low moan that escapes you when he presses you further into him, and he practically swallows it.

As he takes a step forward, you take one backwards, then another and another, until your back hits the door, and you’re being squished between the rough wooden surface and Reth’s body trying to get impossibly close to yours. The impact makes you grunt, and he responds with something between a sigh and a growl, moving away from your lips to attack your neck. You welcome the break to take a breather, panting, and you remember something.

“Wait,” you say between breaths, and immediately Reth stops his soft bites and licks on your throat, also out of breath, and worry starts spreading on his face.

“W-what? Is this okay? I–”

Your hand on his face gently covers his mouth to stop him from talking, while with the other you turn the key below the doorknob to lock the door, which you had forgotten to do when you arrived.

“Just don’t want to risk getting interrupted, is all.”

You take a moment to admire his slightly dishevelled form: the bandana is a bit askew, his pupils are blown out, his cheeks and ears a deep pink. You probably don’t look much different, to be honest. He looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to give him permission to continue.

“Let’s move away from the door, maybe–” you start, and within an instant, strong arms are picking you up under your thighs, carrying you over to the other side of the room and setting you down on the table.

“Better?” he asks, placing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Better,” you reply with a smile.

“You said you’re charging me with lots of interest,” he mumbles into your skin as he starts again where he left off earlier. You can only hum in response. “And I plan on paying back what I owe.”

You pull back a little to look at him, and the newfound confidence and assertiveness in his eyes and voice send a pleasant tingle down your spine.

“I’m very much looking forward to it.”

— — —

A/N 2: what? goose being attacked by brainrot over a freckled red-head who seems confident on the outside but is actually riddled with insecurities and does some illegal stuff to keep his family safe? huh, bet no one saw that one coming 🙄 guess i have ONE TYPE, smh.

A/N 3: if this is something you'd like to see more of, feel free to let me know and i'll add palia to my taglist fandoms for you to sign up :D palia has now been added to my taglist! link in my pinned post~

#goose feathers #palia x reader #palia reth x reader #reth x reader #i don't even have a masterlist ready for this one #i have to make a new header lol #and yes i am planning on making this a series because i am delulu and 3 parters is my sweet spot apparently

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eupheme · 3 months ago

Text

— honey, honey

[part ii of sugar, sugar] | [part iii] | [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 5.2k

tags: asshole friend!wade, (sorta soft) roommate!logan, baker!neighbor!reader, flirting, mutual yearning, miscommunication, immature humor, wingman!wade, light angst, oral sex, spitting, fingering, unprotected PiV, begging, floor sex

Even after you wake up alone, and almost late for work, it doesn’t deter your interest in your neighbor - especially after the night you shared.

(Or - a miscommunication, and the following through of two late-night promises.)

You awake to the blare of Dolly Parton's '9 to 5'.

A time you wish your work schedule followed. Groggy with sleep as you reach for your phone, hitting snooze on your way-the-fuck-too-early alarm.

Collapsing back on your pillows, as the night before comes rushing back to you.

The party. Meeting Logan. Coming back to your apartment after.

An ache between your thighs that you definitely didn't have the morning before. Sitting up with a start, heart racing as your hand stretches out on the right side of the bed.

The sheets are cool, in-between the deep rips in the fabric.

You don't remember him leaving.

Had drifted off with an arm slung around your waist, one of the hardest sleeps of your life. Something inside you twists, leaving behind the sharp tang of disappointment.

It's not unusual, you suppose. You'd had your fair share of fuck-and-go's, and had even committed a few yourselves. But you thought last night had felt different.

There had been a connection, you were sure of it. The way he had touched you, kissed you-

You had just hoped...

The snoozed alarm goes off, and you catch the time. Forty-five minutes before than your usual alarm - the numbers shocking you into action.

Set earlier to accommodate a last minute change for a wedding - all of the cupcakes needing to be repackaged before the mother of the bride came at seven.

And you had volunteered, do-gooder that you were.

"Shit!” You hiss, scrambling out of bed. A whirlwind as you throw clothes on, banging into the bathroom to get ready.

Still muttering as you blow through the kitchen, snatching up your bag and keys.

"Why the fuck did I do that?" You grouse to yourself, skipping your usual morning coffee - you'll have to grab it on the way, "God, I'm fucking dumb, I always regret it."

The door slams behind you - as you rush down the steps, and out into the streets.

His claws unsheath with the bang of the door. Awakened from a dead sleep, his heartbeat jolting as he's thrown back into another life, in another world.

It takes him a full minute to come back down. His surroundings unfamiliar, the room still bathed in darkness.

A groan, when he remembers. The claws slipping back beneath, a sharp twinge as his skin knits back together.

It's too early for the late night he shared with you. Should have thought about you working in the morning, might have held back from the extra round the night before.

Had meant to wake up before you, slip back into bed as you dozed. You had dropped off in his arms the night before, lulled to sleep after he had coaxed two more orgasms from you, with the slow pump of his hips and circle of his fingers.

Dragging himself out to the couch once your breathing had gone steady. Tugging the homemade afghan off a nearby armchair, wrapping it around him as his eyes fixed on the door. Keeping watch, as he did next door.

Lulled to sleep, thinking about you. His eyes flutter shut for a moment now, the slightest pull of his lips at the memory.

Flinching again, when you barrel out of the bathroom. The light makes him squint - you haven’t seen him yet, as he pushes himself up on an elbow. Your name soft hush on his lips, until he hears your angry muttering.

"Why the fuck did I do that?"

"God I'm fucking dumb, I always regret it."

Your tone laced with anger, woven in with the sharp tang of remorse.

The realization is a douse of ice-cold water, rising away the last dregs of sleep. Leaving him staring at the door as you yank it shut behind you.

Scowling, as he pushes himself up.

Nearly ripping the denim as he tugs his jeans back on. Finding his white tank and discarded flannel in your room, right where he had stripped them off the night before.

His jaw works, replaying your words.

He should have known. Shouldn’t have listened to Wade. Shouldn’t have listened to you. Shouldn’t have let himself hope.

And for the second time, your door slams shut.

You think about Logan all morning, even as you put out fires at work.

The boxes exchanged - two-hundred and fifty rustic, individual cardboard carriers exchanged for sleek and shiny white ones, tied with a bow. The memory that runs through your mind even staves off your irritation at the last-minute work, a peppy smile and wave as you hand the boxes off.

The 'tied-up-in-knots' is a feeling that echoes in your belly. Your fondness for Wade is starting to come back, after the way you were ready to write him off for that absolute debacle of an introduction.

You'd been expecting something a little more... natural. Normal. A "hey, have you met my neighbor?" not one of the most embarrassing things you've had to live through with a near-stranger.

Maybe you should have known better.

But with the way the night ended, you can't bring yourself to be mad. Letting yourself get distracted as you replay the night, again - almost grabbing the wrong tube of icing as your mind wanders back.

Not only thinking about the way he felt - those wandering hands and how perfectly he fit inside you, how he had completely fucked your brains out - but him as well.

The conversations. The tiny crack you had made in his armor, the way he had shown you his claws. The drift of his fingers against your skin, when he had asked why you had gone to Wade.

You’re thankful you’re working in the back today, with the way your skin heats from chest to ears. Quiet mutterings to get it to together.

And as the afternoon finally starts to lull, you find yourself gathering ingredients.

It wouldn't take long to make something small. The recipe is one you know by heart.

Maybe you can drop it off tonight. Maybe it will erase whatever you did to drive him from your bed and back to his apartment in the middle of the night. Maybe it will be a nice way to let him know you’re thinking of him.

Vanilla, flour, powdered sugar. Fresh, sliced strawberries.

Maybe you have it bad.

The box is tucked under your arm when you knock on Wade’s door. It’s still early in the afternoon - the hallways bright, traffic buzzing outside.

You fidget with the strap of your dress - something breezy, but still a little cute. An attempt to look like you have it together with looking like you tried too hard - something easier said than done.

There’s a fluttering twitch behind your ribs when the door opens. That curl of hope squashed when it’s not Logan that answers, but Wade.

You’re quick to fix your expression, offering him a smile, “Morning! Late night?”

“Is it a late night if it’s still going?” A yawn, as he scratches at his ribs - fingers digging into the fabric of his cropped tee, “We’re four seasons deep into a Supermarket Sweep marathon. If I could go back in time again…”

The tv blares in the background, Al sitting in an armchair. The couch from the night before still sits empty, no sign of Logan.

Not that you’re checking.

“You’d… want to host?” You offer, eyebrows raising.

“God no. Can you imagine me in those sweaters? Way too much polyester.” He chuckles, “No, Blind Al and I would sweep. Pun intended.”

Your head tilts, nose scrunching.

“I see you make that face, but that woman knows every goddamn aisle.” Wade sighs fondly, before he’s jolting - eyes fixing on you, “But enough about the biggest regret in my life, how was your night?”

“Oh,” You manage, “It’s was good-”

“Just good?” He scoffs, “He gave you the greatest show and you’re saying it’s just good?”

A huff, muttered under his breath, ”Can’t remember the last time I took the skin boat to tuna town like that. Surprised you’re still walking.”

The noise you make is ugly - a broken groan. Embarrassment flooding with your nerves, cheeks heating, “If you must know, it was great. Lots of wholesome, adult conversation.”

“Uh huh. And a good, old-fashioned railing.” His tongue tucks against his teeth, “I get it! I’ve had him inside me too, it was quite the experience.”

That has you pausing. A beat, as curiosity wells in you, “You mean…?”

“Well, it was his claws,” Wade sighs wistfully, “But how different can it be?”

You huff.

“I don’t think that’s the same thing.”

His brow lifts, “It is, according to the internet.”

“Sure, Wade. The Internet.” Your eyes roll, as you shift - adjusting the box as it rests against your hip, “Speaking of though, is he, uh, home?”

Wade doesn’t hear you. His eyes have already dropped, just noticing what you’re carrying. A tilt of his head as he peers through the transparent film on top.

“What is that?” His finger pokes the box, and your eyes dip down

“It’s nothing,” You start - but you know he won’t let it drop, “Well, actually, it’s - I uh, made him a-”

The words peter out lamely, as you hold up the box. Wade’s teeth sink into the side of his lip, as he bites back a cackle.

“Did you seriously bake him a ‘thanks-for-the-sex’ cake?”

You blink, “No!”

A pause, as mortification wells in you.

“Oh my god,” It’s a whisper, as your hand drags across your face, “Oh my god, Wade. I baked him a sex cake.”

You shove at him as he laughs - his hands sneaking beneath your arm to wrestle the box away from you, “Mm, you’ve got it bad, girlfriend. This is pretty embarrassing, real hard to come back from.”

“There was context!” You insist, reaching for it, “Give that to me.”

Wade twists - pivoting away from you, “Oh ho, not a chance, Sugarplum.”

Your forearm presses into his chest as you lunge at him, but it’s all too easy for him to set the box on the cluttered end-table, barring you as he closes the door - trapping you both out in the hallway.

“He earned it, from what I heard,” He chuckles, “And are you really gonna take it away from him?”

You’re still mentally, and possibly physically, cringing. Leaning against the wall, while he blocks the door.

Wade is still grinning, a sigh as his arms cross,“God, I wish he was here.”

And for the first time all day, you’re glad he’s not. It had seemed like a sweet idea but you’re left feeling like an idiot now - already planning on trying to sneak back in and grab it when Wade isn’t looking.

“He’s not?” You’re fishing. Hook and bobber, a flick as you cast out your heart, fingers on the reel. Pathetic, perhaps, but you can’t resist, “You think he’ll be back tonight?”

“Ooh, the real reason you stopped by. I see how it is.” He sniffs, “But no, I’ve got no idea. Left this morning with Laura, something about a job.”

A beat, before he adds, “Which about time, bee tee dubs. Great face card, but Old Wadey here is about to go into overdraft.”

“Laura?” You parrot, without thinking. A frown creasing your brow, the slightest downturn of your lips.

He catches the expression immediately.

Wade smirks, “Ooh, you are looking so green, Sugar. Never took you for the jealous type.”

An inhale of air between his teeth, head tilting as his hands brace on his hips, “God I could make this so complicated right now. Drag this whole thing out to another chapter, but I won’t, because I just so happen to like you.”

A beat, before he puts you out of your misery, “Laura’s his daughter. Well, this world’s Logan’s daughter. Well, he’s the baby daddy, but there’s no mom. Well, it’s complicated.”

“Oh.” You manage. Another detail to keep up with, something you tuck away with the rest. To ask Logan about later, when you see him - a feeling that he might be a little more coherent in his explanation.

