#but they are both so good and wonderful and deserve love

[potatoplace]

I Don't Feel Alive

The Afterthought: Chapter 4 | series masterlist

ACOTAR x Archeron!Reader

part 3 | part 5 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: Starfall means dress shopping, and dress shopping means spending time with Nesta and Elain... the celebration is its own set of challenges that you struggle with.

Warnings: Body shaming, toxic family, slight disordered eating, suicidal ideation, self-deprecating thoughts (let me know if I missed anything)

Words: ~9.2k

Author's Note: it's heeeere I didn't get quite as far into the story as I wanted, but this was a good cut off point too. I really hope you guys like this one! I don't think I made it quite angsty enough, but there's still some. Plus a lil fluff to start. Enjoy! p.s. let me know who you think Y/N will end up with! Or anything else you have to say 🫶

18+ only pls

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

Your dreams were soft and fuzzy, filled with hazy scenes of you laying in bed and cuddling with your sisters, just like you had every night so long ago.

Waking felt similar, your body cocooned by soft blankets and warm arms, your own wrapped around someone's torso. You took a deep breath before opening your eyes, blinking them a few times to adjust to the sunlight filtering in through the curtains.

Mor's face was laying on the pillow in front of you, still relaxed with sleep. She looked even prettier like this, without stress and her busy schedule hanging over her.

You slowly unwrapped your arms from around her, taking care to not wake her. She deserved the extra sleep, with how much time she was going to be spending in the Hewn City through the end of the year.

You rolled onto your back, Mor's arms tightening around you as you did. It felt nice, being held again. In the past two years, you had forgotten how lovely it was to wake up feeling safe, snuggled up with your sisters.

The sound of Mor's soft, even breaths nearly lulled you asleep, before your eyes flew open.

Shoot! You had forgotten Nuala and Cerridwen's Solstice presents...

Mor's arms were gently pried from your body, which was harder to do than you had anticipated, but you managed without waking her.

You pulled on a dressing gown and quietly grabbed the two bags containing their presents. Your bedroom door snicked shut behind you, and you padded down the hallway, down the stairs, and to their bedroom. One knock had the door swinging open, this time greeted by Cerridwen.

"Y/N? Did you need something?" The wraith asked, her eyes widening slightly when she saw the presents in your hand. "Oh, you didn't have to do that, Y/N," she said, letting you into their room.

"But I wanted to, both of you have been so wonderful to me. And I already got them for you, so you have to open them," you insisted, placing each bag in their new owner's hands.

Nuala shook her head but opened her present anyways, a wide smile overtaking her face. "This is wonderful Y/N! Oh and you even got me metal threads, how did you know?!" The wraith embraced you tightly in her arms.

"And you remembered me complaining about my needles, oh mother, Y/N, you are the most thoughtful person!" Cerrdiwen exclaimed, stealing you from her sister's arms. "You will be the first person I make something for," she said after she loosened her hold on you.

"You don't need to do that..."

Cerridwen looked at you sharply. "Yes I do, and I will. Would you prefer a hat or scarf first? Oh, I'll just make you both," she finished, not giving you time to answer.

"Thank you in advance, I suppose," you said, blush dusting your cheeks. "I'm glad both of you liked your gifts."

"Of course we do! You pay so much attention to what you buy for people, it's so sweet," Nuala said kindly.

A heavier blush rose to your cheeks at their sweet words. "I just like to make people happy. Speaking of which, I should get back to Mor-"

"Back to me? But I'm right here!" Mor said brightly from behind you, causing you to jump in shock. "Sorry, Y/N, did I scare you?" Mor's arms wrapped around you from behind. "You left me, so I came down to find you. Want to do breakfast before everyone returns?"

You nodded in agreement, but turned your eyes to the twins. "Do you want to join us?"

"I'd love to," Nuala said, and Cerridwen nodded her head before replying the same.

"Girls' breakfast! Let's go!" Mor exclaimed, pulling you out of the twins' room, down the hall, and into the kitchen.

The twins trailed behind at a less excited pace, and met the two of you in the kitchen as Mor was pulling food out of the cold box. Bacon, sausages, eggs, broccoli, and cheese were taken out, and the four of you began making breakfast- most likely too much food for the four of you, but Mor insisted that once Cassian had returned he would eat any food that was left over.

You provided the tea, rushing upstairs to pick out an orange and ginger tea.

Breakfast with the three of them was lovely, only kind words and soft smiles being exchanged between you. It was much more peaceful than most of the meals you had taken at the dining table, and for that you were grateful.

Your sisters, their mates, and Azriel returned while the four of you were still gathered round the table, talking over the last of the second pot of tea you'd made.

"Good morning, ladies," Rhys said as he slipped into one of the chairs, pulling a glowing Feyre into his lap a moment later. "Did you have a good breakfast?"

You nodded in response, but it was Mor who spoke. "Yes, in a team effort we made far too much food. What about you lot?"

"It was good, but there wasn't enough," Cassian complained as he sat down, plucking a piece of bacon off of a plate. You smiled at his antics, you'd always found it funny how the male never seemed to be truly full.

"There's never enough for you, Cass," Nesta said as she took the seat next to him- directly across from you- and glared hard enough at you that the small smile on your face fell off in an instant.

"That's true, even though he devoured all of the sweets you gave him, Y/N, he was asking for more the moment they were gone," Lucien laughed as he did the same as Rhys, pulling Elain into his lap in the chair next to yours.

Fear clutched at your heart, though you knew it shouldn't. But the thought of Cassian enjoying the sweets you had made so much that he asked for more... You were scared of how Nesta might retaliate this time.

You tried to keep your breathing even as the conversation passed from one ear to the other, no words registering as they spoke.

"Y/N?" Feyre's soft voice broke through, pulling you out of your worried heart and back into the moment. "You're still up to go dress shopping with us tomorrow, right?"

Your eyes flicked up to her, then to her mate behind her who had a stern look on his face. You forced your eyes back to her slightly worried ones, focusing on the gentle blue that you'd known your whole life. "Uhm... Yes, I am," you managed to respond once you had played the question over in your head.

"Good! We were all thinking that noon would be a fine time to leave, that way the three of us can sleep in a bit after the revel tonight. Does that sound good to you?"

You could feel Nesta's burning gaze and Elain's judgemental eyes on you, stoking the fire of your fear.

"That sounds fine to me, Feyre," you replied, fingers working nervously over the painted irises on your teacup, focusing on the tiny ridges that the paint had created, your gaze now trained on them.

Better than seeing the hatred in Nesta's eyes.

"Perfect! Now that that's settled, I think we should all get to perfecting the revel for tonight," Feyre said, causing movement from all around the table.

Except you.

You sat, staring at your teacup until everyone was gone, disappeared off to their rooms or offices, or wherever they needed to be.

That left you to clear the plates, quickly washing the dishes and leaving them to dry in the rack. Your teapot was dried by hand, and filled with tea leaves and hot water once more. Thankfully you were able to retreat to your room without question, letting you escape back into your fantasy world you had created in your mind. Away from Nesta and Elain's combined ire, combined disdain for your very existence.

The lovely jasmine tea Azriel had gifted you helped you forget where you were, nearly convincing yourself you were back in the human lands, sipping tea in the living room with your father as you watched snow fall and bury that tiny little shack, falling asleep to the thought of it in your arm chair.

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

The next morning, you forced yourself from the arm chair, stretching out your neck as you did.

Somehow, it was less comfortable than sleeping in the bathtub.

Your soreness abated as you slid into steaming water, bubbling with rose scented soap- something that you were absolutely delighted by, loving that no matter what, your body was completely covered by bubbles. You hardly caught sight of your skin at all, though you knew with the day's plans, you would be forced to confront how your body had changed.

You could feel it, every now and then. The way your bones protruded just a bit more than they had a month ago. How your joints got sore from sitting or laying faster than before. How pale you had become compared to this time last year, when you had a slight glow to your skin.

This year, you were pasty. As though you had been locked away from the sun the entire time.

A sigh left your lips as you finished your skincare, the one act of kindness to yourself that you always made time for.

Your body didn't matter. It's not as though you would find someone in Prythian. After all, fae and humans shouldn't mix...

Feyre had said something similar to you, so long ago about your past crush on Cassian.

Thankfully in that time, only one person had caught your eye... And you were certain that Irina would never stoop so low as to date you of all people.

Another long breath, lungs deflating.

No, you were here to be alone. Mor and Feyre had begun trying to engage with you, for that you were grateful. They were keeping you from losing all hope once more, and it was all you could do to keep that flame alive.

Especially knowing that your own issues with your body would be added to by whatever Nesta and Elain deigned to say to you. Feyre may have told them to behave, but that wouldn't stop them from throwing barbs at you, thinly veiled by concern or 'opinion.'

Your cycle had finished the night before, leaving you tired but free of its scent, which you were overly thankful for. Mor's present was very nice, but you did not want to try the underwear out while dress shopping with your sisters.

You forced yourself to get dressed and headed out of your room, noting the time on the clock in the hallway. Half past eleven.

That should be enough time for a pot of tea, maybe taken in the kitchen? Or should you retreat to your room...?

You turned around and headed back to your room for a packet of tea leaves, this one a plain green tea. After grabbing it, you made your way downstairs, ears listening for any sign of life.

Perhaps they were all asleep still, exhausted from the revel the night before.

The kitchen was empty when you entered it, and you quickly set to making your tea. A few minutes later you were sat at the island in the kitchen, a cushioned stool beneath you. The tea was lovely and calming, it's clean, slightly sea scented aroma perfect for clearing your head.

That was until Nesta and Elain sauntered in, already talking about what dress styles and colors they were hoping to find today. Their conversation didn't stop once as they walked straight past you and into the living room, the only evidence of them noticing you was the feeling of their eyes on your back.

Suddenly, your heart wasn't so calm.

Feyre walked in a minute later, rushing over to you once she saw you seated at the island. "How are you?"

"I'm... I'm okay. How are you, Fey? How's the baby?"

"Oh I'm just fine, baby was being a little fussy earlier but they're all settled now. Are you ready to leave?"

You finished the rest of your tea in a few quick gulps, enjoying the feeling of warmth it brought, and stood from your stool. "I just need to wash this, and then I'm ready," you said, already making your way to the kitchen sink. That was done in a flash, and soon Feyre was ushering the three of you out the door, Nesta and Elain immediately locking arms and taking the lead. You and Feyre trailed after them, your own arms locked together after Feyre forced her elbow around yours, smiling at you when you looked at her.

All too soon, you arrived at the dress store in the middle of the Palace of Thread and Jewels, greeted by the owner, Tarin.

"Ah, the High Lady and her sisters! This is a lucky day for me, that's for sure," Tarin exclaimed as she approached Feyre, clasping their hands together. "What can I help the four of you with?"

"We're looking for dresses for Starfall, I know we're cutting it a bit close-"

"Oh, nonsense! For the High Lady, even the day of Starfall is not too close. Please, look around and pick out what interests you, we can have them altered if need be," Tarin said, waving her arms at the racks upon racks of dresses filling the shop. "I can also have them made up in different colors, and with any variations of fabrics you may like. Any way I can please you, my dears, and I am happy to do it."

Nesta and Elain set into the sea of fabric together, keeping close to each other as they picked through the racks. You stayed near Feyre, feeling wildly out of your depth.

Shopping for Solstice was one thing, it was shopping for those you cared for. But this...

This was shopping for yourself, and you struggled more with that. Buying the hairpin that you currently had twisted in your hair was a rare action, and one of the first non-practical purchase you had made for yourself since coming to Velaris.

"How about this one?" Feyre asked you, drawing you from your thoughts as she waved a dark purple dress in front of you, it's long sleeves waving as she did so.

"It's pretty," you said absentmindedly, staring at the way the fabric shimmered in the light.

"Do you want to try it on?"

Your eyes snapped up to Feyre's. "Me?"

Feyre laughed softly. "Yes, you. The cut is similar to dresses you've worn before, and you like purple, right?"

You looked back down at the dress, taking in the modest bodice and neckline, and the long length of the dress. "I like the design, but I think I'd prefer a lighter color, Fey," you said politely, but grabbed the dress anyway. "I'll try it on, though."

"That sounds fine, we could always get it made in a lilac color if you'd like," Feyre suggested, her hands already moving over more dresses. "You can go put that at the dressing rooms, then come back and look for more, okay?"

You nodded and did as she suggested, returning to her side and half-heartedly looking over the dresses hung in front of you.

Many of them were far too revealing for your comfort, with low necklines and slits up the thigh. You did find a few you thought Feyre may like, gowns that reminded you of the shimmering night sky, and showed them to her when you happened across them.

"Oh, I love this one," Feyre gushed when she saw one you had handed her, this one a dark blue silk with a smattering of silver stars embroidered across the chest and stomach, with a sweetheart neckline. The length of the dress would like reach her mid thigh, and hang just slightly on the tiny bump that was forming on Feyre's stomach. "What do you think?" She asked, holding the dress up to her body. "High Lady of Night enough?"

Even held against her body, the dress looked perfect for her. "Definitely. You should try it on, Fey," you suggested.

"Hmm... I think I will, Y/N. Are you ready to try yours on? I think we've both got a decent number," Feyre said, slowly walking with you to the back of the shop, where the dressing rooms were located.

"I am, I think," you replied, though you were unsure of being anywhere within a ten foot radius of Nesta. Especially if she couldn't find a dress she liked...

Thankfully at the moment, Nesta and Elain were both in their own dressing rooms, trying on whichever ones they had picked out.

You and Feyre entered your own curtained room, the dresses that you had picked out hung on the hooks inside.

A quiet sigh, and you set to undressing yourself. There was no mirror in here, likely to force people out to get recommendations from their friends. The purple dress that Feyre had found was the first you tried on, the soft fabric flowing down your body like water.

It clung too much.

That was your first impression of the dress, even with the modest neckline and hem length. The soft fabric seemed to be molded to your body, and even a cursory feel of your hands over your hips had you wishing you had rejected Feyre's offer to go shopping. You did not want to hear what Nesta would say about the slight show of your bones in the dress.

"Y/N, are you almost done? We're waiting for you," Feyre said softly from the other side of the curtain, and you forced yourself out of the dressing room. "Oh, you look lovely! I think the color looks nice on you," Feyre said kindly, even as her eyes lingered over the sharp edges of your shoulders, the noticeable bump of your hip bones.

"Do you eat?" Nesta asked sharply from across the room, her nose wrinkled as she took you in. "You look like you're still living in poverty, Y/N."

Blood rushed to your cheeks at her words. They were true, though. "I eat. I've just been..." you paused, trying to find a word that wouldn't irritate your sister. "Stressed."

Nesta scoffed, but shut her mouth at a stern look from Feyre.

"The color is nice, Y/N," Elain said weakly. You forced a smile in her direction.

"Thank you, Elain. Your dress is lovely, green is a wonderful color on you," you said, taking in the flowing layers of fabric that made up the skirt of the dress, all in varying shades of dark green.

"Thank you," Elain replied, but moved her gaze to Nesta. "Nes, your dress is gorgeous. I think you should stick with that one, no need to look for others. You look perfect," Elain said excitedly, so different from her reaction to you.

You tried not to let it sting, turning instead to Feyre. She was clad in a floor length dress in black, tiny diamonds sewn on in patterns that you thought were constellations. There was a slit up to her mid thigh on both sides, allowing her to move freely. "This one is beautiful Fey, you look stunning!"

"You think? I still want to try on that last one you picked out, but I really like this one," Feyre said. "Oh, and I may have put an extra dress in your dressing room, please just try it on, I think you'll really like it. It's the pink one on the left hand side. Just, try it," Feyre begged you softly before returning to her dressing room, Nesta and Elain already back in their own.

Your mouth set into a line, you entered the curtained room again. As she said, there was a glittering pink gown hung on the left hand side when you walked in. Your mouth fell into a frown at the neckline.

Entirely too scandalous for you.

