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moonlight-prose · 20 days

Text

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 04. FELLED BY YOU

a/n: i've served three chapters of angst and teasing and almosts that never came to fruition. but today is the day! today logan howlett gets fucked. i mean...does the fucking. you know what i mean. there's gonna be some hints of pain, but really he's starting to focus more on getting it right this time around. so be prepared for the filth to come.

summary: the importance of you slammed into him during your two weeks spent apart. yet when he's forced to confront the truth, he finds himself stuck between having you or hurting you.

word count: 9.7k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, wade continues to be the worlds worst wingman, yearning, angst, fluff, flirting heavily, nasty sex, p in v sex, logan gets flashed in a good way, oral (f receiving), reverence and romance, logan is an idiot until he's not, exhibitionsim (kinda if you squint really hard), pain play cause he's a whore, he lifts you cause he's strong like that.

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Time didn't exist in a linear line for him. Never a single point that drew his life from one spot to another. His constant loss of memories and different universes left him numb to the concept as a whole. He found it better to ignore the thought—move past the tragedies that came next quicker than what already happened.

What was time to an immortal man who'd lived through too much already?

What did he have left to lose?

He never found himself counting the minutes, hours, and days before you. To him, they were a jumble of things that only shifted to become one solid fact. A year he'd never get back. Moments he might one day lose. Faces he would one day come to outlive—to see grow old and pass. People he'd never meet again.

He didn't bother with it.

Until he spent a night wrapped around you and fell asleep with no nightmares. He woke up long before you ever would—dawn barely cracking across the night's darkened armor. The clock on your nightstand read five a.m., but his body shouted something different. He wasn't fatigued like every other morning coupled with endless nights of no sleep, dreading the next time he had no choice but to close his eyes.

Logan almost wished he crawled back into the bed in order to watch you be roused from sleep with the beep of your alarm. He should have. At least then he'd be counted as a smart man for not sneaking out and heading home. Even thinking of what came to your mind when you woke up sent pain down his chest.

"Punch buggy!" A gloved fist slammed into his shoulder with enough weight behind it to cause the car to jerk left.

"Fuck!" he growled, slamming his foot on the brake and whipping around to embed his claws in Wade's leg. "Sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up!"

"Rules of the highway Log–"

Red splattered against his makeshift yellow suit as he dug his other set of claws into Wade's chest with a roar. In his peripheral vision he caught sight of a small red car whizzing by. The driver laying on the horn with an anger Logan felt at the base of his stomach. Wade pointed to it with a smile in a meager attempt to lighten the mood.

He wouldn't say he was on edge. That would be a pathetic attempt at lying.

He passed edge one week and six days ago. Twenty-four hours after leaving your apartment Logan met the edge of his anger, and flew right off without bothering to keep himself in check. Two weeks without your presence. The sound of your voice, the warmth of your scent. Two weeks of a fucking mission Wade convinced him to go on; with the claim that they'd be back before Friday.

Which wound up extending to yet another five days of being stuck in the back fucking woods of Virginia—stuffed into an already small truck. The rhythmic clunk of the shovels in the bed slamming against the side already had him gritting his teeth. An hour of driving with Wade's game of spotting cars caused him to almost crack his molars.

Logan wasn't a patient man.

He swung first and asked questions later. That was his way of living. Two weeks of counting the seconds as they passed by like molasses only seemed to reaffirm that fact. He knew irony lingered in the truth; an immortal man who held less than an ounce of patience in his body.

There had to be a joke in there somewhere that Wade would no doubt yank out before the end of this trip.

Retracting his claws, he settled back in his seat to glare at the deserted long road ahead of them that seemed to lead nowhere. The car became a prison he couldn't escape an hour ago. And the appeal of trying to kill the man beside him only grew the longer he sat there. Logan already felt like a piece of shit for leaving with no explanation. He didn't need Wade's blood to make it worse.

With a huff he slammed open the car door and got out. The air was hot, stale, and left him choking in the leather suit that already clung to his skin. He tugged at the collar, sucking in air to get his heart to stop racing.

It proved to be difficult when your face distraught with tears began to morph, take shape into the you he couldn't save.

"Something tells me this has nothing to do with not getting to visit pound town before we left." When he was met with a wall of silence, Wade's head fell back with a groan. "Please hold while we deal with another existential crisis guys. He'll get there eventually."

Logan's fingers curled into fists. Wade—relentless as he was—refused to be pushed away this time. He leaned against the car, twirling his baby knife as Logan tried to hold back every ounce of fucking anger that needed an outlet. None of it was pointed at the Merc with a Mouth. Not even the nonsensical comments could penetrate Logan's otherwise silent exterior.

No, Logan knew exactly where the anger was directed. He knew that all of this rage stemmed from his own self loathing. For doing to you what he knew would hurt the most. For doing...exactly what the other you did.

Leaving wouldn't give him the opportunity to run from his pain. Fuck he figured that out a long time ago, but that never stopped him from trying.

He was an old dog with one singular trick. Hurting the ones he loved.

"Just call sweet angel up, say that you're with your old pal Wade, and explain in extreme detail how you'd love to bend her over every surface in that apartment you stare longingly at like you're waiting for her to return from war."

Telling him to shut the fuck up would only incur more bullshit to leave his mouth. Logan chose the easier route and stared into space; focused on the way his heart began to slow the more he thought about that night. How you slept against him without fear. Your hands pressed to his chest, face tucked into his shoulder. Somehow in the span of a few hours you were able to make him feel normal again.

"How much longer do I have to deal with your fuckin' bullshit?"

"One day give or take who drives."

"You're not driving."

Wade shrugged. "Your mistake." With a swift turn, he leapt into the bed of the truck and grabbed the two shovels. "Now give me a smile with those Tony award winning teeth of yours cause we've got work to do."

The endless nothingness of fields and flat ground would eventually drive him insane. One more day didn't sound awful if he knew that you were waiting for him at the end of all this. But that remained the problem he couldn't solve—the nightmare that followed him in his waking world. What if you weren't there? What if that was his final chance and you made the choice for him?

He sighed, squinting his eyes against the sun. "Alright. Give me the damn shovel."

The constant tapping of your boss's pen was going to drive you insane. Although if someone were to ask you, this wasn't the first time in the past two weeks that you were holding onto your temper by the skin of your teeth. In fact, you couldn't recall a time where your body and mind had been this on edge. As if you were a rubber band pulled tight, ready to snap at a moment's notice.

"Three days off?" Her voice remained monotone—grating against your already racing mind.

"Yes," you replied.

The request would go through without issue; you'd been here before, asking the same routine questions. Only this time you felt the unease from that morning begin to work its way through your body. Doubt lay heavy on your heart the more you ran each minute in your mind. Combing over where you might have gone wrong—what would have made him want to leave.

Waking up without Logan wasn't what set you on a path to self-destruction. At first, you were logical enough to assume that he was a busy man; being a superhero and all. He must have a good reason as to why he slipped out of your bed before the sun could fully rise, leaving behind nothing but flowers that now sat dead in a vase, and a brand new door.

Two weeks without a single word—without an explanation or a reason—began to grate on your mind. Pulling at each worry with an intensity that left you winded. Until you were forced to confront the idea that this whole thing...what you and Logan intended to start...wasn't what he had in mind to begin with.

"I'll grant you the days." The slow build of relief flooded your nerves that were already shot to shit. "Just next time you decide to sneak a guest in, please make sure he signs for a visitor's pass."

A familiar wave of discomfort spilled in your chest. Getting caught wasn't on your schedule of things to happen when it came to your job. Then again, having Logan in your life wasn't a part of your plan either. Yet somehow that happened as naturally as taking a deep breath of fresh air.

He didn't step into your life with a stoic aura of peace.

Logan crashed into it head first without a choice.

You remained a gravitational pull, an orbit he couldn't escape from, and without warning he'd been pulled to you. Where he'd exist until it was time for him to be set free.

What remained of your fear—the one thing that kept you from falling wholeheartedly—was that one day Logan might come to the decision all on his own. Without bothering to tell you, or let you in on the secret. That after all that happened...he might want to be set free. If he didn't already.

The walk back to your apartment dragged longer than it should. Your steps were slower, mind entirely distracted from the task at hand, and body aching from lack of sleep. Two weeks without Logan left you questioning why you bothered to pursue him at all. Why had you given him so much freedom to roam in and out of your life? Especially when you'd never done that with any other person before.

You knew the answer.

Logan offered you a chance to live in a way you never thought of before. Fear of the unknown kept you complacent; stuck in your ways. In such a short time he managed to slowly peel away what still remained. The anxiety that lingered in your heart at the thought of being loved—of falling in love.

He shattered your walls without even trying.

Accepting that is what left you struggling to breathe after drowning in what he gave. You were supposed to be the one to lead him out of the dark waters, back to a shore of safety, yet somehow he pulled you right in with him.

That is what kept you right on the edge of whatever this could possibly become.

You wanted to ask him why he left. Dig into his thoughts and pull free your answers. He might give you a fight—knowing what Wade told you about him having a tough exterior—but this wasn't nothing to you. All you wanted was to know that he held the same belief. That this meant something.

Calling his phone never worked—going directly to a voicemail box he never set up. Texting him wasn't an option, and you couldn't exactly write him a handwritten letter to send off without an address of where to go. Which left you here. Stuck in the radio silence and waiting for a response to crack through all the static.

Digging for your keys at the bottom of your work bag nearly caused you to miss the woman standing by your door. Her hair was tied into a messy updo, showcasing the familiar white streaks you'd seen before. Something akin to joy flushed through your body as Vanessa pushed away from the wall—two coffees held in her hands and a paper bag that smelled eerily like bagels tucked into her arm.

"I wonder when I'd see you again," you said, catching her smile as you slid the key into your new lock with ease.

"Blame Wade. He's been keeping me hostage for weeks."

You snorted, tossing your bag and coat on the table. The flowers—now dried and falling to pieces—still remained the centerpiece of your apartment. Petals were scattered along the wood, some now on the floor. But you couldn't find it in yourself to throw them out. You still held out hope that they might bring him back to you, even if he didn't want to return.

"I don't need to know the gory details," you sighed, accepting the tepid coffee and cold bagel. "How long did you wait?"

"Thirty minutes." She fell to your couch with a groan, kicking off her heeled boots. "I figured you were well into the first stage of wallowing and might need someone to drag you out of it."

"I'm not–"

Her eyes fell to the bouquet, lips pursed as if fighting a smile. "And those are from who again?"

"Just because I kept them doesn't mean I'm wallowing." You collapsed beside her, exhaustion withering your body quicker than the sun did with those flowers. "I just haven't cleaned yet."

"Right."

Vanessa had been your friend since Wade moved in across the street and accidentally almost killed you in the middle of the street. She wound up apologizing for him with two bottles of wine and hours of conversation. Even in the midst of their breakup, she still solidified herself in your life with nights of movies and days out in the city. You never thought you'd get a friend out of living here, but somehow life without Ness in it felt bleak.

Which gave her the ability to read you like an open book. She'd seen what you looked like after a breakup—she’d endured countless talking stages with you—and was able to pick out the signs of what your pain looked like.

"He's coming back, you know."

Your heart fluttered at the mere mention of his existence; you silently cursed yourself for it. "Did Wade tell you that?"

She nodded, taking a sip of the shitty cold coffee with a grimace. "I love the man, but he has the worst timing."

"Timing?" You sat up, alert for the first time since waking up alone. "What are you talking about?"

"I figured you didn't know," she sighed. "Logan didn't leave because he wanted to. Trust me I'm pretty sure if given the choice he'd lock both of you in here until we had to call the police." She didn't give you room to interject—even as you started to speak. "He's an X-Man babe. And well Wade—dipshit that he is—decided to drag him on a mission at the worst fucking second."

The words hung in the air for longer than either of you wanted, but your mind was racing a mile a minute. Mission. A fucking mission. How could you have been so quick to jump to conclusions?

You knew who Logan was the second you met. Understood the importance he held. Yet you never pieced together that two weeks of no contact might have meant something entirely different than a breakup.

"He's..."

"On a mission," she replied—lazily biting into her bagel.

"With Wade?"

She spoke around a mouthful of cream cheese. "If he could die, he'd be a goner."

Already the picture was starting to form. Logan stuck for two weeks with a shitty phone that didn't work, constantly bugged by a man who had a mouth that shit talked faster than he could think. He left to try and be the man he wanted people to see him as. The man that still held a legacy in this universe.

You simply forgot to contend with the fact that you weren't just opening your life up to James Howlett...you were making space for the Wolverine too.

"A year's worth of panic just crossed your face. Wanna talk about it?"

What was there left to say? That you'd been an idiot for believing Logan would leave you high and dry? For letting your doubts get the better of you yet again? Or should you explain that for two weeks you felt an emptiness that scared the absolute shit out of you? As if he ripped a hole in your chest with his claws and had no intention of patching it back up.

"Wade told you this himself?"

She stood, heading straight for the vintage cabinet in your living room that held whatever liquor you kept in stock. "More or less. It was hard to hear him over all the screaming in the background."

Somehow her words didn't phase you—even as she continued to speak about the possibility of what they were up to. You caught the words shovel and stole a truck but nothing beyond that. You took the glass of wine without question—mind focused entirely on the man who managed to turn your word on its head in such a short time.

"When do they get back?"

Her lips curved into a smile that told you one thing: I got you right where I want you.

It took no time at all for you to be thinking of the next time you saw him and hiding it from her felt like trying to build a wall with space on the sides. Enough room for her to sneak into your mind and tug out the truth.

"Tomorrow." She took a sip, settled back down beside you, and reached for the remote. "Wade's throwing a party. Your attendance is mandatory."

A second barely passed before your response was spilling free. Excitement now replacing the doubt that willed itself to stay.

"I'll be there."

"Who had money on the great honey badger expedition?" Wade called out to the rather full living room.

You sat curled on the couch beside Vanessa—a red solo cup filled with shitty beer perched on your knee, condensation spilling across your hand. Dopinder was halfway into a story about his first solo job, Colossus was crammed into a small seat, and Logan sat at the table—his eyes a searing burn against the side of your face.

"Shit," Vaness sighed, digging into her front pocket—a twenty slapped into Wade's hand with a kiss.

You gasped. "Traitor."

"I really thought we were gonna win."

"Who did you bet against?" Your eyes caught sight of the cash getting slipped in Althea's hand—her smile cocky enough to give Wade a run for his money. "Of course."

"If it makes you feel better, Wade is done trying to play matchmaker between you two."

You wondered if you said the word bullshit loud enough it would penetrate through Wade's wall of not listening. The temptation was there. Though you decided to remain silent...for Logan's sake.

Since they returned, he barely said more than a few words to you. Them being hello and I tried to call. You both knew the second part was purely fictional, but figured it was easier to remain silent about it. Arguing wasn't something you were keen on doing—given that he had more than enough time to offer an explanation.

Yet he chose to put distance between the two of you. Sitting in sullen silence, a glass of whiskey nursed slowly and eyes latched onto the way you laughed.

He wanted to speak to you. Tell you how often he thought of you—how many times he made a note of something interesting or funny to regale you with once he returned. But the knowledge that you might very well hate him for leaving silently and without a promise of return, put everything to the back of his mind.

Reconciling with you was the first thing he planned to do.

Yet like he did in his own universe, he chose to keep you at arms length. Away from the insanity of his volatile emotions and dangerous demeanor. You were too good; too breakable.

"Fox and friends!" Wade's voice dragged his attention away from you. Even mere feet away Logan felt you right down to his fucking bones. "I have a special surprise for you heathens. Yeah that's right I'm looking at you Sugar Bear."

A hand gripped Logan's shirt, dragging him up from the chair as he struggled not to slam his fist into Wade's throat. "We're gonna play a little game I like to call Forty Five Minutes In The Closet. I'll pick two people and they'll have to hide the two hundred and seventh bone in the human body."

"It's called seven minutes in heaven. Dumbass," Al muttered.

"No. No, that's something else."

Logan felt the hair rise on the back of his neck at the sight of your smile. How you lit up at Wade's humor. You wore a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, yet he couldn't place a time where you looked more beautiful. If it weren't for the grip Wade had on his shoulder, he'd be asking you to meet him in the hallway—an apology already set on the tip of his tongue.

"Anyways!" Wade shook him violently—knowing that if Logan met his irritation with violence he'd have another problem to worry about. "I nominate this broad shouldered—thick muscled—thunder cunt from down under cunt to be our first contestant."

His eyes flicked to the side, lips curving into a smirk that could only be categorized as diabolical. "Drink some water girls cause things are about to get good."

Vanessa smiled, yanking your arm into the air without warning. "I nominate her to go with him."

"That's right you do baby!" Wade shouted.

"No," Logan growled, yanking his arm away from Wade.

Only to catch how your face fell. You tried to mask it with a laugh, but he could see the damage was done. All the doubts that you fought against began to slowly rise to the surface; each moment spent with him now a time you wanted to get back. But like a trooper, you stood with a glare in Vanessa's direction, and walked towards the hall closet barely big enough for two coats and a broom.

"Go go," Wade shoved him (violently) in your direction, and held the door for Logan to squeeze in beside you. "Now some ground rules. The walls are paper thin so if you end up dancing the Devil's Tango, we'll be making popcorn to go along with the show. Oh and any procreations that come out of this automatically get named Wade."

"You're disgusting," Logan snarled.

"Wade I don't think–"

You heard a loud have fun from everyone outside before the door slammed shut. Darkness swallowed the both of you whole. Yet you felt how close he stood even with your eyes still trained on the door. Heat radiated off his body in waves, soaking into yours with ease. His breath came in quick but released slowly as if he was trying his best to keep his temper steady.

At this point blaming him for losing it wasn't an option. Not when you never expected the night to wind up like this.

You sucked in a deep breath, hands shaking when your heart began to race. You tried to appease every improper thought that entered your mind, but failed spectacularly as they kept on coming. Another sharp inhale echoed mere inches away—his body tensing as your scent deepened. Calling to him like a siren song he needed to answer.

"Stop that," he ground out, fingers curling into fists to keep himself apart from you.

Your eyes met his searing gaze even in the pitch black. "I'm not doing anything."

"You're not. But your body is." He huffed, feeling his willpower begin to splinter when your heart jumped. "How long do we have to...ya know..."

It took you a minute to realize that Logan was suddenly bashful. The urge to reach for a flashlight to see the red that most likely tinted the top of his ears reared its head. You would have done it if it weren't for the way his entire body flinched. His back now pushed against the wall furthest from you.

"Seven minutes," you murmured. "Are you okay?"

"'M fine."

You'd never seen him this on edge before. So close to snapping.

Perhaps it was the way he reacted whilst in your vicinity, or the fact that this was the most he'd said to you in twenty four hours. But the doubt you harbored for two weeks slowly began to shift into a wave of anger. One that demanded at least one final answer as to what you were doing here. What this meant to him.

You wouldn't continue pining after a man who couldn't give it to you straight; not after you gave him so much.

"At least now I can ask you what's going on."

He stiffened, his head snapping up to see your face begin to shift—your tone sharper than before. "What?"

"You heard me Howlett." His lips twitched at the sound of his last name. You fought the urge to land a punch to his jaw he'd barely. "Two weeks of no contact. You gave me nothing. And I was fine with it because I knew you were with Wade, but this? Avoiding me so you don't have to give me a reason as to why?"

"Honey–"

Your eyes narrowed, shutting him up quicker than he expected. "I'm not done talking." Another deep breath set off the last of your rant. "If you don't want to continue whatever this is then that's fine. I've moved on from guys like you before. I can do it again. But now you don't even want to be near me. I don't know what I did to make you–"

The step he took came unexpectedly. As did the next and the next until you were pinned to the wall behind you—his hands on either side of your head. Whatever fight you had left in your system fizzled out when his head dipped and lips slid down the side of your neck. Kissing gently at the vein he longed to sink his teeth into.

"Logan," you gasped, tilting your entire body his way. The reaction was involuntary. As if he possessed you in ways you never expected.

The smile he pressed to your cheek told you he liked it.

"That's what you think huh bub? That I don't wanna be near you?"

"Y-Yes..."

He chuckled. "I just spent two fuckin' weeks in a car with that walking mouth. You think I went of my own free will?" The breath that ghosted along your cheek caused your whole body to shiver. "'M stayin' away honey cause if I get too close I'm gonna do things to you that you aren't ready for."

A fire began to unfurl in the base of your stomach, rapidly coursing through your body without a single warning. He let it happen. He held you there, lips so close you could taste his whiskey on the tip of your tongue, and waited for you to speak. Waited for you to make your final choice about him.

"And if I am?" Your fingers curled into his shirt, chin lifting in a show of defiance. "Ready?"

He groaned at the sight of your fire coming back, his forehead falling to press against yours. "Don't say shit you don't mean."

"I do mean it."

Logan felt his entire body crumple as the familiar sound of his claws echoed in the small space—dust from the now split wall dropping onto your clothes. He could hear Wade's shout of disdain through the already thin walls. But his sole focus was on the way your breath quickened, how your fingers dug beneath his flannel and onto his thin beater.

"What do you want from me honey? Say it. I'll fuckin’ do anything."

The echo of your breathy whine fucked him up for good; ruined any chance of sanity for the rest of the night. If the closet wasn't so damn small he'd grind you along his thigh to watch your mouth go slack. He'd drop to his knees to taste you and drag you over the edge again and again without any intention of stopping.

"I want an apology," you replied, shaking him loose from the haze of lust he found himself stuck in.

His lips curled into a smile. "That right?"

You nodded, fighting against everything in you that screamed to keep this going. To let him kiss you senseless and fuck you against the wall. You didn't care that you were still in Wade's apartment, you didn't care that you were probably down to four minutes and a handful of seconds.

This felt pivotal to the shaky ground you both balanced on. And you were desperate to see what became of the mess that would no doubt come crashing down around you.

"You left." The words were a high gasp as his hand splayed against your stomach. "I-I missed you."

A rumble echoed from the bottom of his chest. "Yeah bub? Ya missed me?"

The words were on the back of your tongue, an explanation on just how much you ached for him. How nights without hearing his voice left you battling demons you usually kept at bay. But his hand was rucking up the bottom of your shirt and the heat of his calloused palm was against bare skin. Dipping lower as your mouth dropped open.

"You got no idea," he growled, lips so close to yours it caused your heart to scream. "How much I fuckin' thought of you. Of this." Fingers slipped beneath the top of your jeans and your head fell back against the wall. "Thought about how sweet you'd taste for me."

"L-Logan–"

He smiled. "Let me give you a proper fuckin' apology."

Echoes of laughter filtered through the already thin door as someone (most likely Wade) told yet another joke. At any other time you would dig up the last strand of your common sense and put an end to Logan's movements. Any other time you'd have enough coherency to understand that if you got caught neither of you would live this down.

Any other time that would have been the first thing on your mind.

But Logan's fingers brushed the edge of your navy blue laced underwear, effectively killing every thought in your head before it could fully form. Your hips canted up into his touch, fingers burying in his hair to tug his face closer. He felt too far even as he pressed you against the cold wall—his body emanating enough heat to have you gasping for air.

"I can smell it," he rasped. "Drivin' me insane honey."

A moan climbed up your throat, but he silenced you easily. His lips found yours in the darkness and you felt your heart cry at knowing he was back. That he wanted you.

You clung to him, tongue meeting his in a messy reunion. All teeth and quick stunted breaths and spit you felt cling to your joined lips. You swallowed his groan with a soft whine of your own. His hand dipped one inch further, fingers prodding against your patch of hair, and you felt your stomach clench.

"Oh–" Your gasp was sharp, loud enough for Logan to cringe as it echoed in the small space.

That didn't stop his fingers from sliding through your slick with a stunted moan. His lips a hot press against your cheek—body caging you into the drywall.

"Gotta be quiet," he whispered.

"S-Sorry–" You dug your teeth into your lip hard enough to taste copper. All in the hopes that it would silence every sound that was desperate to be set free. With the curl of his fingers he struck against your clit in rough strokes, dooming you to the shame that would no doubt come once the both of you stepped out of this closet. "Ah!"

His lips slammed against yours, tongue plunging into your already gaping mouth. He tasted like whiskey. Like everything you longed for in the past two weeks.

Your heart clenched in your chest as he upped the pace of his fingers—the wet echo of your slick now bouncing off the walls. A tremble began to form in your legs and you tugged on his hair to signal what was about to come. But Logan remained one step ahead of you.

He smiled, ignoring the aching throb of his cock as he coaxed you towards a quick and blinding release. One he would replay in his mind for the rest of the night. He knew Wade probably stood outside the door with his ear pressed to the wood, but found he didn't mind. Because you were in his arms, with your lips against his in a dazed kiss, and he had never felt such bliss before.

"C'mon honey. Lemme see you."

"'M almost there," you breathed, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted.

He wanted to eat you alive.

"I know you are. Can feel you leakin' on my hand." His teeth scraped against the shell of your ear, hips grinding along your thigh for some relief. "Let go so I can fuckin' taste you."

A blinding heat began to build faster than you had time to latch onto it; his fingers now tapping roughly against your pulsing clit. You reached for it, let that feeling begin to consume you. Only for something heavy to slam against the closet door—startling the both of you.

Logan ripped his hand away, his body stumbling to the opposite wall. He looked flushed. As if you were the one about to rip a mind numbing orgasm out of his body. Not the other way around.

You coughed, fixing your shirt and jeans as the door swung open. Wade's cocky smile told you everything you needed to know. Being subtle and playing this off was no longer an option, because he knew what you were up to. He could read it on your face.

"What ya thinkin' about?"

"Wilson–" Logan growled, moving to stand in front of you—his claws itching to slide free and dig into Wade's super-healing flesh.

"Wasn't talking to you peanut." He peeked over Logan's shoulder, his smile big and bright and glaringly obvious. "Don't tell me. You two were also debating the logistics of bringing back Robert Downey Jr. to the MCU."

"Shut your goddamn–"

"Because I think it's a money grab. I mean come on Iron Man? Again?"

Logan began to reach for his neck, but your hands pressing to his waist forced him to freeze. You pressed a kiss to his shoulder with a laugh as you squeezed past the both of them. He felt his heart twist in his chest tight enough to send pain down his spine.

Wade still smiled like an all knowing asshole, but the sight of you joining Vanessa on the couch with a sheepish smile eased the nerves that still jumped under his skin.

"Not another word," he spit, shoving a finger into Wade's chest to force him back a few feet.

The man merely smiled—eyes flicking down to the glaringly obvious bulge in Logan's jeans. "Don't tell me. Whiskey dick again? I've told you it's common–"

His claws came free with a roar. Wade's familiar shriek now echoing through the apartment as he sprinted towards your spot on the couch. In the hopes that you might be able to tame the animal intent on ripping him to shreds.

He could count on one hand how often silence echoed throughout the apartment at night. Each time being when Wade disappeared to Vanessa's place with the intent of returning well past the afternoon. Trash still lingered here and there after the small party, but he ignored it in favor of pouring another glass of whiskey.

Falling to the couch with a groan, he felt the weariness of two weeks with Wade on the road resurface in his body. Eventually he'd will himself to sleep. Still plagued by nightmare after nightmare. Except his mind was stuck on the thought of the closet. How you arched into his body with a whine, how wet you were for him in such a short span of time.

There was something addicting about seeing you confront him with your anger. All the fire you kept locked away suddenly became the sole focus of your energy and Logan found he couldn't get enough.

An hour after you were walked home by Vanessa (Wade in tow behind her), he still could smell you on his fingers. The way your scent clung to his shirt when you were up against him. How you moaned for him. So pretty and willing. He couldn't remember the last time he'd sported a hardon for longer than an hour; yet in your presence they always seemed to fucking happen.

The whiskey kept his mind settled on the present moment. On Althea's snores in the background and the city noise that spilled in through the open window. If he was lucky, he'd get twenty minutes in a hot shower with his hand wrapped around his throbbing cock.

That alone kept him from passing out on the shitty couch—his mind hazy and drunk on lust.

A beep from his now charged phone drew his attention to your window across the street. The light was on. So he knew you were awake. But the sight of you walking out into your living room—a black robe wrapped around your body—had him sitting up straight. He reached for the device, flipping it open to see your name flash across the small screen.

Logan couldn't even remember pressing answer. All he knew was that your voice filled his ear seconds later.

"Hi," you said, tone breathy and high. Flashes of you from earlier began to enter his mind.

"Thought you went to sleep honey."

You smiled, pushing the window open—your phone tucked between your cheek and shoulder. "I tried."