“I’m sure you’ll meet her.” Wade smiles, “Good kid, I mean, as good as you can be with that as a father figure. So much trauma.”

You hum. He had hinted at that. You couldn’t believe that his world didn’t want him. Not sure what could have happened to have him all but warn you the night before.

As if it would make you not want him.

There’s a beat, before his hands are resting on his hips, “Okay. I need to go back to the apparently-contextual-sex-cake.”

You groan, slumping against the wall - the heels of your palms digging into your closed eyes.

“I thought it was embarrassing but I gotta admit that I’m jealous. It’s really bothering me that no one’s ever baked me a cake, because I’m a very tender and generous lover.”

“That wasn’t why. He seemed interested in trying a non-phallic version of the cake I made for you,” You try to keep it professional, but he’s already smirking, “Which thank you for bringing up by the way, really broke the ice.”

“Without me you’d still be at ‘favorite colors’,” Wade’s smile widens, before he sighs longingly, “And god, that cake was good. Best dick I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

You snort, “So far, right?”

His eyes widen.

“You little slut, are you shopping for a third already?” Wade twists the doorknob - opening it a crack with his yell, “Al, it’s happening!”

“No,” You laugh, “I just meant-, I meant I might get better.”

“Can’t beat perfection. And I would know, with a face like this.”

There’s a high-pitched yap then, the sound of nails scratching at the wooden door.

“Ooh, duty calls. Pun intended. Again.” He thumbs over his shoulder, “I’ll tell him you stopped, by if-”

You give him a look, but a grin still tugs at your lips, “If I do that other thing you’re always asking me to do.”

His hand presses against his chest, in mock-offense.

“I can’t believe you’d say that! I was going to say if you don’t see him first.”

It makes you smile. Fondly, even.

“Thanks, Wade.”

His hand pats your shoulder.

“Any time, Sugar. My holes are always open.”

You sigh.

You don’t see him until late in the evening.

The afternoon ticking by. Telling yourself you don’t care - to play it cool - only to turn around and try to convince yourself that open communication is the way to go.

Vegging out in front of the television for a while - trying to figure out what to order for dinner. Narrowing it down to two takeout locations when there’s a series of bangs in the hallway.

Layered voices.

You can’t help but look. Half-nosy and half-worried for Wade, even if he did have mutant powers. Even if you can’t offer much for backup, it doesn’t stop you from cracking open the door.

“-open the goddamn door right now, I’ll break it down.”

The growling voice is one you’ve come to know, even if it’s angrier than you’ve ever heard.

The side of Logan’s fist colliding with the door frame, his shoulder pressed up against the wooden door.

“Not a chance, Jack Torrance.” Wade’s voice is muffled, “Always wanted to be an uncle and you are not ruining this for me-”

The doorknob rattles under his grip, as he snarls, “You roped me into this, shithead. All that talk about getting to know-“

“New York’s Cupid is never wrong! Don’t you dare ruin my streak!”

It’s then that Logan sees you - the snarl on his face flickering. Expression going flat.

A final filthy glare shot at the door before he steps away. The calculated look he throws your way makes you think he’s considering making for the end-of-the-hall staircase instead.

What is happening?

A beat, before his jaw grits. Hand shoving into the pocket of his jeans. Closing the gap between you only to thrust out a rolled-up bundle of bills, secured with a rubber band.

“For the mattress.”

There’s a frustrated rumble in his throat when you don’t take it - too busy frowning, your eyes flicking from the bills to his face.

“I don’t want that?” It comes out like a question, as you try to put the pieces together.

“Just take it.” He grits. Eyes dropping, “You can replace your mattress and we can forget last night happened, if you regret it so much.”

You blink.

“I don’t regret last night, Logan.” Your hands brace on your hips, “You were the one that left. Which is fine, if that’s how you like things to go, but don’t you dare point your finger-”

Logan scoffs, interrupting you.

“I didn’t leave.” His tongue licks against his teeth, as his head shakes, “I slept on the couch. Perfect place to hear your rant this morning.”

Your hands brace on your hips, “My rant?”

“Yeah, Sugar.” He’s stepping into your space - and it shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but something about how you’re bumping up against the door has your heart racing, “Heard everything you said. How ‘fucking dumb you are’, how you regret it.”

A beat, as you process - a thunk, as you head tips back against the door. Everything becoming clear, and you almost laugh.

He hadn’t left.

“I wasn’t talking about you.”

His frown deepens.

Your face softens, “How could I think that? I spent all day thinking about you. I was mad at myself for taking an early shift, instead of getting that extra time with you.”

There’s still a jut to his jaw. Defenses and hackles raised - your words as useless as his fist against the door.

Your hands spread wide, “I even baked you a cake, which is apparently something I do when I like someone.”

He goes still at that, eyes dark. A lithe roll of his shoulders as he steps closer - voice dropping, “Say that again.”

“I baked you a cake?” You repeat, distracted by his proximity.

“Mm,” Logan hums, “Not the beginning. The last part.”

Your cheeks heat, as you realize what you said, “When… when I like someone.”

There’s the touch of his fingers against your chin. Tipping your face towards his, even as your eyes drift to somewhere over his shoulder. Too embarrassed to meet his gaze just yet.

“Is that right?” Logan husks.

The word slips from you, “Maybe.”

“I like maybe.”

That emboldens you to look. He’s close now, a mimicry of the night before - just on the other side.

The hand still hovers, in that narrow gap between you. Fingers flexing around the bundle of bills, “I still want you to take this.”

“Well, I don’t want it.” Your head shakes, “Maybe just for some new sheets, but I thought-“

There’s a different intent in the way he crowds you, now. A softer slope of his shoulders, the sweep of his thumb against your skin.

“Thought what?”

The low husk makes you squirm. His eyes half-lidded when you glance at him. The heat of his anger morphing into a much different kind of fire.

“Thought that if it was already ruined…” You trail off, as you smile.

As you hope.

“….maybe you’d want to ruin it a little more with me, sometime?”

There’s the slightest pull of his lips, as he smirks.

You make it inside, but no further than the couch. It’s familiar, the way his hand cradles the base of your neck. The muted sigh, when your lips part at the sweep of his tongue.

Laid down against the cushions, legs spread to fit him between them. Hips that dip down, the meat of his thigh nudging against your core, sending your heart racing.

How he chases after you, when you forget to breathe. Leaning in you as your fingers twist in his hair, tugging him closer.

Need pounds in your vein, matching the pulse in your throat when his lips press against it. Wandering hands, one that palms the curve of your breast. A throaty hum when he can feel the tight peak through the fabric, pinching it between thumb and forefinger.

The other skating up your bare thigh, raising goosebumps. Slipping beneath the hem of your dress, his leg shifting to make room. Fingertips stroking against your inner thigh - the soft crease as you whine into his mouth, feeling how his lips curve as he kisses you.

You’re wet already. You know you are - since that spark of realization, then the moment when his mouth pressed against yours. Fueled by the heavy weight of him as he guided you beneath him, smelling like smoke and wood and the sharp bite of leather.

Wound up by this teasing, and it’s enough that your hand is catching his wrist, pulling his palm flush with your core.

The moan it pulls from you is ragged. Logan’s hand is warm where he cups you, curling fingers against the curve of your ass, heel pressing against your seam.

Another rock of his hand, until there’s a soft “please” slipping from your lips. Fingers slip beneath then - a ragged curse muttered against your lips as they part you.

Slipping against where you’re wet and warm. The tips of two pressing against your opening, feeling how you give for him.

“Should let me make it up to you.” Logan’s voice is ragged, as he sinks to the knuckle. A slow pump as you clench down around them, a lift of your hips as you try to take more.

It’s on the tip of your tongue to protest.

Remind him it was just a misunderstanding, but then your eyes are fluttering open, seeing how his dark gaze is fixed on you.

Your answer is quiet, “Okay. S’long as you don’t stop.”

There’s the flash of sharp teeth. You mourn the weight of him as he eases off of you, fingers slipping free. But it’s only to catch your thighs - smearing slick across your skin as he moves to the floor. Tugging you until legs spread wide for him, hips at the edge of the couch.

There’s a hitch of your breath, as you hold it. His lips pressing against your knee, as his hand bundle up the fabric. A slow reveal as he fists it around his fingers, bringing it up to rest against your abdomen.

His kisses follow the path his fingers took. Open-mouthed against your thigh, until his tongue dips out to taste the soft skin where your leg meets hip.

“Logan,” You huff - needy, “Don’t tease.”

His eyes lift from where they lingered - the darkened patch of fabric between your thighs.

“Been teasing me since I left. Couldn’t stop thinking about this.” It comes out rough, his eyes flicking back down.

“But I thought-,” You start. It’s hard to think when he’s this close, the press of his thumb into the joint of your knee - keeping your legs spread, “Thought you were mad.”

Logan huffs. Lips ghosting against your skin, as he inhales, “At the thought of never having you again.”

It’s like being struck by an arrow, piercing clean through. The little gasp turning long, as his hand slips up your thigh. Catching at the waistband of your panties - tugging them down so he can get his mouth on you.

The tip of his tongue meets you before his lips do. A low groan as it flattens against your slit, tasting your arousal. His nose pressing against your mound as he teases at your clit. Slipping down to dip inside you, as your nails scrape against the cushions.

Slicking you up with his tongue. The buzzing groan of his lips against your skin as he eats you - open-mouthed kisses against your core. Tight licks against your clit, before his lips close around and suck.

It leaves you a mess. Short panting breath, as he gives you what you need. His name melding in with your gasps, as that string inside you winds tighter and tighter.

The pressure eases and you whimper as he leans back, jaw working. Lips shiny where he’s smeared with you - watching how you clench for him as he lets spit pool on his tongue, before it’s dropping against your folds.

It’s filthy, the way he rubs it into your skin. Coating his fingers before the two are notching again, before sinking deep into you.

A moan is pulled from you, with the stretch. Stealing your breath, even with how eager you are. Giving you more. That dull ache easing as his mouth returns to you. Hungry in the way he groans against your skin, as if he was getting off to your pleasure.

The time before doesn’t compare to now. The full focus of his fingers, buried deep and crooking. Pointed flicks of his tongue - the way his eyes are so fixed on your face.

Catching the pull of your brow and the way your teeth sink into your lip. Keeping the pounding pace steady when he sees how you gasp, your fingers fisting in his flannel. Relentless in the way they stroke against the spot that makes you see stars.

It sends you higher and higher. A groan against your skin when you buck into his mouth. Another one, louder, when your hand slips to his hair and tugs.

“Feels so fucking good, Logan,” You’re babbling now - desire slurring the syllables, “I’m so, I’m so close-”

Those dark eyes settle over you - his mouth busy but it’s not hard to imagine the way he’d encourage you. The husk of his voice, that tough timber as a low command melds with praise. The thought is enough to send you over - with the soft suck of his mouth, the way his fingers fill you.

Your knees dig into his shoulders as you curl inward - that hand at your belly pressing you flat against the cushions as you come. Making you take what he gives you - the flick of his tongue going lazy as the tight pulse around his fingers ebbs.

The tension leeches from you, turning to glitter in your veins. That tight knot of worry slowly unfurling - giving you something to grasp, hold onto, as you come back down. A sigh when his fingers slip from you. The hungry press of teeth against your inner thigh, a reminder that he’s there. Soothing it with the swipe of his tongue after.

Easing back as you push yourself up - his shoulder pressing into the edge of the couch as he sits on the floor. Your limbs are liquid as you slip down to join him - Logan’s broad hands gripping at your waist, your thighs splitting as you throw a leg across his lap.

“You’re too good at that.” You hum, as you settle in his lap bare, spit-slick against his jeans. Against where he strains, a breath hissed out as you tug at his belt. Reaching to help you - loosening the button, tugging at the zipper.

A lift of his hips to push his jeans down, his cock full and hard where it rests against your belly. His hands reaching for the hem of your dress, tugging it from you. Fingers slipping around to loosen your bra as your mouth meets his.

He tastes like you, as he licks into your mouth - a sweet tang that blends with him. His shaft pressing against your pussy as he lifts his hips, grinding himself into you. You push yourself up onto your knees - his lips parting with a groan as your fingers circle him, holding him steady.

It breaks off - a sharp hiss, when you sink down.

There’s no slow slide this time. Too eager, in the way you drop down. Taking half of him at once, with a breath that chokes you. His fingers pinching hard enough to bruise, as his brow knits.

“Easy, sweetheart.” He grits, “Not going anywhere, alright?”

It soothes you, as your nails bite into his shoulders. Pink marks that ebb away by the time you start moving - a slow bounce until you’re sitting flush on his lap, cock speared inside you.