But still, you forced yourself to shed the purple dress and shimmy into the pink one as Feyre had asked. The long, flowing sleeves were off the shoulder, connected to the bodice by a small amount of fabric. The neckline of the dress was far lower than you were normally comfortable with, showing more cleavage than you ever had. The dress was loose fitting past your chest, the flowing skirts moving beautifully as you examined them. The pale rose pink of the fabric was one of your favorites, and didn't wash out your complexion. A difficult task, with how pale you are at the moment.

You walked out of the dressing room and stood in front of the mirror, assessing the dress. Your shoulders were far too bony, but even so... You felt beautiful in the dress, like a princess. The skirts reached your feet, billowing out around you. The neckline was lower than you wanted... But it looked lovely, and really, wearing one low-necked dress in your lifetime would be fine. A turn in the mirror showed you your prominent scapulae, half hidden by the fabric of the dress. That could be fixed by styling your hair in large ringlets, enough to cover most of your back. But the gown... The gown was lovely.

"Oh, I knew you would look perfect in that one!" Feyre cheered when she exited her dressing room in the dress you had picked for her. "You look amazing! Please tell me this is the one you want?" Feyre asked, standing by you as both of you stared in the mirror.

"You don't think it's too...?" You gestured to the neckline. "Revealing?"

Feyre shook her head. "No, mother no. I've worn much worse, you have nothing to worry about. It's just a little bit different than usual, is all. And it's perfect on you."

You tried to believe Feyre, and you did like the dress...

But then Nesta walked out. Her eyes narrowed and nose wrinkled as she gave you a once over, obviously displeased with how you looked.

She was so good at that. Tearing you apart with just one look.

"Your shoulders stick out," Nesta remarked as she took her place in front of the mirror, looking herself over. Her dress was made of shiny silver fabric, a corset in the same fabric serving as the bodice with thick straps wrapping over the tops of her shoulders.

You ignored her comment as best you could. "You look amazing in that dress, Nesta. The corset fits you perfectly."

A cold look over her shoulders, followed by a clipped, "Thank you."

Elain came out of her dressing room last, this time clad in a cream colored dress, looking every bit like the bride she was always destined to be.

"Oh, Elain! You look wonderful!" You said brightly as you took a step toward her, stopping when her gaze hit you- cold as ice. "This one looks very nice on you, but the last one looked amazing too," you said, more nervous now.

"Thanks," she answered coolly, setting her eyes on Feyre. "Feyre, that dress is stunning on you, and very fitting for Starfall."

You nodded in agreement, the dress was perfect for her. And just like you thought, it just barely highlighted the tiny baby bump Feyre had. The sight of it made you smile.

You were overjoyed that your sister had found a loving partner in Rhys, and was looking forward to motherhood.

"Thank you, 'Lain, I really like that it shows my bump just a bit, I think Rhys and I are ready to let our court know that we're expecting at Starfall," Feyre said excitedly, a hand stroking her belly.

"That's amazing, Feyre," Nesta said softly, sounding the kindest she had since they had been taken by Hybern.

"You'll be the talk of Starfall," Elain said, holding Feyre's hands in her own. "I'm so excited for you and Rhys!"

"I don't want to make the biggest deal out of it, after all, it's still early, but... Rhys is so excited about finally being a father, I had to talk him down from telling the Hewn City residents about it last night," Feyre sighed. "I am glad that I'm going to have all of my sisters with me, supporting me along the way, though. Thank you all for coming shopping today," Feyre said tearily.

"Of course, Feyre," you said, taking her in your arms. "We're always going to be by your side."

Elain's arms followed next, barely touching you but clutching Feyre close. "Yeah, Fey, we'll always be with you. Right, Nes?"

"Of course. I will always be here for you, Feyre," Nesta said, and reluctantly wrapped her arms around Feyre and Elain, one hand just barely touching you.

When you all pulled away, Feyre was crying softly, tears streaming down her face. You grabbed tissues from a nearby table, dabbing away the tracks of starlight on her face. "It's okay, Feyre. We're all here."

"I-I know," Feyre sniffled. "I just... I love you all so much. I can't imagine life without any of you." She let you wipe her eyes, dabbing away the last of her tears after she collected herself. "Now, let's try on the rest of the dresses, we shouldn't waste too much of Miss Tarin's time."

The four of you continued to try on dresses, with much of the same behavior. You attempted to compliment your sisters, only to be met with cold responses. If they did talk to you, it was to point out how the dress didn't suit you.

You still chose the pink dress that Feyre had chosen for you, Feyre choosing the blue one that you had picked for her. Nesta picked the silver gown. Elain had taken the longest to decide, eventually choosing the green dress she had tried on first.

Feyre had argued over the payment with Tarin, demanding that she pay full price for the rushed orders, eventually winning the argument. Nesta and Elain had left by that point, taking off to some vague location that contained books.

That left you and Feyre, walking slowly across the bridge that would lead you to the Rainbow. She wanted to look at paints, and maybe get something special for the canvases that you had gotten her.

And that's how you found yourself entering Irina's shop once more, your heartbeat kicking up when you realized it. Feyre led you to the wall of paint, her fingers hovering over the tubes as she searched for the colors she wanted.

Soft footsteps approached from the back of the shop, and you were met with Irina, her face just as beautiful as you remembered, her smile just as warm.

You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat.

"Ah, Feyre and Y/N, it's lovely to see both of you," Irina's smooth voice said. "You came in just in time, I was about to close up early."

"Lucky us!" Feyre said, eyes still glued to the paint tubes. "Any special occasion?" She asked Irina teasingly as she pulled a few out of the selection.

"Oh, hush you," Irina scolded, swatting Feyre gently on the arm. "You know that I have a date with Rivin tonight."

*Oh.

Your heart sank.

"Well, I wanted to make sure the plans were still on! You know I was rooting for the two of you to get together," Feyre said. You grabbed the paint tubes she had picked up from her, pushing her slender hand away when she attempted to take them back. Your fingers rolled over the cap, giving you a sensation to focus on besides your crushed... crush. "The way the two of you danced around each other since I first met you was adorable- I'm so glad you're going out now!"

"Well, I'll only be able to go out with her if you choose what you want soon, or she'll think I stood her up!" Irina laughed, her skin shifting colors under the light.

"Oh, fine, fine," Feyre said, pulling out three more tubes of paint, all shimmering metallic shades. You followed her as she followed Irina to the back counter, placing the tubes on it. Soon enough, the paints were rung up and bagged, and clutched tightly in your arms. "Thank you, Irina. I hope your date goes well."

"Oh, I do as well!" Irina said as she walked the two of you out of the store, locking the door behind her. "I hope the two of you have a lovely rest of your day as well."

"You as well, Irina," you said quietly, nodding your head to her before she turned to leave. She flashed you a dazzling smile, her eyes a bright pink today.

So pretty.

"I'll see the two of you around!" She yelled, waving goodbye over her shoulder.

You and Feyre began the walk home, arms linked together one more, your other balancing the bag of paint.

"How do you know Irina?" Feyre asked once you were crossing the Sidra, taking careful penguin steps so neither of you would fall on the slippery bricks.

Color rushed to your cheeks, though they were already pink from the cold. "Oh, I went into her shop to get one of your birthday presents. The canvases and all," you explained.

"Ahh, that makes sense. She's nice, and she has a great selection!" Feyre said excitedly as the two of you passed through the door of the River House. "I cannot wait to start the first three panels! I'm not quite through my third month yet, but I know some of what I want to do for it."

"I'm glad you like it Fey! I can't wait to see what you make for each one." You kicked off your boots after unlacing them, and let Feyre pull your jacket off your arms, you doing the same for her after. "I think I'm going to head up to my room," you said quietly after you hung up your coats and put your boots on the rack.

"Oh, alright. I... I hope you didn't feel too uncomfortable while shopping," Feyre said. You knew what she meant: with Nesta and Elain.

"I was... fine," you lied half-heartedly.

Feyre stared at you, and you would have thought she was reading your mind, but you didn't feel anything similar. "If you say so. You know you can talk to me, right?" You nodded. "Okay... Well, I'll let you get to your room. Did you want me to start water for tea? I was going to make a cup for myself anyway," Feyre offered, a soft smile on her face.

You nodded again. "That would be nice, thank you, Fey."

Feyre's smile broadened. "I'll see you in the kitchen, sissy."

You went to your room to grab another packet of tea from the sampler Azriel had gotten you- so far, you were a fan of every blend he had chosen. You were hoping today's choice of a rose petal tea would be just as lovely.

The trip back to the kitchen was quick, with no sign of your other two sisters. Good. You weren't in the mood to see their sneering faces again so soon.

Tea was made quickly, thanks to Feyre boiling water for you. You gave her a hug before returning upstairs, tray balanced in your arms.

Just before you opened your door, the door to Rhys's study swung open, Azriel emerging from it.

*Oh!

He came down the hallway, and once he was near the stairs you finally got your brain to move past your anxiety of starting a conversation.

"Hi, Azriel, would you uhm... Would you wait here for just a moment?" You asked. "I have that Solstice present I got for you."

"Alright," Azriel replied quietly, moving closer to your doorway. You went inside quickly, fishing the already wrapped box out from under your bed, and a moment later you were back in front of him, offering the gift to him.

"Open it," you said, pushing the box into his hands.

Soon enough, the dagger was in his hands, his fingers running over the inlaid crescent moon made of sapphires, then over the blade itself. "This is wonderful, Y/N, thank you," Azriel said, sincerity in his tone. "I happen to have gotten a gift for you as well." A moment later, shadows materialized, depositing a festive, glittery evergreen tree colored bag in his hand.

"Oh, Azriel, you didn't have to-"

"Open it," Azriel said simply, transferring the handles over to your hand in a quick movement.

You narrowed your eyes playfully at him, but opened the bag. Inside was a beautiful, hooded cloak that would reach at least your mid back, made of a soft, white yarn. Beneath it was a matching scarf, little tassels on the ends, and a pair of mittens. They even had a small button on the top, allowing for the and of the mitten to be lifted and become a sleeveless glove if needed.

"Its made of rabbit fur," Azriel said quietly as you ran your fingers over the fabric. You looked up at with him with wide eyes. "Oh- they just brush or shave the rabbits, don't worry, no fluffy creatures were killed in the making of your gift," Azriel reassured you.

You let out a breath of relief. "Good. Good. It's a beautiful present, Azriel, thank you. Could I- could I give you a hug?" You asked nervously, regretting the question the moment you asked it. "I mean, you don't have to-"

"That would be fine." You blinked up at him. That would be- You allowed yourself to wrap your arms around him, noticing how stiff he was for the first few seconds before relaxing, his own arms coming up around you.

He smelled nice. Like cedar wood and... And night? Whatever it was, it was nice. Calming.

You both retracted your arms at the same time, pulling apart. A soft smile at him and one last thank you, and then you were in your room once more.

You were happy that he liked your present, but the slight wash of warmth it had given you was quickly chased away by the rest of your day.

Nesta and Elain... You were sure that they would never look at you like a sister again.

And Irina... It was such a silly crush that you had, based almost entirely on how pretty she was. You had been taken with her instantly, yes, breath catching in your throat. But that... That meant nothing.

Especially with you still being... Human. Frail. Less than a century from dying.

No fae, no matter how they looked, would ever take you as their wife, that you were sure of. You only had a couple of decades left of looking youthful, and perhaps only a few more past that before illness would inevitably take you.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you sat at your desk, a cup of tea poured out in the next moment.

At least tea could never not choose you...

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

The next week and a half passed dreadfully slowly, spent mostly in the solitude of your room.

Feyre came by when she could make time, the two of you sharing a pot of tea and the occasional snacks that she would bring.

Mor was stuck in the Hewn City, all the way until the morning of Starfall, when she would have a slight reprieve. She had already promised to come and spend the morning with you to get ready and catch up.

But until then, or until Feyre could make time... You stuck to your room.

Apparently your giving a joint present to Nesta and Cassian, and Elain and Lucien cause some extra anger in the two of them towards you. Nesta's glare had seemed extra fiery, and Elain had appeared perched on Lucien's lap more often than not when you did happen to wander into the living room.

You tried not to let it get to you, you did... But between the extra tension at home and the sadness in your heart from your silly little crush... It was weighing you down.

The days ticked past, counting down to an event that you weren't particularly excited for...

The morning of Starfall arrived, bringing with it the bright ball of energy that was Mor.

"Y/N!" Mor shouted, startling you awake. "Wake up! Wake up wake up! I'm here, I'm here. Please. Wake up. I've missed you!"

"Oh my gods, Mor, I'm awake," you groaned, rubbing your hands over your eyes. "Do you know a gentle way to wake people up?" You asked as you sat up, pushing your hair away from your face.

"Mm, not really. But, my way is super effective," Mor said cheekily, grinning when you stood up in the tub to glare at her with no fire in your eyes. "Come over here, sweets," she demanded, patting the bed next to her. You went over to her, collapsing onto the bed next to her, and swatted at her with a pillow in revenge for her waking you so abruptly. "So, how have the past two weeks been for you?"

"Oh... You know... Boring..." You said quietly. "How's it been for you? Is everyone behaving?"

Mor narrowed her eyes at you for a brief moment, before accepting your change of subject. "Oh, most everyone has been fine... I've been trying very hard to change the city's voting system plus helping plan their Starfall event, so my hands have been full every waking moment. And Keir has been an absolute pain..." Mor sighed. "He doesn't like that he's losing most of his control by the city moving to a full population vote rather than just the nobles, but it's going to happen whether he likes it or not. But for me, that just means him being more of an ass."

"I'm sorry Mor. I wish that someone else was able to help you..."

"Feyre offered, but, well, with her being pregnant that's not the best idea. And I'm sure Amren would enjoy going solely to terrify the citizens, but that's not exactly... What we're aiming for. And I can do it, and I will, I just wish my stupid father wasn't a factor." Mor sighed dramatically and flopped back on your bed, arms flung out to the sides.

One smacked into your thigh and you laughed, pushing it off of you and back over to Mor's side. "I know something that will cheer you up," you offered.

"Oh?" Mor asked, peeking over at you. "And what would that be?"

"Doing our skincare!" You answered brightly, using the same tactic that she always did with you.

"Oh, I should have guessed!" Mor giggled. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, sweets. Let's get to it!"

"Wait- let me take a quick bath first, and then I'll be all ready for it."

Mor nodded. "That sounds fine, I'll go make some tea and grab some breakfast for us."

The morning moved quickly from there- too quickly, in your opinion, your alone time with Mor slipping away so fast. After you had bathed, the two of you did your skincare, doing an extra mask and moisturizer to give yourselves an extra glow.

Into the second pot of tea Mor started doing your makeup once she had seen your dress. She spent nearly an hour on you alone, taking her time to perfect your eyeshadow and lipstick, getting just the right about of blush coloring your cheeks. You felt beautiful, seeing yourself like that in the mirror.

Mor's own makeup didn't take near as long, but she was even more beautiful than usual, with the extra time she had put in.

The two of you spent a bit more time together before she had to leave and return to the Hewn City for a bit longer, to make sure their celebration started smoothly.

"I'll see you at the House of Wind later, yes?" Mor asked before she left your room, a stern eye on you.

You sighed. "Yes, Mor, I will see you at the House of Wind. I *won't skip out on the celebration, I promise."

Mor nodded in approval. "Good. I'll see you in a few hours, Y/N."

She breezed out of your room, leaving you alone once again.

You sighed, and sat down on your bed. Then collapsed back onto it.

Just a few more hours, and your anxious anticipation could subside.

Starfall would be fine this year. You will stay away from Nesta, Elain, and their mates, and instead stick around Feyre, Mor, and possibly Azriel, if he didn't seem too annoyed by your presence.

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

Four hours later, you were dressed and ready to leave for the House of Wind. Your hair was half pinned up by the hairpin you had bought yourself, half left down in loose curls that conveniently covered most of the bones in your back.

