#I’d do him into oblivion | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

joelsgoldrush · 1 month ago

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➽ summary: To love is to cherish, to endure, to fight. But to love is also to forget—at least, for you and Logan. Despite countless attempts to erase the part of yourselves that yearns to find completion in each other, you always end up back where it all began: the moment your eyes first met his—the moment everything changed.

➽ word count: 12.4k words

➽ warnings/tags: mdni smut 18+ angst. fluff. feels. enemies to lovers. petnames. multiple focalizors/POVs. memory loss. x1 logan. mutant!reader. flashbacks. dirty talk. oral (f and m receiving). fingering. thigh riding. unprotected p in v. missionary. doggy. creampie. cum swallowing.

➽ a/n: inspired by “eternal sunshine of the spotless mind”, one of the most hauntingly beautiful (and life-changing) films ever made. i took some creative liberties when it came to charles' powers, so just follow along. i’d love to know your thoughts on this one, hope you like it as much as i do! <3

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! The world forgetting by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. Each prayer accepted and each wish resigned.

Alexander Pope.

Logan thinks Jean is speaking to him, but her words dissolve into fragments, lost before they reach him. Her reddish lips shape the vowels and consonants with precision, yet the meaning is drowned out by the pulse in his ears. She’s agitated, her long strides barely matching his pace, heels striking the wooden floor in a staccato rhythm.

A few children peek their heads out from their rooms, curiosity tugging at their expressions as the tension unravels in the hallway. Had it always stretched this far into eternity? It feels as though he’s been walking it for centuries now.

If Jean Grey is the embodiment of grace and intellect, then Logan carries the weight of all the world’s stubbornness. It clings to him like a birthright. Defying her beliefs—or anyone’s—is as instinctual as breathing. She’s trying to dissuade him, to talk him out of this reckless act: asking Charles to meddle in what she’s called his personal issues. He suppresses the urge to roll his eyes, focusing instead on the steady cadence of his steps toward the man’s office, each one heavier with purpose.

Jean’s voice grows sharper, her warnings echoing in his mind. This is a mistake. You’ll regret it. You’ll want to undo it. Don’t be stupid, Logan. Don’t do this to her—don’t do this to yourself.

But her protests are futile. The cards have already been laid out. Only meters from the door, he comes to a sudden halt. Jean, caught mid-stride, almost stumbles into his back. For a fleeting moment, hope flickers across her face. Maybe, just maybe, she’s convinced him to reconsider. A tentative smile begins to form on her lips, until he turns to her with a look so unyielding, it steals the breath from her lungs.

She has never seen him like this. This resolute, this… haunted. His jaw is clenched, his brow furrowed so tightly it seems etched in stone. There’s no trace of relief or satisfaction in his expression. Only the grim determination of a man about to pass a point of no return.

Why is he doing this? Soon, there will be hands prying into his thoughts, a marauder pulling apart his memories. Think about her. Now think about this moment. What do you remember? Each memory bearing your name, inked into his unconscious, will be inspected, cataloged, and then erased.

A mind already scarred will be stripped even further, the void swallowing everything. It has to come from a place of self-loathing, he thinks, because no reasonable explanation suffices. Perhaps he’s always been this broken, this damaged, and it was only a matter of time before he sought refuge in the very solution that had once been his calvary.

“I’ve made my choice,” he says with a tilt of his head which aims to deliver a tacit message: stay back. Don’t follow me. I have to do this. I need to.

So this is what it feels like, he thinks to himself, to willingly want to forget, to crave oblivion. To stop caring.

His fist hovers over the door, but he doesn’t have to knock. Charles’s been waiting for him. His voice resonates behind Logan’s eyelids, calm and inescapable. Come in.

“Coward.”

That’s the last thing he hears before he steps into the office, leaving her behind.

The first time you saw him, he was a contained storm, seconds away from coming undone in front of a rather small audience. Hardly the most convenient introduction.

You were in Charles’ office, attending one of his Physics lessons—not because you needed to. He’d already taught you these principles long ago, in a different time, under different circumstances. But lately, Charles had been trying to delegate some of his responsibilities, hoping to carve out time for the pressing matters that demanded his full attention. Ever the sweetheart, you’d offered to help, stepping in to take over this class.

Which is why you spent those past few weeks studying him—not just his teaching style, but the way he presented the topics: the analogies he drew, the subtle inflections in his tone. You’d promised yourself perfection, committed to live up to his standard, and that was exactly what you were working toward.

The sound of a door slamming shattered the flow of the lesson. A man burst into the room as though escaping from some unseen predator, shutting the door with a loud, final thud. He didn’t turn to face you. Instead, he lingered by the door, chest pressed against it, his ragged breathing filling the silence. The students abandoned whatever fragments of attention they had left for the class—this new stranger was far more compelling.

And, truthfully, he’d caught your attention, too.

You hesitated, fists clenching slightly at your sides, bracing for something you couldn’t name. A familiar voice cut through your thoughts, grounding you: This is the man I’ve been telling you about.

Apparently, this was Logan Howlett in the flesh. You certainly didn’t expect Charles’ newest recruit to look like this.

“Good morning, Logan,” Charles greeted him when the man finally spun around. From this distance, you could see the tension carved into his features, the crease in his forehead betraying his distress. Charles, still composed, redirected his focus to the students. “I’d like your definitions of weak and strong anthropic principles on my desk on Wednesday, all right? That’ll be all.”

They didn’t need to be told twice, gathering their belongings in a flurry of notebooks and murmured goodbyes, barely sparing you a glance as they shuffled out. You offered them a tight-lipped smile, lifting a hand in acknowledgment, but your attention was drawn elsewhere. Logan was looking at you—or rather, through you—with a gaze that felt assessing. You never quite met his eye.

He stood there barefoot, dressed only in a sweater and sweatpants, his breath still uneven. Disoriented. His eyes swept across the room, his expression distant yet guarded, as though he was questioning the reality of it all. Considering the way he carried himself, it almost seemed like this was his first encounter with other mutants—but you knew better.

At some point, Charles decided to break the tension. “I’m Charles Xavier,” he began, his tone inviting. “Would you like some breakfast?”

But, of course, his cordiality and kindness were dismissed, being met with a gruff, “Where am I?”

“Westchester, New York,” Charles replied evenly, maneuvering his wheelchair closer. “You were attacked. My people brought you here for medical attention.”

You hadn’t been part of the mission that led to this moment; that had been Scott and Storm. In fact, you hadn’t even met Logan or the girl they’d brought with him—Rogue, as you later learned. Although at the time, rooted in the aftermath, you stepped forward, bridging the distance between yourself and Logan. You extended a hand toward him, offering your name with a cautious smile. “Nice to meet you.”

The gesture lingered awkwardly in the air, refusing even the pretense of acknowledgment. His eyes locked on yours, piercing and unrelenting, and for a brief moment, you wondered if this was his way of dissecting you. Then his gaze shifted back to Charles, impatience dripping from every word he uttered. “I don’t need medical attention. Where’s the girl?”

Oh. So that’s how he wants to play this. You withdrew your hand, doing your best to mask the sting of rejection as you pivoted on your heels and returned to your place beside Charles. “Jerk,” you muttered, low enough that it almost drowned beneath your breath, fussing with your sleeves in a vain effort to seem unaffected.

He didn’t miss it. His expression hardened, irritation flickering in his eyes. “Come again?”

To end the exchange right there, Charles cleared his throat, effectively steering the conversation into a different direction. Seizing the opportunity, he wheeled himself closer to the brown-haired man, his composure intact. What you admired about him was his self-control, something you’d tried to master in the years spent under his guidance without success. Yet, you couldn’t fathom how he managed not to tell Logan to just fuck off. “About Rogue, she’s doing fine.”

Logan arched a brow, his sneer cutting through the air like a blade. “Really?” You couldn’t grasp how he could hold so much bitterness toward a person he barely knew. His voice was thick with condescension, and a dozen sharp retorts swirled in your mind, each one eager to escape your lips. Your mouth parted to respond on Charles’ behalf, but he beat you to it.

“You’re in my school for the gifted. For mutants.” He paused, letting the weight of his words settle in the dense air. Even the act of breathing felt strained, a soundless tug-of-war for the air around you. “You do know you’re not the only one with gifts, don’t you?”

“Is that what you tell those kids?” Logan’s scoff was a window into his beliefs. “That they have gifts?”

“It’s no more than the truth.”

“Yeah? Truth my ass.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” The words escaped you before you could stop them, fury flaring in your chest. You stepped forward, the crackling heat of frustration coursing through your veins, ending in your fingertips. His blank stare only fanned the flames. “We took you in. We saved your life. How about showing a little fucking gratitude?”

Logan advanced, and his eyes bored into yours with a stinging glint of smugness. “I don’t remember asking to be saved.”

Your jaw tightened. You could’ve cracked a tooth as well. “Well, the least you can do is not act like a complete prick.”

A hand encircled your wrist, its grip firm but soothing. Charles’ touch anchored you, grounding you back in the moment. Your breath faltered, tearing your gaze away from Logan’s eyes to meet Charles’ calm expression.

“Don’t be so hard on our guest, my dear,” he murmured, as if the hostility in the room didn’t exist. It could’ve also been that he was too practiced at disarming it. He didn’t bother to glance at Logan, speaking as though the man was just a shadow. “Give him some time. He needs it.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you bowed your head. You sidestepped Logan without another word, avoiding his presence like he was a flame that threatened to scorch. The tension clung to your skin, and you flung the room.

From that day on, Logan becomes the only subject you seem capable of discussing.

It’s everything about him—his walk, his voice, the sheer audacity of his existence—that drives you to the brink of madness. You tell yourself to let it go, to not let it eat away at you, but your mind refuses to cooperate. Each day, it does a stellar job of reminding you that you now share the same roof as a man with forks for hands.

Logan is, undeniably, the source of your every frustration.

“He’s an idiot,” you grumble around a bite of your lunch, settling into one of the chairs in the kitchen. Scott, Ororo, and Jean are gathered around the table with you, savoring a rare break before the afternoon classes pull them back into their routines. “I can confirm it.”

“Trust me, we know,” Ororo snaps, her tone more cutting than you expected. The words catch you off guard, and you pause, napkin halfway to your lips, to lift your eyebrows in surprise. “Look, I’m sorry,” she continues, her voice softening just a fraction, “but could you please talk about something else? It’s been Logan this, Logan that, for weeks now.”

“I think I understand what she means,” Scott chimes in, his tone lighter, nearly playful. You lift your hand for a high five, and he obliges with a grin, stealing a laugh from you.

“See? He gets it!”

Leaning back in his chair, your friend shakes his head. “I must admit I don't like the guy either. He’s—”

Jean’s elbow shoots out, jabbing Scott in the ribs just as Logan crosses the kitchen threshold. Scott’s indignant “Hey!” is muffled by your exaggerated cough, though it does little to mask the smirk threatening to break across your face.

How does the saying go? Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

Logan’s eyes sweep across the room, his silence louder than the faint hum of the refrigerator. He strides toward the cupboard with methodical ease, and Storm bites her lip to stifle a laugh once she catches you watching him far longer than you should have. His back muscles tense and flex as he stretches his arms, the white tank clinging tighter with every movement.

“Please, don’t stop talking just because of me,” he remarks, his voice gravelly as he rummages through the cupboard, his focus presumably on some elusive snack. “Pretend I’m not even here.”

Your response comes out of instinct, words laced with irritation. “It’s hard not to,” you retort curtly, putting down your sandwich with a firm slap of your palms against your jeans.

That gets his attention. Logan turns around to confront you, a flicker of amusement twitching at the edges of his mouth. It’s that toothy smile of his that sets your blood simmering. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

You jump to your feet, matching his intensity. “Such a pity I can’t say the same about you.” Without missing a beat, you step closer, snatching the bag of chips he’s holding. Hiding them behind your back, tilting your head in mock innocence, and then saying, “Oops.”

His brows draw upward, though his tone stays measured, as if speaking to a child. “C’mon,” he replies, making a half-hearted grab for the bag. “How old are you? Twelve?”

Unable to suppress the grin threatening to break free, you rest your back against the counter. “We both know you can do much better than that.”

Already preparing yourself for the lecture Ororo’s going to unload on you the moment he leaves, you watch as Logan exhales sharply. His irritation is palpable in the way he leans in, one hand planting itself on the counter behind you, his frame eclipsing yours. The proximity is electric, his scent, a mix of leather and something woodsy, fogging your senses. Hazel eyes, so deep you could drown in them, peer down at you, as he attempts to strip away every layer you’re desperately trying to hold together.

Safe to say, it’s working. Damn it.

“Alright,” he finally says, tapping his fingers against the cool surface. “What do you want from me?”

Your galloping heartbeat is a major detail you choose to ignore, instead turning to the others for support. With an exaggerated motion, you point to each of your friends in turn. “Ororo and Scott were the ones who found you that day,” you start, trailing off, “and Jean ran a ton of tests on you to make sure you were okay. Have you even bothered to thank them for their hospitality?”

You believe you can joke with him—it’s how you usually bond with others, how most of your friendships have started. But you can’t help questioning if Logan can even get your sense of humor. The room falls silent, and his eyes flicker, just briefly, to your friends.

“You’re right, you’re right. My bad, princess.” One of his big, manly lands on your shoulder, the pressure of it too casual, too familiar, working the muscle there. Your fingers slacken around the bag of chips, the feeling of his touch making it harder to maintain your grip. “Guys, I’m deeply sorry for my lack of amiability. Hope you can forgive me.” The sarcasm is thick in his voice, but it’s the sensation that clings to you, that doesn’t seem to fade—the warmth of it seeping through the layers of your clothes, pressing into your skin, stubbornly refusing to fade.

His hand leaves only when he yanks the bag from your grasp, and the warmth that had been just beside you evaporates with his retreat. In an instant, he’s already pulling away, his parting words a careless “See you around,” tossed over his shoulder.

No one dares to speak after that. Because to speak would be to acknowledge what has just happened. Your stomach has turned into a knot, that kind of knot sailors make that are impossible for beginners to undo. Logan’s fingers left a burn in your shoulder. Can you still smell him, the trail he left? Scott is the first to speak after a minute or so. “What… was that?”

“I have no clue,” Jean says between bites, staring reflectively at you. “Care to elaborate?”

Your tongue feels heavy, your throat parched. Even if you tried, a rational explanation wouldn’t come.

Ever since you were a child, you had yearned to grow up, to experience love as only adults could. In your young, unformed mind, it all seemed like a simple equation: adults dated; adults embraced love in the flesh; adults reveled in freedoms that children could only dream of, waiting patiently for their time to come.

And you did grow up. You did fall in love. But now he’s forgotten you, and nothing could have prepared you for that kind of ending. It wasn’t the closure you would have chosen, not the goodbye you imagined for you and Logan.

You find yourself caught in the in-between—not quite a child, yet not fully an adult either. Because surely, an adult would know how to handle this pain. An adult would find a way to cope. But you feel small. Weak. Hopeless.

It leaves you wondering just how much you are willing to forsake.

More weeks go by, and Logan remains in the mansion, defying the departure you’d expected. Part of you is relieved. He moves through the halls like a shadow, his eyes always on Rogue: checking on her, observing her interactions with the rest of the students at the mansion. She’s thriving, really. Blending in with her peers, forming bonds, especially with a boy named Billy. They are quite the pair.

Yet, despite Rogue’s happiness, Logan can’t seem to shake the grim air that surrounds him, an aura that emanates a quiet kind of disgust.

One night, you’re flipping through channels in the living room, stopping when an old love movie catches your attention. You place the remote down on a cushion, and pull your knees up to your chest, the murmur of the characters’ voices the only sound in the otherwise hushed room. You don’t think anyone else is awake at this hour.

“Can’t sleep?”

There he is again. Always intruding, always finding his way back to you. The predator creeping into the vixen’s nest. He moves closer, slowly, and you lift your gaze to him, replying, “Actually, I’m a sleepwalker.”

Your comment earns a half-smile from Logan as he drops onto the couch beside you, his leg brushing against yours momentarily, worn denim against bare skin. His attention shifts to the TV, to the grainy images of the film playing out. You steal a glance at him, tracing the hard lines of his side profile.

“Feelin’ romantic tonight?” he asks.

“Not precisely,” you retort, fingers toying with the frayed edges of the blanket pooled at your feet. “There’s nothing else on. Sometimes you have to make do with what’s there.” Your gaze drifts back to him, lingering just a second too long before you add, “What about you? Any ghosts keeping you up?”

“You could call them that,” he says after a pause, his face still angled away. It must be easier to speak to you with this thin, invisible wall between you. “I have nightmares.”

“So you’re the one screaming at two in the morning?”

“Exactly. That’s me.” He ends up meeting your gaze, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, harboring an emotion he doesn’t voice. “M’sorry if I ever woke you up.”

“I’m usually awake at that time, too.” Your eyes flick to the screen. The couple in the movie bursts out of a building into the rain, their body language unmistakably revealing the heated argument unfolding between them. The man, clad in a raincoat, removes it to cover the woman, his supposed girlfriend. She’s visibly upset, but accepts the gesture nevertheless. “You can always knock on my door if you need anything. Unless I’m snoring—then I’ll be useless.”

Logan clicks his tongue, his focus shifting to the film as well. The man shouts, ‘Because I love you, for God’s sake!’ He casts a glimpse in your direction, his expression unreadable. “Same goes for you.” The woman in the film responds with a strangled, ‘Then prove it!’

“Anytime?”

“Anytime.”

The man cradles the woman’s face before kissing her. She throws her arms around his neck, and the music swells, evolving into a much more melodic song. A chorus of angelic voices replaces the earlier tense harmony. The camera lingers on every angle of their kiss, every desperate touch, as the world outside their embrace ceases to exist.

“This is cheesy,” Logan mutters, his heel bumping against the floor in repeated, short motions. Is he nervous?

“Yeah, so cheesy,” you reply quickly, pulling the blanket over your lap and curling into yourself. He doesn’t look like he’s thinking about kissing you, not even remotely, but you are.

A quiet yawn escapes you, and you rub your fist against your eyes, sleep beginning to take over your body. Logan catches it, his own yawn following like a reflex. “Looks like the movie’s workin’ wonders,” he quips.

You let out a drowsy giggle. “Shut up,” you murmur, but then he’s inching closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. His warmth seeps through, and after a few seconds of hesitation, you allow yourself to lean into his frame, resting your head on his arm. It’s awkward, your neck already protesting the angle, but you accept it. You’ll take the stiffness tomorrow without complaint, because this moment is worth it.

It won’t last long, though, this rare tenderness. These nights, the quiet ones, are when Logan opens up the most—when Jean and Storm aren’t around, when it’s just the two of you. That’s when he approaches you, like a wary black cat testing the waters. But he doesn’t need to tread carefully. Not with you.

“What if I were to fall asleep… hypothetically?” Your eyelids grow heavier with each blink, the pauses between each one stretching longer. Your cheek nuzzles against him, seeking warmth, and you feel the subtle tug of his hand as he pulls the blanket over his legs as well.

“Hypothetically,” he begins, rasping his words near your temple, “I wouldn’t mind.”

Within moments, sleep claims you. You never find out what happens after that, but he stays, trailing quietly behind. No nightmares or shadows from his past dare to haunt him that night.

It was inevitable that an encounter like that would spiral into something more. You weren’t naïve. You could connect the dots, and the picture was clear: Logan wanted you, too. Desire often walked a fine line, and from hatred to something else, it’s hardly a leap—just a small, barely perceptible step. It could change with the shift of light, from dawn to dusk. But you’d need the strength to cross that line, to be bold enough to make the first move.

And now, with the sun already dipped below the horizon, taking its long-awaited rest after a full day of burning up in the sky, you find yourself alone in the kitchen, though you hadn’t started that way. Scott had lingered for a while, insisting he didn’t mind keeping you company. You’d thanked him with a polite smile before subtly nudging him out. It hadn’t taken much—just a few hints. Simplicity at its finest.

At the table, a neat pile of student papers spreads before you. Your pen dances across the pages, leaving corrections and grades in its wake. It’s then that he appears. He doesn’t speak at first, but his presence saturates the room like a shadow stretching across the floor. You don’t need to turn around to know it’s him; it must be the unspoken familiarity of how he fills a space. Or maybe it’s just how attuned you’ve become to his every movement.

Logan leans in behind you, close enough that you feel the heat he radiates at your back. His low hum sends a shiver down your spine as he peers over your shoulder. “Don’t you think it’s a bit late to be playin’ the teacher?”

Your grip on the pen tightens, a small tremor in your fingers giving away the tension pooling in your stomach. You exhale softly, blowing on the fresh ink. “Would you prefer to have me doing something else?”

Smugness prickles at the edges of your words, but the resolve in your chest is faltering.

“Now that you mention it…” His voice dips, grating next to the shell of your ear as his chest brushes your back. His presence is magnetic, the scrape of his beard scratching your skin while he tilts your head to one side. His fingers sweep your hair over your shoulder, lips mapping the nape of your neck, tasting your fevered skin. “I might have a few ideas in mind.”

Your breath hitches. You try for composure, but it wavers in your reply. “Really?” you ask, because playing dumb always has its merits, after all. “Want to show me?”

He doesn’t answer right away. His hand moves deliberately, tracing a sensual, teasing path up your abdomen. His palm settles over one of your breasts, his thumb brushing the sensitive peak through your sweater. “I don’t think you’d want me to do it here,” he says, his voice thick with suggestion. “Too public for what I’ve got planned for you.”

You disentangle yourself from him, slipping off the chair with an unsteady grace, but Logan doesn’t give you time to find your feet. He smashes his lips with yours, the force of his kiss almost sending you reeling. His tongue presses insistently, seeking entry, as if the urgency in his touch could dissolve every barrier between you. He grabs your cheeks, holding you in place as though you might slip away, drawing you so close there’s barely space to breathe.

You’re caught off guard, not knowing where to put your hands, searching for purchase. The cold metal of the refrigerator handle digs into your lower back as he backs you against it, his groans reverberating through your mouth like a growled confession.

“My bedroom,” you manage to gasp between kisses. “Take me to my bedroom.”

Logan obliges, intertwining his fingers with yours. Together, you ascend the stairs, your laughter mingling in the noiseless night when he missteps and stumbles, momentarily breaking the spell. But he recovers quickly, finding your room in mere seconds.

The door clicks shut behind you, and he presses you against the wood with a force you’d never experienced, his hands sliding down to grip your ass and knead the supple flesh with a possessive fervor. It all helps to feed the fire pooling in your core.

“Quiet, baby,” he whispers, slipping his fingers beneath the back of your sweatpants. His nails trace fiery lines along your skin, igniting your every nerve. “Don’t want anyone wakin’ up to those pretty sounds you make. They’re just for me, right?”

You nod frantically, longing for more, arching into his hands as your hips grind against his, your body moving with a will of its own. The friction is exquisite, a tantalizing promise. “Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters, his words laced with unfiltered hunger. “I’ve thought about havin’ you like this ever since I met you.”

His confession sends a surge of pride through your chest, an ache that feels equal parts affection and astonishment. Ever since the beginning? When he could barely look at you without scowling, his disdain practically tangible? “You hid it well,” you reply, breathless as you trace the outline of his erection over his jeans. The way it twitches under your undivided attention makes your pulse race. “I thought you hated me.”

He lets out a huff of laughter. “I thought the same about you,” he counters, before crushing his lips to yours once more. This time, you can’t help but smile into the kiss, your bodies moving as one, the pent-up tension between you unraveling in waves. “Guess we were both wrong.”

Your pants hit the floor in an unceremonious heap. It should embarrass you, how desperate and utterly needy you sound, the pleas spilling from your lips like the filthiest confessions. But the hunger in you is too vast, too insistent, drowning any possible flicker of shame. Decency was abandoned the moment you crossed that threshold. Logan nudges your legs apart with his knee, and the instant you feel him against your center, a contained sigh escapes you, half-resignation, half-surrender. Thought dissolves, leaving only instinct as you rock against him in slow circles, seeking relief.

“When was the last time someone took care of you?” He toys lazily with the waistband of your panties, like he has all the time in the world. You don’t give him an immediate answer, choosing instead to grind harder against his thigh, your breath hitching at the pressure. “Don’t go all shy on me now, sweetheart,” he says, dipping his head to mouth at your collarbone, the scent of his cologne heady and intoxicating. “Judging by the way you’re basically humpin’ me, I’d say it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“I don’t remember,” you blurt out, your head thudding against the door when his teeth nip at the delicate curve of your neck. Your pulse thrums beneath his lips, and you’re seconds from biting your tongue just to keep from crying out. “Stop teasing.”

Logan’s lips quirk up into a wicked smile against your skin, his knee retreating only to be replaced by his fingers, trailing them along the fabric covering your heat. “I like it when you get bossy. It reminds me why I like you so damn much.” He tugs the fabric of your underwear aside, the cool air hitting your wetness for only a moment before his fingers glide over your arousal, testing your patience. One digit slides into you, curling slightly as his palm presses over your mouth, muffling the whine that falls from your parted lips. “So wet for me, princess.”

Your legs shake under the weight of sensation, threatening to give out as you lean into the door for balance. His fingers move inside you with a sharp rhythm, hitting that spot with each furious thrust. The pressure builds, hot and insistent, and it’s overwhelming, but then he drops to his knees, and the sight alone sends a jolt through your core.