"Nightmares?"

"No," you sighed. "Something else."

The feeling from earlier began to lick at his veins again, smoldering beneath the surface of his skin. "Yeah?" You nodded. "What is it?"

The sharp inhale of breath gave him a clear and straight answer. One that had him spreading his legs a bit wider on the couch—eyes fixed on the way you fidgeted with your hands. He wasn't able to get you off earlier; just barely on the precipice of an orgasm before you were rudely interrupted. And though you wouldn't say it out loud, he knew you still felt the remnant of an ongoing fire.

"Wade was kind of an asshole earlier about it," you mumbled.

Logan had never seen you this shy before. He wanted to sear the sight into his mind.

He chuckled, low and raspy; you felt it in your stomach. "He's usually that way."

"He got in the middle of us," you sighed.

"He did." Logan leaned forward, elbows braced on his thighs, and watched as you stepped a bit closer to the window. "What about it honey?"

"Well–" Your fingers toyed with the tie of your robe, eyes glued to the way he got to his feet and moved towards the glass. "My door is unlocked."

The robe dropped to the ground with a soft flutter and Logan's mouth went dry. You stood bare before him, the phone clutched in your hand—determination on your face. He felt every part of his body scream at the sight of your skin—your breasts and cunt—presented to him this way. You were a marble statue straight out of a museum and he wasn't worthy of even getting a mere glimpse.

Your heart hammered in your chest at the sight of his claws coming free—a growl ripping through the phone line. He looked starving. Practically feral at the sight of you like this. You'd never wanted a man to devour you this way before; as if you were the meal to be served up on a silver platter.

Cold air seeped in through your open window, tightening your nipples, and Logan clutched the side of his window frame hard enough for the wood to crack. Your scent lingered in his nose—driving him past the brink of sanity.

"Don't fuckin' move," he snarled, slamming the phone shut in his large palm and heading straight for his door.

Counting the seconds, you remained stuck on the sight of his now empty apartment. People milled along the street down below—the late night goers that headed towards the subway entrance. You only hoped that no one bothered to look up. Or else they'd see you naked and standing before an open window.

Five minutes barely passed before your door was being shoved open, his boots a loud echo in the stark silence of your apartment. You turned—gasping at the sight of him disheveled and panting. His claws slid back as he shut the door with a soft thud that felt like a gun going off. Whatever words you wanted to say—explanations you longed to give for your behavior—died the second he walked towards you. Intent painted blatantly on his face.

Meeting him halfway, you collided against his body with a breathless kiss. Your fingers clung to his back as his hands gripped your bare thighs and hoisted you up. He stumbled forward, slamming you softly against the nearest wall, and took your mouth with a possession you'd never experienced before.

Logan kissed you with a heady fervor that left you dizzy. After so long, the aching need for you began to ebb into a madness that swallowed him whole.

One that demanded to be felt in its entirety.

"I'm sorry," he gasped against your lips, tongue licking along your teeth. "For leaving."

"Logan–"

He shook his head, gripping the back of your neck to draw you in for another kiss. "'M never leaving you again honey. Got that?"

With a nod, you pulled him back—tasting the remnants of whiskey and a cigar he must have smoked after you left. He growled into you, hips chasing your dripping cunt as it slid along the crotch of his jeans. Soaking him before he could even get a chance to taste.

There was no denying what this would lead towards. What those days of conversations and quick glances would amount to when the tension finally broke. Logan expected to be left with the fragments of a broken relationship that never was. You were adamant on making it become more.

"I want–" You pulled away with a sharp gasp, his lips slotting against your neck—working down the skin with gentle bites. "Want you inside me."

His forehead pressed to your shoulder, a groan ripping from his chest. "Fuck."

Your lips connected to his neck when he began to walk, teeth sinking into the veins that ran down into his shirt. Logan had to struggle to keep his feet straight—his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass. He couldn't figure out how he managed to have such a stroke of luck. What occurred for him to have you in his arms, naked and wanton and grinding against his leaking cock that smeared inside his jeans.

A soft moan was pressed to his ear when he dragged your hips along his. The final steps into your bedroom now turning into a race to get you spread beneath him. To finally have you in ways that left him worried for his own psyche.

"Driving me fuckin' insane honey," he bit out against your ear, dropping you onto the soft mattress.

You smiled—eyes dark and shining with a cloud of lust. "So are you." Your fingers tugged at the bottom of his shirt. "I've been wanting you to touch me for weeks."

He wasn't going to fucking last.

Yanking off his shirt, he let both of them fall to your floor—giving you free reign to drink in the sight of him above you. The soft touch of your fingers trailed down his arms, tracing the veins in fascination. Your lips parted, chest rising and falling with each quick breath, and Logan felt the strings holding his self control in place snap.

He dipped down, sucking your peaked nipple into his mouth with a groan.

"F-Fuck," you sighed, nails digging into his shoulders so hard he felt his skin rip before it healed over. His cock jumped with the pain—hands fisting your soft comforter to keep himself stable.

"Do that again."

He caught a glimpse of your fucked out smile before your fingers were digging into his back, scratching lines across his skin. A loud moan slipped past his lips as he worked his way down your body. Lips trailing along your stomach—teeth sinking into your hips so hard it would hurt tomorrow. And you scratched line after line into his skin.

Adamant on leaving a mark that might stay till the morning.

"I didn't get to taste you," he murmured, hands moving to spread your soft and supple thighs.

"The closet was too small—oh–"

His nose pressed to your mound, inhaling the scent that drove him feral for weeks on end. Logan was fully aware how animalistic he turned the second his eyes landed on your glistening cunt. He wouldn't be surprised if drool began to slip from his mouth at such a pretty sight.

"Fuckin' gorgeous."

Hazel eyes darkened at the sight of you clenching around nothing—your hand delving into his already mussed hair. No response existed when he looked at you like this. When his thumbs spread you obscenely with a hoarse groan.

"Logan," you mewled.

Trying to form a coherent word flew out of your mind, his touch all you could focus on. A sharp cry fell past your lips when his mouth sealed over your cunt. Tongue flicking your clit and thumb sliding between your dripping folds.

Your legs were hitched to his shoulders, body bent upwards as he ate you like his last meal. His eyes fluttered shut with a moan and he sucked at your clit, rolling it along the tip of his tongue. Sounds you'd never heard before ripped from your chest, your fingers scrambling to grab onto his arms. To find an anchor in the dizzying pleasure he dragged you towards.

The simmering heat from hours before rose up in your body quicker than you expected. Reminding you that he'd already brought you to the edge once.

This time wouldn't take long at all.

He groaned, two fingers prodding at your entrance, and buried his tongue between your folds. The wet sound of his mouth sent a flare of need through your chest—drawing your lungs tight and near the precipice of pain. Breath became nonexistent as he lapped at you—his fingers sinking right down to the knuckle. You clawed at his skin, mouth open and chest heaving.

"Fuck–" Rough pads curled along your walls, striking against a spot you'd never reached on your own. It tore a cry from you, your legs now a trembling mess over his shoulders.

But he kept going. Ate you without stopping. As if breathing was secondary to the taste of you spread on his tongue.

"I-I'm gonna—fuck Logan!"

A growl was mumbled into your cunt, eyes now sharp and focused on your face as it screwed up in pleasure. The echo of your slick filled your ears, his fingers pumping into you and mouth drinking down everything you gave him. It all became too much. Until something bright and searing began to unfold in your body.

His teeth scraped your clit with another rumbled sound, and whatever remained to hold you together snapped. A sob of his name was yanked from your throat, fingers gripping at his hair to keep him still as you grinded against his tongue. And he collapsed onto the mattress, hips pushing into the bed while you used him.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes when the final dregs of your release began to seep from your body. Even while his tongue continued to lap at you—roughly moaning at the taste of you leaking into his eager mouth.

"Wait," you sucked in a breath, hand pressed to his head to keep him at bay when pain sparked through your body. "T-Too much."

His lips curled into a smile, canines on display and mouth shiny with your slick. "'M gonna do that again." Your eyes widened in protest, only for him to get to his feet. "But first honey. I'm gonna fuck you."

The flame sparked to life again, slowly simmering at the base of your stomach. You met him halfway, crawling to your knees to reach for his belt buckle. Lips sliding against his in a messy kiss as he shared your taste, licked it into your mouth with a sigh. It wasn't until your hand dipped into his jeans that he stopped you—his eyebrows pulled together and lips swollen.

"Hold on."

"What's wrong?" you murmured, kissing his chest and biting at the muscle.

"Not—ha—" His hand gripped your ass at the feeling of you tugging at his jeans; your fingers slipping down to cup him gently. "Not gonna last very long if you do that bub."

You grinned. "It's only fair. After you got to taste me...James."

"Shit." A hand on your throat dragged you back to his lips, to the hot slide of his tongue along yours. "Later. I'll let ya do whatever the fuck you want with me later."

Oh how you liked the sound of that. Images of getting him beneath you, of his head tipped back in pleasure, filled your mind. They begged you to make it reality.

Logan however had other plans.

"But I want to suck you off," you pouted.

He felt his cock leak down your hand, the pearly precum now spread along your thumb that rubbed at his vein. Weeks of starving for you left him an impatient man. Yet something told him you saw it clearly in the way his whole body tensed. His fingers digging sharply into any part of you he could reach.

Reaching for your leg he hooked it around his waist and knelt on the bed—his jeans and boots in a heap on the floor. Your lips never strayed far from his, fingers dancing along his bare back—feeling the muscles shift beneath hot skin. He wanted to lay you out beneath him, but the need for more began to eat at both your hearts.

This wasn't a quick and fast fuck. He wouldn't leave in the morning with no notice. No, Logan knew that when it came time for the sun to rise in the sky, he'd be back between your thighs with a sated smile on his face.

"Gimme a second honey," he panted, gently removing your hand from his cock. "Don't want to fuck this up."

You laughed, nuzzling his cheek as he dragged his head through your folds. "You won't baby."

The word slipped off your tongue with ease, but he felt like a shot had just gone through his chest. Somewhere between the two weeks spent apart and getting you like this—wrapped around him entirely at peace—Logan made a choice. He understood what this meant. He knew that you weren't temporary.

Perhaps it was stupid of him to dive in so quickly. Perhaps you’d regret this choice in a month or two. But he was tired of hiding from a past version of himself that continued to haunt his waking life.

He wasn't going to be the man who ran.

He would forever remain the man who stayed.

Your face contorted the second he began to slip into your dripping cunt—fingers sharply digging into his shoulders as he stretched you slowly. Teeth sunk into your bottom lip before your head fell back—a guttural moan pulling from your throat at the feel of him.

"Big," you rasped, hips canting down to help him.

White flashed behind his eyes when you clenched, a broken grunt pressed to your chest. "You can take it for me."

"I–" Another short thrust had him slipping into you with a sigh of your name. "O-Oh fuck."

He felt his claws bite at the skin of his knuckles, his teeth now a sharp prick at the top of your breast, as you settled into his lap. Sitting on his cock with a garbled shout of his name. His hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face back to his, and Logan could feel the pull of his orgasm draw tight in his body at the sight of you entirely fucked out.

"You with me?"

Lips curled into a soft smile, your eyes fluttering open. "Feels like you're in my chest," you mumbled.

Pride bloomed in his stomach, mixing with the heat that ate him alive. "Yeah?"

No answer was given because you'd decided it was time to move with a shift of your hips. He let you take the lead, giving what you could take and pulling back when your face screwed up in pain. He wasn't a small man—that he understood plainly. But the sight of you grinding along his lap, fucking yourself on his cock, had him nearly begging for more.

You gripped his shoulders, clambered to your knees, and sunk down on him again in one swift plunge. Logan choked on his spit the second you started to ride him in earnest. Sinking down on him in short repeated thrusts, you found his lips in a kiss that melted away into a mess of teeth.

"So fuckin' perfect." He gripped at your hips, pulling you down on his red and aching cock. "Takin' me like you were made for it honey."

A whimper met his ears at the slight shift in angle—the head of his cock now pounding against the spongy part of your walls. He grinned at the sound, helping you move just a bit quicker in order to chase the high that built rapidly in your body.

"You were made to fuckin' take it huh?"

You nodded, eyes bleary with tears. "Uh huh," you sighed.

"Made to fuck my cock," he growled. "To cum on it."

"L-Logan–" you whined, thighs shaking with the effort of riding him. He noticed seconds before you did.

"I know baby," he cooed, pushing you back onto the bed and sinking into you with a sharp thrust that sent his name careening from your mouth. "'S too much for you."

Hooking your legs over his shoulders, he claimed your lips in a final kiss before setting a pace that had you clawing at his shoulders. It was almost punishing how good he fucked you. His hips pounded into yours, the repetitive slap of skin against skin now louder than your combined moans.

You felt the string begin to draw tight again, pulling at each muscle and tendon in your body. The walls of your cunt clamped down tight, drawing him in as your hands braced against his chest—your eyes rolling back at the feel of his body dragging against yours.

"There we go," he grunted, fingers sliding through your slickened mess to rub at your clit in small rough circles. "C'mon bub. Fuckin' cum on it yeah?"

"Ah!" Fighting for breath, you felt your entire body break as bliss flooded your system.

The scream of his name pierced his eardrums and Logan swore he felt his soul snap in half at the sight of you so lost in your pleasure. Chasing his own high, he bracketed his arms against your head, his claws now scratching at the wood of your headboard as he fucked into your pulsing cunt. The feel of your hand on his back, your lips against his jaw, sent him flying off behind you.

A rough snarl tore from his mouth as he came, burying himself deep enough to send pain down your thighs. The warmth of him spurting into you sent another flare of heat down your spine, sating whatever unconscious need you harbored to have him this way.

His head dropped to your chest, claws embedded in your now ruined pillow, as his cock began to soften. Your bodies reaching a level of comfort that hadn't been there before.

You ran a hand through his hair, toying with the locks as your eyes fell shut and legs moved to wrap around his hips. It shocked you how much you longed to remain like this. Pressed against his naked body with sleep lingering on the edges of your mind. You nearly asked if he felt the same, but the contented sigh that brushed against your breast gave you the answer you wanted.

"We're doing that again," he mumbled, kissing at your still hard nipple.

"Soon hopefully," you smiled.

"Mm." His cock stirred to life slowly, sending a wave of surprise down your spine. "Careful what you wish for bub."

"At least let me get some water," you mumbled, drawing his face back to yours—thumb running along his cheek. "Then you can–"

Your eyes flew open at the sound of something blasting from across the street. Logan turned with an irritated grunt as a song began to filter through your open living room window. One that you recognized instantly as WHAM!. Careless Whisper if you were shooting for accuracy.

Logan groaned, dropped his face to the crook of your neck. "I'm gonna fuckin' kill him."

A shout bounced off the buildings, Wade's voice suddenly louder than the song. "That's what I'm talking about honey badger! Al give me back my fucking twenty!"

You laughed, trying to listen to what else he said, even as Logan began to kiss a trail down your shoulder. His mind focused on far more important things than his fucking roommate. The song continued to play, Wade singing along horribly, and you suddenly felt your future encompass you with a warm smile.

A life of joy, of passion, of family.

Sinking into his touch with a sigh, you let the worry fall from you in layers. The promise of this, no longer a fantasy.

note: they finally fucked y'all! if you finished all of this then i love you. drink some water per wade's words from earlier.

#logan howlett x f!reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x y/n #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine smut #my writing

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doitforbangchan · 2 months

Text

All Bark and No Bite - 20

Masterlist /Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Chapter Warnings: Afab/fem reader, violence (poorly written), character deaths, blood, weapons (knives, gun, shovel), choking, angst, cursing, crying, name calling, kissing, suggestive- I want to start with an apology to Atiny bc this is nooooot good for them tbh

WC: 12.7k

“Please?”

“No, baby.”

“Please?”

“I said no, omega.”

“But why?”

“This is a serious deal, I don’t need my pretty omega to be a distraction.”

Chan's words made you lip wobble and you cast your head down as you blinked back tears. You had asked -more like begged- to join him today. You heard him sigh and step away from where he was fixing his hair in the mirror and he turned to you. He tenderly held your face in his hands and lifted your gaze back up to his.

“What I mean baby, is I don’t know what kind of people these potential buyers are. I would rather you be here with the pack where I know you're safe and sound. Okay?” The alpha was pumping out calming pheromones in an attempt to sooth you and make you more agreeable. You breathed in the dizzying scent and immediately felt better. You nodded and only had a mild pout remaining on your lips. He chuckled and gave you a gentle kiss to your head before turning back to looking in the mirror.

He looked good. He was dressed in black dress pants that hugged his meaty thighs just right, and a white button down shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons were undone, giving a peak of his broad chest underneath. He paired the outfit with a pair of black Prada dress shoes and a gold chain around his neck that glimmered in the reflection. Overall his look screamed old money.

You would have jumped his bones if you hadn’t been so anxious. Ever since you woke up this morning there has been this gnawing uneasiness that had been plaguing you that you couldn’t explain. Chan had to go a few towns over to show a big property for some potential buyers. Something in you didn’t want to see your alpha leave today. Or at the least you wanted him to bring you. You and chan had chalked it up to omega hormones but deep down you knew it was something else. Something more sinister.

“I’ll miss you today.” You murmured, casting your gaze to his now pushed back hair then flickering over to his face where you caught his poorly contained grin.

“Aww I’ll miss you more, Baby. I’ll be thinking of you the whole time I’m gone.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, “Yeah right. The only thing on your mind is how much money your company is going to make from this deal.”

Chan gasped dramatically, acting hurt. “That’s not true! You are always the main thing on my mind. I’d say 80 percent of my thoughts are about how much I miss and love you.”

You pouted again, “Oh yeah? What’s the other 20 percent?”

“How much I can’t wait to spoil my baby and my pack with the huge payout.” He grinned at you cheekily and gave you a wink.

You giggled, “You know the boys would be stoked to hear you say that. Still, you’ll be gone practically all day. Whatever shall I do with myself, hmm?” ”

Suddenly he snapped his fingers as if he had a great idea.

“I have a great idea!” Oh he was so cute. The alpha took out his phone and typed something quickly then he shoved it back in his pocket. “There, now you won’t be bored.” He seemed pleased with himself.

“What did you do?” You asked, narrowing your eyes in inquiry and crossing your arms. Literally a second later there was a knock on the door of Chan's room. “Channieee what did you do?”

He smirked at you and raised his hands in defense, “Nothing nothing! Come on in!” He called out.

Slowly the door creaked open and the epitome of blue haired happiness peaked his head in, offering you a heart melting smile. “Good morning, sunshine.”

No matter how many times you’ve seen those freckles they still managed to give you butterflies. “Morning Lixie. What are you up to?”

A flash of confusion went over his face, then he looked to Chan quickly then back to you. “I’m here to pick you up? Aren’t we going to the farmers market this morning?”

Your eyes lit up in excitement, “Really?!”

Both men chuckled at how easily excitable you were- they found it endearing and it just made them love you even more (if that was even possible). It seems like Chan's little distraction method was already working.

“Yes Baby. I thought it would be fun for you and Lix to go out for a while.” Chan said, placing a kiss on your forehead. Then he looked down at his watch, seeing it was already ten am. “I gotta get going, I meet with the clients at noon and it takes about a little more than an hour or so if there's no traffic. Plus there's a coffee shop I like to stop by when I go.” he gave you a cheeky kiss on your lips then a hard smack to your ass as he passed. Earning him a loud ‘HEY!’. He laughed and sped out before he could face your wrath. “I love you! Have fun with Felix! That’s an order!”

You rolled your eyes with a huff, then you sarcastically saluted him. “Sir yes sir.”

“Save the ‘sir’ talk for Min.” Chan snickered leaving the room, giving Felix a pat on the back as he went.

Felix stepped fully into the room now. He was dressed casually in a pair of wide leg jeans and an oversized white baggy tank. It was a good look on him, especially with his hair tied back. “Are you ready to go, love?”

You were already dressed and ready for the day, donning a long white sundress that had a pink floral design and a corseted top. You felt something was missing though. “Hmm.. gimme one second Lix - OH I KNOW!” You snapped your fingers then ran to the closet, quickly pulling out a floppy white sun hat. You put it on your head proudly and turned back to Felix.

He held up two thumbs up and had a wide smile, “Perfect farmers market outfit!”

You beamed back, “Thanks Lixie. I’m ready for our date now.”

A deep blush appeared on his face and up to his ears and he couldn’t get rid of the giddiness in his expression. ‘Our date…’ Felix liked the sound of that. He looped arms with you and led you out of the house.

The market was surprisingly bustling. There were many different stalls set up with vendors selling all kinds of home grown fruits and veggies, along with some selling baked goods and garden starters.

The both of you were having a great time together. You had already drinken a fresh smoothie from a food truck near the beginning. Each of you had gotten a different flavor and had shared both. They were delicious and a great way to beat the ever growing heat.

You were telling Felix about your plans for some of the produce when a little girl no older than three years old ran past you, being playfully chased by an older boy who looked to be about six. They ran past laughing and giggling and it brought a smile to your face. You knew they had to be siblings by the way they both had chunky cheeks and light brown hair. It made you wonder what your future kids will look like . ‘Will they have my eyes? Chans nose perhaps? Maybe little pouty lips?’ Subconsciously you brought a hand up to rest over your stomach.

“Are you alright, love?”

Felixs words brought you out of your head, and his gentle face appeared in front of you. He noticed your hand had moved to your midsection.

“Yeah, m’ fine Lixie.” You offered a small smile and he raised a brow like he didn’t believe you. “It’s just..” You looked down nervously. “Do you think Channie would wanna start our family soon?”

Felix almost felt his heart break at your crestfallen face. But then all at once it was rebuilt again. ‘She wants a baby? She would be so adorable with a pregnant belly.’

“Oh omega..” He cooed and lifted your head with his free hand. You didn’t want to meet his eyes but you knew that’s what he was looking for so tearfully you did. “I know for a fact that Alpha will want to give you pups, he’s wanted to be a dad his whole life. Most of us have. It’s only a matter of time before he’s ready. I think maybe he wants you to be ready first.”

You nodded, “I think you’ll all make wonderful fathers.”

He nuzzled your nose with his own, “And you’ll make an amazing mother. Plus you’ll be extra cute when you're all round and waddling around.” He pressed a cheeky peck to your lips. “Even imagining it is driving me crazy. If Chan doesn’t hurry up I may have to do it myself.”

You snorted and pulled back, “Yeah because defying him and taking things into your own hands worked out so well last time.”

He grimaced remembering how terrible it was to not be able to touch you. “On second thought, maybe we’ll wait a while.” You laughed then returned to browsing. Almost immediately your attention was off the previous subject.

“OOO look at those! They’re huge!” You exclaimed and pointed at the massive watermelons in front of you . They had to be the biggest fruits you had ever seen in your life and you knew you had to have it. You looked at Felix with puppy dog eyes, asking for permission to get one of these giant melons.

The beta looked down at all the things you had already gotten; his arms held bags full of squashes, berries, breads and goods galore (he had demanded he hold the bags for you no matter what you bought). He sighed, knowing he would never be able to tell you no but dreading having to carry that around. “Ok baby, anything for you. Pick whatever one you want.”

You critically examined each melon, then pointed at the one that looked the best to you. “Ahh good pick young lady.” The old man at the stall rubbed his beard. “That one is about 40 pounds and should be one of the sweetest ones.”

You clasped your hands together and handed him some money (that Felix was gracious enough to let you hold on to; to make you feel like you're contributing), “That’s so heavy!”

The beta dreaded having to carry this thing but he went to pick it up anyways.

“Lixie, it’s ok I can take it-”

“Nah I got it”

“At least let me carry the bags-”

“Pfft, I got this Baby, I’m a man you know?” He flexed as if he were trying to make a point and you rolled your eyes and held your hands up in defeat. With a deep breath, he tried to lift the melon. He almost fell backwards with it in his arms, the weight being too much along with everything else.

Thankfully the old man was there, as he had to hurriedly take the large fruit from Felix before he could drop it. “Careful there, son. That took me months to grow.”

You giggled while Felix held in a pout at being scolded. “Aww Lix it’s ok, it’s just a melon I don’t need it.”

He scowled lightly, “Now hold on a minute Baby, you’re getting this melon if it’s the last thing I do!”

You did in fact get your melon… After the farmer man had to carry it to the car for you. Even though his ego was hurt Felix still thanked the man and handed him a twenty dollar bill for his trouble.

Now you were both in the car on the way back home. You couldn’t stop your little chuckles at how cute his red cheeks were. You reached up and pinched the heated skin.

“Baby stoooopppp it’s not funny!” He whined and smacked your hand away while keeping one hand on the wheel. “What kind of man can’t even carry a watermelon?!”

“Lix, anybody would have struggled with that thing. It doesn’t make you less of a man.”

He grumbled under his breath, “the farmer could lift it just fine..”

“Felix… are you jealous of the farmer?” You asked slowly, trying not to laugh again.

“He was like seventy years old and could pick it up no problem! And he had a sick ass beard!”

“You are so cute Lix oh my god.” This time there was no containing your cackling, you laughed so hard tears started to well in your eyes. Seeing you laughing next to him made Felix start to laugh too, now realizing how silly it is.

The car drove down the forest road to the house, then a few moments later pulled up and parked in front of the house. Seeing Chan's car gone from the driveway reminded you of the dread that loomed within you, your sweet scent slightly souring.

Felix turned off the car and turned to you with a crinkle in his brow. “What’s wrong baby?”

“Something feels wrong Lix. Something has felt wrong all day.” You wrung your hands together anxiously. You looked at the time on the dashboard, seeing it ‘11:50’. Chan might not be with the clients yet. “Do you think we can maybe send a text to Channie just to make sure he’s alright?”

The beta pulled out his phone, “absolutely.” He opens his phone and hands it to you. “Type whatever you want. We really should get you your own phone soon, it’s not practical in the long run that you don’t have one.”

You took his phone and typed out a quick message to your alpha, wishing him luck and telling him you loved and missed him. You sent it with bated breath and waited. After about thirty seconds the message said ‘read’ and you felt like you could breathe again. A response came in a moment after.

‘I miss you more baby. I’ll see you before you know it and you can tell me all about how much fun you had today. I love you, my gorgeous girl.’

“See? He’s alright.” Lix reassured and patted your knee. You nodded and handed your phone back to him. You felt better after seeing his reply but the dread didn’t dwindle by much. Felix patted your knee with a smile then opened his door and hopped out, running around to open yours but he wasn’t quick enough before you opened your door with a playful grin. “Baaabbyy I wanted to open it for you!” He whined with a huff.

“Oh I’m sorry, I apologize. You are a man after all.” You teased him then shut the door again. He laughed and opened your car door with a bow.

“After you mam.”

“Thank you, good sir.” You giggled and accepted his outstretched hand. When you were out you gave him a little peck on his lips. He shut your door then opened the back to grab the goods you acquired today- glaring daggers at the offending melon. You rolled your eyes, “ oh don’t be petty, it’s just a fruit Lix!”

“A fruit who disrespected me! And is about to do it again!” He protested, a frown now gracing his freckled face. “We both know I can’t carry that thing…So now I gotta do the most painful thing in the world.”

“Aww what’s that, babe?”

“I have to ask Changbin to help.”

That once again made you laugh, “His ego is going to be through the roof. I’ll ask him, Lix. He won’t make fun of you if you have your hands full. Or you could let me help yo-”

“Nope go ahead and get Bin.” He was already filling his arms with your bags and goods.

“Hmph. Fine.” You pouted and walked into the house, calling for the alpha. “Ohh Binnnniiiie” You sung aloud, then waited. A second later a rumbling pair of feet came scrambling into the room, almost slipping on the rug. You hid your smile with your hand as Changbin was now in front of you pretending to act cool as if he hadn’t almost fallen.

“Oh hey Baby. You called?” His ears were red and he leaned on the wall.

“Hi handsome, do you mind helping me out please? There's a heavy melon I can’t lift.” You clasped your hands out in front of you and smiled at him sweetly, making his heart beat wildly in his chest.

“Of course I’ll help you, but wasn’t Felix with you?” Bin asked.

“Right here.” Felix came in behind you with his arms full.

“Damn baby, how much did you get?” Changbin did a double take as the beta passed by him.

His comment made you feel sheepish, you bit your lip and slightly furrowed your brow. “Oh uh, ya know.. Just some stuff for the pack and the garden..”

“In her defense, she’s an omega who was let loose in a farmers market with almost unlimited funds.” Felix called from further within the house now.