There was little you could do to cover your shoulders, what with the style of the dress, but you felt pretty nonetheless. The gown had been taken in slightly, just enough to fit more snugly and leave you feeling more comfortable with such an exposed neckline, more secure. And the way the skirts flowed around your feet made you feel more graceful than you were.

Overall, you felt decent about yourself tonight. Your hair had cooperated, not making you late for the start of the event by taking too long to style. And the makeup that Mor had done was perfect, just enough to enhance your natural features.

You had even opted for heels tonight, little sparkly silver boots that Feyre had gotten for you, in case you wanted something more than flats to wear.

When you finally left your room, you made your way downstairs where Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel were waiting in the entryway, seemingly for you.

"Oh, Y/N, you look beautiful!" Feyre exclaimed when she caught sight of you, rushing over to pull you into her arms. "I just love this dress on you!"

"Yes, both of you look lovely, but Feyre...?" Rhys started.

"Oh, shoot! We need to get going, Y/N, but Azriel will take you up to the House when you're ready!" Feyre said brightly, leaving the house a moment later and letting her mate take her in his arms, shooting of into the sky together.

Your heart dropped. Flying? You had only flown a few times, usually to get to the House of Wind as you would be tonight. It still terrified you as badly as it did on the first time, leaving you shaking every time.

"Are you ready to leave?" Azriel asked, pulling you from your thoughts. You nodded, and followed him outside, even as you felt like your heart was in your throat at the prospect of flying.

He gently pulled you into his arms, one hooked beneath your knees and the other supporting your back. Your arms instinctively flew around his neck, ready to hold on for dear life.

Not that you didn't trust Azriel to keep you alive, just... You weren't made for flying, you don't think.

The push off from the ground had you closing your eyes, squeezing them shut tight. You could feel your heart racing, trying to leave your chest as you were overtaken by fear.

"You look beautiful tonight," Azriel said, his deep voice in your ear causing your eyes to snap open.

"You don't have to lie..."

Azriel let out a soft breath. "I'm not lying, you look beautiful tonight. Pink is your color, I believe," He said, his voice right in your ear again. Color rushed to your cheeks at his compliment, and you smiled- small, but there.

A moment later, he had landed solidly on the ground, carefully placing you on your feet.

You'd nearly forgotten you had been flying.

Soon after distancing yourself from him, Rhys rushed over to pull him away for some reason or another. Which left you standing alone in the House of Wind, for the first time since Bounty Day.

Anxiety grew in your gut again, making you feel queasy.

Especially when you saw the feast, laid out over that same massive dining table.

You turned away from the banquet, navigating instead to Feyre's side. Already she was surrounded by a few citizens, but you were able to make your way in for a hug from your sister. Soon though, more far crowded in, and following the arrival of Rhys you broke away from your sister, no longer feeling welcome next to them.

You wandered off, searching for Mor in the ever growing sea of people, with no luck yet.

Azriel, the other person you knew that could be safe to talk to, was occupied talking to a very pretty redhead, and also next to Nesta and Cassian.

Definitely a no.

After a while, you filled a small plate with food, picking at the smoked meats, cheeses, and some pieces of fruit until you couldn't stand it anymore, taking the plate back into the kitchens.

Back here, it was quieter. A few stragglers were wandering in and out between the balconies nearby, but you paid them no mind as you got a glass of cool water from the sink.

You let yourself take a few deep breaths to calm yourself, to bring yourself out of your anxiety. It helped, but not much.

It was enough to allow you to wander back out into the party, passing more than enough males who eyed you up and down, leaving you nervous. You were almost tempted to grab a glass of wine, but you knew all that was provided was faerie wine, something that you never wanted to try after hearing some of Feyre's tales involving it.

You knew this dress was a mistake. A beautiful one, yes, but it left you feel exposed unlike every before.

Every few minutes, you circled back to where Feyre was, seeing if there was an opportunity for you to ask her to take you back to the River House, or have someone take you back. But every time you passed, there was somehow more people crowded around Feyre and her mate.

Mor was nowhere to be seen two hours into the party, leaving you adrift in the sea of fae that had overtaken the House of Wind. You were overwhelmed and feeling so alone, the noise of the party drowning out any coherent thoughts you could have.

Just make it to the Starfall, and you can go.

That's what you told yourself for an hour as you continued your slow circles of the main rooms, attempting to find Mor or see if Feyre was available. No luck for you, though.

Cheers erupted as the first streaks of glowing green overtook the sky, giving you your cue to leave.

You didn't care that it was cold and snowy out, you just needed away from the noise, the lights, the everything that always surrounded you.

The stairs were hell in your heeled boots, but you dealt with them, forcing yourself to go one step at a time. By some miracle, you didn't fall, merely ending the massive flight of stairs by sitting down at the bottom to catch your breath.

Tears had begun falling down your cheeks at some point, driven by the cold and how lonely you feel, how forgotten you felt yet again.

You finally pushed yourself off of the cold stone, the bottom of your dress now wet with snow.

The forest would give you the peace you wanted, though you wouldn't venture near as far as you had last time. No, tonight you just wanted a bit of peace, a bit of time with only natural light shining upon you, even if it was enhanced by the cosmic phenomenon going on above you.

Your feet carried you to the edge of Velaris, the forest in your sights. A sigh of relief left you as you saw the trees, so reminiscent of the ones you had grown up near.

And then you crashed into a wall.

"What the-?" You rubbed at your nose, attempting to soothe the pain of crashing into- whatever you had crashed into. You held your hands out, shocked to find that they rested perfectly on an invisible force in front of you. Nothing that you tried let your hands pass that point, and a kick at the area led to the same results- a foot that you knew would hurt badly in the morning.

You couldn't *believe it.

They had locked. You. In. They had taken any amount of freedom you could have, no matter how fleeting it would inevitably be.

Ice cold rage and swells of disappointment left you a sobbing mess as you stumbled away from the wall of your cage, following the Sidra with no true destination in mind.

You would not be going back to that house. You couldn't. Not when- when... Not when Feyre had okayed you being locked inside of the city like nothing more than a pet, like you weren't a person with feelings and needs and desires.

You were sick of being alone, sick of feeling alone even in a sea of people. You had no one who was just yours. And that would never change in Velaris, would never change unless you were around humans once more.

"Y/N!" A warm voice said, drawing your eyes from the snow covered ground to the person it came from. "How did the recipe I gave you turn out? Good?" Sevenda asked, her smile turning to a frown when she saw your tear covered, blotchy face. "Is everything okay, dear?"

Another sob left your lips, despite your attempts to quiet it. "I- I- No," you managed to get out.

"Oh, come in here for a minute, Y/N, you're freezing!" Sevenda said, pulling you into the back of her restaurant. She pushed a cup of tea in front of you, which you gladly accepted, your fingers warming instantly from the mug. "Did you want to talk about it?" She asked after a couple of minutes.

You shook your head, but sighed and answered anyways. "I just... I don't belong in that house, I don't belong in Velaris... I can't... I can't keep pretending like I do, acting like I'm happy to be there... I need..." You sighed again. "I need out of there." And then an idea struck you. "I- I know this would be a lot to ask, and that you likely don't need help from a human but... Do you happen to need help here? I could do anything you need, I just..." You trailed off.

"You need out?" Sevenda asked, sympathy on her face and in her voice. "Well, I did lose one of my prep cooks to the Continent recently, he went to study new styles of cooking. If you are serious about this, I will have you show up at nine tomorrow morning. Okay, dear?"

You nodded your head vigorously. "I would be so grateful, Sevenda, truly, thank you so much." You let the older fae pull you into her arms, the gentle hug enough to stop your tears for the moment.

"Are you going to be alright, dear?" She asked once she pulled away, looking you in the eyes. You nodded your head, not trusting your voice at the moment. "Okay. Let me get you a cup of tea to go, and you should go straight home, hmm?"

You let her do just that, accepting the hot jasmine tea in a lidded cup that she made you promise to bring back in the morning. After saying goodbye, you set off in the opposite direction of the River House.

No matter how cold you were, you didn't feel like going back there yet.

Some time later, you found yourself on a cliffside, overlooking the bay of Velaris. Your tea was long gone by now, any warmth it had given you gone with it.

The rocks down below looked so inviting, as though they would welcome you in an instant. You let out a long, heavy breaths, tears beginning to flow again.

You wish you had the strength to jump.

Instead, you sat on the edge of the cliff, booted feet dangling over the side. The snow underneath you was frigid, leaving you colder than before. But still, you sat and watched the waves, and listened to the crash on the rocks below.

"Y/N?" A deep voice asked from behind you, but you paid it no mind. Maybe they would leave you alone. "Y/N?" The voice asked again. After another length of silence from you, the person took another approach, and sat next to you instead, their own long legs dangling over the edge. A warmth behind you, and less wind hitting you after the male readjusted. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You still didn't answer.

Instead, you were surprised by gentle hands winding a scarf around your neck in two loops, then a cloak being fastened over your head and buttoned in the front, and finally a pair of mittens slid over your hand.

Azriel didn't make you talk, didn't make you do anything. He simply let you take the time you needed to recover, to stop your tears.

A while later, the waves started to lull you to sleep, your head tilting to the side until Azriel pulled it to his arm, letting you rest against him. Your eyes fluttered shut, your cheek soaking in the warmth of him, even through the hood of your cloak.

It was only when you nearly pitched forward off the cliff that Azriel insisted on taking you back to the River House, or at least to a café where you could warm up.

"I suppose..." your voice cracked. "That going back to the River House would be... fine... for now," you whispered, glad that he didn't force you to speak any more. A moment later and you were pulled through shadows, similarly to how Nuala and Cerridwen travelled but... different in a way. Almost warmer, you would say.

The two of you appeared in front of your bedroom door, the warm air shocking your skin and making you feel clammy.

"I'll have my shadows bring you a pot of tea, feel free to take a bath or change so you can warm up, Y/N. I hope you have a better night that it has been so far," Azriel said quietly before turning to leave.

"Thank you, Azriel," you croaked just before he turned to go down the stairs. He gave you a small smile and nodded before continuing on his way.

You entered your bedroom, tears falling almost instantly once you were alone again. You forced yourself to strip, hanging up the pink gown to dry and setting your sparkly boots near the door. The bath felt soothing, at least, warming you to the core by the time you got out.

And there, awaiting you on your desk, was a fresh pot of the lavender and chamomile tea that you preferred for sleep.

A few extra tears fell at that small act of kindness, and you helped yourself to a still steaming cup of it, settling into the armchair that you had perpetually pulled near your window, a throw blanket across your body.

Sleep claimed you before you had even finished your second cup of tea.

🤍🤍💔🤍🤍

General Taglist: @lilah-asteria @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao

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[potchi-fics]

note: sevika being soft. made this in like 10 minutes becus i miss her.

      sevika’s pretty sure that you cast a spell on her because ain’t no way you, a nobody who owns a bakery in zaun, turns her into putty. seriously, she is baffled. how you manage to break down her walls is a wonder not only to her but to everybody. and let me tell you, she doesn’t like people. like right now, her foot slams the door to your home close, the noise signaling you that she’s home. she hangs her cape up by the hook beside the door, taking off her boots, and rolling her sore shoulders back. her gaze falls on your back, you’re doing the dishes, cleaning the pans and things you’ve used while cooking.

“you’re just in time for dinner,” you dry your hands on a towel, turning around to face her, a smile forming on your face, ���welcome home, sev.”

      her body subtly sags, but you notice it. you always do. she lazily walks to you, her tired eyes locking into yours, and you open your arms for her to fall into. you wrap your arms up around her neck, your fingers playing with the back of her baby hair, almost lulling her to sleep. in return, her human arm finds itself underneath your shirt, rubbing circles on your back.

“tired?” she nuzzles her head in the side of your neck, her breath tickling you, “let’s go eat?”

“let’s stay like this for a second, doll.” 

“okay.”

      you cherish times like these—her being softer. it’s rare, but they come by every once in a while, her job draining her to the bone. and sevika would just stay in your embrace, she doesn’t care if her legs are begging her to sit down, she doesn’t care at all. you pull away and before she can say a word, you press your soft lips on her cheek, just under her eye, and that action, that alone, almost makes her tear up.

she closes her eyes, “i don’t deserve you, doll.”

“you don’t,” you snort out jokingly, “but i’m still here.”

her eyelids flutter open, glaring at you but you know it holds no malice, “you’re supposed to say the opposite.”

“i’m only teasing,” you put both of your hands on her face, rubbing along them with your thumb, “and i think you’re the only one who deserves me anyway, you take care of me so well. who’s my good girl?”

      she gives you her infamous i’m-so-done-with-your-shit face, making you giggle and kiss her again. your kisses travel from her eyebrows, down to her mouth; pecking her lips affectionately. god, she loves you so much.

[embbarnes]

I was sooo excited to see this finished, I couldn't wait to read it. Okay, okay...here we go~

The beginning of it is so pure and sweet, I love how you include so many characters and build the dynamics and world up for the story to begin. You always do such a good job with that, and I love seeing all the details.

I also like how you took this with Logan's view, how you described others and the reactions between them were so perfect for his character. Wade and Al were hilarious, the chatter they had in the beginning was entertaining and 100% something I can see happening.

Anyway continuing below cut because I love reviewing your stuff in more detail ~

The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time. You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

The tension that builds is so well done. This one really got me into the story, I've never read one with this idea so I thought it was really interesting and fun to read. Sometimes tension is hard to build up, and with the background and characters in the beginning of the story to now and a bit later on, when the 'peak' comes, it feels so well deserves and satisfying. I'm jealous of how you do that 😭

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits – He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now. Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain. When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

UGH. This part was insane. The build Logan begins to feel is so natural here, and as it goes on you can really sense how needy and hard it is for him to handle it. Someone like him being pent up is such a fun concept.

It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.

These little tidbits of details feel so authentic and real, I adore each and every one. Just like the exposed midriff, the tiny details that add to what we already know, urging Logan's desires on and on.

During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator. It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

I'm always a sucker for ferals to use their senses and how writers include it in fics. Logan's sense of smell is insane so he would of course smell the reader's arousal. I love love that and how you described it was amazing.

“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid. “But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

Yess, FINALLY. Be bold.

He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.

Love this little detail a lot too <3

He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach. “This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

This entire bit was super hot too, the idea of this happening was sooo good. His demeanor and actions, the light teasing and slapping was just perfection. It was perfectly balanced, and I re-read this bit a few times.

“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—” “No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?” He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole. “Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

This gets overlooked a lot but I personally really, really like this part. Enough self control to ask reader if they want to stop, if everything is fine, just giving that option to stop if they wanted to. That is such a good detail and shows the depth of care. It's really refreshing each time I see something like this added in a smut fic.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath. You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss. “I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

LMAO girl-😂😭

i got it bad

logan howlett x reader (worst!logan x reader)

word count: 4.9k

summary/prompt: logan can't help that he has super hearing and overhears you - wade's seemingly sweet, shy neighbor - telling vanessa what you fantasize about doing to him. believing that you won't ever act on it, he takes matters into his own hands.

or - getting yourself off on logan's abs

warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only mdni, reader is afab, no use of y/n, logan's pov, porn with a little plot, male masturbation, teasing, nipple/breast play, some tit slaps, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, cream pie

Ever since Logan first met you, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his fucking head.

Which is really unfortunate for him, considering you seem indifferent to his existence.

Wade says that you're just an introvert, and that it takes you a while to get comfortable around new people, but after living across the hallway from you for the last few months, Logan is sure that you have no interest in him outside of simple, polite conversation whenever the two of you run into each other.

He first notices you from across the room when you enter Wade and Althea's apartment – his apartment now, too, he supposes. The small space is crowded, but you're impossible for him to overlook. He instantly recognizes you from the polaroid picture that Wade had showed him in the Void.

You’re greeted by Vanessa, who kisses you on the cheek and shoves a drink in your hand before dragging you over to where Logan is listening to Wade and Althea bicker about – what were they bickering about again? All he can focus on is the way your dress hugs your curves and the lipstick imprint that you’ve left on the champagne flute in your hand.