The first drag of his tongue along your folds is molten. He laps at you with long strokes, his pace never faltering, pumping his digits in sync with the flick of his tongue, coaxing every sound you’ve tried so hard to stifle. “Oh, fuck. Logan—”

He groans against your core, his eyes remaining locked on your face, soaking in every flicker of pleasure that crosses your features. His focus is relentless, as though your reactions fuel him. You rake your hands through his hair, clutching at his dark locks with haste whenever his wet muscle lavishes extra attention on your clit, the intensity of his ministrations making your voice break, a choked gasp dying on your lips.

Your climax teeters on the edge, faster than you anticipated. “Close,” you manage to huff, the obscene noises he elicits driving you wild. “I’m gonna come. Please, come here—”

Logan detaches himself from you, standing tall with a fierce determination in his eyes. He’s set on pushing you over the edge with his fingers alone. His lips crash against yours, biting and licking, swallowing every desperate mewl that falls from your mouth, spit glistening down his chin. Three knuckles deep, coaxing your body to respond, your walls tighten around him, shuddering as he corners you against the door, the sharp edge of pleasure sending your knees buckling. Your orgasm washes over you, rendering you boneless in his hold. Limp and spent, you can barely return his kisses, panting harshly against his mouth, his arms the only thing keeping you from collapsing.

As you steady your breath, a satisfied smile tugs at your lips. Your eyes flicker down to his slick palm, and a rush of pride floods you. "That was amazing," you breathe, your fingers, trembling slightly with anticipation, reaching for his belt to tug at it. “My turn now.”

He ends up with his back pressed against the headboard, his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. You’re positioned between his legs, stimulating him over the fabric of his boxers. “It won’t take too long,” he says, and you feel the weight of his words more than hear them as you pull him free, revealing the hardness beneath. He’s already swollen, the tip wet with precum that coats your thumb as you stroke him once, feeling the heat pulse beneath your touch. A shiver runs through him, his legs stiffening as though on the edge of restraint. Bewitched by the size of him, you lean forward to slip the leaking head past your lips. “Jesus Christ.”

It’s difficult to take all of him at once, but you push through, your mouth stretching to accommodate his size. As you work him with your hand, your tongue traces the veins that snake along his length, feeling him throb. Logan’s body betrays him, his fists tightening around the sheets as if holding on to his last thread of control, desperately keeping his hips still, resisting the urge to fuck up into you.

“Honey, pull out,” he warns, stroking your back. “M’not jokin’. You’re gonna make me come.” But you don’t stop. Instead, you deepen your movements, cheeks hollowing as you take him with more enthusiasm, pushing him toward the back of your throat. When he realizes what you’re doing, a moan escapes him, laced with a dark laugh. “Filthy girl. So that’s what you want? To choke on my cum? Should’ve asked for it sooner.”

Not long afterwards, you feel the first splash of his release hitting your tastebuds. Ropes of his seed flood your mouth, some of it dribbling out to stain the corner of your lips. He watches, his thumb gently swiping over the edge, collecting what’s spilled, his eyes never leaving yours as he moves.

“Show me,” he asks, still breathless. You lean closer, your faces a whisper apart, and then you part your lips, revealing the evidence of your devotion like a masterpiece on display. His fingers find your chin, holding you there as he bites into his lower lip, the pressure turning the skin pale. “Now swallow,” he commands, and you obey, the motion deliberate, your satisfaction mirrored in the curve of his grin. He kisses you languidly, as if savoring the moment. “Where have you been all my life?”

The question invites countless answers, but you choose to murmur, “Down the hallway.”

“Logan, are you even listening?”

Charles’ voice slices through the playful moment, forcing Logan’s hands to still against your sides. The team sits around the table, embroiled in serious discussions that demand focus and discipline. Yet Logan’s fixation on you has rendered him deaf to anything beyond the sound of your laughter. Not a single word of the last hour and a half has stuck, his mind entirely preoccupied by the warmth of you perched on his lap.

He’d insisted he was much more comfortable than any chair, and you’d indulged him, leaning into his chest as his fingers danced teasingly along your ribs. “Of course I am,” Logan drawls, though the way his hand resumes tracing lazy circles on your stomach says otherwise, his entire attention remaining fixed on you.

“I don’t think you are,” Charles counters, leaning forward with both palms flat on his desk. His sharp gaze locks to you, narrowing faintly. “Do I need to seat you two on opposite ends of the room, or can you manage to behave?”

You stiffen in response, the easy comfort of moments ago evaporating. Sliding off Logan’s lap, you settle into the nearest chair, your departure catching him off guard. Your eyes meet his subtly, and you offer him an apologetic smile. Beneath the table, your fingers squeeze his knee, a silent reassurance. Finally, you direct your attention to Charles, straightening in your seat as if to demonstrate your newfound focus.

Logan, however, is less cooperative. His arms cross over his chest, and a crease forms between his brows, the picture of rebellion. Nothing that Charles says registers in his brain. All he can think about is how much better it felt to have you on his lap, where you weren’t bothering anyone. He contents himself with watching you now, contemplating your profile and the way your fingers absentmindedly tap against your notebook.

He sighs, leaning back in his chair. It’s not the same. You’ve been dating for a month, much to the surprise of everyone in the mansion. It’s as if the idea of the two of you together had never even crossed their minds. Not even Rogue believed it when she came to ask Logan if the rumors were true. He hadn’t known how to respond to her, caught between mirth and disbelief himself.

It’s been decades since he’s felt this alive. He’s head over heels for you in a way that’s exhilarating. Seeing you, even across a crowded room, lights a fire in him, and he has to actively fight the urge to walk over, pull you close, and kiss you senseless right there in front of your friends.

As the meeting finally draws to a close, Charles asks him to stay for a while. “I just need to have a quick word with you,” he says, waiting until the others leave.

Once you’re out of earshot, Charles sighs, shaking his head like an exhausted parent addressing his wayward child. “Look, I’m glad you two worked through your differences,” he begins, a note of cautious joviality in his tone, “but this... well, this is the opposite of that.”

Logan exhales wearily, rolling his eyes before he can stop himself, and regretting it instantly. Don’t shrug him off, his inner voice scolds him. “C’mon, Charles. You’re overreactin’.”

The man arches a brow. “Am I? Watching the two of you cuddling during a meeting feels like chaperoning teenagers. Honestly, I must admit you’re even worse than them at times.”

That remark lands harder than Logan expects. He opens his not-so-smart-mouth, ready with a retort, but no words come out. For once, his quick wit fails him, leaving him standing there in uncharacteristic silence.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Charles’ eyes fall shut. “Just… try to be more present, alright? And don’t distract her, or yourself, too much. That’s all I’m asking for.”

Later, when he recounts the conversation to you, you start pacing nervously across his bedroom, your teeth worrying at your nails.

“Maybe he’s right,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

“Darlin’—”

“I just don’t want him to be angry with us,” you cut him off, arms dropping to your sides in defeat. Turning toward him, you sit down on the edge of his bed, your shoulder brushing his as your eyes bore into the carpet. “Do you think we should... give each other some space?”

Your suggestion feels like a punch to his gut. He sits up straighter, hands finding their way to your hips as he guides you onto his lap, your thighs bracketing his waist. “I think we’re fine the way we are,” he says, tipping his forehead against yours, his nose brushing yours in a loving gesture, coaxing a small smile from you. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Are you happy with me?”

You nod—once, twice, like it’s the only answer you could possibly give. “I love you,” you whisper, the words trembling, your lips curving into a smile that he feels against his own when he kisses you.

“God,” he grumbles against your mouth, long fingers tightening on your hips. “I never get tired of hearin’ that.” Logan cups your ass through your clothes, rocking you against him, and a groan escapes his throat as your center presses against his half-hard cock. “Say it again,” he rasps, his voice wanting.

“I love you,” you breathe, your head falling back when his hands move to unbutton your shirt, his touch reverent and greedy all at once. “I love you so much.”

Before you know it, he’s rolled you onto your back, hovering above you as he peels away the layers between you. He can’t comprehend how he got so lucky, how he gets to have you like this every day, so pliant and eager beneath his body. Your whimpers grow softer, more airy, but even then, you’re still whispering how madly in love you are with him.

This is a memory he’ll hold on to when Charles inevitably asks him to reconsider—to think about what’s best for both you and him. Fragile moments like this will slip through his fingers, but for now, they’re his to cherish.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

It turns out that love doesn’t come neatly wrapped in perfection. No—it’s a chaotic blend of tender glances and fiery clashes, of whispered promises and cutting comebacks. It’s arguments that sting as much as they heal, moments that don’t glitter but still matter, making the difference.

“Fuck off!” you snap, shoving the door against its frame, trying to shut him out. But Logan’s hand wedges in the gap, his strength effortlessly outmatching yours. “Get out, Logan.”

“No.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” he grits through clenched teeth, pushing the door open and stepping inside. Behind him, Jean calls your name, but he doesn’t turn. “Not now, Jean!” His voice echoes down the hall, and the sound of her retreating steps leaves the air tense.

You’ve already crossed the room, standing by the window. The sunlight filters through, painting your silhouette in warm flickers. Outside, the kids are in their break, passing a ball, their laughter carried by the breeze. Logan moves toward you, his presence heavy, and you hold up a hand to stop him.

“I’m going on that mission,” you say firmly.

“No, you’re not.”

Your head snaps toward him, a storm unraveling in your gaze. “Charles wants me there. The team wants me there,” you shoot back, jabbing a finger into his chest with each word, “and most importantly, I want to go. You don’t get to decide for me.”

Logan doesn’t step back, doesn’t flinch. He can’t understand how you don’t see his side of things, how the thought of you being in danger like this twists his insides into knots. “I can’t lose you.”

“Logan—”

“No, you don’t get it!” The words burst out of him. “What if something happens to you? What if you get hurt, and we can’t get you back in time?” His fists clench at his sides, fighting the need to pull you into his arms, to feel that you’re still here with him, still safe. “It’d kill me, because I love you with everything that I am. Just thinkin’ about losin’ you makes me sick.”

Your expression softens, but only for a moment. You take a step in his direction, closing the space between you. There’s no hesitation in your tone when you speak, leaving space for conviction. “I had a life before you, Logan. I’ve been here since I was a child, learning how to fight, how to survive. I’ve gone on missions for years—missions that were just as dangerous as this one. I don’t need you to protect me like this.” Your voice wavers, just barely. “I appreciate that you care, but I’m just as capable as you are.”

How long can someone hold their breath? Logan doesn’t even notice he’s doing it until your arms encircle his waist, your embrace melting the tension that’s been coiling in his chest. You bury your face against him, your breath steadying, and he draws a long breath, pressing his lips to your forehead like it’s the only thing keeping him from falling apart. His hand slides into your hair, fingers threading through the strands with a softness that feels almost out of place after the heated exchange.

“You get so bossy sometimes.”

"I thought you said you liked me bossy," you answer, your voice low, laced with mixed feelings, as you look up at him through hooded eyes.

Logan’s lips twitch into what aims to simulate a smile, but it’s weighed down by the sadness pooling in his gaze. It doesn��t reach the crinkle of his eyes, doesn’t carry the warmth it usually does.

“I do,” he says, his voice rough, barely audible, brushing a thumb across your cheek. The words hang between you, carrying a plea for things to feel less heavy, for this closeness to fix what words can’t.

The arguments come more frequently now. The love hasn’t faded—of course, it hasn’t—but it feels buried beneath the noise. You and Logan clash over everything, over nothing, over things neither of you can quite name, all the fucking time.

It’s a cycle that none of you can seem to break, passion feeding the fire until it burns too bright, too hot. One of you always storms out, slamming doors or throwing words that linger in the air like acid smoke. And yet, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how lost you both feel, the love is still there. Aching, waiting for the dust to settle.

You tell yourself it’s just a rough patch. That love like this isn’t easy, that it’s supposed to be messy. But sometimes, when the silence stretches too long after another fight, you can’t help but wonder how much more the two of you can take before something breaks for good.

Lust becomes your apology, an untamed collision of anger and desire that you can’t resist. It’s not gentle—it’s frenzied and blazing. The bed creaks beneath you, the sounds of your moans and the slap of his hips against your ass enveloping the room. Every thrust drives you closer, the ferocity of it making your head bump into the headboard, but all you can think about is how full he makes you feel.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cry out, drooling all over the pillow, ass high up in the air as Logan continues to pound into you. He pulls out all of a sudden, making you gasp in protest. That’s when you feel his tongue against your slit, eating you out from behind, spreading your cheeks to see just how much further he can go. Your hand flies back, pressing him into your skin. “So good, baby. F-fuck.”

There’s no leaving him, not even in your wildest dreams. When he spills inside you, you always ask him to hold you close, whispering for him to stay there. To keep you full of him. And he does, fusing your body with the mattress, his weight anchoring you to the pleasure he knows how to grant you.

But then, it’s morning. The sun filters through the curtains, painting stripes across the rumpled sheets, and you’re tangled together, his arm heavy across your waist. You stare at the ceiling, your mind crawling back to the fight, to the anger that seemed so vital only hours ago. You have to force yourself to remember why you were so mad in the first place. As his hand slides over your hip, pulling you toward him, the memory slips further away.

Dating Logan means understanding the darkness he carries, the nightmares he has almost every night. Usually, you’re woken by his movements, his rambling, the tremors that run through his body. You’ve perfected a way of rousing him gently, pulling him from the grip of whatever horrors his mind conjures without causing him more harm.

Though tonight, you must’ve been drained. You didn’t notice the moment the nightmare began.

“Honey? Oh, fuck. Wake up, c’mon.” His voice pulls you from the depths of sleep, and when your eyes flutter open and adjust to the dim light, the first thing you see is Logan, sitting rigid, staring at your arm as though it’s breaking him apart. The pain in his gaze is nearly palpable.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, voice groggy as you sit up, still partly disoriented. “Logan, are you okay?”

Then you see it: Blood. Dark stains seeping into the sheets, trailing from a jagged cut running the length of your forearm. It isn’t deep, and oddly, it doesn’t even hurt that much. But Logan looks stricken, his eyes flickering between your wound and his own hands.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt,” you assure him as you fumble to grab the ruined sheets, bundling them up to contain the mess. Reaching for the lamp on the nightstand, you switch it on, bathing the room in a golden glow. That’s when you notice the droplets of blood on his knuckles, the torn skin where his claws must have pierced through. This has never happened before. Neither of you know what to say or how to react. When you reach for his hand, he recoils, shaking his head like he’s trying to will the scene away. “Hey, don’t do that.”

“I knew it’d happen eventually.” He’s spiraling, rising to his feet. A man trying to escape himself. A thin sheen of sweat glistens on his chest and back, his body tense with the effort of holding his pieces together. Turning to face you, his expression is the embodiment of torment. In his eyes, it’s as though the prophecy has been confirmed, irrevocably, by his own doing. “I hurt you. I told you it was going to happen.”

“Why are you acting like this?” you ask, pushing yourself off the bed to meet him. You’re tired, too tired to be arguing like this. “It won’t happen again.”

“How can you be so sure? You said the same thing before, and now look. Look at where we are.”

You’re at a loss for how to calm him. The exhaustion weighing on you makes your thoughts sluggish, and you’re afraid of saying something you’ll regret. But giving up isn’t an option—not with him, not because of this. Slowly, you step back and spin in place, letting him see you fully, the wound and all.

“You see? I’m fine,” you insist. “I’m not hurt. Please, Logan, believe me when I say I’m okay.”

He doesn’t respond, but the uncertainty etched into his face lingers. For a moment, you think you’ve reassured him, as he lets you guide him back to the bed. Together, you pull the sheets up to cover your bodies, and he leans into the pillows with a weary sigh. He mutters something about being sweaty, so you don’t rest your head on his chest as usual, settling into the curve of his shoulder instead. The rhythm of his breathing, uneven at first, begins to steady.

At some point, the warmth of his body disappears. You stir faintly, but your mind is too clouded by sleep to register it as anything more than the remnants of a rather vivid dream.

Logan remains standing, staring at Charles, refusing the invitation to sit down. “You told Jean,” he says, and the other man doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even attempt to deny it. “I asked you to keep it between us.”

“I thought she might help you reconsider,” Charles answers, looking more serious than usual, his piercing eyes fixed on Logan. “Logan, I still don’t believe this is the right path for you. It’s not the solution to your problems. You can’t run from her, from this—relying on forgetting won’t bring you peace.”

Who really knows what’s best for him? Logan certainly doesn’t. After all these decades of walking the earth, what has he truly learned? His long life feels like a cruel irony, offering time without clarity. What use is immortality when you’re paralyzed by indecision, unsure of what you truly want?

“I can’t leave her. At least, not willingly,” he explains, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. He shrugs off his jacket and tosses it onto the arm of a chair, the gesture lacking finesse. “She’ll get over it. She’s stronger than she thinks.”

“You’re deciding for her.”

To that, Logan has no reply. He only looks away.

“When I got here, you told me you’d help with whatever I needed.” Logan crosses the room, lowering himself into a chair by Charles’ desk, his posture stiff. He lifts his chin slightly, trying to convey a confidence he doesn’t actually feel. “This is what I need you to do. Today.”

“Let’s start with your most recent memories and work backward from there.” Charles rolls himself closer, his chair nearly brushing Logan’s legs. “There’s an emotional core to every memory, and when you eradicate that core, it begins to degrade. By the time I’m done, those memories will have withered, as in a dream upon waking.”

Logan’s throat tightens at the description. There’s no comfort in Charles’ words. It doesn’t sound like a dream. It sounds like a nightmare.

“Do you want to proceed?”

“Yes.” Logan’s reply is immediate, though it scrapes his throat like gravel.

Charles nods once, solemnly. “Then tell me your most recent memory of her.”

I think I was preparing a class when she burst through the door, uninvited. I’d been trying to keep my distance from her, because of... well, all of this. But it wasn’t easy. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her to leave, so I let her stay. She came up behind me, wrapped her arms around me, and asked if I had much left to do. I told her everything else could wait. Big mistake.

We were lying on my bed. Somehow, we always ended up there, tangled together. It wasn’t strictly... sexual. There’s something profoundly vulnerable about sharing that space. Snuggling, you could call it. Now that I think about it, she likes resting her head on my chest. Says it’s the best way to hear my heartbeat and find out if it matches hers.

“Focus, Logan.”

Yeah, I know. You’re right. Anyway, she asked me if I believed in soulmates, and I laughed. Obviously, she thought I was mocking her, so I had to convince her I wasn’t. I just thought the question was funny.

“Why did you laugh?”

Because it was exactly the kind of question she’d ask. She hadn’t before, but I’d been waiting for it. She told me she thought soulmates existed, and that I was hers. And I laughed again, and she threatened to leave. I held her tighter.

I told her I didn’t know if soulmates were real. I didn’t have that kind of certainty. What I did know, I said, was that I loved her. That was the only thing I was sure of. Soulmates or no soulmates, I loved her. I was right where I wanted to be. Those were my exact words.

“When did this happen?”

Yesterday. Before she left with Ororo and Scott for their mission. That’s why I’m choosing to do this now.

“I’m afraid I have to ask you again. Are you absolutely certain you want me to do this?”

Yes, Charles. Please, don’t ask me again.

Throwing open the mansion’s entry door, you let it swing wide as you step inside. You could use a shower, but right now, all you care about is finding him. Where is he?

Before starting your search, a cluster of students rushes toward you, their arms wrapping around your waist. Their laughter fills your senses as they chatter excitedly, hugging you tightly. “We missed you!” A boy exclaims, and you can’t help but smile, ruffling his hair.

“Have you seen Professor Logan?” you ask, crouching to meet the eye of one of the younger girls.

She grins, her innocent smile spreading, and she points toward the kitchen. “He’s in there.”

You thank her and make your way to the kitchen, your heart beating a little faster. You find him standing by the counter, slicing bread. His movements are methodical, his posture calm, but something feels off. You pause in the doorway, scrutinizing his face for a sign, any sign, that he’s happy to see you.

But his gaze flicks to you for only a brief moment, cool and detached, before returning to his task.

“Hey,” you call softly, tilting your head. His shoulders tense, and he doesn’t stop cutting. “I’m back,” you add, stepping closer, hoping for some sort of acknowledgment.

It takes him a few seconds to respond, and when he does, his voice sounds flat. “I see.” He opens a drawer, pulling out a fork. “Good for you, I guess.”

The words hit you like a slap. A joke, surely. But why? You take a hesitant step forward, your brows furrowing. “Logan, why—”

Before you can finish, a hand grabs yours, yanking you out of the kitchen. Startled, you turn to see Jean, her expression pale and stricken.

“Jean?” you ask, confused. “Is this another one of Logan’s pranks?”

Her lips twitch, and tears glisten in her eyes when she swallows thickly. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “I tried to stop him. I really did. But he—he wouldn’t listen!” Her hands tighten around yours, quivering. You’ve never seen her like this before.

“Wait—slow down,” you urge, your stomach twisting.

“I swear, I tried to talk him out of it,” she pleads, each of the words she utters rushing out like a flood. “You know how stubborn he can get.”

It doesn’t take too long for her panic to feel contagious. The pit in your abdomen deepens as you glance back toward the kitchen, where Logan stands just out of sight.

Something is wrong—terribly wrong.

“Jean, what did he do?”

Despite all his wisdom, Charles had known this moment would come the second he agreed to help Logan.

The door to his office flies open, slamming against the wall with a force that reverberates through the room. You storm in, your strides long and charged with anger, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Madness blazes in your eyes. “You did what?!”

“My dear—”

“You erased me from my boyfriend’s memory!” The words erupt from you, shaking the very air. You fling your arms wide, your fury spilling over. Before he can respond, you turn on his bookshelf, yanking ancient, cherished volumes from their resting places. One by one, you ignite them, flames devouring their fragile pages in an instant.

Then, there’s a momentary pause—a flicker of silence before you seize another book. This one you hurl in his direction, not quite at his face, but close enough to graze the air near his shoulder before it hits the floor with a heavy thud. The sound echoes, a physical punctuation to your rage.

“You made me disappear! He doesn’t fucking know who I am!”

His expression, pained and weary, holds no exasperation—only regret. “He asked me to do it.”

“What kind of an answer is that?” The question hangs underlined by the tears that stream down your face. Your voice breaks, the pain behind it cutting deeper than any accusation. “You could’ve said no, Charles. How many times have you denied me things?”

“You didn’t see him in the way I did, he was—” He stops himself, faltering. No words can repair what he has already destroyed. “I’m sorry.”

You stand there, breathing hard, the space between you filled with smoldering ash and a silence so loud it feels suffocating. The remains of his books lie scattered, the faint scent of burnt paper lingering in the air. Charles watches you, but he doesn’t move to stop you. He doesn’t fight you.

The fury ebbs, leaving behind a hollow ache that takes its place in your chest. “If you’re so willing to erase love like it’s nothing, then do it for me, too.”

Charles’s brows knit together. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I? Logan doesn’t remember me. I walk into a room, and he looks right through me. Like I’m a stranger, like I never mattered. So tell me, what’s the point in remembering him if he’s already forgotten me?”

“I don’t believe forgetting will give you the peace you’re looking for.”

“Is that what you told him as well? Clearly, it worked out well.”

Touché.

“I’ve already hurt you enough,” he whispers.

“And you’ll keep hurting me if you don’t do this. I can’t carry this alone.” You kneel in front of him, clutching the edge of his wheelchair. “If you could take it away from him, you can take it away from me, too.”

Charles stares down at you, his mouth tightening, as if the weight of your words presses down on him. His hands, usually so steady, shift uncomfortably in his lap. It’s clear he can’t believe this is the second time he’s found himself in this situation, faced with the same desperate request. “Are you sure?”

You nod your head. “He wanted to forget me. Now, I want to forget him.”

He exhales slowly, the sound heavy with resignation. “All right,” he says softly, though his voice carries a sadness he doesn’t try to hide. “But I need you to understand… once it’s done, there’s no going back.”

“That’s the point.” You wipe at your cheeks with the back of your hand, as though erasing the tears could also erase the doubt creeping in.

“Then sit,” he counters, motioning to the chair Logan sat in days ago.

You hesitate for a moment, the finality of the act looming large. Slowly, you lower yourself into the chair, gripping its arms with all your earnest. Charles wheels himself closer, and the reality of what’s about to happen sets in.

“Tell me your last memory of him,” he says gently, his voice barely above a whisper.

You close your eyes, and the image surfaces instantly: Logan, holding you close, whispering that he loves you. No soulmates, no destiny—just love. You let out a shaky breath, your heart breaking all over again as you begin to recount it. “The last time he looked at me like I was his whole world.”

Charles nods, his expression unreadable, placing his hands on your temples. “Whenever you’re ready.”

I had to leave the next day, so I wanted to spend as much time as possible with him. My things were already packed. I walked into Logan’s room and asked him if he was busy. A week isn’t a lot, but ever since he moved here, we hadn’t been apart from each other. I was anxious about that. I thought it’d be so hard to fall asleep without him at night. What—oh, God, what’ll happen now?

“I need you to keep going, darling.”

Don’t call me that.

“Alright. I’m sorry.”

