#I’m surprised I didn’t make that mistake-

[tarohugs]

after you find out they cheated (nct dream)

►ot7 x reader

► angst!! some (very minute) fluff, cliff hangers..

►read part 1 here!

►a/n part 2 as requested!! although this was def not what some wanted i think this turn off events is much better. please enjoy and lmk if u do

MARK

After the dispatch rumors, Mark’s name trended on social media for the remainder of the month. Seeing his face constantly had upset you tremendously to the point where you had to mute his name and every nickname given to the boy. 

You two had not talked since he admitted to you over text he had cheated. He made many attempts to come over and make amends but to no avail, you paid no remorse to his actions. Truthfully, Mark was the love of your life and you dearly wanted to give him a chance considering he was trying his best to set forth with your relationship, but something about you couldn’t let him off so easily. 

Throughout the course of your relationship with Mark, he had always said you “were the one” and you shared many intimate moments together. Now, as you watch him through your doorbell camera making his final attempt at reconciling, you decide it is time to finally communicate your true feelings. 

He had approached your front door with flowers and a box of your favorite chocolates along with other of your most beloved items you enjoyed. His eyes swelled with tears as he began to stutter words when you opened the front door. 

“Y-y/n,” Mark faltered in shock that you opened the door before he even had the chance to knock. “I have a lot to explain, just please listen-”

You laughed, surprised he thought he even had a chance, “Mark, you know what you did was wrong and nothing can change that. Look, I didn’t answer to hear you out, I answered to tell you I’m over you and to stop bothering me.” Your eyes watered as you made eye contact with the boy that was once your lover.

“You know it’s just Dispatch,” he asserted, “None of that was the truth, you know this. Please, just listen to me, I can explain everything to you even if you don’t want to hear it. Don’t just throw away years of us for something so stupid.”

You gasped, shocked that he would claim this was stupid, “There’s nothing to explain to me, you fucked up and this is over. None of the shit I’ve seen about you this month was stupid. I’m not dumb, Mark, don’t treat me like this. You don’t deserve a second chance.”

Mark tried to speak again but you immediately shut him down with the palm of your hand signaling him to stop. Maybe you would give him a chance another day but this wasn’t the time. You never accepted the gifts from him as you shut the door in his face. 

As months went on after your final encounter with Mark, he made no other attempts to reunite with you, accepting you were ready to move on to someone better. No texts, no knocking on your door, no phonecalls, no contact at all. Your life with Mark was over for good.

RENJUN

When Renjun had admitted to you he cheated, you didn’t believe his words at first. He had to be joking, I mean who was he to cheat anyways? He was always loyal to you and never failed to ensure you were the number one thing in his life. What could possibly bring him to cheat on you?

“Renjun, what are you talking about?” you questioned, trying to come up with some explanation for his infidelity. 

He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he confessed, “You know Yeji? My new coworker? We were at a holiday party and I was drunk and you know how the rest played out.”

You couldn’t believe his words. Renjun was always the type to inform you of every event in his life. When he had told you about his annual holiday work parties, he always invited you, this year was the first you had heard nothing. As you came to the realization why, you finally connected the dots. 

Even though Renjun excused himself by offering that he was drunk, this wasn’t a drunken mistake. Renjun was intentional with his actions. If he had intended not to invite you in the first place, his objective was clear he was trying to get in Yeji’s pants. 

Not a single bone in your body felt remorse for the boy as you came to comprehend his efforts to cheat on you. “Get out,” you stated strictly, offering no emotion for Renjun to crack.

“Y/n, just give me a chance. I’ll make it up to you,” he began to plead, clutching his fingers together to create a dramatic effect. Nothing could make you forgive him.

“Renjun, you knew what you did. You’re better than this and I deserve better than whatever is going on with you,” you attempted to excuse his infidelity. Renjun had always been truthful with you and although his activities were clear, you had wanted to give him a chance despite your brain telling you not to. 

Renjun simply nodded your head at your statement, beginning to get out of your once shared bed and gather his belongings. He didn’t speak a word as he stuffed his suitcase full other than, “I’ll get the rest of my things later.” He didn’t though, after that night he had left for good.

He never texted you to gather his possessions or make amends. You went on for weeks of no contact and eventually trashed his uncollected belongings due to the high level of emotion they caused you. Not wanting to make the first text, you waited and waited for him to make a move.

Eventually your waiting had done you justice has you finally received a message from your ex-boyfriend.

renjun: y/n

renjun: let’s talk

JENO

After many failed attempts of trying to make Jeno offer some sort of apology for his actions, he eventually started ghosting you as a whole. You couldn’t believe he could once be so loving and switch so easily to being the toxic ex-boyfriend he would shame before. 

The I love you’s turned into Leave me alone’s as you constantly tried to confront him. During the course of your relationship, you two had moved in together and when he cheated on you he made no attempt to move out - simply inviting other girls over without a care in the world. 

Luckily, you two had separate rooms but this didn’t change the fact you could still hear the banging of his bedframe against the wall from one of his many one night stands. One night you had gotten so agitated by his thoughtless actions and confronted him about what was going on.

“Jeno,” you barged into his room, interrupting whatever fuck he had going on. “I’ve had enough of this.”

He pushed the half-naked girl off of him, slowly making his way to throw on a shirt, telling the girl to leave. She scoffed at you limiting her time with Jeno but quickly put on her scattered clothes, leaving your shared apartment. “Y/n, what the fuck is your problem,” he expressed angrily, clearly upset that you would interrupt such an intimate moment.

“Look Jeno, I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, but I’ve had enough of it. Either you stop with this or you leave. You were the one that fucked up. Figure out your life,” you finally stood your ground. Jeno had always been dominant in your relationship, and after your “break-up” this prevailed. 

He constantly made you feel bad about yourself, blaming you for “not being good enough” as the reason he had to cheat on you. Yeah, this hurt like hell. However, you were desperate to make Jeno love you again, even if he had acted so wrongly. 

Jeno rolled his eyes at your scolding, “If you want me out y/n, so be it. Just know I won’t come back.” He shut the door in your face as you listened to him slam drawers and punch the wall in anger.

You ran back to your room and shut the door behind you, sliding down it as tears began to blind your eyes. What had happened to Jeno? 

The next morning you woke up with no trace of Jeno to be found. He offered no explanation for what had changed him so tremendously but you figured you would find out when you received a knock on the door from Jaemin, Jeno’s best friend.

You answered the door reluctantly, scared Jaemin would make a comment on your puffy eyes and dishelved features. “Jaemin, what’s wrong?” you questioned, taking in his appearance. He seemed to be in the same situation as you, noticing his freshly awoken demeanor.

“Y/n, we need to talk. It’s about Jeno,” he sighed, stepping into your apartment.

HAECHAN

When Haechan saw the look on your face after you discovered him cheating, endless apologies left his mouth. He had never seen you so upset and angry with him, he admitted he deserved your backlash. 

Even though he was quick to beg for your forgiveness, you never offered it to him, opting to move on instead. You were petty and getting back together with Haechan would not be the power move. 

Although you had made it clear you were over Haechan, you never made an official attempt at breaking up with him. Instead, you had simply ghosted him as you didn’t want to make any contact with your so-called ex-boyfriend. This, instead, led you to have even more difficulties moving on as you felt remorse hooking up with other men due to some sort of tie still being connected to the boy.

Months went by and all the efforts you made to sleep with random strangers were ruined as you felt a constant cloud of guilt hanging over you. You tried to get over him by getting blackout drunk at random parties, knowing sober you would make no effort to move on. You were unsuccessful most nights but one night you were finally convinced it was your time. 

Unfortunately, the guy that you landed with in bed was only victorious due to the similar features he shared with Haechan. His hair, his voice, his eyes - everything reminded you of him. Yeah, you had technically not gotten over him, but it was a start!

You were gracious enough to recognize this was a lead in the right direction as you had finally slept with another guy since your relationship with Haechan “ended.” Though, as you began to sober up as you awoke from your one night stand, you couldn’t help but notice the man in your bed appeared too close to Haechan. 

As you took a closer look, your suspicions were confirmed. You were back to square one.

JAEMIN

Following the numerous days you had left your shared apartment with Jaemin, he began to grow concerned for your being and where you were staying. You had opted to reside in your best friend's house as she was the only one kind enough to offer you a place to stay.

Jaemin knew you lacked options to inhabit for the time being and was quick to conclude your location. No longer than two days of you staying there, Jaemin had made his way into her apartment with a bouquet of roses, reciting the speech of apologies for you to hear.

“Y/n,” he sighed, moving closer to you when you opened the front door, “I know you want nothing to do with me, but I have a lot of explaining to do. I’m so sorry for getting upset at you, you did nothing wrong. Please forgive me.”

You laughed in his face. Did he really think you would forgive him so easily? “Jaemin, I can’t believe you right now. You owe me a lot more than this,” you asserted.

He knew you would be reluctant to accept his expression of regret but he knew he could convince you no matter what it would take. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” he breathed, handing you the flowers, “please give me another chance. I’ll show you the world.”

It’s crazy to think the way his final sentence could be perceived so differently. Once you had viewed the words as a way of him expressing his love, now it was simply his manipulating attempt to win you over.

Although you were upset with Jaemin for his actions, you couldn’t hate him. You had loved him for months on end and it would be difficult to get over such emotions in such a short time period. You allowed his manipulation to work on you as you offered him a second chance. 

You two continued your relationship for months, rebuilding the connection you once had, this time with more caution. As you began to fall in love again, you couldn’t help but wonder who the girl he had cheated on you with had been. This prompted you to begin searching his phone for clues on who the mistress could possibly be. 

When you arrive upon your best friend's name in his recent text messages, you ponder what the two would be conversing. As you scroll through their texts and see the endless meetups and shared intimate texts, the story finally clicked into place.

CHENLE

After Eric had shown you the texts he shared with Chenle, he was quick to console you over your ex-boyfriend. You had scheduled a meetup with Chenle immediately after and broke up with him, offering no time for an explanation from him. Eric and Yuna had been good friends of yours for years, you knew everything they told you was the truth with no sugarcoating.

As time went on, you and Eric’s relationship began to prosper into something more, sharing many endless night together but never making it further than a few stolen kisses. A couple weeks after your break up with Chenle, Eric had attempted to ask you on a date but you were quick to deny him stating that it was too early for him to make a move. 

“Y/n, I don’t understand. Were those drunken nights nothing to you?” Eric questioned, angered you could deny him so easily. 