It’s also different than last time. He’d been deep, then. Your faced pressed into the mattress as you had panted - but now -

Now, his mouth is at your shoulder. Lips pressed against the fading mark he had left. That tight grip of his hands loosening, as he guides you - letting your hips rock. A shallow drag of his cock inside you, feeling like he’s in your ribs.

Another press of his mouth against your sternum. Hands slipping down to wrap around your thighs, encouraging you to lift a little more. Enough that he can get his mouth on you - his tongue laving across a nipple. Groaning as you press your chest against him, leaning into the suck of his lips, the nip of teeth.

His thrusts like this are shallow, punctuated by the occasional deep thrust that has you panting. Has your fingers loosening to slip between your thighs, pressing against your clit.

You can feel the scrape of his facial hair. The ease of his hands as he lets you drop, until he’s buried in you again. Catching at your wrist, tugging your hand back to his shoulder.

“Uh-uh.” Logan tongue clicks, eyes dark, “Just keep riding, honey.”

His fingers replace yours. Slick circles, a pressure that makes you clench down hard around him.

A soft coo, as your breathing shortens - turning to whimpers.

“Lemme make you feel good.”

And this is new, too - how close he is. Those hazel eyes focused so singularly on you, it’s almost too much.

“You do make me feel good,” You breathe, letting your lips press against his cheek, ‘You’re, oh-”

His hips stutter, where he flexes into you. Your own pace sloppy - grinding instead of bouncing, chasing the building pleasure in your core. The soft sounds you make growing louder. His legs flexing beneath you, feet going flat against the floor so he can drive himself up.

There’s that tell-tale clench. The way your vision starts to go blurry, words slipping into sounds.

“Logan.” You, “I’m-,”

He can feel it - the way you tighten as he pounds into you. The glaze of your eyes, the throaty moan as you start to string stiff in his arm.

“That’s it,” Logan rasps, face tipped up to yours, “You gonna come for me?”

Your moan pitches high.

He grins.

“Then let me hear how pretty you sound. Come on, sweetheart.”

With the circle of his fingers, you’re shattering.

A soft cry as you come again, gushing against the cock that only pounds harder. Drawing out the flutter of your cunt as he grips your thighs, rocking into you. A ragged moan as he feels how you flutter around him, head tipped back. An arm wrapping around you back as he tips forward, bringing you down to the floor.

You head cushioned on the pile of discard clothes. His knees brace against the rug as the angle changes, sending him deeper. Lifting your hips, eyes fixed on where he drives into you. The gleam of his cock where he’s soaked with your release, how he slips between your puffy folds.

His teeth grit. Fingers flexing against your skin. A rough moan when your hips move to meet his thrusts.

“You want me to come in you again?” There’s an edge to his voice. Eyes fixed on your face, searching.

You nod, but it’s not enough.

His hips snap harder, breath ragged, “Ask me for it, Sugar.”

It makes your stomach clench. Something deep burning, liquid heat in your core. Your legs hitch around his waist, hooking around his back.

“Want you to come in me,” You beg, “Logan, please-”

His eyes flutter shut. The muscles in his neck flex, as he arcs over you - a hand braced on the floor, pricks of silver glinting between his knuckles.

A rough growl that turns into something soft as his hips snap forward - hilting himself as he comes. Hips pumping with each pulse of his cock, as he spills deep inside you. As you milk him dry, until the heavy throb of his cock fades.

He’s beautiful. It leaves you dizzy.

You really might just have to bake him another.

The golden sunset seeps through the windows, spilling across the floor.

“You wanna stay?”

It comes out drowsy. Your limbs are liquid, even more so than last time, “I know a great takeout place.”

You’ll need a little fuel, if tonight goes as it did before.

He hums - the brush of bare fingers down your spine. It’s cramped on the couch, entwined limbs. Sweat-dewed in the summer evening.

“You still wanna get to know me?”

Your nose brushes his throat. Cheek pressed up against the curl of his shoulder - where he can just feel you nod, “I would. If you’ll let me.”

“Yeah,” Logan rasps, quietly.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.”

I can't even express how just - grateful and thrilled and happy I am that so many of you liked sugar, sugar! thank you for the encouragement for this part 2, and I hope you liked it! 💖 I have one more part planned (though open for more!) that I've been working on, along with more for the wade x f!reader x logan fic as well!

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #wolverine smut #logan howlett #james logan howlett x reader #xmen x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x f!reader

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fushitoru · 29 days ago

Text

finish her! a toji fushiguro oneshot

pairing ⸺ wrestler!toji x reader

summary ⸺ you will have to face one of the most formidable wrestlers in history in your next match: toji fushiguro. but don't be confused, this isn't normal wrestling⸺no, it's nude wrestling. and winner gets the spoils of the other's body! (extended ver of my toji drabble here) creds to @/reynisxxsimart on twitter for art!

warnings ⸺ nasty, NASTY smut, VERY public sex, WWE but pornhub edition, you’re a wrestler fighting toji, so some violence but nothing graphic, fem!reader, HUMILIATION, degradation, you're literally fucked in an arena of people, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spanking, oral sex (f! recieving), boobplay, very inaccurate depiction of wrestling/WWE, not edited we die like toji

a/n im going to sit in the corner and think about what i just wrote

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

the muffled sounds of the crowd’s deafening roar seem to swirl in the space around you, each cheer vibrating through your chest like distant thunder. you take a long, cool sip of water, a welcome contrast to the warm air backstage. lounging back, you let the chair support your weight, your muscles still humming with the residual tension of anticipation. utahime’s fingers work into your shoulders, and her voice filters through the buzzing atmosphere, calm and steady as she gives you a rundown of the night ahead, though her words seem to blur slightly at the edges—just background noise to the constant hum of adrenaline.

“in front of a crowd—do you understand? and the rules are no fucking, unless all clothes are off first.”

“right,” you affirm, albeit hesitantly. you’re feeling a bit jitterish in anticipation of what’s to happen, despite having trained months to hone your ability as a wrestler. look, wwe itself can get really suggestive at times, with people giving wedgies, removing certain articles of clothing, or even letting the crowd cop a feel of the defeated to serve as humiliation. not only does it improve publicity, but it also increases viewership of all the horny bastards on the internet to circle the televised clip around in their subreddits or discord servers.

but what you were going to do today—that was a bit…extreme. it was like bridging the gap between soft core and hard core, with the humiliation turned up to a hundred. because today, you were going to wrestle the man that all female–and male–wrestlers could even dream of having their hands on, even if for a slight moment.

toji fushiguro.

a man of impressive build—entering a ring with him only meant defeat. he’s had numerous career wins, far exceeding any other. hell, you shouldn’t even be matched to wrestle with him today; he outweighs and outranks you by far. the only thing you really have running for you is the sheer amount of fans you have, ready to tune in to your fights and edit your moves and time spent in the fighting ring to songs like “chun li” and “maneater.” so, sure, you don’t exactly anticipate a win today in that stadium that’s waiting for you, but you’re no less of a wrestler in your own right. you won’t go down without a fight.

however, today was no normal fight. the wwe had suddenly decided that their viewership was too low, that extreme measures needed to be taken to boost. so, ironically enough they had decided to change the rules just before your momentous match:

all wrestlers must consent to having all and any articles of clothing removed from their person, particularly for sexual intercourse as a reward for the winner.

so, WWE (Pornhub’s Version) (In The Vault).

and your luck dictated that this paradigm shift for the organization occur just before your most anticipated match with toji. again, you knew that no amount of training could prevent you from getting utterly humiliated, but it was almost like the gods were laughing down on you, eager to rub in your impending defeat once more. because you were going to get your shit fucked up—-literally.

“it’s going to be fine,” utahime assures you, and you snap back to the present from your thoughts at the sound of her voice. “just think about the publicity this’ll get you! not that you don’t have any fans of yourself, but there are going to be a lot of people tuned in because of fushiguro.”

you take an inhale in and nod. “yea, that’s true. i just want to get it over with.”

as if answering your prayers, gojo satoru, the mc, burst into your dressing room. “it’s your time to shine, buttercup!” he grins, ushering you out the door. albeit a bit nervously, you stand up and make your way into the hallway that leads directly into the middle of the arena. “you’re going to do great!”

as soon as you walk closer and closer to the arena, the screams get louder and louder, the music booming and causing the floor under you to vibrate. the sounds of people surround all your senses, wrapping you up and causing your heartbeat to go faster and faster.

reaching the end of the hallway, the arena is filled with light, and you have to blink to get a hold of your sight. surrounding the center boxing ring are stands upon stands of people, hustling and bustling. at the sight of you, cameramen stationed around in various spots through the arena furiously angle their cameras towards you. not only are journalists and the media snapping pictures, blinding you with the flash, but you see yourself displayed on the big screens visible to everyone in the arena. you smile and wave, causing your fans to scream as they register that you have walked in.

then, a realization washes over you. these are the same screens that are going to be projected whatever's going to happen during the fight and when you lose.

oh god.

you walk forward, trying to keep up your smile and wave to all of your fans that outstretched their hands, trying to cop a feel and/or get a high five. most of your fans are male (to no one's surprise), and you can feel their eyes roving over you appreciatively, taking in your outfit. it was simple and tight; shorts that just barely covered your ass and was snug around your hips, and a low cut top that couldn't even be called a top. your cleavage was on full display, and the top stopped just below your waist. typically, this is your wrestling attire you wear to a normal match, but you couldn't help but wryly notice that today, your neckline was cut lower than usual. the wwe was really trying to milk this, huh?

you stood just below the boxing ring, eyes anxiously scanning the arena, unconsciously searching for the man you were set to fight. but no matter how hard you looked, you couldn't spot his tall, muscular figure either in the ring or in the seat he was supposed to occupy with his manager.

a light tap on your shoulder startled you, and you turned to find utahime behind you, a concerned look on her face. "everything alright?"

"yeah," you said, waving her off with a forced smile. "but where is he?"

utahime pointed toward the boxing ring, and then you saw it—a glimpse of black hair.

"alright," you said, swallowing nervously. "i'm heading into the ring. wish me luck."

"wait!" utahime called out, but you were already too far to hear her. gripping the ropes at the edge of the ring, you hauled yourself up and strode toward the center, determined to get a better view. and there, just on the far side of the ring, hidden from your previous angle, was toji fushiguro.

he was lounging back, relaxed, his posture almost lazy as he faced his manager, shiu kong. you couldn’t see toji's face from this angle, but his body language indicated that he was the epitome of ease. shiu was saying something to him, and from your best attempt at lip reading, you could just make out the words, "don't break the rules today."

toji, on the other hand, didn't seem to be looking at him (giving 0 fucks, something so classically toji), focusing now towards the big screens everyone else saw in the arena. you turned your gaze towards them as well, only to be taken aback when it was you, a compilation of your best moments in the ring, narrated by gojo.

“and today, fellas, we’re going to see the bombshell y/n—the maneater, as coined by her fans—-competing! while her opponent is fushiguro, don’t be fooled—she can pack a mean punch. look at this fight with mei mei; she sweeped the floor with her face!”

satisfied, you looked around, the arena bustling with people getting drinks, being enraptured with your fight on the screen, or pointing at you or toji. toji, on the other hand, was chuckling and shaking his head at your fight, observing as you gave the bitch mei mei a wedgie. which kind of made you flustered, because you had developed a crush on the guy observing him from afar or in passing, so you just focused on shaking out your legs and arms in nervousness.

gojo similarly announced toji’s fights and compilation, gassing him up for the crowd and it was then that toji finally turned around, uninterested in whatever was going on, and caught your eye. you stared back, breath held involuntarily.

his eyes had a predatory glint to them, and he smiled, charmingly in a way that showed off his scar, and they scanned up and down your figure, taking in what you were wearing—or rather, letting his imagination run. nervously, your heart sped up as you clenched your thighs up in anticipation or anxiety, you couldn’t choose which, as your mind began running at the speed of light thinking about what was going to happen today.

today, you weren’t only going to wrestle toji fushiguro. you were going to fuck him.

but you’re jolted out of your thoughts as gojo’s obnoxious voice blares through the speakers. “give it up for thee wwe goat, toji fushiguro!”

screams reach an all time high as his smirk is broadcasted to the audience, biceps bulging and flexing as he heaves his way up on the ring, joining you. he waves lazily, roars at an all time high as he stalks his way to you, and you squeeze your nails into your palm out of nervousness.

when gojo announces your name, the male screams rise up in volume, causing you to giggle and fushiguro to roll his eyes from what you can see in the corner of your eye. you give a dainty wave, choosing to wink and blow a kiss to the camera in front of you, causing your fans to scream even louder.