I convinced him to lie in bed with me. I had my head on his chest, and he kissed my forehead. His beard scratched me in the right way. It never hurt or bothered me. I had once dated a guy who had a beard, and it was just so uncomfortable. But that wasn’t Logan’s case. He would kiss me and hug me, and it felt like the best thing in the world.

There was a question I’d been meaning to ask him. It was about soulmates, and the existence of them. I thought Logan was my soulmate, and I said it to him. I asked if he believed in them, but he laughed. He told me he wasn’t making fun of me or anything, just that he thought the question was funny.

Logan said he didn’t know whether soulmates existed or not, but he knew for a fact that he loved me. He didn’t care about anything else. He loved me. He really did. Do you think he loved me, Charles?

“Yes. I do believe so.”

Then why did you take that away from me?

“I’m sorry.”

I hate you.

“I know.”

Your head pounds, an ache that feels like it’s splitting you in two. It’s a pain unlike anything you’ve ever known. Your vision blurs, forcing you to blink repeatedly until the world around you sharpens into focus.

Four blank walls. The stark, colorless void offers nothing but the oppressive weight of emptiness. This must be your mind, stripped bare. Somewhere in the depths of this space, Charles is at work, pulling threads and unraveling every memory of Logan.

You push yourself off the cold floor. A soundless shift disturbs the space—a door appears out of nowhere, its frame faintly glowing, and without hesitation, you reach for the handle and swing it open.

On the other side is a fragment of your past: that night months ago, sitting in the living room, watching a movie. Logan had decided to join you. The memory pulls you in, and suddenly, you’re no longer standing—you’re on the couch. Your clothes have altered to match that night. Logan sits beside you, the warmth of his presence impossibly real.

This moment feels untouched by time, but deep down, you know the truth. Charles is erasing it even as you relive it. Soon, this too will vanish.

The scene begins to warp. It’s no longer the movie on the screen. The couple has been replaced by you and Logan. You’re watching yourselves from a third perspective, your bodies framed by the flickering light of the TV. It’s deeply unsettling, but in this fragmented state of consciousness, it doesn’t feel worth questioning.

“Logan?”

“Tell me.”

You grab a cushion and smack him on the arm, the motion instinctive. “You idiot!”

“What was that for?” he asks, laughing as he takes the cushion from your hands, tossing it aside. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talkin’ about.”

“You erased me from your memory!” you accuse him, even as you know the futility of it. He’s merely a fragment, a faint echo of who he once was to you. A lingering shard of memory caught in the tangled wires of your brain, sparking as it teeters on the edge of a short circuit. “You’re not even real, are you?”

“No,” he admits, his voice tinged with something like regret. “I’m just in your mind. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be. You’re just what’s left.” You lower your gaze, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. “How long do you think it’ll take Charles to erase you?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. The words you long for, the closure you might crave, are swallowed up. His lips vanish mid-formulation, and then you’re staring at a blank void where his mouth used to be. The rest of his features begins to fade—his eyes dissolve into nothingness, followed by his nose, his brows, the lines of his face. All that’s left is the space where he once sat, and even that feels tenuous.

You’re on your own now. The memory of him—of that night, the first time you truly shared an intimate moment—has been swept away like smoke in the wind. You collapse onto the floor, trembling as sobs tear through you, your hands pressed tightly against your face, attempting to contain your anguish. “I don’t want to forget you,” you choke out between hiccupped breaths, the sting of tears burning your eyes. “I never asked for any of this.”

“I know,” a familiar voice murmurs behind you, and there he is—Logan. This time, he’s wearing his suit. His claws are unsheathed, gleaming. “I shouldn’t have done it first. I don’t know what I was thinking’.”

You push yourself to your feet, drawn to him. When you move to hug him, he takes a step back, raising his claws as if to protect you from getting harmed. “I can’t retract them. If I hug you, I’ll hurt you.”

“I don’t care,” you whisper, pressing forward and slotting yourself between his arms, ignoring the danger. Your face finds its habitual place against his chest, and you inhale deeply, inhaling his scent. “I just want you.”

His arms fold around you hesitantly, careful yet incomplete. You feel a sharp pain, a searing slice along your ribs that rips a scream from your throat. The agony is blinding, drowning your world into darkness.

When you open your eyes again, you’re somewhere else entirely. The bed feels soft beneath you, the sheets tangled around your legs. Logan is there beside you, his body warm against yours, both of you naked under the sheets.

“You’re lost in thought,” he says, his voice tender, taking a strand of your hair, twisting it gently before tucking it behind your ear. “You alright?”

His face won’t stay still. Beard, no beard. A moustache that fades as quickly as it appears. Hair long, then short. Sideburns one moment, smooth skin the next. He’s a shifting mosaic of himself. You realize you can’t remember what he looked like the last time you saw him.

“I’m forgetting you.” Your fingertips trace the curve of his cheek, memorizing each detail. “I don’t think I can stop it now.”

He’s seconds away from crying, his lips finding yours in a kiss that feels both desperate and resigned. “Stay here with me,” he whispers against your mouth, his hands sliding over your arms, your stomach, your legs. “Don’t let me go.”

“You did it to me first,” you say, voice thick with emotion, pulling him closer, down until his body presses fully against yours. His weight feels real, but you know it’s not. Nothing about this moment is.

His voice breaks, repeating the same mantra. “Stay here with me. Don’t let me go.”

The touches multiply. It’s no longer just his hands on your skin. It’s as if the entire universe is reaching for you. The cacophony of touches, the overlapping voices—“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”—swirls into a suffocating chaos.

Logan begins to blur, like a photograph left too long in the sun. His face fades first, then his body, until all that remains is a ghost of his shadow. Then even that is gone. The bed disappears beneath you, leaving you adrift in an empty expanse. You can’t tell if you’re still there, or if you’ve vanished with him.

You exhale slowly. Silence, at last.

The second first time you see him, he’s sitting alone outside on a weathered bench, his shoulders slightly hunched. He’s completely alone, and you pause a few steps away, studying him for a moment. He doesn’t seem like someone you would’ve missed at the mansion. Charles mentioned he’d recently joined the team, a mutant who had spent too long wandering the earth.

You clear your throat, trying not to overthink it. “Mind if I take a seat?” you ask, your hands clasped behind your back as you wait for his reply.

He shifts to one end of the bench, leaving you more than enough room, though his movements seem cautious. You sit down, exhaling softly as an awkward silence stretches between you. His demeanor isn’t exactly inviting, and you wonder how to bridge the gap.

After a moment, you stretch out your hand, offering a polite smile, giving him your name. He glances at your hand, then takes it. “M’Logan,” he says simply, though you already knew that from your previous talk with Charles. His fingers are rough, calloused, yet they linger a beat longer than necessary before letting go. “The other day, I was in the kitchen, and you walked in. You were acting… strange.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Really?” Your gaze flickers between his face and your hand that still feels warm from his touch. “I don’t remember that. Are you sure it was me?”

Logan hesitates, scratching the back of his neck. “I thought so… but maybe not.” His lips press into a thin line, shrugging. “Never mind. I could be wrong.”

Tilting your head, you study him. There’s something familiar that you can’t quite place. “Have we met before? Outside this place, I mean. It’s just… I feel like I know you. Like I’ve seen you somewhere, but I can’t figure out where.”

His eyes meet yours then, like your question has triggered something dormant. He leans back slightly, his posture relaxing as he lets out a low chuckle. “Funny you’d say that. I wasn’t planning on bringing it up, but… I got the same feeling.”

You can’t help the small laugh that escapes you. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Not at all.” His lips quirk into a smile, one that matches yours.

Inside the mansion, Charles and Jean watch the scene through the window. Jean folds her arms across her chest, her expression caught between awe and disbelief. “This is crazy,” she murmurs, shaking her head.

“Don’t get me started,” Charles replies.

“They don’t know what happened, but they still feel it. Like they’re connected.” She peers down at Charles, her voice quieter now. ��You erased everything, didn’t you? Every memory, every trace.”

Charles keeps his eyes on the scene outside, his features softening as he watches the two of you talk. He sighs, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “You’re asking me for an explanation I don’t have. I guess some things… refuse to be forgotten.”

Blessed are the forgetful, for they get the better even of their blunders.

Friedrich Nietzsche.

dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! <3

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xxsabitoxx · 1 year ago

Text

I’d like to think that Toji prefers to sleep naked.

He’s not even cheeky about it half the time, the man just likes the freedom of sleeping nude. You could be clambering into bed beside him, fully clothed from head to toe, and that man is still getting under the covers with you wearing nothing at all.

The first time it happened you didn’t think anything of it, especially since he had just fucked you into oblivion. You didn’t even have the energy yourself to get up and make yourself decent. Not that Toji gave a shit, he’d gladly admire your bare skin until he fell asleep. It didn’t bother him one bit.

But then it happened again, the following night, you were getting into his bed with nothing but a pair of underwear and his shirt on. Out comes Toji, fresh from the shower with a towel hanging low on his hips. If you hadn’t been so tired, you probably would have tried to initiate something.

You had expected him to drop the towel and at least put his boxers on. But no, he dropped the towel and flicked off the lights, climbing under the sheets with you, fully nude.

It takes a week of this occurring before you finally bring it up. “So you’re a naked sleeper, huh?” You’re on your back, staring at the ceiling and trying not to shiver as his large, warm hand is sneaking up under your shirt and sliding over your stomach.

“You just realized that, sweets?”

There is amusement in his tone, calloused fingers trailing along your smooth skin as goosebumps erupted in their wake. “No…well sort of… but no.” You stammer a bit, face feeling warm at your own inability to speak. Toji seems to enjoy it though…

“Does it make you uncomfortable?”

His tone was nothing short of a purr, vibrating in his chest as a sly smirk crept up his face. Carefully, you turned your head to look at him. “No, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable, Toji.”

He seemed to enjoy that answer, scooting across the mattress until his bare front was nearly pressed to your side. “Then…” he started softly, lips pressing to your ear and making you shiver.

“Does it make you nervous?”

You let out a shaky breath, just as Toji’s hand found it’s home on your chest. “Yeah… it does.” You nearly hissed, face burning hot as you realized why his nakedness had been getting to you.

“Do I make you nervous, sweets?”

He drove his point home by pinching your pebbling nipple, laugher rumbling in his chest as you gasped. “Yes…!”

You couldn’t stand it, body squirming from the intensity that was Toji Fushiguro. Shamelessly, his lips still pressed to your ear, he whispered out “Good.”

#banner from cafekitsune!#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #fushiguro toji smut #toji smut #toji imagine #toji x reader #toji headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk imagines #toji fushiguro smut #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen toji

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iris-qt · 12 days ago

Text

𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗

ᴘᴛ. ɪɪ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴅɪꜱᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ

ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

❆ ᴀᴄᴀᴅᴇᴍɪᴄ ʀɪᴠᴀʟꜱ | 3.6ᴋ

❆ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱɴᴏᴡᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʀᴏᴏᴍꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴄᴀʀᴄᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ʙʀᴏᴏᴍꜱᴛɪᴄᴋꜱ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴꜱ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ᴏɴᴇ…?

Fate was indeed quite cruel for you and Theodore Nott

Fate? Or just an incredibly annoying best friend named Mattheo Riddle?

The Slytherin common room was unusually quiet that evening, the typical crackle of fire and hushed whispers replaced by a tense stillness as the storm howled outside. The wind battered the windows, sending flakes of snow spiraling in every direction. Inside, though, the four friends had finally returned from their little excursion to the Three Broomsticks, all of them dripping wet and looking far too pleased with themselves.

Mattheo Riddle collapsed into an armchair by the fire, his usual smirk more of a self-satisfied grin. “Well, well, well. That was absolutely perfect.”

Draco Malfoy, having shed his wet cloak and settled by the fire, shot him a glare. “Perfect? Are you out of your mind? We were spying on them. They’ll kill us when they find out.”

Pansy Parkinson kicked her booths off and flopped onto the couch with an exaggerated sigh. “They’re practically made for each other.”

“Yeah, a match made in sarcasm and tension,” Blaise Zabini chimed in, lowering himself onto the armrest beside her. “But I have to admit, y/n’s got Nott wrapped around her finger.”

Mattheo chuckled, leaning back and crossing his arms. “See? I told you. It was destiny. The universe wanted this.”

“Destiny?” Draco scoffed. “This was a disaster waiting to happen. Those two will never get along. They’re like oil and water.”

“You’re forgetting one important detail,” Pansy said, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “They’re both annoyingly competitive. They’ll keep each other on their toes.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing,” Draco muttered, eyeing Mattheo. “You do realize we’ve practically pushed them into a blizzard together, right? They’re going to be stuck in that pub for the rest of the night. There’s only so much avoiding each other they can do.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow, glancing toward the window where the storm raged outside. “It’s really coming down out there. I bet they’re already stuck in that pub for a while.”

“Good,” Mattheo said smugly. “That’s exactly what they need. The whole ‘forced proximity’ thing works wonders, trust me.”

“Uh-huh,” Draco said skeptically, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “And when they start throwing punches instead of witty remarks? What then?”

“You don’t think they’ll, you know, talk about their feelings, do you?” Mattheo asked, smirking.

“Talk about their feelings?” Blaise scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Theodore Nott and y/n y/l/n? The only feelings they’ll share are how much they loathe each other.”

Pansy raised her cup of tea, a wicked grin on her face. “To Theo and y/n. May they finally see what we’ve known all along: they’re perfect for each other.”

“Here, here!” Mattheo toasted, holding up his own mug. “No way they’re escaping this. Not unless they manage to hex each other into oblivion first.”

Blaise chuckled. “I’d pay good money to see that.”

They all fell into a comfortable silence, the fire crackling as they relaxed in the warmth of the common room, the storm howling just beyond the walls of the castle. Outside, Theo and y/n remained trapped in the Three Broomsticks.

The winds rattled the window panes of the cozy little pub.

As if getting stuck with the bane of his existence for a few hours wasn’t torturous enough, kind Madam Rosmerta, who Theodore was beginning to suspect was secretly evil, decided to share some unfortunate news regarding available rooms…

Madam Rosmerta gave them a sympathetic smile, her hands clasped tightly around a steaming mug. “I’m afraid there’s only one room left upstairs, dears. The others were taken by travelers when the storm started picking up.”

Your head snapped toward Theo, your jaw already tightening. “One room?” you repeated, voice sharp.

Theo pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath. “Of course, it’s one room. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Rosmerta glanced between them, clearly trying to gauge if a fight was about to break out. “It’s got a big bed and a cozy fire. You’ll be warm, at least.”

“Great,” You said, tone dripping with sarcasm. “Warmth will really help when I’ve been murdered by morning.”

Theo crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Don’t flatter yourself. If anyone’s at risk here, it’s me.”

Rosmerta sighed, her patience wearing thin. “Look, I’m offering it as a courtesy. If you’d rather sit out here all night with the cold drafts and creaky chairs, be my guest.”

You shot Theo a glare. “Fine. But if you snore, I’m hexing you into next week.”

Theo smirked, grabbing his trench coat from the chair. “And if you start ranting about Potions essays at midnight, I’m jumping out the window.”

With a heavy sigh, you followed him toward the stairs, muttering under your breath about “the worst night ever.”

Rosmerta chuckled to herself, shaking her head. “Young love,” she murmured, returning to the bar.

...

The door creaked open, revealing a small but warm room. A crackling fireplace cast flickering light across the wooden walls, the flames throwing shadows onto a quilt-covered bed nestled against the far corner. A single armchair, worn but inviting, sat by the hearth, and a rug that looked as though it had been knitted decades ago lay sprawled on the floor.

Theo stepped in first, his sharp gaze flicking around the room. It was simple and unremarkable, yet the warmth from the fireplace immediately softened the icy tension that clung to his shoulders. He tugged off his gloves, tossing them onto the chair before brushing the snow from his sleeves.

“Cozy,” he muttered, though the word carried a hint of sarcasm. He glanced over his shoulder at you, lingering in the doorway, expression hovering somewhere between annoyance and reluctant acceptance.

“Cozy,” you echoed flatly, eyes landing on the single bed. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Classic.

You huffed, stepping further inside and dropping your bag onto the floor with a thud. “I’ll take the chair,” you declared, pointing toward the armchair by the fire.

Theo snorted, shaking his head. “Good luck sleeping in that thing. You’ll be begging for the bed by midnight.”

“And you’ll be sleeping on the floor by morning if you keep talking,” you shot back, unbuttoning your coat with stiff, jerky movements.

Theo didn’t respond, instead shrugging off his trench coat and hanging it neatly on the back of the chair. He busied himself with the fire for a moment, adding another log and stirring the embers. The room grew even warmer, the heat seeping into his cold hands.

When he turned back, you had pulled off your scarf, revealing flushed cheeks and a few stray snowflakes still clinging to your hair. He watched as you brushed them away absently, the gesture oddly... endearing.

He frowned, shaking off the thought. “You should take the bed,” he said abruptly, the words surprising even himself.

You blinked, turning to him with suspicion. “What?”

“The bed,” he repeated, his tone more clipped this time. “You’ll be unbearable tomorrow if you don’t get any sleep.”

Your eyebrows lifted, and for a moment, he thought you were going to argue. But then you sighed, the fight draining out. “Fine. But don’t complain when you’re stiff and miserable in the morning.”

Theo smirked faintly, grabbing the blanket from the armchair. “I’ve survived worse than a night on the floor, y/l/n. Don’t flatter yourself.”

As he spread the blanket out by the fire, he caught himself glancing at you again. Your expression had softened slightly, your usual sharp edges dulled by the firelight. You didn’t look quite as insufferable now, standing there with your arms crossed and brow furrowed in thought.

…

The wind howled outside as Theo paced the room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Meanwhile, you were glaring daggers at the small, frosted window in the corner, where an icy draft was sneaking through a crooked frame.

“Are you going to do something about that?” you asked, rubbing your arms.

Theo shot you an incredulous look. “Do I look like a handyman to you?”

“Well, you’re the one with the pureblood superiority complex,” you quipped. “Surely fixing a window is beneath my ‘mudblood’ capabilities.”

Theo’s jaw tightened, but then he smirked. “Fine. Stand back. Watch and learn.”

You crossed your arms and leaned against the wall as Theo strode toward the window with unbelievable confidence for someone who had never fixed a thing in his life. He fiddled with the latch, muttering under his breath.

“Step one,” he announced grandly, “assess the problem.”

“You’re narrating this?” you deadpanned.

“Step two,” Theo continued, ignoring you, “apply logical reasoning and brute force.” He yanked on the window frame.

It didn’t budge.

“You’re going to break it,” you warned, suppressing a grin.

“I’m improving it,” Theo shot back. He gave the window another tug, and the whole frame groaned ominously.

With a loud crack, a chunk of ice dislodged from the outside and tumbled onto Theo’s foot.

You burst out laughing, doubling over as Theo hopped on one leg, muttering curses.

“Step three,” you said between gasps for air, “check if the window is laughing at you because I’m pretty sure it is.”

“Oh, you think you’re so clever,” Theo said, shooting you a glare as he hobbled back to the chair.

“Well, obviously I wouldn’t use brute force,” you said smugly, grabbing a blanket from the bed. “Here. Let me show you how it’s done.”

Theo watched with exaggerated skepticism as you climbed onto the chair, draping the blanket over the frame and tucking it into the edges. “Voilà!” you declared triumphantly, stepping back. “No more draft.”

The blanket immediately sagged and slid to the floor, letting the icy wind back in.

Theo barked a laugh, clapping slowly. “Brilliant. Truly groundbreaking work, y/l/n.”

“Oh, shut up!” you snapped, grabbing the blanket and tossing it at him.

Still laughing, Theo caught it and stood. “Move. You’re terrible at this.”

He stepped closer to the window, brushing past you. This time, instead of pulling or yanking, he gently adjusted the frame and tucked the blanket into the top corners, muttering charms under his breath to secure it in place.

When he finished, the draft was gone, and the room suddenly felt warmer.

“There,” he said smugly, turning to face you. “Step four: call in the expert.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the tiny smile tugging at your lips. “Fine. You win this round, Nott.”

“I always do,” he replied, his voice quieter now, almost teasing.

For a moment, the bickering subsided, and they stood there by the now secured window. The firelight flickered across their faces, and you glanced up at him, noticing for the first time how soft his smirk could look when it wasn’t accompanied by an insult.

“Thanks,” you said, surprising both of them.

Theo shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching into something dangerously close to a smile. “Don’t mention it. Or actually, do. Preferably to everyone we know.”

And just like that, the moment passed, but the warmth lingered.

The wind howled outside, but the warmth of the fire in the room kept things cozy…except for one thing: the floor. Theo sat cross-legged by the hearth, his arms wrapped around himself as he gave the ground an occasional glare.

“This is a crime against my back,” he muttered under his breath, trying to get comfortable but only managing to shift in place every few seconds.

You glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow. “You’re still complaining about the floor?”

“It’s not the floor, it’s the principle of the floor,” Theo said with a dramatic sigh. “The suffering of it.” He adjusted his position for the fifteenth time, finally giving up and lying flat on his back.

“Poor Theo. The floor is too hard for your delicate aristocratic back,” you teased, pulling out a bag of crisps from your bag.

Theo shot you a look but didn’t respond, instead reaching for the nearby blanket. His stomach, however, had other ideas, gurgling loudly enough to make you look over with a raised, slightly concerned eyebrow.

“Hungry, are we?”

“I’m fine,” Theo said defensively, as if his stomach hadn’t just betrayed him.

You held up the packet of crisps. “Well, I have snacks.” You shook the bag temptingly.

“Ugh, crisps?” Theo wrinkled his nose, but his stomach grumbled again, this time louder.

You smirked, leaning forward. “What’s the matter, Nott? Too simple for you?”

He glared at her, but his stomach won that round. “Fine. Give me one.”

You tossed him a chip, and Theo inspected it like it was a cursed artifact. He took a small bite, making an exaggerated face. “It’s like chewing on nothing.”

“Is that so?” you asked, unimpressed. “Maybe you’re just not sophisticated enough for the finer things in life.”

Theo rolled his eyes, grabbing another chip. “Finer things? It’s a bag of plain crisps, not an heirloom from my great-grandfather’s collection.”

“Well, sorry for not carrying around caviar in my school bag,” you replied dryly, reclining back onto the bed.

Theo ignored you, popping another chip in his mouth. “You know, I expected something better,” he muttered. “This is barely edible.”

You snorted. “You’re so picky. Can’t believe I’m wasting my high-class snacks on you.”

Theo rolled his eyes, grabbing another crisp. “High-class? It’s a bag of crisps, not some exclusive delicacy.”

“Just eat the damn crisps, Nott,” you laughed, tossing him another.

Theo sighed dramatically. “Fine. It’s not like I have a choice.” He slowly chewed the next chip, making an exaggerated show of tasting it.

“Is it really that bad?” you asked, barely hiding your smile.

“Look, I’m just saying… if I were to critique the flavor,” Theo began, licking his lips as if in thought, “I’d say it’s… offensive. Lacking a certain je ne sais quoi.”

You rolled your eyes so hard you nearly fell off the bed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. It’s potato chips, not fine wine.”

Theo gave you an insufferable smile. “Exactly why I can’t trust you with snack recommendations.”

You picked up another bag from your bag, this one chocolate-covered pretzels. “You want to try these, too, Mr. Refined?”

Theo cautiously took one, studying it like it might explode. He bit into it, then paused, his eyes widening a fraction. “Okay, this is actually… tolerable.”

“Tolerable?” you grinned. “Are you really that hard to please, or are you just trying to be difficult?”

Theo shifted again on the floor, finally conceding defeat to the uncomfortable surface. “The floor is awful,” he muttered, as if the snacks were the only thing keeping him sane at this point.

You give him a slightly sympathetic look.

The two of them sat in companionable silence for a moment, Theo stuffing pretzels into his mouth like he was trying to make up for lost time. You finally cracked a smile, glancing over at him.

“You know, for a picky snob, you’re not terrible,” you said, the teasing tone light.

Theo swallowed his pretzel, his expression serious as he looked at you. “You’re not the worst company either, y/l/n.”

It was the closest thing to a compliment he’d given you, and though it was seemingly wrapped in sarcasm, you couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll take it.”

…

The fire crackled softly in the corner, casting long shadows across the room. Theo had long since stopped pretending the floor wasn’t absolute torture to sit on. His posture was slumped, his legs stretched awkwardly in front of him as he tried to find some position that didn’t make his back ache.

You, who had long since claimed the bed and made yourself comfortable, glanced over at him. He was practically squirming, his face a mix of annoyance and defeat, and you couldn’t help but stifle a smile.

“You okay there?” you asked, your voice light but with just a hint of genuine concern.

Theo shot you a look. “Oh, I’m fantastic. Just living my best life on this luxurious floor.”

You raised an eyebrow, sitting up in bed. “You don’t look very fantastic to me.”

“Thanks for the observation,” he muttered, glancing at the bed and then back at the floor. I’m just fine,” he added with a dismissive wave.

You studied him for a moment. Despite his usual bravado, there was something about the way he was holding himself, like he couldn’t quite escape the discomfort. His jaw was tight, and his hand kept fidgeting with the edge of his shirt.