“I’m kind of jealous you went without me.” The alpha admitted and followed you out to the car.

“You do have to share me sometimes, Binnie.” You sing songed your words, then yelped when you felt a swift smack to your butt. “Ouch!”

“Holy shit that thing is huge!” The back was still open in the car so he got a good look at the monstrosity.

“I know right?! I’ve never seen one so big!”

He snickered, “That’s what she said.”

You snorted and smacked his butt in return. “You're damn right!”

He balked at your response, face turning even redder and mumbling, “Who are you?”

“I’m what you boys have turned me into.” You grinned at him with a wink.

Changbin hauled the melon into his arms with ease, holding it with one arm and using the other hand to shut the door. You swooned at how easy it was for him, biting your lip at the flex of his muscles when he lifted the fruit. With his free hand he grabbed yours and led you back into the house. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“Hmm,” You hummed, pursing your lips in thought. You knew you should distract yourself and usually that would be with chores but you had all been good about keeping up with them that there was no need. “I’m not sure. What about you, Binnie?”

“Whatever you're doing, I’m doin baby.” He brought the back of your hand up to his mouth and gave it a wet kiss.

His sweet answer made you let out a quiet purr. Your inner omega was over the moon to have happy Binnie back. The last few days had been a painful whirlwind of emotions for the both of you.

You thought back to the saplings you got from the market. “How does some gardening sound?”

“Only if we can have some lemonade while we do it!”

You giggled and nodded, “Of course, if we still have some. Ji has been drinking a lot of it lately.”

Going into the kitchen you saw Lix and Hyunjin, both going through the various things you brought home.

“Good haul, Baby!” Hyunjin said when he spotted you entering the space. Then his eyes widened at the sight of the watermelon. “Woah, that is freakin gigantic! You weren’t lying Lix.”

“Why would I lie about the literal bane of my existence?” The younger beta grumbled.

Hyunjin shrugged, “I don’t know, I thought you were exaggerating.” He came up to you and literally pushed Changbin away, then enveloped you in a hug. “Hi gorgeous! Did you have fun?”

“Mmhmm,” You leaned up and gave him a kiss. “A ton of fun. They had so much to look at! I saw some produce I had never even heard of before!”

Hyunjin went back to scavenging through the goods, “I want to go next time! It’s not fair that Felix had all the fun with you.” He pouted and glared at the other beta- who in protest stuck his tongue out childishly.

“You had fun with her the other day! We never spend time together anymore!”

“Well I’m not the one who misbehaves, so I think I’ve earned unlimited time.” Hyunjin snarked with a stomp.

“Children settle down!” Changbin pointed at each of them, trying to calm down the gradually heating argument. He could sense your ever growing perturbation as the betas argued and -especially after the other day- he didn’t want anything to stress you out. “Everyone needs to get better at sharing in this damn house.” He tried to harden his tone like an alphas, wanting to get his authority across.

Both betas scoffed at his attempt, Hyunjin giving him a dramatic side eye. “Since when do you go into high and mighty alpha mode?”

“Since your weird territorial squabbling is stressing out the love of our lives, you asshole.” Changbin gestured to you, who had been silently biting your lip.

Everyone's eyes softened, “Oh omega, we’re sorry, we weren’t trying to fight.” Lix said and wrapped you in a hug.

“Yeah we were only joking around, baby.” Hyunjin added, trying to diffuse the tension.

You nodded, “It’s alright, I know you boys like to bicker like old people.” ‘I just wish it wasn’t involving me.’

“Baby, I love you and all, but I think the one who acts like an old lady is you.” Hyunjin snickered and went to hug you again but you sidestepped him with a gasp.

“How dare you!?” You poked his chest in jest.

“What? Gardening, cooking and reading are your favorite activities! Those are hobbies for old ladies!”

You huffed and laid a smack to his chest, making him laugh. “You’re not supposed to be the mean one Jinnie!”

“M not mean I was just playin.” He protested with a whine and reached for you again but you held your hands out to stop him, laughing as he kept coming at you making kissy faces.

A loud ringing interrupted the moment and all of your attention was brought to the device on the counter. Felix's phone was going off and Chan's picture lit up the screen. You looked to Felix in anticipation and he offered you a smile and a nod. You didn’t hesitate to snatch the phone up and press the answer button, bringing it to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hi beautiful. What are you up to?”

“Hi Channie. I’m in the kitchen with Lixie, Jinnie and Binnie. Is everything ok?”

You heard him sigh in frustration, “Yeah it’s alright. The buyer stood me up. I’ve been waiting here for over 20 minutes past the meet up time.”

Your heart broke for him. You knew how important this deal would have been for him and the company. “Oh alpha, I’m so sorry.” You could feel that lump of anxiety in your stomach growing once more.

“It’s ok baby, other buyers will come, it's not a big deal. Anyways, I wanted to let you know I’m going to head home now and I’ll see you soon.”

That perked you right up, a bright smile finding its way across your face, looking over to the boys who gave you thumbs up. “Ok, I’m excited to have you home. I love you.”

He chuckled, “I’m excited to be home. I love you more, baby. See you soon.” With that he hung up. You could feel your claiming bite tingle when he said he loved you, your fingers absentmindedly tracing over the marred flesh of your neck. You giddily handed the device back to Felix.

“He’s on his way home.” You beamed. You grabbed some of the saplings from the counter and grabbed Binnies hand. “Come on! I wanna surprise him with the new additions when he comes home!”

“Oh can I come?” Jinnie asked with pleading eyes.

“No!” You huffed, “You called my gardening an old person hobby, so no you may not!”

Felix and Changbin cackled while the other beta jutted his plump lip out in an angry pout.

Chan could feel his patience wearing thin. He had waited at the entrance to the large vacant commercial building for far longer than he would have liked, only for the clients - who demanded to meet today- to be a no show.

He looked at his emails once more just to be sure he hadn’t received anything from the client, then ran his hand through his hair.

“Fuck this. I could have spent the day with my mate, instead I got this bullshit..” He angrily murmured, then let out a deep breath to steel himself. With a stedier mind, he pressed on Felix's contact. It rang once, twice, three times then it was picked up.

“Hello?”

It was his omega who answered the phone. Even hearing her voice calmed him down immensely. “Hi beautiful. What are you up to?”

“Hi Channie. I’m in the kitchen with Lixie, Jinnie and Binnie. Is everything ok?”

He sighed and kicked the dirt below him, trying to contain his anger. “Yeah it’s alright. The buyer stood me up. I’ve been waiting here for over 20 minutes past the meet up time.”

“Oh alpha, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok baby, other buyers will come, it's not a big deal. Anyways, I wanted to let you know I’m going to head home now and I’ll see you soon.” He reassured you, knowing how you're probably feeling. ‘My girl is so empathetic.’ It’s one of the things he loves most about you.

“Ok, I’m excited to have you home. I love you.”

“I’m excited to be home. I love you more, baby. See you soon.” He hung up the phone and shoved it in his pocket. Chan was beyond ready to be home. His thoughts were consumed with you and how he wanted to hold you when he got back.

In fact, Chan was so distracted that he didn’t pick up on the scent that was drawing closer to him until it was only feet away. His whole body went rigid when he finally caught a whiff of something foul.

‘There's another alpha next to me.’

Chan was suddenly caught in a chokehold, a muscly arm coming around him and trying to take him to the ground. Chan was able to maneuver himself out of the hold with a hard twist of his body, his hands coming up to pry the offending arm from him. He spun around to face his assailant. It was an alpha he had never seen before, but something about him felt familiar in a way Chan couldn’t explain.

“What the fuck?! Who are you?!”

The man swung on Chan, a deafening growl escaping the other alpha when Chan was able to dodge. Though Chan was not able to dodge the swift kick that was delivered to his legs, sending him down on his back. When Chan was down in a more vulnerable position the other alpha smirked down at him.

“Don’t I smell familiar to you, Chan?” The way this man sneered his name made his blood boil. Chan was able to roll away from the next attack, his own legs kicking the knee of the offender and sending him down when he tried to stomp on Chan. “Fuck, I heard you were a strong son of a bitch. You must be, to have hurt my mate.”

Chan sprung to his feet and looked at the other man. It was then that he noticed the bite mark on his neck. The gears in his head finally started to click into place. “You’re Wooyoung's alpha, aren’t you? You’re San.”

“Don’t say his fucking name, you piece of shit!” San got back up as well, then lunged for Chan, getting a hit in on his face and sending him back a few feet. Chan could feel his nose start to drip just lightly and he was growing even more pissed off. “First you piss off my pack leader, then you piss off me. Things aren’t going to end well for you.”

‘His pack leader? Who the fuck is hi-’

Chan's thoughts were cut off when another hurdling fist came at him, but this time he was more prepared, his own fist smashing into San. His mind was racing. He didn’t know what the fuck was going on but he started to piece it together.

Wooyoung- a beta- tried to nab you. He was asked to leave town a mere day later and go to an abandoned building. Now an alpha; albeit not a very bright one, was attacking him and mentioning his pack leader. Chan's heart sank in his chest and his eyes widened. This wasn’t just about revenge for what he did to Wooyoung.

This was about his omega. About you.

And this man's pack leader was Hongjoong.

Chan could feel nothing but pure rage and fear as he realized what was happening. He needed to get home to you. Now.

Chan rolled up his sleeves and hardened his gaze. San wiped the blood from his lip and could feel the intensity coming from Chan, making him gulp but continuing his attack. He pulled out a pocket knife from his pants. “No one messes with my pack. Not even a notorious little bitch like you.” San jeered.

“Sorry, I don’t have time for this. My omega is waiting for me.” Chan caught the other alpha off guard when he swiftly grabbed Sans arm before he was able to strike, and literally tossed him to the ground. Chan stomped hard on Sans hand, crushing his fingers and making him release the knife with a pained howl. Chan could feel the crunch of bone beneath his nice prada shoes and he grinned down evilly.

“I’ll kill you!” San screamed and tried to fight him, but Chan hopped on top of him and started throwing his fists into the other alpha over and over again. Chan could feel the blood starting to coat his hands but he didn’t stop. He kept hitting him until his face was unrecognizable. At some point the man under him flailed his legs up in an attempt to knock Chan away but Chan just changed up his tactics, grabbing into the man's head and starting to bash the back of his head into the ground.

“You can’t kill me when you can’t even move.” All either of them saw was red.

Chan's heart was pounding so loudly in his ears. His whole body was splattered in blood, it coated his hands and dripped from his face. Some of it was his but most of it was Sans. The man laid still on the dirty ground, a pool of red surrounding him. Chan didn’t know or care if he was still breathing; and he wasn’t going to stick around to find out.

He sprinted towards his car, throwing the door open and hopping in. His hands were nearly shaking as he tried to start the ignition. Just then his phone began to ring. He hastily dug it from his pocket, surprised the screen wasn’t cracked at the least. A number he didn’t recognize was calling him. A sick feeling inside of him told him to answer.

“Hello?” He put it to his ear and started his car.

“I gotta tell you, Chris, you’re not as smart as people make you out to be.”

Chan gripped the steering wheel tightly. “What do you want, Hongjoong? Wasn’t sicking your little pet on me enough?”

The man on the line chuckled darkly and Chan knew there was a wicked smile on his stupid face.

“Oh I think you know what I want. You stole something from me and I want it back.”

Chan grit his teeth, understanding exactly what he was talking about. “I didn’t steal anything. She never belonged to you in the first place.”

“Liar! You’re a filthy fucking thief. You took what was rightfully mine. I paid good money for that omega. Though I can’t say I’m not disappointed that it turns out she’s a dirty whore since she spreads her legs for you so easily. Still, she belongs to me and I don’t take kindly to thieves.”

Chan let out the most menacing and guttural growl he had ever released in his life.”Don’t you ever fucking talk about her like that.”

Hongjoong chuckled again. That little laugh made Chan want to gouge his eyes out of his head. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Chris. I thought we could talk this out; alpha to alpha.”

“It seems we’re way past that, since you sent your bitch after me.”

“Did you kill him?”

That wasn’t the question Chan was expecting, it almost seemed like Hongjoong cared about his pack. “Why don’t you come over here and check for yourself?”

The man on the phone hummed with disdain. “Nah, I think I’ll go check in on my omega instead. She is wearing the most delectable little sundress today, isn’t she? Mmm, absolutely scrumptious.”

Chan sped faster down the interstate, feeling the rage intensify even more. “You listen to me you shit stain -”

“No, you listen to me! I don’t accept a slight against me! I’ve killed people for less. Trust me when I say that little whore isn’t gonna be worth it when I slit your throat. And every single one of your weak little pack mates. Too bad their big strong alpha left town and left them there. Sure would be a shame if something happened.”

With that the line went dead.

“FUCK. FUCK FUCK FUUUCKKKK” Chan slammed his hands against the sterling wheel as he screamed. He knew this was no time to panic and that he had to get home as quickly as possible and he had to warn the pack. He had no idea who was home right now, but he had to try. With shaky fingers he dialed the number.

“You’re delusional.”

“No! Everyone agrees Mark Ruffalo is the best ‘Hulk’!” You protested and threw a leaf at Changbin, who only cackled when it flew directly to the ground. You were sitting kneeling in the dirt, settling in the saplings while Changbin mostly kept you company and controlled the music. Right now ‘Genie in a bottle’ by Christina Agulara has just started playing.

“Uh uh, you and I both know it’s Edward Norton.”

You huffed, “And you call me delusional.”

He patted your head as if soothing a feral dog, making you swat his hands away with a scowl.”You’re so cute when you’re all fired up, baby. Makes me wanna take you against that glass again like last time.” He smirked and laughed when you swatted him again.

“Not right now, Binnie. I wanna get this done to show Channie when he gets home.” You had to pry off the alphas wandering fingers as they started to trail down your back. You crossed your arms when he began to kiss your neck.

Changbin sighed wistfully and laid one more peck to your skin before pulling away, “Alright alright Baby, you win. I’ll let you finish your little project.”

“Thank you Binnie.” You smiled and beckoned him down so you can give him a smooch.

He kissed you again then stood up, adjusting his pants. “I think I’m gonna run in and grab a snack, since I can’t eat the delicious one right in front of me.” He side eyed you with a playful grin. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Do you need anything from inside?”

You hummed in thought, “Maybe some more lemonade please?”

“You got it.” He gave you a thumbs up and headed inside.

Changbin made his way to the house. When he opened the back door and went inside he could tell something was up. The vibe inside felt off and he caught a whiff of something that he couldn’t place his finger on. He carefully walked towards the kitchen, still not seeing anyone but the scent was starting to get stronger. The alpha turned the corner to enter and was finally able to tell exactly where the scent was coming from.

Leaning against the fridge and eating an apple, was Wooyoung. Changbin froze at the sight of the beta. Changbin took notice of the state of the man. Wooyoung's nose was dark purple and he kept a bandage over it. He also had dark marks on his neck in the shape of fingertips.

Wooyoung breathed deeply then snapped his head to face Changbin with a grin. This wasn’t his normal smile though, this time Changbin could see the villainous intentions behind it.

“Hi Bin, I’ve been waiting for you.” He took another bite of the apple, the crunch making a shiver want to go down the alphas spine.

“Wooyoung,” Changbin took a careful step towards him, eyes never leaving the man. “What are you doing here?” He kept his words low and said them slowly, trying to control the situation.

The beta gave him a cheery shrug, obviously masking the pain the expression caused him due to his broken nose. “Thought I might come see my friend. Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“Wooyoung, what are you doing here?” Changbin had demanded, finding no amusement in the situation whatsoever.

This time Wooyoung's face changed and his smile dropped. “ Let’s have a chat, like old times.”

“We have nothing to talk about. I told you to leave me alone.”

The beta took another bite from the fruit, “Come on Changbin, just hear me out. I have a proposition for ya.” That evil gleam sparkled in his eyes and he didn’t give Changbin a chance to respond before launching into it. “I -we- want you to join us. Be a part of our pack. I’ve told my head alpha all about you and he thinks you’d be a great addition.”

“Your alpha?” Wooyoung nodded enthusiastically to his inquiry. “Who is your alpha?”

“Hongjoong of course!” Changbin froze. His whole body was alight with trepidation and his eyes were wide. “He’s a great leader, you'll like him I promise. He said that since you're so strong you would do good in a strong pack- the others are mostly alphas so you’ll fit right in. Oh oh and you know the best part?!” He took another bite. Changbin could hear the manic exaggeration in his voice as he spoke, the man seemed to be unraveling mentally the more he droned on. “Joong said if you join us you can still fuck the omega whenever you want!”

“No one is putting another finger on my girl.” The words came out before changbins brain could even catch up with all the things he had said, the only thing he registered was the mention of Baby. “You’re a fucking psycho if you think any of that is going to happen.”

Suddenly there was a loud scream from the floor above them, then a thundering pound as if something huge had fallen. Changbins eyes flickered to the ceiling then back to Wooyoung, who sighed in detest at the interruption. The beta glared at him and clicked his tongue. “Wrong answer.”

The apple was forcefully thrown directly at Changbins face, the alpha yelling in pain when it made contact with his eye, the sweet juices splattering all over him. He wasn’t expecting the attack so his instincts made his hands shoot up to defend himself instead. Bin blindly reached his out to grasp at whatever he could and ended up cutting off Wooyoung's next attack by grabbing his arm that was flying at him.

Wooyoung yelped when Changbin gripped his arm forcefully and yanked the beta to him. Changbin creaked his eyes open just in time to see another fist coming at him again, so he leaned forward quickly and managed to get a headbutt in on the beta man.

The offender howled in pain when the crown of Changbins head smashed into his nose- the already broken appendage immediately starting to flow heavily. Wooyoung started to sway backwards but before he did he grabbed onto the alphas hair and forced him down to the ground with him.

Another thudding crash was heard from upstairs then the sound of running feet spreading out around the second floor. All over the house a smell of blood spread around and it made Changbins own blood begin to boil. He needed to end this now.

The alpha man threw his whole weight down on top of Wooyoung, knocking the air out of the beta. Wooyoung wheezed and was caught off guard; that's the moment Changbin took to wrap his thick bicep and forearm around Wooyoung's neck. Changbin did not let up for even a second on the pressure even as Wooyoung struggled and punched at him as he fought for air.

“Just go to sleep!” He screamed at him and tightened the hold even more, efficiently choking the man below him. Soon enough his efforts paid off and Wooyoung's body fell limp in his hold. Changbin held position for another few seconds just to be sure it wasn’t a trick, then he rolled himself off of the beta with a groan. He could see that Wooyoung was not dead but he had passed out cold from the lack of oxygen.

Changbin breathed a brief sigh of relief as he scrambled to his feet and ran for the door. This was far from over.

Your back was turned to the door of the greenhouse and your hands were busy digging another small hole for a sapling. ‘Genie in a bottle’ was still blaring through the speaker and you were humming along with the words and lightly dancing in your seat.

An alpha presence was approaching from behind and you could hear the light steps as they neared. Changbin had only been gone for about a minute so you assumed it was him. Your lips curled in a teasing smile and you called over your shoulder, “Well that was quick, don’t tell me you forgot my-”

Your words were cut off as a hand embedded itself in your hair roughly and your head was forced back. Your hands shot to your head as you yelled from the shock and the pain. Your eyes were filled with tears as your face was yanked up and around to face the attacker.

A man you recognized from your google search those few weeks ago before your escape was staring back at you with an unholy wickedness you had never encountered before. You gasped when he laughed at your obvious fear- his canine teeth were sharp and menacing as he licked over them as if tasting your fright.

“Hello there, little omega.” You hated the way he said your presentation. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“H-hongjoong?” You whimpered as he craned your neck back further to look at him. You could feel the tension of his nails on your scalp as he yanked and it made you cry harder.

“Ah,” He grinned down at you, “So you do know who I am. Perfect, that saves us some time.” He started to drag you out of the greenhouse by your hair, making you scream as you tried to pull back but it was no use and you were forced to be dragged along with him as you scrambled on your hands and knees.

“How did you find me?” You cried, your legs scraping against the hard ground and creating bloody scratches along them.

He tsked, amused by your question. “That fucking thief wasn’t as careful as he thought he was. He forgot I have connections everywhere, including the police. The second you confirmed as not missing I knew exactly where you were. Though I will say it took a little longer than I had thought it would to track you down to a point. Wooyoung is usually very good with his nose.”

You felt your heart plummet in your chest and you couldn’t breathe. It all made sense now- the incident at the carnival was worse than you thought it was. He really did try to take you away. All for this alpha.

“What’s wrong?” He asked with faux kindness, cooing condescendingly. “Aren’t you happy to see your true alpha?”

“You are not my alpha!” You screamed, bringing your hands up to try to scratch at him. “Channie is!”

Hongjoong used the grip on your hair to toss you forward into the dirt, cutting up your skin even more and dirtying your dress. He still kept his brutal hold on your head as he dragged you. “ Show some respect. I paid good money for you, you dirty fucking whore. That sorry excuse for an alpha is going to pay with his life for trying to steal what’s mine. Just like your father did for letting you escape.”

Dad is…

Your cries turned to sobs as you took in the severity of his words. Your father was dead- murdered by this man. It couldn’t be true.. It can’t be.

“You’re lying!”

He snickered at your devastation, finding enjoyment in watching you sob in both kinds of agony. He had finally gotten you through the threshold of the greenhouse. “I’m many things, dollface, but I'm no liar.”

“What you’re going to be is dead if you don’t let her go right fucking now.”

Your eyes were filled with so many tears you didn’t see who said it but you didn’t need to. You had heard the menacing threat in his voice before and it made you feel better- that you weren’t alone completely- even if the comfort was miniscule.

Hongjoong scoffed from above you, “Big words for a pathetic little beta. You’ll get yours soon enough don’t you worry, so why don’t you scurry along, hm?”

Minho's dark eyes were locked on Hongjoong, his body rigid and his fingers twitching. He was trying not to show his fear. No, he wasn't scared of Hongjoong necessarily; he was scared for you. And he was more angry than he had ever been in his life.

The betas mind was racing and so was his heart as he tried to assess the best way to handle the situation. He had been at the garage a few yards from the main house when Chan called. After receiving the call from Chan he had wasted zero time in bolting for your location, seeking you out by scent when he heard your screams and cries.

“M-min..” You cried harder, trying to crawl to him but getting yanked back forcefully by Hongjoong.

“You’re not going anywhere, bitch.” The alpha growled.

“You have three seconds to let her go.” Minho snarled, his face scrunching up as he bared his teeth in an attempt to threaten the alpha. “One..”

“You can’t do shit to me, not when I have her in my hands.” Hongjoong sounded cocky as he shook your head.

“Two..”

Minho's eyes flicked to you then Hongjoong for a split second and that was enough for you to understand. Distract him. You balled your fists and started to swing at your captor with as most force as you could muster. You small fists hit at him and you yelled through your tears and your fear. You swiped at his skin with your nails and drew blood from the alpha, making him curse.

“Stop it you fucking bitch!” He delivered a hard kick directly to your ribs and it knocked the air from you. But you would take it gladly if it meant Minho could do what he has to do. And it seemed like your distraction worked.

While Hongjoong was momentarily distracted Minho was able to close the distance and he managed to strike Hongjoong right in his head. The alpha let go of your head in his surprise and Minho immediately reached for you and pulled you to him.

“Run!” He yelled at you, “Get as far away as you can! Go!”

Minho shoved you away from the scene just in time to dodge Hongjoong who had regained his composure enough to try and grab at you again. Minho tried to tackle the alpha but the man did not go down, instead he delivered a strike to Minho's stomach and tried to throw him to the ground but the beta held on and did not let him advance towards you.

You were frozen in fear; not knowing what to do or how to help. Your body hurt and your scalp burned and your mind was racing faster than it ever had before. Just when you thought your knees were about to give out, Minho met your eyes, his own pleading and begging. Begging for you to run away from Hongjoong. From him.

You blinked through your tears and gave a small nod, then you turned and ran. Or it was more like limping away, as you clutched your side where you had been kicked.

Minho would have breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you run if it weren’t for the threat he still faced. The beta felt a hard kick to his knee as the alpha tried to get him off of him. Minho held back his grunt of pain as his knee gave out and he lowered slightly.

Minho saw opportunity at his lowered position and rammed his head into Hongjoongs sternum, his arms wrapping around the man and he used his weight to push him to the ground.

Hongjoong yelled in fury and slammed both hands into the back of Minho's head as he went down, “You son of a bitch!”

Min saw a few black spots dot his vision and his head spun, but still he remained on task. He needed to eradicate the threat. Failure was not an option- no matter how badly it hurt.

He was growling and pounding his fists into Hongjoong but the alpha was inherently stronger than him so he only managed to land two or three hard slams before he was being flipped over and his back was crashing to the dirt below.

Minho instinctually put his arms up to cover his face as Hongjoong beat down on him. Hongjoong was using his alpha pheromones to try to intimidate the beta into submission- his musk reminiscent of burnt out matches and kerosine. The beta man held his breath and flipped his elbows up to make an attack with the points of his bone.

He managed to strike the meat of Hongjoongs side, hitting hard enough to draw a howl from the man above him. He went to hit higher when he thought the alpha was taken aback but the ever vigilant alpha intercepted it and managed to turn his head quick enough to grab a hold of Minho's arm with his teeth.

Minho screamed when he felt his flesh tear as he jerked his arm back. The bite was deep and immediately began to leak warm blood all over himself. Hongjoong took this moment to spring back up to his feet.

Hongjoong was breathing heavily as he spit out the skin and blood right at Minho who was still lying on the ground. His own face was bleeding and the crazed look in his eye would be enough to send a grown man to the grave. It sent a frightened shiver down Minho's spine as he clutched his gushing arm.

The beta managed to shuffle back a few feet; trying to put distance between himself and this villainous man. He left a trail of blood in the dirt as he scrambled back. He bared his teeth at Hongjoong and it made the alpha smirk- the blood all over his face covering his lips and making him seem even scarier. Minho knew something deranged was running through the alphas mind given by the psychotic glaze that overcame his eyes.

“As fun as that was, I think it’s time to end this little scuffle.” Hongjoong reached under his jacket and pulled out a black pistol, and aimed it right at Minho.

Minho kept his expression hard and his snarl steady, not giving anything away even though his life was flashing before his eyes. From what he knew and had seen of Hongjoong, he knew the crazed man would end his life with no hesitation.

“Big bad alpha needs a gun to fight his battles, huh?” Minho spat at him, “Only a pussy brings a gun to a fist fight.”

Hongjoong scoffed, then showed that bloody grin. “I don’t need a gun to kill you, but it does make it easier when I’m in a time crunch. Sorry I can’t stick around a little longer, Minho, but I have an omega to catch.”

The alpha cocked the gun and aimed it at Minho's head. Even in the face of imminent death Minho stayed as steady as ever. The only regret he has is that he didn’t get to spend more time with the woman he loves- that he was too stubborn in the beginning and had wasted precious time with you. He would never regret the decisions leading to this moment though. He would die for you over and over again if it meant you could get away from this monster.

Just as Minho had accepted his fate, suddenly there was a scream and a deafening ‘ding’ and Hongjoongs body was sent flying towards the ground. Standing behind the alpha -that now lay in the dirt clutching his head- was you. Was his baby. His love. And you were holding a large shovel that you had used to assault Hongjoong.

With another loud scream you lifted the head of the shovel above your head and brought it down on the alpha again, bashing him forcefully with the metal using all the might in your body. Your blood was pumping harder than it ever had in your whole life. The only thing in your mind was to defend Minho from this terrible man, whatever it takes.

You kept screaming as you clobbered him from above over and over and over again. Your whole body hurt and you could barely see through your tears but you didn’t let up. You didn’t stop even as blood began to pool in the dirt and Hongjoong was no longer moving.

In fact you didn’t stop until Minho had gotten up from the ground and limped over to you, his eyes wide from the shock.

“Baby..” He grabbed the shovel before you could bring it down for a final time and pulled it from your grasp, throwing your weapon to the ground. “He’s gone, you can stop now.”

Instantly you flung yourself into him, wailing loudly and trying to get as close to him as possible. “M-min.. Y-you.. I-i.. Oh my god.”

“M’ here, baby. You’re safe, it’s ok.” He tried to sooth you and keep you from seeing the body that lay in the dirt, curling you into him despite the pain in his still bleeding arm.

“D-did I.. Did I kill him?” You were both shaking from your question and Minho didn’t know how to respond right away. “Oh my god I did, didn’t I? He -he had that gun pointed at you and I just panicked. All I felt was terror and then… I killed him. Fuck I’m gonna be sick.” You started dry heaving but Minho shook you out of your panic.