You shook your head, upset that he would be so ignorant to ignore your emotions. “You know I just got out of a relationship, Eric, those nights meant something I’m just not ready for commitment yet.” Truthfully you never felt much for him when you were dating Chenle, but due to his chivalrous acts of exposing your cheating boyfriend, you had gained some attachment to the boy. 

Eric accepted your explanation but still attempted to win you over multiple nights in a row. Eventually, you fell into his trap and accepted going on a date with him. As you delved into a new relationship with Eric, you couldn’t help but feel as though something was off. 

Yuna wasn’t very supportive of your relationship after a couple weeks of being with him. She noticed a change in your attitude and offered no reasoning of why she further began to distance yourself from you two. The three of you were inseparable for years so you figured she was just beginning to adjust to being a third wheel.

Though something about Yuna’s lack of support for your relationship with Eric struck a nerve inside you, you couldn’t help but feel there was an underlying message behind her actions. When you received a message from the girl, you were in for a ride.

yuna!!!: don’t hate me but eric lied about chenle

JISUNG

Accidentally live streaming is one thing, having a girl speaking in the background is another. Netizens were quick to spread rumours about who the mysterious voice was in Jisung’s accidental live stream. You were also curious as to know what Jisung was truly doing in that moment of vulnerability, but when you sent him various concerned and aggravated messages, you realized none of your texts were delivered to his phone. Jisung had blocked you.

Being an idol means strict punishment from companies - and under the circumstances Jisung had fucked up, he was in for trouble. Of course his managers were aware Jisung was dating you, so they were quick to assume the mystery girl was you. Due to this, they were punished Jisung by banning all contact he had with you. This led you to having no reasoning for what was going on that day. 

You attempted to contact his members but they made no effort to offer you any explanation either, most likely scared they, too, would get in trouble. If you weren’t terrified of the company, you would reach out to his managers yourself, but you had heard of the things they did to idols and you didn’t want to risk any chance of communication you had with Jisung.

After months of no contact with the boy, you finally began to accept he wouldn’t be returning back to your life any time soon; however, when you received a letter in the mail from Park Jisung, a sliver of hope ran through your veins that this chapter of worrying would finally come to an end. 

As you opened and read the handwritten letter he had graciously sent, your eyes began to shed tears. In his heartfelt letter, he sent numerous apologies and explained the girl in the video had been one of his cousins, he was simply hanging out with family and didn’t tell you because he wanted to surprise you with a gift she had intended on giving you.

Although you were reluctant to believe such a fallacy, you knew Jisung better than anyone else, he had to be telling the truth. The only problem was, that there was no way to contact Jisung other than via the mail. Even though you had found out the truth, what was the cost?

[whatiswrongwithpeople]

Unspoken Understandings

part 2 to “Shattered Silence” (Jayce Talis x reader)

Part 1

Summary: After that fateful night in the lab both ,Jayce and you, have been unsure how to address the sudden shift in your dynamic. However, sometimes all it takes is a certain yordle to force Jayce to take a break from his work and leave the lab.

Warnings: none, no spoilers for s2, no canon plot, a good amount of domestic fluff

Notes: I am really REALLY surprised about how much love “Shattered Silence” has received and hope that you enjoy this follow up just as much. <3 Once again , this has been written in my notes app, I hope I didn’t miss any mistakes.

Tags🏷️ @a-queen-blr @anxious-doodler @brabuscoffwe

The days after the break-in were a blur of frantic packing and moving. You had to find a new place fast—nothing too fancy, just something safe, something that could hold your things and the remaining bits of your research. But the weight of it all pressed down on you, your muscles aching from days spent running between your old and new apartment. You didn’t have the luxury of time to process what had happened the night you stormed into the lab, or even think much about him.

But the nights…

The nights were when you couldn’t stop thinking about how, despite everything, Jayce had held you. How, for a brief moment, you had leaned into him without fear of rejection. You’d allowed yourself to feel vulnerable, and he hadn’t pushed you away.

Now, you found yourself trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest every time you thought about him, but the silence between you both felt suffocating.

Meanwhile, Jayce had buried himself in his work. The breakthrough he’d been chasing for months was nearly within reach, and that goal, that obsession, kept him up at night. But even as his mind raced with equations and possibilities, something nagged at him—a thought that he couldn’t shake, no matter how hard he tried.

It had started that night when you had collapsed into his arms, your trembling form clinging onto him like a lifeline. The way your body had felt in his embrace, how you had allowed him to hold and comfort you… something about it just felt right. And the days since? It was almost like he couldn't think straight without you. Your presence had become something he couldn’t quite get out of his head. Every time he closed his eyes, your face would appear—raw, vulnerable, but somehow more real than anything else in his life.

But what exactly was that thing between you? Was it something real, or just the aftershock of an unexpected and stressful situation? Jayce couldn’t even bring himself to ask.

---

It was late when Heimerdinger found him pacing in the lab, his mind so tangled in equations that the pieces didn’t seem to fit anymore.

“You’re working too hard, Jayce.” Heimerdinger’s voice was calm, but there was a quiet insistence behind it. He hadn’t seen the young inventor so distracted in what felt like ages.

Jayce, who had been scribbling furiously on a piece of paper, didn’t even look up. “I’m close to figuring this out. I just need a few more adjustments,” he said, but his voice lacked the usual tone of conviction.

Heimerdinger tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze studying the younger man. It didn’t take long for him to figure out the nature of the inventor’s problems. “You were always quick to tell me how distracting it was when you were around her. How you could hardly think clearly when she was near.” Heimerdinger spoke , a nonchalant tone covering up the intention behind his statement.

Jayce froze, his pen hovering mid-air. He couldn’t remember ever having said that, but since the incident the times of feeling annoyed by you felt so far away. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was true. That really had been how he’d felt around you, hadn’t it? You had always found a way of breaking through his concentration, making him second-guess his thoughts and decisions.

But now? He didn’t feel distracted anymore. The thought of you didn’t pull him away from his work—it was more like you were... quieting the noise in his mind. Every time he thought about you, his thoughts slowed, calmed. The gears in his brain didn’t spin at a hundred miles per hour anymore. They… rested.

Sighing, Jayce met Heimerdinger’s knowing gaze. "It’s not the same,” he said, his voice quieter now, unsure. “It’s... different.”

Heimerdinger gave him a pointed look, crossing his arms behind his back as he looked up at the young man. “You’ve been working non-stop for days, Jayce. Sometimes the best breakthroughs come when we step away from the work for a little while. You’re going to burn yourself out if you keep this up."

Jayce opened his mouth to argue, but Heimerdinger was already walking toward the door. “I’m forcing you out of here. Take a break. Go see her,” he said, an almost cheerful tone in his voice. And with that, he was gone.

Jayce sat in stunned silence for a moment, the yordle’s words hanging in the air. Go see her? If he was honest to himself, he hadn’t even thought about it. A part of his mind harbouring a feeling of anxiousness regarding the inevitable confrontation. But something in Heimerdinger’s voice made him hesitate. It was as if the older man had seen through all the layers of self-doubt Jayce had buried himself under.

With the scrape of his chair he stood up. He needed to get out of the lab. He needed to breathe. He needed to see you.

---

It wasn’t hard to find your new place. Jayce had always been able to track down anything and anyone, with ease—Piltover wasn’t exactly a large city after all.

But as he stood outside your new apartment, his stomach churned. The weight of everything he had avoided saying hung over him like a dark storm cloud. He had no idea how this would play out—what could he even say? That he hadn’t been able to think straight since the night you’d come to him? That he’d wanted to be there for you, but had no clue how to navigate what had happened between you both?

But before he could completely lose his nerve, the door to the apartment opened, and you appeared.

You looked… tired. Your hair was pulled back in a messy up-do, and your shirt was slightly wrinkled, but there was something comforting about the chaos surrounding you. Not wanting to stare , his golden eyes quickly drifting to the space behind you. It was clearly your place now, your sanctuary, but it was still a work in progress.

You saw him before he could even open his mouth to say anything, and a flicker of surprise crossed your face. “Jayce? What are you—”

“I—uh, I came to check on you,” he said, running a hand through his hair, suddenly awkward. His nervous gaze switching back and forth between you and the wood on your door. “See how you’re doing… with the new place and everything.”

You raised an eyebrow but stepped aside, allowing him to enter. “Well,” you said with a tired half-smile, “it’s been a lot of work. Still don’t know where half my things are.”

Jayce chuckled as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His mind reeling at how your presence suddenly made him feel less anxious, like he didn’t have to carry his burdens anymore . Not here, not now.

You motioned toward a pile of boxes in the corner of the living room, your smile sheepish, almost apologetic. “You wouldn’t happen to be good at putting together furniture, would you?”

Without a second thought, Jayce was moving toward the pile, rolling up his sleeves with a quiet determination. “I can manage,” he said with a grin, glancing back at you. “But only if you promise not to laugh at my attempts.”

You smirked, feeling a flicker of warmth in your chest. “No promises,” you teased, but there was a lightness in your voice now where tiredness had been before.

For the next few hours, the two of you worked side by side, not really talking, but filling the space between you with easy silence. There was something almost intimate in the simplicity of it—a shared task, each moment feeling like it stitched something new into the fabric of your newfound connection. The screech of a screwdriver, the soft clink of metal against wood, and the occasional, shared chuckle when one of you fumbled—it was like you were building something together, but not just the furniture. It was this. Whatever it was that had started to grow between you.

You worked in rhythm, so comfortable with him that it didn’t even feel strange. You caught yourself looking up at him a few times, watching the way he moved, how the muscles in his arms flexed when assembling the pieces and silently admiring the way the light caught the lines of his face. Jayce wasn’t just the scientist, the bold, sometimes aloof figure you'd known—here, in this space, he felt… real. Vulnerable, even. The arrogant mask you had become so accustomed to had slipped away, leaving only the person beneath. And for the first time, you saw him as someone who was just as human as you.

When the last piece of furniture was assembled, both of you collapsed onto the couch. The apartment was still a mess, but somehow, it felt more like home now. After hours of unpacking, moving boxes, and trying to make sense of the chaos, you and Jayce had both reached a kind of quiet, shared exhaustion. There was something about the way the late afternoon light filtered through the windows—golden and warm—that made everything feel a little less overwhelming.

Jayce was beside you on the couch, leaning back against the cushions with his sleeves still rolled up, hair unkempt and his face still a little flushed from the work. Normally, by now you’d be bickering with each other, exchanging sarcastic remarks til one of you would have enough and storm out of the room. But ever since your distraught form had stormed into his lab, that usual dynamic was missing. The crackling back-and-forth had faded into something quieter, something more... honest.