“you sure got a lotta fanboys, darling.” you jump as toji has now bent down to whisper in your ear, literally sending shivers down your spine.

you force out a laugh. “and you're at no shortage of fangirls yourself, fushiguro.”

he gives you a nonchalant hum, assuming his original position. as gojo continued to yap about the stakes of the round today, the recent rule change, a referee walked over to you both, coming in closer so that you would be able to hear him over the chaos of the arena.

“so, you’re both aware of the rules, right?” he both looked at you, to which you nodded and toji’s smirk widens. “you gotta get the other’s clothes completely off, and the first one to do that wins.”

you gulp, eyeing what toji was wearing today. it was his signature garb, the one he wore to almost every match without fail: grey pants with various sponsorships sewed on, and a black compression shirt. it was definitely very minimal compared to what a lot of the other wrestlers wore, but it was iconic, giving him a lazy, laid back aura that no other wrestler could truly emanate.

it wasn’t anything hard to take off in particular.

both of you affirmed your consent to the referee, who then took a step back after wishing you both good luck. you turned, facing toji face on, who had his hand on his hip. “try to last long, okay?” he smirks, patting your shoulder with his other hand. “i’ll try to drag this out as much as i can, but it’s gonna be fuckin hard if that ass is grinding against me.”

you glare, but there isn’t much intensity to it because you know he’s much stronger than you. there isn’t much to get angry about. “yea, yea,” you huff. “for all i know, you’ll be my personal dildo today.”

he barks out a laugh and looks at the referee, who has one hand raised, the other one poised on his whistle, ready to blow and start the round. it’s starting soon. then, he looks back to you and smiles. “let the games begin.”

the referee blows the whistle.

at once, you launch yourself towards toji, trying to jump on him to get him off his feet with your weight. instead, he dodges easily and leaves you hurtling towards the floor, making you poise yourself on your hands and feet upon impact. you roll over just as toji tries to tackle you and pin you against your original position on the floor and quickly get up.

however, as you’re steadying yourself on your feet, toji grabs your ankle, causing you to lose your balance and giving him the advantage to pin himself on top of you, his mouth breathing heavily next to your ear, whispering so it was just the two of you that could hear his words. “what do you think i should take off first?” he laughs deeply, the vibration causing you to shiver and try to squirm to get out of his hold, to no avail. “should it be these?” he snakes his hands down to grope your tits, giving them a firm squeeze, much to the arena’s pleasure. “or should i take these off of you?” he slaps your ass, making you blush furiously.

“fuck you,” you hiss as his hands catch on the edge of your shorts.

he gives you a sweet, small kiss on your temple. “don’t worry, baby,” he smiles. “you’ll be doing that anyways.” and with that, he pulls at your shorts until the waistband’s elastic rips, leaving your shorts in tatters until he throws the remains of it away, baring your panty-covered ass to the crowd, which immediately grows wild.

you crane your neck to look at the screen, which is currently focused on toji’s hands feeling up your ass, dipping inside your underwear to knead the flesh. your heart is pounding, the thought i need to get the upper hand flashing continuously across your mind. it’s almost as if you’re drowning, the noises of the crowd blurring together until it was only you and toji’s weight on you. you barely heard the announcer exclaim, “toji is currently in the lead!” as you focused on calculating your next move.

it was time to pull out all the stops.

turning your head until you were making eye contact with him, you bit your lip, momentarily distracted him with the 180 turn of your actions, now nonchalant rather than the flailing you were doing earlier. then, you raised your hips, meeting your backside with his crotch in an effort to catch him off guard and to make him lose balance. then, you maneuvered yourself so your thighs surround toji’s waist and hump your hips against his bulge. this momentarily distracted and weakened toji, and you take full advantage of it by overtaking him and now straddling him. you quickly take off his shirt, salivating at the muscles you see. the whole stadium, in fact, can see his abs and pecs glistening with sweat.

smirking while peering down at him, you slowly grind your hips as if you were riding a mechanical bull, making a show of spinning around his shirt with your hand to mock him. toji’s eyes darken, but a mirthless smile flashes across his face anyways. “damn, take me out to dinner first.”

you flash him one of your own humorless smirks, happy that you got at least one thing against him. “i don’t fuck anyone before the first day, honey. this is just another cheap fuck.” with that, you yank his head back with his hair roughly, making a show of motorboating his pecs, as if to mock him.

instead of getting angry, he chuckles darkly. “you’re going to regret that. i was going to drag this out, princess, but i gotta fuck the brat out of you.” with that, he spins you around just as quickly—if not quicker—pinning you against the ground with your hands held above your head in one hand in a vice grip, the other groping its way down your body. he buries his face in your neck, salaciously licking the length of it. with his free hand—now stationed around your tits—he grabs at the hem of your top, pulling it up so everyone could see your lace bra. mockingly, he plants his face in the middle of your tits, moving his head side by side to motorboat you just as you had done to him, the soft plush of your tits encompassing his face.

the crowd cheers, even more so than they had when you had ripped his shirt off, as toji completely rips the top off as you squirm, making the removal even easier for him. you can feel all eyes on you as toji reaches for the clip of your bra, unhooking it and making your tits pop out. helplessly, you look at the screen, your writhing making them move in a jiggling motion, sweat shining and giving you the “oiled-up” look. he takes a moment to grope them, your whines ignored as he pinches your nipples. “what a sensitive girl,” he coos. “too bad she was too weak. now she’s going to have to take my cock.”

with that, he teasingly closes the distance between the waistband of your panties and his teeth, mouth snagging on the elastic. slowly, he drags them down, unveiling your glistening pussy for all eyes to see, and the crowd goes wild, chanting random requests at toji to do the most heinous things to you. as soon as you’re completely naked, he grabs you by the waist, propping you up against one of the corner posts. you’re now standing up, tearfully facing the arena as the wrestler kneels behind you, burying his face and nosing his way until your pussy, lapping up your wetness.

at the unexpected feeling of his tongue, you yelp, and toji slaps your ass. “stay still.” acquiescing, he licks up long stripes and shakes his head to grind his nose into your cunt, pleasuring you while humiliating you in front of everyone, forcing you to succumb to the pleasure he’s making you feel. while licking you, he groans. “fuck, this pussy is so sweet. i’ve run out of patience, fuck the performance part.”

with that, toji flips you over so you’re on your hands and knees on the floor and pulls down his pants. you don’t even look back at the monster that’s about to enter you for the sake of your mental health, but your legs are shaking in anticipation of his cock, slick dripping down your thighs.

he drags his cock teasingly through your folds, and then brings it out to slap it against your ass, humming appreciatively at the recoil. then, as if he’s lost patience, he’s slowly entering you, pushing against your pussy’s resistance as he penetrates you in front of the whole arena. “fuck!” he groans, getting a better grip on you as he pushes your head down on the mat and fully goes to pound town.

the humiliating plap! plap! plap! of his hips against the flesh of your ass echoing multiple strangers watch your pussy get wrecked. “the fuck this pussy’s so tight for? thought you were a slut?”

you’re tearing up, the feeling of his dick hitting your g-spot straight on making you clench hard, overwhelmed by the feeling of him pummeling you and his hands on your body, feeling you up. clearly, he knew how to pleasure a woman, and it made you all the more annoyed. you were fucked out, but not fucked out enough to prevent you from snarkily replying, “you’re not turning me on, small dick.”

he did not like that very much.

toji drills his hips into yours faster and slaps your ass multiple times consecutively. “yea, so why is she clenching so fucking much? why is she dripping, you whore?” as if to demonstrate his point, he brings his fingers to rub at your clit furiously, collecting the wetness that had dripped down from your hole then shoving his fingers into your mouth. “suck.” when you did just that, suckling at his fingers while hollowing your hot, wet heat around the appendages.

at that, he groaned. “what a little cockwhore. shoulda made you suck my dick instead.”

in retaliation, you bite his fingers, hard, and then spit them out. “i would’ve bit your micro off.”

toji hisses, grabbing the hair at your scalp and pulling on it until your face was up, his mouth at your ear. “just for that, i’m going to come inside of your slutty pussy.” he speeds up, moving his hips faster and fast. the hand that wasn’t at your hair is now sneaking his way down your back, until you gasp.

because he’s inserted his thumb inside your ass.

“oh, ho ho,” he laughs mockingly. “you liked that, didn’t you?” you offer him no response, choosing instead to focus on the feeling of the sheer amount of pressure you were feeling down there, being doubly stuffed. by now, your orgasm has been steadily building because of the sheer power of toji’s stroke game, but as soon as he hits your spot one last time, your eyes roll back, causing you to arch your back and writhe due to the intensity of your orgasm.

you’re breathing heavily, toji fucking you roughly through it. once you’ve gotten a hold of your sense, you come back to reality as you realize that the crowd has adopted a rhythm to their chants, your fans and his screaming the same thing.

cum! cum! cum!

and toji only chortles as he continues your thirst, looking at you once again, and you can tell that he’s staving his orgasm back just after experiencing your clenches with the way he’s biting his lips, sweat running down from his temple to his abs. “what do you say, baby? wanna give the crowd what they’re asking for?”

all it takes is a whimpered please, and toji just does what the crowd asks of him. ropes of his cum fill you, and you drop down in exhaustion to hear toji declared as winner.

as you exhaustedly lift your head up, you see that cameras are out all around you, focused on the screen. you’re flustered when you realize the billboard is displaying toji’s cum seeping out of you.

A hand on your shoulder. “you good?” toji’s looking at you, eyes twinkling.

you let out a breath. “yea,” you laugh, out of breath. “good round.”

and he’s huffing, giving you a hand to get on your back. you can only lie on the ground as he barks for clothes to be put on you and for some water. then he turns to look at you once more, eyes twinkling. “wanna go for more in my hotel?”

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n i was going to have him carry u up near to the stands where your fans could grab at ur titties but this is alr depraved as it is. now im going to take a breather from tumblr for the rest of this week becasue WHEW ch5 gojo yesterday and finished this today i am ON A ROLL. see you guys for next week's kinktober fic (comment if you want to be tagged)! much love<3

reblog and comments are much appreciated!!!!!

taglist:

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto @cheescakebroom

@r0ckst4rjk

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slushycoookie · 2 months ago

Text

What's That Smell? ~ Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

✩ Word Count: 3.1k

✩ Content: Worst!Logan and Hairdresser! Reader. Wade acts like he's innocent in this, but he's not. Pheromone perfume. Logan doesn't go feral, but he gets there. P in V. Vaginal Fingering. Squirting. MINORS DNI!!

✩ A/N: I had to write about my man reacting to pheromone perfume. Enjoy!

Masterlist | Commissions

“Happy birthday!”

Wade hands you a pink gift bag stuffed with sparkly tissue paper. “It's not my birthday.”

“You're so silly.” He waves you away with a sensible chuckle. “It's someone's birthday somewhere. Anyway, I saw this and thought of you.”

You pull out a small bottle of perfume decorated in a crystal clear color. The design looked oddly familiar, but you couldn't pinpoint where you saw it. “Oh, thanks. I've been meaning to get some more perfume.”

“Well, the gods answered, and as your friend, I am known for reading my friend’s minds.”

You're pretty sure Logan brought it up to him one day, but you didn’t question it. You thanked him with a hug, and he mentioned something about doing a fashion show for Mary Puppins when he left your apartment.

It was nice of Wade to give you a gift. He's always been generous towards you since you were with Logan, but you didn’t expect something like this.

You even mentioned Wade's generosity to Logan later on, who gave a questionable raise of an eyebrow.

“Really? He bought you perfume?”

“Yeah.” You pull out the bag and show him the bottle. “Wasn't that sweet of him?”

Logan squints at the bottle, still not convinced. “I guess so.”

“You guess so.” You rolled your eyes. “Can’t you believe that he wanted to be nice? He doesn't seem like the type to play a cruel joke.”

“Cruel isn't the word I'd use.” He grumbles.

You place the pink gift bag back on your dresser, reminding yourself to use it the next time you go out.

That next time was for running errands. You had to restock the kitchen, enough to last you and your superhero boyfriend, who loves to eat and drink, for a couple of weeks. Plus, you needed to get more supplies for the salon. Logan would meet up with you at the store since he spent the night back at Wade's to prep for Mary Puppin's first day at doggy school. You could tell from the brief phone call last night that he was worn out.

You throw on an oversized t-shirt, leggings, and sneakers. Not the most attractive outfit. Before you left, your eyes landed on the gift bag. Harmlessly, you sprayed Wade's perfume behind your ears and the space between your bicep and forearm.