“Omega, you did what your instincts told you to do. You saved me. Even after I told you to run as far away as you could, you came back. You saved me, Y/n.” Minho felt his own tears finally falling down his face, the shock wearing off as he took in the severity of what had transpired. “I was supposed to save you and it was you who came to my rescue.”

“I couldn’t leave you here alone with him! I could feel it in my gut he would have done terrible things to you, Min. I couldn’t leave you.” Even with the blood on his face he grabbed your head and kissed you harder than ever, pushing all of his gratification and love into it. You kissed back just as fiercely and melted into him.

“I love you.” He whispered when he pulled away, closing his eyes as he held you.

“I love you Min.” You whispered back.

A horrible reminder flitted into Minho's mind at that moment. If Hongjoong was here, then that means the rest of his evil packmates probably won’t be far behind.

The pack is in danger.

He pulled back and grabbed your hand, “I have to go, the other boys might be in trouble. I need you to hide in the greenhouse. Arm yourself and try to stay hidden.” You shook your head in protest, not wanting him to leave you, but he hardened his voice, “Y/n listen to me now. This is not the time to disobey me again. Thank you for saving me, but right now I have to go save them and I can’t do that if I’m worrying about you behind my back. Please, I’m begging you, go hide and don’t come out for anyone who is not a part of our pack.”

You trembled as he handed you the shovel, not wanting to but nodding anyway. “Be safe, please Minho.”

He nodded and sent you off into the greenhouse, then he turned and hightailed it to the house.

Changbin had made his way through the house when the smell of the blood got thicker, and as he passed by the bottom of the staircase he was startled as a large body came careening down the steps, landing with a pained grunt at the bottom and his arm bent at an unnatural angle.

Changbin yelled in fright at the sight of the unfamiliar alpha and without thinking delivered a hard kick into the man, who wheezed and rolled in pain. Changbin heard the scuffle of feet descend the stairs and was ready to fight again, but instead came face to face with Seungmin- who had his old baseball bat in his hand. Changbin could see the wood and Seungmin alike were splattered with blood.

Seungmin had a borderline sadistic snarl on his lips as he greeted Changbins bewildered look, with one of his own. “What the fuck is going on?”

Changbin smacked himself out of his shock, “I think we’re under attack by the Ateez pack.”

Seungmin growled, “No shit, this is the second alpha I had to beat around. Though this one got off easier. His giant friend upstairs didn’t make it this far away from me.”

“Two made it upstairs?” Changbin asked, peering around in panic.

“No,” Seungmin smirked with an evil glint in his eyes, “It was three. The third one got his throat ripped out by Innie.”

Changbin grimaced, “Fucking gross. Who screamed?”

“Jisung screamed when he saw Jeongin tear that fuckers neck apart with his teeth.”

“Understandable.”

“Yeah it was pretty metal. That kid is feral I swear. Though Ji is traumatized now.” Seungmin checked the man on the ground and saw he was passed out cold by now, and gave him another smack with the bat with a sneer.

The matter at hand suddenly came to both of them as they looked at each other. They had the same thought and both sprinted to leave the house to find you. Both boys raced outside to come upon a different scene.

They ran out the door just in time to see another unfamiliar man - a beta this time- take a flying kick straight to the face by none other than Felix, with an extremely frightened Hyunjin cowering behind him, holding out his car keys as if they were a weapon. Both boys winced at the force with which the beta man thudded head first onto the concrete of the driveway, instantly knocking him out.

Felix was out of breath and his hands were still up as he was ready to continue to defend his elder pack mate, but he was able to put them down when he saw that it was Seungmin and Changbin who had excited the house. “I-I don’t know what’s going on. We left to get more lemonade since Ji drank it all and we came back to this dude trying to attack us.”

“He’s a member of the Ateez, there's a few more of them in the house. How the hell did you manage to take him down?” Changbin asked, coming around to check for injuries on the two betas. Hyunjin clung to him as he shook, needing alpha comfort. The two remaining boys that were inside finally came out to join everyone else, Jeongins face and neck were covered in the red liquid. Jisung clung to him in fear as he trailed behind, big eyes wet with tears as they frantically searched the surroundings.

Felix furrowed his brow, “Did you forget I did Taekwondo for twelve years?”

Yes..Yes Changbin had forgotten. Before he could respond, they all heard another pounding of feet coming their way very quickly. They all readied themselves for another attack but instead of another enemy coming around it was Minho. He was breathing hard and his whole body was covered in blood.

He halted his running when he saw most of his packmates gathered together and none of them seemed injured much (besides the few hits Changbin had taken).

“Thank god.” He breathed in relief. Minho could feel his body begin to sag to the ground, the adrenaline wearing off knowing they were here and were ok.

Seungmin had sprung forward to catch the elder beta just before he hit the ground, “Woah buddy, I got you.” He lowered him as gently as he could. As much as he didn’t want to trigger Minho he knew he needed to ask the hard questions. “Who did this to you Minho? Where is Y/n?”

Minho tried to stand, staggering to his feet as Seungmin held him up. “Hongjoong.. The-the green house..”

Every single one of them stiffened at the mention of the dangerous alpha, but none of them could fly into action as the screeching of blaring sirens rang through the surrounding woods. Seconds later a barrage of cop cars and emergency vehicles flew onto the main property, followed by the familiar sight of Chan's car.

Everything would be ok now. Their alpha was home.

Chan got out of his car faster than lightning and he sprinted over to the pack. His eyes were wild and he was drenched in that all too familiar red. He scanned each one of his members and his gaze softened only slightly when he recognized that they were all alive. Then his eyes widened again when he didn’t see his mate amongst the crowd.

“Where is she?!” He demanded, trying to pick up her presence but only getting the stink of blood everywhere around him. Chan had called the police and explained the situation to them while he sped down the roads, making it home in record time, so the officers were already fanning out and looking for the offenders.

“The greenhouse.” Minho coughed, staggering that way. “She’s hiding in the greenhouse.” Chan wanted to help his pack mate but the urge to go to you and make sure you were safe weighed on him. Minho could see it in his eyes, “Chan.. You should know what sight you're about to walk in on..”

The sirens in the distance spooked you, making you flinch and screw your eyes shut. Theoretically you knew that sirens meant police- meant help- but the irrational part of you couldn’t help but be fearful. Fearful of what had transpired right outside this greenhouse, what you had done to that man.

You clutched your makeshift weapon tighter and you scooted back as far as you could under the table when you heard the thudding of footsteps drawing close to the greenhouse. The approaching person stopped outside where the body lay and you could hear the click of teeth. You held your breath and tried not to make a single sound as the person started walking slowly into the greenhouse.

“Baby?”

Your eyes flew open at the gentle sound of your alphas voice.

“Ch-channie?” You called out weakly, slowly peering your head out from your hiding spot. You looked out to see your alpha, blood all over him and the most solemn look on his face. You crawled out of your spot and bolted for him, throwing your whole body at him and letting out the most devastating cry he had ever heard. “Alpha! Alpha m’ so sorry. M’ so sorry. I killed him. I killed him.”

“My omega, you’re alright and that’s all that matters.” He buried his face into you and felt his own tears gather at the corner of his lash line. “My brave, strong girl. I got you, omega. Alphas got you.”

“He-he hurt Min, I didn’t know what else to do. He said he killed my dad.” You kept repeating it through your cries. Chan could feel all your terror and agony through his claim and it made his heart split in two. The murder of your father was news to him and he kept his surprise hidden for your sake. He knew it would take you a long, long time to recover from this event. With a lump in his throat he scooped you up into his arms from off the ground, tucking you securely into him.

He made sure to fold your head into his neck as he walked out of the greenhouse, making sure you didn’t see the body that remained on the ground- the police would come around soon enough and deal with the mess. Though he couldn’t help the vicious curl of his lips at the body of the alpha below. ‘That’s what you get for fucking with my pack.’ He thought cynically as he passed.

He carried you all the way to the front patio of the house where the rest of the pack was getting questioned and wounds treated. Jisung was the first to see you both coming up and burst into tears, leaping off his seat and straight for you, wrapping you and Chan in his hug.

“Baby, my baby.” He cried and he held you both. “I. was. So. scared.” He choked between sobs.

You didn’t say anything as you stuck out an arm to pull him closer while being held still, not having it in you to respond right now. At the mention of you, each of the boys who weren’t being treated gathered around and you all held each other in a big group hug. The only one who couldn’t be included was Minho, for he was being patched up by an EMT by the ambulance. He bit his lip as he watched his pack together again, all safe. It made the pain he experienced worth it.

Chan lifted his head to spot the beta that was further away, both of them locking eyes as Chan got a good look at just how messed up his second in command really was. Carefully Chan handed your trembling body off to the member closest to you, which happened to be Jisung. The beta took you delicately and the rest of them continued to hold you and shower you with whispers of their love.

Each one of them could feel your sorrow and guilt as it seeped out of you in waves. Minho did his best to explain all that had transpired so they knew what you had gone through. They knew what you needed now was just for them to hold you and love you. And the hug pile allowed them to shield you from the various stretchers and body bags that were being taken from within the house.

Chan walked over to Minho and eyed the large bandage that was being wrapped around his arm. He rested his hand on the betas shoulder, and crouched down to his level. He waited there for a moment while the EMT finished their work and gave Minho care instructions. The second the EMT walked away he grabbed the beta is an encompassing hug.

Minho had seldom seen the alpha cry, but now as he held him he felt the drops of warm liquid fall into his shoulder and felt the shaking of the elders body.

“Thank you, Minho. Thank you for keeping her safe.” Min clutched harder onto his pack leader and he himself began to wail at the sentiment.

“When you called.. I ran faster than I ever had in my life.. And when I saw the hold he had on her and how she was crying…” They both growled at the thought of that fuckers dirty hands on you. “I didn’t know what to do..”

Chan nodded and wiped the tears from his own face, “ Our omega got away from him because of you. I couldn’t have chosen a better second to run my pack.” The sheriff was sauntering up the pair with an exasperated look on his face.

“Chan, the three of us need to have a conversation about what happened here today.”

You winced as the medical professional dabbed at your wounds with alcohol and disinfectant. The elder beta woman gave you looks of sympathy after each one, muttering apologies yet continuing to treat you. Hyunjin and Jisung hadn’t left your side once, they stood behind and beside you as both of them scoured the area as if expecting more impending threats. Each of the other boys were giving statements since they were the ones to directly defend themselves and the pack.

“You’re doing so well, baby. We are so so proud of you.” Hyunjin praised you with kisses to your head from behind.

Jisung nodded, “Yeah, you are the most badass woman alive. I can’t believe I get to call you ours.” He rubbed his thumb comfortingly along your knuckles.

You felt so numb you barely registered what they were saying to you, only nodding to their words and leaning further into their touch. By now you were littered with bandages to cover your knicks and scratches. Soon enough the woman bid you farewell- the boys thanked her vehemently for helping you- and you were left with just the guys.

One by one each of the pack joined you back on the porch and you all watched as the officers and emergency vehicles cleared off the property. The only remaining one was the sheriff who was still a few yards away talking with the top two in command.

You could see the sheriff clap both boys on the back before they all walked back up to where you sat. The sheriff leaned down and took his hat off as he addressed you. “I want to offer my apologies and my condolences about what has transpired. Not just here today but with your family as well.”

The tears threatened to return when what he said registered for you. “You mean.. My dad is..”

He nodded heavily, “I am so sorry, Ms.L/n. I had heard about it only this morning and didn’t get a chance to contact Chan about it.” Felix was the one to grab onto you as the sobs returned. The sheriff grimaced and hung his head, “Any information I have about it will be sent over to you pronto.” He addressed Chan.

“Thank you, we appreciate it.” The old man nodded and bid you all farewell.

For what felt like hours you all sat there together and comforted each other. Most of you were still doused in the offensive red liquid that has since dried on your skin but all that mattered is that even though you were dirty and traumatized you were there together. Your new family was together and whole and nothing- not even a psychotic alpha on a power trip- could break your new found family apart.

You awoke with gasps for air and your body covered in sweat. You leaned forward and put your head in your hands, rubbing at your eyes in an attempt to rid your mind of the spine chilling images. Another night, another nightmare. It had been three weeks since the ‘incident’. Three weeks since you murdered- no not murdered- defended Minho against Hongjoong, and every night since then you have awoken from the terrifying dreams that plagued you at night.

Chan felt you move and he stirred awake from beside you, yawning as he sat up and put his arm around you. “Bad dreams again?” He asked, his voice laced with sleep.

You nodded, and removed your hands from your face and grabbed his hand. “I can’t unsee it, Channie. No matter how hard I try I can’t get the image of Hongjoongs dead body out of my mind. And whenever I manage to let it go for a moment and go to sleep again it’s the same thing but then it’s my dads body. It’s never ending.”

He sighed wistfully and kissed your head. He knew you needed sleep since you hadn’t gotten much lately and he could tell it was weighing down on you. So after searching his brain for a solution he came up with something that he thought would help you, at least for tonight.

“I’ll be back in a second, baby. Go ahead and lay down.” You nodded again and laid back down in your spot. Chan got out of bed and quietly shuffled out of the room. After about five minutes he came back into the room, this time with another person trailing behind him. You squinted through the darkness to see who it was. “Min? What’re you doin?”

Chan got back into his spot and Minho came around to your side and motioned for you to scoot over. “I’m coming to cuddle, what does it look like?”

Ever since you and Minho had gone through that traumatic event together you had been finding comfort with him more often than you used to. It felt like now you were both more kindred spirits. Chan knew that having Min around would help you relax a little more. Tonight specifically you needed to rest; your fathers wake was tomorrow evening and you had to be up early so you could travel down to your hometown. Of course Chan would be accompanying you, along with Felix.

A few days after the ‘incident’ Chan had reached out to your family on your behalf. Your mother sobbed when he told her you were alright and not with Hongjoong. It turns out your brother was taking over as head alpha of your old pack and he planned on changing a lot of things; starting with apologizing to you for your fathers attitude towards omegas and for not intervening when you had to be sheltered away.

Your brother had invited you to your fathers memorial service and though you were apprehensive to accept the invitation Chan thought it would be good for you to reconnect with your family since he knew you had missed them so much.

You scooted over and allowed the beta to slide into bed beside you. He got in and instantly you felt more relaxed at having him here. It wasn’t that you necessarily loved Minho more than the other boys, it was more like since he almost died at the hands of a psycho you needed to have him in sight so your omega brain knew he was safe- was alive.

“Better?” The alpha asked once he was settled. You nodded and were overcome with a yawn. He chuckled and wrapped around you from the other side, sandwiching you between the two men.

“I love you, Channie. I love you Min.” You mumbled before sleep found you again, this time with no nightmares.

Welp... this is it, the end of the series. BUT this is not the full end of the story! I will be taking questions and doing little drabbles about my darling pack so please send your thoughts and questions 💕

Thank you to every single person who has read or interacted with my story i appreciate and love every one of you 🥰

Beta read by my loves @ayejaii and @jehhskz <3

©doitforbangchan 2024

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kingkatsuki · 4 months

Text

— miscommunication

Based on this silly little post I made here. With inspiration from @/oooohno💕 basically Sakura can’t fathom anyone could ever like him like that.

Pairing: Sakura Haruka x f!reader.

Warnings: none, a little angsty, Sakura is bad at feelings.

Word Count: 2.9k.

You always feared getting your heart broken someday, you just hadn’t imagined it would happen like this. Sakura had always been kind to you, ever since you’d been introduced to him through Tsubakino. It was one of the many reasons why you found yourself falling for him. It had been impossible not to, and you’d spent the majority of the time working up the courage to finally ask him out. Convinced by the fact that Tsubaki had guaranteed he would say yes.

“He’d be a fool not to like you,” He said, glancing at you through his reflection in the small compact he carried with him. Giving you a reassuring wink as he applied a fresh layer of engine red lipstick, “You won’t know unless you try.”

But maybe you were the biggest fool of all because you definitely hadn’t expected Sakura Haruka to leave you standing alone in the middle of the park wearing a pretty sundress. An excruciating pain ruminated beneath your ribcage as you tried to fight back the ache of rejection.

The first step had been the most difficult— working up the courage to ask for his number. It seemed awkward to ask for it straight up, but you also didn’t want to just get it off Tsubaki in case it crossed any unspoken boundaries. So you decided it might be easier to give him yours, writing it down onto a napkin from Kotoha’s restaurant one morning while you waited for her to pour your coffee. Before slowly sliding it across the bar to Sakura, who was shovelling omelette rice into his mouth. His pink cheeks bulged with food as he skimmed the note, looking up at you with a frown.

“If you don’t want to, it’s okay.” You smiled softly as you thanked Kotoha for the coffee, walking out through the door into the warm morning sun.

If he didn’t want to what? Sakura thought to himself as he scanned your number on the white napkin. Why did you give him your cell phone number? Sakura pondered the reasons as he continued to shovel the warm egg omelette rice into his mouth. You could want to hang out as friends, but you’d never showed any indication of wanting to do so prior. Or perhaps you were looking for protection, although that didn’t make sense when you were so close to Tsubaki who was a force to be reckoned with alone.

You didn’t need protection— so what if you’d given him your number so you could fight? It made the most sense to Sakura. It had to be why you stared at him each morning when you came in for your coffee, almost as if you were sizing him up with expectation, and today was the day you’d decided to extend the invitation. He waited until he’d finished his plate before fishing his cell phone out of his pocket to send you a text message.

Even after Kiryu had added Sakura to a Furin group chat all those years ago, Sakura was never the best at texting. He tests the words against the screen as he debates how to properly respond. Backspacing until he finally settles on a simple, yet concise answer and he hits send.

Sakura[9.49AM]: I want to.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was agreeing to, but it had to be some sort of fight. He’d never trained with you before, so it couldn’t be that. And if you were friends with Tsubaki-chan, perhaps you enjoyed fighting too.

You[9.53AM]: hi! I’m glad you texted, I wasn’t sure if you actually wanted to go or not but I’m glad you do!!! Honestly, it’s made my day :)

Sakura reread the text twice, just to make sure he understood what you meant. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go— so you were looking for a fight.

Sakura[9.55AM]: When?

He texts back, glancing at the screen as he notices the three little dots appear at the bottom to signal you are typing back.

You[9.57AM]: Meet me in the park by the swings at 7pm :)

Sakura read the text three times with a frown— 7pm. So you really did want to fight him? That would surely be the only reason you wanted to meet so late.

It felt like a shame to fight you, especially when your face is so pretty. Sakura feels his cheeks flush at the thought as he pictures that same sweet smile you give him each day when he sees you enter the restaurant to order your usual coffee to go, while he tries to hide his face in his omelette rice.

But you’re best friends with Tsubaki-chan so you must be strong, and maybe that’s the reason why you’ve chosen to fight him. And he’s never one to back down, and you’ve set the stage now so he has no choice but to agree. Sending back a single word as his fingers glide across his phone screen.

Sakura[10.00AM]: Yes.

Sakura isn’t sure how he’s supposed to prepare for this, or if he even needs to. He’s never seen you fight before, although he’s certainly seen you mad. Your soft hands balled into tight fists as you warned off a guy for getting a little too close, so close in fact that even Sakura was decidedly about to jump in— until you managed to get him to back off and leave.

Okay, maybe you were strong—

He doesn’t know anything about your fighting technique, or the way you hold yourself. Wondering whether you have a similar style to Tsubaki, and that’s why you’re so close? But he’s friends with Suo and Nirei and they don’t fight like him, so maybe that doesn’t make sense, he frowns. He’s known you for a while, and this is the first time you’ve shown any indication you want to fight, so now he’s started to overthink everything. Contemplating how he’ll be able to get the upper hand— or what spoils will be offered to the victor?

He makes sure he’s early, arriving at the park ten minutes before your scheduled fight with his hands bundled into fists inside his jacket pockets. But he’s surprised to see you already there and waiting, his roaring heartbeat catches in his throat at the sight of you as he almost forgets to breathe—

You’re sitting there waiting wearing the prettiest dress Sakura thinks he’s ever seen. A flowy sundress that hugs your curves in all the right places, embarrassed when his eyes are instantly drawn to the cleavage that spills out of the top. Your bare skin has a dull throb pounding at the back of his head as though he’d just been sucker punched as he wonders whether he’s still standing or how you’re this strong.

The moment he first saw you, he remembers a word that Suo had taught him to describe things like this— and he reckons that’s exactly what you are. Ethereal.

His cheeks burn a fiery red as he risks a glance further down, the soft material of the dress stops just above your knee as he follows the path of your legs to see your feet encased in pretty wedge sandals that strap around your ankles. There was no way you’d come to fight like this— in fact, he couldn’t fight you like this, could he?

“Hey.” You notice him staring as you stand up to walk towards him, and Sakura is certain that he won’t be able to land a single hit when the scent of your perfume surrounds him.

“W-what are you wearing?!” He shouts, despite the fact you’ve come to stand in front of him and it takes you aback.

The same insecurities begin to shroud you as they did when you were preparing to meet him. Standing in front of your full-length mirror as you tried on various outfits until you came to settle on this one, almost deciding against it at the last minute before you checked the time and noticed if you didn’t leave you might be late.

“Oh— you don’t like it, do you?” You fiddled with the strings at the front of the dress that were tied into a pretty, thin bow. Sakura’s eyes couldn’t look away as they followed the movement, noticing your pretty painted nails before he found himself staring at the hint of skin that peeked out of the top of the dress, “I knew I should’ve worn the other dress, it’s not quite as light as this one. God, I feel stupid.”

One of the thin straps was dangerously close to falling down your shoulder, and now Sakura wasn’t even sure he’d be able to land a single punch. This had to be some kind of distraction technique.

“You can’t fight in that!” Sakura raises his arm in an accusatory point, trying to stop himself from shaking and showing any signs of fear as he tries desperately to tame the fierce blush that streaked across the apples of his cheeks.

“I can’t fight in this?” Sakura despised how adorable you looked when you cocked your head to the side with your words, his heart banging like a marching band as he thought about his initial statement— maybe he was foolish for thinking you couldn’t fight in this.

When he’d watched Tsubaki fight, he’d always notice men that would get distracted from his short skirts and heeled boots— was this what you were trying to do to him now? Was this your plan all along?

“It’s—” He tries to get the words out, but it’s difficult when you look so cute, “It’s not— it isn’t—”

“It isn’t what?” You take a small step closer and the sudden movement had his fight or flight instinct kicking in as Sakura turned to run. Escaping in a hasty sprint as he left you standing alone in the park, the sun slowly falling over the horizon.

You try to ignore the ache in your chest when Sakura turns to run, wondering why he’d even bother to show up at all when he was going to reject you anyway. But then you suppose that’s one of the reasons why you even like him in the first place— he’s way too thoughtful and considerate of others. That’s probably why he didn’t want to reject you over text, and he’d come to tell you face to face.

Trying to stop the tears from falling as pearlescent droplets collect in your thick lashes to blur your vision, blinking them back you pull out your phone to rest Tsubaki. The first text sitting at the top of your phone is still your message chain with Sakura as you reread the “Yes” he’d sent you hours earlier. You were so stupid.

It’s the first fight Sakura has ever run from in his twenty-two years, and he hates himself for it. Hates that you managed to win on pure tactics alone as he makes his way back to the restaurant to find his friends.

His chest is heaving when he finally makes it through the door, knocking the wood so hard it almost flies off its hinges as wild eyes search for his friends. Thankful they seem to be the only people inside as he makes a beeline for them, his two-toned hair now windswept and pushed back from his forehead as it sticks up in all directions.

“You’re back quick?” Kiryu notes, his thumb pauses on his screen to take note of Sakura’s dishevelled appearance.

“Did she stand you up?” Nirei asks, concerned.

“No.” Sakura deadpans, still standing by the table despite there being a free seat in front of him as he leans his weight on the balls of his feet.

“You stood her up?” Kiryu locks his phone and places it down on the table as he raises a questioning brow, “That’s really not how to treat a girl, Sakura. I thought you—”

“I went there!” Sakura shouts, louder than necessary inside the small cafe as his hands ball into fists on either side of him.

“What happened?” Suo asks calmly, trying to diffuse the situation, but there’s a curious lilt to his tone.

“S-she was there.” Sakura tries to work out how to explain what happened, as his nose scrunches pensively.

“Okay? So that’s good, right?” Nirei smiles.

“She was wearing a dress!” Sakura is loud, immediately regretting his volume as the heat rising inside his body starts to become uncomfortable. Slouching down to sit beside Suo as he mumbles, “You can’t fight in a dress—”

“Girls can fight in anything,” Kiryu smiles, as Sakura looks across the table at him. So you did want to fight? “But I don’t think that’s what she had in mind.”

Oh. So if you didn’t want to fight him, then what else did you want?

“Well, where is she now?” Suo questioned, and Sakura answered for him with a sheepish look paired with a deep pink blush all the way down to his shoulders, “You left her in the park?”

“Wait— on her own?” Nirei continued, “Why would you do that?”

And somehow it sounded worse when his best friend put it like that. Sakura hadn’t left you alone, or at least he hadn’t meant to. You were there alone before he’d even got there, almost like he’d just stopped in passing. You were fine—

“She was wearing a dress!” Sakura repeated with an angry rasp to his tone.

“Sakura, you messed up.” Kiryu starts laughing playfully, shaking his head, “You’re gonna have her and Tsubaki-chan mad at you now. I can’t believe you did that to her— the poor girl.“

“What?!” Sakura baulks, “But she’s the one that text me!”

Sakura never wanted to fight you, why would he? You were far too pretty— too delicate to be subjected to that. He didn’t want to think about you fighting anyone, the thought alone had that same strange feeling bubbling in his tummy as he pictured you coming out of the fight hurt. That same seated desire inside him burning red hot at the thought— Sakura is certain he’d fight to the death to protect every single inch of you, to stop any harm from coming to you.

“What do you think it means when a girl gives you her number?” Sakura sat back beside Suo as he pondered the question.

The only phone number he had stored in his phone outside Bofurin friends and Togame from Shishitoren was Kotoha, and that was because she’d grabbed his phone the same day he’d given it to Kiryu. But Sakura didn’t mind so much because she always brought him food. But he didn’t think that’s why you’d given your number to him, was it?

“Iunno.” He mumbled gruffly, his lips curling into a pout, “That she wants to fight.”

Tsubaki-chan had texted him to spar all the time, it wouldn’t be weird to think you’d do the same.

Kiryu shot Suo a look as he gave his friend a soft smile, before trying a different approach. It was clear after knowing him for so many years, that Sakura was inexperienced in things outside the reemits of fighting.

“Have you never found a girl pretty before, Sakura-kun?” Suo asks,

“Shaddup!” Sakura snaps swiftly, already feeling a dangerous heat rise inside him— but it’s at that same moment where he really ponders the question.

Kotoha is pretty, he supposes. Thinking back to the first time he met her when she offered him a warm plate of food with a kind smile, remembering the heat that plumed inside him that followed her kindness as Sakura found himself coming back to her.

Sakura is certain he thinks Tsubaki is pretty too, although none of them seem to compare to how he feels about you. The incessant pounding of his heart against his rib cage at the mere thought of you, your saccharine perfume makes him feel dizzy and yet he hates when you’re not around so he has to remember the way it smells. The sound of your laughter causes more than just a subtle warmth inside him like Kotoha, it's more like a blazing inferno that courses through his veins like molten lava that’s impossible to extinguish. And the way you manage to fluster him without even being there— he’s constantly thinking about your face before he falls into a dreamless sleep, and waking up to wonder what you’re doing right now.

Tsubaki would probably think he’s foolish for thinking you couldn’t fight in a pretty sundress with sandals when he fights in a skirt and heels all the time. Maybe it would give you some kind of advantage, a way to get the upper hand. The sandals wedge gave you a slight height advantage sure, but would that be enough to beat him?

“Are you listening, Sakura?”

“Yeah.” He pushes his chair out with a harsh screech against the hardwood floor as he moves to leave, frantic in his search for you as he hopes you’re still standing where he left you.

#sakura haruka x reader #haruka sakura x reader #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker x you

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wileys-russo · 3 months

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Pollito / barca team ," why are you hiding in the closet" training room/ ground

in the pollito universe with stuck, tiny silver flash, the one where the kids go bowling barça femeni II in hiding

"mierda!" you mumbled under your breath, thumbs flying with gentle taps against your screen as you tried relentlessly to beat the level of candy crush you'd been stuck on all week.

you let out a small scream of surprise as the door to the equipment closet you were hiding out in swung open, flooding the dark with light and causing you to squint and rub at your eyes.