“So, this is it, huh?” you said, glancing around the room. It was a mix of completed and incomplete, a snapshot of a new beginning. “Still a long way to go, but... it’s getting there.”

Jayce surveyed the room, his gaze lingering on the boxes and the half-finished furniture scattered around. “It’s... definitely not what I expected,” he said, his lips twitching into a smile. “You still got a ton of stuff for someone who has been robbed.” You laughed lightly, but it wasn’t a tense laugh like it would have been just a few days ago. It was more... genuine.

The silence stretched a little longer, and you found yourself thinking about how easily you used to hide behind the jabs and insults. You had both spent so much time pretending—pretending that you couldn’t stand each other, pretending like there was nothing more beneath the surface. But nevertheless, despite years of constant back and forth, Jayce had been the one your heart had led you to when your mind was in a state of absolute panic.

“You know, I’ve spent a lot of time pretending,” you said softly, looking at him from the corner of your eye. “Pretending like we couldn’t get along, pretending like I didn’t... care.”

Jayce’s eyes flicked over to you, something unreadable in his gaze. For a moment, he didn’t respond, allowing the truth to settle between you.

“I think I was pretending, too,” he said finally, his voice low and honest. “Pretending I didn’t want... this.” He gestured loosely between you two, his hand hovering in the air, as if the words were more difficult to articulate than the feelings behind them.

There it was. That truth you had both danced around for so long. And now, it didn’t feel awkward. It felt like a breath you both had been holding ever since Jayce had comforted you that fateful night, waiting for the right moment to exhale.

You turned toward him, your body instinctively moving closer. You didn’t have to think about it. The space between you was just too small now, too important to leave empty. As if by reflex, your hand reached out, softly brushing his arm, letting your fingers rest gently against his. The touch was tentative at first but you felt him respond instantly—his hand turning slightly, his fingers seeking yours, meeting you halfway.

It was subtle, a small connection that sent a rush of warmth through you. Neither of you said anything. The words didn’t feel necessary anymore. Jayce shifted a little, his knee brushing against yours, his hand gently drawing you closer. He wasn’t in a rush. You weren’t either. But as the space between you closed even more, something shifted, and you both knew the moment was right.

Jayce’s thumb traced along the back of your hand, his touch light but deliberate. Slowly, he turned toward you, his body leaning in, and you could feel his breath on your lips before his mouth even touched yours. It wasn’t a desperate move, but one full of quiet intent, like this was something that had been building between you for far too long.

His lips met yours gently at first—just a soft brush, testing, as though waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. Neither of you did. The kiss deepened, slowly, naturally. His hand moved to your jaw, tilting your head slightly as his other hand slid around your waist, his electric touch finding its way underneath your shirt, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body against yours felt so right, so easy, just like it had back in the lab when he had shielded you from your troubles, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You melted into him. There was no rush, no hesitation now. Just the soft pressure of his lips on yours, the tender way his hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if memorizing the feel of of your skin underneath his fingertips.

When you pulled back, there was no immediate rush to fill the space with words. The air between you felt charged, but in a quiet, intimate way. You both breathed deeply, your lips tingling from the kiss, your pulse still racing a marathon in your chest.

Jayce’s hand lingered on your waist, his thumb absently tracing circles on your skin. “Guess we don’t have to pretend to not like each other anymore,” he murmured, his voice hushed, almost unsure, like the weight of everything was finally settling in. You shook your head slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips as your hand found his again. “No. I guess not.”

Jayce leaned back into the couch, his body angled closer to yours now. His eyes twinkled with that familiar teasing glint, but there was something new in the way he looked at you. Something lighter. “So, dinner? I think I’ve earned it.”

You chuckled, your fingers still intertwined with his as you stood. “You’ve already helped me move half my furniture, Jayce. You’re definitely sticking around.”

He flashed you a relaxed grin, leaning back against the couch with a satisfied sigh. “Guess I don’t have a choice.”

Letting go of his hand, you turned toward the kitchen, starting to gather ingredients, and Jayce followed you, leaning in just enough to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Need any help?”

You glanced at him with a smile. “Unless you’ve got a Hextech gadget to chop vegetables, I’ve got it under control.”

Jayce chuckled and stepped back, settling in at the table as you started to prepare a meal. There was something comforting in his quiet presence, in the easy rhythm of the evening. You moved around each other effortlessly, the space between you filled with warmth rather than words.

Soon enough, you set the table and sat down together, the simple meal feeling more like a shared moment than just food. Jayce took a bite, then raised an eyebrow in approval. “I’m impressed. Didn’t expect you to be this good at it.”

You laughed, your fingers brushing his as you reached for your drink. “I’m full of surprises.” He smiled at that, his eyes lingering on your face , as if trying to capture the moment.

After dinner, you started to clear the table and do the dishes when Jayce moved to help. You smiled and gently took the dish towel from his hands. “I’ve got this,” you said softly. He gave you a mock pout in return. “I was just getting into it.” Looking up at him, you smiled fondly at his behaviour. “You’ve done enough for today.”

Jayce stepped closer, golden eyes soft as his hand reached out for the towel again. “I don’t mind,” he murmured, his warmth filling the tiny space of your kitchen and wrapping around you like a safety blanket.

“Thanks,” you whispered, cheeks burning with a soft blush as you suddenly felt the quiet comfort of his presence in a way that made everything else feel far away.

Jayce leaned in to brush a kiss against your forehead, light but sincere. “Anytime.”

And just like that, everything felt perfectly in place.

[kawoala]

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES . . . !? suna rintarou.

╰ ⨳ word count ; .4k ( 498 )

╰ ⨳ content warning ; miscommunication 、 smau 、 profanity 、 kind of short 、 just like an introduction type thing.

previous ; masterlist ; next.

11:12 AM, new apartment building.

okay, so maybe you had overestimated yourself.

when you told rin you didn’t need help carrying your stuff up to the new apartment, you had been under the impression that kitchen utensils wouldn’t weigh that much when they were all put in the same box. but now, as you’re standing outside the building, hands on your hips, staring down at the pile of spilled kitchen utensils, you fear you might have overestimated yourself.

you gnaw on your bottom lip anxiously, glancing around quickly to make sure nobody is around to see your embarrassing mishap. you’re actually quite surprised to see absolutely nobody - much different compared to how busy your dorm building was.

you squat down, gathering as many utensils in your hands before dumping them into the backseat of your car. how are you going to get them up there? no idea. surely rin has silverware, right?

“uh, d’ya need help?”

you look up to the owner of voice and briefly think that the gods have rewarded you for your good deeds by sending an angel down to earth. his hair is a little too long for your usual type, but god damn does he make it work. everything about him is sharp; jawline, eyes, nose.

“what?” you ask dumbly, brows furrowing faintly. your brain catches up, finally, and you stand up with an awkward laugh. “oh, um, no. i mean- i just spilled my things. thank you, though, that’s very kind of you.” you give him a smile and stick out your hand for him to shake. “i’m y/n. i’m your new… neighbor? building-mate?” you shake your head. “i’m moving into this building, is what i’m trying to say.”

he hesitates in taking your hand. at first, you think it’s because you stumbled over your words too much and now he thinks you're weird, but then he says, “yeah, i know.”

your brain seems to stutter at his words. the smile is still on your face, but you’re sure the look in your eyes reads confused. “i’m sorry?” you ask, leaning forward a bit - just in case you didn’t quite hear him correctly.

“you’re y/n,” he repeats slowly. “i’m rin.” there’s a moment of silence - a moment too long, because then he continues like you don’t understand. “rintarou? runa’s cousin? your new roommate?”

oh. suddenly, everything you thought was weird makes sense. runa using “he” instead of “she” - though that might have been your fault; you thought she just made a mistake. the dryness of the texts you were receiving for the past few weeks.

rin - rintarou - is a guy.

“oh.”

“what, did runa not show you a picture of me or something?” he laughs, a sort of snorting sound, but the silence you return is the only answer he needs. “oh, she didn’t? shit, sorry. she has a habit of leaving out important details.”

you scoff, though it sounds more like a laugh. “yeah, tell me about it.”

╰ ⨳ taglist ; @miiyas , @heartmaddie , @cherrysurf , @pookalicious-hq , @grassbutneo , @akaashislovee , @cvddlebug .

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 52

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 49, part 50, part 51

Wayne had a bed. The “For Sale” sign in the front lawn of the Harrington’s house has a giant red “Sold” sticker. Boxes fill the trunks of cars, and all the lights go dim. Every speck of life from that house, what little there was, is gone.

They were ready to move on. Move forward. Together.

There was no going back once his truck left this driveway. This would be the last time that he would ever live in a house larger than his own imagination. Larger than his dreams could afford. Living here was never permanent, but it was safe. A space that he came home to and felt at peace. Knowing that his nephew was there, alive, that there were people that cared about them. More than he thought they should, but they did anyway.

It was unbelievable, really. Knowing how many people rally together to help people they barely know. How Wayne deserved that, how he was able to get it at all, he will never know. He’s still wondering when they will all up and leave daily. He’s been fighting on his own for most of his life, he doesn’t know what to do with the small army that’s rallied behind him. Behind Eddie. Any of it.

When the key turns in the lock of his new home, it feels like the first time. Like it knows that this time he walks through the door, it’s permanent. Tonight, will be the first night of his new life. Almost a fresh start. He can hold it in his hands, but it doesn’t feel real.

Steve and Eddie walk in a bit later. Steve with two duffle bags slung over his shoulders. Ever since Wayne’s known about them, they’ve hid their relationship less. Still a bit when the kids are around, but once you see it, you can’t unsee it. He still has his worries, but they seem to be working together. Figuring it out as they go. Trying, failing, and trying again.

He’s never seen them so happy. Not this kind of happy at least. As they walk down the hall to Eddie’s room, laughing about something that Wayne doesn’t even know, it makes him smile. It brings a light to this house that only makes it shine.

Wayne’s room isn’t anything special, plain walls and carpet flooring. But it doesn’t matter. He has a door. He hasn’t had one of those since Eddie moved in. He has a closet. A small closet, but a closet none-the-less. He has a space of his own, one he has no clue what to do with, but can’t wait to find out.

The bed gets made; his clothes get unpacked. It still looks so bare, but it’s growing. Everything’s growing.

For the past few months, it was one thing after another. Running so fast and hoping that everything was done right in between. There were so many mistakes, so many changes. So many things Wayne wants to take back but never can. His life changed, for worse, and for better. Funny how change can do that.