He needs to get out more. Go to a bar, get a job, maybe even try out one of those dating apps that Vanessa has suggested to him – something to get him out of this fucking apartment that he's stayed holed up in since arriving in this universe, because he should not be this flustered by a complete stranger.

“Earth to Peanut,” Wade snaps his fingers in front of Logan’s face. He barely processed anything Vanessa had said while she introduced you. Blah blah, neighbor, something something, lives down the hallway. “Jesus, did you get into the white powder under the floorboard? Your pupils are as big as saucers right now.”

“Oh, go easy on him, Wade,” Althea scolds. “It’s natural for pupils to dilate when looking at a pretty girl.”

The expression on your face matches how Logan feels – surprised, embarrassed, slightly mortified.

“You don't even know what she looks like. She could look like me for all you know,” Wade snorts.

“She brings me homemade cookies and she always smells good,” Al retorts. “I don't need to be able to see her to know that she's pretty.”

“Nice to meet you,” Logan finally speaks up with a forced smile. Leave it to his two roommates to make a simple introduction as awkward as possible. “And no, I am not high on cocaine,” he adds with a pointed glare at Wade.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Logan,” you return the sentiment with a chortle and shy smile. “And don’t worry, I never pay attention to anything Wade says.”

Yukio and her girlfriend with the long ass name that Logan has yet to memorize then walk up and gain your attention, leaving Logan wishing he could redo the entire interaction.

He spends the rest of the night hoping for an opportunity to talk to you again, and feeling disappointed when that doesn’t happen.

The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time.

You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

As soon as the conversation starts to venture into more personal territory, you seem to shut down. You’ll make some excuse about having somewhere to be, wish him a good day, and then you’re gone.

He can’t help himself. He sees how carefree and talkative you can be with Vanessa and hell, even Wade – and he wants that. At least then he may feel a little less crazy for spending so much of his free time racking his brain for ways to get closer to you.

Maybe it’s because it has been so long since he’s had a crush on anyone, but sometimes he thinks he might be losing his mind with how often he thinks of you – your smile, your eyes, your scent, your voice, and the way that having a five minute conversation with you always leaves him feeling for the rest of the day.

That’s why when he’s walking to his apartment one evening, and hears his name come from inside your apartment, he stops dead in his fucking tracks.

God, he knows he shouldn’t listen. He knows he should keep walking, go into his apartment and close the door.

But it’s not like he has his ear pressed up against your door. It’s not his fault that he has super hearing and that the apartment building has paper thin walls.

His brain is yelling at his feet to move but they stay planted firm right where they are.

“He thinks you don’t like him, you know,” Vanessa says. Logan doesn’t need to be able to see to know that there’s a smirk on her face.

He’s tempted to cause some kind of commotion in the hallway and then dash into his apartment, just to stop Vanessa from saying whatever the hell she’s about to say.

“Logan?” You sound appalled. “Of course I like him.”

“I know that you like him,” Vanessa chuckles. “But I can see why he would think otherwise. You act like you can barely stand to be in the same room as the guy for five minutes.”

“That’s not true.” Your voice shoots up several octaves higher than normal.

Logan sends a silent prayer to whoever the fuck is listening that no one walks down this hallway in the next few minutes and sees him standing still as a statue next to your apartment door.

“It’s not that I simply can’t stand to be in the same room as him,” you continue, lowering your voice back down to its normal volume. “It’s that being in the same room as him makes me want to jump his adamantium bones.”

For a second, he really believes that his two hundred year old heart might stop beating.

“I’m fucking pathetic around him,” you huff. “Last week, I saw him pull his t-shirt off in the laundry room to put a clean one on, and ever since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about grinding my pussy against his abs. Something is seriously wrong with me, Nes.”

But Logan doesn’t hear Vanessa’s response, because he speed walks away while she’s still cackling. By some miracle, Wade isn’t home, so Logan darts past Althea and locks himself in the bathroom.

What the fuck, Jesus Christ, and holy shit all play on a loop in his mind while he tries to ignore the bulge that has quickly formed in his jeans.

The last words he expected to hear anyone say today were jump his adamantium bones and grinding my pussy against his abs – but the fact that he heard those words come from your mouth in your sweet voice has his cock throbbing so hard that he can't think of anything other than you doing exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about.

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits –

He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now.

Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain.

When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

••••••

Logan hasn’t seen you in three days. Three days might not seem like a long time to go without seeing your neighbor, but it feels like a long fucking time for him. In fact, it’s the longest he’s gone without casually running into you since he first met you months ago.

There’s a reason for this, though – he hasn’t checked his mail in days, hasn’t taken any of his laundry down to the basement in days, and has generally tried to avoid leaving his apartment as much as he can out of fear that he’ll see you. He even went as far as to pretend to be napping when you came by with some fresh baked brownies for Althea yesterday.

He wants to see you, of course. Goddamn, does he want to see you. But after overhearing your conversation with Vanessa earlier this week, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to look you in the eye and pretend like he hasn't been making himself cum to the thought of you on top of him every time he takes a shower.

But after three days, he finds himself missing you too much to keep up his attempt at distancing himself from you.

What if he’s being ridiculous, staying cooped in this apartment to avoid you? What if you’re just down the hallway, thinking about him at the same time he’s thinking of you?

He's tidying up the kitchen when he sees the pink Tupperware container that you’d brought the brownies in yesterday sitting in the sink. The brownies were long gone – they’d all been eaten by him, Wade and Al within the same hour that you brought them over.

Taking the Tupperware back to you would be the nice, neighborly thing to do, right?

With Al already retired to her bedroom for the evening, and Wade out with Vanessa, he takes it upon himself to wash and dry the container.

It’s a Friday night, so he knows there’s a chance that you’ve got plans and might not even be home, but he still takes a few minutes to fix his hair and swipe some deodorant on before walking down the hallway towards your apartment.

As he approaches your door, he realizes that you are home. There’s light spilling from the crack at the bottom of the doorframe and he can hear low music playing inside. A mix of anxiety and anticipation sets in, but he clears his throat and knocks on your door before he can chicken out.

He hears your footsteps approaching and attempts to wipe any sign of nervousness from his face – he’s just returning your Tupperware, for Christ's sake.

“Logan,” you breathe as you open the door. “I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you greet him. He can’t help but relax at the smile that grows on your face when you realize it’s him. “What are you up to this evening?”

You lean against your doorframe, and Logan has to force himself to maintain eye contact. You’re wearing a matching pajama set – a cute pair of velvet shorts and tank top that shows more of your skin than he’s ever seen before.

“I – uh,” he stammers, holding out the Tupperware container to you. “I just thought I’d bring this back to you. They were great, by the way.”

Your smile spreads to your eyes at his compliment.

“Oh, thanks,” you beam. “I’m glad you got to have one. Wade told me that you were asleep when I came by yesterday so I figured he’d have them eaten by the time you woke up.”

“I’m sure he would have, but Al made him save one for me,” he laughs.

He tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but the fact that you look fresh out of the shower definitely isn’t fucking helping. Bare faced with the scent of your body wash and lotion on your skin, his thoughts begin to stray into dangerous territory fast.

“I don’t wanna interrupt your night, though. I’ll let you get back to—”

“You’re not,” you say quickly as he begins to step backwards. “You're not interrupting. Are you doing anything tonight? I just ordered a pizza and there’s plenty. I was gonna watch a movie, if you want…” You trail off, glancing back and forth between him and your apartment behind you.

He can't help but notice that your voice sounds hopeful.

The invitation excites him more than he cares to admit. Sure, the two of you have hung out plenty of times, but it's always been in a group setting – at one of Wade’s get togethers or movie nights, surrounded by other friends.

But never just the two of you – definitely never in your apartment.

He could never think of saying no to you. Especially not when this is what he's been hoping for since he first me you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that.”

You hold the door open for him, letting him enter your apartment. Right away, he notices how different it is from the one that he lives in. Then again, there’s three people cramped into Althea’s – you're the only person who lives here, so you're able to make it entirely your own.

It’s cute, and cozy, he thinks. From your furniture adorned with throw pillows and blankets, to all of your shelves stocked with books, knick-knacks and candles, to the various plants occupying space throughout the living room, it feels endearing and welcoming right away.

“So, where’s Wade at tonight?” you ask as he ventures into the living room. He notes a large cardboard box with an untouched pizza in it on your coffee table. His stomach growls at the sight, and it hits him that he actually is fucking starving.

“He’s out with Vanessa. Fourth time this week,” he answers, turning to find you retrieving two plates from a cabinet in your kitchen. You're angled away from him, and when you raise your arms to grab the plates, your tank top lifts enough to give him a clear view of your midriff. He quickly averts his gaze, pretending to find something on your bookshelf particularly interesting.

“I’m just really glad that they’ve worked through things and seem to be happy now,” you sigh. “He wasn’t in a good place after their breakup. Barely ever left his apartment for the longest time.”

“They’ve got something special, that’s for sure,” Logan agrees.

You hand him a plate, walking past him to your couch. You toss some of the decorative throw pillows to your recliner, making room for him on the sofa. You pat the empty space beside you, an invitation for him to make himself at home.

“Who knows, maybe they'll even get their own place soon and I won’t have to share the living room with him anymore,” he says as he sits down beside you.

It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.

“Sounds like you just want Blind Al and Mary Puppins all to yourself,” you tease. You hand him a piece of pizza and close the box before propping your feet up on the table. You lean back, looking at him with a smirk and raised brows.

“If he moves, that dog is going with him and you know it. There’s no way he’d leave her behind,” he shakes his head.

“There’s no way Althea would let him take her. She's grown to be as attached to her as Wade is. I think even you like her more than you care to admit.”

“What can I say? She has a way of weaseling herself into your heart,” Logan sighs.

“Oh, it’s definitely the tongue,” you shrug through a bite of pizza.

Logan grimaces as a vivid image of Mary Puppins French kissing Wade awake flashes through his mind, but he can't help but laugh.

You turn on some action-comedy that Logan has never heard of, and the two of you eat and take turns making comments about whatever is happening on the screen for the first half of the movie.

He tries to stay focused on the film, he really does, but every now and then you readjust your position on the couch, causing him to catch a whiff of your perfume or your thigh will brush against his and he'll have to force his attention back to the characters on the screen.

No matter how distracting he may find your mere presence beside him, he's enjoying himself. This is by far the longest the two of you have hung out together, without the additions of his roommates and other friends. He dreads the moment that the movie ends and he’s obligated to tell you goodnight before reluctantly going back to his own apartment.

During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator.

It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

When you sit back down beside him, the sweet smell washes over him again and he bites the inside of his lip so hard that he tastes blood. The wound disappears as quickly as it’s formed, but the same can’t be said for the erection that begins to strain against the confines of his boxers.

He eyes the pile of small, decorative pillows that you had tossed to the side and wishes that he could grab one to place over his lap.

The words that you’d said to Vanessa a few days ago begin replaying in his mind for the thousandth time since he’d first heard you say them, reminding him this isn’t one-sided. He may be sitting here attempting to conceal a raging hard-on by shifting his position and subtly adjusting his pants, but Logan’s heightened sense of smell tells him that your underwear are probably starting to feel as uncomfortable as his do at the moment.

Without turning his head, he risks a glance at you. Your eyes are on the movie, and your face is neutral, but your posture gives you away. Your arms are crossed over your chest, the tips of your fingernails digging tiny crescent shaped indentations into the flesh of your upper arm. You have one of your thighs crossed over the other, locked together tightly but that doesn’t stop him from being able to smell how fucking wet you are.

“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid.

“But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

You turn to him, your eyebrows quirked but your face otherwise impassive.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. What exactly is it that you’d like to hear me say?” you ask innocently. You give him doe eyes that make his cock finish filling with blood.

He huffs a laugh, picking up on the way that your heartrate accelerates when you look at him.

“I'd like to hear you say what you said to Vanessa a few days ago,” he hums. “I can’t remember exactly, but I think it had something to do with you rubbing your sweet little cunt on my abs. Does that sound familiar to you?”

“Hm,” you feign contemplation. “That doesn’t really sound like something I'd say.”

He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.

“You’re right. It doesn't sound like something you’d say,” he snorts, and leans in so that your face is just a few inches from his. “So imagine my surprise when I walked by your apartment to hear you talking about jumping my adamantium bones.”

He doesn't miss the way your breath catches in your throat or how your eyes flicker to his lips.

“You gonna do it? Or you just gonna keep thinking about it while you're sitting beside me?”

For a second, you say nothing and Logan struggles to read your expression. Then, without taking your eyes off of him, you slowly stand in front of the couch. You reach for the hem of your tank top and pull it over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up.

Logan's mouth goes dry. Suddenly, he's all out of smart remarks.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your pajama shorts, pushing them down your thighs along with your panties, and let them both drop to your feet all while holding his gaze.

With you now stark naked before him, he leans forward, grasping you by the backs of your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. You straddle him, gently pushing him back against the sofa.

He tugs his own shirt over his head while you undo his belt buckle and pop open the top button of his jeans, your hands fumbling when he sheds his shirt.

Logan doesn’t typically think too much about his physical appearance. He knows he’s in good shape, and thinks he’s conventionally attractive enough. But he could see himself getting a bit of an ego, if he had someone looking at him the way you are right now on a regular basis.

You help him shimmy his jeans and boxers down far enough for his cock to spring free. You take him in your hand, using your thumb to smear the thick bead of pre-cum across the head.

“You should be careful listening to people’s conversations outside of their doors,” you hum as you pump him in one hand. You hunch over, lowering your mouth enough to spit down his shaft, lubricating the length. You smirk, glancing up at him from beneath your thick eyelashes. “Other people might not react as happily as me.”

Fuck, he knows it’s been a long time since he's even felt anyone’s hands on him, but he feels a little pathetic at the way his balls are already tightening and feeling so heavy just from the way you’re languidly stroking him.

And as much as he’d love for you to keep your hands on him, there’s time for him later. Right now, what he wants more than anything is the feeling of your pussy on him.

He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach.

“This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

His words seem to erase any remaining reservation that you may have had. You brace your hands on his chest and begin dragging your center across his lower stomach, your slick coating the thick trail of hair that goes from his belly button to his waistline. With every backstroke, the head of his cock juts against your ass.

You glide across him easily. Soft, wet, and warm, Logan thinks that if you feel this good on his fucking stomach then there’s no way he’ll be able to handle being inside you.

He leans his head forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. You hold his head in your hands, tugging on his hair with your fingers as he teases your nipple with his tongue and teeth.

He pulls his mouth away from your breast with a wet pop. “You like this? Using me to get yourself off?”

“Mm-hmm,” you nod frantically, your answer coming out as a moan. He gives a quick, firm slap to your other breast. Judging by the sound it draws from you, you like it, so he does it again.

He'd pictured this exact scenario a shameful number of times in the last few days, but his thoughts hadn’t done you justice. Every little noise you make, every little whimper and moan as your clit brushes against the thick bulges of his muscles again and again, sounds sweeter than he could've dreamed.

He places his hands on the meat of your hips, guiding you forwards and backwards across his abdomen at a fast pace.

“Fuck,” you gasp, clenching your thighs around him as tight as you can. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum—”

“That’s right,” he coos. “Come on, cum on me.”

You dig your fingernails into his shoulders, drenching the hair on his stomach as you ride out your orgasm on him with a cry of his name.

You collapse against his chest, going still with your face in the crook of his neck as you steady your breathing.

“Look at me,” he whispers after a moment. It hits him that despite the fact that you just humped him until you came all over his abdomen, he somehow hasn’t even kissed you yet.

You pull away from his neck, looking down at him with a dazed expression. He brings your face to his mouth by the back of your neck. He wastes no more time, instantly slipping his tongue past your lips.

He holds you by the globes of your ass, which hovers just above his erection. You grind down, causing the tip of his cock to nudge against your entrance. He groans into your mouth, his cock past the point of feeling like it’s going to explode if he doesn’t fucking feel you.

“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—”

“No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?”

He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole.

“Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

You sink down onto him at the same moment that he tilts his hips up enough to slip inside you, causing the entirety of his length to fill you at once.

You both go still, adjusting to the new sensation of each other. Your walls, velvet soft and so warm, constrict around him like a vice. He knows you’re likely tired from riding him through your first orgasm, so he begins thrusting his hips slowly, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.

“You’re big. So, so big,” you moan – something between a whine and a praise.

“I know, but you’re doing so good, honey,” he encourages as he eases himself in and out of you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You latch your lips to his again, and it’s hard for him to hold back. The feeling of your tight, perfect cunt around him and the taste of your tongue in his mouth is overwhelming. He wants to memorize every movement, every sound you make.

You snake your hand between your bodies, your fingertips finding your swollen clit and massaging languid circles. He feels you flutter around him as you start meeting his thrusts with movements of your own, and he knows you’re close.

“Not gonna last much longer, honey,” he grunts with a sharp thrust. “Feel too fucking good.”

“Cum with me,” you murmur against his mouth.

Your command causes something in him to snap. He releases a throaty growl, pistoning his hips upwards at a harsh pace as he fills you up from below. You constrict around him, crying his name into his ear as you ride out your climaxes together.

You collapse against his chest once more, his cock still nestled inside you. He loses track of how long the two of you stay like that, neither of you wanting to be the first to move.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath.

You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss.

“I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

thank you so much for reading <3 comments and reblogs are super appreciated. here are a few more of my favorite logan pieces that i've written ✨️

for always and ever is always for you - old man logan x healer reader

diet pepsi - old man logan x reader limousine sex

lavender and velvet - worst variant logan x neighbor reader

[softspokendove]

"Good Job Sweetheart"

pairings: bf!matt sturniolo x nerdy!reader

summary: matt decides to make his girlfriend feel good after she shows him she got an A+ on a test.

warnings: smut, blowjob f!receiving, nicknames (sweetheart, baby), fingering, praise kink, teasing, begging, reader is a bit shy and easy flustered, a little bit of overstimulation towards the end.

As you run through your boyfriend's house, completely oblivious to his two brothers watching tv in the living room, you speed past them and down the hallway towards your shared bedroom door. Your boyfriend's head shoots up at you excitedly pushing open the door and you run over jumping on top of him.

"I did it Matt! I aced the exam!" Matt furrows his eyebrows; his brain still hasn't caught up to speed. Instead, you push the exam paper in his hands, helping him figure it out. As his eyes scan over the page and the big letter A at the top of it a smile spreads on his face.

"Good job sweetheart, I knew you could do it." He sets down the paper on his side table and cups your face with both of his hands. He leans in giving you a passionate kiss in hopes of showing his approval. As he pulls back, he gives your now flushed face a once over, "So all that studying really paid off huh?"

You smile and nod your head as a response. You've been studying for endless nights trying to prepare for this exam, which your mind kept constantly telling you were gonna fail. Your boyfriend who knows how important school is to you, even tried to help you prepare. This consisted of you and Matt in the living room until 3 am reading post it cards until you soon fell asleep on his lap, completely exhausted.

You appreciated this about Matt. He knew how important this is to you, so he took time out of his day to help. He's never once complained about how much time you spend studying, if anything he just asks if you can do it in your shared bedroom so he can be near you.

"I'm so proud of you baby." Matt's words cause you to practically melt in his grasp. Matt knows all about how much you love receiving praise towards your accomplishments, especially from him. He finds it adorable how easily flustered and red you can get from it.

"Thank you." You smile once more at him before trying to get up off his lap, instead Matt's hands move to your hips and force you back down.

"How about I give you a reward for all your hard work?" He says it as a question.

"Like what?" Your obliviousness makes Matt smirk, and he leans towards you once again this time leaving small kisses along your neck. You gasp at the newfound sensation and subconsciously lean your head to the side to give him better access. Matt applies more pressure on his kisses, his hands roaming the sides of your body.

"You did so good on your test baby, you deserve to feel just as good." As his lips continue to attack your neck, your mind starts to become consumed by Matt and what he's doing. His hand wonders from your side down to your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. You feel a sense of need gather lower and lower, causing you to softly grind on Matt's growing bulge in his pants.

"We can't. It'll be too loud." Your words come out breathless as you keep grinding on Matt, nowhere close to stopping. Matt knows that you're talking about his brothers being close to the other side of the wall, and your record of screaming while Matt has his way with you.

"Then you'll have to be quiet, can you do that for me?" Matt pulls away and looks you dead in eye, you're hesitant for a few seconds and then nod your head. A huge part of you knows that you can't keep quiet with Matt, it's impossible. But he already feels so good you don't want to end here. "That's my girl." Matt gives you one more appreciative kiss before setting you flat against the bed. He gets up to walk over to the door, closing and locking it.

As he returns, he climbs over you nudging your legs open with his knee to give him room. His lips connect with yours again, the kiss filled with love and passion. Matt's knee comes up and pushes against your clit, making you moan into his mouth. He swallows up your noises and slips his tongue into you. His tongue dancing with yours, both of your saliva's mixing up and creating a mess. His hand tilts your head to the side allowing him a better angle.

When he finally pulls away, you're both gasping for air. "Arms up." You lift up your arms and feel the warmth of your shirt leave your body as Matt throws the clothing across the room. He kisses a trail from your neck down to your boobs, leaving small bites here and there. His one hand lifts up your lower body as his other hand slides below you and unclasps your bra, this also getting thrown.

Matt takes one of your nipples into his mouth and sucks, swirling his tongue around the nub. He rubs your other boob in an effort to give them the same attention. Once he feels satisfied with one nipple he moves on to the other one, doing the same with his mouth. Your hand finds its way into his hair and gives a small tug which brings Matt to moan against you.

He lets go of your nipple with a pop and starts kissing your body again, this time getting lower and lower. You squirm in anticipation and whine, desperately needing Matt to touch you there. "Easy baby, this is all about you. I promise to make you feel good."

His words lead to another whine escaping your throat, "Matt please."

"Please what baby?" His tone is teasing. He knows what you want, he just loves hearing you say it.

"You know what." You huff out. This makes Matt chuckle and start to slide your pants slowly down your legs, too slowly for your liking.

"No, I don't think I do. Let me hear you say it." After your pants are completely gone from your body, you spread your legs wider for him, hoping he'd get the hint. Your cheeks red from embarrassment. Instead of understanding, Matt just slides his hands up and down your thighs. Inching so close to where you need him then quickly retreating.

You feel tears start to prick your eyes as the need for him becomes too much. Your whole-body craving Matt. Needing him to touch you anywhere and everywhere. Your pussy leaking out more slick just thinking about him. That proven to be true when Matt notices a dark patch on your panties, his mouth watering at the sight. "Please touch me," You reach out for one of Matt's hands and place it on the wet spot, "here. I need you so bad. Please."

Your words go straight to Matt's cock causing it to throb in his pants. There's just something about listening to you beg for him. Your words are like honey to his ears. "There you go baby; you sound so good." He leans down and places kisses on your clit, the action making your hips rise towards his mouth. His lips getting wet from your need.

He grabs your panties and slides them down your body, dropping them onto the floor. He places a hand on your hip holding you firmly in place. "You gotta be quiet, okay?"

"I promise." The words leave your mouth in a hurry, hoping to get him to work faster. He kisses your clit again, this time without a layer of clothing to get in the way. The new feeling making you grip onto his hair again.

He slides his tongue down your folds and then back up. His saliva and tongue feeling blissful against your pussy. He moans at the taste of you and slips his tongue inside your hole, hoping to taste more. This catches you by surprise and a small moan leaves your throat, you see Matt raise his eyebrows at you, warning you to stay true to your promise.

He swirls his tongue around inside of you, once again moaning at the flavor of you, his noises getting muffled against you. You hear the small noise of Matt's tongue gliding in your juices and the sound of him slurping as much as he can up. He takes his tongue out and slides it back up your pussy before swirling around your clit.

His lips then attach to your clit and suck while his tongue swirls in a circle around it. You bite your bottom lip trying to silent your moans. Matt's hand squeezes your flesh on your thigh and then moves his hand to your pussy. His middle finger circles around your clit, teasing you. You try to raise your hips to get it inside of you, but Matt's hand doesn't let you budge.

After Matt feels he's teased you enough he enters his finger into you at a slow pace. You sigh in relief his fingers start moving back and forth at a good pace. The pleasure you've been searching for finally here. You start to feel a sudden need to hold on to something-anything. One of your hands grips onto Matt's hair while the other holds onto the sheets, knuckles turning white from how hard you're gripping. Matt moans again at feeling a tug on his strands of hair, the noise vibrating against your pussy making it flutter.

This spurs Matt on, him feeling your pussy throb and tighten against him. His finger increases its pace, your juices starting to drip down you and onto the sheets. The overwhelming pleasure raking up your body and getting stuck in your throat, your moans and whimpers desperately wanting to get out.

It doesn't help when Matt adds his ring finger, filling you up. Your walls clench around his fingers, your body getting closer and closer. You move your hand that was gripping the sheets towards your mouth and try to muffle your moans with your hand.

The core in your lower belly keeps tightening. "Matt, I'm gonna cum." The words sound muffled, but Matt knew what you said. You look down and see Matt's blue eyes staring right back at yours, this being his favorite view. Your clit throbs in Matt's mouth at the sight.

Matt's tongue starts swirling letters, his name. You feel the motion of his tongue form the letters M-A-T-T and then repeating. Your eyes roll back into your head as your legs tighten around Matt's head. "Come on baby, cum on my tongue." Matt's voice sending you over the edge.

You scream into your hand as the bubble finally explodes, your walls throbbing around Matt's fingers. He removes his fingers from inside you and brings them up towards your mouth. You take away your hand and suck around his digits, tasting the proof of your beautiful orgasm. Matt hums in satisfaction as his tongue reenters inside of you tasting your cum for himself.

Your hips jerk in oversensitivity as his tongue continues to wiggle around inside your walls. "Matt too much." You try to move away but his hand pulls you right back. He ignores your comment and shoves his fingers further down your mouth towards your throat, igniting a gag from you.

When he pulls his fingers out, they're covered in your salvia which is then returned inside of you when Matt lifts his head up. "Give me one more sweetheart, wanna make sure you feel as good as you should."

You go to protest, but Matt just dives back down to your pussy, leaving no room for arguing.

a/n: holy. I had all of this written out a week ago but the last couple sentences. It took me so long to finish this for what.

[ifwebefriends]

Sinsmas thoughts (MAJOR SPOILERS)

BLITZZZZZZZZZ WHY DO YOU LOVE THE HORSES??????????

OMGGGGGGG THE EGGS THING

STOLAS AND BLITZ DOMESTIC MOMENTS OMGGGGGGGGG IM DEAD

Stolas and Blitz were just so cute this whole episode I’m dead

THE MONTAGE AWWWWWW

NOOOOOO STOLAS NEEDS HIS XANS

Stolas was just fun and iconic this whole episode fr

Okay Sinsmas is iconic I’m glad they explained what it is lol

STOLAS BEING SCARED BY MOX AND MIL FIGHTING OMGGGGGGGG

BLITZ CHEERING ON STOLAS AT THE PHONE WAS SO FUCKING SWEET AND FUNNY IM CRYING 😭

That homophobic client made me want to kill her I’m glad they threw her out the window later

That being said I wonder how she died? She had wooden antlers maybe a tree fell on her?????????? It doesn’t seem like the ex husband had anything to do with it

NOOOO STOLAS NEVER KILL YOURSELF YOU DESERVE TO LIVE YOU NEED YOUR XANS

No but actually AS SOON as Millie threw up and it WASN’T a “getting sick from all the joy and jolly” joke I knew she was pregananant

It’s so touching how Blitz decided not to kill the family very reminiscent of episode 1 and emblematic of his development

THIS EPISODE JUST PUNCHED ME IN THE GUT OVER AND OVER

No but Stella and Andralphus’ laughs made me want to murder them fr

No but I CANNOT actually believe that we were right about the Stolas secretary thing good work chat

NOOOOOOOO STOLAS PLANT GONE 🥲

Octavia’s song was so good!!!!!!! But so heartbreaking

THE PANO SHOT DURING VIA’S SONG IM FLOORED

“IM POOR NOW” OMGGGGGGGGGGG STOLAS 🤣🤣🤣

STOLAS HAVING A MELTDOWN BEFORE SEEING VIA

YES STOLAS BEAT ANDREPHUS’ ASSSSSSSSS

OMG BLITZ RISKING HIS LIFE FOR STOLAS

LOONA UPGRADE???????? HOW?????? WHY???????

The animation on that fight was incredible

Omgggggggg Octavia and Stolas’ conversation was heartbreaking

STOLAS’ SOBS WHEN VIA WENT AWAY BREAKS MY HEART

As someone who’s parents divorced when I was a teen I deeply respect and admire Stolas’ apprehension to talk about how shitty Stella was to Via but I also feel like that would clear a lot of things up so oooooooooooooo I’m so conflicted

Yeah I think they both need time to think and hopefully Via understands someday

Okay but I’m so glad that Loona has her own friends I’m so happy for her

Omg Millie called Sallie May about her pregnancy 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Not but when I saw the drinks get pulled out I hugely expected to see a reaction from Millie but whatever

Omgggg Blitz talking about his sister maybe they’ll make up next season 🥺

no but actually I kinda love that the episode ended with them dancing and hugging instead of kissing that’s a bold iconic move love it no notes

No but I’m actually so anxious for Millie girl do whatever you need to do but please talk to Moxxie I’m sure he’ll be on board with whatever

No but I didn’t anticipate the pregnancy that was COMPLETELY out of left field and that kinda hit me more than the stolitz moments did (I lowkey have Tokophobia so that’s probably why)

This is so interesting because we’re about to go into a season that probably focuses on parent-child relationships and whatever Millie decides will be an interesting part of that theme

Yeah I have no idea where they’re going to take this

I’d be pleasantly surprised if they go the abortion route it feels like shows never do that but I feel like more shows should and I think Viv is bold enough to go that path

Incredible episode great season finale can’t wait for more 10/10!!!!!!

[misshoneyimhome]

Since it’s Christmas season, Inexperienced reader felt like being a brat and wanted to test William’s patience with Alex living with them and family coming to visit she decided she wanted to be on the naughty list. She decided her to leave her panties and little pictures of herself and leave in his suite case, car, and his space in the locker room to remind him what’s he’s missing after she’s his good girl but sometimes she’s needs a reminder who’s in charge.

Happy holidays, love! 🥰

To be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure how this piece would turn out, but I decided to just go with the flow 🙈🎄 Because, of course, Inexperienced!reader and Willy deserve both a loving and slightly naughty Christmas 😘💋

I hope you enjoy this little chapter, and once again, happy holidays to everyone! Sending you all lots of love ❤️

Tropes & warnings: 18+ smut, Inexperienced!reader x Willy, naughty photoshoot, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, sex toy (magic wand), unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside

Word count: 3.8K

➼｡ﾟ

A Nonsense Christmas I Inexperienced!reader x Willy

The sound of holiday classics drifted softly through the apartment as you straightened a sprig of mistletoe over the kitchen threshold. Outside, snow dusted the city, blanketing everything in a hush. Inside, fairy lights twinkled, gifts waited under the tree, and the scent of cinnamon and pine wafted through every room. It was Christmas season—cosy, lovely, and oh so warm. But beneath all that sugary sweetness, you’d decided to stir up something a little spicy.

You’d caught wind of his photoshoot—William’s—just last week. A sleek magazine spread had left your cheeks warm, your heart fluttering, cunt dripping, and a wicked little idea forming in your mind. After over a year together, this was your chance to be a holiday tease, to see what happened when you tested William’s patience in your own cheeky, festive way. You wanted to be his good girl, truly you did, but sometimes a holiday needed a little naughtiness to make it truly memorable.