"aye pollito. why are you hiding in the closet?" patri sighed, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow and hands on hips. "i'm not. i have been out of the closet for a year now!" you grinned up at the older girl who snickered and offered you a hand up.

"no i can't, i'm having...quiet time." you faltered trying to think of an excuse which clearly didn't work on the older spaniard. "what did you do now?" pina chimed in, causing you to jump again from your spot on the floor not even having noticed her there as well.

"nothing! ale told me i'm supposed to channel my energy into resting." you rolled your eyes, this lie falling off your tongue a little smoother as both girls gave you a look, shared a look and then decided to leave you to it.

the problems started when a half an hour later you were hungry, currently skipping lunch for your little hide out as you huffed and mulled over your options.

you texted the one person who you knew would come through for you right now without question, perking up a few minutes later when there was a knock on the door and you knocked back, vicky opening it with a tray of food.

"this was so hard to sneak out." the girl sighed shaking her head, sitting down beside you where you scooted across. "compañero i owe you." you exhaled happily, the girl humming and watching in slight disgust as you shoveled in food like it could disappear at a moments notice.

"still haven't beat it?" the forward chuckled pointing to your phone on the floor where candy crush was loaded. "no!" you huffed with a glare, nodding as the girl reached for it with a raised eyebrow. "por favor be my guest!" you mumbled out between bites.

"boo!" you choked on a piece of chicken as the door swung open again, vicky smacking you on the back as it came sailing out of your mouth and landed on jana's shoe. "ew pollito!" the older girl groaned, kicking her foot and sending it flying away as bruna snickered.

"you can't hide in here forever amiga." bruna warned as you motioned for them to go away or close the door, the tiny closet suddenly becoming very cramped as they shuffled inside and sat down, knees tucked to their chest.

"not forever! i have a plan." you smacked away jana's hand where she reached for your jelly cup. "like the same plan you had not to get caught in the first place?" vicky chimed in as you frowned and shoved her, kicking bruna who tried to hide her laugh.

"that was not my fault."

"nothing is ever your fault!" jana rolled her eyes. "this really wasn't! i had a fool proof plan until that burro decided today of all days she was going to arrive early." you grumbled unhappily, all of your hard work and planning having been for nothing.

"so its her fault for ruining the plan you had to mess with her anyway? oye pollito, take some responsibility for once!" bruna sighed with a shake of her head, all four of you jumping in shock as again the door swung open and flooded with light.

"dios mío now i find you all! you left me at the table all alone pendejos." cata swore with a huff, arms crossed over her chest. "and for a secret meeting? for shame!" the goalkeeper tutted as all four of you groaned and complained there wasn't room when she closed the door and flopped down right in the middle.

"so what are we discussing?" cata asked, her knees digging into your sides as you shuffled around unable to find a reprise. "how nothing is ever pollitos fault." jana rolled her eyes again as you mocked her and tossed a carrot stick at her head, cata's hand shooting up to catch it mid air.

"not nothing! just this mornings...incident." you huffed, wincing at the obnoxious crunch of cata chomping down on the carrot right by your ear. "oh that? sí i will admit i am shocked you are still alive." cata mused with another obnoxious crunch.

"she's got the alexia shield." three voices sung out in unison as you pulled a face.

"first. thats super creepy do not all talk at the same two. second; sí she won't touch me when ale is around. but she has captains meetings all afternoon now until media which is why-"

"-you're hiding." "what did i say about all speaking at once!"

"i just have to survive another..." you paused to tap cata's watch. "...twenty minutes. then we have media and she's not going to kill me with witnesses around!" you beamed happily at your newfound plan, not missing the looks of uncertainty flashed around by your friends.

"what!" "nothing nothing, i'm sure that will work. and then tomorrow?" jana questioned as you faltered. "i pray she gets amnesia and forgets all about it?" you smiled hopefully as vicky shook her head and patted your shoulder.

"i will miss you amiga...can i have your nintendo switch?" "vicky!"

"well well well." you all jumped again as the door swung open, the face you'd been avoiding glaring down at you. "the rest of you have five seconds to haul culo out of this closet or you suffer as well." the girl warned.

"traitors!" you yelled after the four girls who fell over one another trying to run away, bruna and cata picking up vicky who tripped, carrying her away by the arms in a hurry unable to get away fast enough.

"hola mapi, did you do something new with your hair? looks very good today." you smiled as sweetly as you could manage, the defenders jaw clenching.

"purple is your colour?" you tried again with a nervous laugh, having been caught red handed with purple dye on your hands this morning after dumping it in mapi's shampoo, the girl having arrived early and caught you, but not having put two and two together until she showered after training.

"look we can talk about this we can-" you started to beg as the girl stepped inside and started to close the door. "oh sí sí sí we're going to talk pollito...but after i shave one of your eyebrows off." she grinned wickedly holding up a razor as your eyes widened.

"ALEXIA!"

#woso #woso community #mapi leon x reader #barcelona femini #barca femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #pollito

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sw6eet · 2 months

Text

TO YEARN: CHAPTER 1 | TO DESIRE

— wc: 882

— warnings: word vomit quite literally, reader being a dick and a pussy, smut, make up sex? i guess?, head + fingering (n receiving), rushed ending

— pairing: nika mühl x sue birds daughter!reader

Desire. What exactly is desire?

By definition, desire is a strong feeling of wanting to have something or wishing for something to happen.

But to Y/N Bird, desire was the feeling of waiting for something new to happen between her and her teammate Nika Mühl.

—

Ever since Nika took your virginity, you’d only been yearning for more.

You never expected yourself to be this into sex, or even women, really.

But once you laid your eyes on Nika, you knew you had to have her.

The way her calloused fingertips graced the rough material of the ball, the way her face contorted when she was concentrated, and the way she looked at you.

Everything about her had a charm of some sort, something that only added onto the already intense attraction you felt towards her.

Even if it was something small, for example, the way her accent would ever so slightly peek out when she spoke about something she was passionate about.

Which happened to be something you notice all of the time.

Especially when she was talking you through it.

—

Practice the day after it happened was more than awkward.

Trying to act like nothing between you and Nika Mühl happened was more than awkward.

Trying to act like she was just a “friend” to you was more than awkward.

But needless to say, you got through it, in.. a way.

That way was completely ignoring Nika’s existence, which included: not passing the ball to her, walking by her acting like she wasn’t there, and ignoring her in any conversation you were having with the team.

It worked, to a point, but it did raise suspicion from your teammates, who very much knew what happened between the two of you the previous night.

—

“You know avoiding her isn’t gonna make anything better,” Aubrey spoke, shoveling food into her mouth whilst doing so.

“Yeah.. But, i’d rather avoid her than have to deal with.. addressing that.” You said, looking around to make sure Nika hadn’t entered the cafeteria yet.

“You’re gonna have to sooner or later, you realize that right? Might as well do it now.” Paige shrugged, you knew she was right, but you’d rather not acknowledge that for now.

“Enough with that, she’s here,” you said, looking over at Nika who had just walked in with Ice and KK.

After seeing Nika, you got up and practically sprinted out of the cafeteria, running away, like you always do.

—

Nika was confused.

Nika thought the night you two shared was great, and her mind couldn’t comprehend why you wouldn’t have liked it, or why you would ignore her all day.

It hurt her, and bad.

The girl she desired to have, blatantly ignoring her after she took her virginity.

Like it was nothing.

—

Three soft knocks rang at your door, causing you to groan in annoyance before yelling at them to go away.

But your heart sank when you heard a soft voice speaking from the other side.

“It’s.. It’s just me. Let me in, please?”

Once you heard Nika’s voice, you sprang up from your bed, scrambling to unlock the door and let her in.

“Hi.”

“Uhh.. Come in?” You said, smiling sheepishly as you backed away from the doorframe, letting Nika walk in.

“What’s up with you today?” She asks, plopping herself on the edge of the bed while you stood in front of her.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You blatantly lie, looking down at her.

“Yes you do. You ignored me all of practice, and then when I walked in the cafeteria you practically ran out. I thought you had a good time..” She said, her words tearing at your heart as you regretted your actions almost immediately.

“Look, I know I’m an asshole for that.. But, hear me out. I just didn’t want it to be.. well.. awkward, this whole situation is awkward for me. I mean, my teammate just took my virginity and now I have to put on a show that we’re just friends, how else am I supposed to deal with that.” You rambled, guiltily looking at Nika.

“Well you’re not supposed to ignore me.” She mutters, crossing her arms and looking away from you.

“Cmon, don’t do that. I can make it up to you.”

—

“Shit, Y/N, keep going, please, please don’t stop,” Nika babbled out, your tongue swirling around her clit as two of your fingers plunged deep inside of her cunt.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” you murmured against her thigh, quickening the pace of your fingers as she mewled, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her.

“You gonna cum, baby?” You asked, looking up at her through your lashes.

“Uh huh!” She whined, her hand gripping the back of your head, pushing your face further into her cunt.

Your mouth latched around her clit, your fingers curling inside of her cunt as you pumped them in and out of her at a mind-numbing speed.

“Fuck!” Nika’s voice rang out, her back watching completely off the bed as she came, squirting all over your bed sheets.

“Did so good for me baby,” You said, coming up to kiss her.

Now, it was definitely not just a “one time thing” and you were most definitely not “just friends.”

#to yearn ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི #i2taurasi writes #nika muhl #nika mühl #nika mühl smut #nika muhl smut #nika mühl x reader #nika muhl x reader #wnba x reader #wnba smut #wbb x reader #wbb smut

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loquaciousferret · 1 year

Text

Seasons

Summary: One scene for each season of the year of your relationship as you fall in love with Joel Miller, single dad and sweet southern heartthrob.

Pairing: Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ explicit smut MINORS MUST NOT INTERACT. Discussion of religion, virginity, christian!reader, virgin!reader, old-fashioned values and gender roles/views of women. marriage, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex

Word Count: 6.5k (whoops)

A/N: If you love a slowburn then this is the fic for you, filled with adorable flirting and so-sweet-he-gives-you-toothache Joel. This idea came to me so randomly but it’s been a WIP for so long so I hope you like it!!

Spring

You let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a squeak as Joel and Tommy both picked up their cutlery ready to shovel the Sunday roast into their mouths. They hesitated at the sound and you spoke up, “I’m sorry, just, you don’t mind if I say grace, do you?”

A wide smirk spreads across Joel’s face and he raises his eyebrows at you, but puts his cutlery back down immediately. Tommy, who was frozen in place still clutching his fork which was loaded with roast chicken and gravy, received a harsh glare from Joel, leading him to put his down too.

“I’m sorry,” You said again, embarrassed that you had interrupted them.

Joel’s expression remained bemused but he responded kindly, “Hey, don’t apologise, sweetheart. You’re just always full of surprises, that’s all. Go ahead.” He gives you a reassuring smile.

You reached for Tommy’s hand with your left and Joel’s with your right and looked down towards the table, closing your eyes.

“Lord, please bless this food to our bodies and let us hold you in our hearts. We thank you for the meal and the company in which we will share it. Through christ our lord we praise you, amen.”

“Amen to that.” Tommy copied excitedly, wasting no time in getting stuck into his meal.

Joel didn’t respond to the prayer but gave you a reassuring nod, his smile still glowing. “That was lovely, darlin’.” He said, making you smile back shyly.

You got started on your own meal. You and Joel had spent the afternoon cooking together, and by together, that meant you did the cooking and he stood by and offered words of encouragement, assuring you that if he got involved he would only find some way to ruin it.

Joel’s daughter, Sarah, was out at a friend’s house all day, giving you ample time with him. He was yet to introduce you to her, given it hadn’t been long since you had met him, but you spent plenty of time with him and sometimes Tommy, too, when Sarah was otherwise occupied. Luckily for you, she was a social butterfly, and you usually got to see Joel at least one evening a week, and when you were lucky, for a full day at the weekend, like today.

It was your first Sunday with him, and it had taken quite the story to explain to your parents, grandparents, and siblings as to why you would be missing their Sunday dinner in favour of a new friend. They would most definitely be clucking like hens at their own dinner table, speculating about who might have enticed you away. In truth it had been your idea, you had been excited to do this with Joel.

You had met him in a hardware store just at the beginning of February, an old-fashioned meet-cute in which you struggled with deciphering what kind of faucet you needed to pick up for the kitchen sink in your new apartment.

“I’m sorry to bother you, sweetheart, you seem to be having some trouble there, can I lend you any knowledge?” The handsome stranger had asked politely.

His friendly demeanour as well as his expertise had led you to pick his brain in numerous aisles of the store and eventually, you bravely asked for his number. Strictly for DIY-related enquiries, of course.

But now here you were, gazing at him as he savoured the food you had cooked, and you quietly laughed along at his and his brother’s back-and-forth wit, chest bursting with affection for this gentle man whom you were growing fond of.

Summer

You fanned yourself with your magazine, sipping on a cool lemonade. Nothing was helping you to beat the suffocating Texas heat.

You watched on in amusement, perched at the edge of the lawn in Joel’s backyard as him, Tommy, and Sarah grappled with each other in a game of soccer gone wrong.

“Y’know, I don’t think soccer is supposed to be this violent.” You called out to them.

Sarah looked up at you and laughed. “These two idiots will wrestle over a game of monopoly, it doesn’t take much.”

You smiled back at her. You were so grateful at how quickly she had accepted you as Joel’s “lady friend”. You frequently caught her and Tommy wiggling their eyebrows and communicating about you and Joel behind your backs. Neither of them bought the idea that you and Joel were still just friends, but it was true.

In some ways, you had been surprised too. Joel was incredibly patient with you. Lots of guys you had dated got bored fairly quickly but Joel never rushed you and seemed happy going at your pace. You would go to dinner, take walks together, hang out with his family, but nothing more. And he respected it. As time went on, your respect for his patience grew along with your feelings for him.

Later, with Sarah in bed and Tommy having excused himself, the two of you relaxed together in the now relatively cool evening air on a wicker bench in his backyard. He nursed a beer in one hand, his other arm slung around you, and you were cuddled into his chest slightly, comfortable in his embrace.

He was pointing out constellations, but you found yourself unable to tear your eyes away from his face to look to where he was trying to guide your attention.

“Are you even listenin’ to me?” He said, smiling as he looked down at you and caught your gaze transfixed on him instead of the night sky.

You blushed and made to move away but he held you tighter into him, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You reached up to cup his jaw and looked up at him once more, connecting your lips to his. He leaned down to put his beer on the ground without breaking the kiss, the hand that was around your shoulder reaching up to become entangled in your hair, the other one holding your knee.

You continued to kiss and he deepened it gently with his tongue. At the same time, his hand drifted up your leg until it met the hem of your sundress. You jumped back as he slid his fingertips under your dress and onto your upper thigh.

“Joel, I-“

He straightened up, looking away with a heavy sigh. But when he looked back at you, he wasn’t angry. There was something else hiding in those brown eyes, you just weren’t quite sure what.

“Look, sweetheart..." He sighed. “We’ve been seeing for five months now. I just need to know, I mean…” He sighed again, he seemed to be struggling to get the words out. “I just need to know, baby. Don’t you see me like that? Don’t you want me like that?”

Your heart twinged with guilt as you met his eye again. They were filled with sadness. He thought you were rejecting him.

“Oh, Joel.” You reached out to stroke his cheek with one of your hands. “Joel, please don’t think that. I just-" You screwed your face up with embarrassment. Obviously, this moment would come. He had been so patient up to this point. You couldn’t fault him in the slightest for how respectful he was of your boundaries, never pushing you for more. And you were wracked with guilt at the thought that he had been considering this was down to him and how you felt about him.

“Oh, Joel, I- It’s.” You couldn’t help but stumble over your words. “Of course I do Joel, I do want you, more than anything, but I- I- I’m waiting, you see?”

“You’re-“ He scowled until the realisation hit and he raised his eyebrows. “Oh. You’re waiting waiting.”

“Yes.” You let out an apprehensive breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, sweetheart.” He said, putting a hand under your chin and tilting it up so you met his eye once again, his face having softened once more.

“Just means I’ll have to be the one to marry you.” There was a glint in his eye and that paralysing smirk he wore so often.

“Joel!” You scoffed, playfully hitting his chest. You wished your heart hadn’t fluttered the way it did at his joke.

Autumn Sarah skipped ahead of you excitedly, you and Joel followed, walking hand in hand down the meadow path.

You had all piled into the truck that afternoon and you had directed Joel to this location, somewhere you had visited ever since childhood to pick apples during harvest season.

“Look! I’ve found them!” Sarah was quite literally jumping with joy, pointing up at the first tree you had come across which was bearing fruit.

“Good job, honey.” Joel said as you both caught up to her.

She was hopping up but failing to reach the fruit even on the lowest boughs of the tree. Joel stepped in at that point. “Here, let me get you a leg up.” He offered.

He held out both his hands for her to stand on as a platform, grunting with exertion as he hoisted her up. She then clung to his shoulders tightly with one arm around his neck, stretching out with her other hand to reach out for the fruit.

She picked them successfully and dropped them into the basket you held out for her.

After gathering nearly a dozen, she leaped down and inspected her findings, picking out each one individually to admire them and compare their sizes.

“Have you ever had real apple pie before? Like this? With the fresh apples and everything?” You asked her.

“Nope, first time!” She responded excitedly. “I’m so hungry for it already. I hope it doesn’t take long to bake.”

“Well, it does take a while, honey. Baking is a labour of love,” You explained to her kindly as you walked back to the truck alongside each other, Joel a few paces behind. “The more time and patience you put into things, the better the end pay-off.”

Joel chuckled lightly behind you and you whipped round to look at him over your shoulder.

“What?” You laughed.

“Nothin’.” He said, smiling back at you. “Very wise life philosophy you got there, that’s all.”

You screwed your face up at him playfully. Trust Joel to turn your simple lesson into a different one entirely.

Back at Joel’s home, you taught Sarah how to soften the apples in butter, sugar, and cinnamon, filling the kitchen and most of the downstairs with that delicious combination of scents.

Next, you made the pastry by hand, patiently guiding her on how to knead the dough, and how to tell when to stop at the right consistency and not spoil it by over-kneading. She listened carefully and copied you, she was a quick learner.

Joel watched you both, filled with adoration at the scene in front of him. Your patience and kindness towards Sarah was a huge factor in how hard he was falling for you. You were only a little more than a decade older than her, but your maternal behaviours towards her seemed to come totally natural to you.

You were exactly the presence Sarah needed in her life. You were an absolute blessing for the pair of them.

He smiled and shook his head at his own thoughts. A blessing. Your way of thinking was rubbing off on him.

Sarah left to bathe and get ready for bed while you finished constructing the pie, the oven preheating. Joel continued to watch from his seat at the breakfast bar.

“You do so well with her.” He remarked.

“Oh.” You responded, slightly surprised. You had nearly forgotten he was there with how quietly he had observed the activity.

You didn’t turn to face him, not wanting him to notice the blush creeping into your cheeks.

“Thank you, Joel.” You said sincerely after having gathered your thoughts. “I’ve always loved kids. I think it just comes naturally to me.”

“Yeah?” He said, pleased with your response.

“It’s like I was born to be a mother.” You chuckled a little. It was something you had been told throughout your life. You had always enjoyed being with your aunts, helping with the babies, moreso than playing outside or doing things with your cousins and friends of your own age.

He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. This happened all the time, you took the thoughts right out of his head and spoke them into reality. You were perfect for him in every sense, he had known this for a while now but you strengthened his belief in the fact every single day. Joel knew he was madly in love with you, a deep connection he had never felt towards anyone else. And he had your morals to thank. The lack of physical relationship meant that you had spent months building on a genuine friendship and emotional connection, one that stood on its own without the need for sexual attraction. Not that he didn’t have that for you in spades.

All his previous relationships had been built on something physical, an initial attraction that was acted on and developed into more. Not you. His fondness of you was not based on that. That’s not to say he didn’t constantly want more as you kissed him, not that he didn’t think of you in his intimate moments, or sometimes needed to excuse himself when he got a glimpse of your upper thighs or even a panty line under your sundress if you reached up on tiptoe to grab something or climbed up the steps ahead of him. You had him like a touch-starved schoolboy, every single glimpse of your flesh was like a jolt of electricity inside him.

It had been nearly 8 months since you met and you had changed his and Sarah’s lives already, bringing laughter and sunshine back into their home. He had even met your family, too, at a barbecue towards the end of summer. He had had to hold in a laugh at their old-fashioned ways when they referred to him as the man you were 'courting'. But they accepted him, approved of him despite him being 10 years your senior, a divorced single dad. They didn’t judge him and they could see how happy you made each other.

The other day, he had lied about needing to head to the store and you stayed and watched Sarah. It had been a relief when he had went to your father’s house, and he had said yes so quickly to Joel’s request for your hand in marriage.

Winter

Austin saw it’s first measurable snowfall in a couple of years. You three, Tommy, and the new dog you and Sarah had convinced Joel to adopt for Christmas, were out walking near a cabin you had rented together for some of the holidays.

You all had red cheeks and your breaths were visible, coming out as mist in the cold air. It was the one of the coldest winters in a while, with the temperature barely hitting the 40s each day.

When you got back to the cabin, you, Sarah, and Tommy fought over who would get to shower first for warmth. You ended up placing second in the queue, behind her and before him, which you were satisfied with. There were 3 bedrooms but only one bathroom in the cabin, leading to almost daily arguments between the brothers and Sarah, most of which you simply observed in amusement.

“Come ‘ere.” Joel said, beckoning you to join him in the lounge. “Fire’s just gettin’ started. I’ll keep you warm until it’s your turn.”

You smiled and joined him, shedding a few layers of clothing to dry off and warm up by the fire.

He rubbed your arms and legs roughly, generating heat from the friction. It tickled and you pushed him away. He lost his balance and fell backwards.

“You tryna kill me?” He laughs. “There’s a fire behind me.”

You smiled at him. He was mesmerised by you, with your rosy cheeks and your eyes illuminated, reflecting the flickering of the log fire.

He had wanted to wait for the perfect moment, and propose to you like a scene out of those terrible romance movies you love so much. But it was times like this that moved his heart, the simple every day moments you shared that reminded him why he was so madly in love with you.

And so he couldn’t help himself, he shifted so he was on one knee between your legs.

“What are you doin’?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing in curiosity.

“Quiet, alright, let me focus.” There was nothing impatient in how he responded, if anything, he only sounded nervous. That intrigued you more.

You smile at him and he loses all train of thought again taking in your expression.

“Sweetheart.” He starts, his voice cracking slightly. You had rarely seen Joel nervous or flustered but this had to be it. “I wanted to make this more special but I… I can’t wait any longer.”

You have to physically stop your jaw dropping in shock as Joel pulls a small box out of the pocket of his large winter jacket, his hands trembling slightly. Your heart races as you realise what is happening.

“Sweetheart, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I ask myself every day what I did to deserve you to come into me and Sarah’s life. You make me so happy every single day. I- I know we’ve not been together long but I know already I can’t see a future without you by my side. I- We- We want you to join our family. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

Tears well in your eyes as you look down at Joel, waiting nervously for your answer. You had only been together 9 months but he was everything you had dreamed in a partner, kind, caring, supportive, always making you laugh. He was the most important person in your life despite the short time you had shared.

“Yes, Joel.” Your voice was barely a whisper.

He exhaled deeply in relief.

“Yes, I want nothing more than to marry you.”

He pulled you into a tight embrace and you laughed, pushing him away, “Aren’t you gonna put that on my finger first?”

He pulled back, blushing, taking your outstretched hand and sliding the elegant ring onto your finger. “Yes, darlin’ I’m sorry- I-“ He cut himself off, pulling you close to him and pressing a kiss to your head.

This was the happiest moment of your life.

Neither of you knew Tommy was in the hallway and had listened to the whole thing. “Finally.” He muttered with a wide smile on his face.

Spring

You married exactly a year to the day that you met (Joel’s idea) in your parish church with your close friends and family watching. Your sister, your childhood best friend, and of course Sarah made up your bridesmaids. Tommy was Joel’s best man.

You wore a simple white dress with a lace bodice and sleeves, complimenting your figure, cinching at the waist and stretching around your hips.

The wedding was simple, as was the dinner and reception. Flashy wasn’t you and Joel’s style.

As the night wore on and the guests mingled, you finally felt yourself relax. You weren’t a big drinker but today was your wedding day and you had been constantly plied with champagne by your friends and family.

“Hey Mrs Miller!” Tommy approached you from the side. “Will you give me a dance?”

You look to Joel, who squeezed your hand and smiled. “Off you go.” He said.

You laughed and took Tommy’s outstretched hand as he led you to the dance floor. The music was relatively upbeat and he was twirling you, you giggled, trying not to trip up on your dress or your heels.

“I would say welcome to the family, but it feels like you became an important part of it a long time ago.” He says when the music calms down and he takes you closer to him for a slower dance. “Joel is one lucky man, and I’m lucky to have you for a sister-in-law now too.”

You didn’t respond, taking in his sincere words. You were absolutely grateful for the extended family Joel had brought into your life. And Tommy was right, they had welcomed you with open arms and made you feel like you belonged from the very beginning.

“He’s never been happier. Sarah too. Thank you for that.” He goes on.

“They’re everything to me.” You say simply.

He nods in understanding. As the song draws to a close he pulls you in for a tight hug.

“Congratulations, sweetheart.”

“No getting rid of me now.” You say back cheekily, and he laughs as he guides you back to where Joel is mingling with guests.

Joel sees the two of you approaching and smiles warmly, reaching out to pull you close to him and planting a quick kiss on your cheek.

“Having fun, Mrs Miller?” He says, his eyes twinkling. He hasn’t called you by your name all day. He likes this new one.

“Certainly. Tommy’s keeping me entertained.”

“Yeah he’s good at that, ain’t he?” Joel teases, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

Tommy holds his hands up in defence, “Hey! That’s your wife.”

“Damn right it is.” He responds, squeezing your hip. You blush as he holds you close to him. He is always affectionate, but today you have felt more loved and cherished than any day of your life.

You catch Sarah’s eye. She is watching you fondly from a nearby table where she sits with a small group of her friends and some of your cousins who are about her age.

You smile warmly and offer her a thumbs up. She smiles back. You are grateful for the bond you have with her and the support you have both shown each other throughout your relationship with Joel.

The rest of the night passes in a blur of happiness, laughter, and love. More champagne is consumed, and some cake. Sarah was involved in baking it for you with help from a professional. As the night draws to a close, you begin to feel nervous, knowing what is to come when you and Joel retire to your honeymoon suite shortly.

“I can’t believe we’re married.” He whispers into your hair.

“Me too. But it feels like everything I ever imagined.”

Joel nodded, rubbing circles into your back with his large palm. “More than I ever imagined.” He responds.

He kept you in a tight embrace. You can hardly believe that a year ago you didn’t know this wonderful man existed, and now you are a married couple. He pulls back from you, a tender expression on his features. “Are you ready to go to bed?”

You know this question is loaded with the implication of another. Although you feel nerves rising in your chest, there’s another part of you that is thrilled and excited to experience this entirely new element of your relationship with Joel.

You nod, and he doesn’t hesitate to take your hand and lead you out of the hall. Many guests have left and you bid farewell to the others on the way out.

He leads you hand in hand to your hotel suite. The room is dimly lit, with soft music playing. There is another bottle of champagne on the dressing table- not that you need any more.

You turn to Joel, feeling nervous, which he can sense easily. He approaches you carefully, removing his suit jacket and tossing it over an armchair in the corner, loosening his tie and removing the top button of his shirt.

He looks so incredibly handsome and you think that it is intensified by the knowledge that you are looking at your husband.

He cups your face in his hands, “I love you, sweetheart. I’m so glad you’re my wife.”

He leans in and kisses you. It leaves you breathless and exhilarated, knowing that for the first time, this kiss will lead to more. Your body melts into his, you wrap your hands around his neck and lose yourself in the moment, his warmth and his rich scent enveloping you and making you feel safe and comfortable.

He pulls away eventually and rests his hands on your hips. “I know we’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time- Well, I certainly have.” His voice is laced with emotion. “But we don’t have to rush anything. We’ll take it slow, enjoy every moment of getting to know each other like this.”

You nod, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. You were nervous about messing things up or disappointing Joel, but he was patient and understanding as always.

“Thank you.” Your voice comes out as barely a whisper.