“Wayne, what pizza toppings do you want?” Eddie yells from the kitchen. He had to make it through several walls now, they weren’t in such close quarters anymore.

“The regular,” he yells back. Hoping it was loud enough to hear.

The first night is good. The three of them at the kitchen table, laughing. Ready for something new. When Wayne went to sleep that night, it was the most peace he’d had in a while. Every little worry he had was put on hold. Let him finally rest, so he can continue with everything else tomorrow.

The doorbell rings in the mid-morning. Dustin waiting behind it with a casserole dish.

“My mom sends her congratulations on the house,” he says, pushing the casserole in his hands. “I’d say this is the last of it, but that would be a lie.”

Wayne laughs, nodding for Dustin to come in. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t throw a welcome party or anything. Thought you would be the group to do that.”

“Eddie talked us out of it, said it wouldn’t be what you wanted.”

“Well, he’s right. Can I get you anything?”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m heading over to Mike’s. We’re doing this summer campaign that he made with Will and it’s taking forever.” He’s silent for a moment, before continuing, “I still can’t believe you guys actually moved.”

“Crazy how life moves sometimes, right? I’d never thought I be able to have a place like this.”

There’s a crackle coming from Dustin’s backpack, a muffled voice coming through.

“I gotta go, hope you like the casserole, but don’t let my mom know that unless you expect a dozen more.”

Wayne follows Dustin out, grabbing the morning paper while he watches him bike away. It’s crazy how he’s seen that boy become the shell of a person after that week, and slowly come back to the person he is. Not quite fully there yet, but close.

It’s even crazier how the boys eventually emerge from Eddie’s bedroom and get food. How Wayne can just faintly hear the clink of mugs as they get coffee. The crash of dishes as they make something to eat. The noise used to echo through their little space before, now is muffled by the wall that separates them.

“Paper’s here,” Wayne says when he enters the kitchen, tossing it on the table.

“Thank you.” Steve puts down his coffee to go and grab the paper, flipping to the ads about vacancies.

“Anything new?” Eddie asks, eating some cereal at the table.

Steve shakes his head. “Not yet, I’ll check the other ones when I go to work though.”

“Game’s on tonight, want me to tape it for you?” Wayne asks.

“That would be great, thank you.”

Eddie groans. “The fact that I live with two sports fans is something I never thought would happen.”

Wayne pushes off the doorway. “Well, you’ve been living with one for years, so I think you can learn to deal with it.”

He leaves them to their breakfast, looking around to find something to do. There’re a few things he found at the thrift store he’s still trying to find the right spot to hang. A new shelf, picture frames waiting to be filled, a painting he liked. All things to help him make this the place he always dreamed, even if it was already there.

At night, when the door closes behind him and he lays in his bed, he can still hear the movement in the house. The patter of feet as they walk down the hall and the creaks of floorboards. The thump of Eddie’s can or his crutches. The water flowing through the taps, and the music coming from the room across the hall.

All of it, everything, was more than he ever dreamed. The people that stuck by him, stood up for his family, are now his friends. A community that welcomed him with open arms. His nephew is getting better. Learning how to manage his new life, in all the aspects of it. A person who not only opened his doors for them, but wanted to stay even when there wasn’t enough to give back.

What started in uncomfortable hospital chairs landed him in a plush bed, in a house that is his own. Pain transformed into hope he couldn’t even conceive. Life moved, and he moved with it. Funny how it landed him here, happier than he’s been in a long time.

A laugh forms in his chest, and he frees it.

“What’s so funny,” Eddie asks, walking over to the couch.

“Nothing,” Wayne shakes his head. “Nothing at all.”

Note: Wayne's pov is now complete. One more chapter of Dustin's pov before we start the epilogue.

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[myhyperfixatedmess]

Bound II

Tom Riddle x Reader.

In which your betrothal is getting harder to deal with.

I II

Word count: 1.4k

Content Warning: None

–––

"You and Riddle!?" screeched Walburga, her hands flying to grip your own. Seraphina looked slightly aghast but kept her usual air of composed indifference.

You lowered your gaze to your lap, fiddling with your fingers.

"Is it really that surprising?" you muttered, feeling your face heat up in humiliation.

"Surprising? No," Walburga said with a scoff. "Scandalous? Absolutely." Her lips twisted into a sly grin as if relishing the drama of it all.

"Exactly," Seraphina chimed in, her tone quieter but no less sharp. "It does seem a curious choice for your parents."

"Curious is an understatement," Walburga cut in, leaning closer. "Tom Riddle? He’s not even properly Gaunt. What a joke!" She laughed, but it was edged with something darker, more calculating than pure mockery.

You sighed, bracing yourself for her tirade.

"Let’s be honest," she went on, waving a hand dismissively. "The Gaunts were barely respectable before, and now? A fading pureblood line, clinging to scraps of glory. Sure, they’ve got Slytherin blood, but Tom? That halfblood is..." She cut herself off, her voice was laced with disgust, but you caught the flicker of envy behind her words.

"Walburga," Seraphina said, a subtle warning in her tone. "He’s not without talent."

"Talent, maybe," Walburga conceded with a shrug. "But what use is talent without a proper name or fortune? Honestly, I wouldn’t waste my time if I were you." Her gaze slid to you, critical and vaguely amused. "Though, I suppose you don’t have much of a choice, do you?"

You bit the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to stay composed. "I’d appreciate it if you didn’t remind me."

"Don’t take it personally," Walburga said breezily. "If anything, I’m jealous. It’ll be entertaining to watch him rise—and maybe fall." She smirked, clearly enjoying the thought.

"Entertaining?" you echoed, incredulous.

"Oh, come now," Walburga said with a sly smile. "Riddle’s not just some brooding nobody. He’s dangerous. Ambitious. Cunning. If I didn’t know better, I’d say your parents think they’re making a power play."

Seraphina nodded slightly, her calm demeanor unshaken. "Perhaps they see something in him that others don’t."

"Or," Walburga interjected, leaning back with a theatrical sigh, "they’ve made a mistake. Either way, darling, I’ll be watching closely. This should be fun."

You stood abruptly, the weight of their words pressing down on you. "If you’ll excuse me," you said stiffly, turning on your heel before they could say more.

Their voices faded as you walked away, Walburga’s laughter lingering in your ears. You just needed to get away—from Walburga, from this marriage, from everything.

The Hogwarts Express was a hive of chatter and excitement as students bustled aboard, eager to return to their familiar routines. You navigated through the train, searching for an empty compartment or at least one with less commotion. Walburga’s words still echoed in your mind, making your already tense shoulders even stiffer. Her dramatics were typical, but for once, they felt too close to the truth.

Finally, you found a quieter compartment at the end of the train. As you slid the door closed and settled into the corner, you allowed yourself a moment to breathe. The prospect of seeing Tom again loomed large, but you hoped the train ride would grant you some respite. The door creaked open moments later, shattering your fragile bubble of peace. A tall figure stepped inside with an air of practiced confidence.

“Mind if I join you?” You looked up, your stomach sinking. Of course, it had to be him.

“Tom,” you said, voice strained but polite. “There are plenty of other compartments.”

“And yet, none quite as intriguing as this one,” he replied smoothly, sliding the door shut behind him.

He took a seat across from you, stretching his legs out just far enough to invade your space. His dark eyes lingered on you with that same unnerving intensity you’d felt back home.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” you muttered, folding your arms defensively.

“Neither did I,” he admitted, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “But then again, we have much to discuss, don’t we?”

You frowned, unsure where this was going. “Discuss? Like what?”

“Our... arrangement.” The way he said the word sent a shiver down your spine.

“I didn’t think there was much to discuss,” you replied, keeping your tone even. “The terms are set, aren’t they? Or do you have some objection?”

Tom leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Not an objection, no. But I find myself curious about you. Surely you feel the same about me.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his candor. “Curious? About what, exactly?”

“Everything,” he said, his voice soft but commanding. “Your thoughts, your ambitions, your fears... your opinions on the arrangement, for instance.”

You hesitated, unsure if this was a trap. “It doesn’t matter what I think, does it? The decision has already been made.”

Tom’s smirk grew. “Perhaps. But you underestimate the power of influence.”

His words hung heavy in the air, their meaning layered and elusive.

“Is this how you plan to win me over?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “By being cryptic and unsettling?”

Tom chuckled, a low, smooth sound that sent another shiver down your spine. “Win you over? You assume I need to.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You think I’ll just accept this without question?”

“I think,” he said, his voice dropping slightly, “that we both know how to make the best of a situation. And that, despite your protests, there’s a part of you that finds all this... intriguing.”

His words struck a nerve, not because they were entirely false but because they were too close to the truth.

“What do you want from me, Tom?” you asked, your tone sharper than you intended.

“For now?” He leaned back, folding his arms and watching you like a hawk.

“Honesty.”

You opened your mouth to respond but were interrupted by the compartment door sliding open again. The train compartment door slid open, and you immediately wished you could disappear. Walburga Black, in all her imperious glory, stepped inside, her sharp eyes flitting from you to Tom. Seraphina followed closely behind, her expression neutral but her gaze assessing.

“Well, well,” Walburga drawled, a sly grin curling her lips. “What have we here? I didn’t expect to find you in such... interesting company.”

Tom, seated across from you, leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable but his dark eyes flickering with faint amusement. He didn’t rise to greet her, which only seemed to amuse Walburga more.

“Walburga,” you greeted stiffly, your hands tightening in your lap.

“Riddle,” she said, her tone deliberately clipped as she addressed him. “You’ve managed to snag quite the prize, haven’t you?” She gave a pointed glance at you before settling into a seat beside Seraphina.

Tom offered her a polite smile, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. “I suppose I have.”

Walburga let out a low laugh, her fingers idly playing with the hem of her sleeve. “I must admit, it’s quite the surprise. I’d have thought the Gaunts would aim higher, but then again, they’re not exactly in a position to be choosy these days, are they?”

Your jaw tightened, but before you could respond, Tom’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “I wasn’t aware you were so invested in my family’s affairs, Miss Black.”

Her grin widened, undeterred. “Oh, not at all. I just find it fascinating, that’s all. A match like this... it does raise questions.” She turned to you, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Don’t you think so, [Y/N]?”

You hesitated, your gaze darting to Tom, who watched you with an unnerving intensity. “I think it’s none of your concern,” you said, forcing your voice to stay steady.