A thought crossed your mind, and for once, maybe showing some kindness to Nott wouldn’t hurt. You swung your legs off the bed and stood up, walking over to where Theo was sitting with an exaggerated sigh.

“Get up,” you said, holding out a hand.

Theo stared at it like it was some sort of foreign object. “What?”

“I’m not going to let you suffer on the floor like that. It’s ridiculous.”

Theo opened his mouth to argue but then seemed to think better of it. After a moment of hesitation, he reluctantly took your hand and let you pull him to his feet. He winced slightly as he stood, stretching his stiff legs.

Theo hesitated but eventually sat down on the edge of the bed, his back to you as he adjusted the position of his legs. He wasn’t quite comfortable yet, but the soft mattress was a welcome change from the floor.

“I still don’t know why you’re being nice to me,” Theo mumbled, not looking at you.

“Because I’m not entirely evil,” you teased with a little laugh, sitting back down beside him.

There was a pause as Theo’s watercolor eyes flicked to you, then away. He glanced at the small couch across the room that was far less comfortable than the bed but was still an option. He wasn’t entirely ready to admit that he liked the idea of staying near you for a while…

Finally, he sighed, and, almost begrudgingly, moved further onto the bed, pulling his legs up to sit cross-legged beside you.

You watched him, noting the way his usual air of self-assurance was slightly dropped. It was strange to see him like this…vulnerable, not in control. and for some reason, it made him more… approachable.

“See? This is better,” you said with a teasing grin, glancing over at him.

Theo, still half-pretending to be indifferent, couldn’t quite hide the faintest hint of a smile. “Yeah, well… I guess it’s not the worst thing in the world.”

The tension between them softened even further. For a long moment, neither of them said anything, just listening to the crackling fire and the sound of their own breathing. Theo, surprisingly, was the first to break the silence.

“Thanks,” he murmured, almost under his breath.

You blinked, glancing at him with mild surprise. “For what?”

“For… not leaving me to sleep on the floor like some kind of peasant,” Theo said, his voice light but sincere.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re really something, you know that?”

Theo shrugged, but his smile was genuine now. “I try.”

For a moment, they just sat there, quietly, but the air between them had changed. The teasing, the banter, the barbs…they were still there, but there was something softer now, something that wasn’t just about annoyance or putting each other down.

Theo’s thoughts drifted for a moment, and he realized, in a way that made his chest tighten a little, that this wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. In fact, this moment, this strange and unexpected peace with you, was… nice.

And maybe, just maybe, he’d like to stick around a little longer.

The Morning After

The room was bathed in soft morning light, the snow outside blanketing the world in a peaceful silence.

Theo woke slowly, his eyelids heavy, the quiet of the room wrapping around him like a comfort he didn’t expect. The fire had long since gone out, but the warmth from the bed kept the cold at bay. He shifted, and that’s when he realized.

His arm was around you.

Your head rested against his chest, your hair slightly tousled, hand curled loosely over his side. The weight of you, the steady rise and fall of your breathing, was surprisingly soothing.

Theo didn’t want to move. Ever. He stayed still. He could feel your warmth seeping into him, and it made something in his chest tighten in the most unexpected way. He wasn’t uncomfortable; in fact, he felt… content.

You stirred in your sleep, nuzzling closer without realizing, your fingers twitching against his chest. Your soft breath brushed against his neck, and Theo’s heart did a funny little jump. He smiled quietly to himself, the kind of smile that didn’t feel like a defense or a mask but just a simple, genuine reaction.

He didn’t pull away. Instead, he let his fingers gently brush against your hair, the motion instinctive, as if he’d done it a thousand times. It was a small gesture, but it felt like a promise of something soft, something unexpected.

You sighed in your sleep, face relaxing further against him, and for a moment, Theo thought he had died and gone to heaven. His arm tightened ever so slightly around your waist, as if he were holding on to something precious. something he didn’t want to let go of.

He let out a soft breath, closing his eyes again, the quiet peace wrapping around him like a warm blanket. Maybe he wasn’t as good at pretending as he thought. Maybe, just maybe, he’d found something worth holding on to.

pt. 3 here <3

Taglist: @lazycrazyme, @lovrsm, @minhlajenni, @rafeluvrr,

(ty for the comments and support!!)

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott one shot #theodore nott x you #slytherin boys

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gay-dorito-dust · 9 months ago

Note

Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react to his gn s/o telling him that they can't sleep in the same bed as him because they will cling onto him like a koala bear in their sleep?

Sunday: ‘all the more reason for me to keep you close.’ He says smiling as he pulls you into bed with him.

And he wasn’t joking when he says this because then he’ll know that you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon without his knowledge, seeing as how all he had to do was open his eyes and you’d be there, clinging onto him very much like you said you would.

He’ll also use it as an excuse to watch over you as you slept, something he doesn’t find weird or creepy as he expects lovers to watch one another in their most vulnerable states.

It’s for your own protection he swears but then why did it feel controlling?

(You never speak up about this out of a deep guttural feeling that you should wait to see how this all plays out, he couldn’t keep this character up forever. You love him but…something didn’t feel quite right but you were more than willing to play ignorant for the time being.)

Sunday finds this information to be adorable and utterly sweet.

However in private he wonders to himself, more specifically about who could’ve possibly told you that clinging onto your loved one during the night was anything other than prof of your love but just in a different form, and ways he could go about proving them wrong in a thousand different ways.

Until then he’ll indulge you in anything and everything to prove that there was no one out there that could compare to him as a lover.

Welt: ‘there’s no need to feel embarrassed, if anything I’d be more than honoured.’

Welt loves the honesty and trust you have to confine such information about yourself to him in confidence.

It’s a reminder of the strong foundations of your relationship, however he couldn’t help but find it cute that you’d ever think he’d be annoyed at the prospect of being cuddled at night.

If anything it makes him love you all the more if that was even possible.

He won’t pressure you into sharing a bed with him but he’d be more than happy if you felt comfortable enough in doing so.

He’s not a dick, he’s a gentleman.

He’s also extremely reassuring about it too and will tell you that he doesn’t mind you clinging onto him at all. If anything he’d probably encourage you to cling onto him in your sleep if that’s what helps you sleep easier.

Welt is more than willing to accommodate for you no matter what, just say the word and Welt will give you his unwavering support.

Gallagher: ‘don’t temp me with a good time sweetheart.’ He’d tease whilst pulling you in close until you were nose to nose and chest to chest.

News just in; big intimidating wolverine man likes cuddles. He’s a secret cuddle bug, though it ain’t a secret to you, obviously.

He just loves the feeling of you close by, knowing that you were just within arms reach of him were reason enough to have him sleeping with a content smile upon his face.

He’s just finding more and more reasons to squeeze you into oblivion because you’re just so fucking adorable and precious in his eyes.

He will want to prove you wrong in not sharing a bed with him by making you share the bed with him all the time. So you might as well get use to it because you’re not leaving anytime soon with his strong of a hold he has on you.

If anything Gallagher is worse when it comes to clinging on to you in his sleep. Firstly he won’t let go and if he feels the slightest bit of pull, he’s already shifting his body weight further on to you, trapping you beneath him and making it neigh impossible to move even a muscle.

Blade: ‘as if you weren’t already clinging onto me like a koala.’ He’d say sarcastically as you’d pout and smack his arm before moving away from him to convey how ‘hurt’ you were to him.

‘That was a compliment you worm.’ - Blade.

‘Well it didn’t feel like one.’ - you, huffing as your lips went into a full blown pout.

Your efforts in making him apologise fails as within one swift movement, you were caged in his arms as you could feel him breathing down your neck.

‘Look who’s the clingy one now.’ You’d try to tease, only to hear him chuckle. ‘No. Still you.’ He’d reply and you couldn’t help but cuddle further into him, uncaring of the fact that you were still very much proving him right.

Blade may act like he hates you clinging onto him but yet he couldn’t help but melt into your embrace and find the much needed sleep he’s been missing out on for so long.

A sense of momentary peace washes over him whenever you touched in, whether that be a graze or otherwise, his mind seems to clear with you; sure he’ll tease you but if he genuinely didn’t like it he would’ve told you straight up, after all Blade’s not the type to mince his words.

He’d much rather have you cling onto him for the rest of your lives than never be unapologetically clingy at all. He never admits it but he loves it when you cling to him in your sleep, you made him feel like he was with more than he ever gives himself credit for.

Dan Heng: Not gonna lie, he’d be in absolute heaven if you were to cling to him in your sleep, but his face would be like this the entire time: 😐

He’s trying his hardest not to let his true feeling show but he somehow fails whenever you shift in a way he doesn’t like and without thinking, pulls you back into his arms and keeps you caged against his chest.

You’re most certainly not complaining but then again you never expected Dan Heng to be the affectionate type when sleeping.

Dan Heng on the other hand took this opportunity to hide away his face into your head/neck area, but it’s not out of embarrassment, but more so because his dragon noodle self wants to leech off of your warmth and engraving your scent into his very being.

‘Are you purring?’ - you in the middle of the night.

‘No. Maybe…*sigh* yes.’ - Dan Heng probably.

He acts like this wasn’t something he’s been wishing for ages, when in actuality it was probably the first thing he’s dreamt of when he first discovered that he had a crush on you.

Something that he has yet to admit to you to this day but never will because it’s a hill he’s all too willing to die on.

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 5 months ago

Text

imagine logan seeing you again, pt. 2

logan x reader

summary: In his universe, Logan and you were in love. Then you died. Now he's in a different timeline and you are very much alive.

warning: some deadpool x wolverine spoilers. this takes place after the movie. under 1k words.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The street was typically crowded for a Wednesday afternoon, but the hot dog in your hand lathered away all the annoyance from being shoulder checked every so often. The first bite awakened your entire body, and you felt amorous joy. It was a mild weather day and Wade had given you the task of entertaining his new roommate. Logan stood in front of you, seemingly annoyed at the way you were ignoring him and making love to the wiener in your mouth.

“You eat like a pig.”

“Oink…oink…” you murmured, finishing the dog with another anxious bite. He looked disgusted and you amused, as he checked his watch. “Stop acting like you have somewhere to be, you have nothing going on in your life at the moment.”

“Aren’t you a bed of roses.”

Ignoring him, you wiped your hands off and tossed away the napkins. “So, I personally think this is a major waste of time since I gather, you’d rather just hit up a local bar and gorge yourself into oblivion. But I told Laura I’d at least try to get you to do something fun.”

Logan, being the ray of sunshine he was, grunted but then asked how the young girl was doing. “You didn’t have to take her in.”

The two of you starting, well, just walking. There was no real plan for the day, you just picked up Logan from Wade’s apartment and told the Wolverine he was going on a little walk. Like the good little doggy he was – of course, he didn’t appreciate that last bit, but he didn’t object to the idea.

“I honestly don’t mind. It’s nice having a roommate, she’s quiet though. She’s teaching me Spanish, so that’s nice. Are you hungry?”

“You just had a hot dog.”

“It’s called an appetizer, Logan…I know a really good burger place nearby.”

He said nothing and the two of you fell into a silent pace, Logan feeling beside himself. Even a bit ashamed for stealing glances your way. You looked just like her, you – it was confusing and ultimately, he wasn’t sure what to feel. At the party, he thought he felt something and when he saw you afterwards – helping Laura settling into your apartment, it had killed him. Seeing you happy, like you always wanted. In a small apartment, instead of a huge mansion with no privacy. The X-Men were your family but there had been plenty of times when you had confessed to Logan for some peace and quiet. It wasn’t like you wanted to abandon the school, the people you loved – you just wanted a place for Logan and you. As he watched that day, moving things around for Laura, he felt peace. At least, in this universe, you got what you wanted.

“Logan?”

He apologized. “Burger sounds good.”

The man looked conflicted, and you wanted to make a funny comment, observation but something in you decided not to. Instead, you stole little peeks, he wasn’t as old as the Logan from this world, but he had some miles on him. He wasn’t exactly hard to look at either with that whole hard ass guise to him. Wade had highly under played Logan’s attractiveness and what a petty bitch he was. This thought made you chuckle loud enough to gain a look from your companion. He asked what was so funny, you said nothing.

“So, what are your plans now that you’re anchored here?”

“That would be the million-dollar question.”

“I could hook you up with an old team of mine?”

“Absolutely not.”

You began to rattle off different occupations Logan could take up – line cook, bounty hunter, librarian. The latter piqued your interest a little too much with the mere thought of Logan wearing studious glasses and a gray knit sweater making you warm. “I would definitely read more.”

He laughed, maybe even smiled. “Not a fat chance.”

“A girl could try,” you shrugged, nodding ahead. The diner was in view and Logan followed you across the street. He opened the door, and you thanked him, slightly embarrassed that you were feeling some type of way. Horny? Yikes. Maybe. It had been a while and you hardly knew Logan but that might have been the thrill. Feeling silly, you lead the man to a booth in the corner and you settled across from him. The waitress came over and slipped menus to each of you. Logan asked for a coffee while he gazed down at the limited selection of food, and you asked for a Diet Coke. You watched Logan curiously, trying to guess what he’d ordered. He didn’t seem like the type to be experimental with his meals. So, a burger combo would be the best guess and you were completely right. When the waitress came back to take your orders, Logan ordered a burger combo while you asked for a BLT. He thanked the woman and relaxed against the vinyl booth, looking out the window as people walked by.

“Is it different?”

He answered with a quick no, and you apologized for repeatedly asking that. “It’s just crazy to think about other universes, other versions of ourselves out there. Would it be weird to ask if I looked the same?”

Logan stared at you and felt his heart sink. You were beautiful, you were but he could see the differences between the woman he loved and the woman in front of him. Your eyes were filled with energy, hair a lighter tone in color, skin darker – it was like he was seeing an inverted version of the you he knew. Here, in this world, you seemed more carefree, and he was happy about it. Back home, all you ever did was worry. He never really saw you truly happy and he wondered if it was because he had loved you. In this fuck of a place, Logan and you had never interacted. Your paths never crossed and maybe that’s why you were so content. He managed an uncomfortable smile and shrugged. “Pretty much the same.”

Your face fell as the waitress arrived with the drinks. Logan took his and sipped the coffee, hoping you’d move on. It had taken much effort to even look at you now, his heart racing so fast he wanted nothing more to do than leave. Like a coward, run away. It would be so much easier than facing whatever look was in your eyes – what answer did you want? What did you want to hear? Logan felt like somehow you knew the truth and that this was all just a ploy to extract it from him but then you smiled, and a nerve was hit. A good one that had Logan glancing out the window.

“I was hoping I’d have green hair or something,” you laughed lightly. “Oh, well. Green isn’t really my color. Listen, thanks for being such a good sport in all this. For that, how about I take you out for some beers tomorrow night? Unless you got something going on? Which we both know you don’t.”

No.

If he wanted to be a good person with his second chance he was given, that’s what he should have said. No drinks, no weird lunches, no stolen glances. He should have never agreed to even see you again, if he really wanted to change then he would have said no. In fact, he should slowly ease himself out of this friendship you were trying to establish, because what good could come of it? Everyone he loves always dies, his version of you did. Right in his arms, the last thing you felt was his warm embrace. That thought alone should have sent him packing but your eyes on him – understanding, the way your fingers played with the straw from your drink in anticipation and the friendly smile on your face, it was too much for Logan. How could he resist?

Was this a form of self-torture?

If so, he was in, but he was going to need a buffer.

“A few beers sound great, but only one condition.”

Surprised, you agreed. “Anything.”

Logan sighed. Deeply. “As much as this pains me, you gotta invite numb nuts.”

.............

leave comment for a tag. (I tagged those from the OG post who seemed interested in seeing a second part)

@pushingdaisies1 @johnnysilverhandeeznuts @murderhousemuse

@carolinameinicke @abysswhiskey11 @weallhaveadestiny

@cosmiccandydreamer @airwolf92 @fidgetingbee

@bananarepublic58 @ilove-sexydilfsnmilfs @an-tkc @wotcherboo

@theslvttysimp @cauqhtz @ittoscumdump @sad0ni0n

@lostinspace33 @corpse-ihte71 @somekale08

@britthiddlesbatch @doradora8008 @aheadfullofsteverogers

@erikaafernns @justkennadi @tinalbion @tomukit

#logan x reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine #deadpool #marvel

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scoonsalicious · 6 months ago

Text

Unstoppable

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky have bee having a LOT of sex. It's annoyed some people.

Warnings: Language, adult themes, mentions of sex.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Just a stupid cute little drabble I came up with. Enjoy!

A cool vibranium fingertip traced the outline of your lips, along the meridian of your chin and neck, between the valley of your breasts, down to your navel and back again, leaving a trail of tingles along your skin.

“Never gonna get tired of this view,” Bucky hummed. He was propped up on his flesh elbow, looking down on you with warm, sultry eyes.

He had just finished fucking you so well and so thoroughly on the living room rug that all you could do was sigh contentedly and smile up at him. Using what little strength you had left in you, you reached up to cup his stubbled jaw. Bucky leaned into your touch, pressing his lips to the pad of your thumb as you ran it over his plush lips.

His hair was a mess, locks going in every direction from where you had fisted your hands in it, pulling it as he had thrusted you into oblivion. In your eyes, he could never look better than he did right after he had cum inside of you.

And lately, that had been pretty much constantly. After China, he made good on his request to Tony for some time off, and the two of you had been doing your absolute damnedest to make up for all your lost time.

“You’re so pretty after you fuck,” you told him, your mouth letting out words long before your brain could determine if it was a good idea to say them.

Bucky dropped his chin to his chest and let out a low laugh. “Thanks, sweets,” he said, leaning down to kiss you softly. “So are you. Always thought you were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen, from the moment I first saw you.”

“The very first moment you saw me?” you asked him with a smile. “Cause I’m pretty sure I had a gun pointed at you the very first time.”

Bucky chuckled as he lowered himself down to lay next to you, his forehead pressed against your temple. “Honestly, I wondered if you even remembered that. We never talked about it.”

“Well, if it helps, had I known you gave such good dick, I never would have pulled the trigger.”

Bucky laughed and wrapped his forearm across your breasts, pulling you closer to him. “You should have seen yourself, doll. Up on the ramp of that jet, standing up to two super soldiers all by your lonesome? You were a vision; it was hot as fuck.”

You rolled your eyes and swatted at his arm. “Sure it was, Buck.”

He squeezed you lightly. “I’m serious, Pocket. You were out-muscled and out-numbered, but you held your ground, and you were sassy as fuck to Steve in the process.”

“Yeah, and got rendered unconscious for my efforts,” you said with a sad smile, remembering how Steve had knocked you out so he and Bucky could steal the Quinjet. “It all worked out, though, in the end,” you added as you snuggled up against him. “It brought us to right now, so I’m thankful for it.”

You felt the firm press of Bucky’s lips to your temple. “So thankful,” he agreed. “Though, if I could go back and change things…”

“I wouldn’t,” you interjected. You turned onto your side to look him in the eye. “If there was even the slightest chance that we wouldn’t end up here, right now, just like this, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

He smiled a lopsided, boyish grin at you that managed to light a fire in your core, and you reflexively rolled your hips against him. “Again, doll?” he asked with a laugh. “We’ve already been going at it for hours, but if you insist. We’ve got time before we have to go to dinner.”

“Shit!” You bolted upright and checked the time. You were scheduled to have dinner with Tony and Pepper in a little over an hour; there was no time to get caught up in another round of ‘What the ‘F’ Was It?’ with Bucky. “We need showers,” you told him as you rose to stand. Turning, you reached down a hand to help him up. “We probably stink of sex.”

“I love it when we stink of sex,” Bucky said with a laugh as he followed you up the stairs to your master bedroom. “I like to think of it as a souvenir of time well spent.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Buck,” you said with a playful roll of your eyes, “other people don’t want to smell it on us.” You moved to your closet and began pulling out clothes to wear to dinner.

Bucky came up behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist. “We could shower together, you know,” he said, kissing your shoulder. “Save time and water. Very economical of us.”

Ugh, the man was a menace! “You know very well,” you began as you slid out of his grasp and put some safe distance between the two of you, “that if we do that, we are just going to fuck in there, and we’ll be late for dinner.” It wasn’t a theoretical concern of yours; you’d learned the hard way long ago, and after getting reamed out by Tony and Steve Rogers in front of the entire team for missing an important mission briefing, the rule ‘no shared showers if we have somewhere to be' had to be established.

You went first, seeing as it would take you longer to get ready than it would Bucky, but you were in and out in almost no time, putting on your silk robe as Bucky moved to get in.

“Last chance to join me,” he said with a teasing wink.

“Go clean yourself off, you filthy beast,” you laughed, playfully shoving him into the bathroom.

He’d just started the water when you heard the unfamiliar sound of your doorbell ringing.

You padded down the steps, curiosity getting the better of you. Most of the people who visited you had the code for the private elevator and would bypass the door all together. Standing on your toes, you looked through the peephole. On the other side, rocking back and forth on the heels of their feet, stood an attractive, but anxious looking, young woman with thick, light brown hair. You’d probably put her at a handful of years younger than you, if you had to guess.

She didn’t look like a potential threat, but you could never be too careful. “Who is it?” you called through the door.

“Um…” the woman said uncertainly, “my name’s Caity Wallace? I live in the apartment below you?”

Like a puzzle piece slotting into place, you were hit with a jolt of recognition; you’d briefly met her in the lobby around the time you’d first moved in. Opening the door, you smiled warmly. “Caity, hi. What can I do for you?”

She eyed your robe and quirked an eyebrow. “Listen,” she said anxiously, “I really didn’t want to do this, but I kinda feel like you’re not leaving me a choice anymore.”

You stared back at her, puzzlement written all over your face. “A choice in what?” you asked hesitantly.

“Could you… fuck, this is so embarrassing, but could you, I dunno, maybe… not have such… loud… sex… so often?” At the astonished look on your face, she hurried to add, “I mean, I think it’s great that you’re so… liberated, with all your guys, I’m definitely not trying to slut shame you or anything, it’s just… well, I can hear the furniture banging across the floor, and you scream a lot, and–”

“Wait,” you said, caught by something she’d said. “What do you mean ‘all my guys’? There’s just one it guy.”

Caity’s eyes got comically wide. “WHA–I mean… how?! I mean, no offense, but you’re always going at it. There’s no way one guy’s got that much stamina. To be honest, at first I thought you were filming porn up here or something.”

You ducked your head to hide your laugh. “It’s just the two of us,” you assured her. “My boyfriend and I were apart for a long time, so I guess we’re kind of in a honeymoon phase?”

Caity nodded, her eyes wide.

A floorboard squeaked somewhere behind you, and you turned to see Bucky, making his way across the living room, fresh from his shower, in only a towel. “Forgot my phone, sweets,” he said with that gorgeous lopsided grin. He noticed Caity in the doorway and froze like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh, shit!’ he muttered, ducking himself behind a pillar and out of Caity’s line of sight. He popped his head out from around the corner. “Everything alright?”

It was cute how modest he became in the presence of another person. “Yeah, baby,” you told him. “Just a visit from our downstairs neighbor, Caity. You wanna come say hello?” You smirked as he shifted uncomfortably and scowled at you.

“Maybe another time,” he said, giving you a glare at your mischievousness and an apologetic wave to Caity. “When I’m actually wearing pants. You gonna be long?”

You smiled at him. “Nah, baby. I’ll be up in a minute.” He nodded and winked at you before turning away.

Turning back to Caity, you were amused to see her eyes following Bucky as he retreated back up the stairs, her mouth slightly agape.

“I’ll make sure we tone it down from now on,” you assured her. Caity shook her head, as if you’d just snapped her out of a trance. “What?” she said, her attention now back to you. “Oh my god, girl, no. I’ll invest in some noise cancelling headphones. Get it. Get it as much as you want. As much as you can. That man’s a fucking god.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes drabble

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hearts4hughes · 2 months ago

Text

nosey - tate langdon x fem!reader

WARNINGS: mdni ; smut ; oral (f receiving) ; fingering ; degradation

A/N: enjoy this 😁

sunlight sneaks through the curtains in your room, illuminating your sleeping figure. you stir slightly and stretch, but continue to keep your eyes closed.

tate sits crisscrossed next to you on your bed. he looks over his shoulder at you as you begin to awake. he smiles and gets back to his reading.

tate was the ghost boy who lived in your house. you were skeptical at first. a cute teenage boy who was telling you that he was forever tied to your house? that’s insane… right?

but as he began to appear out of thin air to talk to you or listen to music, it seemed incredibly real. that’s how the two of you became best friends. he shared similar interests with you that no one else had. he was dark and dressed like kurt cobain and that drew you to him even further. he hid his past from you, shielding you away from the dark that shadowed his entire existence. it didn’t bother you much considering you were keeping some secrets from him as well. now, as he sat on your bed, he flipped through all those secrets.

it wasn’t his fault that you kept your diary on your nightstand.

you blinked the sleep out of your eyes as they adjusted to the light. “tate?” you mumbled, your voice heavy with sleep. his clad striped sweater back was facing you as he was hunched over reading intently. “what are you doing?”

“morning sunshine.” he turned his head to face you. “dream about me again?” he smirked.

again? what did he mean again?