Joel leans in for another kiss and you melt into his embrace once again. He restrains his lust and passion and tries to make every touch a demonstration of his love and commitment to you.

He begins to unlace the delicate back of your dress and pulls it from your shoulders. Your neck is exposed, then your collarbones, then your chest, clad in your special bridal lingerie.

He lets out a sigh as he takes in the sight of you. He had seen your body before, at the beach, but now when he looked at you it was accompanied by an entirely different feeling. You were going to be his for the rest of your lives, all of you, all of this, was his. Forever. It was nearly overwhelming.

He leans down, pressing a trail of soft open-mouthed kisses to your neck and down your exposed chest. He continues to pull down your dress gently as he goes, until it has slipped off of you entirely. He retreats to carefully lay it out on the sofa in the corner. He approaches the bed again and begins to remove his own clothing, unbuttoning his shirt painstakingly slowly as you watched him in anticipation. You take him in, admiring the way his muscles ripple as he moves, his honey skin, and the dark hair scattered over his stomach and chest. He was the image of beauty to you. His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you feel as though you were the only woman in the world, the only one he had ever wanted.

He steps towards you and climbs onto the bed, holding himself up with one strong forearm and kissing you. The feeling of his bare skin against yours sent waves of desire through your body.

His hands explored you, softly roaming over every curve and contour of your figure, giving every inch of you attention with his lips or hands. As he does so, you feel your body responding to his touch. Your skin grows more and more sensitive to his every movement. You moan softly as his hands glide over the thin fabric of your bra, your nipples hardening in reaction to his teasingly light touch.

He whispers in your ear, a low and husky tone to his voice that you haven’t heard before, “I want you, I want to make you mine forever.”

You shiver at his words, a rush of desire shooting through you. You pull him tighter to you in an embrace and you feel the hard length of him pressing into your stomach. It adds to your excitement.

He kisses you once more on the lips, his tongue exploring your mouth. You taste whiskey and wedding cake frosting. A combination of strong and sweet, like Joel. Then he lifts your back from the bed slightly, his attention on your bra clasp which he removes with practiced ease and tosses it aside. He leans down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and licking and sucking gently. You gasp at the sensation and feel yourself clenching your thighs involuntarily, desire coursing through you.

He moves down your body, one hand continues to touch your breasts and he trails kisses down your stomach. When he reaches the waistband of your panties, he looks up at you, questioningly. You nod at him, nervousness and excitement fighting for priority in your body and mind.

He pulls them off slowly, savouring the moment. You feel exposed and vulnerable, but the sight of his hungry gaze as he takes in your naked form turns you on.

You feel his hard length pressing into you again and you are silently grateful that he keeps his promise, taking you through this slowly, even though you know he wants you desperately.

“You trust me, darlin’?” He says, breathlessly.

“Yes, Joel.” You respond, anticipating what might be coming.

“Let me take care of you, alright?” He says, his fingers massaging at your inner thighs.

You just nod, and with that he slides his hands higher and his fingers enter your folds, which are already wet with your want for him. You gasp at the sensation, shocked at how his large rough hands are even capable of such gentle touches.

He rubs at you softly, circular motions around your clit snd then down to your hole, barely dipping in a fingertip before withdrawing it again and dragging wetness back up to your clit. You adjust to the sensation quickly and crave more, to intensify the feeling he is giving you.

You buck your hips upwards, letting your thoughts be known to him. He laughs lightly. “Be patient.”

You whine.

He inserts a finger all the way inside you and you gasp at the feeling. Of course you have done this alone but the feeling of his large masculine hands with long, thick, fingers, is a new sensation entirely.

He moves it inside you, slowly, his other hand holding you at your hip. His touches are gentle and restrained yet firm and deliberate. Small moans of pleasure escape you.

His finger then curls inside of you and hits a spot that makes you arch in pleasure, moaning more loudly. Your hands reach out to grab him by the shoulders. He grins and curls his finger again, pressing against that spot faster and with more intensity. You feel your body start to tighten, your limbs tensing up instinctively. The pleasure builds inside of you until it is almost too much to bear.

Just when you think you couldn’t take it anymore, he removes the finger. It is trailed by a large amount of your wetness. He does something unexpected then, bringing it up to his mouth and sucking on it. The sight feels inappropriate and you look away from him, blushing.

He takes the finger, now wet with saliva and inserts it inside you again, this time accompanied by another. The stretch is numbed by the pleasure he gives you. He pumps them in and out of you slowly, curling and scissoring inside of you. He plays a game of attempting to elicit the sweetest sounds from you.

He brings his thumb to your clit simultaneously and gently rubs it. It makes you bite your lip to stop you from crying out.

“Let it out, sweetheart.” He instructs. “Don’t hold back from me.”

“Joell-“ You whine. “Ah!”

Your volume encourages him and he continues, a steady rhythmic pace applied to both the fingers working you from the inside and the one giving attention to your clit.

You feel the same knot of pleasure from before building.

You find confidence and become more vocal, “Please don’t stop Joel!” You plead.

“Are you gonna come, baby?” He asks in a deep tone.

“I think so.” You squeak. “Fee- Feels so good J-Joel, plea-“ You cut yourself off with a moan.

Heat gathers in every corner of your body and as Joel maintains his consistent pace, you reach closer and closer to a release of this tension inside you.

Finally it snaps, and you cry out. The pleasure is overwhelming, your heart races and you pant, breathless, as the feeling courses through every inch of you. You feel yourself collapse further into the bed, weakened by the experience.

He removes his fingers from inside you but keeps gently rubbing your clit as you twitch and shiver underneath him. Eventually he stops that too, and kisses you deeply. You come back down from your high slowly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, barely pulling away from you. His lips tickle yours as he speaks.

You feel a rush of affection towards him, still dazed from your orgasm. Your already flushed cheeks seem to grow even more warm under the weight of his intense gaze and his compliments. As you catch your breath, he continues to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, words of adoration spilling from his whiskey-loosened tongue.

“My girl forever aren’t you?” He whispers. You nod, keening towards his touch as he brings his hand to your core once again, the sensitivity of your orgasm finally worn off.

“My beautiful girl.”

You think he is talking to himself more so than you.

He shifts his weight, lowering himself further down the bed and positioning himself between your legs. You watch him, unsure what he is going to do next. He parts your thighs widely and lowers himself between them. He kisses and licks at your inner thighs, his hot breathe on your skin piques your arousal.

His mouth moves higher and higher, until his tongue licks a wide stripe through your folds. You immediately gasp.

He continues licking and sucking, his stubble grazing at your inner thighs, a sensation that burns, but not unpleasantly. He is bringing the peak of your pleasure quickly, and you feel the hot tension gathering within you. Your hands reach down to tangle in his curls, which are slightly dishevelled from the busy day. You tug on his hair lightly and he groans against your pussy, a sensation that sends shivers through you.

He continues to work you with his mouth, sucking at your clit and then moving all the way down to penetrate your entrance with his tongue, then dragging it back up and starting again. It is messy and raw and more intensely pleasurable than you could have ever imagined. Your wave of pleasure is about to crash down, and you cry out in warning.

“Joel I’m going to- Ah!” He doesn’t let you finish your sentence, cutting you off into a moan as he increases the pressure of the suction on your clit, alternating with flicking his tongue against it rapidly, pushing you over the edge.

You cry out his name and unravel beneath him, your body shaking with an orgasm far more intense than the first. He continues to lick and suck gently, tasting all of your juices. Not quite taking you into overstimulation, just easing you through as the waves of pleasure subside before pulling away. He slowly makes his way back up your body. When he reaches your lips, he kisses you deeply, and his tongue tastes of your essence.

“I love you.” He whispers against your lips. “You’re perfect.”

Finally, he straightens up, pulling away and removing his boxers. Your eyes widen as you take in the size of his erection.

He notices your reaction. “This ok, darlin’?” He asks calmly.

You nod, still nervous, which he can see from how you bite your lip. He crawls back onto the bed and positions himself between your legs.

“I’ll go as slow as I can baby, if it hurts you tell me, ok?”

You nod.

“Say it, sweetheart.”

“I’ll tell you Joel, I promise.”

“Good.” He says.

He leans down and captures your lips in a kiss. One hand holds him up, the other is guiding his hard length to your entrance. You take a deep breath, trying to relax, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. He slowly begins to push himself into you. You both gasp at that first sensation.

You feel a painful stretch, but it quickly fades as he stops with just the tip inserted in you, giving you time to adjust. He plants kisses all over your face and whispers words of praise and reassurance as he continues to edge into you again.

Finally, he is fully inside of you, and he stops, looking down at you with a caring expression. “This OK, sweetheart?” He asks softly, stroking your hair with his free hand.

You nod.

He begins to move slowly, in and out in a gentle rhythm. You moan softly every time he is fully deep inside you, hitting pleasure spots inside your walls. As time goes on he picks up the pace gradually and thrusts slightly harder, analysing every sound and expression of yours to ensure you remain comfortable.

You feel an urge to wrap your legs around his waist, wanting to feel him even deeper. He grunts in pleasure as you do so. Your connection to him is intense and overwhelming, physically full of him and giving yourself to him in every way.

Next he brings a hand to your clit and his thumb rubs at it gently like before. You feel that this makes your pussy clench around him. He grunts every time it does so.

“Oh, Joel.” You gasp.

He takes your gasp as a cue to increase the pace, and soon he is pounding into you with a steady, rhythmic force. You feel that knot of pleasure building in your core, and you know you won't be able to hold back a release much longer.

Joel's movements become more urgent, and his hand on your clit works faster. Your moans and gasps grow louder, and you feel like you're about to come apart at the seams.

"Come for me, baby," Joel growls, his breath hot against your neck. "I want to feel you come around me."

His words are all you need, and with a cry, you fall over the edge. Waves of pleasure crash over you, and you clench around him tightly as you ride out your orgasm.

As you come down from your high, Joel’s pace is faltering, and with a grunt of your name, you feel him tense up and a hot release spills into you. He collapses a little on top of you and you can’t help but laugh as he knocks the air out of your lungs, crushing you, his body shaking with exertion. He slides his hands under you and squeezes you into him.

You both lay there in silence, trying to catch your breath and ground yourselves from the pleasure you had both experienced. The gentle music continues to play in the background and other than that the only sounds that can be heard are the rise and fall of your breath and an occasional contented sigh from Joel.

Eventually he pulls out from inside you and rolls off of you, pulling you close to his side. You snuggle into his chest, feeling safe and loved in his embrace.

“Was I as good as you imagined? Didn't let you down?” He teases gently.

“Even better than I could have imagined.” You admit. “Can we do it again?” You say.

He laughs and kisses your head. “Of course, Mrs Miller. As much as you like.” He says, running his hand through your hair.

You both lay there, enjoying the peaceful afterglow of your lovemaking. You drift to sleep, ready to wake up for the first day of the rest of your life as Joel’s wife.

Read more pre-outbreak Joel smut in Country Lovin’

Find my entire masterlist of Pedro Pascal characters here

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ellestinyposts · 11 months

Text

I won.

Newt x Reader (TMZ)

summary - Newt and you had a argument, and now he's ignoring you.

The sun was beating hard on your skin and sweat trailed down your forehead. You stopped digging the soil with your shovel and look up, scanning around the glade for a certain blonde haired boy.

Newt.

Your eyes finally catch sight of him, his blonde sandy hair ruffled as the sun beamed at his hair, making his hair shine like gold and his shirt covered in mud.

He stood alone, picking some strawberries. You could tell from the way he pick the strawberries that he was still upset about the argument you had earlier.

You decided to take the opportunity to speak to him privately, away from the Gladers.

You put your shovel down, ditching your gardening duties and walk to Newt's direction.

As you approach him, he glances to see who it is, once he realizes it's you, he stops and turns himself around and stared at you long in the eyes.

he broke eye contact without a word as he looks at you up and down with his dark chocolate brown eyes which longed to be with you again.

He returns his gaze back to the strawberries and wipes his sweat of his forehead with his hand, not saying anything to you as if you weren't there.

"Feeling a little hot, Newt?"

You say jokingly and lean your back on the tree less than a meter away from him. He tries his best to concentrate on picking the strawberries.

"I'll shower later" he answered.

He kept his gaze at the ground, not wanting to look at you.

still sulking.

"can i help?" you asked him

instead of answering your question, he accidentally picked the strawberries too hard, making the stems break and fall.

You knew he would give up if you keep on doing this a little more.

so you did. you take a few steps closer to him.

Newt side glance at you a few times, watching every of your movement and clenches his jaw, resisting the longing feeling, wanting to talk to you, kiss you and touch you which weighed heavy on his shoulders.

"why don't you take a break? you've been picking strawberries all day" you try to reason out.

"No, Frypan wants the strawberries ready today to make strawberries jam"

"I'm sure the strawberries can wait for a little newtie" You say encouraging him.

He stops picking the strawberries and sighed. Newt finally answered your question, pretending to sound uninterested.

"y/n, please not now, I'm busy" looking at you with his deep brown eyes.

but you ignore him and walked closer to him until he can feel your breathe on him.

Your hand snakes it's way to his shoulder and you pulled him closer to you, and whispered in his ear.

"please newt, i want to talk to you" you both looked into each other's eyes, holding eye contact.

his eyes widened and he swallowed hard as he broke eye contact, refusing to look you in the eye.

Silence hanged in the air and for the first time in minutes he had made eye contact with you again.

His face was so stern for the next few seconds and then he suddenly sighed.

he finally gave in.

"You're right, the strawberries can wait" He smiled a little at you as he brush his thumb to your cheek and pulled you closer to him.

what happened next was a blur, he was on you in a second. Lips connected with yours as he backed you up into the tree you were leaning on earlier.

You had won.

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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months

Text

Birthday II

Hardersson x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: It's your first birthday

Morsa is living in the phone again.

She's a lot smaller when she lives in the phone than when she lives with you and Momma. You think that's kind of weird but there's some cake sitting in front of you so you don't dwell on it for too long.

Today is a special day apparently.

Today is the day that Morsa is supposed to be visiting. It's your birthday too but you're more focused on the first thing rather than the fact that you're getting older now.

Morsa is meant to be coming today but she isn't here yet and now she's stuck in the phone again.

"And here's the birthday girl," Momma says to her," She's about to enjoy her cake."

You look down at your slice of cake. You don't get given cake a lot, especially not fancy cake that has writing and pictures on the top. You don't really care about the stuff on top but you know the cake is fancy because it's there.

You grab a chunk of cake in your fist and raised it to your mouth.

It tastes really nice and you grab more.

"Birthday girl looks very happy," Morsa comments," Is that right? Are you enjoying your cake, princesse?"

You grunt as you shove cake into your mouth.

"She's very much enjoying it," Momma agrees," Birthday girl got spoiled a lot today."

"I'm glad. I'm sorry I couldn't be there."

A match late last evening had Magda unable to fly out yesterday night. She'd booked an early morning flight today, hoping that it meant she could still spend your first birthday with you without missing much.

But she'd gotten to the airport and found her plane delayed. There was no eta and it kept getting pushed back further and further to the point where Magda has to spend your birthday on the phone rather than in person.

The presents in her carry-on feel like weights as she watches you shovel more and more cake into your mouth until your plate is empty.

You're sitting up in your high chair with a beaming smile in a tiny Wolfsburg kit that Magda knows was given as a present to you. A big birthday badge is clipped to the jersey and a discarded birthday hat is sat on the tray next to your now empty cake plate.

It makes her heart ache thinking about how much of this she's missing.

It's just not the same seeing it all through a phone screen.

"My flight should be taking off in a few hours," She tells Pernille as you entertain yourself by picking up the birthday hat and shaking it," I'll probably get to yours around midnight."

She can't see Pernille with the camera on you but Magda's sure she's frowning.

"We can pick you up from the airport," She says," You don't need to get here on your own."

"It'll be too late for Princesse. She still needs sleep."

"Are you sure? I don't mind. She'll fall asleep in the car anyway."

"I'm sure," Magda insists," It's fine. I've got keys. I'll let myself in."

You drop the birthday hat and pout.

"Oh," Pernille chuckles," What's with the long face, princesse? Did you drop your hat?"

You kick your legs impatiently and point at it, whining. You look like you're about to whine more but Pernille places another slice of cake in front of you and suddenly you're distracted again.

You cram as much cake possible into your mouth, smearing your face with crumbs.

The cake is nice but you do feel a little bit cheated. Momma woke you up this morning saying that Morsa would be here to celebrate with you both but it's rapidly approaching bath and bedtime and she's nowhere to be seen.

That's a little mean of her.

It's even meaner of Momma to put you down in your crib and make you sleep before Morsa got here. They're both quite mean today even though it's your birthday and people should be nice to you when it's your birthday.

You wake up the next day ready to let your displeasure at being lied to known to Momma when she comes to grab you.

You don't get the chance to though because someone lifts you out of your crib with a smile and a soft voice.

"What's with the pouty face?" Morsa coos," Is being a one year old really that bad?"

For a moment, in your sleepy haze, you don't recognise her, a big pout and a grumpy look upon your features. Slowly, you blink awake fully and your pout morphs into a big happy smile.

"There she is," Morsa says," There's my happy baby! Look at you, my happy little one year old."

Your legs kick out as Morsa presses soft, ticklish kisses all over your face.

"I'm sorry I missed your birthday, princesse but I brought presents!"

You know that word. After yesterday, you've decided that you really like presents.

You hope Morsa's brought you some good ones.

You giggle.

"Yeah?" Morsa says," You like that? I've got lots of presents for you to open!"

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

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sophiethewitch1 · 6 months

Text

What We Want - Chpt. 6 - Round Two. Fight!

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

Damn. Your indulgent TV stalking of the Wayne’s really doesn’t hit the same once you technically knew them. And you were hiding inside one of their bedrooms, inside one of their clothes, using their TV subscription. It just didn’t feel right. Morally, of course, but that wasn’t what you were talking about. No, you were just pissy your favourite pastime was basically ruined. You shovel another spoonful of cookie dough ice cream into your mouth, glaring through tired eyes at the screen.

There’s an up-close shot of Dick Grayson’s abs. The presenter ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ over his physical form, and you have to agree. You wish you had abs like that. Unfortunately, you did respond to most unwanted experiences with stress eating. As always with these celebrity figures, you can’t really tell if you want to be Dick or be with Dick. Your butt is nowhere near the level his is at.

While you hadn’t really set out today looking for shirtless pictures of the Waynes, it wasn’t like you were going to say no to them. So, when the gossip channel had switched from the reactions of the Waynes to last night’s fiasco to… this… you’d just kept watching.

You wonder if you should stop doing this. It’s definitely kind of creepy, and now you’d technically once been his… step-sister. What a mind fuck. You’ve been crushing on these dudes for a while, and now they were your ex-step siblings. This was like the start of a bad porno, but you knew you were not that lucky. And it wasn’t like you were going to start thinking of him as a brother any time soon. You hadn’t even met the guy. No, he was still firmly in the ‘celebrity crush’ section of your mind. Pretty and untouchable. The way things are supposed to be.

Which was also bad because you would probably have to meet and interact with him at some point. Probably in the near future. God knows you’d absolutely humiliated yourself in front of the fucking Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne,. Twice, in fact. You didn’t even want to think about the display you’d shown for Bruce Wayne or Damian Wayne.

You didn’t really know what to do with your slightly obsessive crushes. And you could see it definitely being a problem in the near future.

…You decide that what you do in your private time is absolutely nobody but your business, and keep watching. It’s a mix of bitter spite and genuine mental breakdown levels of desperation that leads you to that decision. You feel like you’re a child with their toy being taken away, and it’s making you mad. And sad too. Even if you shouldn’t do this anymore, you still want to keep the habit. You’d mentioned before your creature comforts were one of the few things that kept you going. And while you were mostly very good at not being the jealous, heinous creature you really are, you knew you wouldn’t be giving this up.

They’d have to tear your gossip channels from your cold dead palms. You weren’t giving them up, not without a fight at least. Unfortunately for you, the universe seemed determined to wrestle away literally everything you loved.

Guilt’s for tomorrow. Today is for ice cream and purposefully ignoring everything. Speaking of which, you can not remember the last time you had a good Ben & Jerry’s. They were so expensive these days, as all groceries were. You simply couldn’t afford it. The Waynes, of course, had multiple tubs in multiple different options. Alfred had seemed delighted that you’d taken the ice cream, for which reasons you could not perceive.

Oh, yeah! His name was Alfred. Very butler-y. You’d remember it this time, he was a very nice man. And he called you ‘young miss’ which earned him points. He also didn’t seem to hate you on sight or treat you like a two-headed freak, like some of the other people in this household. Not naming names. Yeah, fuck that noise, Damian Wayne obviously has issues and it’s much less attractive in real life.

The woman drones on, and your eyes flick to your phone. Yup, she’s still yapping. It’s not like you don’t appreciate Dick’s abs or anything, it’s just that you think she might’ve been talking about this one specific photo for over half an hour now. Lady should get a hobby. Wait, wait, this is her job. Maybe you should start a podcast where you rant about the Wayne’s exercise regimes. It seems to be quite a lucrative field.

You shriek when the door slams open, nearly tumbling backwards off the bed. Hands manage to grip the bedcovers before you tip over, not making a complete fool of yourself. As it goes, you lose your spoon to the carpet. Bits of cookie dough spread over the floor in a divine sacrifice. And you lose your sanity to the man standing in the doorway. To be fair, he looks just as confused as you feel.

You blink at the physically perfect form of Dick Grayson and then turn your head to the TV to look at the other physically perfect form of Dick Grayson.

…You really wish you had a good explanation for this.

He mutters out your name, lips parted. Dick Grayson seems absolutely shocked to find you here. His eyes flick around the room and eventually land on the TV. Said baby blues widen to the size of saucers when the reporter makes a really, really unnecessary comment.

“And in news that broke the hearts of both ladies and gentlemen everywhere in Bludhaven, Dick Grayson has announced he will be returning to Gotham to assist his family in this difficult time. My cousin in the Blud is probably crying right now. There’s no ass out there quite like his, and there’s no replacement for Bludhaven’s favourite young rich bachelor,” she winks at the camera, and then the shot of his toned stomach phases forward to take up the entire screen.

Well, there’s a lot to say about that. First of all, fuck. Second of all, shit. Third of all, she really couldn’t have said that part about Dick coming back to Gotham sooner? Perchance, before you’d found yourself in this situation?

You said you weren’t that lucky, you meant it.

“But still, ain’t that lucky for us Gothamites? I myself have spent a lot of time on Dick’s Tiktok and Instagram, and his acrobatic videos have been used in a lot of my personal-”

You snatch the remote from the sheets and pause it right there. The silence is tense. You wait for him to say something, but he just stares at you. Completely stunned, mouth-catching flies. You want to pull the covers up and hide under them, but you don’t think that’d make him leave.

“I couldn’t find my room,” you finally manage to say. It’s the worst excuse you’ve ever heard, sounds like a complete lie. And yet, unfortunately, it is the truth.

Dick’s eyes drift to the TV, which you still haven’t unpaused. You can’t tell if it would be worth it, just to get rid of his golden brown abs staring at you judgementally, even if you’d have to deal with the extra embarrassment of the dialogue over them. Maybe if you muted the TV? It wouldn’t make up for the insult of his paparazzi photos on a widescreen.

It takes you even longer to come up with an excuse for… that.

“I was checking the news about last night,” you continue, the panic in you rising like a tea kettle left on the stove for too long. You might start shrieking like one too.

You don’t think he believes you. He looks down at the Beatles shirt you’re wearing. You know what he’s going to say before he does, but you still dread it.

“You’re wearing my clothes,” he mutters, his voice awed.

You want to say, ‘Nooo! No, no, no! Don’t do this to me, damn it! Not anymore! No more, please! It’s enough, enough suffering! This is genuinely ridiculous, damn you!’ but instead you reply with a shaky, “…Didn’t have any of mine.”

Also, you’ve been huffing Eau de Dick Grayson? That’s definitely in character for you. You want to beat your own head in with a stick.

“And I couldn’t find my room, and uh, thought this one wasn’t being used,” you continue, daring a glance back at him. He still looks completely stumped.

“It wasn’t,” he answers, but it sounds like he’s a thousand miles away.

You know, Dick Grayson was supposed to be a lot more charming than this. You’re almost proud you managed to stun the man into near speechlessness. Almost, almost. Almost not going to kill yourself once he leaves.

If he leaves. He doesn’t look like he’s getting up. You eye the gap between you and the door. Your animal brain is telling you to just run for it. But Dick has Olympic level athletics, and you don’t doubt he could catch you if you ran. Would he try though? That’s the deciding factor here.

He doesn’t seem like he’s actually going to fucking do anything though. He just keeps staring, like if he looks for long enough, it’ll all start to make sense. Which, you wish.

“Do you know where my room is? I couldn’t… remember…”

He nods, instead staring at his own abs on the TV.

“Can you take me to my room?”

He nods again. Still doesn’t look back at you.

“…Mr. Grayson?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. ‘You’ wouldn’t have used his last name, even though you might’ve. ‘You’ had been a casual person, as far as you could tell. That was the kindest way you could say it, at least.

His head snaps to you. He somehow looks more confused. You wonder if you should pinch him or something, god knows you’ve done your fair share of pinching yourself recently.

“Yes, right, sorry. Let’s… go,” he gives you a cheery smile, shaking his head, but it seems quite strained. You’re probably matching. This is the most humiliating moment of your life, and of course, it’s with the most beautiful man on earth right beside you.

A break. You want a break.

The two of you quietly shuffle out of the room, and when he guides you forward, you follow him obediently. Your head naturally bows, shame making it hard to look at him. You stare at the wooden floors as you walk. Watching it shine in the morning light that filters through the windows.

Eventually, he comes to a stop in front of a door that has obviously been avoided. Though it’s as clean as every other inch of this house, there are no marks in the rug from the door opening and closing. And even then, it seems… well, it sounds silly, but the door seems sad to you. Too many things seem sad to you these days.

Your thoughts must show on your face because Dick clears his throat and gives you a worried look. Is it rude to say you’re sick of those sorts of looks? That they just make you feel sick and burdened these days? It’s not like you could bring your family back from the dead, or convince your cheating boyfriend to not be a piece of shit. It was out of your hands.

“…Are you alright?” he asks you, blue eyes sincere. You tilt your head to the side.

“No?” you say, but it sounds more like a question. No, you are not alright. Yes, you will be okay. It’s the only option. It’s one of your rules. You have to be okay. You just have to.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You almost laugh.

“No,” this time your voice is firm, confident. Dick seems like he’s going to push it, but something in your eyes makes him stop. You give him a forced smile and say goodbye, closing the door gently in his face. Once you do, you crouch down and once again, press your face to your knees. Then you press your hands to your mouth and let out a scream that had been bubbling up for a while. After that, you feel you can live with the humiliation that is your existence without jumping out the three-story-height window.

You stand up, turning to the room. The first thing you notice about it is that there’s dust in here. Same as Dick’s old room. Now that you think about it, Alfred doesn’t seem the type who’d randomly leave certain rooms uncleaned, so it must be something he does out of respect for the tenants of Wayne Manor. Or maybe the old you requested it? God knows.

Sitting down on the old bed, your eyes rove around the room. It’s well decorated, as the rest of the manor is, but you can’t see anything that would make it your room. There’s none of the novels you’d collected from the used books store, no dorky little items you impulse bought, no pictures of your family. The apartment hadn’t had those either.

‘You’- she- seemed like a ghost to you. While you’d often felt like you’d barely been alive, simply going through the motions, this girl seemed like she hadn’t even been conscious half the time she was doing it. It made your stomach swim, your face pulls taught.

While you’d had few things holding you afloat, it’d been enough to keep you alive. Molly, your co-workers, the need to work so as to not starve to death. She hadn’t had anything like that. No liferaft. You’d been sputtering and gasping your way through life, and she’d been drowning. Maybe already dead, at the bottom of the sea, hair tangling with the seaweed.

This room feels like a coffin, and this manor like a cemetery. It makes you physically sick.

Showing off your fickle-mindedness, you realise that despite this being the Wayne manor filled with all your idols, you actually don’t want to fucking be here. You need space to clear your head, and the creaking floorboards that echo down the creepy hallways just don’t offer that. The atmosphere at your too-modern, too-minimalist apartment is leagues better than the atmosphere at this gorgeous old house which you’d usually love spending hours getting lost in.

Usually. Unfortunately, this place was more suffocating than the workplace when you knew you were about to get fired again. And you weren’t getting paid to stay here, so why the fuck would you?