Running errands was serious for you. You weren't the biggest fan of spending hours at the store, wasting time grabbing groceries. Logan agreed with you on that front, as he didn’t want to waste time either.

Once you stepped foot inside the store, you were ready. With a list in hand, you were filled with total concentration. A few minutes later, there was a shift.

You received a lot more attention.

Many people coming up to you to tell you smell good. You just started in the produce aisle, and four people approached you. It surprised you the multitude of compliments you were getting despite having the appearance of a bum. Others were making conversation while you were trying to shop, asking you simple questions about good salad dressing brands. Or how many spices you have in your home. Trying to get closer to you.

One man didn't seem to get the hint that you were busy. He offered to help you with your groceries while you were in the cereal aisle. Logan's favorite brand of raisin bran was on a high shelf, causing said man to grab it for you. You were polite, but maybe you shouldn't have been, as he constantly hovered around you. Drawn to you for reasons you can't explain. Talking your ear off about whatever he could think of.

“You probably have your own shopping to do. I don't want to distract you.” You say, hoping politely declining him would make him take the hint.

“No, no, it's alright. I don't want to leave a defenseless person like you.”

You hold back at getting annoyed, “…it's a grocery store.”

“Still, I just think-”

“You got cotton in your fucking ears?” In a blink, Logan grabs the intruding guy by his shoulder, effortlessly pushing him away. “She didn't need any fucking help, bub.”

The guy scoffs, rolling his hips to make himself look more arduous, “And who are you?”

“Her boyfriend, who isn't afraid to make you a pathetic stain on the ground.”

You knew he meant it, but you also didn’t want to get banned as you really liked this store. The guy took the hint, leaving the cereal aisle like a defeated puppy.

“My hero.” You kiss Logan's cheek and see him sniff the air. He turns towards you, pupils almost blown. Before you can ask if he's alright, he grabs your wrist, smelling the space between your bicep and forearm. The action makes you laugh a little.

“What's that smell?” Logan takes a few more sniffs, and you feel blood rush to your cheeks. “It's sweet. Really fucking sweet.”

“O-Oh, I put on perfume today.” You didn't need to ask if he liked it as he was glued to your form, sniffing behind your ears, his breath fanning your neck.

“Is this new? I've never smelled this before.”

“Yeah, it's the one from Wade.”

Logan lets out a groan that sends straight to your core. Goosebumps coat your flesh, and you shudder when his hands creep under your shirt to feel your bare skin. His touch was hot, almost making your back arch. You had to remember you were in a grocery store. There were eyes on you two, and you had to regain some control, or else there'd be two new names on the sex offender list.

“Baby, we got things to do.”

You pull away from him, trying to ignore Logan's dejected face at the fact they had errands to run. He hardly said anything else after that. He delegated his role to being the silent shopper, pushing the cart and responding briefly whenever you talked to him. To anyone else, he gave off the appearance of a man not wanting to go grocery shopping. You knew it was something else when you noticed his knuckles turning white from gripping the cart. Everything in your body warned you not to get close to him until the errands were done.

An unsettled feeling arose inside your stomach when the two of you were outside, a cart filled with groceries. Logan mentioned he brought Althea's car, which is one of the few words he's said since then.

He told you to wait in the car while he put the groceries in the trunk. You wanted to help, but he pushed you to go inside, almost gritting his teeth. There, you sat on the passenger side while waiting for him to finish. Logan was taking his time and acting completely different from your usual outings. At one point, you saw him with his head towards the sky, taking heavy breaths, hands on his hips.

You had a feeling this was your fault somehow.

When Logan got inside, you ask, “You okay?”

“No.” He doesn't start the car yet. You could see the veins across his hands when he gripped the steering wheel. “You don't know how fucking good you smell right now. It's everywhere. My nose, my head, my thoughts. You don't know bad I'm trying not to rip your clothes off and fuck you in the backseat. ”

You didn't know what to say, but you liked it. Your thighs squeezed together at how a couple of spritzes of perfume were affecting him.

“Is it that bad? Do you wanna go home instead?”

Logan shakes his head, “You still have to go to the beauty store.”

“I can get those things another day-”

“No, sugar. I'm not ruining your plans because of a damn perfume.”

Butterflies tangle in your stomach. This man still had ways to make you shiver. You just needed to be a responsible adult for a bit longer.

The beauty store was five minutes away, but being in the car with Logan felt like an eternity. His large hand rested on your thigh, creating heat through his palm. Your thoughts wanted him to go higher, near your sex, to feel how horny you were getting. The car started getting warmer too, sweat forming on your brow. If Logan hadn't smelled you earlier, he would probably have smelled you now.

“I'll go in with ya.” He offers when pulling into a parking spot.

“No need! I'll probably be a bit anyway.”

You rush out of the car before he can say anything else. Practically running inside the store so you can get your mind straight. Your boyfriend's words were hovering in your mind, and you resisted the urge to turn back around and have him go by his word.

You needed to calm your mind. Hopefully shopping for more supplies would help and Logan staying in the car.

“Now, what kind of man would I be if I let my lady go in alone?” Logan's gruff tone sent chills across your spine and his arm around your waist to press against your back. No words escaped you as he sniffed behind your head. “Say something.”

“Logan…” You let out a shaky breath, trying not to falter at the proximity. He couldn’t resist copping a feel on your breast, which made you bite your lip. “There are cameras.”

He grunts, burying his face in your neck as you two stand awkwardly in the shampoo aisle. Thank goodness there was no one nearby to witness it.

“I'm behaving.”

“Barely.”

When you were usually out to restock, you were quick, decisive, a separate list on hand to make sure you had everything you needed for the salon. This time, you were slower and more distracted as Logan was glued to your hip. Giving you extra hugs after picking up an item you need on your list. A gentle kiss to your neck. His arm possessively around your waist. The man wasn't even a massive fan of pda either. Whatever this perfume was had him forgo his usual self.

When people were nearby, he didn't leave your side. His large pupils were on them as if they were a threat as if they were going to take you away from him.

If you had any more errands to run, that would have to wait another day. Once you two checked out from the store, your man was about to snap.

Logan was dead silent when he started the car, his knuckles almost turning white again. The apartment was only fifteen minutes away, and you weren't sure if he would be able to hold on that long. You only noticed deep, heavy breaths that overshadowed the radio you turned on to distract yourself. You weren't sure if you wanted to ask if he was okay again. You had a feeling he was going to go true to his word to fuck you in the backseat.

Once pulling up to your apartment, you were ready to get out, but his hand held yours to stop you.

“I'll get the bags.”

“There's a lot of them, I can help-”

“No.” He cuts you off, bringing your wrist up to his face and taking a long sniff. You squeezed your thighs together at the sight. A whimper almost escaped your lips. “Go wait in our room.”

You had nothing else to say after that.

You did as you were told, sitting on the edge of the bed while holding your hands. Your heart pounding in your chest as you heard Logan bring the bags inside. You weren't sure why you were nervous. You were doing what you were told.

Maybe he told you to wait because the scent was becoming unbearable. That he couldn’t focus, or your scent was dampening his enhanced abilities. Did you mess up? All you did was put on perfume. Or did Wade mess up? Did he accidentally bring you something that affected mutants? You should’ve thought twice before accepting a gift from him.

Slow and heavy footsteps made it's way into the room. You watched Logan close the door and lock it as if there was anyone around to disturb you.

“Take off your clothes.” He starts pulling off his own shirt.

You did so, albeit a bit slower than him. Your thighs clenched as you knew your cunt was wet from all of the waiting, the touches, and kisses from the stores, his filthy words. Logan's eyes scanned your naked body when he got closer. You tried not to focus on his hard cock, red around the tip, cum leaking from it. You wondered how long he was holding that in.

“You got some type of power I don't know about?” He doesn't give you a chance to answer when he presses against your naked body. Heat coming from his chest that was making you flustered. “You secretly a mutant, and you decided not to tell me?”

“No! No, I'm not a mutant. I swear all I did was just put on some perfume-”

Logan silences you with a kiss. Hands on your sides while groaning between your lips. You thought he was mad at you, yet he was sticking his tongue down your throat. His rough hands on your sides. You hold on to him for dear life when he parts, sniffing the air, and you feel yourself getting wetter.

“Motherfucking perfume should not make you smell this good, Jesus fucking Christ.” Logan swears while he's buried against your neck again, licking and sucking along your skin. You whine at how rough he's getting, as if he needs more of you. “I won't get mad if you tell me you are a mutant right now because fuck…”

Logan picks you up and tosses you on the bed. You barely have time to recover when he flips you over on your stomach. A hand presses on your back, keeping you firmly against the mattress. His lips kiss behind your earlobe before giving it a gentle nibble. That makes you shift underneath him, causing him to shush in your ear.

“Hold still.”

You do as you're told, whimpering at the touch of his lips against your nape. A light kiss, one that makes you want to put your head back, which is followed up by a nibble. Logan does the same while trailing down your back. You feel his hands palm the globes of your ass while he does so, creating tiny circles with his thumbs.

You moan into your pillow, and you know you're embarrassingly wet now. Your cunt is pulsing with the need to have him inside you already. His fingers dip inside you, and you gasp in surprise. Logan's able to pump his thick digits into your aching hole while leaning over you again, taking another whiff of your perfume.

“Lift your hips up for me, baby.”

You struggle to move your hips as he’s still two fingers inside you, but he helps you, a firm hand on your hip. When he does so, he moves down to your clit. The two fingers coated with your wetness parted your folds, rubbing that sensitive bud. It was getting harder to do as you were told. Keeping still as he played with your pussy. Taking in how delicious you smelled with the perfume.

“Logan.” You murmured against your pillow, “Please…”

“Please? My lady's begging for me?” Logan lets out a short laugh, not stopping his fingers. “You want me to fuck that pretty pussy of yours, huh?”

“Please…” You were on the brink of tears, that familiar feeling in your stomach about to tip over. Logan didn't show you any mercy, making you sob against your sheets. His fingers rubbed your sensitive clit until you couldn’t take it anymore.

You ached for him to be inside, cunt pulsing for him to slip his cock in. Once again, the tip of his nose brushed against your ear lobe as well as his cock in your sex. Your body quivered as his chest was on your back, hovering over you for complete control.

“Think you can give me another?”

You didn't have time to answer as he started pounding into you. Sticky, wet sounds in your ears as you were pinned. Not having a single thought every time Logan's hips met with yours, mouth wide open as you were being fucked dumb. A hint of your drool staining the sheets.

The headboard banging against the wall, mattress squeaking as Logan kept going. Grunting in your ear, saying that your scent was even better after your orgasm. That he wasn't going to come until you squeezed around his thick cock. And he meant it when he rubbed against your pulsing clit. You shook, moaning at his touch and how his cock pistoned into you.

Logan was angled perfectly to where he started hitting your G-spot, causing your vision to get blurry. Still not stopping on the assault on your clit.

“Lo…Logan…” Your body was getting hotter, another climax on the horizon.

“You almost there, princess?” Your answer was only a whine, and that was good enough for him. “That’s it, that's it. Do it for me, baby.”

This orgasm was different. As you came undone, wetness coated Logan's cock, some dripping down your thighs and his own.

“Oh fuck-” Without warning, he shot up inside you. Grunting in your ear while his seed filled your cunt, mixing with your own arousal and trailing down your thighs as well. Logan lazily pumped into you to make sure you got it all while groping your ass.

You could hardly move with Logan on top of you. Thank goodness he didn't rest his total weight on you, or you'd be crushed. He waited a few moments before pulling out, leaving you to lie on your side, completely docile.

No words were said when he cleaned you up, towel between your legs as he kissed your forehead. You started getting coherent enough to realize the groceries were still out, but Logan said he already put them away for you.

With a sigh of relief, you glanced over at the perfume before reaching for your phone to look up the label. That's when your eyes went wide at the reveal.

Wade gifted you pheromone perfume.

No wonder Logan was acting unhinged all day. With his heightened sense of smell, of course something like this would affect him. That is definitely the last time you take a gift from Wade.

As you showed Logan what the perfume was, his brows furrowed in slight annoyance, calling him an asshole.

“But,” Logan folded his arms, glancing away from you. “I wouldn't mind if you wear this more often…”

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x black reader #wolverine x black reader #x black reader #logan howlett #wolverine #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine smut #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett smut #slushycoookie writes

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sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 4 months ago

Text

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴀ ғᴀʟsᴇ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀ

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Summary : Your father is fed up with your shenanigans, so he arranges a marriage to Rome's famous general and gladiator, Marcus Acacius.