Walburga tilted her head, clearly enjoying herself. “Touchy, aren’t we? Relax, darling. I’m merely curious. After all, this isn’t just any pairing. It’s practically a spectacle.”

“Enough, Walburga,” Seraphina murmured, her tone mild but firm.

Walburga huffed but relented, though not before throwing one last smirk in Tom’s direction. “Well, I suppose we’ll see how this all plays out, won’t we? Best of luck to you both.” Her voice dripped with faux sincerity as she rose, brushing past you and out of the compartment with Seraphina in tow.

The door slid shut, leaving you and Tom in a charged silence.

“She’s charming,” Tom said dryly, his lips curling into a faint smirk.

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “I’m sorry. She’s always like that.”

“No need to apologize,” he replied smoothly. “People like her are easy to handle. They talk too much and think too little.”

You couldn’t help but glance at him, surprised by his calm demeanor. “You didn’t seem bothered at all.”

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

[ragingadhd]

As I’ve been rereading The Burning Bridge and The Icebound Land, I’m reminded of my take on Erak’s character. I was going to explain why I don’t like him, but as I typed this out, my opinion changed. Anyway, here’s my take.

I understand that he apprehended Will and Evenlyn in a time of war. Will and Evenlyn were ruining Morgarath’s plans and putting Erak’s crew in danger. It makes sense Erak captured them.

Though morally upsetting, I understand why he wanted to sell them as slaves. He didn’t know Morgarath had already paid them, and thus believed two slaves would be his only bounty from this excursion.

What’s really upsetting to me is how he knew they were going to suffer, felt sad for them, and still gave them as slaves. He didn’t even accept any payment. He knew what he was doing was wrong, and he still did it.

And then? He’s surprised when Will develops a warmweed addiction?? You signed him up for that!! Why is this a shock to you!!

All that being said, I do applaud him from learning from his mistakes. There definitely are a lot of people who would see Will and Evenlyn suffering, then dig in their heels and say they can’t control it (or even that they deserve it). But not him. He helped them escape, risking punishment in doing so. I also imagine that was a transformative experience for him, one that shaped him into a better leader. That’s beyond good, and I applaud him for that.

I just wish the transition was messier. I wish Will and Evenlyn weren’t so eager to forgive him. I wish he showed a little more remorse. I wish the experience would have made him change the policies on slavery in Skandia. I want it to be messy. I want it to be real.

[spookyboywhump]

My dumbass really thought this meant that they put him INSIDE the Tank Kshdhdv https://www.tumblr.com/spookyboywhump/722784484856135680/plops-wren-in-the-middle-of-an-aquarium-with

AKDJSKDJKAKDJSK don’t worry anon I can totally see how that mistake could be made

[thequestionisalwaysmangoes]

Just saw Return of the King for the first time, and goddamn did i make a fantastic decision to wait to watch it in a theater 10/10. Anyway, I got unreasonably attatched to Merry and couldn’t stop thinking about this little scene on the drive home. Picture a meeting of hobbit leaders preparing for another Fell Winter situation or something. Enjoy<3

“And who are you to order us around?” Asked a hobbit in the crowd.

Merry stared at him for a moment.

“I’m Meriadoc Brandybuck,” he began, voice harder than most had ever heard from the usually fun-loving, mischievous hobbit, “And in a few years I am in line to be the Master of Buckland. But more than that…“

Then he drew his sword.

Immediately the hobbits nearest to him took several large steps backward, chittering nervously. They had all seen it on him, over the years, but after a while had thought nothing of it. That certainly wasn’t the case anymore.

“I was one of the Fellowship of the Ring, traveling South with Frodo Baggins on the quest to destroy the One Ring of Sauron. On that journey, I was gifted this blade by the Elven Lady Galadriel of Lorien, and have kept it by my side ever since.

“I rode into the Battle of Minas Tirith with the Shield-Lady Eowyn of Rohan and was one of the first to follow King Aragorn of Arnor into the Battle at the Black gate. With this blade I have slain more orcs than there are Tooks.”

Merry sheathed the blade.

“Now, are we going to get on with this or sit around flapping our gums until the Wargs come calling?”

[planet4546b]

starting to think some of you guys have been straight up lying about certain destiny characters 🤔

[mooniekive]

I was called a Tae anti today IN PERSON by an adult woman and she was like “I’m joking haha” but I’m pretty sure she wasn’t lol

[joelsgoldrush]

“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k

worst!logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.

A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch 

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[steviescrystals]

guys things are happening

[beautysamour]

miguel accidentally overstimulating himself not realizing that his breeding kink kicked in 🤲🧎‍♀️

overstimulation with miguel o’hara ❤︎

— a/n: oh my

warnings ﾟ𐦍༘⋆: some vulgar language, mentions of having kids during sex

“Mi—Miguel,” you gasp out, wrapping your arms around his neck as he fucks you into the mattress, “‘s—‘s too much? Ah—are you oh—okay?”

You shudder in unison as he pumps another load of his cum into your drenched pussy.

“I’m fi—fine,” he stutters as his dick twitches. It hurts—he’s sensitive—but it’s not enough. He hasn’t given you enough.

A broken mewl escapes you as your head hits the headboard, Miguel tightens his grip around your waist to keep you from slipping off his cock as his hips stutter through his thrusts.

His visions blurs as you clench around his dick—he was surprised he was still able to move.

He chokes when your pussy flutters—the way you clamp down on his dick makes his body go slack and his eyes roll back.

You’re both covered in sweat, and cum, and saliva. You feel hot, the silk bedsheets Miguel bought does nothing to cool you down, and your head is spinning. Your heart pounds in your chest as your body tenses—you were about to cum again, and your pussy wanted to cry.

“Miguel,” you whimper, “‘m close, Miguel, ‘m close,” you whine. His dick deliciously rubs against your walls as he sticks his thumb into your mouth—your head hits the headboard.

“I know mami—me too.” Your head hits the headboard again, “Gotta fill you up again, don’t you want that? Gonna make you feel good, I promise mami, I promise.”

“Mig—“ he pushes his thumb down on your tongue.

“‘m gonna make you feel so good, mami,” he starts to babble, “Gonna feel so good.”

Somehow every movement he made was even more intense, you could feel every vein, every twitch, every—everything. He became more precise, every thrust ended with him hitting your g—spot, you were never sure if that was going to be the moment you came.

“Miguel—,” you babble, sucking his thumb. “‘m gonna cum, right there Miguel, I’m gonna—“

His thrusts became erratic, the feeling of your warm pussy engrains itself in his memory.

He’d definitely be going back to this memory.

“Wait for me mami, I’m almost there too,” he grabs one of your hands, bringing it close to his mouth, and he presses his lips against your wrist. “Gonna make you a mother, yeah?”

You bite his thumb.

He presses a hand against your stomach as the bed creaks, “Make me a father?”

His hips stutter as you moan around his thumb.

You avoid eye contact as he leans over you, the pure devotion in his eyes makes you feel tingles in your stomach—and make you feel even more of that in your pussy.

“Look at me when you come mami, pl—please. Need you too.”

You didn’t expect it to happen that quickly when you looked at him.

Miguel looks down at you with lust blown eyes, his hair drops down from his face, and his mouth hangs open—the hand holding your wrist shaking. He slowly thrusts into you as he came inside you—your own cum mixed with his leaking around his dick.

His chest goes up and down as he heavily breathes—fuck was he beautiful as always.

He dips his head pressing a quick sloppy kiss onto your lips, “You’re leaking.”

You laugh, “It’s your fault.”

You expect him to laugh, to take it as a joke and then pick you up to go take a relaxing bath and cuddle for the rest of night—but he doesn’t.

“Oh,” he purrs, “Well, I should fix my mistake, shouldn’t I?”

He drops your wrist and focuses on your left boob, he pinches your nipple—you moan softly.

You wince in unison when he starts to move his hips again, his free hand trailing down to your waist from your stomach, “Ha—have to make sure none of my cum goes to waste, right mami? Can’t risk you not getting pregnant.”

Tears weld in his eyes, your pussy hurts as you pulse around him. He lets out a weak breath, “You want me to cum in you again, right?”

Your head hits the headboard once more as he thrusts get stronger.

It hurts, you’re too sensitive, and you’re positive he is too—yet he’s right. You do want that, you want him.

With a broken, hoarse voice, you say “Yes.”

[deathxproof]

technically I get out of work early (compared to my usual schedule) tomorrow so I’m…. Hoping to get some writing done. or I could pass out as soon as I’m home from work because wake up early. who’s to say.

[2kiran]

FRANCIS MOSSES 交易 ── `` DARK CONTENT﹕monsterfucking. top amab reader. doppelgänger francis. handjob. no protection + preparation. overstimulation. ✶ IN WHICH you unknowingly let the wrong francis inside.

the prospect of you being fired—or worse, being put in a cell—was incredibly likely. enthusiasm of the milkman’s arrival being your final entry request for the day lead to your upcoming demise.

it shouldn’t be on you, both the blame and responsibility. the given identity document had indistinguishable information, merely an artist’s mistake as you finally realize that his eyebrows were just a tad thicker. his eyes were a bit too lively for the real francis.

realization dawned on you a second too late as you feel cold, but strangely simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar hands grab you from behind. before you could reach the rotary phone to contact the D.D.D., he grabbed your wrist and spun your chair around to face him.

francis, or so you thought, had a gentle smile plastered on his face but you knew better to tell that his intentions were far from truly kind. “don’t tell me you were actually going to let them kill me,” your jaw tightened, gaze hardening into a glare. he chuckled, hands landing on the armrests, so dangerously close to yours that were balled in fists to prevent yourself from punching his face.

when you didn’t respond, he continued. leaning in as he shook his head with a scoff, “aw, c’mon. . .we both know that you’re too much of a good sweetheart, yeah? please don’t try that again.” his saccharine voice was improbable, a subtle take of a threat behind his tone.

“you’re gullible enough to think i’d do that for you.” the tension between you was palpable, a thin thread that threatened to break at the tip of his finger. his lips pouted, sadness in his untrue eyes. “me? but you’re the one who let me in here,” he laughed, tone rather arrogant, “and i should thank you for that.”

if he were the real francis, you probably would have been making out with him by now. this doppelgänger was awfully confident, you wish you could break him. see tears fall down to his round cheeks, lips trembling as pleas tumbled out of his pretty lips.

these thoughts were idiotic. but fuck, he was near enough to the milkman, the clueless neighbor who could care less about it all. “want me to spare you? or—” you cut him off, lips connecting with his. francis was surprised, but welcomed it nonetheless. his hand came up to your neck, sliding towards your hair. groaning as he gently, almost experimentally, tugged at it. tongue met tongue, a clash of saliva and mess. you bit onto his bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan.