Once you realise you’ve decided to run, you’re quick to pack up your shit. There’s not much in the room you need. A pair of sneakers, because you would rather die than put those heels on again. And you’ll grab some shirts because they’re comfy and remind you of home. Hopefully, it’ll make everything… grate… a little less. All of this is thrown in an old ratty backpack, which is then tossed over your shoulder. Shoes slipped on, and tapped against the floor so they’re on comfortably. And then you’re ready. Ready as you’ll ever be. With one hand on your phone, you take a peek outside the door. Coast is clear.

You press call for ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’. Jeanine picks up on the third ring.

“Hello, Jeanine Ryans here,” she says, her voice all business.

“Jeanine, I need an evac, stat,” you whisper to her, creeping down the hallway of the manor. The floor is unbelievably creeky, so it’s pretty fucking difficult to be stealthy about it.

“…What?”

“Get me out of this fucking manor, please,” you beg, now going down the stairs. Almost out, almost out.

“Right, on it. I’ll have a car outside in ten minutes if that’s alright?” Jeanine replies, immediately on the case. It almost makes you cry. You know she’s being paid for this, and very desperate for the job for some reason, but it’s still a hail mary that you are so grateful for.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” you say, turning a corner and-

Oh, fuck. Damian Wayne glares down at you, green eyes cataloguing every single guilty piece of you in existence. He sees your hand tighten around your backpack, hears Jeanine telling you not to worry through your phone, and probably notices the way your eyes desperately flicker behind him to the door. To your goal, to the exit to this labyrinth.

You can practically hear the wind blowing, see the tumbleweed drift by.

And then, he moves past you, twisting his body so no part of it touches you. There’s a moment where your brain freezes, something spicy smelling (cinnamon, maybe?) flowing past you, and by the time you turn around, he’s gone. Your deer-in-headlights tensed-shoulders look falls, leaving you confused in the foyer. He didn’t even say a word to you. You felt like you just got passed over by a boss from a Dark Souls game.

…Well, you’ll take the wins where you can find them! Quickly, you hurry out the front door, skittering down the steps like some sort of rat. It’s a long walk to the gates, and you don’t really know how to open them to let the car in, so you decide to take your time and enjoy the walk. The early morning dew apon the clean-cut blades of grass glint and sparkle, the gravel on the road crunches under your technically-not-stolen sneakers, and even if it’s a miserable life, it’s a pretty day. From the hill the manor lives upon, you can see Gotham’s tall skyline, cloaked in its characteristic fog.

Eventually, you find yourself in front of the gate, where you can see Jeanine waiting with a black car on the otherside. There’s a big green button next to the side gate, which you press, and it clicks open. There’s a moment where your neck tingles, and you glance up at the camera pointed down at you. The red flickering light beside it holds your attention. You can see your bedraggled reflection in its lense.

Shaking your head, you move on, greeting Jeanine. She gives you a quick bow of the head and opens the door for you. You hike the bag over your shoulder, give the Wayne manor one final, lingering look and then you step into the car. Jeanine starts speaking to you about some future appointments you have, and you’re too tired to understand a word of what she says. She realises you’re not processing anything she says, and hands you a pair of headphones with a wire adapter.

You could kiss her right then and there. You don’t because that’d be weird, but you definitely think about it. Headphones on, you watch the rolling hills and luxurious manors turn into highways and honking traffic, to finally the upside part of town which was now apparently where you lived.

Eventually you find yourself being delivered in front of your swanky new apartment. With a passing goodbye, Jeanine tells you that she’ll be busy for the rest fo the day so if you need anything to call the number on the card she hands you. You tuck it in your pocket, certain you’ll lose it like every other business card you’ve ever been handed.

The elevator ride up to your room is contemplative. The music is boring, your reflection is bedraggled and tired, and the gentle feeling of gravity under your feet tugs at you. You rock slightly when you finally reach your floor. The doors open, but you don’t make any move to leave. They shut again, and you’re left staring daggers at your mirrored self.

You’d woken up, still here. It wasn’t a dream. It was reality. And more than that, it seemed more and more like you’d be staying in this reality. You didn’t think you could go home. Sure you were rich but… but your home. Your few things you’d managed to save. Your meagre group of friends and your hard-sought job. It made you nauseous. Where had you lost it all? Why were you here now? Why did you keep having to lose everything?

You manage to snap yourself out of it before someone else calls the elevator. Striding out of the space, you look to the right where you remember your apartment coming from. It’s not hard to find the unit, as there are only three on the entire floor. Rich people.

The door closes with a satisfying thud behind you, and you nearly melt with exhaustion.

This apartment is the ninth circle of hell for you. Scrambling around on your knees, you’re desperate to find the damn phone that won’t stop ringing. You can’t understand where the sound is coming from.

Under your bed? You shine your other’s phone’s light under it. Nope. Behind the dresser? Nada. You search inside the drawers and then peek inside the fancy lamp. Absolutely nothing. You’re ready to tear your hair out when you spot something… odd.

There’s… You think there’s something stuck in your floorboards. You dig at the space with your fingernails and the piece of wood pops open. Inside is… a cardboard box. An awfully familiar cardboard box, actually. The sight of your Mum’s old keepsake box makes you cry out with joy, lifting it from its little enclave. You’d lost a lot in the past few days but at least the old you knew how to keep your family’s stuff safe.

This apartment looks brand new. And apparently the past you dug into it to hide her stuff. You can’t really judge, you have a hidey-hole back at your apartment. It was a brick that had already been loose in the wall, so it didn’t feel quite as criminal as this.

The ringing is coming from inside the box. When you pull the lid up, you find a keepsake box a little different from yours. While yours only ever had your family’s old passports and photo albums, this one had a sleek phone sitting on top of all the mementos. It’s an exact copy of the phone on your bed- or well, it would be, if you hadn’t dropped it.

Two phones? This bitch was greedy. And so are you, eagerly sweeping the expensive item into your gremlin hands. Your thieving high is instantly quashed when you see who’s calling.

Of all fucking… George.

You roll your eyes before hanging up, tossing the phone to the side as you start rifling through the old keepsake box. You flip through family photo albums and lovingly cradle old stuffies. The phone buzzes. You ignore it. You find one of your mother’s old necklaces, and because you’re desperate for anything that can ground you, slip it over your head. The cool heart locket rests just under your collarbone, and you clutch it with one hand as you keep exploring. The phone keeps buzzing. It’s only almost half an hour later when you realise something about this is strange.

Why is George… not blocked? You glance down at the vibrating object like it’s radioactive, a despairing frown pulling at your face. Cautiously, you pick it up, making sure not to open the notifications lest it tell George you read any of his messages.

He’s… apologising for not being there for your birthday. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. And it’s not even a proper apology, it’s one of those ‘I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings’ bullcrap. He keeps spamming you, and eventually, you realise that he’s not going to just stop.

You decide to nip this in the bud quickly because even remembering his cheating face makes you feel like throwing up.

‘You’: Why are you contacting me?

‘George <3’: Seriously? Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t there yesterday. I was busy, you know that.

Stupidly, you reply:

‘You’: ‘No, seriously, why are you contacting me? I’m done with you.’

You wonder how you ever loved this jackass. Even if he was obviously more of a jackass here, than where you’d come from. He was just better at pretending there. You keep scrolling, ignoring the new texts that pop up. Your stomach sours at the number of texts he himself had ignored, of the amount of ‘sorry baby, can’t come tonight’, the begging, the pleading.

No, he wasn’t worse at pretending. He just didn’t care.

You wonder if this could have been you, further along down the line. Abuse happens slowly, right? Like a frog in a pot. You’d have forgiven and forgotten, written away his worse behaviours till you couldn’t anymore. Till you couldn’t leave, till you were trapped.

You think George Lancaster would’ve tried to. He would’ve isolated you from everyone you had left if he hadn’t screwed up and got caught.

You realise now there were a lot of red flags in your relationship with George. Molly always hated him and he hated her. He’d constantly complain about how much time you spent with her, spamming you with texts when you went out.

You were only… only two days since you’d actually broken up with him. Which was sort of crazy to think about. You feel like you’ve lived eons since then. Like that one traumatic incident aged you thirty years. Anyway, you still hadn’t processed the whole George thing. You’d been sort of busy fighting for your life.

‘George’: I’m here, can you at least open the door so we can talk face to face?

Freeze. A knock sounds, and your head snaps up to the front door. You don’t move. You just wish it away. The knocking only gets louder and louder.

You feel like a dumb girl in a horror movie as you walk towards the door, unlocking it and creaking the knob open. George Lancaster stands on the other side, and before you can slam it in his face, he grabs you by the arm and yanks you out of the door. And then he’s pulling you to the elevator, even as you try and get your bearings, get yourself away from him.

“You can’t just ignore me like this,” George says, pissed off to high hell, “We’re going to miss the reservation I booked specifically for you. I told you it was happening today and-”

There’s white noise between your ears, you can’t hear what he’s saying. Told you? It wasn’t in any of the texts. He’s still talking even as the elevator dings, even as he shoves you in a white sports car that’s half parked on the curb. Even as he drives his way through Gotham’s streets, he won’t fucking shut up.

Why are you letting this happen to you? Why aren't you fighting back, wrenching yourself from his grasp? He takes you into a restaurant, one so upscale that normally you wouldn’t be able to get in for months, and your head snaps from staring socialites to watching politicians to gawking celebrities. You have the eyes of the world on you right now, and they’re all watching George yell at you.

And you can’t find your voice.

It's like a scab you can't stop picking at. Like you think this is what you deserve or something. And it's not. You know it's not. And yet you follow obediently, chastised and embarrassed, as he pulls you through the restaurant. When he picks a table in the centre of the room, you don’t protest. When he chooses your meal for you, even though it’s not to your taste, you don’t protest.

Looking at George, scrolling lazily on his phone, your hands clench against the table. They’re sweating, shaking, nails digging into your palms.

You… you didn’t have to break up with him again, did you? You realised it earlier, but you didn’t- it didn’t really sink in. Your first breakup with George Lancaster was a miserable traumatic experience, and it had been in the solitary streets of Gotham’s Narrows. This one, this one would be seen by literally everyone.

Nauseous. You feel so damn nauseous, your mouth dry as you swallow down bile. This was ridiculous. You couldn’t stand seeing his face. Was he texting her right now? God, did she even know? You’d just stormed out that night, running from what you’d seen.

George had chased after you. Had he left her there? Your stomach churned at the idea. You had to hate her on principle but, well, you also had to sympathise with her. Contradictions, that was the average you. You didn’t want to help this random girl. Didn’t want to have to ever think of her again.

…Staring at George, a definitively awful person, you can’t do it. Can’t just leave her to it.

“I’m breaking up with you,” you say.

“What?” George replies, not even looking up from his phone.

“I’m breaking up with you!” you shout. It’s not even intentional, just a result of being pushed too far, of breaking too easily.

The restaurant goes quiet. Guess you’re up for another scandal then. Whatever, it wasn’t like you would’ve lasted much longer anyway. This was all too complicated for your recently traumatised mind to handle. And it was just too damn stupid to bother with anyway. All of this was fucking stupid.

You included.

Just pull the bandaid off, right? You could already see how this version of you had so many scandals to her name. You probably should start giving a shit. Or at least trying to. You don’t think you want to, though.

George puts his phone down face down on the tablecloth, giving you a calm look. That slightly pitying stare activates something in your brain you didn’t really know was there. It’s a type of rage you haven’t known since you were a kindergartner and one of the other girls said you couldn’t play princesses. Since your first service job where your manager felt you up. Just pure, petty, anger. The type of anger ready to burn the world down as long as it burns whoever pissed you off as well. He opens his mouth, probably to say something condescending, and your hand whips out and snatches his phone.

“Hey!” George says instead, his eyes widening.

You turn the phone back on. Hm, passcode. You flip it around and use facial recognition to open it. Despite the fact that George wears the most comically shocked expression, with saucer-wide eyes and a mouth open to catch flies, it unlocks. Nice.

“Hey! What are you doing?” George demands, reaching over the table for his phone.

You twist away from his reach. Password. You flip the phone, and despite George’s comically shocked expression, it still unlocks. He shouts again when it does, probably realising that you might be taking this seriously. That he might actually be in trouble. That his sugar mummy might not take too kindly to the numerous texts to other women on his phone.

…You really can’t believe you’re a sugar mummy. And for George of all people. What a horrendous waste of money, it’s fucking tragic.

He’s got the texts with someone known as ‘Pizza Hut’ pulled up, with some very flirtatious messages. You scroll up furiously, ducking under George as he gets up from the table and tries to get the phone. Still, backing up, the sight of a very poorly shot dick pic of George’s has you grimacing. Your focus on the picture, trying to decide whether his penis looked so unappealing before you’d learnt of his betrayal, has you distracted when one of the servers come around.

And, well, shirt, meet soup. Very, very hot soup. Everyone? Meet a screeching, klutzy moron.

George takes the chance to advance on you, snatching his phone from you. He doesn’t even seem to care you’re currently getting third-degree burns. The sting scorches through the thin fabric of your dress shirt, burning your skin. George grabs you again, his grip harsh enough this time you know it will bruise, and you can’t really say why you do what you do at that moment.

Your aunt used to have a chihuahua. It was an ugly, grumpy thing. She’d rescued it late into its life, and it had been treated poorly beforehand. It didn’t like to be touched at all and used to run from anyone who tried. And if you tried to touch it? Cornered it?

Well, of course, it started biting.

George’s howl is the most satisfying thing you’ve ever heard. His squeal of “bitch!” might be even more so. He slaps you away from him, and the sound echoes in the restaurant. Your face stings. When you land ass first in the puddle of still-too-hot soup, you wonder if you might try and bite him again. You don’t think you even broke the skin, considering you can’t taste blood. The other patrons stare on in genuine horror, like they’ve never seen a messy breakup before. One woman raises a hand to her mouth, and gasps-

You find yourself staring up at a furious George, one with a menace in his eyes you’ve never seen before. You wonder, idly, if he’s ever hit you before. Well, not you, but ‘you’. You realise now that he has the capacity for it, that he probably always did.

“What the fuck!?” he hisses, angry eyes darting from side to side, “Biting me?! In fucking public?! Have you lost it, you crazy bitch?! And you got my phone fucking soaked in soup!”

“Did you buy it?” you ask, wiping your mouth with your sleeve to get George’s dirty taste out of your mouth.

He blinks, confused, thrown off by your question, “Huh?”

“Did you buy that phone?” you repeat, your staring starting to turn into a furious glare.

You don’t think he did. Your George had never been able to afford those sorts of things, he’d been as broke as you were. Of course, you’d seen him lust over those items, but you’d always managed to convince him not to go into debt over silly things like sports cars and fancy phones. And even then, you’d been the one to buy him a PS5.

He looks down at the phone and back at you, and you can see his jaw tick.

“I bought it. That’s mine.”

“It was a gift. You’re going to be such a bitter bitch to take back everything you gave me? Gonna leave me out on the fucking street?” he says, spittle flying with angry words.

This was escalating fast. Maybe before you’d have been cowed by his words, but you were genuinely off your rocker by now and were very much willing to tango with this bastard. Like yes, he did terrify you, but so did everything else. You could handle this much at least. You weren’t ready to back down.

“And if I did? What then George? What could you even fucking do?” you throw back, voice rising to match his.

“It’s not your money either, it’s theirs, you little leech!” says the pot.

“Does it matter?” replies the kettle.

Pushing to your feet, you find George without another answer. He stands between you and the exit. With the plain murderous rage on his face, you think he’ll try to grab you again if you run past. He wouldn’t bite you back, but he might slap you or something. So instead, like any good coward does, you run straight to the girl’s bathroom. It hasn’t failed you yet, and you doubt it will today.

You shove into the bathroom, past a woman doing her makeup. Her head bobs up and down as she takes in your seemingly infamous face, and your stained shirt. You stride as far away from her as possible, darting into the last bathroom stall and sitting on the closed toilet lid. You pull your knees to your chest and hiss out a sound of frustration when that presses the sticky liquid against your chest and pants. Not your brightest idea, but you were sort of running on fumes right now.

The bathroom stall is extremely clean. One thing you were quickly realising about rich people is they didn’t have to suffer shitty public bathrooms. You didn’t think they deserved it. Like customer service jobs, and traffic, they built character.

What were you doing? Right, trying not to cry. You’re doing much better than yesterday. Still, sitting on top of the toilet’s closed lid, your phone pressed to your face, you wouldn’t say you’re doing ‘good’.

But because you knew George was too much of a pussy to ever enter the woman’s bathrooms, you refuse to move a single inch. You don’t want to go out there. At all. At all, at all. You’d tried to call Jeanine, but she hadn’t answered. Some P.A. she was. You still weren’t going to fire her. Then you remember that she told you she was going out later, and that she’d left a card with you. Digging through your pocket, you decide it’s finally time to die when you realise you lost the card somewhere along the line.

So, she wasn’t going to come save you as your knight in shining armour.

You can’t remember Molly’s number. Who did these days? That was your phone’s job. So you were left with… this. You were left with this. Four blocked numbers and a third had sent an automatic reply because he was driving. Alfred was probably busy. Weren’t butlers always very busy?

…Rich people weren’t often very busy. They had butlers and assistants to do all their chores. You unblock all four of the Waynes that you have on your phone.

The first thing you notice is the amount of texts between ‘you’ and Dick. Scrolling and scrolling, you find most of them are him checking up on you and one-word replies from the old you. He’s friendly and accepting, even when you respond in cruel and aggressive tones. The further back you scroll, the kinder your replies are. At one point it seems like the two of you had a good relationship.

You check the other chats. Tim’s message log is filled with coffee requests sent back and forth between you, Damian’s is completely empty, and Bruce’s has had no response from your phone in years. But eventually, you scroll back far enough that you find an actual conversation instead of just ‘Call Alfred’ repeated every few days.

‘You’: I miss them.

‘Bruce Wayne’: I know. I miss them too.

You press the back button, sighing. That felt like you’d seen something you shouldn’t have, like you’d peeked into someone’s diary. Which was unbelievably stupid. All of this is unbelievably stupid. You should just leave, you should just be brave. Two days ago you faced off against one of your worst fears, but today you couldn’t even handle George Lancaster.

You want someone to rescue you. You know no one will unless you ask. It makes you choke on your own self-disgust. This is the second time in one day. God, maybe you should just do it yourself. It’s not like you couldn’t pay for your own Uber.

And still, you find yourself clicking on a name and begging. Skin crawling, you type and retype the text probably a hundred times. You go from long apologies to begging to rants you never intended to send in the first place. Tap, tap, tap, and then you delete, delete, delete.

What you settle on is simple.

‘You’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx

Maybe a bit too simple. You cross your arms and tuck yourself in the good ol’ fetal position. You feel like you’ve spent half your time holding yourself like this the past three days.

‘Dick Grayson’: I’ll be there in five.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

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flamingpudding · 1 year

Text

The Ghost King is my Uncle Drabbles

A/N: The original this sorta ties too: Original One Shot

>>Masterpost

Shovel Talks

Constantine swore up a storm of course only mentally. It wasn't like he was going to voice any of his thoughts right now. Not when he was faced with the good damn Ghost King. All he wanted was to summon one of his contracted demons to gather some information and what did he get the fucking Ghost King.

"Trench coat! We meet again. You worked on your manners, I hope?"

"Of course your majesty." Well he didn't but he avoided the freaking bats like crazy.

"Well I gotta thank you. Well you and my In-Law that's busy and asked me to substitute for your call since we meet and before and so on." The Ghost King casually waved his hand in a dismissive manner before looking around with his eyes sparkling in recognition and it sent a shudder down Constantine's back. "You are giving me the perfect opportunity."

Did… did the Ghost King just pull out a green glowing sword from a fucking portal and why did he have that glint in his eyes? Constantine paled. Why did this have to happen to him?

"If you will excuse me for a moment. I need to look for a Kryptonian real quick. I will deal with your problem right after. Promise."

With that the Ghost King phased through the floor apparently in search of Superman who just happened to be in the watchtower today. Fuck. Constantine run out of the room in mild panic and pushed whoever was on communication aside as he dialed for the bats. The moment someone on their end pick up he didn't bother to explain anything and just shouted for one of them to get their fucking ass here as fast as possible or superman was going to be history!

Okay that might also have sent the people witnessing his panic into chaos but this was a fucking emergency.

It was only minutes later that Batman did indeed arrived together with Nightwing and Red Robin with the Zeta-Tube at the watchtower to bear witness to Superman getting cornered by the Ghost King with Constantine bound by echo-bindings for apparently having annoyed the Ghost King with his pleading to spare the Kryptonian.

"Now I am sure I don't have to repeat myself but, IF you ever hurt Baby Bat a fate way worse than the Soul Shredder and the Nightmare Realm will be the least of your problems. The last guy that hurt my family is still in there and I will gladly make you permanently join him."

A cough resounded and Danny turned his head, a bright smile on his face as he spotted his little nephew and two of the little babies.

"Baby Bat, Baby Menace and Baby Stalker! I will be done in a little bit!"

"Ghost Ki-"

"Uncle Danny."

Batman let out a suffering sigh as Nightwing and Red Robin snickered.

"Uncle Danny. Why are you threatening Superman?"

"Because Jazz forbade me to use the Soul Shredder on humans but Superman is not human so I am allowed to use it on him."

"Uncle Danny, why do you want to use the 'Soul Shredder'" -as a joke Nightwing used air quotes- "on the him in the first place?"

"Shovel talk."

Batman chocked and Red Robin spluttered as Nightwing had a hard time suppressing a laugh. Constantine and Superman gapped at the Ghost King.

"You… are threading him for shovel talk purposes? What even is the nightmare realm?"

"A place you don't want to be in. Very traumatic and perfect to externally punish anyone that hurts my family in any regard as long as I am allowed to dump them there."

There was an added barely hearable grumble of "I would have sent the Joker and Ra's in there long ago if Clockwork weren't such a stick in the mud about keeping the timeline straight and their roles and bla bla bla."

Red Robin did a double take. Did the Ghost King just admit that he would have liked to sent their rogues into a place that was most likely hell? Wait didn't he mention sending someone in there permanently earlier.

No one noticed Superman slowly inching away from the blade still pointed at him while the Ghost King's attention wasn't on him. Well the bats noticed but didn't react to it, deeming it safer for the Super.

"Uh you said you dumped someone permanently in there?" Red Robin tried to keep the attention on them.

"Well yea." The Ghost King casually shrugged, adjusting the blade so Superman could no longer inch away from him. "I looked away from the Ice Mirrors for a week and someone dared to hurt Moma Bat. Of course I was enraged and snatched that guy off the street to permanently drop him in there."

There was a beat of heavy silence. Batman under his cowl bluescreened especially with how casually Danny just admitted at having snatched up his parents murderer to punish the man. Well that explained why he never found the culprit.

"Now If you excuse me little Babies I am gonna finish this talk with the Kryptonian and make sure he knows what will happen if he hurts Baby Bat."

With this the Ghost King turned back to the rapidly paling Superman with a feral grin. The Birds sweat dropped as Batman was still not mentally present, his mind still working through the information.

"Think I would be able to borrow that sword?" Red Robin suddenly asked as Nightwing eyed Batman worringly. "He only said that Great Grandma forbade him to use it on humans. He never said we couldn't."

"Don't let Robin or Hood hear that." Nightwing said, even if he wanted to borrow it himself too. With B mentally still checked out he had to act as the responsible one. That wouldn't stop him from asking their Ghost Uncle later if he could borrow the sword anyway.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #fanfic #crossover #tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #superman #john constantine #DPxDC #Ghost Uncle Danny #Shovel Talks #dc x dp fic #crackish #no beta wie die like danny #drabble

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grand-theft-carbohydrates · 1 year

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i literally spend at least 2 hours a week just looking at various pictures of the terracotta army. utterly entranced. look at the details in the hair. you'd never see ANY of this when they're lined up in formation, but they're there.

theres about 8000 of these guys down there, no two faces are alike. they're works of art. they're the manifestation of a cruel despot's delusions of grandeur. a talisman against the terrible inevitability of death, both pathetic and strangely pitiful. like watching a child clinging to his blanket, begging you not to turn off the light. they were a bunch of insignificant clay statues from a side chamber that was so small and unremarkable, no one bothered to write down the location. they were modelled after real people. their only purpose was to serve qin shi huang in the afterlife, so he could reign in heaven as he did on earth. now the emperor is just a ghost and his pawns are immortal. my dad and i visited them in the dead of winter, on a weekday, just so we wouldn't have to deal with tourists like us. the place had easily 500 people--not including the ones below ground. we traveled to xian via the old "green skin" diesel train. there are faster means, like highspeed rail but dad insisted i try the authentic way, the same way he would have traveled when he was my age it was also like, a quarter of the price but im sure that had nothing to do with it! back in the 80s carriages would get so packed people had to have their luggage passed in via the windows. as we chugged along, i read my book and my dad made us cup noodles. car is just a shortened version of "carriage", the word is the same but the mechanism is different. it's the same in chinese. i think if i told someone from the warring states period i could travel from the Kingdom of Qi to Qin in just four hours with my metal carriage, i'd be laughed out of town--or accused of being a spy and sentenced to 'death by carriage.' we hopped off the train at 4am and took a different "carriage." the taxi driver joked; "basically every dynasty put their capital in xian, stick a shovel anywhere and you'll turn up some national treasure or another." i wonder what it would have felt like to be a farmer digging a well and then out pops a remarkably realistic human head. statistical analysis show the soldier's faces bear a strong similarity to people living in the region today. the taxi stopped in front of a jewellery-hawking tourist trap and refused budge an inch until we went inside. did you know the terracotta soldiers were originally multi-coloured and painfully gaudy, just like the greek marbles? they were made assembly-line style. the arms and legs were made from the same workshops that made clay plumbing pipes and roof tiles. for quality control, the artisans were required to stamp their names. the workers who built these tombs were executed shortly afterwards, because only dead men can be trusted with secrets. qin shi huang's mausoleum is unlikely to be excavated in my father's lifetime, or mine, not unless i'm willing to take a BIG ONE for the team... instead of the tomb, they built some kind of qin shi huang-themed theme park next to it. not only was it tacky as hell the entrance fee was like $50. we went to the museum and i looked at bronze tools and pottery shards for three hours. look why can't we just crack the thing open i can't be the only one here whos dying from curiosity what if we all just took turns digging

#qin shi huangs terracotta army #warring states #qin dynasty #thinking about Her...<3 bronze tools and pottery shards <3 #my writing

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marchofmistria · 6 days

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A Nice Contrast

A/N: This is my first Fields of Mistria fic so I hope you like it! It's based off March's autumn dialogue when you speak to him at the forge and he tells you that it's nice and warm in contrast to the cold outside <3

Planning to cross-post this to AO3, and will update this post with the link when I do.

Summary: March helps you warm up by the forge when it starts to cool down in Mistria.

Word Count: 2,127

Tags: March x Reader, gender-neutral reader (2nd person), hurt/comfort, fluff

The summer bled into autumn and it was officially cold in Mistria. You felt like you barely had time to catch up, and the first two seasons you spent in the town sped by so fast you could scarcely remember to enjoy the season before it was over. Days at the beach with friends felt long and restful in the moment, and now they let out to a short and cool autumn when a farmer's work is hardest. Your wardrobe had yet to catch up to the change in Mistrian weather, however, and unpacking your warmer clothes was on the to-do list. However, a late start to the day after a late night in the mines and that plan was gone.

It was already 2PM by the time you had finished your daily tasks on your farm. The crops were watered and they had just begun to peer out of the dark soil. Your animals were fed and seemed happy. You sat down for a moment next to Caldarus, chatting with him as you untied your hair and changed out of your farming gloves. There were errands to do today, after all, and Mistria certainly did not rest for you.

As you fell into the swing of the day, your morning plans were quickly and totally forgotten. You didn't have much of a chance to notice; you felt warm from running around the whole town for hours. These townsfolk sure knew how to run you to the ground. First it was a delivery for Balor, then a chat with Nora before returning to Balor, then a trip to the museum to discuss a new finding with Eiland and Errol, some fishing for Reina's new dish at the Inn tonight, and a quick trip to the mines to repair a chip in the metal of your shovel.

Your body had gotten stronger in the last few months since arriving to the small town, but you felt exhausted regardless. Days felt like they ended too soon as is, but as you left the mines, you were truly surprised by the incoming dark. How did it get so late so fast?