Warnings: DUB-CON (Forced/Arranged marriage) SMUT, LOSS OF VIRGINITY, unprotected pinv (wrap it before you tap it), Oral F and M, Implied age gap, Scars, Misogyny, Spitting, both give switch vibes,

A/n : I put a dub-con warning just because it is a forced/arranged marriage also ty and enjoy @multiversed-daydreamer for listening to me yap about this all day luv ya 💕

The table was set, lit, and ready for a feast. Grapes, wine, cheese, and meats lined the table. Being the daughter of a powerful general had its perks, not that you liked the kind of life you had. You understood you were privileged, your place in society clear. You knew that if it weren't for your father's position, you would probably be a slave to the hierarchy. But it didn't mean you had to like your life.

You were 18 and shockingly unmarried—not that you cared. You had more fun sneaking away to the parties that would happen late at night. You were happy for the fact you weren't tied down yet. The thrill of escaping your father's watchful eye and diving into the forbidden world of Rome's underground festivities made your heart race.

You had a reputation, one that was far from ladylike. Wild child, they called you, and you wore it like a badge of honor. You knew what sex was, what things happened in the dark corners of those parties, but you were still a virgin. Your knowledge came from observation, whispers, and the daring escapades you had witnessed, but you hadn't crossed that final threshold. Not yet.

Your father, a stern and formidable general, was a man who worked with gladiators and other powerful figures in Rome. His influence was vast, and his expectations were high. He had grown increasingly frustrated with you lately, and you couldn't quite understand why. His annoyance with your antics was palpable, but there was something more, something beneath the surface that gnawed at him.

As you sat there, wine goblet in hand, you sipped slowly, savoring the taste. You knew he would tell you to only have a single glass, a rule you delighted in bending. The door to the grand hall burst open, and there he was, your father, his expression a storm of irritation and something deeper, something darker.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice echoing through the hall. "Drinking again?"

You looked up at him, feigning innocence. "Just a single glass, Father, as you always insist."

His eyes narrowed, and he crossed the room with swift, purposeful strides. "You think I don't know what you get up to, do you? Sneaking out, causing trouble. Do you have any idea how this reflects on me? On our family?"

You sighed, placing the goblet down. "I know, Father. But you can't keep me locked away forever. I'm not a child anymore."

He stood before you, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. "You're my daughter, and you will behave with the dignity and decorum befitting your station."

You met his gaze, unflinching. "And what if I don't want that life? What if I want to be free, to make my own choices?"

His frustration seemed to boil over, and for a moment, you thought he might explode. But then, he took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. "You don't understand the dangers out there. The people I deal with—the gladiators, the politicians—they're not like the ones at your little parties. They're dangerous."

You softened slightly, sensing the genuine worry behind his anger. "Then tell me, Father. Explain why you're so frustrated lately. What aren't you telling me?"

He hesitated, the walls he had built around himself momentarily crumbling. "It's complicated," he finally said, his voice quieter. "There are threats... to our family, to our position. I'm trying to protect you, even if it doesn't seem like it."

You reached out, touching his arm. "I want to understand. Help me see what you see."

He looked down at your hand, then back at your face, a mixture of anger and sorrow in his eyes. "Maybe it's time you did," he said, his voice resigned. "But you must promise me, you'll be careful. This world is not as kind as you think."

You nodded, determination filling your chest. "I promise, Father. I'll be careful. But I won't be caged."

Your father's expression hardened once more, and the momentary softness disappeared. He sat down at the table, grabbing a handful of grapes and popping one into his mouth. "Enough. This isn't up for discussion," he snapped. "You are to be married."

Your heart plummeted. "Married? To whom?"

His eyes were cold as steel. "To a man who can protect you, who can secure our family's future."

You jumped to your feet, the chair scraping harshly against the floor. "No! I don't want to be married off like some piece of property. I won't do it!"

He towered over you, his presence suffocating. "You have no choice. This is for your own good."

"Who is it then?" you demanded, your voice rising in defiance. "Is it Lucius? That lecherous old man who can't keep his hands to himself?"

Your father shook his head, his jaw clenched. "No, not Lucius."

"Is it Gaius, then?" you asked, pacing around the table, barely noticing your father grabbing a slice of cheese and eating it with deliberate calmness. "The pompous fool who thinks he's the smartest man in Rome but can't even string a coherent sentence together without tripping over his own ego?"

"Not Gaius."

"Then it must be Quintus! The brute who only knows how to solve problems with his fists, who would treat me like a possession rather than a person."

"No, it isn't Quintus either," your father snapped, his patience wearing thin. He took a deep drink from his own goblet, trying to steady himself.

"Who then? Who could possibly be suitable in your eyes?" you spat, your desperation clear.

Your father took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "It's Marcus Acacius."

The name sent a jolt through you, and you took an involuntary step back. Marcus Acacius, a name whispered in both awe and fear throughout Rome. A man known for his prowess in the arena and his cunning outside it. A man with a reputation as cold and unyielding as stone.

"Marcus Acacius?" you echoed, disbelief coloring your tone. "You can't be serious. He's a gladiator, a killer."

"He's more than that," your father insisted. "He's powerful, respected, and capable of protecting you from the dangers you don't even know exist."

You shook your head, your mind reeling. "No, Father. You can't do this to me. I won't marry him."

"You will," he said firmly. "And you will do it for our family, for our future."

You felt the walls closing in, the life you had known slipping away. You slumped back into your chair, staring at the untouched food before you. "What if... what if I've already been with someone else?" you blurted out, hoping to find some way out of this nightmare.

Your father's eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the table. "Have you been taken by another lover?"

You hesitated, the lie heavy on your tongue, but the fear of his wrath kept you silent. "No," you finally admitted, defeated.

"Then it's settled," he said, the finality in his voice chilling. "You will marry Marcus Acacius, and you will do so with dignity."

Tears of frustration and anger welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. "I won't be happy, Father. Not with him, not with this life."

He reached out, a rare gesture of tenderness, and touched your cheek. "Happiness is a luxury we can't afford," he said softly. "But safety, security—that is something I can give you."

You pulled away, the weight of his decision crushing your spirit. "I don't want to be safe. I want to be free."

His hand fell to his side, and his eyes hardened once more. "Freedom is an illusion, my daughter. And you will learn that soon enough."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in the grand hall, the weight of your impending marriage pressing down on you like a vice.

Rage bubbled up inside you, a seething mass of frustration and helplessness. The weight of your father's words pressed down on you like a heavy shroud, suffocating your spirit. With a sudden, violent motion, you swept your arm across the dining table, sending grapes, cheese, and meats crashing to the floor. The wine goblet toppled, spilling dark red liquid like blood across the pristine tablecloth.

Breathing heavily, you glared at the mess you had created, but it did nothing to alleviate the fury burning within you. Without another word, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the grand hall, your footsteps echoing through the marble corridors.

You reached your room, slamming the door behind you. The silence was oppressive, the walls closing in as your mind raced. You had to get out. You couldn't marry Marcus Acacius. You couldn't be trapped in a life you didn't choose, a life that would suffocate the very essence of who you were.

You paced the room, the dim light from the oil lamps casting flickering shadows on the walls. Your eyes darted around, searching for a solution, a way out of this nightmare. Your thoughts turned to your mother, a fleeting glimmer of hope piercing through the darkness.

Your mother had been sent to the countryside years ago, a decision made by your father to keep her safe from the political intrigue and danger that plagued Rome. She lived a quiet, secluded life on the family estate, far from the city's chaos. You hadn't seen her in years, but you knew she would help you if you could reach her.

It had been a month of plotting and planning, each day dragging on as your impending fate loomed ever closer. Today was your wedding day, the day your life would be sealed into a destiny you hadn’t chosen. Final preparations had been completed yesterday, and now you were meant to step into the role of a dutiful daughter and bride. You had woken up earlier than your maids would have roused you, knowing your father would want you to rest more so you appeared extra fresh for Marcus. Instead, your nerves had kept you up all night, the shadows on the walls morphing into ominous shapes as you thought of your future.

The first light of dawn crept through the narrow window, and you knew you couldn’t waste any more time. Your small bag, packed with bread, a few pieces of jewelry to sell, and the spending money your father occasionally gave you, lay hidden under the covers of your bed. The plan was simple: catch the slightest bit of rest before your handmaid came in to wake you, then escape before anyone noticed.

The door creaked open, and Lucia, your handmaid, entered with her usual gentle and serene presence. She glided to the window, pulling back the heavy curtains. Sunlight flooded the room, casting a warm glow that felt almost mocking given your circumstances. You sat up in bed, the light highlighting the bags under your eyes from a sleepless night.

"Good morning, my lady," she said dreamily, her voice like a lullaby. "The sun is shining so beautifully today. It's a perfect day for a wedding." She moved to your side, her hands deftly beginning to arrange your hair with practiced ease. You watched her reflection in the mirror, feeling a pang of guilt for the deception you were about to execute.

"Your dress is so beautiful, my lady. It's like a dream come true. You'll look like a goddess, a vision of perfection," Lucia continued, her words meant to comfort but only adding to your anxiety. The dress she spoke of hung in the corner, a symbol of the life you were being forced into.

You let her continue, her words a soothing balm against your churning thoughts. As she began to apply a light makeup, using berries to tint your lips and cheeks, you couldn't help but feel a sense of finality creeping in. "You'll be the envy of every woman in Rome," she continued, her voice full of admiration. "Marcus Acacius is a powerful man. You'll be safe with him."

Safe. The word echoed in your mind, tinged with bitterness. Safety was a cage, and you longed for freedom. Suddenly, you sat up, startling Lucia. "I need your dress," you blurted out, your voice urgent.

She looked at you, shocked and confused. "My dress, my lady? Why would you want my dress?" she asked, her hands frozen in mid-motion.

You gave her a reassuring smile, reaching under your bed to pull out a dress you had kept for a long time. It was a simple yet elegant gown, one she had always admired. "I have something for you," you said, handing her the dress. "I've seen how much you like it. Today, I want you to wear it and have fun. I just... I want to feel normal before the wedding."

Her eyes widened, and a smile of pure joy spread across her face. "Thank you, my lady. Thank you so much!" She looked at the dress, then back at you. "But what about you? Where will you be?"

You hesitated for a moment, crafting a believable lie. "I'll be eating breakfast with the soldiers. I need a moment to myself before the chaos begins."

She nodded, believing your words, and quickly changed into the dress you had given her. You watched as her usual plain attire was replaced by the elegant gown, the transformation bringing a genuine smile to your face despite the turmoil in your heart. "You look beautiful," you said, forcing a smile. "Now go, enjoy yourself."

Lucia beamed, her happiness palpable. "Thank you, my lady. I'll remember this day forever." She gave a small curtsy and hurried out, eager to enjoy the brief taste of luxury you had gifted her.

As soon as the door closed behind her, you sprang into action. Your heart pounded as you grabbed your small bag from under the covers and moved swiftly towards the door. The corridors of the castle were quiet, the early hour ensuring most were still in their beds. You moved with purpose, your sandals barely making a sound on the stone floors.

Every step you took was filled with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. You had never been so bold, and the risk was immense. If you were caught, the consequences would be severe, but you couldn't live a life that wasn't yours. The thought of being trapped in a loveless marriage with Marcus Acacius spurred you on.

You reached the courtyard, the cool morning air filling your lungs as you dashed towards the farthest end where the horse stables were located. The sound of hooves and the scent of hay greeted you as you approached, your eyes scanning for a suitable mount. Freedom was within reach, and your heart soared with the possibility.

But then, a familiar, stern voice cut through the morning air. "Where do you think you're going?"

You sprinted, your sandals slapping against the cobblestones as the guards closed in. Heart pounding, you reached the barn, your fingers fumbling with the latch. The sound of pursuing footsteps fueled your frantic efforts, and finally, the door swung open. You dashed inside, the scent of hay and horses enveloping you. There was no time to lose.

Without wasting a moment, you chose the newest and fastest horse, a powerful chestnut stallion that had always intimidated you with its raw strength. It was your only chance. Your hands shook as you grabbed its mane, your heart hammering in your chest. The stallion snorted, sensing your urgency. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself.

"Hyah!" you urged, kicking your heels against its sides. The stallion reared, its powerful muscles tensing beneath you, then surged forward, galloping towards the gates. The wind whipped through your hair, the thundering of hooves drowning out the shouts behind you.

The gate loomed ahead, freedom tantalizingly close. You leaned forward, urging the horse faster. As you rode, you navigated the narrow alleys and sharp turns of the castle grounds, the stallion's speed making every twist and turn feel like a life-or-death gamble. The guards were not far behind, their yells growing louder, but you kept pushing, your eyes fixed on the gate.