“mmph, and here i thought you hated me.” he grinned, panting, “what gave you that idea?” you place a kiss on his chin, “because you tried to get rid of me, and the fact that. . .i’m not him.” grabbing his hips, he let out a yelp. he scrambled to hold onto your shoulders for dear life, gasping when he felt your teeth graze against his neck. “seems like i’ve struck a nerve, hu—haah, fuck!”

a lewd moan had escaped him, your teeth sinking into his flesh. it was far from gentle, biting him like you wanted to see him bleed. he was simply a doppelgänger that you stupidly let in, after all.

the pink muscle settled in your mouth lapped at the bite, cueing francis to whimper at the sensation. he moved closer on your lap, grinding against your crotch. the action could’ve been mistaken for something relating to a dog; for he seemed like a bitch in heat. quite uncharacteristic for his kind. “you’re pathetic, mosses.”

francis, beyond belief, was affected by the use of the stolen surname more than you anticipated. his hips trembled, “that’s, haah, not my fault. you made me like this. fucking a– ah! doppelgänger, really? they’d surely co– come for you next.” his cock twitched, spilling pre-cum that formed a wet patch on his boxers. you were a lowly human, another one to get rid of, so why does he feel this way?

silence was met with his words. not until you pull down his pants, taking off what was left until his lower half was bare to you. “oh yeah? you’re letting me fuck you,” your fingers wrapped around the base of his dick, giving a single stroke, “you’re not even trying to fight back against me, honey.”

he whined, beginning to selfishly rut into your palm. “what were you going to say?” francis doesn’t respond and you twist your wrist, a cry slipping from him. you asked on a whim, wishing to hear what he planned besides allowing you to carry on with your life. “i-i don’t know!” your thumb presses down on his slit, causing him to wrack his brain to remember. “ah, ah, i meant to ask if you wa- want me to kill you right he— hmmng!” his voice wobbled as if he was fearful, tears in his eyes and he’s suddenly ethereal.

“do you still want to do that? to end my life?”

“no, no, please, i didn’t mean it.”

you tease the vein that ran on his shaft, never failing to witness the face he makes when he’s within the depths of pleasure; of that high he never dared to reach. oh, if only if it was francis mosses. the real one, the one you’re so curious about, the one who your eyes like to linger on a bit too long for comfort. your pace picks up, palm slick with his pre-cum and the room’s sinful with his sobs and arousal.

francis moans under his breath, “i’m cumming-!” he warns a second too late, hips bucking as the familiar fluid splatters across your fingers. the doppelgänger was your very own legendary mona lisa with how his face is painted with all shades of red.

when you swipe your thumb over his tip, he swore he had a glimpse of the deity he didn’t have the conscience to worship.

beliefs were foolish; it was his opinion. with that, he thought you were the one insane. doppelgängers aren’t flawed with such imperfections like humans are. he didn’t need to be prepared for situations similar to this, and you used his inhumanity for your pleasure.

“ughm, agh!” you had wordlessly given your cock a few pumps, no more than that before slipping inside of his tight hole. the tiniest beginning of guilt threatened to engulf you with shame, but why should you allow it? his mere purpose and intention was to murder.

his hole spasmed around you, freely welcoming the intrusion. maybe they were quite useful after all. he whined, his insides tingling with the stretch. the doppelgänger has never felt so full, or genuinely anything, for that matter. “please—fuck, move already, damnit.” he, himself, was breathless.

how could you deny him?

your hands grasped his hips tightly, like you wanted to indent a marking into his flesh. cold emanated from your palms, contrasting to the heat licking at his cheeks. he’s lighter than you’d expect, hole gripping you as if he was a fleshlight. lifting him up, your tip was held onto. heavenly; as the way he wrapped around you was undeniably heavenly.

sensing his apparent impatience, you let him crash down on you. a broken gasp-of-a-moan occupied the air, globs of pre-cum building on his slit. “yeah, fuck me like that,” he breathed, instructions hazily clear to your sex-deprived brain. his ass slapped, slapped, slapped against you. shit, the D.D.D. surely ought to give you a punishment worse than death for this.

he clung onto you, both with his arms and entrance. you don’t think you could really get enough—as vague as this memory could get. your tip brushes against his prostate with each harsh thrust, slick sounds adding onto the cotton pressed into his little head, forming static and nothing else to focus on besides your cock pounding into him. “you’re liking this- ahngm! right? like how good i feel? haa, needed your dick in me s’ bad. . .”

he pushed his hips forward, grinding on your cock as he purposely clenched. “thaaaat’s it, sweetheart. think ‘m gonna keep you.”

yeah, let’s hope your neighbors forgive you for indulging in him.

masterlist﹒divider﹒artist kaworinx

[miupow]

UNDER THE MOON

★ pairing。lee felix x fem!reader genre。⧼ 📖 ⧽ smut , comedy , pwp warnings。minors do not interact! demon!felix , witch!reader , magic , breeding kink , unprotected sex , sub to dom , oral (f. rec) , vaginal fingering , cowgirl position , mating press , creampie , overstimulation , dacryphilia , squirting , breast play , marking , size kink , monster cock felix lol , dirty talk , praise kink , degredation kink , name calling , power play , bulge kink , orgasm control , strangers to ???

★ synopsis。you accidentally summoned the wrong demon , but you won't let that get in the way of getting what you want.

a/n ⸝⸝ not proofread lol. let me know if there are any mistakes! this is my second longest fic to date, wow... i hope you all enjoy ! [ 5. 5k words ] ⸝⸝ [ m. list ]

any respectable, well-to-do witch knows that the perfect time to summon a demon is during the full moon. that was when the boundary between the living and the otherworldly was at its most blurred, and a person's magical ability was especially potent– you could feel it thrumming through your body just under your skin, concentrating at your fingertips, just begging to be released. accompanied by your excitement and nerves, you felt simply alight with power.

even then, you still couldn’t believe you managed to summon a demon.

the force of the summoning makes him fall flat on his ass, thick black smoke filling up your bedroom and snuffing out your ritual candles– you can only get a good look at him once the smoke clears out of your open window, the moonlight illuminating his form in the darkness. the first thing you notice are his mismatched eyes, wide and wild as he takes in his new surroundings; one was a deep dark brown, the other an icy steel blue, his pupils slit like a feline’s. his otherworldly beauty takes your breath away, a smattering of freckles across his high cheekbones, heart shaped face framed by curled black horns and platinum hair that cascades down to his shoulders; his inquisitive gaze travels to the summoning circle he was laid out on, ancient runes etched into your hardwood floor, and then to you, peering down at him from the edge of your big pink bed.

“h-how did you do that?!” the demon finally asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence. his thick aussie accent surprised you— you didn’t think demons could have accents other than whatever one they have in hell. “where did you learn how to do that?” 

“hello to you too,” you retort, rolling your eyes. “i summoned you here with my family spell book.”

“spell book?” he echoes, taking another look around your frightfully girly bedroom— he’s quick to spot a rather old-looking tome left open on the floor near where he sat in the summoning circle, propped up with a beady-eyed stuffed animal. 

“it’s been in my family for generations.” you stand to pick the spell book up off the floor, dusting the smoke residue off the pages. 

the demon blinked up at you, odd eyes raking over the lacey little nightgown you were wearing. “you, um, don’t really look like that kind of girl...” 

“the kind to be a witch?” you laugh. “i just summoned you here, didn’t i? listen, i need your help.”

“my help? with what?” he moves to stand up as well, patting down his crumpled leather vest— he’s much, much taller than you expected him to be.

you hide your gulp with a dramatic scoff. “i want to make a deal with you, idiot; what else would i have summoned you for?! that’s what you do with demons, isn’t it? and, like, sign over your firstborn or whatever.” 

the demon stares at you in abject disbelief for a moment before dropping his head into his hands. “you humans are so stupid…” he mutters under his breath. “i’m not even that kind of demon. i can’t make any ‘deals’ with you.”

“bullshit! what do you mean you can’t make deals with me?!” you retort, crossing your arms. “the spell specifically said it would summon an entity that would make all my dreams come true!”

the demon blanches and stutters, his freckled cheeks turning pink. for some reason, you didn’t think that demons could blush. “um… well, about that…” he laughs nervously. “i’m an incubus. not the kind of demon you’re looking for, i think… i’m not even that good of an incubus, to be honest with you…”

you cock your head, watching as the demon shuffles his feet, his pointed black leather boots scuffing up your floor. “why do you say that?”

“i’ve never been summoned like this before, by a mortal…” he admits softly, his blush deepening. “i’ve never been in the human realm at all before; i’m supposed to be using you mortals to strengthen my powers, prey on you in your sleep… but i’m just too nervous! you humans frighten me… the other incubi make fun of me for it. i’m a terrible demon, you probably need to summon someone different…”

his sad pout was so cute for a demon from hell, and you can’t help but giggle a little meanly at the incubus’ plight. “you’re a virgin incubus? i never thought there was such a thing…”

the demon scowls, his pretty face screwed up in a way that wasn’t intimidating in the slightest. “don’t laugh at me.” he whines petulantly, “i could kill you right now if i wanted to.”

“sure you could, loser virgin incubus.”

the demon’s scowl deepens, trying very hard to keep his odd eyes from wandering their way down to your breasts, pushed up in your nightie by your crossed arms. “shut up. don’t call me that.”

“what should i call you then?” you snicker. you can’t help but revel in the way the demon’s eyes eat you alive— while he seems gentle and harmless, the way his mismatched eyes seem to glow with something dark and venomous when he looks over you leaves you shivering. something darker seemed to be hiding just under the surface of this seemingly innocent incubus… and you yearned to discover just what that was.

“felix. my name is felix.” the demon— felix-- mumbles to his shoes. he seemed to have noticed that you’ve caught on to his staring, anxiously avoiding eye contact. cute.

“that’s not a very demonic name.” you remark playfully. “i like it, though. it suits you, felix.”

felix huffs and rolls his eyes, but you can see the beginnings of a shy smile tug at the corner of his lips, his sharp, vampire-like teeth poking out in an oddly endearing way. you won’t let his cuteness distract you, though— you took all this time and effort to summon him, and you were determined to not let it get wasted.

“so… do you have any cool powers or anything?” you press, “like, could you maybe… make somebody fall in love with me?”

felix blinks owlishly down at you. “um… what?”