The apartment you shared with William was a merry chaos this December. Family was due to arrive in a few days—parents, siblings, a few cousins—and Alex, his brother, was already living with you both for a while. The space was full of laughter, good food, and the comfortable bustle of the holidays. But it also meant privacy was scarce, and that made your plan all the more thrilling. If William wanted to stay calm and collected, well, you were about to see just how far you could push him.

You started small. The first surprise was a pair of delicate, lacy red panties, tucked subtly into his training bag before he left for practice. When he opened it to grab a spare hoodie, he’d find that little gift waiting, a silent, provocative message. You imagined his face—slightly flushed, brows raised, that crooked smirk tugging at his lips—wondering what you were up to.

Later that afternoon, while he was gone, you dressed up in a dark green satin robe trimmed with faux white fur at the collar—festive, yet undeniably sensual. Underneath, the lingerie set you’d chosen—a daring dark red number—hugged your curves. You adjusted your phone’s timer and took a few playful selfies in front of the Christmas tree: a suggestive tilt of your hips, a knowing smile, the twinkle of lights across your bare skin. These photos were just for him. The playlist on your phone danced through holiday tunes, and right then, “A Nonsense Christmas” hummed softly, the silly, flirtatious lyrics fuelling your courage. If William’s shoot had inspired you, your own was going to leave him speechless.

You picked the best snapshot, printed it out, and placed it in a tiny envelope adorned with a candy cane sticker. That evening, when you knew he’d head out to his car to pick up Alex from wherever he’d wandered off to, he’d find that photo carefully slipped inside the glove compartment, waiting like a secret treat.

And you didn’t stop there. The next morning, while humming under your breath and sipping cocoa, you snuck into the closet where his game day suit hung. His locker room routine was sacred and placing another little Polaroid—and a pair of black lace panties—tucked inside his jacket pocket would guarantee that when he got to the match, he’d have a reminder of exactly what he was missing at home. It was risky, but that was the point. You wanted him thinking about you while trying to keep a straight face around the guys. Would he blush? Would he grin? You could almost see him pressing his lips together to hide a smirk as he discovered your latest surprise.

By the time the evening rolled around, you’d delivered those three gifts—training bag, car, and suit jacket—and you knew William’s patience was fraying beautifully. His texts had become peppered with suggestive hints and thinly veiled threats like, “Just wait until we’re alone, älskling,” and, “You’re playing with fire.” And when he came home after the third discovery, you caught a glimpse of something dark and wanting in his gaze before Alex burst in from the kitchen, cheerfully oblivious.

That night, after Alex yawned and went to his room, you found yourself finally alone with William in the dim glow of the Christmas tree’s lights in the living room. Your heart fluttered when he approached you, every step controlled, his eyes locked onto yours.

“What,” he asked softly, voice dripping with amusement and frustration, “do you think you’re doing?”

You batted your lashes, feigning innocence. “Spreading holiday cheer?” you offered sweetly. You were again in that festive robe, tied just loosely enough that he could see the barest hint of something lacy beneath. You watched his gaze drop there, then return to your face, a slow grin forming.

“You’re testing me, aren’t you?” he said, his voice low, his accent more pronounced than usual. “First my bag, then the car, and now… the game day suit, really?” His tone was incredulous, but also thrilled. He loved this side of you, the secret part of you that dared to be bold for him.

You shrugged, lips curving. “Just wanted you to remember who you’re coming home to. Maybe I wanted to make sure you keep your head in the game. Maybe I wanted to imagine how you’d look trying not to blush in front of your teammates.”

He stepped closer, catching your chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. “You’ve been very naughty,” he murmured, and heat pooled in your belly. “Leaving your panties and pictures everywhere—did you think I wouldn’t take my time teaching you a lesson when we’re finally alone?”

Your breath caught, words momentarily failing you. This was exactly what you wanted: the push and pull, the playful tension, the promise of a delightful punishment for your mischief. You arched a brow, still holding onto that last shred of bravado. “Who says I don’t like lessons?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, and placed a firm hand on your waist, pulling you flush against him. “I guess we’ll find out.” His breath was warm against your neck as he leaned in, trailing the faintest of kisses along your jaw. “You know what happens to brats at Christmas, don’t you?”

Your heart pounded. “They get coal?” you teased, grinning.

A wicked glint appeared in his eyes. “Oh, you’ll get something better than coal,” he promised softly. “I’m going to remind you exactly who’s in charge here.”

The surge of heat and excitement that washed over you was undeniable. You were craving this; the rush of his reaction, the tender but authoritative way he planned to show you your place in the best possible way. You had learned quickly how to push his buttons—and how gladly he would answer.

Slowly, he guided you further into the shadowed intimacy of the living room, the soft glow of the Christmas tree casting flickering patterns across his face. The faint scent of pine and cinnamon lingered in the air, but all you could really focus on was him—his steady grip on your waist, his breath warm against your skin, the way he commanded the space without even trying.

“Better than coal, huh?” you murmured, trying to keep a hint of that playful confidence, your hands steadying yourself against his chest. Your voice sounded breathier than you intended, your pulse thrumming in your ears.

His fingers toyed with the edge of your robe’s sash, knuckles grazing your belly. “Oh, much better,” he assured you, words rolling out in that low, accented purr that made your toes curl. “You’ve been pushing me, älskling. Leaving me those little surprises—in front of my teammates…” His tone turned wry. “Do you know how hard it was to keep a straight face in front of the guys? Making sure they weren’t looking over my shoulder…”

A shiver danced along your spine as you imagined him discovering your naughty gifts, struggling to hide his reaction. The thrill of it surged inside you again. “I just wanted to keep you on your toes,” you said softly, tilting your head back as his body pressed closer.

He hummed, and the sound vibrated through you. “You wanted to fucking taunt me,” he murmured, slipping one finger under the robe’s tie, pulling it loose with languid precision. “To see what I’d do when you kept teasing, kept tempting, kept acting like a brat…” He paused, the robe falling open just enough to show the lacy lingerie underneath. His gaze darkened as it swept over what you’d chosen—something festive, black, so very sheer. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You swallowed, your breath catching as his fingers skimmed along the curve of your breast, just above the lace. “Maybe,” you whispered. “Depends on what you have planned.”

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending another rush of heat through your veins. “Such a brave little thing,” he said, tilting your chin up again so that your eyes met his. “Don’t worry. I won’t disappoint you.”

In that gentle light, he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a slow, claiming kiss. His hand slipped lower, curling over your hip, drawing you against his body so you could feel exactly how much your antics had affected him. You gasped into his mouth when he pressed closer, the friction making your head spin, as your hands instinctively grabbed his shoulders.

“Since you wanted to show me what I’m missing,” he murmured between kisses, “it’s only fair I return the favour—show you just what happens when you push me too far.” His breath was hot against your ear now, his voice a low rumble that made your knees weaken. “We have all night. Which means I can take my time.” He let that sink in before trailing his lips along your jaw, down your neck, making you arch into him.

You were trembling, caught somewhere between daring him on and melting under his touch. Your bravado faltered as his hand trailed upward along your thigh, slipping beneath the silky robe to explore the lace edges of your lingerie. Every subtle shift of his body, every quiet hum of approval, reminded you that you were no longer in control—if you ever really had been. You’d handed over the reins the moment you decided to test his patience.

He coaxed your legs apart just enough so he could press closer, each subtle movement deliberate and sure. “So,” he said, voice low, “do you think you’ll be leaving little presents like that again without expecting payback?”

Your heart fluttered wildly as you remembered the naughty photos, the panties hidden away. You thought of his flushed cheeks when he found them, the way he must have scolded himself silently, waiting until the moment he could have you alone like this. “I—” You tried to form a witty comeback, but all that came out was a shaky breath and a quiet moan as he skimmed his fingers lightly against the lace covering your core.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to see your face. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction and something warmer—affection, pride, maybe even amusement at how easily he had unravelled you. “That’s what I thought,” he said softly. His thumb stroked over your hipbone, soothing and possessive all at once. “You’re mine tonight, älskling. All mine. And I’m going to make sure you remember exactly what that means.”

He claimed your mouth again, this time deeper, hungrier. The kiss tugged you into a haze of sensation, each slide of his tongue coaxing you away from any clever remark you might have made. A small shrug of his shoulder and your robe slipped free, floating to the floor. William’s soft, appreciating groan told you he enjoyed the view you’d curated just for him—festive, tempting, and just a touch bratty.

Without a word, he then hooked an arm under your thighs and another around your back, lifting you effortlessly. The room spun briefly as he carried you into the bedroom, and in the gentle glow of the holiday lights from down the hall, he tossed you onto the bed. The mattress dipped under your weight, springs sighing softly.

He surveyed you with hungry eyes, your chosen lingerie swiftly becoming a tattered memory scattered on the floor. The lace he’d just ripped away lay abandoned, and you could feel your pulse hammering at the base of your throat, both shocked and thrilled by his boldness. The way he’d smirked, the way he’d said “Oops” without an ounce of regret—it all sent a delicious shiver down your spine. He was completely unapologetic, and that made your stomach flip with excitement.

“Don’t worry, I’ll replace it,” he promised, voice rich and low, like he was thinking of all the ways he could compensate you—maybe with something even skimpier, more luxurious.

Your cheeks warmed at the thought, heart racing as you realised, he was already plotting future moments like this one. His fingers slid over your exposed skin, his touch deliberate and slow, a calculated assault on your senses. His knuckles grazed over your stomach, then dipped along your ribs, brushing the underside of your breast so lightly it made you arch for more. He never rushed, never forced, but he knew exactly where and how to touch you until you were squirming, trying to keep quiet with Alex asleep just down the hall.

The tension of maintaining silence only heightened your arousal. Every time you let out a stifled moan, William’s smirk deepened, satisfied with your struggle. He was taking pleasure in this secret game—knowing he had you at his mercy, that you had no choice but to stifle your cries into the pillows. The illicit thrill of it all tingled through your veins.

When his kisses trailed down your abdomen, each press of his lips and rasp of stubble sending sparks skittering along your nerves, you struggled to keep your breathing steady. He paused at your hipbone, letting his warm breath fan over that sensitive spot, before moving lower. The anticipation tightened in your chest, and when his mouth finally found the slick, heated place between your thighs, you nearly bit through your bottom lip.

He was merciless in the best way—gentle yet relentless, circling your clit with agonizing precision, his tongue working in tandem with a deft finger that simultaneously curled inside you. Your entire body sang with tension, thighs trembling as you tried desperately not to cry out. He played you like an instrument, each lick and stroke tuned to your soft gasps and whimpers. The orgasm built so quickly it shocked you, pleasure cresting like a sudden, rolling wave you couldn’t outrun. You pulled the pillow to cover your face, burying yourself into it and muffling the sharp, desperate sound that escaped as you came. William groaned appreciatively, the vibration making you shudder as you rode out the pulses of ecstasy, gripping the sheets for some sense of grounding.

When he pulled away, your thighs still shook, your breath choppy. A soft whimper of protest escaped you at the loss, and he just chuckled under his breath. It was a dark, amused sound, as if he’d barely begun to play with you and had so much more in store.

So, naturally, he reached over to the bedside table, retrieving something you hadn’t expected tonight—the good old magic wand. Your eyes went wide at the sight of it, fear and excitement tangling in your chest as you realised how easily he could push you over the edge again. Your mouth opened, a little plea escaping before you could stop it.

And he answered you only by pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, an almost tender gesture, before turning on the toy. The soft hum filled your ears, as he moved it to your swollen, sensitive clit. You jerked at the contact; the wand’s vibrations already too intense after your first orgasm.

William kept going, though, eyes fixed on your face as you buried it into the pillow again, desperate to stay quiet. The sensation soared through you at dizzying speed, and in what felt like seconds, another release claimed you—this one sharper, more demanding. You clenched around nothing, toes curling tight, a muffled cry caught in your throat as you came once more. The sheets beneath you were soaked, and you knew it only spurred William on.

As you breathed out heavily, William finally set the wand aside, looking smug as ever, while you tried to catch your breath. Your body hummed with aftershocks, limbs heavy and pliant.

Now it was his turn. As he practically tore and tossed his own clothes aside, your eyes followed down to the bulge straining against his boxers, his desire evident. He stood at the foot of the bed and shed the last bit of fabric in one fluid motion, his cock standing hard and flushed, ready for you. But you knew he wouldn’t just hand it over. He wanted you to work for it—wanted to see that you were just as eager to please him as he was to break your composure.

“Come here,” he said softly, voice holding that firm edge that made your stomach tighten. Still trembling, you moved onto all fours, grateful your arms held you steady after those two overwhelming climaxes. He guided you with a gentle hand in your hair, bringing you close to him.

And instinctively, you opened, hollowed your cheeks and welcomed him into your mouth, determined to make him lose some of that smug control. He groaned low in his throat when you swirled your tongue just right, and you felt a surge of pride at the sound. Each muffled hiss of pleasure was a victory, proof that you could unravel him too.

“Good girl,” he praised, voice roughened by pleasure. That phrase sent warmth spilling through you, made your heart flutter. You knew he loved having you like this, compliant and dedicated, yet still carrying that spark of mischief that had started this whole game.

But then, with a gentle push, he instructed you to turn around, urging you to press your cheek into the pillow, your knees sinking into the mattress as you raised your ass for him. The anticipation was maddening. He knelt behind you, one large hand on your hip, the other skimming down your spine. You let out a quiet gasp when he brushed his thumb over you other entrance, just a hint of pressure that made you whimper. He didn’t push further, only reminding you who held all the cards.

Then, finally, he filled you up with a powerful thrust, claiming you with a sure, steady movement. The fullness made you moan softly, muffled by the pillow. He set a slow rhythm; each inward push followed by a careful withdrawal that left you aching for more. With each roll of his hips, he angled himself just right, brushing sensitive spots that made your vision blur.

Occasionally, he applied a hint more pressure with his thumb against that other, tighter place, not entering. It sent electricity through your nerves, reminding you just how easily he could control your pleasure.

Your muffled cries and soft whimpers were a soundtrack he savoured. He leaned over you, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder blades, murmuring your name like a prayer. The bed creaked softly beneath you, the scent of sex and the faint pine of the Christmas tree drifting through the apartment. You were both keenly aware that Alex slept down the hall—that, in the morning, family would fill this space with laughter and cheer. But right now, it was just the two of you, lost in this secret, intimate world of desire and trust.

William pressed in deeper, his body trembling with the effort of keeping his pace steady. The world beyond the bedroom door seemed to recede, the faint glow of Christmas lights under the doorframe the only hint of the festive setting outside. In that moment, nothing mattered except the heat of his skin against yours, the glide of sweat at the small of your back, the sounds and scents that wrapped around you both like a secret.

Your cries, half-stifled by the pillow you bit into, were music to his ears. You arched under him, toes curling into the mattress, the duvet bunching beneath your knees. You could feel him shudder, could almost taste how desperately he wanted to let go.

“Fuck, baby,” he panted, voice tight, on the edge of control. His grip on your hips tightened, fingertips pressing into your flesh. He angled himself just right, each deep thrust fanning the flames inside you both. You answered with a choked moan, head turned to the side, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to remain as silent as possible.

He whispered your name once more, voice cracking with need. “Mmm, I’m gonna fucking come,” he groaned, as if confessing a secret sin. You could hear the strain, feel the tension coiling in his muscles as he hovered at the brink. Each ragged breath he took warmed the skin of your back. The slick sound of your bodies meeting and the rich scent of sex filled your senses.

And when he finally surrendered, it was with a shudder that racked his entire frame. He buried himself as deep as he dared, spilling hot and thick inside you, voice reduced to a strangled gasp of relief and pleasure. The force of his climax echoed through you, every aftershock rippling against your quivering muscles. He stayed like that for a heartbeat longer, body slumped, forehead resting between your shoulder blades, his breath hitching as he tried to steady himself.