“what are you talking about?” you rasped, sitting up with furrowed brows. you leaned over to see what tate was holding in his hands and your heart dropped. “oh my god, tate!” you shrieked, grabbing the glittery pink journal out of his hands. you slammed it shut and threw it across the room. he looked smug as ever as you began to freak out.

the blood from your face drained as memories flooded your mind of other things written in that damn book. wet dreams, love confessions, describing how he looked in such detail; god, he must think you’re a creep.

“relax, i was just catching up on my reading.” he simply stated. his eyes wandered over your face, taking in your flushed features. “and i have a right to read that, considering i’m the main character in most of your little stories.”

your eyes shot daggers at him. “fuck you! those aren’t ‘little stories’, they’re my private thoughts! and you have zero right to read them like they’re the sunday morning paper!”

“well i, for one, give you five stars on your writing. i seriously never knew that hazel appeared in my eyes when the sunlight hit them.” he teased with a boyish grin.

your face went from pink to a deep maroon. you clapped your hands over your face and avoided eye contact with the ghost.

“and those dreams were, woah,” he huffed out in a mocking tone. “some seriously got me riled up.” he mocked. you pushed at his chest, mumbling something along the lines of ‘shut the fuck up’. “it’s nothing to be embarrassed of, babe. i’m sure if i could dream, i’d dream about fucking you into oblivion too.”

“our friendship is officially over.” your voice was high-pitched and your face was warm with embarrassment. “i’m never talking to you ever again.” you tried to stand up from your bed, but tate’s hand locked around your wrist and pulled you back. swiftly, he trapped you under his body with your wrists above your head.

“well, what i’m about to do to you might not need many words, anyway.”

before you could argue, his lips were on yours. his tongue slipped into your mouth and you moaned in surprise. it wasn’t long before you began moving your mouth against his. he settled is weight on top of you, an unmistakable hardness pressing against your pajama pants.

you subconsciously rutted your hips up against his. the friction sent a spark of pleasure through your body. warmth settled between your legs at the movement.

“you’re so needy,” he murmured against your lips. he started grinding his hips into yours, creating more pleasure than you could imagine. you broke from the kiss, throwing your head back in pure ecstasy. he took the opportunity to press open mouthed kisses to your jugular. “gonna make you feel even better than you could ever dream of.”

goosebumps rose on your skin as he moved down your body, pressing kisses along your exposed skin. he stopped when he hovered over your core, slipping your pants down your smooth legs. he let out a smug chuckle when he realized you weren’t wearing underwear.

“it’s like you knew this was going to happen.” he tsked. “such a slutty girl.” he wasted no time as his tongue licked a stripe through your folds. he moaned at the taste of you. “you’re so wet, baby.” he latched his tongue onto your bundle of nerves and sucked. your mouth was agape. you couldn’t even form coherent thoughts let alone words as he feasted on you.

his tongue began poking at your entrance, causing your hips to buck up. his nose knocked your clit making your eyes roll. that’s when he began to push his tongue inside your tight hole. his hands splayed on your thighs, holding them open as he had his way with you.

he pulled his face away from your core. your slick was covering his mouth and chin. he smirked as he saw you. “is this all you’ve ever imagined? all you’ve ever dreamed of?”

you nodded and whimpered when he abruptly pushed two of his fingers inside you. he curled and thrusted them in at a relentless pace. “words, darling. use your words or i’ll stop.”

“yes!” you blurted out at the threat of him stopping. “making me feel so good.”

“that’s right, baby.” he moved his digits faster in and out of you. your walls clenched around his thick fingers. “making you feel good like the little slut you are. i would bet that you’ve even touched yourself at the thought of this before. haven’t you?”

“yes, i have.” your words were whiney and desperate as you approached your high. you didn’t care how pathetic you sounded, as long as tate kept doing what he was doing.

“such a little slut for me.” his eyes were trained where your pussy sucked his fingers in. the squelching sounds only adding to the pleasure. he started rutted his hips against your mattress, trying to relieve some of his aching.

then, as his lips returned to your puffy clit, you came. the knot untangled in your stomach and like a fountain, your release soaked his face. you had never done that before.

“didnt know you were a squirter, but now that i do know, we aren’t stopping.”

#tate langdon x reader #tate langdon #tate langdon smut #ahs murder house #ahs #evan peters #evan peters x reader #tate langdon imagine #nora’s writings 💐

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gibberishfangirl · 6 months ago

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WINDBREAKER | i’d let the world burn for you

Synopsis ✰ which boys i think would relate to that song lyric “id let the world burn, id let the world burn for you” and why i do or don’t see it happening

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Choji Tomiyama, Jo Togame

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩 -> okay hear me out. i see this being 50/50. i feel like Sakura is such a crash out at times especially when it involves you. this man will 100% crash out over you and bring hell on whoever hurts you. on the other hand… he is main character and is very heroic which is why i cant see him fulllyyyy resonating with this lyric. a hero simply cannot unleash hell onto everyone. but if its just targeted towards one individual he’s for sure going to jail for attempted murder. he’d most likely succeeded tbh so maybe not even attempted

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩 -> yes. no doubt about it. HEAR ME OUT. i know he’s also a hero and he’s a leader so he shouldn’t sacrifice everything he has for just one person. BUT HE WILL ANYWAY. this man is ready to die on that hill if it means you’re safe. being in love and having someone be so dear to him brings out a whole new side to him. if it had been any other person, definitely not, he’d be more rational. however, since it’s you and he’s madly in love, he’ll 100% set the world on fire himself. Ume is ready to stand up for the ones he loves. no question about it, he’ll take extreme measures without hesitation.

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩 -> okay. i want to say yes but in reality it’s like maybe 60%? i’m a helpless romantic and Suo is practically the definition of romantic so i like to believe he would for the plot. when Suo loves he loves hard and desperately. he’s the kind of man to sacrifice himself more than anything. he loves you like a bruno mars love song. yk grenade, the song, we all know it. that’s him. that’s just his song. he gives the vibe of sacrificing himself than the world for you.

Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩 -> …no. DONT HATE ME but i dont see it happening at all. i mean he’d most likely die for you and take a bullet for you and all that romantic stuff. BUT SACRIFICE THE WHOLE WORLD?? now that’s a bit extreme in his book. he loves you and would die for you. off topic but Nirei just gives me the vibe that he would want to be buried next to you so that way the two of you can find each other in every timeline <3

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩 -> have you seen this man during his villain arc??? it’s a clear cut yes. this mf will actually kill someone with his own bear hands for you. he’d carry all the blood and taint himself if it meant you would be okay. he prioritizes you more than anyone else, so he will absolutely lose it over you. if anyone even had the audacity to put their hands on you. it’s game over. all that development he’s had and has worked on will vanish in less than a second. he’s the core definition of ‘0 to a 100 real quick’. it’s not even worth testing.

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩 -> this song was made for him. literally his fucking song. hes made himself the bad guy before and he’ll do it again. especially for your sake. Togame might be a nice guy but dont ever mistake that for anything more. just because he can have a polite mouth doesn’t mean he won’t completely pummel someone into a state of oblivion just for making you uncomfortable. biggest crash out next to Sakura.

#sakura haruka #sakura haruka x reader #hajime umemiya #hajime umemiya x reader #hayato suo #suo hayato x reader #nirei akihiko #nirei akihiko x reader #jo togame #jo togame x reader #choji tomiyama #choji tomiyama x reader #wind breaker #wind breaker x reader

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floylia · 5 months ago

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A MOMENT DESIRED

— wanderer x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: He doesn’t need a heart to feel. Puppet or human. A heart or without—it does not matter anymore.

Kunikuzushi was designed to serve a divine purpose.

Kabukimono searched for curiosity and acceptance.

Scaramouche existed to fulfill that which he lacked.

While Wanderer was created to embrace humanity.

To walk beside them. A fresh start–whether he had a heart or not. Because despite it all, his mother discarded him for his emotions–sorrow and laughter–which proved to be a weakness, but perhaps, it’s finally time he acknowledges that craving for the impossible is a waste of time.

So he learns to live.

Rather, Nahida makes him learn, quite literally.

Instead of performing mass destruction, he stands in the House of Daena, scanning through the thousands of books they harbor. He skims through the pages, coughing once in a while from the dust that had settled on the shelves.

A once renowned Fatui Harbinger has now turned into a Vahumana Scholar.

How ridiculous, he thinks.

“I have your tea,” A familiar voice declared through the hushed voices in the room. You approach him with two drinks in hand, “I don’t understand why you like bitter things.”

“The more bitter the better,” he replies calmly, tracing the book spines, and skimming through its contents. Too immersed to engage in a conversation, but he indulges.

“My arms are tired, hurry up”

He pulls out a decrepit book before grabbing his tea from your hand, “You complain too much.”

“It’s piping hot. I don’t understand how you don’t notice the temperature.”

He shrugs and leads both of you to a nearby table. On it, mechanical items, cloth and a sewing kit scatter around, clearly tinkered with, “What is this?’

“I’m making a toy,” you respond.

He raises a brow, expecting you to explain further but you don’t. You take a seat across from him.

“Kshahrewar scholars,” He whispered while shaking his head.

You pass him the sewing kit, “We’re making toys.”

“What. Why?”

“Less questions, more doing.”

At times like this, you remind him of Nahida. Constantly ordering him around. Yet he follows like an obedient dog.

This time not out of obligation as a “prisoner,” but because he wants to.

With you, he doesn’t need to give his actions reason.

It’s a foreign concept.

But he’ll learn. He’s best at adapting.

“Let me teach you,” You say after watching him struggle to put the thread on the pin.

“I’m not made for this.” He says.

“Clearly.”

Your hands brush, he doesn’t understand why his face flush, or why he craves your touch–a moment too quick, a moment desired. But he observes how your concentrated face contorts into various expressions—how your eyes twinkle with passion, how your lips fall into a steady line, how your hands skillfully follow a rhythm as you teach him the ways of knitting.

Admiration flows through his body.

Yes. Admiration. That is the word.

You must’ve noticed his stare, because you match his gaze. It’s too soft. Too intimate. Too close. He looks at your lips then back at your eyes.

Admiration. He reasons.

But the urge to cup your face and kis–

No.

He coughs, “Sorry.”

You continue.

In no time, he gets the hang of it. Hours go by, but it didn’t feel like it. Your presence alone makes time a fickle matter.

Finally, he finishes the small doll.

Both of you admire his work—a short boy with white clothes, dark black hair, paired with a waistband and a teardrop beside its eyes.

In some way, it resembles him. A version of him derived from misery.

“You should’ve joined Kshahrewar. You have the talent for it,” you say truthfully.

“I’d rather not work myself to death for a penny.”

You gasp, “That stereotype is old. Is reusing the same content natural for you Vahumana folks? Does creativity not flow through your class?”

He scoffs at your words, but finds no offense in your statement. He’s fond of your annoyed face, how you ramble into oblivion. Something about hearing your voice makes his none-existent heart flutter.

This. He’s not used to.

“Who is that by the way?” You point at the doll.

“A puppet.”

“A puppet? Don’t they need strings?”

“No. It’s not tied down. It’s free.”

—

You don’t see him the next day.

But you do see another doll lying on your usual table–one that resembles you followed by a note underneath, “The puppet found itself a companion. I hope you don’t mind.”

You certainly don’t mind.

NOTE:

inspired by wanderer’s friendship level 4 story

#— floy 🖋️#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #wanderer x reader #wanderer genshin #genshin x reader #scaramouche genshin impact #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #wanderer #genshin fanfic

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valentine-cafe · 23 days ago

Note

Hi Eden and Howl!

I’d love to request something spicy for verse 781 Vespasiano. Along the lines of a reader (afab gn) tying a pink bow around his cock and then proceeding to ride him under the guise of giving oneself a gift, but struggling because...well, he’s a big boy. So it’s only fair he takes over because it’s he who should be doing the gift-giving after all ☺️

Have fun! Love yall ❤️

˖⁺. “ birthday cock ! ” :

﹙ vampire lieutenant dilf x gn afab reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . verse 781 vespasiano x gn afab reader !! 🍓 : ﹙vampire ˖ lieutenant ˖ special op ˖ dilf character ﹚

your lover's always pushing you around in the bedroom. but it's your birthday. so you wrap him up like a present and plan to ride his dick into oblivion. there's just one thing you're forgetting . . . he's fucking huge.

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ riding ˖ teasing ˖ some oral ˖ size difference ˖ multiple orgasms ˖ vesp and his big dick <3 | wc : 2.6k

﹙ receipts ﹚: mina bbbyyy I was sooo happy to write this for you! it gave me so much inspiration and just - just - being able to write vesp in this light is so canon to his character. really hope that you enjoy it! <3

꒰ other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore ꒱

You had been kissing him up as though he’ll leave on deployment in the next few hours. Despite his towering height and the build of a sniper, you quickly make use of the art of seduction. With palms that take their rightful place on his chest and lips that consume his like a wildfire.

It took barely a few seconds until you were in his lap. Your hips stir up memories with their needy grinds into his crotch. His deep groan surfaces more as large hands steady themselves on your thighs.

“Dio, tesoro, slow down.” He chuckles into your kiss. If only to chase after it when you sink your teeth into his lower lip and dig your hands into his hair. Fingers brush along the dark strands and trace the streaks of grey you know so well, you give them a tug of greeting and steer your clothed heat down to his growing bulge.

His grunt is low while the twitch of his fingers that drag down your thighs leave a warning. The lieutenant would rather take his next shot blindfolded than let you think you have any control here.

Maybe with those big pretty eyes that he cannot say no to - or that sweet voice of yours that sung him into deception to hide your bratty behavior. But this? Oh darling, don’t try your luck.

His next few comments flow through one ear and out the other. Your lips drive forward rather than your mind. With heated kisses scattered all over his collarbone and fingers that fumble with the black buttons of his dark shirt.

It’s like you’re mocking him. What will you do, Sir?

“You seem to like me in your lap.”

He could see your eyes practically melting into hearts to match your giggle that puts sirens to shame. And like a sailor lost at sea, his mouth goes dry as your lips feasts down his chest, to his stomach, pelvic bone. Your teeth bite, his part.

Your nails drag along the bulge of his pants. They drum along his already hard dick straining against fabric. Like an anticipation of your own. Oh, your smile is dangerous. Sharp. If he could drop his head and kiss it into whines he would — alas you render him maw-dropped as your mouth grinds down on his bulge. Your hands rid him of his pesky pants like they are your worst enemy.

His tip’s there to greet you; so you’re polite and return the favour with a smooch. “Seems he missed me.” Not without a wink to your lover, however. Who grunts and snatches the back of your hair.

“Threading thin doll, watch it.”

He’ll forgive you with your trail of apologetic kisses down the underside of his veiny cock. The nervures thrum to the beat of your pants. You slick him up with saliva and affection like it’s a birthday gift. When in actuality, it should be yours.

With one last suckle right beneath his capped cockhead, you squeeze at his base then part with a pop. Smacking your lips together lightly as though to savour your favourite meal.

His head rolls to the side. Emerald eyes peer at you through narrowed lashes as his pants fan into the dim room. The sheen of the moon through his wide-open balcony doors and the neat style of your shared room blurs into nothingness when you look up at him. You simply have to rear your head and steal another quick kiss from his lips pressed in a thin line.

Vespasiano has been trained in every which-way to avoid distractions, as any good sharpshooter would. Your mouth ran years of training down the drain. Whether on his or wrapped around his cock so prettily. He groans into your sweetness and tilts forward to kiss you deeper with a large hand that knew so many hardships so gentle on your jaw.

Speaking of things wrapped around his dick - your little distraction for once is interrupted by yours truly, when the man parts with a small noise of question. Did you really have the audacity to slide a cockring round his -

“What’s this?”

His deep chuckle pulls a string at your heart, so you press a peck over his. Before you take a peek at his accessorised dick down below. Donning a pretty pink bow at the base. Like a badge of honour for all the times it’s fucked you dumb.

“My early birthday gift, after all.” He’s never rolled his eyes quicker at one of your silly, chirped out statements more than this. The grin on his face tells you he’s more than proud to bear your decor. If not then - he’d quickly get used to the idea when you give him a few pumps.

“Well,” he muses, head leaning down so that the little playful strand that hung over his forehead tickles your face. “What will ya use this gift for first hmm? ‘s easy, versatile, gots a long battery life and now comes with three -”

“Fuck off.”

Your laugh smothers him together with your smooches. His own deep chuckles and tittered kisses join the medley as his hands find their rightful place on your thighs. Ever as eager to aid your perch on his lap while his neck takes your arms around it like the finest jewellery piece. You’re just decking him with ornaments all over, huh?

To compensate for the heat of your passion, his head tilts back. Maybe he’ll let you off the hook just this once. Since it’s your birthday, after all. He won’t interfere in the sly grind of your hips. the second-nature of your rhythmic humps once your bottoms are ridded.

Lies. He’ll curl a finger along the band of your panties. Snap them to your soft skin and grin through your whines with sharp fangs.

He won’t be grinning for long. The mere sight of your panties pulled to the side steals his attention away from you mouthing down his tanned neck. He’s so used to stilling his breath every time for a shot; but he could never get used to your thievishness of his air whenever you sink down on him.

The squeeze of your pink walls flutters around him. Pulsating like a life force through the sensitive flesh. His hands move to worship such divinity with lathers down your thighs, up your shirt. He’ll squeeze your pretty breasts in return. “Mmm . . . sweet thing,” the pants that leave him are nothing short of desperate.

Desperate? That’s what he should be calling you. “Sat at the table all wet huh?”

You ignore the true statement. Your thighs have been squeezing around nothing through the entirety of dinner. And there he was - digging into his chicken piccata instead of you. The audacity.

So since he prefers his meal so much, he can keep his hands off your movements. You swat them away when he reaches to control your grinds. Your own flatten on his broad shoulders as you exchange his frown with a smile.

“Yeah?” His low voice almost halts your shimming hips. You tighten your tummy and force down the flutter, reprimanding him with a clench of your pussy. Two can play at that game.

“Wanna use my gift how I wanna babbyyy.”

What an actor you are. Pretending that the drag of his huge cock along your walls isn’t getting to you. Like you’re a strong darling who can handle their lover’s bully of a tip splitting their walls with ease. What more should he expect from the brat themself?

Have it your way, he deems. Vespasiano’s palms find their home on your bouncing breasts instead. His thumbs show them love with circles to your nipples while you - oh so skillfully - take your birthday ride on his cock.

“H-Hah. . . feel s’good,” you hiccup. Trying to ignore the sloppiness of your bounces. The haphazard slaps of skin in comparison to the rhythm he always sets when he’s the one in control. Your wetness coats your thighs and his cock, along with the pretty little bow. Dampening it to a deeper shade as though you’ve already cum all over it.

As though you aren’t struggling.

Maybe it’s the soft groans as his head limps into your shoulder. Or his shit-eating grin you feel against your skin he dares lay kisses on despite. Perhaps its the thrum of that one underside vein of his that mocks your sweet spot but an inch away. Or the way your clit misses his calloused fingers.

He kisses to your ear so tenderly while you’re trying to ride him like he’s not making your eyes roll back with the stuffing of his size and the kisses of his pre-cumming tip to your cervix. “Need some help?”

Your pussy cries yes. Your mouth utters out a whined - “no.” Seems like you prefer feeling like a mouse climbing a horse. You sure as hell have the stubborness of one.

“Oh, course not. ‘cause you’re doin so well.” He drawls in a croon masked in the sweetness of heaven, yet surely crawled from the pits of hell. His hands are like serpents that trace down your sides. One slithers to stroke at your spine. “Soo well, mean listen to her.”

If your cunt had a conscious she would have long disowned you. Why are you more addicted to your pride than the delicious feel of his cock slamming you silly?

You could be here, bouncing on him like a ragdoll. Instead you’re bumping and humping along like a virgin.

It’s only when you attempt to sink down fully in a pathetic search for his pelvis grazing your clit, combined with the feathery, mocking kisses along your breasts — that you cave in. Much like your poor walls throbbing around him in their own pleads and tears.

“O-h. . . O-Okay,” your choppy response prompts an arch of a dark brow. His caresses down your sides send shivers through your spin, through your cunt that has come to a standstill. “Please. . . h-help me out baby.”

“Oh.”

It’s his eyes turn to be the superstars. Widening in all their fakeness. It almost makes you want to backpedal out of spite.

“Need my help? But you were doing so well. Don’t you wanna ‘use your gift’?” In spite of himself his hips take up a light roll and grind. Knocking against all your sensitive spots with the mere action. He cannot say no to those big eyes, after all. “It’s all wrapped up f’you and everything. What, forgot how to ride already?”

It’s a small beat. One to match the thrum of your heart and pulse of your walls. You squirm on his lap and hook your arms tighter around his neck. You’re leaking all over him even more with just the few, shallow rocks.

Vespasiano only hums. He forgives your thighs with the warmth of his hands and brings them back down so easily. Fixated on the squelches and sight of your slit quivering with gratitude. If only to cry when he halts again.

And with a deep, lilting voice. His croon fills your ear.

“Then let me remind you.”

There’s those wet claps. Like a rejoice through the room as he snaps up into you with a chase for your cervix. He hits bullseye every time. Large hands snatch your waist and jam you down in unison. He can’t give you all redemption, now can he?

Your head tosses back. Toes curl as he hammers into you like a piston. He acts like you were so disrespectful! He’s one to talk with his rude size making your poor pussy cry all over him. Clinging to his cock like a lifeline. Just as you are.

“V-Ves - hic - Vesp - Veesspp hngh -”

“Thaaatt’ss more like it. There you go.”

He only needs one hand on your thighs. The other caresses around your throat. A cruel sense of security shattered when it tightens. Forces you to look up at him while he wrecks you for all your worth. And he’s not even breaking a sweat while he squirts your cum all over his thighs like it’s nothing.

What was that about only needing one hand on your thigh? Turns out he needs none. His sheer strength is enough to bounce you on him faster - and faster - while his fingers search for better matters. Splitting his index and middle on your folds to open them up for him. Unveil your throbbing clit to the hot summer breeze of Italian weather. If it weren’t for him barreling away at your insides and turning them into mush you’d be complaining on-and-on about the temperature.

You don’t seem to mind the heat of his hands. Of his wet kisses traced along your neck and shoulders. Certainly not of the warm suds that stain your thighs and the strings of cum and slick that squirt from your puffy pussy. You’ll have to throw that pretty bow away for sure.

“V-Veessp - I - hngh -! P-Pleaa - s-s’sooo -” your lips match the strings with drool instead. He doesn’t seem to mind when he yanks you closer by the neck and presses his lips to yours. His grip finding better grasp at your face with fingers smooshing your cheeks together.

All you can do is stare helplessly when he parts. Fingers flex and his thumb invades your mouth next, flushes to your tongue while he grins at the trail of saliva connecting the both of you. “Use you words, tesoro. Pretty pussy down there’s outdoing you.”

What a cruel man he is to accentuate your squelching songs by dragging his tip to the head of your slit. Smack the head on your quivered folds as it catches on wet threads of cum before slamming back in. All to see your head toss back and your cries to outshine the splutter of your cunt. His thumb joins your clit, as though you need more stimulation than the agonisingly pleasurable feeling of him ramming you through another orgasm.

“Nhh - f-fuu’ p-ease-!”

Your eyes meet at the centre. Jaw slack. Pleasure numbing every fibre in your body other than your milking walls and aching cervix. Not that he’s giving you a break no matter how many times you squirt all over his dick and balls.

“Aww, what’s this?” Vespasiano bites on his grin at the squirm of your thighs. Pleasure thrums through him with ragged pants and pulsations at his thick tip.

His hands smack and grip at the fat of your ass before he squishes tight. Slams you down all the way and bucks his cock up rapidly into that one, darling, devastating spot.

“We don’t - fuck - run from a good fuckin’, doll.” He drags his fangs down your throat and circles some of his bite marks. Such a tender action in comparison to the way he’s humping you to a state of dumbness. To spilling all over the bow once more.

His tongue lathers out on the front of your throat and with a voice on par with the deepness of him stuffing you full - he muses.

“Jus’ giving your gift, pretty thing. Happy birthday.”

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#﹙ cupcake rush. ﹚: vespasiano 781 𖹭 ݁#monster boyfriend #teratophillia #vampire x reader #monster smut #monster fucker #terato #smut #monster x reader #oc x reader #monster oc #x reader #reader insert #original character x reader #lieutenant x reader #gn reader #vespasiano 781 #asterism

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sourrpatched · 3 months ago

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𓉸ྀི l.mk LIKE A VIRGIN

Pairing > Yandere!Lee Mark x Fem!Reader

Genre > Horror (slasher type), Murder Mystery, College frat AU, smut (MDNI), loosely based in late 90s (there may be minor inconsistencies)

Sypnosis > As the fifth year anniversary of what the public coined the 'Vestal Murders' approaches, strange occurrences begin to happen. Leaving the public frightened there may be a copycat killer on the loose, and you worried that he might be there to finish the job.

Warnings > Cursing, drinking, smoking, death, Major character death (but also not really?), SMUT (MDNI), Dry humping, oral sex (f recieving), protected sex (wrap it up yall come on), stalking, Mark is actually crazy just an FYI

Word Count > 13.6k

A/N > This is the first to a series i’m working on for halloween so i hope if u enjoy this you enjoy the others! This is also my first time writing such a long fic and smut so bear with me please.

playlist > Like a Virgin- Madonna, Oblivion- Grimes, Somebody’s watching me- Rockwell

Lucville, October 12th

October was a fun month for most people. There was the official start of fall and of course halloween season. There was no one happier than your friends, you on the other hand were not a fan.