You had run from the guards before, slipping through their grasp with quick wits and nimble feet, but this was different. The stakes were higher, the danger more palpable. The horse beneath you was your only hope, its powerful strides eating up the distance between you and the gate. But it was also a wild, untamed force, difficult to control.

As you neared the gate, you saw it beginning to close. Panic surged through you. With a desperate cry, you urged the stallion faster. The ground seemed to blur beneath you, the world a whirl of motion and sound. The horse’s breath came in powerful snorts, its muscles straining with effort.

Just as you thought you might make it, the stallion stumbled on a loose cobblestone. You were flung from its back, the world spinning around you as you hit the ground hard. Pain shot through your body, your vision swimming with stars.

When you opened your eyes, the sky above was a brilliant blue, and the scent of earth and grass filled your nostrils. You groaned, trying to sit up, but a gentle hand on your shoulder stopped you.

"Easy there," a deep, soothing voice said. You turned your head and found yourself staring into the concerned eyes of a stranger, his face handsome and strong, framed by dark curls. He knelt beside you, his touch gentle but firm.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his brow furrowed with worry.

You blinked, trying to focus through the haze of pain and confusion. "Who... who are you?"

A small, enigmatic smile played on his lips. "My name is Marcus Acacius. And you must be my bride."

The revelation hit you like a bolt of lightning. This was the man you were meant to marry, the man you were running from. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw not the tyrant you had imagined, but a man filled with genuine concern and curiosity.

"You shouldn't be out here alone," Marcus continued his voice a mix of authority and kindness. "It's dangerous. Let me help you."

The irony of the situation was almost too much to bear. You had been fleeing from your fate, only to run straight into its arms. As Marcus helped you to your feet, his hands strong and reassuring, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps your destiny was more complex than you had believed.

Marcus's strong arms guided you inside, each step a reluctant surrender to the fate you had been trying to escape. The castle's grand corridors, usually bustling with servants and courtiers, were eerily quiet in the early morning light. You were disoriented, the pain from your fall mingling with the turmoil of your thoughts.

As you entered your bedchamber, a familiar and unwelcome face greeted you. Aurelia, one of your father's maids and his well-known mistress, stood there with a smug expression. Her presence was a bitter reminder of your father's indiscretions and the fractured state of your family.

"Well, well," Aurelia purred, her voice dripping with condescension. "What a surprise to see you here, my lady. Running away on your wedding day? How very unbecoming of you."

You shot her a withering glare, your temper flaring. "Spare me your lectures, Aurelia. I'm not in the mood for your sanctimonious drivel."

Aurelia's smile widened, enjoying your discomfort. "You should be grateful for the match your father has arranged. Marcus Acacius is a powerful man. You could do far worse."

You clenched your fists, your anger barely contained. "Is that what you tell yourself to justify spreading your legs for my father? That you're doing it for power and security?"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but she maintained her composure. "Watch your tongue, girl. You may not like me, but I'm here to make sure you fulfill your duty. Now sit down and let me get you ready."

Reluctantly, you sat down, feeling trapped and helpless. As Aurelia worked on your hair and makeup, her touch was firm and unyielding. Her presence was suffocating, her every word a reminder of the life you were being forced into.

"You think you can escape your destiny?" Aurelia continued, her tone dripping with disdain. "You're just a foolish girl. This marriage is your only chance at a future."

You bit back a retort, knowing it would only fuel her smug superiority. Instead, you focused on the mirror in front of you, watching as she applied the final touches to your appearance. The reflection staring back at you was almost unrecognizable—a vision of beauty and elegance, but one that felt like a mask hiding your true self.

Once Aurelia finished, she stepped back, admiring her handiwork. "There," she said, a note of satisfaction in her voice. "You look perfect. Ready to be a proper bride."

You stood, your heart heavy with dread. The grand hall awaited, filled with guests and the weight of expectation. As you made your way towards it, you felt the walls closing in, your fate sealed with every step.

The hall was decorated with lavish flowers and banners, the scent of incense filling the air. Guests whispered and watched as you entered, their eyes following your every move. At the far end, Marcus Acacius stood, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

The ceremony began with the priest’s voice, resonant and solemn, echoing through the hall. The guests fell into an expectant silence, the only sounds being the faint rustling of their silk garments and the distant clinking of goblets. The hall, lavishly adorned with ivy and flowers, seemed to shimmer with an almost otherworldly glow, casting shadows that danced like phantoms along the walls.

You stood at the altar, your heart pounding against your ribs like a trapped bird. The priest’s words, though intended to be a comfort, were like a dark incantation, each syllable wrapping around you tighter, dragging you deeper into the abyss of your fate. Your eyes flickered over to Marcus, standing with his back straight, his gaze unwavering. He looked every bit the powerful man he was rumored to be—tall, imposing, with a presence that commanded the room.

You recalled the whispers you had heard over the past months—the stories of Marcus Acacius. The tales were rife with speculation and fear, his name often mentioned in hushed tones. They spoke of a man whose ambition knew no bounds, whose cruelty was whispered about in every corner of Rome. Some said his eyes held a darkness that could see through to the soul, while others claimed he had a penchant for the macabre, often indulging in extravagant displays of power.

As the priest began the traditional vows, his voice a monotone murmur, you tried to focus, but the words blurred into a cacophony. "Do you, Marcus Acacius, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until death do you part?"

Marcus’s voice was steady, unwavering. "I do," he said, his tone deep and commanding, sending shivers down your spine.

When it was your turn, the words caught in your throat, your voice barely a whisper. "I... I do," you managed, the words tasting bitter on your tongue, the weight of your submission crushing your spirit.

The priest nodded, a satisfied smile curling his lips. "Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

As the priest declared you bound by law and faith, the room erupted into applause, the sound a thunderclap that seemed to echo off the very stones of the castle. Marcus took your hand, his grip firm and unyielding, leading you down the aisle. The guests showered you with petals, their faces a blur of congratulations and forced smiles. You felt like a puppet, each step you took dictated by an invisible string.

The reception hall was a whirlwind of opulence, the air thick with the scent of spiced wine and roasting meats. Long tables groaned under the weight of sumptuous feasts, while musicians played melodies that mingled with the laughter and chatter of the guests. The hall’s high ceilings seemed to stretch into eternity, adorned with golden chandeliers that sparkled like stars.

You clung to the edge of the hall, the laughter and music a distant hum, your mind wandering back to the dark tales you had heard of Marcus. The rumors were impossible to ignore: they spoke of his ruthless ambition, his cold demeanor, and his unsettling fascination with power. Some said his parties were a mask for darker pursuits, where the line between pleasure and pain blurred into obscurity.

As Marcus moved through the crowd, his demeanor was that of a king—gracious yet commanding, his laughter rich and resonant. He was surrounded by his closest allies, men whose eyes gleamed with greed and ambition. They raised their goblets in his honor, their voices melding into a chorus of congratulatory toasts.

You stood near a heavy oak door, the cool stone beneath your fingers a reminder of the stark reality you now faced. The night was growing darker, the moonlight streaming through the tall windows casting an eerie glow on the festivities.

Suddenly, a hand gripped your arm, pulling you away from the door. It was one of the guards, his expression grave. "My lady, you mustn't go near that door. Your father has given strict orders. Any guard who aids your escape will be put to death."

You stared at him, a chill running down your spine. "What do you mean? You can’t be serious. There’s no way out of here. You’re all trapped too."

The guard’s eyes flickered with a mix of pity and resolve. "It’s true, my lady. Your father’s command is ironclad. He has spies everywhere. If you try to leave, he will know. And the consequences for anyone who helps you are severe."

A knot of fear and frustration tightened in your chest. "What do you expect me to do? Just stand here and pretend everything’s fine?"

He hesitated, his grip on your arm softening. "No, my lady. But perhaps you could find a way to make the best of this night. Try to speak to him, learn his intentions. There may be more to him than the rumors say."

Taking a deep breath, you nodded, your mind spinning with the guard’s words. With a determined stride, you made your way through the crowd towards Marcus, who was leaning casually against a pillar, a goblet of wine in his hand. His eyes were slightly glazed from the alcohol, but his gaze sharpened as he saw you approaching.

"Marcus," you began, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. "I wanted to thank you for your help earlier today. I... I appreciate it."

He raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You mean when you tried to flee?" His tone was teasing, but there was an edge to it. "You have spirit, I'll give you that."

You forced a smile, trying to gauge his true nature. "I only wished for a moment of freedom. But I suppose that is behind us now."

Marcus took a sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving yours. "Freedom is a fleeting thing, my dear. But power... power is eternal. And together, we shall wield it."

Your stomach churned at his words, the rumors about him echoing in your mind. "Is that all you care about? Power?" you asked, unable to keep the bitterness from your voice.

His smile faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "You misunderstand me. Power is not an end, but a means. It ensures safety, prosperity, and control over one's destiny. Is that so terrible?"

You struggled to see past the image you had built of him. "I’ve heard things about you, Marcus. Dark things."

He chuckled softly, a sound that sent chills down your spine. "People fear what they do not understand. Let them talk. What matters is that I have the means to protect those I care about."

His words, though seemingly sincere, did little to quell your doubts. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, your father’s voice boomed across the hall.

"Honored guests!" he called out, drawing everyone’s attention. "The hour grows late, and it is time for my daughter and her new husband to retire to their bedchamber."

A murmur of approval and knowing smiles rippled through the crowd. Your heart raced, a mixture of dread and resignation filling you. Marcus extended his hand to you, his grip firm and possessive as he led you through the throng of guests towards the grand staircase.

As you ascended the stairs, the weight of your future bore down on you. You glanced back once, seeing the guests' faces fade into the distance, their laughter and conversations becoming a dull roar. When you reached the door of the bedchamber, Marcus paused, turning to face you.

"This is just the beginning," he said, his voice low and intense. "We have much to learn about each other."

You swallowed hard, forcing a nod. "Yes, we do."

He opened the door, and you stepped inside, the room lit by the soft glow of candlelight. The bed, draped in rich fabrics, seemed to loom ominously in the center. Marcus closed the door behind you, the click of the latch sounding like a final seal on your fate.

As he moved closer, you felt a mix of fear and curiosity. This was the man you were now bound to, and despite the darkness that surrounded him, there was a part of you that longed to understand him, to find the truth beneath the rumors.

"Let's start anew," he said, his hand gently brushing your cheek. "Whatever you have heard, whatever you fear, put it aside. We are bound by more than words and vows. Let’s see where this path takes us."

You recoiled from his touch, your anger bubbling to the surface. "I'd rather fuck a pig than you," you spat, your voice dripping with venom. The shock on his face quickly morphed into a cold, calculating expression.

"You need to learn your place," Marcus hissed, his grip tightening on your arm. "You should consider yourself lucky to have me, especially with your reputation."

You glared at him, your temper flaring. "Lucky? Is that what you think this is? A blessing? I know what people say about you, Marcus. They call you ruthless, a monster. I'd rather die than be your plaything."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "You speak so boldly for someone in such a precarious position. But let me make something clear: you are mine now. And I will do whatever it takes to keep you in line."

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of fear and defiance. "You can't control me. I'll never submit to you."

A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. "Is that so? Tell me, my bride, are you truly a virgin, or have your wild antics already sullied you?"

The question caught you off guard, your cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and anger. "How dare you—"

"Answer me," he demanded, his eyes boring into yours. "Are you a virgin?"

You clenched your fists, refusing to be cowed. "Yes, I am," you snapped, your voice trembling with rage. "Not that it's any of your business."

He seemed taken aback for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he studied your face. "So, you are pure, despite everything. Interesting."

"You think you can just claim me like some prize?" you retorted, your voice rising. "I won't be your obedient little wife. I won't be another notch on your belt."

Marcus's expression hardened, his grip on your arm like iron. "You will be my wife, and you will learn to respect me. You don't know the first thing about power or survival. But you will."

"You don't scare me," you lied, your voice faltering slightly.

"Don't I?" he whispered, his lips dangerously close to yours. "You should be scared. But perhaps you're just too stubborn to realize it."

"Stubborn?" you scoffed. "Is that what you call it when someone refuses to bow to a tyrant?"

His eyes flashed with anger, and for a moment, you thought he might strike you. But instead, he did something even more unexpected. He leaned in and kissed you, his lips crashing against yours with a fierce, passionate intensity.

You froze, your mind racing as his kiss deepened. There was a raw, undeniable heat between you, a clash of wills and desires. Your initial shock gave way to a whirlwind of emotions—anger, fear, curiosity, and something else you couldn't quite name.