“listen, there’s this guy on campus i like, right? he’s my roommate’s best friend and he’s just so dreamy… but he’s in love with this girl i can’t stand. it’s like he’s obsessed with her, it’s disgusting.” you huff, curling your lip. “i just want him to forget about her and see what he’s missing! can you make him fall in love with me or something, like cupid? make him obsessed with me instead— you can do that, right?”

“er, well, kind of—”

“you can? perfect!” you clap your hands excitedly. “do i just need to tell you his name, or—”

“wait, wait—” felix interjects with a flustered stutter, “hold on a moment! w-what’s in it for me? i don’t go around doing favors for free, you know.”

you think for a moment, an ingenious and devilish idea quickly forming in your head as you slide your gaze down felix’s fit body. you never expected hell’s demons to be so drop-dead gorgeous, but you supposed it made sense with him being an incubus and all… slowly your lips pull into a devious grin. sure, you summoned the wrong demon, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do your bidding anyway.

“you want to be a better incubus, right? want the other demons to stop making bullying you?”

“well, yes…”

“i can help you.” you offer, taking a step closer to the nervous demon in front of you. “i can teach you everything you need to know about pleasing a human… if, in return, you use your little demon powers to help me out.”

it takes felix a second to process just what you’re proposing, his eyes widening comically and his mouth dropping open in a gape. the blush on his freckled cheeks now burns crimson red, all the way to the tips of his pointed ears. “wh- wait, really, you— with me?!”

you nod with a sensual smile, taking another slow step forwards; just close enough to reach out and run a finger down his chest. “you help me and i’ll help you, okay?”

felix’s eyes flicker down to your lips, his adam’s apple bobbing with his gulp, and you can see it on his face when his flimsy resolve crumbles. “you’re lucky you summoned one of hell’s nicer demons, no other demon would ever agree to something like this— mmffh!”

you grab him by the lapels and pull him into a kiss in the middle of his sentence, his last words smothered on your soft and persuasive lips. he returned your kiss with reckless abandon, whimpering into your mouth. he was far too good of a kisser to be as inexperienced as he claimed, the tenderness leaving your knees weak and your thoughts spinning. a thin string of spit connects your wet lips when you pull away for air, snapping when felix darts a forked pink tongue out to lick his bottom lip in a daze.

“wow…” he whispers in awe, his sparkling eyes gazing at you through lowered lashes. “kissing humans is so much better than i thought it would be…”

his lips recapture yours, more demanding this time as that sinful forked tongue coaxed your lips open and explored the recesses of your mouth. the savage intensity of it sends a shock wave through your entire body, your senses short-circuiting— you tear your lips from his, quickly turn him around and push him onto your pink floral mattress. once again, you nearly succumbed to his distractions.

felix lets out a huff when his backside hits the bed, confusion paralyzing him just long enough for you to begin slowly undressing.

“woah, a little impatient, are you?” felix laughs, “you humans can never take anything slow…ly…”

he grows quiet as you slide the straps of your nightgown off your shoulders, the thin lace fabric pooling around your ankles. it left you completely bare except for a pair of tiny cotton panties, a little wet spot already visible in the white fabric. he ogles at your tits, round and perky with your nipples beginning to harden in the cool air.

his hungry gaze roamed over your figure, taking in your soft curves and tummy, dropping to follow your hands as you pull your panties down your thighs. they join your nightgown on the floor, and felix gets his first look at your pussy as you step out of them and kick them to the side.

“wow… you are so… beautiful.”

the sincerity in which he says it makes both your heart and your pussy flutter. you can’t hide your eagerness as you saunter forwards and begin to climb up on felix’s lap. “are you ready for your lesson?” you purr into his ear, your hand sliding up his thigh towards the growing bulge in his pants. just the size of the bulge alone makes your head spin— and he’s not even fully hard yet.

“h-hold on,” felix whimpers, grabbing your wrist, “you’re so small and, you know.. human sized… shouldn’t i, um, prep you? i don’t want to hurt you, i’m not one of those kinds of demons.”

you look back down at his bulge, just out of your reach with his fingers around your wrist. “that’s probably a good idea…”

you slide off his lap, positioning yourself in the middle of your bed; you rest your head among all your pillows and stuffed animals, all cute and cuddly and nothing at all like the dark energy that filled the room, the wicked smile on your face as felix crawls up the bed and in between your parted legs. he stares enthralled at your pussy, spread open all for him to admire— his hands come to grasp at the meat of your thighs, seemingly trying to ground himself as he takes everything in.

“oh, fuck,” he croaks, mismatched eyes glinting in the moonlight, “you’re already so wet, it’s dripping all over the sheets… it’s beautiful. have you been wanting me this whole time?”

your words get stuck in your throat, shuddering in arousal as you nod coyly down at him. he screws his eyes shut and lets out a deep, pathetic groan. 

“god, you’re so fucking sexy… i never thought i could get so aroused by a mortal.”

“i’m sorry, whose name was that?” you joke, still feeling mischievous even as your heart rattled in your chest. felix shoots you an irritated glare.

“oh, be quiet.”

he shuts you up with another searing hot kiss, demanding and passionate, and his stout fingers moved to tease at your wet, sticky folds. you gasp against his lips, squirming beneath him; the gentle stroking of his fingers sent jolts of pleasure through you, your pussy clenching around nothing but air.

“i’m not sure what to do…” felix mumbles, breaking your kiss to graze his lips across your jawline. “i’ve never done anything like this before… will you show me how to make you feel good?”

“just touch me,” you plead. “i want your fingers inside of me, please—”

felix starts with just one, short but deliciously thick as he slowly pushes it into your fluttering hole. “fuck, you’re so tight…” the stretch makes you cry out and claw at his shoulders, finally having something inside to ease the ache after being so needy for so long.

felix freezes with his finger buried inside to the knuckle, glancing down at you nervously. “did i hurt you?”

“no, no, feels so good—“ his hesitation would be cute if you weren’t so worked up, desperately grinding your cunt against his hand. “now move it in and out, nice and slow…”

he follows your directions dutifully, his movements slow and unsure, and despite his inexperience and anxiety, he quickly found a rhythm that flooded your shivering body with dizzying desire. waves of ecstasy crashed through you as you bucked your hips to meet his finger, whimpers and whines of delight falling from your open, panting mouth. his fingertip brushes your spongey sweet spot, electricity rippling under your skin and sending shockwaves through your core as you moaned in sweet agony.

“am i doing good, little human?” felix breathes shyly against your ear.

his eagerness to please made your pussy throb around him, sucking his finger in deeper—he was a quick learner, paying special attention to your sweet spot as you gushed slick all over his hand. “i think i am, you’re even wetter than before, it’s so noisy,” he accentuates his claim with a curl of his finger, the obscene wet squelches of your pussy ringing in your ears. “just look how well you’re taking it…is it okay if i add another finger?”

“yes! yes, fuck yes, please—”

he slides another fat finger in along with his first, his big eyes watching as he stretched your tight pussy out even wider for the cock you all but ached for. you sob in pleasure as he quickens his pace, curls his fingertips harder against your sweet spot. “wow, you can barely take two of my fingers..” the demon above you murmured in faux concern, “i don’t know if my cock will fit.”

you throw your head back with a lustful moan.

“tell me what you want from me.” he continues in a deep rasp, his accent only adding to the desire in his voice, “tell me what to do to make you cum.”

“t-touch my clit!” you hiccup, pretty manicured nails tearing at the fabric of his shirt.

you expect another finger, maybe his palm—what you don’t expect is for felix to trail soft kisses down your chest and belly, lower and lower until his plump lips were hovering over the curve of your pussy.

“wh-what are you doing?!” you squeal as felix kicks your legs over his shoulders, “do you even know what you’re doing down there?!”

“no.” felix shakes his head with a grin before diving his head between your thighs.

he attaches his lips to your swollen clit, his long tongue dragging up between your folds to circle the bud with shocking precision. he sucks gently on your clit while his fingers pump deep inside of you, his pretty moans and groans muffled with his face pressed against your squelching pussy. “you taste so good,” felix mumbles, his wide, mismatched eyes blinking up at you to take in every one of your reactions. “fuck, i love this pussy so much… think you can take another finger?”

he presses in a third finger before you can even respond, pussy stretched past your limits as you sob out in pleasure. it’s overwhelming in the best possible way, his fingers quickly pushing you closer and closer to the edge as he licks your clit and slurps up your juices. the flames of passion raged through your very being, and you abandon yourself to the knot tightening deep in your belly. you haven’t felt pleasure like this in ages, yelping as felix sucks particularly hard at your clit, and without thinking your arms dart down to grab ahold of his twisted black horns. the growl felix lets out against your heated skin is obscene, dark and beastly as he buries his face farther into your cunt, quickens the pace of his fingers against your sweet spot. “fuck yes, nasty girl, that’s it— grab my horns and just take it!”

you use your grip on his horns to buck wildly against his face, the knot in your belly threatening to snap as felix pulls his fingers out to grab your hips tightly. his clawed fingers dig painfully at your flesh, but it only heightens your sense of pleasure as he shoves his tongue deep into your wet hole. he tongue fucks your pussy with vigor, his groans and growls growing deeper and more demonic as he fucks you to your climax. “pussy’s so fucking good, can’t get enough…”

“felix!” you squeal when the forked tip of his tongue brushes against your sweet spot. “felix, i’m close, i’m gonna cum--!”

“say my name again, scream it!” felix crows with his face still buried in your cunt, the dark, powerful boom to his voice that hadn’t been there before making you finally hurtled you past the point of now return.

you scream his name as you squirt all over his face, nasty and wet as you ride out your high on his tongue— you’re quickly catapulted into overstimulation, tears pooling in your lashes as you whine and attempt to push him off you by his horns. if anything, that just seems to spur him on more.

“fuck no, i’m not done,” he growls, a dangerous edge to his voice frightening you and making your spent pussy throb all the same. “i need more, can’t stop— need to make you cum again, and again—”

he devours you like an animal, otherworldly strength keeping him flush against you even as you thrash and push roughly at his head. he doesn’t stop until you cum again, soaking his face and your sheets in sweet sticky slick— your pathetic cries seem to snap him out of it, hastily tearing himself away from your trembling little pussy to look up at you in worry and alarm.