The feeling really set in once you set off to the forge to smelt your findings. The breeze blew your hair back and out of your face, exposing your shoulders further and starting a chill down your arms. You felt thirsty and very hungry and realized you missed lunch and would miss dinner if you didn't hurry.

Wanting to catch March before he left the forge for his own dinner, you hurried on, wrapping your arms protectively around your shoulders for some mock-warmth. It did little to help, and you had begun to feel a bit lightheaded.

March seemed to be finishing his work day just as you were arriving, although you knew he would leave the forge hot for you to use at all hours. He had grown accustomed to your habits, knowing how busy you were throughout the day and that you might come to the forge even late at night to squeeze as much into the day as you could before you passed out from exhaustion.

When you finally stumbled up to him, he addressed you with a curt "Hey," his usual attempt at appearing nonchalant. Just as he had grown accustomed to your habits, you had gotten to know his as well. You had gotten pretty good at giving whatever he gave you right back to him, and your conversations were at the point of total ease.

But rather than shooting the shit with him as you usually did, well enough to break down his boundaries to show even some vulnerability (a shock to anyone who had ever spoken to March), you ignored his greeting and rested your hand on the anvil for support. At this point, you felt like it was the only thing supporting your weight up.

March, who often couldn't help but observe you closely whenever you were near him, noticed right away and rushed over to you. His brows knit together, he put a strong arm under your arm for you to lean into. You all but collapsed into his support for a moment, before regaining a bit of strength and using your legs to lift yourself up a bit more again.

"What's wrong?" March asked, an arm still around your torso in case you fully passed out on him. His heart beat faster, worry showing on every feature. As soon as your head stopped spinning a moment later, you looked into his eyes and saw his concern. He couldn't even try and hide his real feelings like he usually did.

You blushed as soon as you realized how close your faces were to each other. The closest they'd ever been, you both quickly noted before pulling away from each other slightly. March did not withdraw his support though, despite the blush that was tinging the tips of his ears.

"Hey, did you hear me? What's wrong? Should I call Valen?" March asked again, concern growing as you didn't answer his first question. Your mind swam back into focus when March reached his hand up, moving your hair out of your face to feel your forehead with his hand. You closed your eyes at the warmth. His hands were rough against the skin of your forehead, but the warmth spread throughout your body.

"O-oh, sorry! I just got dizzy for a second..." You finally stuttered out. The crease between March's brows lessened slightly, but was still visible. He didn't move his hand away from your face. "I think I'm just tired from the mines, and I realized I didn't eat much today. I'll be fine though."

"What the hell? Why didn't you eat anything, dumbass?" March all but barked at you. You couldn't help but smile a bit to yourself. So this is what it looks like when March worried about you...

"Charming as ever, March," you replied quietly, hoping to ease some of his worry and show that you really were okay. But as soon as that signature smirk reappeared, pulling up the corner of his lips, it was gone as you tried to walk again and stumbled once more. The dizziness was back, and you were worried that he may be right about the fever after all.

"Hey, hey... you should sit down. Don't try and stand up again," March commanded, lowering you gently to the ground. You didn't think March was capable of touching anything so gently, let alone you. He kneeled down at your side and made sure you were comfortable with your back propped against the outer wall of his house. "You're freezing... why aren't you dressed more warmly?"

You had nearly forgotten how chilly you'd gotten, and his comment caused a shiver to run down your spine. March had you scoot a bit closer to the fire in the forge. "It's warm by the forge," March said quietly, taking your hands in his and pulling them a bit closer to the fire in an attempt to warm you up a bit faster. "You shouldn't hang around in the cold too long. Especially in what you're wearing! What were you thinking?"

"March, I'm fine. I promise. I'm just a bit tired." You said weakly, hoping to provide reassurance once more (even though you didn't want him to let go of your hands quite yet. The warmth felt too good, both from the forge and from your closeness.)

"Like hell you are. You're gonna sit here while I go find Valen, got it?" You didn't dare defy him while looking into his sharp eyes. "Will you be okay a few minutes alone?" he said, the softness seeping through yet again. Your head was reeling from this contrast alone, and you nodded. March looked back at you one more time as if to verify the truth, his eyes softening as you leaned your head back to rest against the side of the house once more. Just before he left, he took off his brown jacket, throwing it on your lap before he turned and walked to Valen's clinic with speed.

As you waited for March to return with the doctor, you shrugged the jacket onto your cold shoulders. You couldn't help but note how comforting it smelled. It was the same pleasant smell you noticed when March leaned closer to you as you worked at the forge, observing your work and chiming in with helpful comments. It was also the same smell you enjoyed when March all but pulled you to his side at the Inn when he had a couple of beers in him. The warmth spread from your nose to the rest of your body. The smell of a crackling fire, leather, a bit of sweat (not at all unpleasant), and even... chocolate.

You had nearly fallen asleep in the pleasure of the smell alone when you heard March's deep voice coming up the cobblestone path to you. "—seemed like she was gonna faint. She told me she hadn't eaten anything all day, and looked like she was freezing her ass off."

Without a greeting, Valen knelt down to you eye level, checking your forehead with her hand before asking to put a thermometer in your mouth. You noticed how different her hands felt from March's. Soft, gentle, and a bit cold. Clinical was the right word.

"March, please go down to the Inn and grab them a bowl of soup, would you? That would be just the thing, I think." March went right away, as if he was tempted to do just that before Valen had given him the instruction.

"Y/N, you need to take better care of yourself. This behavior is a bit concerning to me, and it seems to March as well. Which, alone, says something, no?" Valen smiled knowingly. She gave you a bottle of water to sip on, and asked if you were still feeling dizzy. You were not. Just plain tired.

"You're running yourself to the ground with work, which I can't say I'm too happy about in the first place. But to make matters worse, skipping meals? Not dressing for the cold weather?" Valen chastised lightly. You were embarrassed that your lack of self-care had caught up with you, and now it was a problem for others as well. You hadn't meant to make anyone worry, which you expressed to Valen.

"You're right. It won't happen again. I'll make sure to take better care of myself," you said softly. "Sorry to make you worry..." Valen chuckled, surprised by your humbleness. "No need to apologize to me. We just want you to be healthy. You may not realize it, but everyone in this town has really grown to care for you. I know you want to take on everyone's problems, but I really think people would be more grateful if you watched out for yourself before you burn out all your energy."

Cheeks burning, all you could muster was a nod of your head. March returned with the soup in his hands. The steam that rose from it looked so incredibly appealing. March sat down next to you. "Have enough strength to hold the bowl or do I need to feed you?" March scoffed.

You shook your head, offering a small smile and thanking Valen again when she told you to monitor your condition and find her right away if you felt bad again. March sat next to you as you took spoonful after spoonful of the delicious vegetable soup. March said nothing, but in the silence you could tell he was making sure you finished every drop in the bowl. As soon as you had taken the last spoonful, March removed the bowl from your hands and set it down on the floor. "I'll bring this back later," said March.

"Do you think you can stand? I'll walk you back to your house," March sighed, extending his hand out for you to grab. The combination of the soup, the fire in the forge, and the presence of March next to you made you regain much of your strength. You grabbed March's hand and used it as leverage to pull yourself up to stand. Still wearing his brown leather jacket, the two of you set off in the direction of your farm.

It was only after March saw your front door close behind you and the lights flip on in your bedroom that he turned to head back home. Something about the thought of his jacket in your bedroom made his heart beat faster, and you both fell asleep that night heated by the feeling of each others proximity that lingered and left its warmth in you through the entire night.

#my writing #march #fields of mistria march #fom march #fields of mistria x reader #fields of mistria march x reader #march x reader #fields of mistria #fom #fields of mistria valen #fom valen #valen

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cheralith · 1 year

Text

to a heart's content — 「 single father!miguel o'hara x reader (part ii) 」

content warnings ; fem!reader, implied fem bodied!reader, use of she/her pronouns, reader wears dresses and makeup, mild violence mention

contains ; single father!miguel o'hara, boss!miguel o'hara, assistant!reader, angst, angst with some comfort, some fluff if you squint

word count ; 4.3k

notes ; at long last, here's the much waited part two! truly didn't expect the first part to blow up like it did, but i'm ever so grateful for all the support and the patience for those still here!

parts ; one two three (tba)

“Lyla, show me the nearest florist from here.”

“The nearest flower shop? That’s gonna be Business is Blooming on 27th Street—”

“27th Street?!” Miguel exclaims, his shock at the distance startling him and making his hands accidentally tighten the belt he was fixing much too tightly. He lets out a strangled choking sound and quickly loosens it before his legs lose oxygen, a feat that he’d hate to do just minutes prior to an event that could possibly change his life for the better. “That’s at least fifteen minutes away and on the opposite side of Clark! I’m already late, aren’t there any other ones closer?”

Lyla’s smaller holographic form pieces together on top of his full-body mirror that displays him in a formal-casual attire consisting of a cream turtleneck, black dress pants buckled with a coffee brown belt and topped altogether with a sepia overcoat that hadn’t seen the light of day since he bought it all those years ago. She puckers her grinning lips, a little amused at the rarity of Miguel in such an outfit and thinking he looks like a cup of coffee.

“Well, there’s always that crowded grocery store on Main?” she suggests as she examines her fingernails, instantly changing the pattern of them with a snap of her fingers. “But that’s gonna cost ya another twenty minutes and you’re already what—? Ten minutes late?”

Miguel fights off a groan at her teasing. “Lyla, I’m serious. Are there genuinely not any other ones around here? Any local ones? C’mon, this is Nueva York, there has to be at least one.”

“You could always try the marketplace. But then again, it’s Sunday so might not really be wise to take your chances,” Lyla shrugs.

Miguel even wonders if men these days still even have the dignity to give their partners flowers after realizing there is a significant lack of florists in today’s day and age. He wouldn’t be like them; flowers are a timeless gift everyone enjoys and he thinks if he can’t get it for you, he might as well not call himself a man at all.

His eyes go to spot the window in the reflection of the mirror where the sun is beginning to finally set and the city’s nightlife is rising from the dead. Buildings of all heights buster from every corner and the open road that eradicates much of the land dissolves a weary pit in his stomach, obviously annoyed at the many obstacles that block his path. Miguel takes another glance at the clock, the minute hand inching closer and closer and closer to 6:00. The initial plans were to leave the apartment by 5:30, acquire some gifts for you and then travel to the restaurant by 6:00, but seeing as how he’s still trapped in his abode, Miguel thinks that he can only do so much.

But he realizes that’s for Miguel O’Hara, renowned Alchemax geneticist and full-time father. Miguel O’Hara, an everyday citizen, couldn’t possibly crunch so much in such little time.

For Spider-Man, however…

Lyla eyes him suspiciously and purses her lips when Miguel looks at his wrists and then at the window again. “I don’t think that’s wise, Miguel.”

“What’s wise?” he replies coyly, going to quickly shovel off his clothes to replace them with a familiar blue and red attire.

“I know whatcha gonna do,” Lyla says and glitches around him as he searches for his suit. “But it’s not gonna end well, I’m tellin’ ya right now, mister!”

Miguel shakes her caution off, too occupied with shuffling on his superhero suit onto his body before neatly tucking his other outfit into his hammerspaced pocket. “It’ll be quick, I swear. I just need to get her some flowers and then I’ll be on my way. Lock up the house for me, yeah?”

“You’re not gonna make it,” Lyla shakes her head. “Just ditch the flowers and get her something on the way instead.”

But the last of Lyla’s words don’t make it to Miguel’s ears, as he’s already slinging and gliding himself out of the window and toward the given address of the florist. Lyla can only watch in artificial disdain as Miguel’s figure grows smaller and smaller through the passing seconds. She sighs, rolling her eyes as she flickers off the apartment lights before disintegrating.

The roar of the city life grows louder and louder the more Miguel comes closer to the center of it where the flower shop lays. People gather in clusters bustling about all over, making him a little weary of himself as he stares at them from above a high tower. He’s not exactly an ordinary passerby that can easily maneuver their way through so easily—especially not with this getup. Spider-Man is also a name that rather became widespread across the city of Nueva York, meaning that even if one person were to see the flash of blue and red, he’s up for trouble.

The evildoers tonight seem to be at cease, thankfully. He hasn’t heard of any malicious plotting or future events that will take place today by any of the supervillains that hunt him down like deer recently. Then again, there’s always smaller crimes still waiting to be stopped, but he’s sure the cops will come around for those. Miguel convinces himself it’ll just be a one time thing.

Yet when the familiar song of police sirens blare through the city, he twitches at the thought of leaving such miscreants in the hands of police when he’s sure he can take them down like an army of ten men.

But the police have ten men on them, so truly he can just leave it alone, right? He’s essentially in front of the flower shop that’s seated below an apartment building. All he has to do is just jump down, get the flowers, and leave in the nick of time. He doesn’t have time to dilly dally with low-rated criminals.

Then again, when he spots the gang of robbers in two white vans speeding down the road at a blistering speed without any caution for pedestrians, Miguel grits his teeth. On their tail is a rally of five police cars that keep gaining and losing them by the second and Miguel isn’t sure whether the irritation was from his indecisiveness or the fact that if he didn’t do anything, there will be consequences.

Perhaps do both to ease his mind? No, he can’t do that. You’re most likely on your way to the restaurant, all dolled up and fresh-faced. He still would need the time to fix himself up in some dingy public bathroom. A cop car that’s been hiding in the corner joins the chase—that’s surely more than enough to take care of them?

Miguel’s eyes go back and forth... back and forth between the two sights. Anxiety is doing little to help his situation and a mist of sweat begins to form on his skin the more the seconds tick by, making the innermost part of his suit much more uncomfortable and moist. A clock hangs by an awning nearby that displays the haunting time of 6:03 PM, just twenty-seven minutes shy of the designated 6:30 meeting time.

He glances one more time at the chase, swallowing a thick lump in his throat when he sees the vans hurdle full speed toward an open street of walking pedestrians, all ignorant of the fact to what beholds them in just mere seconds.

Miguel curses under his breath.

It’ll only be this for today, no more after that.

Fatigued eyes go to watch as the last people leave the restaurant, leaving you isolated in your little corner both embarrassed and hungry due to the heavy lack of food served on your platter for tonight. The other waiters begin to scrub the tables and booths free of crumbs and topple the chairs onto them, indicating that tonight has drawn to its close. You think you’ve memorized the entirety of the menu at this point, considering it’s really all you’ve been averting your eyes towards to avoid the looks of others.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see the waiters and waitresses pitifully gossiping about you and a heat flashes onto your face by how incredibly desolate you’ve looked in the past three hours. Internally, you thank them for their patience and how they’ve tolerated your excuses for your date’s tardiness-turned-absence, knowing that it must be a pain to look after someone that hadn’t even ordered anything besides water for the time she had been here.

You don’t even wait for your waitress to come to your table for the nth time tonight, going by your own initiative to pack up your things. Your phone is still devoid of any notifications from Miguel, as well, even after the four calls, occasional text checkups, and last minute voicemailed question of a needed rescheduling if he so desired.

What remains is just a grayed out Read, 7:47 PM underneath all the text bubbles.

“I… sincerely apologize if I loitered at all,” you murmur with your head half-down to the young host who shuffles the menus back into the lectern. “This was truly the last thing that I had expected from him…”

You instantly take back that statement the moment it leaves your lips. If anything, you should’ve known that this would’ve happened. Foolish you were—you’ve been with Miguel for the past three years, this was everyday behavior for him. You suppose this is how Gabriella must feel constantly and another heartache pits itself within you at the shared feeling.

The host shakes his head sympathetically. “You wouldn’t be our first case, I’m sure you didn’t have any ill intent. If anything, I’m the one sorry that he made you wait that long,” he replies with evident pity. “Whoever he is, he must be a dick for leaving such a pretty thing like you alone all night, ma’am.”

“Oh, he’s—” you fall short on your words, not even having the energy to sorely defend Miguel’s name. “Never mind…” you mutter.

“Do you need a cab?” asks the host, “Well actually, I’m about to clock out for tonight. I can drive you home, if you want. It’s the least I can do for you after tonight.”

You’re about to reply to him to turn down the offer, as you suspect he’s the type of guy to use women in these situations to his advantage, but the doors suddenly burst open to reveal the one and only in a hazy state and what seems to… flowers clutched in his hands? The petals, however, are corrugated and some have even completely drooped down from their stem. The paper that is supposed to guard them is wrinkled and torn at the corners. Almost all of the bouquet is wilted, much like your own composure for tonight.

Miguel isn’t much better. Hair and clothes a little damp, he’s frazzled and evidently guilty, as his face pales when he sees your contrasting appearance. You’re adorned in an a-lined, half-sleeved royal blue dress that made you look so regal in comparison to your daily white blouse-black pants outfit that he's seen too much of. Not to mention additional details of your styled hair and accessories just brought out the best of your beauty that was wasted on essentially nothing this evening.

“Mr. O’Hara…” you breathe when he passes through the door. The first thing that you notice automatically when his face properly comes into view is a sharply jagged, yet thin cut on the side of his cheek. “Did someth—”

“(Y/N), I’m so… so sorry,” he chokes out. “Something c-came up at work and they asked me to help them out… I’m sorry, I know I should’ve said no, but they were kind of on my ass about it and I got so caught up with it, so I wasn’t able to text you and—”

“She waited three hours,” the host drones and juts his thumb toward the dining area where all the chairs are laid atop the tables. Its lights flicker out, leaving only the foyer and smaller hallways lit so dismally in the night. “Until closing. She didn’t order anything in the meantime, so not only you left her alone tonight, you left her alone and hungry.”

“Hey listen, bud,” Miguel snaps at the host. He points a finger at him with irate in his eyes. “Not your business, so stay out of it.”

The host scoffs with a smirk on his face. “Not the first time I’ve heard that and certainly not the first time I’ve seen this happen. Guys like you always—”

You raise a hand to stop their bickering, afraid of what might happen if things escalate further as you really didn’t desire to do anything more than just sleep off your feelings. Both men stop and turn to look at you with concern on their faces.

“Do you still need that ride home?”

“Are you still hungry?”

A frustrated head shake finally silences the both of them.

“I’m fine, thank you for the offer, though,” you say quietly to the host. You turn to Miguel, who swallows at the sight of your tired eyes. “May we talk outside? I’d hate to stay here any longer than I need to.”

Miguel attempts to excuse himself one more time, but when you begin to pace yourself toward the door without waiting for him, he realizes he can’t exactly make any more decisions of his own any more this evening. Not after choosing his heroic duties again and again for tonight instead of tending to you.

The moon and stars tonight have made their presence with the special guest of light rain coming in for a visit. The whisper of a drizzle ghosts itself on your goosebumps skin and the chill of a wind nips at your flesh.

Miguel is quick to follow you. “I’m really sorry again, (Y/N),” he utters so softly that it makes your heart ache with familiarity. It’s the same tone of voice he’s used with Gabriella when at times, he wasn’t able to make it to her events or practices like he promised. “Are you still hungry by any chance? I know a good 24/7 diner that’s pretty close here.”

Without turning around, you politely shake your head and begin to search for any cabs coming your way. “I’ll be okay. I think I have some leftovers in the fridge that can suffice.”

The thought of you eating alone like he did on a night that you shouldn’t be sends shivers of guilt down Miguel’s spine. He curses himself at his past actions—deciding that it was stupid to catch those robbers who didn’t even put up much of a fight, to stop that gang brawl that was happening on the corner of 5th that was resolved the moment the elderly shopkeeper began to yell, to help that old lady that was certainly taking her sweet time to cross the street. They were such unbelievably mild crimes that he didn’t need to attend to, but did anyway even with the thought of you in mind.

Perhaps he should’ve had more faith in technology, because he’s sure Lyla was going to have much fun taunting him for the rest of the week.

“You can keep the flowers, too,” you say softly when a cab begins to pull up. “I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t think I have a vase to store them in unfortunately.”

Miguel’s grip on the dismal bouquet tightens, not even trying to fight your refusal as you get into a cab. He stops the door from closing just as you’re about to, trying one last time to make up for his actions.

“At least let me pay for your cab,” Miguel whispers.

You know he’s sorry. You can see in his eyes the familiar gleam of woe that he’s given to his daughter. Your eyes go to flicker at the cut again, but you know that if you ask, he’s sure to give one his many excuses because it isn’t the first time he’s shown up with an injury before. And you don’t want to put yourself through that wall of verbal familiarity.

With sorrow gentleness, you pry his fingers off the edge of the car and shut it, putting a physical barrier between you and Miguel. The eyes of the driver goes to pitifully glance at your state before beginning to rev up the engine.

You don’t even have the courage to share a glance towards Miguel one last time before the cab begins to drive off—your wallow of disappointment is deep enough as it is.

The rest of the week is agonizingly slow; Miguel dares to say it’s torturous, even.

He’s thankful you’re still acknowledging his existence and talking with him, but your conversations lack the usual warmth and gentle playfulness they often had. It was already lonely enough dealing with the lack of a third person like him at home, but the feeling of isolation felt even more scarring this time because when he came home late after your babysitting session, you didn’t bother with small talk with him, the only thing that made him realize he didn't have to do everything by himself alone.

You didn’t ask how the late shift was, how were the bosses treating him, if he was getting enough rest… no, you only kept him updated on his daughter's schoolwork and any future events regarding her and her only. Your words never included him or you, only finishing off with a goodbye and have a nice night.

At least you were still kind enough to fix him the usual leftovers.

Work itself wasn’t much better. Conversations were brief and the lab in which you two worked privately was filled with silence that was only broken with the occasional demands and directions of lab work. Sometimes a forced cough would sneak its way through Miguel’s lips if the silence began to disturb him too much. He attempted to make some at the beginning, asking how your day was and whether your father was on your tail again, but he was met with short, sharp responses.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Perhaps.”

“I’m not sure.”

Never have such words been so agonizing before. Ironic that they are because Miguel often hated it when people rambled and preferred it when conversations got to the point. He supposes, though, you get to the point too fast for his liking nowadays.

When he tried bringing up an explanation for Sunday’s events, you’d quickly shut it down as tenderly as possible, saying things along the lines of “It’s alright, your schedule is hectic. I can understand.” or “I just hope your work didn’t give you too much trouble.” You’re so polite about it that it hurts him. Miguel would much rather have you lash out and insult him than have you soften the landing that does barely anything to ease him because it feels like you’ve put on that mask you put in front of others—professional and orderly—and Miguel didn’t want to be seen as just a mere coworker, let alone your boss, to you.

His pride bites at his ankles. Lies coming out of his lips too regularly, he had to fib to Gabriella the morning after her sleepover when she asked about the date that you had fallen sick and weren’t able to make it. The disappointment on her face mimicked yours too eerily. She asked him if they were going to reschedule it. Miguel could only shrug his shoulders—he wasn’t even sure if you wanted anything to do with him after that event.

At least nothing changed with you and his daughter. He’d still home to an apartment with you helping with homework or her helping with dinner or tucking her into bed. That’s all he could ask for right now.

Miguel still had the chance to redeem himself this week. There was the annual banquet held at a banquet hall to celebrate the yearly achievements Alchemax and those associated had accomplished, as well as discussing major plans for the future. It was a boring, yet formal event used for connections and idle chatter, something Miguel usually didn’t look forward to. Lyla suggested to him to convince you to go and that Gabriella would just have a one-time babysitter while you got to enjoy (or in your case, put up) with his company as he redeemed himself best as possible. You’re not one to talk with others you’ve never met, so he knew that you would most likely stick by his side for a sense of familiarity.

It took a while, but you murmured you’d go under your breath to shake him off your tail. Miguel was elated, but it was quickly shut down halfheartedly by the reminder that you were still somewhat upset by Sunday’s incident, saying you’d take a cab to the banquet instead of driving with him like he offered.

No matter, as long as you were there by his side.

Miguel made sure that this time, he’d be out the door much earlier than the last, promising to never keep you waiting longer than a minute. A text on his phone pings that you’re near the back entrance, where the parking lot was so it’d be easier to find you. He swerves a little too harshly into the lot—either from nervousness or excitement or both—at the mention and had spotted you near the staircase adorned in a floor-length blushed, ivory pink halter gown with luminescent tulle, making you look like the human embodiment of an ocean pearl.

His eyes are so fixed on you that he didn’t realize he almost knocked himself straight into an oncoming BMW. The owner, a crabby old man he recognizes from human resources, swears and honks at him, making Miguel hide his face before hurriedly parking a little more safely.

When he approaches you, he drinks you in your full glory. Everything about you is so fresh… so exhilarating. You’ve done your hair with a couple of clips this time, with more subtle jewelry this time. Your makeup looks tidy and perfect and Miguel enjoys the way it emphasizes your best features instead of morphing them. If only he was wiser on Sunday, he would’ve been able to savor a different version of you in blue.

Nevertheless, you still manage to take his breath away with just a simple breath like you always have. It’s just that it was only recently had Miguel realized you had that ability and he’d be alright experiencing it again and again if it was with you.

“Mr. O’Hara?” you say and wave a soft wave in front of his face to break his trance. Somehow, you begin to grow self-conscious. Perhaps he didn’t like it? Maybe it was too revealing… the slit at the halter neckline did somewhat peek at your cleavage and you weren’t used to baring your shoulders out. “I-is everything okay?”

Miguel blinks a couple of times. His surroundings finally come into focus like your figure, making him realize how long he had been staring. “Apologies. I… never got to tell you this on Sunday, but I hope to do it now, (Y/N)... ” he clears his throat and straightens his posture, remembering to act everything out as practiced, before softly whispering with evident fondness that, “You look beautiful, tonight.”

A spark of surprise shocks your features for a brief moment, before your usual modesty is displayed again. Eye contact is broken, for you can’t fathom the thought of someone like Miguel O’Hara, favored in every possible way, would be complimenting you so casually. “Oh um. Thank you,” you choke out halfheartedly.

Miguel leans over slightly over your figure and tucks a lock of stray hair behind your ear. If he wanted to truly make up for what happened, he was going to have to go all out tonight, even if that meant rocketing out of his comfort zone. He just barely catches you hitching a breath at the semi-intimate of physical contact as he tries his best to hide his own when he murmurs in your ear again.

“I’m not saying it out of manners, I’m saying it factually,” he mumbles, eyeing the passersby that stare in wonder at you. Some ego swells inside of him at the jealous looks that are given to him. “You’ve bewitched me and many others already.”

You stray your gaze away at him with your hands fiddling at the skirt of your dress. “You didn’t have to, but thank you for the dress, by the way,” you murmur timidly. “I’ve never heard of a brand called Lyla, but I admit, this dress of theirs is rather nice.”

Miguel furrows his brows at the mention before Lyla briefly appears on your head, giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up before disappearing. It doesn’t take Miguel long to realize that Lyla had shipped something so pristine to you without his permission, though he supposes that she had done him and you a favor given how majestic you look tonight.

He lets out a soft breath of a chuckle before shaking his head. Maybe he’ll give her some upgrades in return.

You turn your head behind you, not knowing what he was looking at. “Is something wrong? Is there something in my hair?”

“No, no. Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts…” Miguel interjects before offering his arm to you. “We should get going. I’d hate for a dress like this to go to waste for only my eyes.”

Internally, Miguel wanted to be selfish. He wanted to be greedy and have you all for himself, savor your every move tonight, have you and him be the only ones in this place. He didn’t want anyone to look towards your direction and have you look at anyone else besides him. A little venomous thought of people not realizing you had so much more potential than they realized embeds in himself, and that their awe for tonight was too artificial. He wanted more and to give you more, but then again, he’s still Spider-Man at the end of the day, the impossible man that somehow does it all and faces the consequences head on. He can only offer a regular day citizen like you so much.

But for now, he’ll make do with what he can. Not as Spider-Man this time, but as Miguel O’Hara.

a/n ; hi yeah don't panic, there'll be a part three lmfao i lied lolol. most likely it'll be the last part to this little series i've got going, too, since i think making it a fully fledged series would kind of lead some things astray for me. that doesn't mean the end of the miggy o'hare writings, however! still will most definitely attempt to write for him bc bro's GLORIOUS

thank you all for the patience for part ii, and i hope to see that part iii comes out asap! i'll give updates for it as always, but in the meantime, thank you for reading and likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and infinitely appreciated ( ˘ ³˘) ♡ !

taglist ; @secretlyrexlapis @urbimom @p1nkliquor @julesclues @averagefloydlover @apurpletrashcan @toofsfairys @raeisthebae (for those with strikethroughs, i'm not able to tag you for some reason :(!)

#spider man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #atsv miguel #across the spider verse x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #fem!reader

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