As his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, you found yourself responding, your body betraying your mind. The kiss was a battle, each of you struggling for dominance, neither willing to yield.

When he finally pulled away, you were breathless, your heart racing. His eyes were dark and intense, a storm of emotions swirling within them. You stared back at him, defiance and confusion mingling in your gaze, unsure of what to say or do next.

"I'm sorry," Marcus said, his voice unexpectedly soft. "I shouldn't have forced myself on you like that."

His words, so out of character, only fueled your anger further. "Sorry?" you scoffed, pushing him back slightly. "You think a simple apology will make up for everything? For the way you've treated me, for the way you think you can just claim me?"

His jaw clenched, but he didn't back down. "I know I can't make up for it. But perhaps... perhaps we can find a way to understand each other."

You were silent for a moment, then your eyes narrowed. "Understand each other?" you echoed, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Is that what this is about? Understanding?"

A dark, reckless impulse surged within you. You grabbed him by the front of his tunic, pulling him closer. "You think you can control me?" you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. "You think you can just take what you want?"

Before he could respond, you pressed your lips to his again, this time with even more intensity. The kiss was fierce, a clash of wills and desires. You could feel the tension between you, the thin line between hate and something far more dangerous.

Marcus responded in kind, his hands gripping your waist with bruising force. The room seemed to spin as you lost yourself in the raw heat of the moment, your anger and frustration boiling over into something wild and unrestrained.

You broke the kiss, your breathing ragged. "You want me?" you demanded, your voice a low, challenging whisper. "Then take me."

His eyes blazed with desire and a hint of confusion. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice rough.

"Shut up," you snapped, pulling him closer. "No more talking. Just... take me."

With a growl, Marcus responded, his hands tearing at your clothes with a desperate urgency. You mirrored his actions, your fingers fumbling with the fastenings of his tunic. The fabric fell away, and you pressed your bodies together, the heat of his skin igniting a fire within you.

"You're infuriating," he muttered, his lips trailing down your neck.

"And you," you retorted, your hands exploring the hard planes of his chest, "are a tyrant."

He paused for a moment, his breath hot against your skin. "Then why are you doing this?"

"Because," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and desire, "I hate you. And I need to feel something other than this... this helplessness."

He captured your lips again, his kiss searing and demanding. "I hate you too," he whispered against your mouth, his hands roaming your body. "But I can't resist you."

The world outside ceased to exist as you gave in to the storm between you. Clothes fell away, and you were left exposed, vulnerable yet defiant. You pushed him onto the bed, straddling him, your eyes locked in a battle of wills.

"You think you can control me?" you challenged, your voice breathless.

"I don't need to control you," Marcus replied, his hands gripping your hips. "I just need you."

Marcus brought his thumb to circle your clit, his rough touch sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You moaned slightly, your head falling back in bliss. His voice teased you, dripping with arrogance. "What, haven’t you touched yourself before?"

You gasped, grinding down against the hard length of his cock straddled between your legs. His smirk faltered at your audacity. "Of course I have," you retorted, your voice edged with defiance, a spark of rebellion lighting your eyes.

Marcus gripped your hips, lifting you off him with ease before moving to sit back against the headboard, his arms casually behind his head in a display of smug dominance. "You want the virgin to do all the work?" you taunted, your eyes narrowing in displeasure as you crawled closer.

His smirk returned, darker this time. "The virgin, huh? That's what I get to call you now?" He paused, watching you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. "You're the one who's on me like a dog in heat."

You looked at him with a dark expression, sitting back on your thighs, your chest heaving with frustration and desire. With one hand, you began to caress his upper thigh, mimicking the movements you'd seen from the sex workers in your father's employ. Though inexperienced, you weren't ignorant; you'd read secret novels and asked questions of your father's mistresses. But nothing had prepared you for the raw reality of this moment.

"You know what to do?" he questioned a challenge in his eyes, his voice a low growl.

You didn't answer with words. Instead, you leaned forward, your tongue darting out to lick from the base of his cock to the tip, tasting the salty pre-cum on your tongue. The taste was oddly addictive. You wrapped your hand around his thick length, marveling at how it almost didn't fit in your grip. Steadying him, you licked the tip, eliciting a deep groan from him.

"Don't be shy," he patted your head condescendingly, his fingers tangling in your hair. Despite your nerves, you collected spit in your mouth and let it fall onto the tip of his cock, watching as he rubbed it around with a satisfied smirk.

You took the tip into your mouth, savoring the taste of his pre-cum, and groaned at the flavor. He moaned deeply as you sucked gently, guiding your head with his hand. You gagged slightly as you tried to take more of him in, your hand still gripping the base, your eyes watering with the effort.

"Spit on it," he commanded. You did as he asked, letting more saliva dribble onto his length. He patted your head again, a gesture both condescending and encouraging, and you resumed sucking, taking him deeper into your mouth. You gagged again, but he didn't let go, enjoying the sight of you struggling to accommodate his size.

"Come on," he urged, pulling you up to straddle his hips once more. You thought he was finally ready to take your virginity, the moment you'd both been building towards, but he surprised you. Gripping your hips with firm hands, he moved you so his face was between your thighs.

"What are you—" you began, but he cut you off, his lips attacking your clit with a fervor that stole your breath. He completed the arc with his tongue, taking your bud between his lips and sucking hard. You almost screamed, the pleasure overwhelming you. "Oh God," you moaned, your hands flying to his hair to steady yourself.

He paused for a moment, his dark eyes meeting yours with a predatory glint. "Marcus, baby… Marcus," you whimpered, your voice trembling with need and desperation.

He resumed his assault, his tongue and lips working in tandem to drive you wild. You began to grind against his mouth, the sensation too much to bear, yet not nearly enough. The tension built rapidly, your orgasm approaching with a force that took you by surprise.

"Marcus!" you cried out, your fingers gripping his hair tightly as your body tensed and then shattered into a million pieces. He held your hips firmly to his face, lapping up every drop of your release as you rode out your orgasm on his tongue.

You fell back onto the bed, spent and trembling, and he crawled over you, his face slick with your essence. "Well, well," he said, a wicked grin spreading across his features as he rubbed his cock against your still-sensitive pussy. "Are you all fucked out already?"

You managed a weak glare, but it melted into a moan as he pushed into you. The stretch was intense, making you claw at his shoulders for support. He kissed your neck, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of fire as he pulled out slowly before thrusting back in deeply. You moaned at the sensation, your body arching to meet his every movement.

"You hear that?" His gruff voice asked, pulling you back to the present as his cock dragged from your cunt, pushing back in slowly. The squelch of him pushing deep inside you was loud, the sound of your arousal undeniable. You threw your head back, moaning his name.

"Yeah, you do," he muttered, his breath hot against your neck. His teeth grazed your delicate skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Hear how wet you are?"

You opened your eyes slowly, your vision filled with the sight of him. His beautiful, sweat-covered face was close to yours, every scar and wrinkle telling a story, the grey in his beard adding to his rugged appeal. His eyes burned with an intensity that made your heart race.

A moan escaped your lips as his thrusts grew more desperate, more hungry. He caught your wrists together in one of his big hands, pressing them down into the mattress with a grip that left no room for escape. Your thighs were splayed wide, almost uncomfortably so, pressed down by the width of his hips. His cock was splitting you open, and you were so impossibly wet that you could hear it every time he pushed back into you, a lewd squelching sound that only seemed to spur him on.

He grinned wildly, his teeth flashing in the dim light. "You like that, don’t you?" he taunted, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Only I can make you this wet, make you submit so completely."

You could only moan in response, your body arching beneath him, every nerve ending on fire. "Marcus," you whimpered, the intense pleasure making you delirious. Your mind was a haze of sensation, every thrust sending you spiraling further into a world where only he existed.

His grin softened slightly, a hint of something almost tender in his eyes as he looked down at you. "That's right," he murmured, his voice a low growl. His thrusts were deep and relentless, each one driving home his dominance. "You're mine now."

You wanted to hate him, to deny the truth of his words, but with your body quivering beneath his, you knew he was right. You were his. Every thrust, every touch, every whispered word claimed you, bound you to him in ways you had never imagined.

His pace quickened, his hips snapping against yours with a ferocity that left you breathless. The room was filled with the sounds of your combined moans, the slap of skin against skin, and the wet, obscene noises of your coupling. His free hand roamed over your body, caressing and squeezing, leaving trails of fire in its wake.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear. "I can't get enough of you."

Your response was a garbled moan, your head thrown back in ecstasy. His words, his touch, everything about him overwhelmed you. You felt yourself teetering on the edge, the coil of pleasure tightening in your belly, ready to snap.

He seemed to sense your impending release, his movements becoming even more deliberate, his thrusts hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over again. "Come for me," he demanded, his voice rough with his own need. "Let go. I want to feel you."

The command sent you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you with the force of a tidal wave, your body convulsing beneath him. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the room, a testament to your surrender.

His weight pressed you into the mattress, his skin hot and slick against yours. You felt every throb of his heartbeat, every shudder of his breath. It was an intimacy you had never experienced before, raw and all-consuming.

As the waves of your shared climax ebbed, you lay there, wrapped in the warmth of his body. For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, tangled together in the aftermath of passion.

As he lifted his head, his eyes met yours, filled with a complex mix of emotions. The intensity of his gaze made your heart flutter, but the softness in his expression was unexpected, almost tender.

"Well," he murmured, his voice low and taunting, "I guess the rumors were wrong. You're not a virgin after all." He paused, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Well, not anymore."

You felt a flush of anger rise within you. "And what if I wasn't? What difference would it make to you?"

He smirked, the familiar arrogance returning. "Just proves you're not as innocent as you pretend to be."

You pushed against his chest, forcing him to roll onto his side. "You're insufferable," you snapped, your breath still coming in short gasps. "You think you know everything, but you don't."

He chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Maybe not everything. But I know enough."

You glared at him, the heat between you not entirely dissipated. "You don't know anything about me."

His hand moved to your cheek, thumb brushing over your flushed skin. "I know you're stronger than you think. And I know you feel something for me, whether you want to admit it or not."

You scoffed, turning your head away. "You're delusional."

"Am I?" He leaned in, his lips ghosting over your ear. "Or are you just afraid to admit it?"

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, a shiver running down your spine. "Get over yourself," you muttered, trying to sound indifferent.

He laughed, a low, rumbling sound that made your insides twist. "I could say the same to you."

You pushed at him again, trying to create distance, but he caught your wrists, holding them against the mattress. "Let go," you demanded, struggling against his grip.

"Not until you admit it," he said, his voice soft but firm.

"Admit what?" you hissed, your anger flaring again.

"That you feel something for me," he said, his eyes boring into yours.

You glared at him, refusing to give in. "You're impossible."

He sighed, releasing your wrists and rolling onto his back. "Maybe I am. But so are you."

You lay there in silence for a moment, the tension between you thick and palpable. Despite everything, you couldn't deny the magnetic pull you felt towards him, the strange mix of hatred and desire that left you breathless and confused.

Finally, exhaustion began to creep in, your body heavy with the aftermath of your intense encounter. "This doesn't change anything," you said, your voice softer now, almost resigned.

"Maybe not," he agreed, his tone equally soft. "But it's a start."

You turned your head to look at him, finding his eyes already on you. "What do you want from me, Marcus?" you asked, the question hanging heavily in the air.

He reached out, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice a whisper. "But I want to find out."

You closed your eyes, a sigh escaping your lips. "I'm too tired to argue with you."

He chuckled softly, the sound surprisingly comforting. "Then don't. Just sleep."

You turned onto your side, your back to him, trying to create some semblance of space. The room was silent, the only sound the soft rustle of sheets and the faint crackle of the dying fire in the hearth. You closed your eyes, willing sleep to come, but your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Despite your best efforts to maintain distance, you couldn't ignore the warmth radiating from Marcus's body, the solid presence of him beside you. There was a strange sense of comfort in his nearness, an unexpected feeling of safety that contrasted sharply with the chaos of your emotions.

As you lay there, the exhaustion from the night's events slowly began to overtake you. Your muscles relaxed, and your breathing grew steady and slow. You felt the mattress shift slightly as Marcus moved closer, his arm draping over your waist in a possessive yet gentle gesture.

For a moment, you considered shrugging him off, but the weariness was too much. Instead, you let yourself sink into the feeling of his arm around you, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against your back. It was oddly soothing, a stark reminder that despite the tumultuous start to your union, there was a potential for something more, something deeper.

"Goodnight," Marcus murmured softly, his breath warm against your ear.

You hesitated before responding, the word barely a whisper. "Goodnight."

PART 2

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