“i-i’m so sorry, i don’t know what came over me! i just.. lost control— that was good though, right?”

his pretty pink lips and swollen and wet with your arousal, his freckled cheeks and chin smeared with it, even his nose; he gazes at you with big, watery doe eyes, the opposite of how he had been looking at you when he had his face between your legs. you babble incoherently, scrambled brain unable to string together a single sentence, your chest heaving with the aftershocks of two back-to-back orgasms.

felix smirks. “i’ll take that as a yes.”

his odd eyes snap back to your spent pussy, the primal hunger in his eyes making you throb despite of how spent you already were. “you look so pretty like this, all spent… can you take more? i need to be inside of you, now.”

your own hazy, unfocused gaze lowers to the straining bulge in his leather pants— the size of it makes you dizzy, a little frightened, but your overwhelming need for more outweighs any fear, and you slowly move to prop yourself up. “can i ride you? it’ll be easier for me to, um… take it.”

felix nods excitedly, as obedient as ever as he moves to take your place on the mattress. his platinum hair splays out around his head like a halo, his pretty face so angelic despite the fangs, tongue and horns… the imagery makes you snort.

“alright, you can get on whenever you’re ready— ooh!~”

you swing your leg over his waist without hesitation, straddling him as you begin to tug recklessly at his clothes. you pull his vest and shirt up to his chest, revealing twitching washboard abs that made your mouth water, and loosened his belt and fly. tugging his pants down to his thighs, his red swollen cock slaps wetly against his abs, rock hard and drooling pearly precum from the fat tip. you moan at just the sheer size of it, long and thick with the prettiest pulsing veins— you’re barely able to fit your hand around it when you reach down to take ahold of him, relishing in the low whimper felix lets out. you slowly slide your hand up and down his shaft, watching in rapture as more precum leaks from the head and slicks up your hand. it aids in the slide of your tight fist, felix groaning out pathetically as your other hand slides up your belly to pinch and roll your budding nipple.

you slide his cock between your pussy lips, your slick and his precum mixing together to make a sticky mess. you let his cockhead brush against your clit, the sudden shock of pleasure making the both of you moan— felix’s hands are shaking when they shoot up to take ahold of your waist. the lust on his face makes your tummy turn, the tenderness and sincerity in which he gazed up at you. “if it’s ever too much, tell me, please?” he breathes, his thumbs stroking the flushed skin. ”forget about the deal.”

you open your mouth to answer, but find yourself unable to speak; his tip catches your entrance, the sheer size of it pushing against your hole leaving you breathless and stuck in a silent scream. it feels so much bigger than three fingers, more than anything you think you’ve ever taken, and you freeze in a confusing mix of frightened and aroused.

“shh, don’t be scared, human,” felix coos, his steady hands keeping you firm against his cockhead. he squeezes your waist reassuringly. “i’m not going to hurt you, i promise.”

his tip slides inside with a pop, the gummy walls of your pussy gripping onto him like a vice as he steadies himself and slowly starts pushing in— the burning pain of the stretch is quickly overshadowed by a flood of pulsing red hot desire, drawing you to a height of passion you had never known before. never had any lover made you feel this way, trembling with ecstasy as your greedy pussy sucked in more and more of felix’s demon cock. “you feel so good, you’re so warm, so tight— such a good girl, taking all this cock!” felix keens, eyes rolling back into his head as you take him all the way to the base, his shiny mouth falling open in a desperate string of moans when his cockhead kisses snug against your cervix. “oh fuck, you took it all!”

you both take a moment to relax and adjust, catching your breaths as you pant into each other’s faces; felix waits patiently until you’re breathing goes steady and you unclench your pussy around him, begin to squirm needily in his grasp. “okay, you can start whenever you’re ready—"

like a woman possessed, you start bouncing on his cock before he can even finish his sentence, his fat tip hitting so dizzyingly deep inside of you with every movement of your hips. felix throws his head back with a broken cry, his hands flying down to grip harsh fistfuls of your ass as you ride him. “oh fuck, you should have warned me! fuck fuck fuck, slow down!”

you’re deaf to his cries, unable to focus on anything other than the explosive pleasure that coursed through your core; you plant your feet on the mattress to help strengthen your bouncing, so fast and rough nasty wet slaps echoed throughout the room every time your ass met his pelvis. “you’re so fucking big, so deep inside of me!” you whine.

“you’re just using me like a toy… are you feeling good, baby? yeah?” felix whimpers, voice weak and wavering, “n-naughty little girl likes being full of big, fat demon cock? o-oh god, you’re going to ruin me…”

you answer him with a wail, crying out his name once again as you claw red scratch marks down felix’s taut, muscular chest and abs. the sting just seems to make him harder, his cock twitching inside of you as he moans in pain and pleasure. his noises border on animalistic, deep snarls and growls that go right to your pussy. his mismatched eyes lock onto your chest, your perky tits bouncing obscenely in his face, and he licks his lips with that dastardly snake-like tongue.

“perfect girl, perfect pussy, perfect little tits— do you want me to play with them? suck on them? tell me what you want and i’ll do it.”

“please,” you sob, “please make me feel good!”

felix pulls you down so your body is flush with his, his hands leaving your ass to pinch and roll your nipples. his grip on your breast is bruising as he squeezes and fondles, pulling one into his wet hot mouth— the combined stimulation of his fingers and his mouth on your puffy nipples sending your senses into overdrive, the new angle making his cock feel even deeper inside of you than before, carving out space in your tummy as you moan in delight. he bites down gently on your nipple, pointy teeth teasing your bud, his plump lips and talented tongue caressing as they slowly move from sucking your swollen, peeking bud to trailing down the swell of your tit. he kisses a searing path up your sternum, leaving dusky purple marks in his wake as his hands continue their onslaught on your tits, massaging and groping with tantalizing ferocity. “why do you taste so fucking good? every single inch of you is delicious…” felix murmurs against your fiery skin, his canines ghosting over your collarbones, “you marked me up, pretty girl, now i have to return the favor… i could just eat you whole.”,

“fuck me!” you squeal, dripping pussy spasming around felix’s fat cock as you crash your hips down onto his. “fuck me, please, need it harder!”

“fuck, don’t say things like that— it’s taking everything i have to stay in control, baby, pussy’s so good! i-i’m being gentle for your sake, if i could have you how i want you i’m afraid i might break you—”

his words go straight to your cunt, lighting a fire of need inside of you; with an evil little smile you suddenly stop bouncing, your ass flush against his hips as you begin grinding tight little circles. felix tears himself away from your spit-soaked chest, utterly debauched as he gazes up at you with wide, desperate eyes. “n-no, wait, why are you stopping!?”

“i want you to break me, felix,” you purr with a sharp glint in your eye, teasing over his scratch marks with the tips of your fingers. “i want you to lose control and let me have it, please—”

in an instant you’re thrown across the bed, your back hitting your mattress knocking the wind out of you, and he’s on top of you before you can catch your breath. his claws snatch ahold of both your legs and tosses them over his shoulder, folds you over as he resheathes his throbbing cock back inside your gaping, drooling pussy. with inhuman strength he takes complete control over your body, trapping you beneath him and leaving you helpless, unable to do anything other than lay there and take it as he rams his cock inside of you. his bulbous cockhead knocks against your cervix so hard you fear he’ll push through, such a witty girl brainless and fucked stupid split open with his cock nestled deep in your tummy.

“you never wanted it slow and gentle, did you angel?” felix goads, his deep voice gaining an echoing, demonic edge. “you wanted me to treat you like a slut from the very beginning… such a nasty little witch.”

his mismatched eyes catch on the little bulge his cock makes in your tummy, disappearing and reappearing with every thrust; he presses down on your tummy with a devilish grin and a moan, able to feel his cockhead pounding up in your guts. “you feel me right here, don’t you baby?”

“s-so d-deep—!” is all you can manage to whimper, your teary eyes threatening to spill from the overwhelming pleasure.

felix coos at your fucked out face, his sharp nails digging into the meat of your thighs in a disorienting mix of pain and pleasure. “so cute, taking my cock so well… will you let me cum inside? i want to— i need to fill you up with my cum.”

“yes, yes— god, i’m gonna cum, please!” you beg, any last shred of dignity leaving in favor for your impending climax. your need for release clouded your mind, unable to think of anything except for creaming around felix’s cock as he shoots a hot load inside of you.

“who? god’s not here, baby.” felix crows, mirroring your own joke with a chuckle. you don’t have the energy to even get mad at him. “just us— now tell me how badly you want this demon to cum inside of you. be a good girl and beg for it… maybe i’ll give you that firstborn you want so badly?”

your tears finally fall as you surrender completely to uncontrollable ecstasy, sobbing for felix to breed you as his hips grow sloppy. he’s so close to the edge, just as much as you— you can feel it in the shuddering of his body, his broken whimpers, the tightness in his heavy balls as they slap against your ass. you grab fistfuls of the bed sheets to ground you, keep you from floating away entirely as you lose yourself in pleasure.

“cum together with me, angel,” felix pants above you, thrusting as deep as he could inside inside your pussy, “cum on my cock as i put a baby in you—!”

you cum all over his cock in a rush of exalted endorphins, your pussy spasming violently with your third and most powerful orgasm of the night. your gummy walls clamp down around his shaft, trying to push him out and suck him in deeper at the same time; you can see a foamy white ring formed around the base when he pulls out to thrust back in, a sticky and creamy mess down his balls and thighs. finally, with an animalistic grunt, felix stills inside of you to add to the mess, hot thick ropes of seed flooding your womb until you overflowed. you’ve never felt so full in your life, slick and cum oozing out around where felix’s cock stayed buried deep inside of you. you ride out the aftershocks in each other’s arms, falling into an intimate embrace as you both work to catch your breath.

“fuck, look at that…” felix whispers after a long moment of silence, his hips moving gently to thrust loosely. more cum leaks out from where you were joined, the both of you moaning at the sight. “there’s so much cum it’s leaking out… a-are you okay? was that good?”

“good?! that was the best sex i’ve ever had in my life—” you reply, moving to prop yourself up, but felix pushes you back down with urgency.

“no, no baby, don’t move, you gotta keep it all inside! stay still while i push it in deeper…”

before you can protest felix begins to wildly pound into your spent pussy again, his cock still rock hard and throbbing against your walls— you cry out in surprise and overstimulation, more exhausted and drained than you’ve ever felt before, yet your greedy pussy opens up for him with ease. he shushes your sobs and hiccups, his caresses gentle but his eyes wild and dangerous… he’s gotten drunk on the power of your love, lost all control to the beast that had been hiding inside of him for so long..

“i don’t think that’s going to be enough… i’m not stopping until i’ve bred you proper, just how you want it, right? we’re not done.”