For a few moments, neither of you moved, too wrapped up in the haze of post-climax bliss. Your heart pounded, your limbs heavy, as you savoured the sensation of being utterly claimed. Then, as the urgency faded to a gentle hum, he withdrew carefully, easing you onto your side. The sudden coolness of the room’s air against your heated skin made you shiver, and he was quick to pull a cover over you both, sealing you together in warmth and comfort.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, his voice a soft, affectionate murmur that contrasted with the raw desperation of moments before. Outside this room, the world waited; snow falling silently, Christmas approaching with all its family chaos and bright laughter. But for right now, in the lingering scent of sex, you were two souls bound by secrecy, pleasure, and trust.

A quiet chuckle escaped him, low and fond. He brushed damp hair from your face, fingers lingering in the curve of your jaw. “I love you so fucking much” he whispered, as if afraid to break the spell. “Thanks for all the little surprises.”

You turned, meeting his gaze, the corner of your mouth lifting in a lazy, sated smile. “I love you too, Willy. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

[toeskater91]

Stobotnik Fic Recs

For a moment of positivity and sharing, see below for 10 Stobotnik Fic recs.

No fics in this post relate to the Sonic 3 movie.

Please make sure to take note of the tags and ratings if you click through to AO3 to ensure full positive curation of your reading experience. The recommendations vary from General up through Explicit ratings.

Doctor Robotnik makes good on his promise of being home by Christmas - it just took a little longer than expected, and home turned out to be someplace he hadn't considered.

Post Sonic 1 movie fic and Christmas/Holiday themed! I adore this one so much, I've re-read it so many times. The Doctor makes his way back to earth slightly before Christmas and ends up on Stone's new doorstep. The mortifying ordeal of being dependent on your former Agent and navigating how to handle the joy and boundaries of your boss you've greatly missed unexpectedly returning.

"I was actually happy when I found out what had happened to you. I looked you up against my better judgment, fully expecting you to have moved on immediately. Agent Stone, consummate professional, busy making lattes for some other genius." Stone snorted. "My number one attribute, huh?" "You know it. Only reason I kept you around," Robotnik said quietly.

Post Sonic 1 movie fic. Stone ends up imprisoned and Robotnik makes his way back to Earth with a side of rescue. I adore this one a whole lot and the Stone POV throughout is gorgeous.

You have that fanfic or series that takes a passing fandom interest and then once you read it, that interest is now stuck in your brain forever because of how profound an impact it had on you? That's this series and why my Stobotnik spiral really went into play.

It starts pre-film canon and goes through both both Sonic 1 and Sonic 2, then creates its own path for post Sonic 2. It provides such in-depth characterization and growth to both Stone and Robotnik as people and their relationship, its beyond amazing, especially how it weaves into the films as well. Total series is 286k words and my god, it is so, so, so, so, so worth the read. And the 16 parts allow for pacing and breaks.

The Doctor works himself to pieces each time he completes a project. His Agent puts him back together. A reflection on the creation-destruction process, homemade bread, and the intricate rituals of it all. (a.k.a. take an allegory, beat it dead.)

Pre-Canon / No Sonic movie direct interactions. Do you have that fic, that after you read makes you just sit there because of how profound and deep it hit you in your core? That you just sit there in wondered silence as you try and wrap your brain around it? That's this fic, the amount of pieces from the various chapters I want to quote and keep with me forever. The codependency between these two tied into the creative process of the doctor and its aftermath, beyond amazing.

In the process of removing the master emerald from Robotnik, Knuckles and Tails accidentally knock it into Stone's orbit. Or - in which Stone gets a turn with the emerald after Robotnik, and the two them have some time to chew the scenery (and also take out so many G.U.N. goons), because we deserved to see them fight side-by-side longer.

Sonic 2 canon divergence, Stone gets to take a spin with the emerald. Love to see our Agent get a turn to be awesome and deadly.

Before he even met Doctor Robotnik, Agent Stone understood the undeniable rules of being his, and truly, he was his. There was a sense of belonging that came with being around the Doctor as a whole, and it was not one of compassion or comfort like one may feel in a domestic partnership. No, from the briefing he had been given on Robotnik, Stone understood that he would no longer be property of the government once he was assigned to him. Instead, he would be Robotnik’s and Robotnik’s alone, no longer his own, yet nothing to Robotnik either. To the Doctor, he was an object to use and dispose of as he saw fit, and most days, even less. That was rule one.

Pre-Canon / No Sonic movie direct interactions. This fic has amazing pacing and growth. Starts with Stone beginning to work for the Doctor and how they change and grow as his time in this role extends on. This is a beautiful fic that I've given several re-reads. This has some amazing banter and attitude from them both.

Robotnik's very first romantic attachment left him bruised and apathetic towards the concept as a whole, warping his own perception of what it means to take part in any kind of emotional relationship. Thirty years later, he takes a chance on Agent Stone who, with patient hands and raw physical attraction, slowly coaxes Robotnik out of his cybernetic shell and into a whole new world of surprisingly mundane exchanges. Or: that one series where they date like normal people rather than the top secret government assets that they are while making a mockery of the entire country.

Pre-Canon / No Sonic movie direct interactions. I adore this series and how the author portrays Stone and Robotnik. How they growt throughout their relationship and the way they communicate and play off each other is wonderful. Part 5 is Christmas/holiday themed as well.

This is about a lot of things. This is about names and what they mean, this is about the weight of inheritance, this is about bakeries and newspapers and coffee. About homes and lawns and demolished grain silos. This is about a building in Northwest Oregon. This is about Robotnik. This is about Stone. Alone together. or: in less flowery language, its a series of snapshots of robotnik's lab across the years. the way robotnik used to be very alone in it, and the way he eventually wasn't.

Pre-Canon / No Sonic movie direct interactions. This is such a uniquely structured fic, bouncing through multiple times and building the history of the land where the lab that the Doctor works in will / does stand and how they come to work together

Stone's primary objective in life is to keep Robotnik safe and alive, at any cost. Time to find out what the universe is charging him.

Sonic 2 fic with Canon Divergence. Time travel and loops where Stone is determined to ensure the doctor is safe and he can protect him. The time loops and travels are done in such an amazing way as Stone keeps trying, trying, trying. Has a happy ending.

A Doctor for Christmas: The (Not A Hallmark Movie) by EmperorHaruhi

When (former) Canadian hockey player Aban Stone and (current) German Doctor Ivo Robotnik are trapped together in the town of Green Hills, Montana, three days before Christmas by an ice storm, the pair butt heads almost immediately. Can Stone melt the doctor's icy exterior and find the man lurking within? Will Robotnik discover Stone's dark secret, and how will he react? This Christmas, the Hallmark channel (does not) present: A Doctor For Christmas - An international, multi-lingual rom-com for the ages.

Hallmark movie Alternate Universe (AU) fic. This one is beautiful and such a fun spin on these two meeting as strangers thanks to the airlines being struck by the effects of winter weather.

[feyd-meowtha]

@middlingmay's Fic Rec Questions

I saw this list and thought it would be fun to give it a go!!

1) Fic that's made you laugh the most

He May Be The Reason by @c-goldthorn. It's a Clegan Notting Hill au and it makes me squeal with delight. So cute that I got distracted while reading it and missed my stop on the train.

2) A fic that made you cry

my kingdom for a kiss upon your shoulder by pillar of our community @swifty-fox. I'm sure most ppl have probably read this one but it's such an amazing post-show continuation that really doesn't pull it's punches when it comes to both PTSD and the realities of being gay in the 40s

3) Fave comfort, silly fic

It's a little rogue but I'm gonna say Awake, Alive by the wonderful @whirlpool-blogs. It's a pet sematary au so not exactly what you would call traditionally comforting but the ending makes me so happy and the whole thing is just a joy. The fact that this came to mind when I thought 'comfort fic' is probably pretty telling about me as a person....

4) The fic that made you try a genre or trope that you don't usually read

This is also a bit rogue but it was tricky since I'll read anything, so I'll go with Strings of the Strings of Life by the lovely @weimarweekly, not because of any of the content but because I don't, as a general rule, read Dune fic that was written after Dune 2 released. I've bored everyone to tears with my complaints about that version of Feyd but it is what it is so I tend not to like any fics written about that version of the character BUT the prospect of a feydpaul Berlin techno au was too delicious to resist and the whole fic is so fun. It makes me miss Germany sooo bad.

5) An author who has inspired your own fic writing

This one has got to go to the anonymous author of both Close And Yet Closer and The Replacement. Both of these fics are god tier and their character psychology and willingness to allow their versions of the characters and relationships to be ugly and messy are so inspiring to me. They were also the first person in the John/Hausman tag on ao3 which is currently just me and them. I think about the replacement all the time and it was a HUGE influence on 3am Eternal. If I can ever write half as well as them I will die happy.

6) What are your fave underdog authors? Those that you feel are underappreciated and deserve a bit more love

Hmmm, this is kinda hard cus the MOTA fandom is pretty small so I feel like a lot of stuff gets decent buzz. Imma shout out @whirlpool-blogs again and especially their fucked up clegans fics, I have read and reread all of their works and they're always so so good. I will also add @steeseman for Up In Our Bedroom. It's another great post-canon fic and while it has a lot of hits, I don't think I've seen anyone talking about it on here.

7) What's one thing you wish writers/readers did more of when it comes to fanfiction.

The obvious one is comment, it really does make my day when I get a nice comment, even just a couple words or an emoji mean a lot. The other thing I would say is writing curt/Kenny fic, there's not much out there and I want more please. Also more fics where characters relationships are like genuinely kind of fucked up and toxic. I love that shit.

8) What's one thing you wish writers/readers did less of when it comes to fanfiction.

Oh man, I really do not know. The only thing I can think of is that I hate the word 'yap' or 'yapping' so if I see it in a fic I shudder. Hmmmm, I guess I also wish that there was a little more consideration when writing Gale's dad as an alcoholic because it's often treated as the basis for him being a shitty person. Addicts aren't automatically bad people and I sometimes feel like it's portrayed that way. @blixabargelds wrote an excellent post on this

9) I'm adding an extra one and that is current WIPs I am reading

Sympathy For The Devil by @blixabargelds, it's a modern ghost hunting AU and the set up is AMAZING. I will also throw Superstar in here even though it's not releasing main story chapters yet, everything Frankie writes is so tailored to my personal tastes it's crazy and I am so excited to read @mildharm's John POV chapters too. Literally foaming at the mouth thinking about it rn. When it starts being released fully, I fear it may kill me.

Love Song From A Dog and The Heart Is A Muscle by @swifty-fox. I've only just started THIAM but I'm so hyped for their take on the tattoo shop/flower shop au.

Hit Me Where The Heart Is by @london-cowboy makes me legitimately insane. I jump for joy whenever there is a new update, these versions of the characters and their stories are, as Paris Hilton would say, beyond. I do not have the words to say how much I am loving this fic. The characters and setting feel so real and it's just so creative. AMAZING.

I need to get around to starting let us not desert one another; we are an injured body and also the time skip fic whose name escapes me by @irregularcollapse and also catching up with @weimarweekly's rodeo fic, Looking For Eight

Writing this was very fun and I encourage anyone reading to give it a go if they fancy it!!

[thewistlingbadger]

Me? A Silco sympathizer? Well, yes. Yes actually I am because the more I think about the more I think I have to be.

Silco was a young man who grew up with so much pain and suffering around him. All he ever knew was hardship, but despite it all he managed to live the best life he could have possibly managed for himself. He had community, family, and friendship. He had respect for others and the respect of others. He had a dream, people worth fighting for, people that loved him and people he in return loved. And he lost everything. He lost the very people he was fighting for, the ones that cared about him. He lost his humanity at the hands of Vander, his own brother who brutally betrayed him. Vander seemingly blindsided Silco at the river. He blamed him for something that was nowhere near his fault. He gave up on their dream, their home, at the first sign of trouble. He seemingly got Silco's peers and neighbors to turn on him and see him as nothing more than a monster. Can you imagine the confusion and hurt Silco must have felt in that moment? Or even the years afterwards? From Silco's perspective, he has no idea why Vander did what he did, and Vander never made any attempt to try to make amends. Vander was going to kill him that night. How do you think Silco felt, raising a knife against his kin just to save his own life? How do you think Silco felt looking the mirror every day after, knowing that a person he loved so deeply had became a monster and turned Silco into a literal monster? How do you think Silco felt when he walked the streets of Zaun and saw the way people recoiled away from him, because of his eye and reputation?

Silco was a good person. He had hopes and desires and a capacity to be kind. And all that, everything that made him him, everything that made him a human in his own eyes and the eyes of society was ripped away from him. He lost it all and he had to do it alone. Silco seemingly had no one outside of Vander and Felicia and he lost both of them. How do you think Silco reconciled that? Do you think he blamed himself for everything? Did he search his memories trying to find the exact moment where things went wrong? Did he think it was his fault that Vander betrayed him, that he deserved it in some way? Or did he know that he didn't deserve it, did he know that night was all on Vander? Did Silco hate himself for Felicia's death? Did he see himself responsible for her the same way Silco did? Did he ever wonder what became of her body, of her children? Or could he not bear the thought?

Silco had zero tools to help himself process his trauma and he didn't have a single person to comfort him. So what did Silco do? He accepted what happened to him in the only way he knew how. He completely abandoned the man he used to be, the man that knew love and affection and paid the price for it. He became the monster Vander saw him as. He dedicated his existence to the cause Felicia died for, the cause Vander was willing to kill him for. He didn't care about the costs and consequences and why should he have? Everything, literally everything he had and cared about was gone. The only thing Silco had left to lose was his own life, so he may as well try his hardest to get independence for his city, for his people, for himself, for Felicia's memory. And in the process he completely damned himself to a miserable and bitter life without humanity. And despite it all, despite how much he tried to put things in the past, to completely reinvent himself, he couldn't do it. The pain was still there. The man he used to be lived, even if it was in the smallest way.

There are a few moments where you can see his vulnerability. For example, the scene where he and Vander talk for the first time since the betrayal. Despite everything that Vander did to him, Silco still wanted Vander to work with him. He still saw Vander as his brother, and he still loved him. "I trusted you...and you betrayed me." You can see the pain in his eye when he says those words, how much he wishes things were different. We see how lonely he is, how he has no one except Jinx and Sevika, how he's isolated himself from any possible connection. We see how stressed he is all the time, how he's so tired of it all.

But the clearest way to see Silco's humanity is with Jinx. We can see a clear switch in him when he comes across Jinx as a child. He has no reason to take her in, to comfort her, and yet he does it anyway. He holds her with all the gentleness he has and whispers words of solidarity and understanding. Silco is always at his weakest when he's with Jinx, because Jinx makes him human again. Jinx makes him loving and warm and himself again. Jinx is healing him and he cares so much for her. He's so afraid to lose her, so afraid that she'll leave him like Vander did. His manipulation comes from a place of insecurity and fear. He tells her things that aren't true because he wants them to be true so desperately. He wants to be Jinx's family. He wants Jinx to stay with him. Jinx is the only person that is able to do this to him, to show him this softness he hasn't had in so long. Only with her does he talk softly. Only with her does he open up and share his own struggles. She's the only person who he fully trusts. She's the only person he ever engages in affection with and she's the only person he accepts affection from. And when he does touch her, it's always like she's delicate. Like she's something to be treated with care and the utmost preciousness. By having a trauma similar to his own she gives him someone to relate and confide him. Jinx is the only person who can possibly understand Silco and look past his actions to see the real him. A man who was hurt and abandoned so long ago that now all he knows is that hurt. A man who forgot what it was like to have family, to have people that care about you and want you around. Silco let's Jinx hurt him all the time, physically and emotionally, because he's terrified of the idea of being alone again. As long as she doesn't leave him he's fine with the pain, he can take it. He just doesn't want to go back to the way his life was before her. He wants it so much he willingly gives up his goal for it, he willingly DIES for it. Even when she does the thing that traumatized him, even when she kills him in cold blood and seemingly betrays him, he still loves her. He still can't find it in himself to hate her for all the pain she's caused him. She means so much to him that he uses his final breath, his last words, on her. To comfort her, like he's not the one with bullets in his chest. It's so important to him that she knows he loved her with everything he possibly had to offer.