Something about Halloween just gave you the creeps. Which, yes may be its exact purpose, but that didn’t mean you had to like it. Besides, you preferred Spring anyway.

You sat on your desk chair next to your bed, head hanging back as your body laid limp on the seat. Your friend, Yuqi, was sorting through your closet. Well what was left of the clothes in your closet. She had thrown half of your wardrobe onto the floor, searching for the perfect outfit for tonight.

“Do I have to go?” You groaned, “Like really?”

It wasn’t like you to want to go out and party and your friends knew that, which is why tonight was a special occasion.

“Your parents aren’t going to let you stay home alone, considering recent events.”

“I’d say five years ago is hardly recent.”

There was a series of disappearances that led up to Halloween when you were in your early years of high school. It was three different people who happened to live within your town, some even attended the same school as you. It was a small town, yet you wouldn’t have considered yourself close to any of the students, except for one.

Jihoon was one of your older brother, Inhyuk’s longest and closest friends. You remember how they’d always hang out at your house after school playing video games. Jihoon was always so sweet to you, inviting you into their hangouts so you wouldn’t be alone. Even with the four year age gap you couldn’t help but develop a puppy crush on him.

A week had passed since his disappearance, everyone expected that the kids were playing a senior prank and would return shortly, your brother knew differently. He grew more distressed as the days passed. You remember how annoying it was that he wouldn’t allow you to go anywhere without him right by your side.

That protectiveness only got worse when the bodies had been discovered. The TV was playing a re run of IT in honor of Halloween when an emergency news broadcast appeared.

“It appears the bodies of multiple missing persons have been discovered after police received an anonymous report leading to an investigation of Velvet Lake.”

Chills ran down your spine as the names of the kids appeared on screen, Jihoon being one of the three. Your brother had taken it badly, he couldn’t leave his room for months. That’s why as soon as he graduated he took a scholarship across the globe and never came back.

It only made the house emptier. Your father was always traveling abroad on business so he was hardly ever around, and your mother who was a surgeon at S.E.S, the towns local hospital, was working overtime. That left you alone most of the time when you weren’t with your friends.

“I’m not talking about that Virgin killer, i’m talking about those people who were mauled by a bear or something in Melody.”

Melody was the neighboring town to yours closer to the city, and as far as you knew, there wasn’t much wildlife there.

“A bear? How would a bear even be there?”

“How would I know. My dad just said what he saw on today’s paper.” She shrugged pulling a shirt from your closet and bringing it up to your chest.

“It’s not Virgin Killer by the way, it’s Vestal.”

“Same difference. I think this is it by the way.” She motioned her head to the mirror behind you. It was a green and brown tube top with a turtleneck she had chosen for you to wear. It was cropped, exposing your waist down. You’d argue it wasn’t exactly appropriate for the weather but Yuqi never took that into account.

“Perfect.” She smiled and headed back to your closet. “Now we gotta find matching pants.”

“Isn’t it kind of stupid that they’re hosting a party already. Halloween isn’t even til three weeks from now.”

“Y/N you should know already they will throw a party for any reason.” Her voice comes out muffled. You roll your eyes knowing she’s searching the deep depths of your closet.

“What’s the point in that, aren’t parties supposed to be special?”

“Y/N, college parties are an excuse for us to get drunk and have fun. What’s more special than that?”

You trace out the words ‘HELP ME’ on the desk with your finger, whining. “Nothing for me, so do I have to go?”

You’re suddenly hit on the side of your head. You look down at a the floor where a juniper maxi skirt lays on the floor.

“You play this same game every time and end up dragged to the party anyway,” Yuqi bursts, “We’re going. So put those on and stop your bitching.”

You sigh in defeat, grabbing the skirt and beginning to change into the clothes before the sound of the doorbell goes off.

Yuqi lets a breath out. “That’s probably Minnie I’ll go get her. Stay here and don’t try and get away.” She pleads with emphases on ‘ don’t ‘ before leaving your room.

You change into your clothes, staring at yourself in the mirror. The amount of skin showing makes you a bit uncomfortable so you reach for a black leather jacket on the floor from Yuqi’s assault on your closet. You put it on feeling much more content hearing the approaching voices of your friends.

“You should really learn to stop popping up out of nowhere and call before you’re coming over.”

“I paged you guys.” Minnie spoke evidently.

You snicker, “You still carrying yours around?“

She rolls her eyes, “Okay you’re just lucky your mom and dad can afford to get you a cell.”

You shrug.

“It’s getting late, we should get going.” Yuqi says putting her own jacket on. You grab onto her before she can slip out the door.

“And this mess?”

The entire room looked as if it was part of the titanic wreckage. You could hardly see the floor with the piles of clothing covering it. She looks around then at you with an innocent smile. “I’ll help later.”

You take a breath knowing that was a lie, but following your friends out of the house nonetheless.

This better be worth it.

The frat house is about as messy as you would’ve expected. Red solo cups are left on every surface of the house, and you were sure not a single one of them was filled with water. There was a crowd in the living room surrounding a game of foosball between two guys you were sure were on the football team.

At some point your group separated to go meet up with other people. This was exactly why you hated coming to parties. Within a minute of walking through the front door, Yuqi would met up with her drama club friends and Minnie left with some group of stoners. You walked around hoping to find something to drink to pass time.

You walked into the kitchen finding a small trio of familiar faces hovering around the fridge. Two of the three idiots were taunting the youngest while he stood confused. You slowly sneak up and approach them startling them at the sound of your voice.

“You guys some sort of watch dogs for the drinks or?”

“Jesus fuck when did you get here?”

You shrug, gesturing your hands for them to move from the fridge. “Like twenty minutes ago.” You grab a coke out of the fridge and crack it open taking a sip.

“You came alone little fox, or in your usual set?”

You cringed at the nickname used. Johnny, the eldest of the frat, loved to call you that because of how sneaky you were. It wasn’t ever purposely, you just happened to ‘pop up out of nowhere’ sometimes according to others.

“Yuqi and Minnie went to go find their own cliques.”

“And left you to fend for yourself? That’s not good manners.” Yuta was the second eldest although he acted far from it. He and Johnny had been underclass men to your brother when they were in high school so you guys were pretty close.

“Stealing one of Kun’s cokes isn’t well mannered either.” Johnny teased.

“He’ll live.” You say taking another sip.

“You really shouldn’t be wandering around all by yourself y/n, it’s not very safe.” Mark, the youngest chimes in. Mark was in a grade higher than you, you had never been very close with him until a year ago though, seeing as he began to spend time more with your friend group.

He was a quiet type, kept to himself a lot of the time, and was usually the victim of a joke. He was very sweet though. Minnie pointed out that the last frat party you couldn’t attend, he wouldn’t stop asking her about you.

When she told him you were sick he seemed concerned and gave her shit for just leaving you behind. You felt a blush creeping in at the thought of him carrying so much about you.

“Awww why do you care so much about y/n?” Yuta says squeezing the younger’s cheeks. He slaps his hand off of him and Yuta only bursts out laughing.

“He’s right little fox,” Johnny says directed to you. He was always trying to sound wise. “I mean didn’t you notice the way Sungchan has been eyeing you all night?”

You didn’t. Sungchan had hit on you at the last frat party your friends attended in which you respectfully declined. The way the guys were talking though was as if he was some stalker, your skin crawled at the thought.

“You’re just saying that.”

“It’s true. His attention is always on you, even when you’re not paying attention.”

“Let’s face it, she’s never paying attention.” Yuta adds.

“And that’s exactly why you gotta be careful. College men can’t be trusted.”

You scoff, “You do realize you are included in that generalization. College man.”

Yuta pokes Johnny, putting him on the spot. “She got you there.” The eldest only rolls his eyes. Yuta might seem drunk to most people, and maybe he was, but you and your friends knew he was just the playful type.

“I think Johnny is right, especially around this season. You never know what could happen.” Mark’s sentence trails off.

“Oh chills,” Yuta says raising his arm, “You gave me chills Mark. You’re talking about that Virgin taker right?”

Johnny’s eyebrows furrow, “I don’t think that’s the name.”

“Whatever you know what I mean. He slaughtered all those puritans didn’t he?”

“A little insensitive don’t you think?”

“What? You mad he couldn’t take yours too?” He replies with a wink and sip of his beer. You take it back, he was definitely drunk.

This time you let out a giggle, it was always fun being around these idiots. “Vestal. Can’t believe i’ve had to correct two people on that today.” You shake your head.

“Who was the first?” Mark asks curiously.

“Yuqi, speaking of, I should probably start looking for her. I’m ready to bounce.”

“I thought I saw she left out earlier with some girl with short hair?”

“Great. So she left me and Minnie to get laid.” You say sarcastically.

Johnny clicks his tongue. “You must’ve broken a mirror, little fox. Minnie left out with the boys to go get some food. Munchies, you know.”

You groan, sinking your head into your hand. “They drag me here for no reason. Okay i’m leaving now, i’ll see you guys when I do.”

“You walking alone?” Mark‘s voice comes out full of concern.

You shrug. “Seems like it.”

“I can walk you home if you don’t mind?” He suggests.

“Thank you, but really It’s okay.” You’re already heading towards the door, throwing your empty can in the trash when you hear Yuta’s voice.

“Careful Y/N, don’t let the virgin killer get ya.”

You keep your sight forward, flicking him off as you leave.

You walk through your front door, sliding the locks on instantly. Your shoulders drop, the stress leaving your body. Walking home alone was what you did regularly, only this time it felt different. It felt like someone was accompanying you, even if it was only you walking your regular route home.

The fifteen minutes felt longer than usual but that could’ve rang true since you stopped a few times to look around swearing you could feel eyes on you. That’s why as soon as you got home you turned on all of the lights in your home.

Stupid Yuta. He was always saying something to put you on edge.

You turn on the TV and are shocked to find that the news is still on.

“Due to a power outage the following locations have been left with no power over sixty percent of people are left with no clue on when it will be repaired. Schools and Universities have decided to postpone classes for the time being. People are outraged, some believing this upcoming blood moon could be the reasoning for the power outages.”

The list of cities and towns comes up. Melody, Lucville, Graze town , and 0 mile.

Lucville. That couldn’t be right, you had power right now. The phone rings loudly from the kitchen, pulling you from your thoughts. You get up to check, walking to the counter and pulling the phone to your ear.

“Hell–”

“Did you hear??? The campus closed down cause of some weird power thing, it’s not coming back til November.” Yuqi’s voice cuts yours off.

“I did yeah but that doesn’t make any sense,” You object, “my power’s working.”

“Yeah it’s only effecting places like the police stations and schools, some hospitals too. Don’t read too much into it just be happy we have no classes.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right.”

“I gotta go now, my bed calls me. I only called to make sure you got home. Minnie told me you left alone.”

“The bed or the person in it,” You hear her squeak like she’d been caught. “Don’t forget you owe me a clean room.”

“I’ll get to it tomorrow, promise.”

“Whatever.” You hang up.

At that moment you hear a knock at the front door. You check the time. 1:40am. Weird, your mom was held up at work and your father was still out of town. You walk over to the front door checking the peep hole and seeing nothing.

That’s strange.

You unlock the door and open it, looking around the area. It was just an empty street, not a single light was on from any house. You close the door guessing it could’ve been from the TV, when the phone rings again.

You walk over to the kitchen grabbing the phone. “Hello?”

You’re met with silence.

You scoff, “Yuta? If this is your idea of a prank you should really move on. Everyone’s seen Scream by now.” You hang up.

Even though you were very sure it was just Yuta who was prank calling, you can’t help but feel a shiver run down your spine. You reach up over the counter opening the cabinet to grab a glass when the phone rings again.

You jump, the glass dropping from your finger tips and crashing into the ground. You groan, carefully crossing the glass without stepping in it and reaching for the phone.

“Yuta I swear to god the next time I see you, you better have a jockstrap on!” You shout before being cut off.

“Woah y/n are you okay?”

You sigh in relief. “Mark?”

“Yeah, I was calling to make sure you got home safe. Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing, just got a bit spooked with a call earlier.”

“I’m guessing Yuta?”

“Ding Ding Ding. Guess i’m victim to his little halloween pranks.”

“I’ll talk to him about it.”

“Don’t bother, I can handle him.”

“I’m sure you can,” He chuckles, “Jockstrap?”

“It’s a clear warning in case he does want kids in the future.”

You can hear his smile through the phone, it helps ease your mind. “Assuming he doesn’t already have some running around?”

You let out a chuckle. “You’re right. He’ll be fine without any more.”

The laugh he lets out is contagious. “I gotta clean up a bit here, i’m glad you called though.” You meant it.

“Of course, wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. Who else would keep the guys in check?”

You can’t help the blush that fills your cheeks. “Bye, Mark.”

“I’ll see you later y/n.” The call ends.

You quickly clean up the mess before heading back into your brother’s old room to sleep. It was completely empty save for the TV left on a counter and a loan poster of Madonna on the wall.

You turn off the lights hoping to god you will make tomorrow’s morning shift at the diner.

It was about thirty minutes left of your shift before you were finally free. You rubbed your face to keep yourself awake. It was Monday morning shift and usually they weren’t that busy, but since classes were all canceled for the next week, you noticed a lot more students came to the diner.

You worked at Salty & Sweet Diner for over a year already. It gave you something to do when you weren’t at school so you wouldn’t have to spend all your time at home by yourself. It also gave you money you could use to go out with friends instead of depending on your parents.

“Looking terrible y/n.” The man who is next in line looks up at you with a mocking smile.

“As do you, What can I get for you today YangYang? Same as usual?”

He nodded, “Extra whipped cream don’t forget it.”

You write down his order on a notepad. “And you?”

“Are you on the menu?” Jaehyun jokes.

“Limited time only and you just missed it.”

Jaehyun and YangYang were usually in the frat basement getting high when they weren’t attending classes, so their presence today was surprising.

“The guys should be getting here soon.” Jaehyun comments, “Something about it being your shift so we should come over to annoy you?”

“I thought I mentioned if i see any of you in here i’ll have my manager ban you guys.”

“Nice try, Your manager was busy last night getting high with us.” YangYang points his finger at Minnie, who’s counting the register behind you.

The diner was owned by Minnie’s parents which is how you landed the job in the first place. You were great full most times, but not now. At that moment the door rings signaling another customer coming. You can spot the idiot from miles away.

“Y/N, how are you did you miss me?” He says enthusiastically. You roll your eyes.

“I wouldn’t even miss you if you died.”

“Ouch.” He grabs at his chest dramatically. Before you can berate him you’re cut off by the familiar, comforting voice.

“Hey y/n, how’s your shift going?” Mark says, his attention fixed onto you.

“It’s fine. What are you doing here?” You respond shyly.

“The guys wanted to annoy you but I only came to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m okay.” You could feel the awkwardness radiating off of your body.

“That’s good,” He clears his throat. “So, the guys were actually going to host another party this weekend. I was wondering if It’ll be okay if i keep my hopes up to see you.”

You wait a second before responding. “I can’t confirm whether you will be disappointed or not.” He nods at your answer when a voice cuts into your conversation.

“You won’t be. She will be there.” Minnie’s voice rings out.

You look at her, eyes wide. She only gives a tight smile. It’s her signature ‘Don’t even try it’ look.

Yuta speaks this time, “Great, so i’m guessing you will all three be there?”

“You guessed correctly.” She grins, “I’ll let Yuqi know about it. Y/N you can go now.”

“My shift isn’t over?”

“Yeah well I’m sure Hyungseo has no problem covering your shift for you.”

“Who‘s Hyungseo?” Yuta asks teasingly.

“The chef who can’t keep his eyes off of our little Y/N here,” Minnie winks at you. “Go on now Y/n, you can go.”

You give her a look before heading to the back to change out of your apron. Before you’re completely out of sight you can hear the group tease the youngest.

“You’re as red as Minnie’s old wash cloth right now.”

“Hey man knock it off.” Minnie replies.

Mark can only turn away, “I’m heading to the restroom.”

On your way out, a voice stops you in your tracks. Sungchan sits in his seat, a milkshake in front of him.

“Sungchan, i’m off the clock if you needed something I could let Minnie know.”

“Huh?” He turns his head to his drink realizing what it looks like to you, “No actually I just wanted to ask you.” He trails off his sentence. You stand there confused waiting for him to continue. “You’re going to be at Yuta’s party right?”

“I don’t really have a choice.”

His laughter is strained, “Well I was wondering if I see you there, would you want to–“

His voice is cut off by the yelling coming from where your group of friends stand. You see that two of the boys have decided to try and race to see who can finish their milkshake first, glad you clocked out before having to deal with that.

“Yeah i’ll see you there,” You say to Sungchan, leaving him to his drink. “I gotta go, enjoy your food.”

He nods giving you a small smile, “Bye Y/N.”

Once you’re home you can’t wait but head straight to the shower. You set the water to warm before stripping and standing directly under the stream of water. The warmth hits you and you let out a sigh, letting the water run down your body and soak into your hair.

Minutes pass of silence, the only sound being the running water. Your eyes are closed as you begin rinsing the remaining shampoo in your hair. You hear the faintest tap of the door, opening your eyes in an instant.

You turn the facet off stepping out of the shower and grabbing your towel, only now realizing your clothes weren’t there.

I swear I brought clothes?

Your heart drops as you begin to hear muffled voices coming from your house. You stand frozen in front of the bathroom door. You can hear your heart thumping as if it’s directly in your ears.

After moments of contemplating you choose to open the door. You follow the voices that are coming from the living room. The TV is on.

“Parents stand here today at the memorial sight with flowers and candles to honor the upcoming five year anniversary of the Vestal Murderer’s victims. The victims–“

You turn off the TV, deciding to ignore it and head back into your room to change into a pajama set.

October 19th

This party is boring. You had chosen to stick by Minnie’s side after experiencing the weirdest phenomenons for the past week. You had about three other times items had been misplaced in your home. You were slowly growing more agitated than anything, so when Minnie suggested you join them in their smoke session you didn’t decline.

You sat in between Minnie and YangYang, opting out of smoking after a single rotation. You weren’t a smoker so three puffs and one coughing fit later you were done for the night.

Your friends sat in a circle, recounting stories to one another. You couldn’t really focus on anything but keeping your eyes open though.

There’s a knock at the door, pulling your attention from the cup in your hands and towards the sound. Jaehyun gets up to get the door, speaking to the man on the other side with a hushed voice. It’s only when you lean to the side that you notice it’s Mark.

You turn over to Minnie by your side, tapping her shoulder to get her attention.

“I want to go get another drink.” Minnie nods her head, letting YangYang know she’s gonna be right back. You both sit up heading towards the door where Jaehyun looks annoyed.

“Is something wrong?” Minnie asks, inserting herself into their conversation.

“Just Johnny stealing our room for the night. He needs some ‘privacy’ for that girl he brought over.” He says rolling his eyes.

You couldn’t help but let out a giggle, it was funny that he was so bothered by something you knew for a fact he was very guilty of.

“You mad you couldn’t book it first?” Minnie jokes.

“Y/N, I thought you left?” Mark questions.

“No, well I was but then Minnie invited me up so,” You let out a breath motioning your hands to the room. “I’m here.”

You can hear laughter from Jaehyun and Minnie who find your current condition hilarious. It only makes you join their cackling. Mark stays watching the three of you very confused.

“Right,” He says slowly. “You guys are leaving now?”

“Just getting a refill.” Minnie brings her cup up showing the emptiness of it.

“You guys getting more drinks? Get me a–“

“Get it yourself.” You knock down Jaehyun before he can finish his sentence. He frowns. “Come on Minnie.” She follows you out the door, leaving the two boys to their own conversation.

You and Minnie stand in the kitchen, well Minnie stands. You’re sat on the counter as she searches the cabinets for more booze. You look over to the living room where you see a mix of unfamiliar and familiar faces engage in a game of Cup Pong.

“Here,” Minnie grabs your attention, handing your cup back to you. You grab it and take a sip, frowning at the taste. “It’s water. God knows you need it.”

You take another sip, setting it down on the counter afterwards. “Thanks.”

“You heard earlier right?” She says, taking a drink out of her own. You cock your head to the side, not picking up what she’s saying. “Siwon was asking what I was doing later tonight and if i wanted to ‘hang’.” She adds quotation marks with her fingers.

If you had the water in your hands you were very sure it would’ve spilled everywhere. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was.” Her face full of disgust.

“I too, wish you were.” Yuqi adds from behind you. You jump at her sudden appearance. “When did you get here?”

“Just now. Which reminds me,” She brings herself up onto the counter leaning in to the two of you. “You know that high school kid I told you guys about who joined our club, Minjae?” You both nodded. “He tried putting moves on me.”

Minnie chokes on her drink. Yuqi immediately hitting her back to help her catch her breath. “What the hell is wrong with you.”

“Right now?” You question in disbelief.

“While you two were busy getting stoned.”

Minnie lets out one last cough, “What did you say?”

“Of course not. That’s a kid, I want nothing to do with that.” Yuqi says almost offended that Minnie even had to ask.

“You were a high schooler when you hit on Soyeon.”

“Well yeah, but that’s different. Me and Soyeon were only a year apart. He’s like two years younger.”

Minnie shrugs, “You’re just scared he’s going to get attached if you take his V-Card like you did with Soyeon.”

“Hey,” She hits Minnie’s shoulder, “Next time i’ll let you choke.”

“You remember how you were, puppy eyes always following her around.” Minnie says bringing fists to her cheeks. “You were so cute before you chose to become a heartbreaker.”

Yuqi hits Minnie’s hands off of her. “Do you have a death wish?”

“Ah you’re so mean now.” Minnie whines, “Y/N, when you finally get to bed don’t become like Yuqi.”

“As if that would happen any time soon, guys aren’t exactly all over me. Besides, I want it to be special.” You say bringing your arms to your chest.

Yuqi makes a face at Minnie. The girls sharing a glance you aren’t able to understand.

“What?” You press.

“Don’t worry about guys not being interested in you, worry about the guard dog of yours keeping them from approaching.” Minnie speaks as if it’s an obvious answer.

“What do you mean?”

Before you can press any further a figure approaches your circle. “You guys okay?”

“Never better.” Yuqi smiles, hopping off of the counter.

You face where mark stands. You weren’t able to really take in his appearance earlier but now that he was leaning on the counter, you were able to dissect him as if he were a test subject on a science lab table.

You thought the water was helping sober you up but apparently not enough with the way your brain was making up horrible comparisons.

You couldn’t help the blush on your face as you noticed the outline of muscles on the man’s forearms. He wasn’t even flexing and they were still apparent.

His plain white tee didn’t stop your brain from what your friends would call ‘eye fucking’ the man in front of you. It fit him like a glove, capturing his broad shoulders and his chest the way you wish you could.

“You okay y/n?” He spoke, pulling you out of your trance.

“Uhh, yeah.” You turn to where your friends are smirking at you, reading you easily. “What were we talking about?”

“How it’s pretty late and you should get home soon.”

“And how Mark should probably take you back home.” Minnie adds smoothly.

“Would you be okay with that?” Mark looks over to you.

There’s a brief silence as everyone waits for your answer. You give a tight smile, “Sure.”

“Great, well we have to go.” Yuqi says pulling Minnie with her out of the kitchen, “See you tomorrow Y/N!”

You were lucky the man in front of you was so oblivious to your friend’s actions. You put your arms down to help get you off of the counter the way Yuqi did earlier. A pair of hands find their way around your waist before you can.

“Here let me help you.” Mark pulls you off the counter with no struggle. You can’t help the warmth creeping in your stomach from his grip around you.

“Thanks.” You say, his hands leaving your waist as you stand steady on your own feet. You hope he doesn’t notice the way you can’t look him in the eye. “Let’s go.”

The cool autumn air was enough to sober you up if only by a little. Mark walked silently beside you noticing the way you wrapped your arms around yourself trying to keep warm. You’re too busy thinking about how much longer this walk will be when you feel hands wrapping around your shoulder.

“You were shivering.” He says leaving his jacket on you.

“Thanks.” You mumble, feeling instant relief from the cool air.

You can smell a hint of vanilla on it, his signature cologne. You smile silently to yourself bringing your hands to your mouth to warm them, and to keep him from noticing the faint pink in your cheeks.

“I’m glad I can walk you home, I was a bit worried last time you answered the call sounding panicked.”

You recall the memory. He did sound a bit startled through the phone. “I’m okay, i’m glad you get to walk me home anyway.”

There’s another round of silence. You notice your street in the distance, trying to come up with what to say. He speaks before you’re able to utter a word.

“You look really pretty tonight by the way.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. He realizes how his sentence came off, backtracking his earlier statement. “You always look pretty I mean. I just– You really suit my jacket.”

“I don’t know if I should thank you for the jacket or the compliment.”

“You don’t have to thank me at all, i’m only stating the obvious.”

You look up smiling at him which feels so easy to do whenever he’s around. You notice the beauty marks all over his face and neck, wishing you could analyze them closer.

“That’s my place over there.” You break the silence pointing over to your house. He looks to you, “I’m glad you have arrived safely.”

“I’m glad you could bring me.”

You both are standing face to face for a moment, observing each other and waiting for someone to make the first move. He speaks first.