[polyamzeal]

wanted to ask for some advice...

me and my nesting boyfriend (let's call him A) have been together for almost 4 years, which is a long time for the young adults we are. i love him so much, he means the world to me. he's always been there, he's always been so compassionate and loving, hes absolutely wonderful.

im polyamorous, and currently have one other boyfriend (let's call him T), who i've been with for almost 2 years. T and i are long distance, and T has another boyfriend (let's call him P) irl. me and P get along amazingly, me P and T have never had any troubles surrounding our polyamory.

A knows all about me and T, and vice versa, and i feel as though we had a good balance going on. A gets insecure, and we've talked about it a lot before, and while i make sure to reassure him and keep him updated on everything, i just dont know how to help.

both A and T are so so special to me, i really want them to have a good relationship if that's possible for them, as right now, while A doesnt dislike T, A's insecurities get in the way. A's told me that (while he knows it's not true) sometimes he feels like he's not enough for me, and that can hurt him. even if A and T never become good friends, i'll be fine with that, but i just really want to help A. he is more than enough for me, i love him so much, but i dont know how to help, and he says he just needs time to get over his stuff, which is completely okay, but i just really wish there was some way for me to help.

recently, the balance A, T, and i had got disrupted, i got asked out by a girl that i kinda like (let's call her V), we're set to go out in a week-ish. T was super happy for me, as i kind of expected he'd be, but A isnt as excited about it. hes said i can go, that he doesn't have any problems with it, and i believe him, but i know he's still having those insecurities and doubts in himself. i really want to go out with V, but i also need to make sure A's okay and to help him however i can and i just. i never want A to feel bad, which i know is completely unrealistic, that emotions ebb and flow, but when he's feeling bad because of stuff related to me i feel even worse. if that makes sense?? A is so selfless, loving, and i am completely happy with him, he deserves the whole entire world, and i dont know how to get him to truly believe that

I think listening to A is key here. Time is a great healer and problem-solver. It would nice if there was am miracle formula that instantly solved our problems over-night. But big stuff like this is often a work in-progress for a long time. Things get better, get worse, and get better again. I think the best thing to do would be to setup some timely check-ins with A. Monthly or maybe even weekly. Where you can listen to how A is really doing and he feels comfortable making requests of you. Lean into love languages, maybe he just needs some extra cuddles or he wants to go on a certain date with you but doesn't know how to ask. I think as long as you have this system of actively checking in with each other then there is no blame or guilt. Everybody is doing the best they can and you will work out the hard insecurities in time.

[evans23]

RICKMAS 2024 - DAY 22 - SHIVERING CERTAINTY [E2]

Pairing : Colonel Brandon x OC (Marie)

Summary : And if, finally, love could blossoms in the most unusual way ? And if, finally, Christopher didn’t really sacrifice himself ? And if, finally, both of them get exactly what they deserve ?

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Sadness. Loneliness. Abandon. Rumours. Harsh mother. Unwanted pregnancy.

WRONGFUL PERCEPTION : Part I

Also read on AO3 - Wattpad

At breakfast, Marie stared at her plate without much appetite. Brandon watched her furtively. Her round belly left no doubt: in a few months, they would be parents.

"Marie, is everything okay ?" Christopher asked, worried.

"I... I don't really know," she said without looking up.

"Are you scared ?"

"A little bit," she said, gripping her spoon a little tighter.

He reached out a cautious hand to place it on hers. She looked up at his big green eyes and found only tenderness.

"What if I'm not ready for it ?"

"You won't be alone. I'll be there. And we'll hire a governess," he tried to reassure her.

"But I don't want my baby to be raised by servants," she said softly, "I... I want to be a good mother," she confessed, looking down again.

"And you will be," Christopher affirmed, squeezing her hand a little tighter.

Marie gave him a small smile. She still wasn't entirely convinced that everything would be okay, but Christopher had this gift of making her feel calmer, safer. She still felt bad about imposing an illegitimate child on the Colonel, but he seemed sincerely invested. He never made her feel like a burden and if at first she had regretted their union, she accepted it more and more now.

Maybe, yes maybe if she gave him a chance, she could have a good life and even know love, the real one, the one that is born of deep feeling and not of a fleeting passion.

After breakfast, Marie went to get a shawl to go for a walk in the gardens. Christopher, who was busy in his greenhouse preparing the soil for the future roses that would bloom again in the spring, saw her pass by and decided to follow her discreetly.

As she arrived near an old oak tree, she stopped for a moment, her hand placed on her belly.

"Marie, is everything okay ?" Christopher asked as he approached slowly.

She turned around, a big smile on her lips. Without a word, she approached him and, to the Colonel's great surprise, she took his hand to place it on her belly.

Christopher's eyes widened when he felt small knocks against his hand. The baby was moving.

"Hello, little one," he whispered with emotion.

"Do you think it will be a little boy or a little girl ?" Marie asked as she placed her hand against Christopher's which was still resting on her round belly.

"It doesn't matter. It'll be a darling child," Christopher replied, fascinated by the movements he still felt under her large, firm hand.

Marie closed her eyes, a strong emotion pressing on her heart. She was torn, torn between what she had done, between what she was imposing on Christopher, and the feelings she had for him and the future that could be bright, if only she would agree to let him love her and her baby.

"Do you want to know ?" she asked suddenly.

"Know what ?" Christopher asked surprised.

"What happened. Who is the father."

"No, it's your story, it belongs to you."

"But I want to tell you," Marie whispered.

A gust of wind came to sweep the leaves all around, lifting Marie's dress slightly and revealing her ankles that were not covered by her woollen stockings. They were so swollen that she could no longer tolerate any fabric on her sensitive skin. That little glimpse of skin troubled Christopher more than he would have thought. He remembered his brother once telling him about one of his one-night stands when he was not yet engaged to Eliza that a woman's ankles were the most wonderful thing and Christopher, who had laughed at the time, was beginning to believe him.

"Let's go inside and take shelter. This wind could make you sick and now is not the time with the baby on the way," he said, holding out his arm to her.

She followed him into the living room where they sat down by the fire. A maid came to bring them tea and biscuits.

"At the end of February, I went to London, I..."

"Marie, you don't owe me an explanation. I already know that you met a man, that he cheated on you and left you," Christopher interrupted, "I don't need to know more."

"But I feel like I have to tell you everything," Marie said, struggling to hold back her tears.

"You don't owe me anything, Marie. I know what there is to know, I also know that you are strong and you are not alone. You are not anymore. I am here."

"I am sorry that I didn't love you right away, Christopher," she said in a breath, "I agreed to marry you for my father, to spare him after what I did to him, to spare him the shame of having a slut for a daughter."

"Don't you ever talk about yourself like that," Christopher scolded her, "you're not a slut! You're a young woman who was abused by a man without honour. I didn't love you right away either, Marie. I wanted to protect you, save your honour, but for me, this marriage has become much more than a formality," Christopher declared without taking his eyes off her.

"I think it's more than a formality for me too," Marie whispered, her eyes shining, "but I feel guilty."

"Don't be. Never. Forget all that, Marie. This child is a chance, a chance for true love for you and me. And it will be loved, darling. This child is my child, Marie. And you, you must free yourself from this guilt, from these memories that have broken you. Free yourself from the past that you can't erase and focus on our future together."

"Christopher," Marie whispered as she moved closer to him.

"If you had asked me to walk away, I would have, but not now, not now that you have confided all this to me. I know you were betrayed, but we're not all like that, Marie. Try to trust me."

She nodded softly, sitting down next to him. Christopher placed a hand against her cheek. Marie leaned against his palm, more serene than she had been since she'd discovered she was pregnant.

"You're so patient with me," she said, placing her hand against his, "so good."

"I'm yours, Marie. You have my loyalty, my protection, and my love. Unconditionally."

"And if we ever have a fight, will you blame me ?"

"Never ! I'm not like that, Marie. I would never blame you for making me fall in love with you. And I would never use our child against you. This is my baby, it is mine, mine and it will never have to know the truth, because the only truth is that I am the father," Christopher said firmly in a voice that left no room for contradiction.

Marie nodded with emotion, overwhelmed. She had not chosen this marriage, but this union that she had seen as a punishment could well be a blessing if she agreed to forgive herself.

Christopher took her gently in his arms and she let him do it, resting her head against his chest. He offered her stability, security and she felt happy.

Both were aware that there would be efforts to make, trials to overcome, but together, they would be stronger. Christopher was her new beginning, it was a shivering certainty.

"Let's be a family, a real family," she said, raising her head to look into the Colonel's hazel eyes.

"I would be more than happy."

That night, Marie asked Christopher for her permission to sleep with him, which he gladly accepted. That night was the first of many. She felt safe by his side and she loved that he would lay his head against her belly every night to tell their future baby about his adventures in India as their relationship slowly blossomed into respect and love.

"Christopher !"

Christopher woke with a start at the sound of Marie's voice.

"What's going on?" he asked, getting up to light a candle.

"The baby, it's coming," she said with a grimace.

Christopher noticed that the bed was wet. Her water had broken. He immediately called for the doctor and the housekeeper. The doctor arrived quickly with a midwife who told the Colonel to wait outside.

Christopher paced up and down the hallway, clenching his fists every time he heard Marie scream. Inside the room, the governess was wiping his forehead while the doctor, with the help of the midwife, worked to contain a slight haemorrhage.

"Christopher, I want Christopher," she gasped, her fingers clenched on the blood-stained sheets.

The governess went to get him. The poor man, his hands shaking, silently prayed that everything would be okay. He could not bear the loss, neither her nor the child. When the governess told him she was asking for him, he did not hesitate for a second to go back into the room.

"Christopher," Mary whispered when he saw him enter, "stay close to me. Stay."

He came to sit next to her and took her hand in his, squeezing it delicately.

"I'm here, Mary. I'm staying close to you."

He ran a damp cloth over her forehead before placing a kiss on it. In that moment of extraordinary intensity, he offered her the strength and calm she needed, a rock in the storm.

"The baby is coming," the midwife said, pressing a little on Marie's belly.

It took another two hours for the baby to decide to leave the comfort and security of her mother's womb. Marie was exhausted and had lost consciousness once, woken by Christopher who had patted her cheeks to bring her back to her while trying to control his own fear.

When a shrill cry rang out, Marie sighed with relief, a tired smile on her face. The doctor came to place the child in her arms and congratulated her. A little boy. He was tiny, fragile and so innocent. He didn't look premature either, but the doctor and midwife had seen other things and they knew it was not their place to judge or to tell anyone.

"Christopher, do you want to take your son ?" she asked without even realizing that she was crying with happiness.

Christopher took the child with an exaggerated bow, afraid of hurting him.

"Hello my little boy. My son," he said, looking at this little being so pure that he held in his arms.

"He is so beautiful," he said, smiling, "he is a true blessing."

"What do you want to name him ?" Marie asked, placing a hand on her son's head.

"It's up to you," he answered without looking away of the baby's face.

"No. You're his father, it's up to you to choose your son's name."

"What do you think of Thomas ? Thomas William Brandon ?"

"Thomas William Brandon," she repeated, "yes, I like it."

She looked at her husband tenderly, filled with an inner peace that seemed to erase the pain of her past. There was only love in her once-bruised heart and the shivering certainty that this family he was building, everything she had lived, lost, suffered, had led her to this man who was healing her.

"I love you, Christopher," she said as the midwife took their son away to be washed.

Christopher stared at her, his throat tight. He had believed for so long that he was unworthy of being loved, and now he had a family.

"I love you too Marie," he replied, stroking her damp hair, "and Merry Christmas," he added with a smile.

Two years later

Thomas walked awkwardly in the library, following his father who was putting away books. Thomas was a child full of energy who loved to be behind his father, his hero that he tried to imitate from the height of his two years.

Marie entered the room as Christopher who had just picked him up showed her a book containing pictures of exotic animals that he had seen in India. She walked forward, looking at them tenderly, to Brandon whom she hugged from behind, resting her head on his back.

"Don't give him the wrong idea," she said, caressing Thomas' cheek.

"Believe me my dear, as long as I live, our son will never enter the army."

He turned to place a light kiss on her forehead.

"How are you ?" he asked, placing a hand on her belly.

"I'm happy. But exhausted. I wish your child would let me sleep at night," she said, laughing softly.

"I hope it's a little girl," Christopher said, gently caressing the slightly rounded curve that already hinted at the arrival of a future baby in their home.

"A winter baby and a summer baby," Marie said, looking at Thomas who was fidgeting a little in Christopher's arms, demanding her attention.

"And it's all thanks to you, my son," Christopher said in a soft voice, "you're the one who made us a family."

Marie snuggled a little closer to him. On this Christmas Eve, she couldn't be happier. She had everything she had ever wanted and more. Christopher looked so beautiful with their son in his arms. Together, they had overcome so many obstacles and their love was only stronger, growing a little more each day. He was her strength and she was his.

Marie and Christopher had the shivering certainty that they had always been meant to be together and both thanked the heavens for having pushed destiny to bring them together. Neither of them had understood it right away, but they were soulmates. That was a certainty.

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Hello there, I wonder. Could you please write something with Steven Grant x male!reader? Like, bottom Steven? But not something rough tho...something sweet, like Steven being all needy and his moans and whimpers being all soft while he receives? So sorry for being a way too long request 😅. Have a great day 👋

Yes hello. Yeah I can try to do justice to your request. It wasn't a long request either. :)

I hope I did justice to you :)

Such a good boy

Steven Grant x male!reader

Content: Nsfw, penetration, use of pet names(only twice), sub!Steven, a bit fluffy at the end.

"O-oh, god-" Steven's needy whimpers filled the room.

"Feels good, Steven?" you asked, watching Steven spread his legs more for you.

Steven nodded, looking up at you with half lidded eyes full of lust and softness.

You couldn't help but smile at him. Steven always had a way of making you melt.

You leaned in close. "Steven?"

"Mh-mm?" came his soft moan.

Steven arched his back, letting out another whimper. You felt his cock throb against his stomach, his hips grinding against you with every thrust you made.

"I love you so so much, you know that?" you kissed his neck, earning more whimpers from Steven as his hands moved to grip your arms gently.

"Yes. And I'm your good boy, am I?" Steven asked in a husky tone.

You hummed, smiling against his skin. "Yes you are, Steven. My good boy."

Steven's constant grinding against you had your peak build up rapidly.

"Love, I'm gettin' close.." Steven breathed out, letting out another series of moans.

Your pace quickened, chasing your own peak while wanting to give Steven the release he deserved.

After both of you came and cleaned up, returning to bed, Steven wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss on top of your head.

"'M so happy to have you, love." He smiled.

You tangled your leg with his. "I'm happier to have you, Steven."

---------------------

Tags:

@mochiitoby @tanks606 @xcherryxmilkx

@nekoyin @iolaussharpe-24 @steven-grants-world @krakenkitty @buckyssugarchick @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

@anxitea-shop @mooksmouse @libblesdoodles @silvernight-m @yeanika

Wanna get tagged?

[pidgydraws]

IMO

i make a lot of very fluffy, sentimental, art~ but i need everyone to know just how much i fucking hate these two (adoringly. with all my heart.)

[pixelatedraindrops]

Happy Birthday Yakou! 🚬💙🎉

The best roommate, mentor, boss, father figure and caretaker Yuma could ask for💕

I had to try to make something for him. I’ve grown to adore him almost as much as yuma as I kept putting them in various scenarios the past half year.

(its kinda for both of them since their birthdays are only a day apart from each-other??)

So yeah, birthday cuddles for them both~ 💜💙

[seilon]

certainly feeling some things about the fact that simon. bullied edwin, yes, because he clocked him being gay. but not out out of hatred for him because of it. instead it was because he thought edwin was cute and felt sad and confused by edwin not paying attention to him. because simon is also gay. that is some beautiful and tragic storytelling and such a good way to come back around and give edwin some amount of closure on that chapter of his life wow

[ajdrawshq]

i can almost guarantee ive said it before but. he would thrive in a zero escape game