“I don’t want to hold you in the cold for any longer.”

You reach to take off his jacket, “Oh, here’s your–“

“No need,” he cuts you off. “You pull it off better than I ever have.”

“I beg to differ.” You’re hoping he can take a hint. “But I guess once I wear another clothing item of yours we can see who pulls off your clothes better.”

“Feel free to invite yourself over anytime for access to my wardrobe.”

“Or I can pull this one off you now?” You joke, pulling him closer by his shirt. You’re unsure where your sudden boldness is coming from, perhaps you weren’t completely sober after all.

He leans in closer, staring into your eyes and shifting his gaze to your lips. He was definitely not as dense as you thought. You lean in closer, his fingers grazing your lips.

A sudden noise pulls you guys apart from each other. You look to the ground, embarrassed by how brazen you came off. He reaches into his pocket, grabbing his pager and reading off a message.

“Do you need to go already?”

He lets out heavy sigh as if he was disappointed in the distraction, “Yeah, that was Yuta he wants for me to stay over the night.”

You’re shocked, always having assumed he had stayed with the rest of the frat members. “Oh, I thought you lived there?”

“No, My parents actually got me a place here for my studies so it’s just me.”

“I see, it’s the same for me.” You point again at your home. “Thank you for walking me, please make sure you get back safely.”

“My pleasure, have a nice night Y/N.” He waves his hand as you begin walking towards your home.

“Ditto.” You shout out loud enough for him to hear you as you walk up to your home pulling your key out.

“What did you do!” You let out a gut wrenching scream. The entire floor was painted red, you look down and notice your hands full of blood.

You jump out of your nightmare, sweat lining your body. The house is silent, your alarm clock emitting a red gleam. It reads 4:26am.

You sit in bed rubbing the last of the tiredness in your eyes deciding it’d better to keep yourself awake for a while longer. You get up heading towards your kitchen to grab a glass of water.

As you reach the kitchen you decide to turn the TV on to calm your nerves for the time being. The news is on again. You take a sip out of your water paying half a mind to what is being reported.

“It’s been 48 hours since the disappearance of Jung Sungchan, his parents report he was last seen on October 17.”

Sungchan? He had said he would go to the party when you last saw him just a few days ago. You think back realizing you hadn’t seen him at all tonight. You feel your heart sink, placing your glass down and running to your house phone.

“Hello?” Minnie’s voice comes out hoarse. You can tell you’d just woken her from her sleep but you’re too startled to apologize.

“Sungchan is missing.”

“Huh?”

“He’s gone I just saw on the news they said it’s been days. I’m freaking out I just talked to him on Monday this has to be a joke right?”

“Y/N–“ You can barely hear her over your panicked thoughts.

“This is happening all over again, they’re saying it’s him again.”

You feel your eyes begin to water, “There’s been weird things happening, I hear knocks and my TV turns on all the time for no reason.” “Y/N.”

“Minnie, He was so close before,” You take a breath, “What if I’m next?”

“Y/N!” She yells out causing you to jump. “Relax, you’re okay. Nothing is going to happen.”

You don’t say anything so she continues, “I’m pretty sure I saw Sungchan after you left with Mark okay? Also, those knocks are probably just neighborhood kids. Remember when you said they’d always egg your neighbors around halloween?”

You let out a breath, “Yeah, you’re right.”

“See so there’s nothing to worry about, it’s all in your head cause Yuta kept saying shit. You’re okay and nothing going to happen.”

You realize how stupid you might’ve sounded now. Minnie was right, nothing was wrong until Yuta put all of that into your head. You’re just overthinking it.

“Thank you.” You let out softly.

She gives a sound of acknowledgment, “You know if you ever feel scared, my house is always open to you.”

“It’s fine I think I was just paranoid but i’m okay now.”

“Well just letting you know. Do you want to stay on the phone?”

“No it’s okay, i’ll let you get back to sleep.”

“Make sure you’re getting some sleep too alright?” She yawns. “God knows we need it for tomorrow.”

“Oh crap.” You had forgotten about the annual fundraiser held at the frat house. It was meant to raise money for the victims families of the Vestal Murders. You and your friends had promised to be there. “It totally slipped my mind.”

“If you can’t go don’t sweat it, you have a lot on your plate anyway.”

“No, i’ll be there.”

“Okay well I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Y/N.”

“Night.”

October 20th

After a day of setting up different games for the fundraiser you were able to sit and relax. Yuqi, who’s sitting beside you passes a bottle of coke to you.

“Thanks.” You reply, taking a sip of the drink and setting it down.

“Can’t believe we had to help set up, i just want to go home.”

You give a wry smile, “Yeah i’m pretty exhausted, had a tough time sleeping.” She’s about to respond when someone calls her from the distance. “I’m going!” She turns to face you, “Go, we’re done here anyway.”

She walks away meeting with YangYang at the steps of the house. You close your eyes lying back against the couch you’re on. You can hear voices around you but don’t try enough to make out what they’re all talking about. Footsteps approach you, you open your eyes to see who it is.

“The games haven’t even began and you’re tired already?”

Mark is standing above you, you take in the fitted black shirt he has on. You admire the turtleneck he has on, it really fits him even though it covered his neck moles you loved to stare at.

“I’m only resting, it’s been a long day.”

He hums, taking a seat beside you. “Then i’ll join you, you can use me as a pillow if you’d like.”

You take his offer, lying your head on his shoulder which is much more comfortable than the couch if you were being honest. You close your eyes and feel his hand start to play with your hair, purring at the feeling.

“Yo, you guys gonna just sit there or you wanna join?” Johnny shouts to you and Mark.

You look up at him, still resting your head on him. His face is so close you pull away and get up. “We’re going.” He follows behind you.

You can see a few of your friends lined up to play apple bobbing. You remember how you played once when you were younger, you freaked out and inhaled the water. Inhyuk had to pull you out to stop you from choking.

“You wanna play?” Yuta says, smirking at the two of you.

“Uh I’m good.” You say, looking up at Mark.

“Come on, show them how you use that mouth of yours.” Minnie winks at you from in line.

You shove into her with your forearm, she laughs it off. “Really I’m okay, Mark?”

“Actually mind if I show you something instead?”

“Ohhh, he’s going to show you what his mouth can do.” Yuta mocks, this time he earns a shove from Mark.

You give her a scornful look, “Sure let’s go.”

He holds your hand pulling you from behind him, leading the way. You guys walk past the crowds of people, making your way through the house. You realize he’s taking you to the basement so you speak up.

“Didn’t know you were a smoker, Lee.”

He chuckles, “Not quite.” You both are still hand in hand when he takes you to a corner room in the basement that you hadn’t noticed before.

“What’s this?”

“You’ll see,” He opens the door revealing a room filled with Halloween candy and a blanket on the floor. You look around noticing the TV in the room with VHS tapes of different movies laid out on the floor. “Do you like it?”

You look up at Mark seeing how he’s awaiting your answer. You pull him in for a hug, squealing in delight.

“This is so sweet.”

“Minnie told me you had been having a rough time, thought this might cheer you up.” He smiles, “Did it work?”

“It did more than work. Mark, thank you.” You look up at him, holding his gaze for a moment. You’re both only an inch from each other, you look at his lips wondering how soft they’d feel on yours.

His voice comes out rough, “We should watch a movie, yeah?” though he makes no effort to step away from you.

You take a look at him, his eyes won’t leave your mouth so you move in closer. “We can always watch later.”

He lets out a chuckle before pulling you in for a kiss. His lips feel so soft on yours, it’s everything and more than you had imagined. It’s rough and possessive, stealing your breath right from your mouth.

He bites onto your lip earning a moan from your lips, you pull away embarrassed by the noise you’d let out. “I’m sorry I don’t know why I did that.”

He lets out a breathless laugh, “Don’t apologize, I love those sounds from you.” He pulls you in again, the kiss becoming even heavier than before.

You can feel his tongue trace the bottom of your lips asking permission to deepen the kiss. You accept, beginning to explore his own mouth. You bite his lip, earning a groan from him, you thought that might be the sexiest noise you’d ever heard before.

He grabs onto your cheek with one hand and your waist with the other. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re so perfect you know that?” You can barely respond before he begins to pull you in once more.

“Mark,” You plead breathlessly, pulling away from him. “I need to tell you something.”

He hums, beginning to kiss down your neck. You squirm at the feeling. “I haven’t– Fuck. I’ve never done this before.”

He slowly pulls away from you, confusion evident on his face. “Oh.” He can tell how embarrassed you feel admitting it so he adds promptly. “We don’t have to do anything. I’m not going to force you to do anything I just thought a movie would be nice.”

You find his distressed state amusing, “I– yeah that’s fine.”

He smiles, about to put a movie in when you hear a knock from the door.

“Y/N, we gotta go. Yuqi’s parents want her home already.” Minnie appears at the door.

You nod remembering the plans you guys had made to hang out after the fundraiser. Fuck, you wished you could stay with Mark for longer, especially considering how much effort he’d put into spending time with you.

“Yeah, okay i’ll be right there.” You say a little breathlessly, hoping she doesn’t notice it. She gives you an all knowing smile as she closes the door, “Be quick.”

You frown at the fact that you have to leave early, Mark quickly comes to your defense. “Hey it’s okay, we can save it for next time.” He puts his hands on your shoulder pulling you for a hug.

“I wish I didn’t have to leave.” You pout.

He laughs, finding you adorable. “I wish you didn’t have to go either, but we have plenty of time together, right?”

You nod, “Right. I’ll see you next time okay?”

“Get home safely y/n.” You head for the door before stopping in your tracks and turning around. Mark looks confused until you pull him in once more for a short and sweet kiss.

“Goodbye Mark.” You say pulling away and leaving out the door.

“Naughty naughty girl, y/n.” Minnie tsks, tapping her finger over your head.

You push her hand away. “Shut up, let’s go.”

She laughs following you close behind.

“I still don’t know why my parents felt the need to be party poopers, they could’ve asked the neighbor to feed that damn dog.” Yuqi complains.

Minnie gasps, “I love Haku!”

“Whatever, Oh there it is!” Yuqi, says pointing down at Phantom Halloween Store.

Your friends race down to get there first, you choose to continue walking instead. There’s a TV store to the right showing a news report.

“There’s been yet another disappearance reported since a body was discovered earlier today. Police have not made a comment on the identity of the individual or what another disappearance could mean for the town of Lucville. The public demands answers. Could it be possible that the Vestal Murderer is back for another halloween or a copy cat killer has taken his place?”

“Y/N!” Yuqi’s voice calls after you from ahead. “You coming?”

You choose to ignore the rest of the report, “Im going!”

“I think this would look great on you.”

“Cat Woman?” Minnie raises her eyebrow.

“You’d look really sexy, that’s what halloweens all about, right y/n!”

“Exactly, come on Minnie, you gonna finally try and get the attention of Yuta?”

She scowls at the both of you, snatching the suit out of Yuqi’s hands. “I’m trying it on, that’s all. No promises.”

“Yesh right, you’ll rock it anyway.” You both tease her as she steps into the dressing room.

“So y/n, what are you dressing as?” Yuqi asks.

“I don’t know i’ll probably just dress as is.”

She looks as if you ate her dog, “It’s halloween. A costume is a must. No ifs or buts!”

“You think rhyming is going to help me change my mind?” You raise an eyebrow at her, minding your business looking through the masks.

“What about Mark,” You stop in your tracks, feigning a cough. “What about him?”

“Don’t you wanna do more than just make out in the basement of a frat house?”

You roll your eyes, “Minnie told you.”

“Yeah well i’m offended you didn’t!” She retorts. “If you want to impress him then you have got to dress up.”

You sigh, halloween costumes weren’t really your thing, but you didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb being the only one not dressed up.

Yuqi smirks knowing she’s got to you. “Who knows,” she shrugs, “Maybe he will end up killing your virginity.”

Your ears go red, “Yuqi!” Her eyes go wide, stepping away from you. “Why are you so loud! Do you know how embarrassing you are?”

“Please spare me okay!” She yelps as you grab onto her shirt.

“Wow y/n I didn’t take you for a bully.” Johnny’s deep voice sounds from behind you both. You let go of Yuqi, allowing for her to fix her shirt.

“You make it a habit of stalking us?”

“Ah yes, cause we came here purely to track your group of friends down.” Yuta remarks sarcastically, “A halloween store, when it’s is less than a week away.”

“We came here to look for some last minute decorations.” Mark comments before you and Yuta can begin your bickering.

“We’re here for costumes, Y/N here has got the perfect one planned.” Yuqi states, her arm sneaking around your shoulder.

“Really? What is it?” Mark looks to you.

“It’s a surprise!” Yuqi squeaks out. You’re thankful for it because you wouldn’t have known what to say at all.

“Good, you should show us at the Halloween party we’re throwing this weekend.” Johnny utters, reaching into his pocket. He pulls an invitation flier to the party, passing it to you. “It’s a costume party so make sure you’re all there.”

“All of you.” Yuta adds, “Speaking of, where’s your third?”

At that moment Minnie walks out of the dressing room. The latex suit wraps around her body hugging her figure, the mask is on too bringing out her natural cat eyes, and in her hand she grips a whip as a signature weapon.

“So do you guys think–“ the words die on her tongue. She freezes looking at the group in front of her, one of them being Yuta.

“You wanna be my dominatrix Minnie?” Yuta jests.

She turns red at his comment and closes the dressing room door, hiding behind it.

“We’ll be there.” You say.

October 30th

It felt like Halloween had came early, there were piles of candies and treats left all over the kitchen counter as well as a punch bowl you were eighty percent sure was spiked. The blood moon stood bright in the night and true its name, painting the dark sky red.

You had just arrived no longer than ten minutes ago and your friends had already happened to disappear out of sight. You made your way to the counter grabbing a red solo cup to serve yourself the blood colored punch.

“You actually want to drink that?” Mark’s voice startles you, causing you to drop the ladle back into the punch.

“Well I guess not.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think you’d get scared.” He says, his hands going up in defense.

“It’s fine, i’ll just take a beer.” You reach for the refrigerator.

“You look beautiful,” He states, “Carrie right?”

You look down at the silk champagne colored dress you have on. “Yeah, did the crown give it away?”

“More so the blood on the costume but the crown too.”

You let out a giggle, “And you, Michael Myers?” You say almost as a question.

“Ding Ding Ding! I had my mask earlier but Yuta insisted on letting him borrow it for the time being, something about prancing the neighborhood kids?”

“Wow, he really is a menace. Is it bad i’m glad i’m not the target of his pranks though?”

He laughs, “I mean it is trick or treat right? The kids shouldn’t be that mad.”

You smile at him, he was always so playful with his words. You felt as if he understood you in ways not any other person could. You couldn’t stop your mind from remembering the kiss you both shared not too long ago.

He opened his mouth but no words came out. You felt a surge of boldness in the moment so you decided to speak for him.

“So Mark Myers, you wanna head back to the basement and finish what we started?”

You never could get used to the way he kissed you. He was always so quiet it was shocking to see this side of him. The one that was almost starving for your lips.

You sat on his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, his hands gripping your hips on him. You pulled away to take a breath, his lips attaching themselves to your throat.

“Fuck– Mark.” You groan, his mouth beginning to sprinkle bruises all over your neck. He kisses behind your ear, causing you to involuntarily grind your hips down.

He gasps at the sudden contact, “You’re driving me crazy.”

You let out a moan, continuing to grind your hips down.

You whine, the fabric in between you both making it hard for you to feel relief.

“Y/N baby,” He stops your movements with his hands on your hips. “ I don’t want to push you to do anything but you’re really making it hard.”

“You’re not pushing anything. I want this, I want you.”

“Fuck– I can’t hold you back.”

“Then don’t.” You say, pulling him in for another deep kiss. He kisses into your mouth, his tongue exploring you. You moan into the kiss beginning to build up the pace of your hips, his bulge growing as you continue to work yourself onto him.

“I feel so close.” You let out eagerly.

“Come on baby, come for me.” He begins to force your hips down, building more friction to your heat.

You can feel your high approaching rapidly, gripping onto his shoulders tight, your nails digging into his skin. He hisses at the feeling, you let out a weak apology.

“It’s okay, just be a good girl and finish, yeah?”

His words are enough to bring you to the edge. You feel your legs shake as your orgasm takes over your entire body. You bite down on his shoulder, trying to keep from screaming at the euphoric sensation.

He helps you ride out your orgasm until your body begins shaking with aftershocks. He lifts your face to look at him, his features soft. “How are you feeling?”

You can’t help but pull him in for another kiss, he’s shocked but returns it. You pull away looking up at him, pupils dilated and your voice coming out shy, “I want more.”

“Are you sure?” He asks slowly.

You nod your head, “Please.”

He hums, lifting you off of him so he can get up to check his counter for protection. You sit on the mattress waiting for him to find it, growing shyer as the seconds pass.

“I’ll go check upstairs for one, I’m sure Yuta’s got some lying around.” He states, “I’ll be back quickly okay?”

You nod your head, he steps out of the room to go look. You lift the blanket to cover your face, realization of the events hitting you. You were glad nobody was in the room so you could have time to blush over how good you felt.

You heard foot steps approach the door, assuming Mark had found Yuta’s pack of condoms. “Come in!”

Mark opens the door, looking tense. “We gotta go, police showed up crashing the party. Everyone has to leave.”

You both make it to your front door, out of breath for semi running the entire trip home. His hand never left yours throughout the trip and it doesn’t leave yours now. You can’t help but fidget with his fingers that you’ve only now noticed are so much bigger than yours.

“I wonder what tipped them off.” You say referring to the way the police had shut down the party.

“Something about a curfew, no parties for the time being.” He shrugs. “Listen y/n.”

Your fingers don’t stop tracing his palm as you await his sentence. “How about we hang out soon like a date?”

“Oh!” Your hands stop, taken aback by his unabashed state.

He continues, linking his hand into your own. “I’m more than just interested in you, and i’d like to show you that.”

You offer a measly smile. “I’d really like that.”

His answer’s coy. “Great, I’ll see you next time then yeah?”

You nod, he releases your hand beginning to walk away. “Bye Mark.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You ran into your home closing the door behind you hoping he didn’t notice your bashfulness as you bid him farewell. You bite your lip to calm yourself down, letting out a squeal of excitement.

A ring coming from the kitchen pulls you out of your cheerful state. You head towards the phone picking it up as it’s on the last ring.

“Yuqi? Minnie? DId you guys get home safe?”

The line is silent until you make out a strangled scream through the phone. You instantly drop it, beginning to panic. You hear muffled wheezing through the phone, choosing to pick it up again.

“Who the fuck is this? Is this the same number as before?” Your voice comes out horror-struck. “What the fuck do you want.”

The voice comes out restrained, “You.”

The line goes dead. You hear a knock on the door, grabbing a knife from the counter top and hugging it to your chest. The knocking gets louder, the doorknob twisting.

“Please just leave me alone!” You cry out.

“Y/N, it’s me. Please just open the door.” Marks voice rings out.

You run towards the door unlocking it and letting him in. He picks the knife out of your hands tossing it to the side and pulling you into his arms. You aren’t sure when you began hysterically crying but his embrace helped soothe you.

“What happened baby, talk to me.” You take in a breath, looking over to the phone.

“They won’t stop calling. I don’t know who it is or what they want from me.” You struggle to speak.

“Hey hey it’s okay.” He holds onto you tighter, “I’m here okay?”

Your sobs dwindle, your breathing becoming more steady.

“Do you want me to stay?” He asks.

You shake your head, “I don’t want to be here, not right now.”

He contemplates for a moment, “Would you want to stay at my place for tonight then?”

You nod your head, wiping your tears from your face.

“Please.”

You take in the place, it’s empty besides the couch and TV in the living room and a few plants scattered around. The house smells oddly clean, which wasn’t something you expected from a college man but you weren’t going to complain.

“You can take a seat i’ll get you a water.” He says pointing at the velvet couch in the corner of the living room.

“Thank you.” You smile, taking a seat. It’s pretty comfortable for being a living room couch, you decide you can stick to sleeping there tonight. Leaving early tomorrow so you won’t cause any disturbance.

You look to the wall, a clock hangs on it reading 2:30am. You wonder if Yuqi or Minnie made it home earlier, hoping that none of them ended up in a jail cell tonight.

Mark appears in front of you, a glass of water in his hand. “Here you go,” He offers. You accept the glass taking it out of his hands.

He takes a seat next to you, offering some distance so you can sit comfortably. You chug down half of the water, setting it down beside you onto the floor.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asks with a soft tone as if to not scare you.

“It’s everything I said before, I just feel very paranoid these days.” You shake your head, “I keep getting this weird feeling, I feel like someone’s been stalking me.”

His eyes go wide, “Do you know who?”

You let out a sigh, “I haven’t seen anyone, I just feel in my gut like something bad is going to happen if it hasn’t already.” He remains silent allowing you space to explain.

“I never told anyone this, but I keep having like a weird sense of deja vu. I remember so clearly that around this time five years back there was always this same feeling, like I was being followed or watched in every corner.”

You release a shaky breath, “I don’t know why but I think this person whoever he is. I feel like he wants me next.”

Mark breaks his silence, “The Vestal killer?”

“I think so.”

“That can’t be the case right? The police said he must’ve disappeared when he could after the murders right?”

You shrug, “I don’t know if that’s true. All I know is someone has been using me as a pawn in their game for the past weeks.”

“You’re right,” He responds. “Do you want to talk to Yuqi or Minnie maybe? Maybe they might have had the same feeling?”

You nod in agreement, “Yeah okay, can I borrow your phone please?”

“Of course, it’s in my room first door to your left.” You thank him before heading through the hallway into his room.

You pick up the phone beginning to dial in Yuqi’s number, there’s no answer. You try giving another attempt this time to Minnie’s number, she doesn’t pick up. You opt for sending a message to Minnie’s pager, glad you happened to remember to carry yours with you tonight.

911.

You hear Mark’s footsteps approaching, opening the door to check on you.

“None of them picked up, i’m hoping they’re not in jail or something.”

Mark chuckles, “I doubt it, I got a call from Yuta. He ran out with Minnie before the cops showed up.”

“Wow, glad to know they were having fun while shit hit the fan.” You reply sarcastically.

“They wouldn’t be the only ones.” Mark teases, referring to the events that took place between the two of you moments before the party was crashed.

You blush at the memory. “I don’t believe I recall, mind reminding me?”

He offers a coy smile, approaching you slowly. “You sure you don’t remember?” He closes the distance between you two, his arms locking you in between him and the counter.

Like muscle memory, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “Not at all, You going to try and jog my memory?”

He contemplates for a moment, “I’ll make sure you don’t forget again.” He says before leaning in for a brutal kiss.

His mouth tastes sweet, youd guess it’s from the halloween candy you noticed on his counter earlier. You grip his arms pulling him closer to lick and taste all over his mouth.

His arms find their way around your waist pulling you even closer to him if that’s possible. You begin to feel the growing bulge against you, disconnecting yourself from the kiss to suck on his neck instead.

He lets out a gasp, feeling your hands find their way down to his bulge and palming it through his pants.

“Fuck– I thought you said you’d never done this before.”

“I haven’t.”

He pulls in closer to your neck, whispering directly into your ear. “Then how is it that you’re already so perfect for me.”

You suck in a breath, your neck sensitive to his touch. He takes advantage of your position, biting down into your neck. It’s not enough to draw blood but enough to get you to release a moan.

He pulls your dress from off of you, your body shivering from the exposed air. “You’re beautiful.” He says, pulling you in for another kiss.

Your body feels on fire, the pleasure is only building up making you want more. You undo his belt, your hand pushing into his pants to grab onto his dick.

He lets out a groan, pulling you up from the counter and onto his bed instead. He pulls away, lying you down on the flat surface. “Tell me now if you don’t want to go any further.”

There’s no way in hell you were going to stop anytime soon. “Let’s finish what we started.”

He took his shirt off, and you took in a breath. His body was toned, his chest and collarbones looked perfect to leave bruises and bites all over.

“Take them off.” He growled. You began to unclasp your bra, your chest falling free. He falls to his knees, tugging your legs closer to him. His head in between your thighs.

You can feel his breath on your cunt, “Fuck baby your pussy is soaking already.”

You gasp, feeling his knuckle begin to trace your slit. “Markie please.” You plead for him to touch.

“Please what baby? Use your words.”

“Please touch me.”

The second the words leave your lips, you feel his mouth on you. You yelp, his mouth connecting straight to your clit, sucking onto it roughly. He eats you out with the same harshness he kisses you with. You can’t complain though, not when his mouth makes you feel like you’ve reached the gates of heaven.

The wet sound of him eating you out only adds to your arousal. You can’t help but squirm, his arms keep you from moving too much though. “Careful baby, i’m trying to feed here.”

His tongue begins fuck into your pussy, pulling a loud moan from you. You cover your mouth to muffle the sounds as much as possible. He pulls away, you whine at the loss of contact.

“Don’t hide your noises, I want to hear how loud you get when I make you cum.” You uncover your mouth as he gets back to work, this time focusing on sucking your clit. Your hips roll feeling your orgasm fast approaching.

“Markie please don’t stop” You beg.

You feel two fingers slide into your pussy, the stretch feels so good. You roll your hips chasing your climax. The stimulation from his fingers penetrating you leave you breathless. You repeat his name over and over like a mantra.

“Markie please I want to cum. Please let me cum.”

With one last thrust of his fingers and a suck on your clit you reach your high, your eyes seeing white. He draws out your orgasm, stopping only when you hiss at the overstimulation.

You let out a breath, looking him in his eyes as he begins to undresses himself. He grabs the condom from the drawer and pulls his cock out of his boxers.

You can’t help but stare right at him, your mouth watering at the sight of his long and thick cock. There was a large vein that ran through it, his tip glowing red. You weren’t experienced but you’d seen films before, and his looked like one straight out of a porno.

He gives it a few pumps before tearing open the packaging and wrapping it around his shaft. “We’re not done yet.”

You feel him lay over you, lining his cock with your entrance. He looks to you before pushing inside, “Are you ready?” You nod. “Yes.”

He pushes himself into you, taking breaks in between to help you catch your breath. “Relax baby, god you’re so fucking tight.”

His dick looked big, but it felt even larger. You felt a slight pain as he slowly pushed himself fully in. “Fuck– Mark you’re so big.”

“It’s okay baby, it’s almost fully inside.” You nod your head, your eyes closing wishing for him to just get on with it.

His dick pushes inside you once again pulling a gasp from you. You swear you can feel it in your stomach.

“That’s it baby.” You open your eye to look down and see his hips connecting to yours, he’s bottomed out. He tests a small thrust and you let out a moan.

“Markie, you can fuck me already.” Your words are enough to snap him back into his lustful self. He starts a slow and steady pace, thrusting into you.

You let out a few noises, tears beginning to line your eyes. He notices, wiping your face with his hand. “Please kiss me.” He leans into you, kissing you gently.

You close your eyes into the kiss, feeling his lips suck your own. You pull away, a moan escaping your lips once he hits your sweet spot. “There– right there.”

He quickens his pace, pistoling his cock attacking your g-spot. Your legs wrapping around his waist, to keep him from pulling any further away from you.

“I’m close–“ You let out, his thrusts getting quicker and stronger.

“Me too.” He groans. His fingers slipping to your sensitive bud, rubbing circles making you scream in pleasure. With the next few thrusts you feel your body convulse, clenching down on him. Your nails scratch down his arms, he hisses at the sting. You reach your second climax of the night, your legs shaking from the aftershocks.

He lets out growl, the feeling of your climax triggering his own. With one last thrust, he’s finishing into the condom. He pulls out of you, you let out a whine at the feeling.

He disposes of the condom, pulling a blanket over the both of you and wrapping his arms around your body.

“I don’t think I can work my legs anymore.” You joke, closing your eyes and catching your breath.

He laughs and pulls you in closer, “That’s okay, you’re all mine now so you have no use for them anyway.”

You let out an awkward laugh. His joke coming out a bit empty. You have no time to comment on it before you feel your eyes begin to shut on their own.

You wake up the next morning bed empty. You remember the events of last night, pulling the covers over your head to hide your embarrassment. The shower is running from what sounds like the room over.

Mark is showering, I should probably go join him.

You smile to yourself and try getting up from the bed, your legs wobbly.

Oh fuck.

You slowly and carefully try walking out of the room, finding the TV on from the living room.

“After days of searching, two bodies have been found early this morning by Velvet lake. No suspects have been identified as of now, though police have said a mask was found at the crime scene.” You inhale sharply at the mask on the TV.

No, it can’t be.

“Halloween festivities have began despite police efforts to ensure proper curfew. The mask found, one of Michael Myers, will be hard to trace back, as the costume happens to be a popular one.”

You stand frozen, hearing the words repeat in your head.

There’s no way it was Mark, he was here the whole time last night.

“This just in, the bodies are presumed to be missing persons Jung Sungchan and Choi Minjae. They were discovered only an hour ago, police reporting it’s possible they could’ve just missed the killer.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Mark woke earlier than you, is it possible he’s showering now to get rid of the evidence. You begin to slowly make your way towards the bedroom to make a phone call.

You dial Minnie, praying to any god that she picks up. There’s no answer. You let out a frustrated sigh, redialing to try and see if it’ll work this time.

Come on Minnie, pick up.

The shower stops. You panic, leaving the phone on the counter and slowly stepping out of the room to leave the house. It’s as you turn the corner that you hear a click from another room.

You turn to the room on the right, finding the door slightly ajar and squeezing through it. You hear another sound of clicking coming from below the steps.

You tiptoe down the steps, finding the room filled with field tools and rope scattered everywhere. It isn’t until you turn the corner that your eyes are filled with horror.

You spot a familiar figure tied to a chair, repeatedly hitting his watch against the seat making a clicking noise. You let out a gasp, his eyes finding your own in pure terror.

Hyungseo? What the fuck was he doing here tied up.

You head over to him pulling the rope from his mouth. “Y/N you have to leave now.”

“What are you talking about.” You whisper, beginning to untie his hands.

“He is insane. You have to leave now it’s not safe.”

“I’m not going to leave you here for yourself.” You dismiss his words. “Come on we’re going.”

His hands are tied with a rope, you lean down to try and undo the knot, not finding success in tugging. “Y/N?” You hear from upstairs. Your eyes go wide at his voice calling you.

You stand, putting a finger over your mouth gesturing for Hyungseo to keep silent. In the corner of your eye you notice the wall of tools again, grabbing a sickle from off of it.

You can hear Mark’s footsteps closely approaching. You cover your mouth and hold in your breath hoping he doesn’t notice you. The door closes from up the stairs. You take in a breath before standing from your hiding place.

“There you are.” His voice comes out from behind you. You jump walking backwards as he steps forward. “Was looking all over for you little fox.”

You can barely let out any words, “What the fuck is this. Why is Hyungseo here.”

He looks genuinely appalled at your question, “What do you mean what is this? It’s all for you.”

“What?” You speak in a whisper.

“I did this for you.” He says stepping closer. “These guys are nothing compared to you, their perverted minds thinking they could ever please you the way you need.”

You hit the wall, sucking in a breath as his hand cups your face. “You’re so pure y/n I had to make sure they wouldn’t get in the way of that.”

His thumb traces your lips, you turn your face away. “That’s not what I want. You’re hurting innocent people.”

“It’s what you need y/n. It’s a shame you can’t see that.”

He pulls away, grabbing onto your wrist that’s holding the sickle. He takes it from your grip throwing it off to the side. “Was that for me? You think i’d let that happen?”

“Leave me alone,” You feel a tear roll down your cheek. “Please.”

“Hey,” He wipes your face. “I’m not going to hurt you baby. I’m protecting you.”

He walks over to where Hyungseo sits, “From him.” He pulls a knife from his pocket, “These fuckers.”

“Don’t hurt him please. Come on let’s talk about this.” You step to the side, closer to the tools on the wall.

“There’s nothing to talk about y/n. He doesn’t deserve to even breathe your air.” He drags the knife against Hyungseo’s throat. You hear the man cry out from fear.

“These men surround themselves around you hoping for a chance to take you for themselves.” He punctures his arm, Hyungseo screaming from the injury.

“Mark stop.” You grab a screwdriver from the wall, hiding it behind your back. “Please just let him go, I’ll stay with you just don’t hurt anyone else.”

He stops, looking into your eye. “I’m not asking for you to stay with me forever, that’d be unfair to you.” He frowns stepping closer to you, “I love you y/n. I’m doing this for your own good.”

You shake your head, “You’re doing this because you’re fucking insane.” He lets out a cold laugh, “If that’s what you think so be it, but I know what you need.”

“You don’t know shit.” You say, grabbing the screwdriver from your pocket and shoving it through his abdomen.

“Fuck–“ He grips his side, you push him away running to where Hyungseo sits, cutting him free from the rope. “You want to play it like this? Really babe.”

“Fuck you, i’m not your babe.” He grabs onto your hair pulling you closer to him with one hand. “I already did.”

You knock your elbow into his wound, escaping from his hold as soon as his hand lets you go. “Hurry.” Hyungseo says from up the stairs, grabbing onto your hand and helping you run up further.

You both run through the hallway, Mark close behind. “You have to go. I’ll call for help.”

“I’m not going to leave you here.”

“Go,” You warn him sternly, “I’ll hold him back.”

“I’ll look for help.” He says before running out of the door. You pick up the phone from his room dialing 911. The phone line is dead.

“You really think i’m that stupid to leave the phone connected?” You jolt from his sudden appearance. “Just leave it alone y/n if we leave now we will catch him in time. His leg is pretty bruised he won’t be able to make it so far.”

“Don’t do this please.”

“I think i’ve told you already, I’m doing this for your own good.”

His hands smoother your face, the blood left on them transferring to your face. “That’s exactly why I got rid of Sungchan, he strayed too close. He knew you were mine and yet he couldn’t hold himself back so I had to take him out.”

“No.” You cry.

“And Jihoon, he was all you ever looked at. You were falling right into his trap, into his temptations.”

“Then what about Minjae, huh?” You yell out, “He never wanted me he wanted Yuqi.”

His smile was deranged, “Honestly he was just fucking annoying.”

You shake your head, tears streaming down your face. Your body shaking in fear. “You’re evil.”

“I’m your executioner.” He looks into your eyes. There’s no more of that sweet Mark you knew before. His entire being is unhinged. He hears a sound coming from the front door, becoming distracted for a second.

You take that moment to reach for the lamp on the desk and breaking it on his head, setting yourself free from his hold. He’s stunned for a moment as you run towards the kitchen grabbing a knife from the counter.

“Get away from me!” You scream out, he stands in front of you, his head bleeding from the hit he took. “Put the knife down.”

You shake your head, “I said get away!” He puts his hands up. “Y/n you’re acting crazy, put the knife down.”

“I’m crazy?” You scream, “You’ve killed people.”

He ignores you, stepping closer. “Which is exactly why I know, you don’t have it in you. So just drop the knife.”

You pause for a moment, frozen in fear. He takes that chance to reach for your hand and grab the knife out of it. What he doesn’t realize is that you are quicker than you seem, you dodge his movement stabbing the knife through his back.

He turns slowly, blood dripping from his mouth. “Fuck, you always were smarter than anyone ever took you for.” He drops to the floor, unconscious giving you the time to run out of the house.

You’re running with blood all over your clothes. The knife is still in your hand, piercing through your palms but even the sting isn’t enough to shake off the adrenaline in your body. You can hear voices calling out to you but you can’t stop running.

It isn’t til you feel a pair of hands grabbing onto you that you stop running. “Y/N.” You break out of your thoughts, your brother’s voice stopping you in your tracks.

“Inhyuk,” You let out a shaky breath. “What are you doing here.”

“I came here as soon as I heard, you need to calm down okay? We’re here to help you.”

You look around noticing the police and paramedics parked outside of the house. Some making their way towards you already. You look at your brother finally caving into his hold and sobbing into his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I’m here.”

“Did he mention any other victims?” You shake your head, the officer had been asking you questions for the past fifteen minutes but you could barely answer. You sat on the back of the ambulance, the paramedics checking you to make sure you had no major injuries.

Hyungseo was rushed to the hospital already, they said his injuries could be fatal if not treated quickly. You had a feeling he was going to be okay though.

There was no word on the state of Mark, and you weren’t sure if you even wanted to know. It was hard enough to face the officer right now. “Can you give her a moment, she can always head to the station if she had any more details.” You hear your brother’s voice interject the officer.

“Oh yes, of course.” He steps away from the two of you walking over to where the sheriff stands. You were thankful for Inhyuk’s help, the last thing you needed was to be reminded of the amount of victims Mark had killed all for you.

“Mom just got here, i’m going to go talk to her okay?” You nod, “I’ll be right back.” He says, still very worried about your condition.

“You’re okay. You might experience some soreness and pain but your blood pressure is fine.” The paramedic says while removing the cuff around your arm. “I’ll give you a moment to yourself.”

He walks always leaving you alone. Your breaths become less frantic, you look up from your hands and into the house in front of you. You remember the way you’d fought Mark off, the police wondering how it was that you’d been able to escape with little to no injuries.

You didn’t have it in you to explain everything. Not the way he had told you that you were his motive for killing, or the way you’d had to stab him multiple times before running out successfully.

There’d be a time for when you’d come clean about everything, and you were fine with that. Except for one.

You had felt a rush the moment you stabbed him with the screwdriver. It was different from any adrenaline rush, no this was a rush of excitement. Then the second time, when you saw him drop to the floor, his eyes rolling into his head unconscious, you’d felt it again.

You enjoyed the way his warm blood dripped down your hands, the way he let in a sharp inhale the second you punctured his back. You loved the way it felt to see him half dead on the ground, and that was something you’d be taking to the grave.

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melanchol1cs · 27 days ago

Text

THIS HOTEL ROOM.

jayce talis x f!reader

word count: 2.7k summary: do you usually invite strangers into your room? masterlist | taglist | wips

18+ MDNI. set in modern 1970, alcohol consumption, kissing, reader wears a floor length dress, porn with barely any plot, oral (r!receiving), fingering, teasing, jayce’s big dick idk, use of a condom, protected sex, one night stand. based on ‘hotel’ by motell fish.

a/n: ya’ll wouldn’t give to to me so i had to write it myself. and when i tell you, i had to fight every urge to not make this the kinkiest shit known to mankind. ugh. this got my pussy throbbing so hard you don’t even understand how much i need this man… i’d take him anywhere atp, on the couch, on the bed, in the bathroom, in a car, on the motherfuckking floor, PLEASEEEE

the hotel bar was quiet, save for the low hum of jazz filtering through the speakers and the the hotel bar was quiet, save for the low hum of jazz filtering through the speakers and the occasional clink of glassware. it was late, well past midnight, and most of the other patrons had either retired for the night or drank themselves into oblivion. you sat at the counter, nursing a glass of wine, your gaze lazily tracing the patterns of condensation on the glass.

it was late—too late, really—and you don’t know what drew you here tonight. restlessness, maybe, or just the need to be anywhere but your own room.

that’s when you noticed him.

the man was hard to miss. he sat a few stools down from you. tall, dark, handsome. his suit was clearly expensive and tailored to his form, the tie now loosened and the top buttons undone showing a tantalizing amount of skin. his dark hair was tousled, as if he’d recently run a hand through it. he looked like he didn’t quite belong in a place like this, like his world was one of brighter lights and bigger crowds.

you looked away quickly, pretending to focus on the drink in your hand, but it was no use. he had already caught you looking.

“mind if i join you?” he asked, nodding toward the empty stool beside you. his voice was smooth, rich, and strangely disarming.

“guess i don’t have a reason to say no.” you said, flashing him a polite smile as he sat down, signaling to the bartender for a drink.

the silence between you lasts only a moment before he turns to you, a faint smile playing on his lips. “wine this late at night?” he asked, his voice smooth and warm, tinged with a curiosity that didn’t feel forced. “must’ve been a long day.”

you huff a quiet laugh, lifting your glass slightly. “something like that. and you? whiskey at this hour—celebration or consolation?”

his lips quirk into a smirk as he slides onto the stool beside you. “neither. just… unwinding after work,”

it’s the way he says it—casual, like he’s opening the door to the conversation but not pushing too hard. enough to get you curious, but not desperate for an answer.

“what do you do?” you ask, leaning into the banter without realizing it.

he tilts his head, a playful glint in his hazel eyes. “guess.”

you study him, taking in the expensive cut of his suit, the faint smudge of ink on his thumb, the way he carried himself like someone used to making decisions that mattered.

“finance?” you guess, trying to sound confident.

“close,” he says, his smirk growing. “I’m a scientist.”

“really?” you lean in a little, the intrigue creeping in. “what kind of science?”

“hextech,” he says, almost watching your reaction, gauging it. “i work on energy solutions, tech development… mostly things that could change how piltover and zaun interact.”

you blink, a faint recognition flickering across your face at the mention of hextech. “hextech? that’s… pretty impressive,” you say, swirling your wine absentmindedly.

he notices the shift in your expression but doesn’t call you out on it—yet.

“i wouldn’t say that,” he said humbly, his voice almost teasing, as if he knew the effect his profession had on people. “i’m not saving lives or anything.”

you shake your head, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “still, you must be good at what you do,” you say, tilting your head slightly. “hextech isn’t exactly something anyone can just dabble in. bet it pays well too.”

he laughs, deep and rich, a sound that settles in your chest. he leans in closer, his knee brushing yours under the counter, and you feel the shift in the air, the tension crawling up your spine. “is that why you’ve been giving me looks all night? trying to figure out if i’m worth taking home?” his voice drops just enough to suggest he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

“oh, i think you’re forgetting,” a small smile tugs at your lips. ”you’re the one that came to me.”

he laughed, a low, rich sound that sent a jolt of heat through you. “touché,” he said, raising his glass to toast you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“you still haven’t answered my question though.” he leans even closer, the scent of his cologne enveloping you. “do i meet your…. criteria?”

you place your empty glass on the counter slowly, making sure he watches the motion, his eyes tracing your every move. when you speak again, your voice is quiet, but deliberate. “i suppose you’re… good enough.”

his grin widens, and he reaches out, his finger trailing along the back of your hand, sending a shiver up your arm. “good enough?” he repeats, his voice a low purr. “well, i think i can do better than that,” he says, standing up and offering you his hand.

“how about one more drink,” he suggests, his tone light now, but there’s an edge to it. “but upstairs? my room’s got a great view of the city.”

you hesitate for a moment, the weight of his words lingering, but his gaze is steady, patient, almost expectant.

“do you usually invite strangers into your room?”

“only the ones i find interesting,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

“good,” you reply, stepping closer, a smirk tugging at your lips. “i’d hate to be predictable.”

the moment the door clicks shut, he's on you, his lips finding yours in a kiss that leaves no doubt about his intentions. a cautious hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss.

he kisses you with desperation that didn't leave time for hesitation, but you'll gladly take him like this — rushed and frantic, the fabric of his dress pants suddenly feeling thin and inadequate against his aching cock.

he breaks the kiss momentarily to trail his lips down your jawline and onto your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin.

his gaze devours your form, taking in every inch of you, and you felt like a specimen under a microscope, utterly exposed and deliciously vulnerable.

"christ, you smell amazing," he groans, his breath hot against your ear. "like fucking heaven.”

he barely manages to kick off his dress shoes and peel off his suit vest before he's got you half-dragged, half-carried to the bed, barely breaking stride before you tumble backwards onto the sheets in a flurry of limbs. the rough fabric of his tie tickles your palms as you fumble to untangle it, tugging on the loose knot to free it from around his neck.

his hands find the zipper at the back of your dress, slowly tugging it down to reveal more of your skin. the fabric parts easily, revealing the lacy edges of your bra and the smooth, pale skin of your stomach. the dress pools around your feet, the last remnants of your modesty suddenly stripped away.

he palms your breast through the sheer material, thumbing over the peaked nipples.

"god, look at you," he murmurs, touch feather-light, almost reverent, as if he can't believe his luck.

your hips arch into his touch instinctively, seeking more of that delicious friction. he takes the hint, sinking to his knees as hand drifts lower to rest on your stomach, fingers splayed wide.

his mouth follows the curve of your inner thigh, slow, languid kisses trailing up from your knees to the apex of your legs.

he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your underwear, pausing briefly to look up at you with dark, hungry eyes. "lift your hips," he prompts, his voice muffled against your thighs.

as you comply, arching your back to help him shimmy the flimsy lace down your legs, he tosses your underwear aside like it's on fire. you can feel the anticipation building, and your breath comes in a short gasp as he spreads your legs wider.

he licks a slow, deliberate stripe up the length of your slit, that barely grazes you before retreating. you let out a high, keening moan, pushing his head deeper down, your hands curling into his hair.

“please,” you breathe, your hips rolling against him, craving more contact.

he does it again, a little harder this time. he tastes you deeply, your pink, aching flesh, drinking in every essence you could possibly offer, before finally sinking in to claim you in earnest.

his lips and tongue are a blur of sensation against your cunt, teasing and tormenting until you're writhing beneath him, begging for more. greedy thing, you are. he obliges, of course, his fingers deep, curling inside you to stroke that spongy spot inside you that makes your vision blur.

you're a mess of needy moans and broken gasps, your thighs trembling around his ears, your fingers clawing at the sheets. he takes you right to the edge, then pulls back, leaving you aching and desperate.

your head immediately snaps up, brows furrowed in disbelief, trying to process the sudden withdrawal. “y-you—“ you splutter, half-gasping for breath. you watch him straighten up, with that infuriating, cocky smirk playing on his lips. “you can't just—”

"i think i can do whatever i damn well please,” he smirks as if he's done you a favor. his hands come up to frame your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks as he leans in to steal another quick kiss, swallowing your protests. "wanted to see the look on your face," and as you shoot him an incredulous look, a self-satisfied chuckle leaves his lips.

"fuck you," you manage to bite out, despite the traitorous quiver in your voice. there's no heat behind your words, only a kind of breathless awe.

"i'm working on it.” he coos against your mouth.

he unzips his pants before you will yourself to speak again, his cock is long and thick and flushed an angry red, bobbing against his stomach as he kicks the fabric away. it’s practically jutting out, twitching with every ragged breath he takes. you can see the vein pulsing along its length, and a drop of pre-cum glistens on the tip. he's big, and you're suddenly consumed with the desperate need to wrap your lips around him, to taste his desire, to show him how much you want him inside you.

he reaches for the nightstand drawer, rummaging around until he pulls out a foil packet. he tears it open with his teeth and rolls the latex over the length of him in a fluid motion. then, he's on you again, his hips settling between your spread thighs as he positions the head of his cock at your entrance.

he doesn't pause, not even for a second, to give you time to process the impending intrusion or to beg for mercy.

you feel him stretch you wide, the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix. he fills you so completely, so utterly, that you can only lay there, gasping, your vision blurry, mouth left agape.

“fuck," he groans, head thrown back, hips jerking shallowly as if trying to bury himself deeper, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. your fingers dig into his biceps as you try to adjust to the sudden, intense fullness stretching your cunt.

he starts to move, slow at first, withdrawing nearly all the way before slamming back in, over and over and over again.

he takes you relentlessly, the slap of skin against skin the only soundtrack in the quiet of your hotel room. the bed creaks beneath you with each brutal thrust as he drives all the air from your lungs and leaves you utterly gasping.

every thrust seems to drill one of his own ragged gasps into your ear, the words lost but the emotion, urgency, conveyed perfectly as if he's trying to burn the sound of your suffering into memory. your nails score lines down his back as he fucks into you without mercy, each new impact rocking you to your very core, and every nerve end screams at once to be relieved.

the feeling of your cunt sucking down on him, practically trying to rip his dick off is driving his brain to insanity. but the sight of your eyes fluttering shut, your delicate features scrunched up, and the sweet little moans that escape you... it's enough to make a saint curse the heavens.

he snags your lip with his thumb, tugging you into a messy kiss. saliva streams down your chin as he fucks you with everything he has, and you're utterly defenseless against the onslaught of sensation, your hips bucking up to meet his with abandon.

“fuck, i’m... i’m going to—" but the words die on his lips as he buries himself to the hilt one final time, holding perfectly still, buried balls-deep inside you. thank god he’s wearing a condom, because he would not be able to pull out.

he groans low, long, and throaty as he spills his load into the condom, the sound muffled against your mouth. the heat of him fills you, then slowly starts to ebb as his orgasm recedes.

he stays buried deep for a moment longer before slowly pulling out, allowing your abused walls to clutch at the empty air. you’re left feeling bare, a boneless heap sprawled on the sheets. you feel the sticky residue of his cum cling to your skin as he discards the used condom.

he flops onto his back beside you, one arm draped across your middle as if to keep you close, and you feel a sense of lazy contentment wash over you despite the residual ache between your thighs. you can hear the heavy thud of his heartbeat, feel the warmth of his skin against yours. it's peaceful, in a strange sort of way.

his hand drags languidly through your tangled hair, and he looks at you, eyes half-lidded, a small, pleased smile lingering on his lips. the soft, silken locks feel like satin beneath his touch, a stark contrast to the rough, calloused pads of his fingertips.

“was that… ‘good enough’ for you?” his hand trails through your hair, fingers splaying against your scalp as if to hold you in place.

you swipe at his chest with a careless hand, more of a petulant tap really, but he still grunts in mock pain. “ouch!,” he feigns outrage, clutching at his chest as if wounded.

“asshole,”

he's laughing before you can even get the words out, the rich, deep sound filling the room and seeming to tickle your spine. he shifts to spoon against you, his thigh slipping between your legs as he wraps an arm around you, tugging you back against him

his fingers splay across your belly, tracing idle patterns as he speaks. the room feels impossibly warm, and you find yourself wishing he'd turn off the heating or open a window, but in that moment, all you care about is the solid warmth of him pressed against your back, and the weight of his arms around you.

"we should probably get some sleep," he murmurs after a while, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "i have an early meeting tomorrow." you nod against his chest, not really registering his words.

sleep is the last thing on your mind, but you're not sure if it's because of the adrenaline still coursing through your veins or because you don't want this moment to end.

“you know,” you begin, and he hums, a vibration you feel more than you hear, “i don’t think i ever got your name.”

he stills behind you, the sudden quiet palpable as he absorbs your words. his lips press a fleeting kiss against the pulse point on your neck,

“jayce.”

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